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jay-wells-writes · 4 years ago

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Enemy of My Enemy is My Friend (Dracula x reader, smut and slight gore)

OMG..... Wow..... I was expecting this story to be a bit of a pain in the ass, but man was I wrong. Once I got the idea down, everything just came to me. I was surprised with how much I kept putting into this and I really like were it went. So my Dear Anon I hope you really enjoy the story.��

Of course I had to change some things around in order to make your request work and after talking it over with a friend this is what I came up with. SO PLEASE NOTE!!! I have combined both Van Helsing and Castlevania BUT only with one character. I took Brauner from Castlevania and made him the bad guy that makes Reader and Dracula work together. THAT IS THE ONLY THING I TOOK. I also know nothing from Castlevania so I made Brauner how I wanted. So basically I borrowed his name and nothing more. THERE ARE WARNINGS OF BLOOD AND NON DISCRIBED GORE!!!

gif taken from google

The people in town called you crazy when you mentioned going up to the old Counts Castle. From what you learned at the inn the castle belonged to Count Dracula, a creature of the night that wasn’t to be messed with. But a few years back he left, for unknown reasons and another vampire named Brauner took over. The townspeople are quick to tell you that although Dracula was evil and nasty, he was nothing compared to Brauner. Hearing that you rolled your eyes, in good old Brauner fashion he used his brutality and strength to scare the townspeople into thinking he was something he wasn’t. But as you downed your drink you shook your head and stood. You told them that the anger in you was stronger than Brauner and that if you died you were going to make sure you took him with you.

When it came to hunting creatures of the night, you were constantly picked on by others. They would tell you that you weren’t strong enough and that you would be better used as bait. But then Tham showed up and instead of picking like the others they taught you what they knew. It was during your training the both of you learned that while you may not have brute strength, you had an unnatural ability when it came to tracking and knowing when you were being followed. So as you walked to the castle you knew something had been following you ever since the sun went down. As you drew closer to the castle you needed to kill whatever it was, because you didn’t need any additional problems once there. Turning around slowly you knew the spot you had chosen was not the best, but the creature needed to be dealt with. Whatever it was, it hadn’t made a sound so you also knew it wasn’t some lackey. That it had some cognitive ability. So you called out to it.

“How about instead of following me you just show yourself!”

Hearing a crack from your left you turned to watch a man walk from behind a large tree. Between his black hair and attire, you didn’t need the moon to see how pale he was. But you couldn’t help it when your breath hitched at his handsome features and you found yourself unable to move, and when he spoke you instantly knew who the man was.

“But I was having such great fun watching you navigate these woods as if you had lived here your whole life.”

“What makes you think I haven’t?”

Stepping closer to you, your heart began to beat faster and it wasn't out of fear.

“Oh come now, these are my woods, and if a delicious human like you had walked them before I would have snatched you before now.”

You didn’t have to feel breath on the back of your neck to know that he was currently standing behind you, inches away from your neck. Vampires had an ability of being able to control humans so you chalked up your inability to move on that. But you knew and so did he that you weren’t moving because you didn’t want to. Hearing his voice from the other side of your head you turned to look at his pale face as he inched closer to you.

“So tell me, what is a delicious thing, as yourself, doing out this late at night?”

Even though his question shook you like jumping into a cold creek to bathe. It essentially reminded you of why you were making the trip up to the castle. But instead of moving away you remained still and even brought your face a bit closer to his as you answered his question with a small smile.

“Come now Count, we both know what I am doing.”

You watched as a large smile broke out on the Count’s face.

“So you know who I am.”

“It wasn’t that hard.”

Smiling at your answer you watched as the Count brought his hand up and ran his cold fingertips down your face.

“You know who I am yet you are unafraid.”

“Not being scared makes you cocky and cocky gets you killed.”

Laughing as he steps back slightly and you watch as the Count stepped away from you completely. Placing his hands behind his back he walked a couple steps in front of you before stopping and looking at you.

“Well it is still polite to introduce oneself. So allow me to introduce myself, I am Count Vladislaus Dracula.” When you didn’t reply back to the Count he smiled slightly and took a step towards you. “Is it not polite to introduce yourself after someone introduces themselves?”

“It is if the person introducing themselves is alive and not a creature of the night.”

Instantly Dracula was standing behind you and you felt something in you shift.

“Hmmm, such a feisty thing. I like it, but come now we both have things to do.”

Being reminded of why you were there once again, you felt ice running through your body, but it wasn’t enough to break whatever hold the Count had on you and you found yourself answering his question.

“My name is y/n.”

“Ah, now see was that so hard? Tell me y/n, why do you make your way up to my castle this late at night?”

Annoyed at the Count for using his abilities to get your name you couldn’t help but say the first thing that came from your mouth.

“Correct me if I am wrong Count, but doesn’t that castle now belong to Brauner?”

Suddenly you felt the wind leaving your chest as the Count slammed you into a tree. If his face hadn’t been so pale you were sure it would have been bright red in anger as he yelled.

“THAT CASTLE WOULD NEVER BE BRAUNER’S!” Releasing his hold on you the Count took a step back and fixed a piece of his hair that had fallen over his eye. “That is and always will be my castle.”

Suddenly feeling a bit daring you couldn’t help but smile as you rested and tilted your head on the tree.

“But the townspeople said you abandoned it and Brauner took it over.”

Standing flushed against you once again, you allowed Dracula to touch your neck as he slowly moved your head back and forth.

“I would never abandon something that is mine.”

“But it seems that you have Count.”

You could feel his fingers tightening around your neck as his teeth grazed against your skin.

“I would NEVER abandon something that is mine and I am ashamed to admit it, but Brauner was able to weaken me. He left me for dead and it has taken this long for me to heal. Now, you may intrigue me but my patients run thin. Why are you heading to my castle?”

"I have come to do you a favor and kill Brauner."

You could feel your blood boil as the Count laughed in your face. To your surprise and his you shoved him away from you and took a step from the tree. Fixing his jacket the Count stood tall once more and smiled.

"Such anger. Tell me my Dear y/n what has Brauner done to you to cause such anger?”

“He killed my mentor, Tham.”

“Ah, so it is the classic revenge killing.”

Laughing darkly you held out your hand.

“And what about you. You got too comfortable around him and lost your castle and almost your undead li-”

Once again the Count had you slammed into the tree but this time instead of touching you like a lover would his fingers were cutting off your breathing. As you clawed at his hand the Count placed his forehead against yours.

“DO NOT assume that our problems are the same. Human’s die all the time, it is the nature of your life. You are born and then you die. For vampires we live for thousands of years. I AM older than all and most of my kind fear me! Those that don’t learn quickly that they should. Brauner has gotten drunk on power and instead of trying to preserve our kind he has brought us into the light. The ONLY reason he was able to over power me is because he cheated and had young bloods help him in our dual.” Letting go of your throat the Count took a step back and began to pace as you dropped to your knees, gasping for breath. “None of that matters now. Tell me my Dear y/n, how do you plan on killing him? How do you plan on getting into the castle and past those he has around him?”

Shifting to your butt you sat on the ground and thought about it. Truthfully you didn’t know and for some reason you told him so.

“I don’t know. I was going to scout the castle and look for the best way in. What about you? I highly doubt Brauner is going to allow you back into the castle, even if it is your castle.”

Placing his hands behind his back the Count tilted his head, acknowledging what you said as he continued to pace.

“This is true in a sense. Brauner will allow me back in the castle but he will not allow me close to him."

Instead of finishing his thought the Count continued to pace and think. Slowly you got to your feet and began to collect the things you had dropped. You had just picked up your bag when you noticed that the Count was no longer in front of you, but standing flush against your back.

“Tell me my Dear y/n, what if I told you that tonight not only would Brauner die but you would be able to walk out of my castle alive.”

Turning to look over your shoulder you could see the Count bring his hands up and run them down your shoulders.

“I would ask you what type of deal am I making with the Devil?”

Laughing, the Count moved to stand in the front of you and took your hands into his. He moved one of them to his shoulder while he gripped your other one into his. Without even realizing it you soon found yourself dancing with the Count in the middle of the woods.

“The deal, as you call it, my Dear y/n is simple. You become mine.” Before you could pull away the Count shook his head. “No no, not like that. I have an idea that will not only get you into the castle but will also get me close to Brauner. It is no secret that we both want Brauner dead, unfortunately only one of us is able to make it happen.”

“Get to the point Count.”

“Vlad, please or Dracula. The point my Dear y/n is that Brauner may have control of my castle, but like I mentioned before, he will not keep me out. I can walk right into it and no one will stop me. If you were on my side, you would be able to do the same.”

Pulling away from Dracula you glared at him.

“What’s the plan Dracula?”

Laughing at the tone of your voice Dracula started to dance with himself as he spoke.

“Oh my Dear y/n, it is simple. Brauner wants power, he has always been a bit jealous too. Can you imagine how jealous he would be when I come walking into the castle with a willing human at my side."

"Willing human. For what?"

"You are a hunter, what is one of the first things your dear dead teacher taught you about vampires?"

Seeing you stepping towards him Dracula smiled and bowed.

"That their self center and full of themselves."

Laughing loudly at your comment Dracula quickly pulled you into his arms again and started to dance once more.

"Oh my Dear y/n, while that may be true that was not the answer I was looking for. I was thinking more about our ability to place humans and creatures alike in a trance and have them do our bidding. Can you imagine how jealous Brauner would be when I walk into the castle with a human who WANTS to be there? Someone I didn’t have to force or spell to be there."

"Still don't know how that is going to get you closer to Brauner."

"Well, it is no lie, I am a very sensual creature….."

"Wait you want me to act like I am some stupid human that fell in love with you?"

Making a face, Dracula shook his head as he spun you around. Bringing his face to your neck you couldn’t help but tilt your head to allow him to graze his lips against it.

"I would not want you to be some stupid human, I enjoy your feistyness. I think we mix well as we are. No, what you would have to do is submit to me. You can't cringe if I was to kiss your neck or even your lips. You have to act as though you enjoy my cold fingers tracing your neck or other parts of your body." Spinning once again you stood facing Dracula as he watched his fingers slipping down your neck. "You do that and Brauner will be itching to get a taste."

"One problem in your plan Dracula. To be completely devoted to you, I have to be willing to let you feed off of me. And you will NOT bite me."

Bringing your wrist to his lips Dracula kissed it before running his face over it.

"Oh my Dear y/n, I do not expect you to allow me such pleasure as that. But there are other ways I can feed from you. In fact your arms give us one way." Looking at your arms you saw cuts from previous fights. Looking back up at Dracula you could see him smile. "So what say you my Dear y/n, do you think you handle my touches?"

Pulling your hand from Dracula’s you placed it on his chest. Fiddling with the buttons on his jacket you looked into his eyes as you used your other hand to pull his face to yours, crashing your lips into each other's. You weren't sure what surprised you more, how cold Dracula’s lips were to yours or how he easily took over the kiss and you let him. Pulling away so that you could breath Dracula closed his eyes and moaned.

"Oh yes, this is going to be marvelous."

~~~~

Getting into the castle had gone just as Dracula said it would. A couple of "young bloods" as he called them tried to stop you and were now dead. At the commotion that was made Brauner's second came into the hallway and when he saw Dracula you almost thought he paled even more. After telling you both that Brauner was having a party Dracula brushed past him while telling you that you both must get ready for said party.

Thinking that Dracula was going to make you wear a gown you were left glaring at him when he had you slip into something that resembled a night shift. While he wore black pants and a black button up with his knee high boots. You continued to wear the frown on your face until the ballroom doors came into sight.

Just as Dracula slipped his arm around your waist as you rested your head against his shoulder and laid your hand on his chest. When the ballroom doors opened it took all of your will to keep moving. Luckily Dracula was able to keep you moving forward with the arm around your waist. Turning so that you were walking backwards you brought your lips to his ear, as though you were kissing just below it.

"You bastard. You didn’t tell me Brauner's parties looked more like a brothel!"

Wrapping his arms tightly around you, Dracula kept his eyes forward as his teeth grazed your ear.

"Oh my Dear y/n, if I would have done so you never would have continued with our arrangement."

Before you could say anything more a voice rang out.

"AH COUNT DRACULA! I MUST SAY THIS IS BOTH A SHOCKING AND PLEASANT SURPRISE!"

Turning you back around but placing you in front of him Dracula began to walk you both forward as his hands moved across your body. It didn’t take you long to find who had been yelling. And instantly you felt your blood boil. Before you could do anything rash though Dracula was kissing and nibbling on your neck as he spoke.

"Come now Brauner, a surprise it may be but a pleasant one it is not. If it had not been for my love, I would have died from the wounds you and the other’s inflicted on me."

"Your love? Last I knew Dracula had no love and even if there is one I would not imagine it to be a human like this one.”

Even as you and Dracula came closer Brauner remained seated as two women made out on top of him. For a brief moment you thought that Dracula had been wrong about being able to get close to him but from the corner of your eye you saw two of Brauner’s young bloods stepping closer to all of you. Stopping a few feet before Brauner, you could feel Dracula smiling against your neck.

“We may not feel love like human’s do, but this sweet human nursed me like she would a newborn baby. Cut her delicate skin and bleed herself so that I could grow stronger from her blood. And even now she still bleeds for me, tell me Brauner how could that not be love? How could I not want to bring her with me when I decided it was time to come back to my old castle and it’s new owner.”

At the mention of the castle Brauner sat straighter, dislodging the women from his lap.

“Speaking of, have you come to exact your revenge for what me and the other’s had done?”

Instead of dancing like he had most of the night, Dracula pulled your body even closer to his and began to sway lightly as he laid kisses all along your neck and shoulders.

“Have you not heard what I have just said, Brauner? I could care less for the castle or for what you had done. We have just simply come here to see what you have done with the place.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

Waving his hand at Brauner, Dracula sat in a lounger and pulled you into his lap facing him. Running his hand down your chest you couldn’t help but moan as Dracula gripped your breast.

“Believe what you want Brauner. Let us rest and enjoy your party for the night and we will leave tomorrow.”

Not waiting for Brauner’s answer Dracula pulled you down and began to kiss you like he had in the woods.

You knew that everything that was happening was wrong and if Tham was here they would have been beating you to an inch of your life. But you couldn’t help but moan into Dracula’s mouth and grip his shirt as you began to grind against him. Having gotten lost in the pleasure you had forgotten about where you were until you heard Brauner laughing as he spoke.

“My you have a lively one don’t you Dracula. So easy to give into the creatures of the night. Tell me, if she has become your love then why have you not turned her.”

Ripping his mouth away from yours, Dracula gasped as like he needed air.

“Perhaps that may happen, at some point. But why would I give up such sweet blood? That I may have at any given moment.”

“Surely you jest.”

Dropping your face into Dracula’s neck to keep you from glaring at Brauner; Dracula turned to look at him. Taking one of his hands from your hip you could feel Dracula pull something from his boot and you bite down on him to let him know you knew what he was planning.

“Then perhaps we shall show you?” Tugging your hair lightly Dracula forced your head back to look at him. “My Love.”

Even though you wanted to scream and hit Dracula for the position he now had you in, you went along with his plan and lifted your arm while grinded down on Dracula.

“Not much. I still feel faint from when you drank from me earlier.”

Smiling Dracula placed the knife on your arm.

“Of course my Love.”

Very quickly Dracula ran the blade down your arm. You expected there to be pain but the blade had been extremely sharp and Dracula had been fast with his movement. You also expected Dracula to pull your arm to his lips but instead he held your arm over his face and held his tongue out as your blood began to fall onto his waiting tongue. Your heart began to beat faster as you watched your blood pouring into his mouth, but you couldn’t tell if it was because you were losing blood or if it was because of the animalistic look that took over Dracula’s face. From the corner of your eyes you could see the other’s as they began to slowly move closer to you and Dracula. Just when you thought things were going to take a turn for the worst you found yourself laying on the lounger as Dracula stood next to it as he yelled.

“UNLESS STATED OTHERWISE MY LOVE IS OFF LIMITS! AND IF YOU TRY WITHOUT PERMISSION I WILL KILL YOU ALL!”

Seeing Dracula shift from his human form to his demon not only had the other’s cowering in fear but you also. Of course before you had time to properly freak out Dracula was back to his human form and kneeling beside you.

“Are you alright my Love?”

Nodding your head lightly you watched as Dracula ran his tongue over the cut. To your surprise as he pulled his mouth away you saw that the cut was no longer open, but instead looked a couple of days old. Picking you up as though you weighed nothing Dracula resumed his position on the lounger and held you close to his chest. For a time you both laid there and watched as those that had been watching resumed what they had been doing. After a few moments Dracula pulled you up so that he could whisper in your ear.

“We have Brauner’s attention now. He can’t help but but look over here. We need to really pull him in.”

Turning your head up you dug your nails into Dracula’s chest.

“What the trick with the blade wasn’t enough.”

“Did we not talk about that?” Digging your nails deeper into Dracula’s skin he actually moaned out when others would have hissed. “We have his attention, but we need him to come closer. I can’t kill him if he stays over there and us over here.”

“It seems to me that you are getting more out of all this then I am. What do I get?”

“Other than walking out of here with your life? You will be able to bathe in Brauner’s blood.”

The thought of being covered in Brauner’s blood had you making a face that caused Dracula chuckle.

“That doesn’t sound appealing.”

Shifting you so that you were once again straddling his lap Dracula lightly ran his hands down your chest which caused your nipples to harden.

“Pleasure, I can offer you so much pleasure.”

It didn’t take you long to feel Dracula hardening under you and you suddenly realized it has been a very long time since you slept with someone. Without thinking any more about it you muttered quietly “God forgive me.” before you pulled your gown over your head. You could tell that Dracula had not been expecting that move from you, but he wasted no time sitting up and wrapping his mouth around your nipple.

As Dracula continued to assault your chest one of his hands slipped into your hair and pulled your head backwards. Allowing him to lick and nibble his way up to your neck. Instead of feeling just his teeth grazing your neck though you felt his fangs. Even though he would pinch your skin between his teeth and fangs he never broke skin and the adrenaline of it had you moaning loudly as you pulled the tie from his hair. Tightening your grip on his hair you tilted Dracula’s head back and gave him a warning look when you realized he was spending too much time with his mouth on your neck. Licking his lips Dracula grinned at you before wrapping his lips back around your nipple while his hand moved to the other one. While he continued his attack on your breast you couldn’t help but tip your head back and moan in pleasure as you rolled your hips against him.

Suddenly Dracula was bringing his mouth back to yours. Even though you were getting lost in the kiss you could feel Dracula’s hands moving down to your ass while he turned the both of you. Lifting slightly he dropped to his knees and laid you on the ground. The cold floor had you gasping out when it touched your heated skin. Chuckling against your mouth Dracula shifted to the side and ran his hand over your thigh.

“Don’t worry my Love, I will have you warm once again.”

Bending your knee so that your foot rested against the floor. Dracula slowly brought his hand back down to your hip. Reaching between the both of you he began to work on the buttons and knots of his pants. And even though he had been doing a good job of opening them you couldn’t help but reach between the both of you and help him. When your hand wrapped around his cock Dracula placed his mouth onto your collar bone and bit lightly.

Normally when you held a man’s cock in your hand it was smooth, soft, and warm. Moving your hand over Dracula’s you got two of the three, the only one missing was the warmth. In its place was coldness, similar to you if you were to jump into a frozen lake. After a few more strokes Dracula was shifting the both of you once more. Laying on his back he placed one hand under his head while the other rested on your thigh.

“You have given to me my Love. Take from me what you want.”

Placing one hand on his chest you lifted yourself just enough so that you could align him with your center. Feeling the tip of his cock slipping into you, you made sure he wasn’t going to slip out of you before placing a hand on his chest as you slowly started to take more of him. As you continued to push down Dracula moved his hands and placed them onto your hips and dug his fingers into you. Soon both of you were moaning out in pleasure. Once fully seated, you sat for a few moments as you adjusted to his size. But even before you were ready Dracula was moving you, which had you crying out in pleasure. Even though he told you that you could take what you wanted from him, Dracula continued to dictate the moves.

Eventually Dracula sat himself up and while resting one hand behind him, he used his other and placed it in the middle of your back. Even as he held you close you couldn’t help but place your hands behind yourself as you grinded against him. Tilting your head back you couldn’t help but cry out the closer you got to cumming. Soon you could feel Dracula putting pressure on your back causing you to sit up. Before you could rest your head against his though he was moving you both again.

Somehow he was able to shift the both of you without slipping out and once you were on your back Dracula shifted to his knees. Placing his hands on your hips he quickly began to thrust into you. With how fast he was thrusting, all you could do was grip his arms as you tighten your legs around him. Soon though Dracula began to speak.

"Such beauty, look at you my Love. So lost in your pleasure, sweat running between your breasts. Your blood rising to the surface of your skin, giving you a flushed look. The warmth of your body trying its best to warm my cold skin."

Even if someone found out about this night you would not admit to them how good it felt to be having sex with Dracula or how his voice was bringing you closer to the edge. And it was the sound of his voice that had you suddenly cumming. You could feel something running down your fingers and you didn't need to look to know you had drawn blood from Dracula’s arms as you screamed out in pleasure. You were so lost in your pleasure you didn't even realize that Dracula was resting his head next to yours until you heard him speaking to you.

"Show time."

Pulling himself back to his knees Dracula pulled himself out of you causing you to moan loudly. Hearing him chuckling Dracula began to run his hands over your thighs as he looked up. The coolness of his fingers pulling at your attention so that when Brauner spoke you didn't lose your high.

"I can see the attraction to the human. She is very sensitive to your touch and more."

Standing up Dracula worked on fixing his hair as he smiled at Brauner.

"She is very sensitive Brauner. The greatest thing though. Is how she tastes after such a tussle. Would you like a taste?" Hearing Dracula offering you up like that shook you from your daze. When you tried to get his attention Dracula kept his eyes forward as he moved to the side of you with his arms open. "There is nothing that tastes better, Brauner. And I have you know I have not shared her with another as I am offering you. Let bygones be bygones. Hmm?"

It was taking everything in you not to move as you saw Brauner moving from the corner of your eyes. Unfortunately you saw the young bloods move when he did, but to your surprise he waved them off. As much as you didn't want to, you turned to face him and smiled as you ran your hand over your breast. Slowly Brauner lowered himself to the floor and moved to lay over you. With shaking hands you brought them up to rest on Brauner’s shoulders as he ran his nose over your neck. But before he could bite Dracula’s voice broke out.

"Ah ah ah, you may have a taste, Brauner, but you are not allowed to bite her. If you bit them others would know she belongs to a vampire. No you must cut her skin, it is easier to explain those then teeth marks."

Grunting above you Brauner raised to his hands and looked up to Dracula. Just as he was raising a hand to take the blade Dracula had for him Dracula moved.

The next thing you knew you felt something wet covering your chest and face. As you were wiping it off your eyes you realized that it was blood. Sitting up you spotted a headless body at your feet and realized that it was Brauner. Turning quickly you watched as Dracula killed the last of Brauner’s young bloods before he turned to the rest in the ballroom.

"LET IT BE KNOW THAT COUNT VLADISLAUS DRACULA DOES NOT TAKE KINDLY TO BETRAYAL." Walking back to you Dracula knelt beside you as he spoke more quietly. "Did I not tell you, you would bath in his blood?"

Before you could say anything though Dracula was running his hand over your eyes as he placed his other one behind your head and said "Sleep".

Shooting up quickly you looked around and saw that you were in a room at the inn. Pulling the covers back you noticed you were dressed in the gown Dracula had given you at the castle; and that you were cleaned of any and all blood. Pulling the gown over your head you walked to the mirror and looked over your body. Seeing no bite marks you dressed in the clothes you had been wearing the night before and as you pulled your jacket on you felt something in the pocket. Reaching into it you pulled a letter out and from the seal of it you knew it to be from Dracula. Breaking the seal you opened it.

My Dear y/n,

I am terribly sorry that you were unable to wake up next to me. But atlast I fulfilled the two promises I gave you last night. To leave my castle alive and to bathe in Brauner’s blood. And as you are now reading this in the inn, unharmed, I have fulfilled both. This now ends our deal. So I must tell you that if we are to cross paths again I will have to kill you.

Yours truly,

Count Vladislaus Dracula

Rereading the letter once more you couldn’t help but feel yourself becoming angry at his arrogance. Walking over to the fire you made sure to rip the letter into pieces before throwing it into the fire. Looking around the room once more you made sure you had all of your things before walking out the door and into the day.

#van helsing #Dracula #richard roxburgh #Dracula x reader #tw: gore #TW: blood

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tvpeongsstuff · 4 years ago

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Supreme Emperor Obi-Wan Kenobi ( part 4)

Waiting for the surgery to be completed on the commanders was both interminable and no time at all. Obi-Wan had the other troopers put binders on sidious and the imperial guards. He could not risk tham waking up and trying to get away. He wondered what it said about him that death and not force-castration was what he most wanted for all the people Vader was draining.

He could hear the buzzing of the hair clippers and then the whirring of the saw. The medidroids were efficient and the commanders were quiet. There was nothing except his own busy work to distract him from thoughts of the future.

He had one of the other troopers get a tally of all the medidroids in the building. He set another to find the statistics of troopers injured or killed in the shootout on the rotunda. Yet another was to give him a count of the total number of clone troopers with an emphasis on those on or near Coruscant. He needed printouts of troop movements since the start of the empire and campaigns that had been carried out. He could not ask a secretary for the information. Palpatine had none. He had received no thoughts from Palpatine. He took that to mean that the sith had not removed the biochips from the men.

Why would he? It was clear that sidious had wanted complete control over everyone. It was evident in the ident codes he forced the entire galaxy to adopt, in the cyborgs he turned otherwise healthy men into, in the laws he enacted to hoard power for himself. Obi-Wan prepared himself for the worst possible outcome. Maybe the biochips had been in too long; the clones may never be who they were before.

The arrival of Senator Organa was a relief. Obi-Wan wondered if the good senator was expecting treachery from him. He would hate to lose Bail's goodwill. Bail walked into the office calmly saying, "Congratulations Emperor Kenobi. That was quite a feat you pulled off. Tell me, what do you plan to do? You are a Jedi sworn to uphold republic ideals. Will you turn the empire back into a republic?"

"Yes," Obi-Wan said, "eventually. Tell me Bail, why are you here by yourself? Why did no one else come with you. I bet I can guess the answer! They want to see how I treat you and if I will be more willing to share my plans with someone who I once regarded as a friend. They hope that I won't remember how the entire senate cheered when they heard of all the Jedi murders. Well, when you leave here you can tell them not to worry. I have no plans for revenge. I meant what I said on the Senate floor. My rule will be just."

What does that mean?" Bail sounded frustrated. He was too good of a politician to allow that much real emotion into his voice with someone he did not regard as a friend. That was a relief. It meant that Bail still trusted him.

But, just then all the noise from the corner stopped. ZT-57 said, "The surgery has been a complete success Emperor. The commanders could be mobile immediately. However, they should be allowed bed rest for the next two days while the bacta patches heal the wound."

"Bacta?" Bail sounded confused, "What is going on?" Obi-Wan did not answer him. Commander Cody was walking towards him. Obi-Wan couldn't move. He could hear sobbing coming from the corner. Appo.

"Kriff, kriff, General" Cody said. His voice sounded like he had been screaming but Obi-Wan knew that not to be true. "General...I mean Emperor. Is this real?" Cody was standing before him. Obi-Wan wanted to...but he had to be sure.

"Commander Cody. Nothing has ever been more real. Do you have any questions about your biochips now?"

"Yes. So many questions. I want to know exactly what they did to us. Controlling chips! Like we were droids!" And, now Cody started crying. In the corner, Appo was gasping saying, "I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry" over and over.

Cody was shaking. "I've hunted and killed Jedi! I've killed Vod! What did they do to us? What did they do?" Obi-Wan could stand it no longer. He grabbed and hugged Cody. He did not know if this would be something that Cody would want or accept from him but he had to try. Cody wavered on his feet and collapsed bringing Obi-Wan down with him. He was still crying.

Bail cleared his throat. "What the Kriff is going on here Obi-Wan?" Obi-Wan looked up. Bail was still by the entrance to the office. Standing around them were the other troopers who were getting the reports that Obi-Wan had asked for. Every man was staring at them.

Obi-Wan did not stop comforting Cody. "The clones turned on the Jedi because they have inhibitor chips that can take over their minds and force them to carry out orders. I had two removed. As you can see the results were instantaneous. This is the truth at the heart of Sidious' empire - it is all built on slaves. Earlier you asked me what I intended.

"I plan to free the slaves."

#Supreme Emperor Obi-Wan Kenobi #au #fic #post order 66 #bail organa #obi wan kenobi #commander cody #commander appo

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honey-subs · 4 years ago

Note

an angst/fluff one: you're working for ceo!jinyoung (he looks so good in suits it should be illegal istg) as his personal assistant. he actually likes you quite a lot but due to the stress of being the ceo of one of the biggest companies he had to push you around all day not even being able to give you a minute to catch your breath if he wanted to. he still always kept a good eye on you though making sure that you're doing okay but that one time he hadn't been there you fainted (part 1)

part 2 to the ceo!jinyoung one he had been in a when it happened, you were on your way to make some copies taking the stairs as the elavator was broken. you hadn't been feeling well all morning but you forced yourself to work knowing that your boss (whom you had a crush on) needed your help. someone called out for you from behind as you nearly reached the bottom you spun around a bit too quickly as suddenly everything was spinning and you lost balance falling down the couple of stairs

this is legit turning into a secnario 3rd and last part (i hope) : an employee rushed into the meeting breaking jinyoung off. jinyoung was known for being a kind man as every employee was swooning for him because of his looks and personality, but the fact that the meeting had been quite important made him turn to the worker in annoyance, cocking an eyebrow at her. but before he could say anything he was broken off by her only now noticing how distressed the woman in front of him looked.

ceo!jinyoung second last part "it's y/n" she said, eyes watering as her voice quivered. jinyoung got worried he had a soft spot for you and this situation didn't look good. "where is she?" jinyoung asked not even caring what was up. he needed to get to you, to see you and hold you if you were in pain.. professionalism be damned. the woman told him where to find you and he rushed out after hastily dismissing everyone from the meeting. he ran to his office where you apparently were.

ceo!jinyoung (not) last part he ran to his office not caring how his own employees eyed him as he ran down the halls of the building. when he burst through the door there you were positioned on the small couch. he crouched down in front of you, wincing as he saw the small bruise on your cheek. he nudged you awake cautiously, when you woke up you told him everything that you remembered about. he took you into his trained arms after you finished. (still isn't the last part like i expected lmao)

ceo!jinyoung "can't you take care of yourself? i nearly had a heart attack when i heard about something happening to you. i thought that maybe you-" he stumbled over his own words pulling you even closer. you only realized what was happening when you felt a wet patch on your shoulder. jinyoung was crying. the strong ceo everyone admired, your crush was crying.. over you. you tried to pull away to look at him but he didn't let you. "can we just stay like this? i thought i lost you."

i gave up numbering the parts lmao- he never showed his vulnerability or softness to you so you were quite confused when he cried holding onto you for dear life. he eventually calmed down not daring to look at you, so you decided to take matters into your own hands. "why are you like this?" you asked him carefully as he was still your employer, you were on thin ice right now. "because i like you." shock was evident on your face. jinyoung took it as a bad sign. (jinyoung is a softie lmao)

ceo!jinyoung last part "y- you like me?" you stuttered out and jinyoung looked at you pain flashing in his eyes as he prepared himself for rejection. he nodded watching your reaction carefully. "it's okay.. i get it." he mumbled about to stand up but you turned him back to you. "i like you too you idiot." and with that you pressed your lips onto his your tounges fighting for dominance but as a whine left jinyoungs mouth you took control.. leaving the rest to your imagination lmao

CEO - Park Jinyoung

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

⤷pairing - jinyoung x (could be gender neutral?) reader

⤷genre - angst, fluff

⤷summary - the summary is basically up there lmfao aosjejsksj

⤷warnings -sub!jinyoung, dom!reader, fainting, boss x employee relationship, suggestive, mentions of injuries

⤷notes - long asf, so grab some popcorn.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

you knew the moment you accepted the job that your work would be hard. but did you imagine it’d be this hard? hell no. you’d never wanted to cuss out an inanimate object more tham right now — this morning as you woke up. you threw an arm over your eyes as you huffed out a sigh. you threw the blankets off your body and got up to get ready for the stressful day ahead. you didn’t really feel well, it felt like your head was splitting, and you tired to ignore it as you made your way to the bathroom.

you rolled your eyes as you looked at your reflection in the mirror, scoffing as you reached for a tooth brush. you had to rush a bit, moving quickly around your house as you multitasked — brushing your teeth as you searched for an outfit in your closet. you finally settled on some ripped skinny jeans and an oversized shirt.

you return to the bathroom to finish brushing your teeth, and eventually struggle to put on your outfit for the day. you finally exited your room and went to the kitchen to grab a banana nut muffin as your small breakfast. you hurry out or the door, yelling out a goodbye to your still-asleep-roommate.

it was a struggle to get through the bustling streets of your city, mumbling excuses as you pushed your way through the crowd. you sighed and shook your head when you made it to the coffee shop that your boss favored. the barista smiled at you, already knowing what you wanted before you even opened your mouth to speak.

“here you go, y/n! i hope your day goes well.” she says apologetically, knowing how hard mr. park could be on people, especially assistants. you smiled back at her before rushing out of the door with a goodbye.

it’s not that long of a walk to the office building you worked in, so you didn’t complain too much on the way there. mr. park operated in a tall business building, around 60 floors in the building alone; not including other branches that held specific professions. you pulled open the doors of the main building, and walked in — ready to start your long work day.

you too the elevator all the way up to the top floor, the 60th floor. you knock on the door three times, signifying that it was you and not anyone else. “come in.” your heard his smooth silky voice from inside the room, so you pushed the door open to step inside. he was standing up and fixing some misplaced files on his desk. he gave you a firm smile as he looked up for a split second.

mr. park himself couldn’t deny the bubbly feeling in his stomach he had when he saw you enter his office. he tried his best to push it down so that it wouldn’t interfere with his workplace. he hoped you didn’t notice the pink blush that spread across the tips of his ears.

“here’s your coffee, sir.” you place the coffee in a holder on his desk. and you don’t notice it — which he’s thanking the gods for. “thank you.” he says, not looking up, being more focused on his desk than you. finally, he does look up and he has a thick stack of papers in his arms. “here. take these, make around... 200 copies? thanks.” he gives you yet another tight smile. “is there anything else you need, mr. park?” you ask, a fake smile plastered to your face. “actually yes, after you make the copies, i need you to go to each wing and make sure they have the copies they need, if they don’t make a hundred per wing. i also want you to make sure checks are filed. i’ll be in a meeting later at about four, so i need you to clean my office a bit, thanks.” he says, moving to sit down. he hopes that was enough to keep you busy for the rest of the day so he wouldn’t have to suffer seeing your beautiful face again, he probably wouldn’t be able to control his words or blush if he saw you again.

you try to keep your look of disdain and annoyance off your face as the paper weighed your arms down. “anything else?” you asked through gritted teeth. “no, that’s all.” you exit the door, and exhale once you’re out. your headache has gotten worse since you left your apartment, almost loosing your balance as you became stressed at the mere thought of all you had to do. you huffed out a breath and got to work on going to the copy room.

as you’re on your 199th copy, your grumbling to yourself and shaking your head. ‘he’s lucky i have feelings for him.’ you thought to yourself, rolling your eyes. if you didn’t have feelings forhim, you most likely would’ve quit by now. the 200 copies you needed were finally finished, and you took them all, plus the originals, back up to his office via elevator.

“here are your papers, mr. park.” you told him, quickly pushing the papers onto his desk so you could do the task he had set for you next. “y/n, wait.” he told you, fixing his suit and tie, and trying to keep from stuttering out his sentence. “my meeting got pushed forward, so could you clean my office now before you do everything else, thanks.” it wasn’t a question, it was more of an order. he let his eyes linger onto you to make sure you were okay with all the tasks he pushed onto you — and you seemed okay for the most part. he pushed past you to leave his office and go to his meeting.

you heard the door close behind you, and you allowed your hands to fall to your sides with a slap. you sighed, and winced as a wave of pain from your headache washed over you. you groaned, doing your best to start cleaning. his office would be easy to clean, it wasn’t messy per se, it was just cluttered. you fixed papers around the room and put things in their respective places.

you were done quickly, within an hour or two, sighing as you shut off a light and left the office, on to do the next task. your headache-turned-migraine only got worse. you felt like you could’ve screamed when you found out the elevator was broken and out of order. you gifted your teeth and clenched your fists to keep from lashing out as you stomped your way to the stairs.

yet another wave of pain flowed through you as you made your way down the stairs. you paused for a moment to regain balance, placing your hand on the wall to steady yourself. “y/n? are you okay?” you spun around on your heel quickly to see who called for you. a major mistake.

it seemed like everything was moving in slow motion. your coworker looked at you with eyes wide with curiosity and concern. she still hadn’t register the fact that you were falling. your hand slipped off the wall, and your fell backwards. your migraine caused you to get dizzy with pain and fatigue, your eyes closing slowly. the last thing you saw was your coworker putting their hands over their mouth as they were frozen in place and watched you fall.

you felt your head tip back, and your back make contact with the hard edges of the stairs. your body folded and tumbled as continued to fall down the stairs. when the fuck did the staircase get so long? it felt like forever until you reached the ending stopping point, laying flat on your back. eyes closed.

the coworker couldn’t believe what she just saw. you were one of the most loved and important people at the business firm, and to watch you fall like that was scary. she immediately called for help, gaining he attention of many nearby people, telling them to help you to mr. parks office while she told mr. park himself.

she ran, as best she could considering her choice of shoes, towards the meeting room, barging in without making herself known. mr. park immediately turned to glare at one of his employees, and tell them off for interrupting the meeting, but he looked at the distress on her face and paused. “i-it’s y/n!” she says, eyes watering and tears beginning to fall. “what is it?” he asked urgently, moving towards her as he dismissed everyone from the meeting room. he put bass in his voice as he asked again. “what is it?” he stared her down. “she- she fainted as she was going to the west wing. she wasn’t moving after she fell!” she says, tears flowing freely down her cheeks.

“take me to her,” he says, trying not to imagine the worst. she nods for a short second before hurrying out of the meeting room, and jinyoung was not on her heels. he couldn’t help the thoughts that took over his mind. if something terrible did happen to you, it would’ve been all his fault. his fault for working her so hard just for his selfish benefit — so he could mask his own feelings.

she pushed open the door and allowed jinyoung to enter first before she did. he could feel his heart crumple at the sight of you, laying unmoving and unconscious on the small black couch in his office. “can you um, can you give us some alone time?” he asked, walking forward. the coworker along with the other two people in the room nodded, leaving immediately.

he looked down at you, biting his lip as he tried not to show his most vulnerable emotion. you were covered in bruises and marks, and apparently they had a doctor come because there was a bandage wrapped around your back and your head, and probably another place he couldn’t see. the moment he freed his lips from his teeth, it quivered immediately.

he wasn’t an emotional person, but seeing the person he was most likely in love with in a state like this, really broke him. he pulled up a chair and sat down, leaning his head forward.

he sat like that for awhile, ignoring everyone when they came and told him to eat. “why does everything hurt?” he looked up instantly to see you wincing as you tried to move. “my chest feels like that one time i had a cigarette. teen me lived for danger.” you mumbled, moving a hand to cup your head where you felt bandages. (i really hope someone got that reference) “hey, hey, hey, wait, you shouldn’t be moving so much.” he murmured, slowly leaning you back so that you were resting on a pillow again. “what happened? are you okay?”he asked, swelling the lump that formed in his throat.

“i’m fine. i guess i fainted..? the last things i remember are heading to the west wing to check on them, and someone called my name. i turned around to fast i guess and fell. i wasn’t feeling well prior to that though.” you explained, straining to remember what happened. he chewed on his lips, taking a deep breath. “can’t you take care of yourself? i thought something happened to you and you almost gave me a heart attack. everything would’ve been my fault and i just-“ he paused his words and leans forward, engulfing you in a hug. unsurely, you wrapped your arms around him as well.

soon you felt a wet patch on your shoulder. it shocked you a bit. everyone thought of him as this strong and thoughtful and all powerful CEO, yet here he was, crying over you because he thought he lost you. you pulled away slowly, trying to meet his eyes. he kept his head down, a slight sniffle came from him as he wiped his eyes and his nose. “are you okay, mr. park?” you asked, using a soft and comforting tone. he let out a bitter laugh. “it would’ve been all my fault. you would’ve- something terrible could’ve happened to you and it would’ve been because of me. because i couldn’t face my own feelings.” he smiled for a split second to keep more tears from spilling.

“what?” you asked confusedly, maybe it was the concussion, but nothing seemed to be making sense. “i like you, at this point maybe even love you. i understand its wrong because i’m your boss but the thought of loosing you today just broke me.” he said, sniffling again with a bitter smile. you couldn’t control the expression of shock on your face as your eyes widened considerably. your crush and boss just admitted his feelings for you.

“you like me?” you asked slowly, processing the information. clenching his jaw, he nodded, preparing himself mentally and emotionally for rejection and heart break. “i- uh, i completely understand.” he cracks a small smile. he begins to get up. “i’ll leave you alone so you can process every-“ you pull him down by his tie so that he was on top of you on the couch. you connected your lips with his slowly. he easily allowed you dominance which was surprising.

the both of you pulled away breathlessly. “i like you too.” you told him as you watched his cheeks tent red. he peels himself away from you, opting to sit beside you. it’s amazing how shy he got instantly after you pulled away, ears red as he played with his fingers. “i hope you know this means that i’m not taking my eyes off you. y’know, to make sure you don’t get hurt again,” he says with a nervous laugh.

“i won’t mind that.” you tell him, pulling him towards you again.

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zuffer-weird-girl · 5 years ago

Text

'What does the devil fear..?'

You know those days when you wake up and feels like... not wanting to exist at all?

He was having one of those. And he didn't like it one bit. All due to a night terror of his.

Just about two months ago you were almost shoted and kidnapped due to your relationship with him and your strings with the yakusa... not only you were a easy target by many rivals gangs, but also the heroes were constantly at your back... his rage and disgust only growing even more at them for involving someone that he parcially apreciated and wanted to leave them at peace.

He felt like utterly trash when he scolded you once for being late for a date, only for you to explain that one hero named sir. Nighteye stopped you along with bubble girl on the street to interrogate you about what were your exactly affiliations with Chisaki Kai.

He knew that when he entered your life... your whole world was turned upside down. You weren't exactly safe in anywhere, everyone on this stupid and sick society looked down at his angel for only being with him.

Guilt wasn't a constant feeling on this man's life... but now? He felt that this was consuming him, little by little.

Not only that but... he is a mess. Despite his arrogance, he knew ever since he was little; due to those two that he reduses to call mother and father; that he was... broken. Not physically but mentally ill.

Cursed.

Pops was kind and generous enough to take him out of the streets and the once hell he lived in... but yet, after so many years, never he found a way to show his gratitude to the old man... and the solutions he had to bring the yakusa to their once glory were neglected immediately by his mentor.

This angered him to no ends... why didn't he listened? Was he that... useless and broken?

Normally he would voice out his frustations to you... he felt light and relaxed when he just vented with you for the first time... yet extremely frustated at himself for just depositing all of his own frustations on the first and only person who said it out loud that loved him and him reciprocated... honestly loved him, not by fear or because someone or him demanded it.

Love... also another thing he couldn't understand... neither voice it out loud. He was a man of action, not words. But he was just so awkward and his cursed mysophobia didn't helped him at all.

Never on his life he felt good about touching someone. You weren't sick, nothing about you made him cringe in disgust. Yet he was so hesitant and aprehensive of touching you... corrupting that sweet and angelic skin with his own disgusting disease called 'quirk'.

He sighed, feeling all of his body way too cold than normal... his hand coming to fist the area where his dark and cold heart layed on.

He didn't deserved living. He didn't deserved being taken in by the yakusa.... He didn't deserved his angel.

All he deserved was to burn on the deepest flames of hell... and he didn't even doubt or neglected tgat as soon as he died he was going straight forward to this place... where he belonged.

Away from the one he loved. Yes, he loved (Y/n)... it took way longer tham necessary for him to realize that... but what does it matter?

You will be taken away from him at any moment or just leave him in the dark by hatred, fear or even disgust.

The thought killed him, hurted more than one or two stabs would... he was already used to pain... but not this kind.

His breath quickened and he tried to take slow breaths, in and out, but he was far too gone when the disgusting warm liquid accumulated on his eyes and were threatening to spill from his eyes and fall on his pillow.

A knock on the door caught his attention, he didn't even bothered looking at who was opening the door as he numbly stared at the ceiling, still gripping on his shirt and bed sheets like his life depended on it.

"Kai, Pops asked me to call you." Kurono spoked, frowning hsi eyebrows at seing that his childhood friend didn't even looked at him "we... are going to-"

"I don't want it." He hoarsely spoked out, cringing at hearing how his voice sounded so weak.

"Want to at least come? Probably the old man is going to spill some news from the others gangs. It could be useful."

Kai shooked his head and did something that left Hari with wide eyes, noticing how Chisaki was NOT well at all.

"You can leave Hari. Just please leave me alone." He numbly spoked as he still looked up at the ceiling.

Hari. Not Chrono, not Kurono, not block head or other stupid title. Chisaki NEVER used his first name. Not even comenting that HE ASKED for him to leave. Not demanded.

He nodded hesitantly and closed the door, scratching at the back of his neck as he made his way to where Pops was waiting. Just as he entered he started to tell Pops about the situation... the elder widening his eyes before letting out a sigh and getting up as well.

He knocked on the door and put on a smirk before completpy falling when he heard numb sniffles... Chisaki still layed on his back and gaze on the ceiling, just like Hari described it for him.

"My boy you're feeling sick?" He asked with crossed arms, furrowing his eyebrows at not receiving a answer "Chisaki." He called again, the young man only blinked before muttering that he was listening.

"What happened Kai? You surely aren't okay..."

"... Hari will take my place on my duties today. Tell him that if it isn't much asked Pops."

Okay. This was dead serious. Chisaki trusting other people to do his own work? His brat wasn't alright. Definitely not.

"Pops with all respect I have towards you... I would likd to be left alone, if its not much asked." Pops furrowed even more his eyebrows and nodded, freezing in worry when he heard his sucessor's trembling breath.

He got out and was soon metted with Irinaka and Chrono, both with crossed arms whille waiting.

"He is sick?" Mimic asked, Pops shocking his head as he brought one hand to his chin as he thought for a second.

"He is acting weird since the accident with miss (Y/n) but never on my life I saw him on that state." Chrono muttered, turning his head at Pops when he hummed.

"... the only person who can put some sense and easy the usual beast that is Chisaki, is that girl..." Pops mused out loud before snapping his fingers with a 'oh!' before he looked at both Chrono and Mimic.

"What's the order boss?" Mimic already spoked, Pops furrowing his eyebrows a bit at looking at the closed door before he sighed.

"Bring Chisaki's little medication. I will call (Y/n) to warn about you both picking her up."

Both nodded before they went towards the exit of the house, Pops walking away thorigh the halls as he picked his phone and started to hit the spefic numbers.

"Good morning my dear (Y/n). I apologize to bother you in such a hour, but mind doing me a big favor? I would be very grateful of it" He spoked with his phone om his ear.

You nervously fisted the material of the clothing of your leg as Hari drived with Mimic's on the passing seat.

Both had picked you up just when you got out from your last therapy session. You had to apologize to your therapist for receiving a call on the middle of the session, but she was understanding on seing your look of worry when you saw Pops calling and explaining the situation.

"(Y/N). Not going to lie. I was fucking scared when he called me by my first name and with that tone of voice." Chrono spoked suddenly as he turned on a street.

"Yeah. Things are dead ass serious. He didn't got up ever since then." Mimic agreed with his friend as be looked a bit at you "Think you can fix it?"

"I hope so... if neither of you knows what is happening or got him out even despite knowing him more than I do... what gives me the vhance of vhanging something?"

Both bitterly let out a chuckle, Mimic almost quacking at your coment while you arched one eyebrow at both.

"Fuck miss you're not that dumb. Come on. Overhaul is with you for a reason."

"We may know Chisaki longer, but you're definitely the only one that actually know his... whole persona. After all... tell us one more person that touched him and he reciprocated without intentiond of killing?"

You furrowed your eyebrows together, adoring the words but yet still worried. Pops himself told you that Chisaki was... devasted, and he didn't even knew the motive.

The car stopped and you didn't even let neither of the man open the door for you, anxiously getting out if the vehicle and making your way inside the Shie Hassaikai residence.

"I'm relieved that you came." Pops smiled for a bit before he guided you through the halls, even despite you knowing already that place like it was your own.

You stopped in front of the door, Pops pattimg your shoulder and saying that no one would be listened, but gently asked you for at least ease down the storm that it was probably inside the dark brow haired man.

You took a shaking breath before gently opening the door and closing it behind you. Your heart shattwring at seing that what Kurono and pops described you of was the true.

The only difference and the most hurtful one... was that you saw that even despite the numb face he was wearing it, he had tears slipping down is face.

You took slow steps to be on his side, before you jumped a bit at the suddem breath he took.

"What are you doing in here?" He asked, voice broken but a hint of annoyance on it.

"I was worried. I got the news that you didn't even moved ever since morning." You sitted on the bed, feeling your form shake a bit die to your nerves.

"... you should go." You made a confused and hurt noise before your eyes soften in worry at seing the frow on his face as he still didn't broke his look from the ceiling.

"Don't play dumb. You should go. You're only getting hurt due to my affiliations..."

"Well-" you cooed blocking his view with your head, smiling down at him as his eyes widen a bit at seing you in there instead of the monotonous and cold ceiling. "I did sign up for it when I fell for you didn't I?"

Wrong choice of words apparently. You noticed that the moment Chisaki jjst closed his eyes to prevent him to look at your own as he let out a shattered breath.

"You're sick. Sick. Definitely sick." He shook his head and you furrowed your eyebrows as you distanced your self a bit from him.

Chisaki could call you by 1001 nicknames or titles, but 'sick' was one that he neglected of ever using it on you unless he was rarely feeling playfull... never like this. Complete serious.

"Why is that? I will have you know i did my exams." You tried to joke a bit but flinches when he got up abruptly, looking at you with what anyone else could be described with rage.

But you knew better... his eyes were screaming only one sentence.. 'don't say that.'

He wasn't mad at you... no. He was mad at himself. But why though?

"You still has the courage of asking? (Y/n)." He growled while lowering his head, fisting the back of his head in one glived hand "How can you say this without a hint of regret? Without a hint of fear for your life? Hell you were almost shoted and kidnapped some months ago because of me!"

"Hey, if this is about that, you know it wasn't your fault my devil, we ta-"

"No. You can't convince me that it wasn't my fault. Because it was. It is my fault that your damn life turnes to hell because of my selfish wish of having you by my side." He growled while you furrowed your eyebrows at seimg the familiar yet undesirable hives start to form on his skin.

"Kai, love, calm down-" you tried to touch him but he flinched away with wide and red eyes.

"Don't. Don't just be a damn suicidal idiot! You do know what my quirk does, so why you still insist on touching me?! Don't you know I can kill you qnd put it back like nothing ever changed?! I do this everyday without regrets!"

The hives were getting bigger while he got up on his feet, he started to scrub feevently at his forearm and left hand as you got up hesitantly as well.

"Kai. I know this. I know all that. But you never used your quirk on me without a damn good reason."

"See it? I already used it. Nobody can tells that I won't just-"

"But do you WANT to kill me Chisaki Kai?" You spoke a bit more sternly, getting a bit creeped out when he laughed bitterly.

"Of course I fucking don't! But I didn't had the intentions of killing that garbage either when I was young! Although I have no regrets of that decision." He growled while he scratched his skin as his eyes were wide and a vein was almost popping out in his temple.

"Kai this has nothing to do with us-!"

"Oh please don't act like you didn't feared me once in your life. You will sure one day woke up from that delusion you vreated of me and will leave me on the dark." He growled while lowering his head, cringing when he felt that known red fluid.

"Why do you say that?! Why do you keep thinking that I will just ran or leave you Chisaki?!" You opened in your arms in disbelief as you almost screamed.

"BECAUSE YOU SHOULD DAMMIT!" You flinched at the string and thundering shout he let out, he stopped scrubbing in his arm to make desperate and angru hands gestures while he sinply gave up on controling his tears.

"WHY CAN'T YOU SEE THAT I AM A CURSE ON YOUR DAMN LIFE (Y/N)?! FUCK!" he brought one of his hands to cover his face as he cringed at felling his glives getting wet from his tear "I AM A MONSTER! A KILLER! A YAKUSA! A MURDER! HELL, A DAMN SOCIOPATH!"

You felt all fo your body going cold but not because of fear... it was because you were seing your lover most probably worst breakdown...

"Kai-"

"NOT EVEN COMMENTING THAT THOSE DISGUSTING SICK HEROES GET ON YOUR BACK BECAUSE OF ME! WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU COULD SIMPLY WALK ON THE STREET WITHOUT DIRTY LOOKS?! HUH?!"

His tears fell almost violently on the floor as you slowly took one step at a time towards him... calmly, slowly...

"I RUIN EVERTHING (Y/N)! AND AS MUCH AS I LOVE YOU, CRAVE YOUR PRESENCE BESIDES ME, I CAN'T JUST PRETEND THAT I DIDN'T DESTROYED YOUR LIFE WITH MY SELFISH WISH OF HAVING YOU AS MY GIRLFRIEND DAMMIT!"

He hund his head low, his shoulder shaking violently as he still continued his vent.

"Why..?!" He cried hand once in his head falling miserably on his side as he looked at you, the most broken and saddest loom you ever saw on Chisaki's face.

"WHY CAN'T YOU SEE THAT I DESERVE IT BEING LEFT ALONE AND THAT YOU ONLY WILL GET HURT, BECAUSE AND BY ME?!"

You blinked your own tears while Chisaki just let out a miserable sob and fell to his knees on the ground, gripping each dide of his face with his hands as he miserably let out all what he had bottled up...

You wiped your tears away from your face with a scowl, more determined than ever as you kneeled down in front of him.

"Hey." You called, no response. "Look at me." He inly shook his head stubbornly as he bitted in his own tongue to stop the river of tears.

You clenched your teeth together as you grabbed onto his shoulders and touched foreheads with him.

"Chisaki Kai look at me!" You whisper yelled, finally catvhing his attention as he looked into your eyes, still with jaw clemvhed while the tears stopped with a fraction of seconds... eyesbrows furrowed.

"First. I did shower and sterilized my hands." He sobbed while you winced... okay this only worsened.

"Second. Kai for God's sake, I knew where I was getting into when I met you... being part of the yakusa or having a relationship with the leader leads to that! You warned me!"

"So why the hell didn't you lis-"

"Because I am in love with you!" You said gently while carefully lifting his head a bit while cupping his face in your hands, him lookimg down at you. "Kai you made me fall for you! Being whatever you are or aren't."

He scoffed and went to look down before his breath got caught on his throat when you were close to his face... your warm breath spreading on his face as you looked up at him.

"Is it so wrong of me to love you?" He wemt to speak but you grabbed his hand with a hush "No is not. I am a full grow adult just as you, and know damn well of the consequences of dating the leader of the Shie Hassaikai."

He started to calm down with his tremblimg, savoring like a starved animal from your sweet carress of your thimbs in his face and hand.

"Heroes on my back and dirty looks on the street? One answer to them. Fuck. Those. Sick. Bastards." You giggled at the look he gave it to you "I am dating the most handsome and overprotective man I ever met. I feel safe around you, it doesn't matter what you do or did, because I know who at least my boyfriend is."

He breathed out a sigh, shoulders sagging as he got enough strength to get up alomg with you to sit on the bed instead.

"And one last thing... I can take many bullets or shouts... but what truly hurts me more on this, is seing the love of my life suffering over something he can't control it..." you nuzzled your nose against his as bis breath got caught on his throat "And that's alright. Because when people love each other they suffer with the other pain and problems... and Kai, even if you don't say that out loud, you show it to me, everyday, that you care. That I matter something for you." You wiped one tear away from his cheek woth a smile

"And that is all I ever wanted. You're honest Kai. Bold honest. And I am so lucky to be yours... don't just say that I should leave you... because not only I know you would send precepts to haunt me, but because I won't do it. Simple as that. Trust me..." you pleaded with a smile.

His breath catched on his throat again as he finally let out a mixture of a broken sob and a scoff, burring his face on your neck as he let out more cries, grabbing onto your shirt like if je let it go, ghose words he just had listened were mere lies or hallucinations.

"I'm sorry..!" He muffled cried on your neck as you sighed through your nose with a smile... hugging him with one arm as your hand came up to stroke his hair.

"Sorry about what I wonder..?" You sadly commented "For being the men you are? Please dont be sorry about that... I love with all my soul the man I fell for..." he let out a broken whimper as he buried even more his face on your nevk to muffle his cries.

"I am a fucking sociopath-"

"My sociopath."

"(Y/N) stop. We both know that you would be-"

"Crying like a baby alone in my room watching series if I didn't have you." You giggled and stroked his hair more, feeling his eyebrows furrowing in your skin.

He scoffed but relaxed a bit in your hold, getting up from your neck to rest his head on your forehead with a sigh.

"My head... dammit." He growled while lifting his hand a bit to rest on his temple.

He opened his eyes when he felt you wiping a liquid that was scrolling down his nose... his face burning in embarrassment and disgust. But yet he sighed while nuzzling his head on you.

"Don't just touch that, is disgusting." He growled at your giggles but smiled no less...

His angel was here to stay... whether he derving it or not.

#overhaul x reader #overhaul scenario #fanfic overhaul #overhaul #chisaki kai imagine scenario #chisaki kai x reader #kai chisaki #chisaki kai #bnha imagine #bnha x reader #bnha characters #bnha villains #bnha #bnha imagines #my writings #zuffer writings

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mor-beck-more-problems · 5 years ago

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Melon-cholia || Morgan & Remmy

They really should put a warning sign in front of that watermelon stand at the farmer’s market.

@whatsin-yourhead

After Remmy had gone over to Deirdre’s (and Morgan’s??) for the second time, the two of them had decided Remmy needed some new, fresh ingredients. And with a rather dramatic declaration, Morgan had agreed to take Remmy to the Farmer’s Market. Remmy hadn’t had the will to fight it, so here they were now, at the Farmer’s Market, perusing the stands. Remmy had only been to one other market like this, and it wasn’t in America. There were lots of cool fresh fruit stands and Remmy, of course, had to stop at all of them and examine them. They were already putting together a fun recipe in their mind that they could do with all these local squash and berries, which were the only crops really in bloom right now, especially with the current conditions. When they reached the next gourd stand, Remmy tugged on Morgan’s sleeve. “Lookit the baby spaghetti squash!” they said, running up and grabbing one, like a kid in a candy shop. This was a candy shop to them. If only they could still taste it all. “Not good for baking, but hey-- this stuff is so good. It makes really good pasta, actually. I’m not the best at doing it, but if you should definitely try it if you haven’t!”

Morgan was excited to be out of the house with Remmy, especially to somewhere that made both of them so excited. With Miriam still out there and so many near-death experiences in her wake, having a semi-indestructible friend added a certain level of ease. She strolled with her friend, a picnic basket dangling from each hand. She beamed as Remmy ran off, more excited than she’d seen them the last couple of times. She’d have thought that a normal movie night or two would have brightened their day, but there was something hanging over her friend. But maybe she just hadn’t hit the right button. “We should get some! I think squash has less iron than your regular pasta anyways. Maybe it’ll spice up pasta night.” She waved at the vendor and handed them exact change before sticking a couple into her basket. “How do you know so much about food? I could’ve sworn you were living like a college kid when you first rolled into town. Ooh, and what kind of pie were you thinking of? I sense some kind of flavor adventure on your mind.”

“Oh, um, I always really liked cooking,” Remmy explained as they picked out the best ones, setting them in Morgan’s basket. “My mom was a professional baker, she like, had her own place, I guess. I mean, I never got to see it or anything, since, you know…” they trailed off a little, before moving on quickly, “but I guess I picked up that from her. The um...cooking food thing. It’s like, my way of destressing. You just get to like, put stuff together and make something and it’s like...following recipes and stuff is easy. I think I’m better at baking than regular cooking cause of that.” They headed over to the next stand, an organically grown local fruit stand, and started picking through the berries. “Oh, um...I’m thinking some sort of wildberry or mixed berry rhubarb. They’re about the only kinds growing right now and it’s always an easy flavor to make good.” Not that they would know anymore. They were practically salivating at the idea of this pie. Maybe they’d make a second one with brains, so they could enjoy some, too. “Do you think that’d be good?”

“Oh, Rem--” Morgan said softly. “Of course, yeah. Um,” she felt weird and sheepish contributing, when Remmy knew so little about their own mother, when all this had started as a way to soothe that void. “My mom liked to say that cooking was the most accessible magic in the world. Cooking and baking was one of the times we mostly got along. Later, anyway, when I was better at it. She taught me all the good tricks, including how to make burgers the way Nora likes.” They moved on from the stand and closer towards the fruit vendors. “Rhubarb is amazing! And it’ll be out of season soon. The berries will balance it out, I think. The hardest part is always getting the rhubarb texture just right. And then we’ll maybe do the top crust in the shape of animals and bones? Or flowers and bones? I don’t know, but practicing shapes the last time I tried was really fun, and it’ll come out way less lumpy with you to make them since you’re an actual artist.” She searched the rows, trying not to get too distracted by the first bushel of blueberries. “Hey,” she said. “Is that...a watermelon stand?”

“I’ve never really cooked with anyone else,” Remmy commented off hand, picking up a bushel of raspberries that looked nice and fresh. The set it in their little basket before moving on to the blackberries. “I think it sounds good, too! I love rhubarb. Hopefully the sweetness of the berries will cut the sourness of it like strawberries do, but they’re not in season yet.” They smiled up at her. “We can definitely do little shapes. I think flowers and bones would be fun. But like-- I’m not really an artist. I’m sure yours were fine, anyway.” They put another bushel in their basket before pausing. “Watermelon? But...they’re not in season…” They wandered a bit closer. It was a whole patch of them, still on the vine, sitting in a makeshift plot with dirt. As they got closer they even noticed that these melons were larger than normal, too. “Wow, I didn’t think you could get these two grow way up here this early,” they said nonchalantly to the guy tilling the dirt beside them. He didn’t speak. Remmy looked back at Morgan. “Should we get a water--” they started, but in the next second, something was biting down on the hand they had extended towards the fruit with a loud CRUNCH! noise.

Morgan wasn’t sure what to make of the watermelon patch out of nowhere. It wasn’t the right season for them, not even close. And yet, they did look strangely ripe, so fat and green Morgan could already taste the juice in her mouth. And she’d never tried to make anything with watermelon before. They were always perfect sliced and scooped just as they were. But maybe a nice loaf, or some cookies… Morgan wandered into the patch while she thought, considering the possibilities. She was in too deep by the time she heard a wet, crunching sound next to her. Morgan turned, startled, and saw Remmy lift a bloody, handless arm from a watermelon with two perfect rows of sharp, dripping teeth. The two of them screamed. Morgan backed away, gasping with disbelief. She only made it a few feet before a vine snapped behind her ankle and she was on her back, staring at four more hungry mouths like the one that had snapped at her friend. “Remmy!” She shrieked.

Remmy was quiet for a long time, just staring at the spot where their hand was inside a watermelon’s mouth. A watermelon. Had their hand. In its mouth. A watermelon. Finally, it let go and Remmy pulled their arm back, now a stump. They looked at Morgan. They both screamed, Remmy more so about the watermelon with a mouth than their handless stump. It had already started regrowing, anyway. Stumbling back, Remmy turned to try and leap out of the patch, but Morgan called out their name and they swerved, tripping over vines and lumps of watermelon. Four of them were descending on Morgan. Remmy’s body stiffened and a sudden feeling came over them. They remembered the feeling down at the beach, punching through lobsters to keep them away from their friends. They remembered being in the ring, the crowd cheering them on excitedly. Show them what it means to be a monster, Felix had said. Make them feel it. Remmy leapt up quickly, then, senses honing. They pulled a fist back before letting it punch straight through one of the melons. The next one got a swift kick. The third got the back end of their heel, watermelon guts? Splashing everywhere. Remmy swerved on the fourth, clasped their hands-- one made only of bone-- and slammed them down on top of it, smashing it as if it’d fallen from a twenty foot roof. “Go!” they shouted, turning to Morgan, trying to lift her up, tearing at the vine. “C’mon, let’s go!”

Morgan was scrambling on her back, too frightened to use her hands for alchemy, too frightened to find the coordination to get to her feet. She felt one on her leg, snapping down and smacked it with her fist, denting the shell. She pushed herself, panting with fear all the while, and funneled energy out of her cuff to turn the fruit into a wave of water. It vanished with a splash as Remmy pulled on her. Morgan took their arm and clung on tight, kicking her feet up and running off with them, the tiny, pointy fangs, still lodged in her calf. “What was that! What was that? Did you see that? And how did you--” Morgan cried out again and pulled away. “Shit, your--your hand--shit--doesn’t that hurt? Shit, Remmy, it got you and you just--shit.”

There were sounds of screaming as Remmy yanked Morgan out and away and towards safety, practically carrying her. A man was shouting after tham, people were scattering, but Remmy could deal with that later. Right now, they just needed to get Morgan away from this. Away from the danger. Protect her. Save her. Hands-- well, hand-- covered in watermelon juice and dirt, the other slowly growing its way back, sinew and muscle wrapping around the exposed bone. Finally, Morgan’ yanked away and Remmy was thrown back into the present, rather suddenly. Their head spun a moment, and they blinked. Everything finally came back to real time. Noise came back full rush and Remmy shook their head, straightening out their vision. “I--” they looked down at their hand, “it’s fine. Doesn’t hurt.” Looked back up at Morgan, still finding it difficult to concentrate. They smelled blood, eyes dropping to her leg. “You’re hurt. We-- we have to get back to the car. You have a first aid kit in the car, right? Deirdre’s gonna be so mad I let you get hurt,” they said, words tumbling from their mouth, trying to fill the spaces between Morgan’s questions so that they wouldn’t have to answer them.

“I’m hurt? Are you--” Morgan checked herself. She was half soaked on one side and--oh. The teeth. She hadn’t been accounting for the teeth, and they were lodged, in two perfect, red streaked smiles, down her leg. Not too deep, she was sure she’d feel it worse if they were, but thin streaks of blood were already running down her skin. Morgan sighed. “You know, if this is just going to keep happening the rest of the year, maybe you can bottle me the trick to your regrowable skin. I would love to, you know, just once, not feel like the kids working at Rite-Aid are judging me when I roll in again.” She braced herself against Remmy looking very determinedly away from the sinew of their regrowing muscle. It made her stomach turn to linger on, it didn’t seem like a part of them at all, it looked wrong. “She’ll freak out and want to be my personal escort the next time I--well, at this point, do anything. But if it wasn’t for you I might be on a gurney back to Nurse Denise and not regrowing my extremities!” Morgan took a minute to reign in her breathing. She was hot, she was throbbing in her ears, “If we can just...um...sit somewhere with less teeth? That would be great…”

“It’s not magic, it’s because I’m dead,” Remmy said flatly, before shaking off the angry thought that was bubbling in their stomach. They shook their head, helped Morgan over somewhere to sit and kneeled in front of her. “Lemme see it,” they said, reaching out to start plucking the teeth that had stuck in her skin. Remmy looked around for something to help staunch the blood and clean it up, but all they had was an old napkin they’d stuffed into their pocket. They dabbed at the blood, trying not to look up at Morgan, to let her see the sudden rise of anxiety and fear creeping onto their face. “It’s...it’s not too bad. Doesn’t look too deep. Here…hold this, I’m gonna try and pull the rest of the um, teeth out.”

“I didn’t mean—” Morgan began, but Remmy looked more upset than any explanation could cover. When she was sitting on one of the benches laid out for the event she bent down to try and look at them. “I’m sorry, Remmy,” she said solemnly. “I wasn’t thinking like...like that. I’m sorry.” Remmy was very focused, however, and she didn’t know how to reach through their concentration. It didn’t help that she really did need those teeth out. Morgan took hold of the napkin and squeezed it tight in her fist as Remmy plucked away at each one. She clenched her jaw and did her best to hold still, to swallow her whimpers of pain. She was getting better at it, with all the practice her curse had been giving her, but a strangled sound still burst from her mouth as Remmy worked at one that was proving a little tricky. She flushed, embarrassed, and tried to think of something to say. “Thank you,” she said lamely.

“It’s fine,” Remmy said after a long time, prying the last tooth out of Morgan’s leg as best they could and tossing it into the grass. The screaming from down at the market had seemed to stop and Remmy cast a glance down that way to double check. Nothing to see. “I know.” They stood up, holding their hand out to her. “We should, um, get you home. So that we can like, properly take care of that. Clean it out, make sure there’s no like, debris in it.” Their hand that had gotten snacked on was now fully back, and they flexed the fingers, making sure to offer Morgan the one that hadn’t just regrown. Blanche always got sick about it, so they wanted to make sure Morgan didn’t get upset, either. It was still something they were getting used to themself, but they didn’t really have the ability to dwell on it like others. It was a part of them, now. A part of being undead. “You don’t have to thank me. I was just, you know...doing what any friend would. Should. Um...protecting you.”

Morgan took Remmy’s hand and stood-- “--Shit!” And sagged against them as her leg lit up with pain. Without the teeth, without the threat of losing her extremities as Remmy had, the rest of her body came alive, exhausted and hurting. “I’m fine,” she said quicky. “It’s not serious.I just...might need you a little after all. And there is, um, first aid in the Subaru. Starting to learn my lesson there a little there. Be prepared!” She adjusted an arm around Remmy’s shoulders, supporting herself against their weight as she limped along. “I know you did it because you’re a good friend, but I can still appreciate you, Rem. And now that we’re not in danger--are you okay?” They seemed...off, half closed. The Remmy that Morgan was most familiar with didn’t have so many barriers, certainly not ones that seemed so...firm, even cold.”You can tell me the truth, Remmy,” she said.

Remmy caught Morgan as she sagged, her entire weight nothing more to them than a sack of potatoes. They put an arm around her waist to help her walk, leading them slowly back towards the car, a little disappointed they’d lost all the fresh fruit, but ultimately relieved they’d gotten away almost scott-free. Their hand wasn’t a loss, but Morgan’s wounded leg hung heavy on Remmy’s conscience. One hesitation and this was the cost. It had been easier, this time, because they had been watermelons. They weren’t really alive. Maybe brought to life by magic. But the thought of having to do that against someone still rattled in Remmy’s chest like marbles. They knew they couldn’t keep walking this line of not acting or only sometimes acting. The Ring could help with that. It was helping with that. But that wasn’t important right now. Remmy didn’t answer until they got to the car. “I just did what any friend would do,” they said quietly, opening the car door and setting Morgan inside on the seat. “I’m fine. I was never really in any danger, you know.” Held up their hand. “My limbs grow back, remember?” They paused, looked around. “Where’s the kit?”

“No,” Morgan said quietly. “Rem, you--you matter.” What was it with the people in her life not getting that? First Deirdre, sometimes Skylar, sometimes Blanche, and now Remmy. She took the kit herself out of the glovebox and tried to get to work, clumsy with pain and frustration. She passed it to her friend, then held it back, carefully raising her gaze to meet theirs. “Stop being closed off and weird. You don’t have to tell me, I know I’m still earning back your trust, but don’t be like that. Please.”

Remmy looked at Morgan, kneeling in front of her again. They were tired of arguing with people that they didn’t. They really didn’t. They weren’t supposed to even be alive, so how could they possibly even matter? But they didn’t need to dump that on Morgan. “Okay,” they said quietly, reaching for the kit when Morgan pulled it back. Ruffled their brow. “I’m not,” they insisted, “I’m not being weird. That’s not-- it’s not about that. About you...I trust you. You don’t have to earn that back. It was never gone.”

Morgan slowly handed Remmy the first aid kit to patch her up. Their hands were a lot steadier and they knew what they were doing a little better than she did. “Fine,” she mumbled. She was quiet for a moment, letting them work in silence. What was it then? What was wrong. “You are, though,” she said. “Normally you’d be telling me things. Something with a girl, or with hunters, or Blanche or you other supernatural friends. I don’t know what it is, what’s bad enough that you can’t talk about it, but I want you to be okay. If I can do anything to help get you there, I want you to at least feel like you can tell me. Okay?”

Remmy took the kit and set to patching up Morgan’s leg. Luckily she wouldn’t need stitches, but it would be sore for a few days. They pulled open an alcohol pad and looked up at her. “This might um, sting a little?” Then dabbed at her leg with the swab, trying to be gentle as she flinched. “I’m not,” they insisted quietly again, but they knew that was a lie. “I mean...there’s just nothing to tell. My life isn’t as exciting as yours, you know? It’s just been...baking and work and making sure Blanche is okay. We um-- got a new pet. Something called a Baku? It eats nightmares, so that’s cool. Well, it’s Blanche’s pet, not mine. She named her Amy Bakiago. We call her Iago for short,” they went on, pulling out some gauze and bandages to finish patching her up. “I’m glad the sun is back. That’s neat. Do you know how it happened? Was it beach lobsters again?”

Morgan had to look away to keep from squirming. In her sudden wave of injuries and accidents, she had learned that if she just looked away, she could almost convince herself she wasn’t hurting. She was somewhere else, some other version of herself else who didn’t have to get the hang of spur of the moment first aid or swallowing every whine her body wanted to make when something pressed past its low pain threshold. She hated that Remmy was avoiding her, hated to let them off the hook when something wasn’t right, but her leg was burning, and she wanted them to be able to enjoy the rest of their day together. “Nightmares, huh?” She asked. “That’s pretty wild. Is she doing okay? I mean, I guess it’s not surprising she needs sleep after all she’s been through lately, but still.” She smirked at the name. “Who’s idea was Amy Bakiago? Did you help vote on that?” She let out a slow exhale as Remmy taped the gauze in place. “Not a clue about the sun. But the sky stopped being red on its own too, didn’t it? Maybe White Crest was just...having a weird mini season.” She turned her head up to catch the glare of sunlight against streaked clouds. “Definitely wasn’t the beach. Deirdre and I went to watch the sunrise, and for once, finally, I was able to walk away without a fresh curse in my pocket.”

“I think she’s doing better,” Remmy said, “now that she has something to like...concentrate on. She even switched her major, and she’s been reading a bunch of books on like, supernatural stuff and ancient languages. My vote was for Jake Bakuralta, but Amy Bakiago is a good name, too.” They gave a weak smile. “All patched up,” they said, tapping her lightly on the knee before standing up. “Well, guess we should just count ourselves lucky that we didn’t have to deal with anything crazy for it to come back. I still wonder what happened, though…” They looked up at the sky in tandem with Morgan, squinting a little. “Must just be the weird weather, right? I missed the sunsets.”

“Me too,” Morgan said, hugging herself. She watched the sky with Remmy, as if she might absorb the bright, crisp blue into her and keep it on tap for when she couldn’t find any light of her own. It was the kind of blue she remembered from the Disney movies of her childhood, the kind you would look for in a crayon box for a picture of happiness and never find. It was the sun, she thought, the golden stain over the thin clouds. Morgan strained her eyes staring at it. How simple, how stupid, the things that could give you hope.”I guess we still need to pick up something, if you still want to make stuff together,” she said at last.

Remmy stayed quiet while Morgan did, curious as to what she might be thinking about while she searched the sunlit sky. The clouds passed between the sun and the sky, blocking it momentarily, and Remmy’s eyes fell back to the farmer’s market. People were already milling back in, as if the watermelons hadn’t just sprung to life and tried to eat people, but the man whose stand they’d been at was suddenly not there anymore. Frowning, Remmy looked back over at Morgan. “Sure, yeah,” they said, picking up the kit and setting it back in the car, “but maybe we can just go to the grocery store?”

“This is why we’re friends, Remmy. Even when you’re being weird, you still have the best ideas.” Morgan said. She hauled her legs into the Subaru and buckled herself in and took one more look at the blue sky, the bright sun, the shadow streaked clouds in the distance. “But maybe we should get you a license one of these days, huh?” She teased, brow arched. “But I could get over it if you do all the grocery lifting for me.”

#melon-cholia #wr remmy #wr chatzy #wr remmy chatzy

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lacklusterswirl · 5 years ago

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Who Knew

I’m back w more angst :) this was inspired by the song Who Knew by P!nk, but not really that close once the story kinda gets going.

“If someone said three years from now, you’d be long gone. I’d stand up and punch their mouths. ‘Cause they’re all wrong... I know better ‘cause you said forever, and ever, who knew.” Tachanka’s gone and Finka needs to find a way to keep going forward with the other Spetsnaz.

Warnings: Major character death, grief, angst, anger, self-sacrifice, suicide.

If someone had looked at the Russian bear in his drunken, laughter-filled glory and said that he’d be gone in a few years, never mind Kapkan, Tachanka himself would’ve punched them in the mouth. Because Tachanka said that he would be there for forever. Who knew?

If someone had looked at his team leader, who was like – no, was family to him, and that someone had told him to count his blessings, Glaz would’ve said that he didn’t need to. Because Tachanka said that he’d be around him for forever. Who knew?

If someone had looked at her companion with a heart filled with duty and eyes with kindness and said that that man would leave, Finka would’ve turned away and called them crazy. Because Tachanka said he’d be there by her side for forever. Who knew?

If someone had looked at Tachanka and said that this fighter, this soldier, this man, would die on his job… Fuze might’ve believed them.

Because that’s how Tachanka wanted to leave.

It was crystal clear now that three of them made fundamentally incorrect assumptions.

There was no piece of pathetic fallacy that could’ve come even a little close to reflecting their moods, and wasn’t that just life. There was no storm to mourn the passing of a friend, only the raindrops from their own eyes. But that’s how he would’ve wanted it anyways. Not a cloud in the sky and the prettiest sunset they had seen a while.

He would’ve loved it.

But at that moment, with blood still on their suits and the empty feeling expressed in those sullen eyes, they couldn’t think of that. That was a thought that was barred from their minds, and instead, they were treated to the horror that was the mission.

“It’s not your fault.”

Kapkan was the first to speak between the remain four of them. “What he did was his… was his own choice.”

Her head shook on its own. No. She couldn’t believe that. In all her career, she had to believe that things could be under her own control. Her life, her brain, her disease, her choices. There was no magical process that decided what the outcomes were. There was always something she could do to prevent certain ends. Because if there wasn’t – if there wasn’t anything she could do about her situation, then, and only then, would she be completely desperate.

Kapkan stayed by her side, until they were called, one-by-one, into Six’s office to discuss the incident.

Two bombs, a simple clear and defusal in two teams. One with Finka and Tachanka, and the other with Kapkan and Fuze with Glaz working as overwatch.

No one saw the trap. No one saw the little land-mine buried under a couple garbage bags that surrounded their ultimate objective. They were warned. They were told that the information was crucial, and that there would be desperate measures in place to protect that information.

Her first tears shocked her out of her memories. It was hot and almost burned her freezing skin. She wasn’t in the field. She wasn’t in Doc’s office. She wasn’t in Six’s office. She was in her dorm with the lights off and no one with her. Because he was gone, and no one would ever be there again.

He said he wouldn’t though. He promised. But they were also special forces ops with a dangerous job and no certainty. That night, in the newly uncomfortable comforts of a familiar bed with familiar scents, she can’t help but relive the moments over and over again until it felt like she was there.

Glaz, with his sharp eyes, noted that there seemed to be a large group of terrorists that had gathered to guard one specific room after the first bomb defusal was started by Finka. Kapkan and Fuze had just reached theirs, and Finka was still in the middle of looking through all the wires. The unusual gathering was worrisome though, which prompted Tachanka to give her the order to stay while he investigated the room.

It wasn’t the terrorists that killed him though. That would’ve been too merciful.

“What is it?” Fuze asked, concern clearly in his voice – a deviance from his normal tone of voice.

There was heavy breathing in their comms. She zipped up the containment bag that now held a bomb, and looked up at the approaching footsteps. Kapkan was with her, eyes narrowed and fists clenched. “I’m done here, let’s go meet him,” she spoke softly, anticipating their leader to answer the question.

“I think I stepped on a mine.”

Not a single tremble in his voice. Not even when Fuze rushed to help him out. The room wasn’t quite a room, more of a growing field under a few hot lamps. Tachanka was off to the side of the field, perfectly frozen in front of the large server racks he was going to investigate.

“Careful,” Tachanka warned. Like he was the one who was safe.

Fuze froze as he evaluated the scene. “Don’t move. I’m coming to you.”

Tachanka shook his head slightly, but Fuze still took his first steps, only stepping in the places that had been stepped in before.

“I’m going to remove some of the dirt around it to get a better look.”

“It’s too dangerous. You’re not in the proper equipment and you’re getting too close.”

“No. No… Just stay still. Don’t take off weight.”

Finka remembered what it was like staring right into Tachanka’s eyes. They were scared. Just the other night, they were alone and talking about their lives over a bottle under the stars. There were no stars here, though. And whatever he was feeling that night was definitely not there at the scene.

After a few moments of shifting the dirt around, Fuze seemed to find what he was looking for on the mine and shook his head. “They glued down the pin. I can’t re-pin it.” He then shifted the dirt back to where it was before.

“Fuze,” the man looked right at her, “there has to be something you can do.”

He stood up and looked Tachanka in the eye. “We could try a weight transfer using water. This is a grow house, yes? That means they have to have water coming from somewhere. We need water and a shield.”

“No. I’ve seen these before. A weight transfer won’t work.”

“We won’t know until we try.” Finka turned away and tried to find something that could resemble a hose.

Fuze walked off to find his shield, and Kapkan joined her on the hunt for water.

“Glaz, anything new?” Finka demanded.

“Nothing to report.”

He sounded grim. He was just as scared as the rest of them.

“I am still the team leader, and I am ordering you all to leave me here. Take what we came for and leave.”

Kapkan shook his head. “Not possible.”

“One leg spasm, one twitch, or one mistake and we die doing this,” Fuze reminded tham all. “Now, I’m not saying that we—”

“We can’t just leave him,” she snarled.

Fuze reappeared with a shield. “I wasn’t planning on it. Just making sure you all knew the risks.”

While holding her breath, she watched Fuze place the shield near the edge of the field and do a final check on it.

“I have a water source, but I think I’m gonna need a hand.”

Fuze nodded and walked past. “I know what to do then. Finka, keep an eye on him.”

They both knew that was code. Tachanka would never take his foot off if someone was still in the room with him.

“You should all run while you still can.”

“I can’t leave you.”

His eyes crinkled, but he couldn’t raise his gaze to look at her. “That’s not a choice you get to make.”

She turned her back to step outside the room to check and see if she could still see what Fuze was doing.

And that’s when it happened.

A war cry. A slow turn to reveal a White Mask running at her, knife in hand. A look of shock on surprize on Tachanka. A look of resignation. An explosion.

“NOOO!”

She collapsed and stared as the remaining bits of dirt landed around where her friend used to be. Everything after was a blur.

“Finka?”

“What happened?”

“Where is he?”

“We need to leave.”

“Get her out. Our mission is over.”

The next morning, she cried her last tears at the funeral.

They were the last because she realized three essential facts.

One. That was the best possible ending in Tachanka’s mind. He saw himself as doomed to die, and now could only watch as his friends and teammates were about to attempt suicide to rescue him. By doing what he did, he refused the vulnerable state he was forced into and took out the last remaining terrorist while protecting her. He died a hero. And that’s what he wanted.

Two. That was a desperate move. The terrorists were leaving, and they were using any and all measures they could to hide that information. She wanted it. That could lead her to more cells, and, eventually, the bastard that laid the trap.

Three. That mine was an old Russian prototype. Fuze recognized it, but said that it should’ve been above anything the terrorists could get their hands on if their current equipment was anything to go by. There was a new player in this game that was enabling all this violence, and that was her new target.

If someone had told her, right when she joined Rainbow, that this would one day happen, she wouldn’t believe them. But it happened. He said it wouldn’t, and that he’d be around for forever, but she knew otherwise now, which meant that she couldn’t just sit here and cry. There was work to be done and a life to avenge.

Who knew?

#r6s #rainbow six siege #r6s fanfiction #r6s tachanka #r6s finka #r6s kapkan #r6s glaz #r6s fuze #character death #angst #my writing #fanfic writing #fanfiction

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sserpente · 6 years ago

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A/N: I wonder where the inspiration for that one came from… have fun with this silly little thing!

Words: 1233 Warnings: fluff

“Welcome to London!” You grinned, approaching the brothers as the mist of the Bifrost magic slowly faded away and left behind two Asgardian princes—and, your best friends.

Ever since you had returned to England, Thor and especially Loki had promised to come and visit you at some point to explore the city and catch up.

When the aftermath of the shocks the Infinity War had caused now died down, peace finally spread across the realms again. For weeks, you had been dreading the worst, unable to sleep and worried that only one brother or even worse, none of them would return to hug you again.

But here they were now, both of them safe and sound and more cheerful than ever. Loki smiled when you pulled him into a hug, knowing that he didn’t receive enough of them. Your gaze lingered on him curiously a little longer than necessary before you embraced Thor as well and waved them inside your tiny flat in Central London.

“How are you guys doing? And the others? Are you all recovering?”

Thor nodded sternly. “Recovering from the losses and celebrating the victory.” He replied, patting his brother on the shoulder. He had only told you after Loki had come back that he had faked his death again—Thor knew that you would not have been able to cope with such an atrocious message.

“How long will you be here for?”

“We are yours for the entire weekend, dear.” Loki said with a smirk. His blue eyes bore into yours like tiny little daggers, sending pleasant shivers up and down your spine. You wondered if Thor had finally caught up on the fact there was more than just friendship between Loki and you. Neither of you had properly acted on it yet, apart from a shy kiss before Thanos had almost erased half of the universe.

“Then we shouldn’t waste any time, there is lots to see!” You said with a wink. “I’ll make us a cup of tea and then we’ll get going. Oh, by the way, here’s your travel cards. Don’t lose them, you’ll need them for the tube!”

You dropped the two tickets on the kitchen table before heading over to the counter to prepare some tea. Loki’s confused frown made you chuckle.

“We will be using the what? The tube?”

“It’s the public transport system here in London. You will love it.” Thor responded with a mocking grin, remembering how he had ended up at Charing Cross station when fighting Malekith a few years ago.

Loki hated it. There were too many people, it was too hot and the fact he was moving around underground made him, the God of Mischief, nervous. Reassuringly, you reached for his hand as the next station—Oxford Circus, your stop—was finally announced.

The Trickster was about to seriously injure the older man next to him who kept bumping into his side whenever the train took turns.

To be honest, even in casual clothes, Thor and Loki both looked completely out of place here. There was no denying that especially to Loki, travelling around like this was beneath his dignity. Perhaps you should take the bus next time.

His murderous glare made you giggle when you finally reached your destination and quickly left the station. Neither of the brothers even moved when the train came to a halt and sent a few passengers lurching like drunks.

“This was horrible,” Loki complained when you finally stepped into the surprisingly warm sunlight and found yourself in the middle of a busy street, with dozens of shops and blinking ads around you.

Thor rubbed his hands together. You could already see him buying all kinds of souvenirs.

“What about this one? Colourful London!” Loki rolled his eyes. You could tell that he liked the foreign place, for his blue eyes were darting around curiously, still, Thor’s enthusiasm didn’t quite infect him yet.

“Come on, Trickster. I got the feeling you’ll like this.”

Smiling tenderly, you dragged him with you and followed Thor into the massive souvenir shop on the other side of the street. The God of Thunder was trying on a cheesy “I <3 London” t-shirt when you entered, encouraged by the seller who handed him more and more variations of the cosy souvenir.

There was a hidden corner in the store where they sold pretty padlocks. Crossing the Westminster Bridge was on your To Do list for your sightseeing tour with the Asgardian brothers and you had just the right idea for your trip there later that day.

“Which one?” You asked, pointing at the colourful padlocks.

“The green one,” Loki said without hesitation. “What are they for?”

Grinning, you took it and marched towards the till to pay.

“You’ll see.”

The rest of the day was both exhausting and exciting. You introduced Thor and Loki to the pub culture, the traditional food (they both loved Fish and Chips) and the most interesting aspects of the city. Tomorrow, you would bring them to the London Dungeon—you had a funny feeling that they would enjoy that.

Last stop, right before you would end your tour with Sky Garden and a few delicious cocktails high up in the air, was Westminster.

Loki took a deep breath as he stared up at the massive Elizabeth Tower, heart and most typical characteristic of London. He was fascinated by the architecture and you had promised him to show him Shakespeare’s Globe tomorrow—he loved Midgardian literature as long as you enjoyed reading it too.

Grinning mischievously, you took the padlock you had purchased from your pocket and removed the packaging. Thor was already ahead again, enthusiastically crossing the bridge right towards another souvenir shop.

“This padlock is a promise.” You began calmly. “That I’ll always be with you, support you and trust you. I’ve never done this before, it’s… special.”

Loki’s lips parted. He tore his gaze away from the beautiful scenery offering itself up to his mesmerising blue eyes, looking at the green lock in your hands with such softness you feared your legs would cease to support you any longer.

“I love you, Loki. So much. And I was afraid that I might never get to tell you.” Never before had you seen him speechless. When you put the padlock on one of the pillars already full of other people’s metaphorical confessions of love, you handed him one of the two keys.

“I love you too.” He finally mumbled almost coyly—as if the tender words would harm his heart if he said them too loud.

Your heart was pounding fast when you both threw the keys of the lock into the Thames and watched how they disappeared in the brownish water.

It was then Loki smirked genuinely and leaned forward, kissing you gently and carefully, almost as if he feared he’d break you. Holding your chin with two fingers, his eyes closed as he moved his mouth against yours, eliciting a soft sigh from you.

“Hey (Y/N), can you actually go swimming in the Tham—is there something you two would like to tell me?” Thor’s mighty voice roared playfully.

Loki only rolled his eyes when he pulled away from you.

“No, brother, there is not.” In other words, he would have to spend the rest of the night telling him how Loki and you had become a couple.

A/N: Guys, you can help me publish my first novel! It’s easy, it’s anonymous, you can do it from all over the world and it’s just 3€! Your help counts too, I’d appreciate it so much if you helped me fulfil my dream! ♥ ko-fi.com/sserpente

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magnoliatheprofound-blog · 7 years ago

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Lost! In A Museum

read it on AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11017002/chapters/24549414

Chapter 1

Lost

Arthur really wished he wasn’t here right now. I mean, he never liked these things. Getting dragged around by his father’s assistant, shown what to do, and how to manage his father’s company. His father, Uther Pendragon, owned most of the large franchises and buildings in the area, including the Museum of Medieval History. Which was where he was now. Morgana was his father’s assistant, who had been put in charge of showing Arthur around what would soon become his “empire”. Morgana was tall and thin, with pale skin and green eyes. Her hair was long and dark, her imposing figure intimidating to most. As totally interesting as all these explanations were though, he was steadily getting more and more annoyed. All the - “Now make sure to remember…. Your father expects you to…. This is how blah blah blah is supposed to be run... “ was really getting on his nerves. Arthur was seriously tired of being the sole inheritor of the largest enterprise in the city. The two continued on, passing through a corridor filled with paraphernalia and brochures containing information on the Renaissance. As he walked by an exhibit featuring some famous artwork, Arthur’s mind began to wander. ‘Being rich is definitely not what it’s cracked up to be. Ugh… If only I could get away for a few minutes-”Thur… Arthur, did you hear me?” Uh-oh, Morgana did not sound very happy with him. He must have zoned out for longer than he thought. “Yes, I did hear you, sorry, I was just reflecting a bit on what you said.” ‘Heh, nice save Arthur’— “Oh, really? Then what did I just say?” Morgana quirked an eyebrow. Arthur refused to acknowledge that he panicked, just a little at that. In a rare moment of inarticulateness, he said “Err, I think I just heard an alarm going off over there! I’ll go check it out!” He ran off in a random direction, wanting to get away from the soon-to-be fuming woman. Suddenly, a thought struck him. “Hey, Morgana!” He yelled over his shoulder. “Just tell my father that I wanted to see how things work on my own! You know, like taking initiative!” At that, Arthur disappeared around a corner, trying not to hear the furious shout of “Arthur!” behind him.

This “tour” was crap. Merlin seriously didn’t know how Gwen was getting so much enjoyment out of it. The tour guide was this bored looking guy, who just pointed to things and said what they were in a monotonous voice. But there Gwen was, with a glint in her eyes and a smile on her face when she saw the display for women of nobility. “Oh, Merlin, are you seeing this? The women were so beautiful! Their clothes look so expensive!” Gwen turned to him,eyes sparkling to an almost blinding degree. Merlin shrugged, but couldn’t suppress a smile after seeing her expression. “You know those are just mannequins, right? The women didn’t actually look like that.” Gwen just huffed, and turned away. “Oh look, Merlin! The tour’s moving!”

Merlin didn’t hear her though, as he had wandered over to a display on the knights of old. It was partially concealed by a half wall, separating the section on nobility from another corridor leading off to the side. The brunette was so engrossed by the exhibit, that he didn’t notice Gwen’s call, or the tour moving on. He kept walking, slowly moving around the knights, and closer to the royals. As he past a somewhat alarming figure of a king, he came to stop in front of a mannequin of a prince, or what they supposed a prince from the middle ages would have looked like. Hmm, it’s surprisingly handsome for a mannequin. It had a blonde wig, and painted blue eyes, and attractive features. All of a sudden, he found himself thrown into what felt like a memory.

A young man with corn silk hair, and crystal blue eyes. The same man, laughing. A voice, suspiciously like his own calling out, ‘Don’t be such a clotpole!’ That man, lying in-what he supposed to be- his lap. Looking up at him; saying ‘Thank you.’ That beautiful man, the light leaving his eyes. His own tears. Merlin was jerked out of the pseudo vision - was it a vision?- by a voice to his right. “Hey, you there. Do you know what part of the museum we’re in? In relation to the entrance, I mean.” Merlin turned to see who was addressing him. His jaw dropped open when he was faced with the exact same man from his strange vision a moment ago. ‘What? The same man? That can’t be possible. No way.’ A bemused look crossed the stranger’s face. “What? Have I got something on my face?”

Arthur was confused. How did he manage to get lost in —what would soon be— his museum? And now, when he’s finally found someone who can help him, they look at him like he’s grown another head! ‘Oh, come on!’ The boy he had run into was just standing there, gaping at him. He was a bit shorter than Arthur was, with dark hair and blue eyes. He had pale skin, and his ears stuck out just a bit. Arthur couldn’t help but find him cute. “What? Have I got something on my face?” That seemed to startle the other boy out of whatever daze he was in, as he shook his head, and his expression cleared. “I’m sorry, you just ah...reminded me of someone.” Arthur raised an eyebrow. “Well. I was just wondering if you knew where we were in relation to the entrance. It seems I have gotten myself a bit turned around.” He watched as the other boy suddenly looked around himself, as if just noticing where he was. “Oh bollocks!” He looked around a bit, then back at Arthur with a shocked expression before he laughed. “I’m sorry, whoever you are, but It looks like I’m lost too. My tour group seems to have left without me.”

Arthur mentally face palmed. ‘Great. The one person I find, and he’s lost too. Well, at least he’s cute.’ At realising what he just thought, Arthur tried to ignore the (obvious) adorableness of the brunette in front of him. “Since we’re both stuck here for the time being, might as well introduce myself. My name’s Arthur.” Something sparked in the other boy’s eyes at that. Or was it just his imagination? Arthur studied the other boy’s face for a moment, trying to figure out why he was acting so strangely. The brunette seemed to realise that he hadn’t responded, and hurried to do so. “I - it’s nice to meet you. My name’s Merlin.” Merlin smiled sheepishly, and extended his hand to shake. Arthur nodded, and accepted his hand. ‘Merlin… Like from the tales of king Arthur? The wizard Merlin? Strange. And he had a weird look on his face when I introduced myself. And when I asked him for help earlier.’

Arthur jokingly asked, “ What, like the wizard Merlin? From the fairy tales?” He tried to laugh, but it died away when he saw the small, perturbed frown on the other boy’s face. Merlin shifted, and there was something strange in his eyes. Arthur’s brow furrowed. “Uh, Merlin?” Merlin startled, looking at him with wide, icy blue eyed. He looked down, before muttering, “Yeah, something like that… “Though, weren’t the tales of King Arthur more than just fairy tales? I always thought there was something more real to them.” The brunette had looked back up at this point, and was staring directly into Arthur’s eyes. Arthur tried to deny that they had an effect on him. Arthur thought about that for a moment. “Hmm, I guess you’re right. There is something a bit different about tham, isn’t there?” And there was. Arthur had been raised not to believe in fairy tales, but he couldn’t deny that he had always found something different in King Arthur and his wizard, Merlin. Something almost familiar. He shook his head to clear his thoughts, to find the other boy, Merlin, asking him a question.

“So, what do you propose we do?” Merlin looked at the blonde in front of him expectantly. When he received no immediate answer, he straightened, and said, “Arthur.” That got his attention, and Merlin watched him shake his head. “Sorry. I was just lost in thought, I suppose.” Arthur took a moment, seemingly trying to remember what Merlin had said to him, before adding, “ I’m not sure what we should do. Try walking around a bit, I guess.” He shrugged, before turning to look around at their surroundings.

Merlin followed suite, and moved to stand next to Arthur. They turned to each other, seemed to come to some sort of silent agreement, and turned to one of the many hallways leading out, into the rest of the museum.

#merthur #my fanfiction #please read #chapter 1

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biofunmy · 5 years ago

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Elon Musk Can’t Lose

Alex Spiro was on a roll. The 6-foot-something attorney stood imposingly at the lectern in the Los Angeles federal court with the confidence of a guy compelled to remind people he lettered in high school varsity basketball for four years and almost walked onto his college team. His demeanor was casual — he dropped a few “dudes” that belied his Harvard law degree — but forceful. His only obvious weakness seemed to be the brace on his right foot, the result of an injury sustained during a pickup game.

A high-profile trial lawyer who worked for the CIA before assembling a client list that included New England Patriots owner Robert Kraft, Mick Jagger, and Jay-Z, Spiro was on the clock for another billionaire defendant on a Friday last December. And having lured the jury in with a fantastical closing argument about his client’s supposed generosity and heroics, Spiro threw in some flattery for the person paying his bills.

“[The plaintiff] can say whatever he wants about Elon Musk,” he said. “No one can bring people together like he can to do the impossible.”

Over the past few decades, Musk promised to land a reusable rocket on a robotic ocean barge, and then he went and did it. He dreamed up a tunnel under Los Angeles to counter the city’s congested highways, and then founded a company to dig it. He’s also mapped out an electric car future and is well on his way toward achieving it. His admirers laud him as the real-life Tony Stark, a once-in-a-generation genius with a force of will that can make the seemingly impossible possible. But as a judge, eight jurors, two sizable legal teams, a dozen reporters, and I learned late last year, Musk’s uncanny ability to transform far-fetched ideas into attainable ones can cut both ways.

We spent a week in the courtroom listening to a legal case as absurd as one of Musk’s wildest moon shots. How did we get there? A quick recap: In July 2018, Musk tweeted that a British cave explorer was a “pedo guy,” faced a wave of criticism, kind of apologized, received a legal threat, doubled down on the accusation, sent a reporter (me) an email suggesting the Brit was a “child rapist,” hired a phony private investigator to prove it, got sued, and, after more than a year of legal wrangling, ended up in court. Never mind that some legal experts thought the case was a clear example of defamation, that his advisers told him to settle, and that he had far better things to do with his time. Musk was going to fight.

In doing so, the billionaire entrepreneur brought the same drive that pushed electric cars into the mainstream to a legal dispute over his own bad behavior. And in typical fashion, Musk defied the odds. He won.

Musk’s legal victory over Vernon Unsworth – a previously unknown Brit who became a legitimate hero while helping rescue a boys soccer team and their coach from a Thailand cave — will rank low on his list of achievements. But in many ways, it is far more revealing of Musk than any of the technological feats that land him in the headlines.

The weeklong trial showcased Musk’s bending of reality, a skill that’s part of his mythology but rarely seen outside his work. It’s something he uses to convince an engineer to perfect a car part for days on end or push a public relations staffer to disappear a bad story, and it’s often rescued him from the brink of failure. In Elon’s world, there is only Elon’s way. “You can always tell when someone’s left an Elon meeting: they’re defeated,” an anonymous SpaceX employee wrote on Quora in 2016. “The reason for this is that Elon’s version of reality is highly skewed.”

“Elon’s version of reality is highly skewed.”

Apple cofounder Steve Jobs was renowned for his “reality distortion field,” an unusual ability to persuade employees and followers that his seemingly impossible visions were worth realizing. Musk has one too; in the case of Unsworth, he used it to convince himself that a critic was a pedophile simply because he happened to be an older white man living in Thailand. Then, when threatened with a defamation lawsuit, Musk and his lawyers built out an alternate reality: one where he played a key role in the cave rescue, where “pedo guy” was a common playground insult, and where he did not attempt to destroy a hero who had criticized him

“Elon has an uncanny ability to tell a story he wants to be true, convince himself that it has to be true, and then convince others,” one former Tesla executive told me after the trial.

That’s exactly what happened in Vernon Unsworth v. Elon Musk. Though a simple online search suggests that Unsworth’s name might be forever linked to pedophilia, Musk won the case by arguing that his “pedo guy” attacks on the caver didn’t explicitly mention his name, and therefore could not constitute defamation. Musk and Spiro declined to comment for this story.

It took the jury less than hour to return a verdict. As reporters rushed back into the courtroom, where phones were banned, I watched from outside, waiting to tweet the decision. Before the judge could strike his gavel, a gaggle of TV producers rushed out of the court’s double doors yelling. Unsworth sat stone-faced, his attorneys slumped in their chairs. Spiro stood with a half-blank stare, almost as if he couldn’t believe he had pulled it off.

Musk rose, nodding.

“Elon Musk is not liable for damages,” I tweeted, watching the billionaire through the glass. “He won.”

Nurphoto / Getty Images

Musk speaks at SpaceX headquarters in Hawthorne, California, on Oct. 10, 2019.

On July 13, 2018, Bloomberg Businessweek published an interview with Musk in which he promised to behave better. Remarking on his Twitter account, on which he had attained a new level of bombast in the preceding months, the Tesla CEO admitted he should probably stop engaging with his critics.

“I have made the mistaken assumption — and I will attempt to be better at this — of thinking that because somebody is on Twitter and is attacking me that it is open season,” he said. “That is my mistake. I will correct it.”

It took less than two days for Musk to break that promise. On the morning of the 15th, he awoke early, opened Twitter, and clicked a link to a video interview from CNN. Musk hit play.

“He can stick his submarine where it hurts,” a man named Vernon Unsworth said of Musk. Unsworth, a Brit living in Thailand and an expert on the country’s Tham Luang cave system, was talking about the metal tube Musk had built to rescue members of a Thai boys soccer team who had been trapped in the cave for 18 days. Unsworth was convinced it couldn’t work and was irked at what he viewed as opportunism. “Just a PR stunt,” he said.

Musk watched the 43-second clip again, and again — growing increasingly angry that a man he’d never met had mocked what he viewed as a good faith effort to aid children in mortal danger. He was particularly sensitive to Unsworth’s remarks because he’d faced similar criticism on Twitter already. And he was in a particularly foul mood because his contributions to Republican lawmakers had recently dragged the company into another lousy news cycle. Musk typed Unsworth’s name into Google, followed it with a search for “Chiang Rai” — a locale near the site of the rescue — and reviewed the results. Then he tapped out a thread on Twitter, where he had some 22 million followers at the time.

“Never saw this British expat guy who lives in Thailand (sus) at any point when we were in the caves,” he wrote in a response to one critic, before saying that he would make a video showing his “mini-sub” was fully operational. “Sorry pedo guy, you really did ask for it.”

To understand Musk’s crass and disproportionate response to Unsworth’s quip, you have to go back to that spring — a particularly rough one for the Tesla CEO. The company was in the middle of what Musk had sagaciously predicted would be “production hell,” and things had not been going smoothly. The crushing pressure to ship cars led to reported missteps — substandard factory conditions, high rates of worker injury, wasted materials, executive departures. And those missteps led to investigations by the likes of BuzzFeed News and plenty of unwanted media coverage.

The scrutiny put Musk in a foul mood, according to three people who worked with him at the time, and his increasingly acidic stream of consciousness bled out into real-life interactions. He called an analyst “boneheaded” on an earnings call. He tried to personally destroy an employee who leaked information about the company. And when he wasn’t working he retreated to Twitter, a place where he could “bypass journo bs,” dish on supposed Big Oil conspiracies, and flirt with the idea of a site to rate reporters.

“It started to spiral out of control,” said one person close to Musk as he quadrupled his tweeting that May. That activity, the person said, was compounded by his time in “production hell” where he put in long hours and slept in a factory conference room to meet projections.

Linh Pham / Getty Images

Thai officers supervise the rescue mission inside Tham Luang Nang Non cave in Chiang Rai, Thailand, June 28, 2018.

Musk learned about the catastrophe in Thailand through Twitter. On June 23, 12 young soccer players and their coach became trapped in Thailand’s Tham Luang cave system after heavy rains flooded it. Some 12 days later, divers called in by Unsworth, who had spent years exploring the caves and was among the first on the scene, found them alive, trapped in an air pocket.

In court, Musk testified that “dozens of people” on Twitter had asked him to assist in the rescue. He initially turned down the requests, thinking the Thai government had it under control. But on July 6, Musk committed to sending engineers from SpaceX and the Boring Company, his tunneling startup, to Thailand after what he described as “active conversations with the Thai government.”

Following an email exchange with a British diver on-site named Rick Stanton, Musk proposed rescuing the boys in a rigid metallic tube, or mini submarine, large enough to tightly enclose “a 15-year-old boy.” But by the time he tweeted footage of the device being tested in a California swimming pool, the main effort to extract the boys, which involved sedating them and swimming them out, was well underway. Nevertheless, Rick Stanton — a diver on the scene who gave Musk some rough specifications — urged the billionaire to continue development as a just-in-case measure.

Later, after the trial, Stanton would say it wasn’t until he saw photos and video of the tube in action that he thought it had no chance of working. Reviewing footage of a test that happened in a sunny California pool, he noticed issues with buoyancy and air capacity. Compounding these concerns, the testing conditions were not at all comparable to the narrow, murky conditions of the cave.

“I think [Musk] had worrying intentions,” said Stanton, who had been prevented from discussing the tube at length on the stand in December. “Surely, there must have been a point when these engineers decided it was not possible … and he decided to bring it on-site anyway and showboat.”

On July 9, Musk dropped off the mini sub in Thailand. He took a tour of the caves before departing for his hotel and eventually heading to Shanghai for business. Musk never met Unsworth or Stanton. The tube was never tested on-site and was ultimately never used.

But shortly after the last boys were extracted, the tube became a lightning rod for renewed criticism. And Musk didn’t take it well. When Narongsak Osatanakorn, a provincial governor who oversaw part of the rescue, said the tube didn’t really fit with the mission, Musk dismissed Osatanakorn, tweeting that he wasn’t a true rescue expert. (Musk’s staff later unsuccessfully pressured the Thai Consulate in Los Angeles to lobby Osatanakorn to reverse his statement.)

By the time he watched Unsworth’s CNN interview, Musk had been getting blasted online for the mini sub for five days straight. His tweets about the British caver took that vitriol to another level. “Cave Diver Criticizes Musk’s Kid-Sub Rescue Plan. Musk Suggests He’s A Pedophile,” read one headline from the Los Angeles Times, while Bloomberg News went with “Musk Labels U.K. Diver As Pedophile In Spat Over Thai Rescue.” To hundreds of publications around the world, the target of Musk’s ire and the implication of his comment seemed quite clear.

A few days later, Musk deleted the tweets and issued a half-hearted apology. But the damage was done. His posts had been screenshotted, shared, written up, and seen by millions. He couldn’t take them back.

Apu Gomes / Getty Images

Vernon Unsworth (center) and his attorneys, Mark Stephens (left) and L. Lin Wood (right), speak to reporters outside the US district courthouse in Los Angeles, Dec. 6, 2019.

In December, as court commenced on a Tuesday in balmy Southern California — 506 days after Musk’s “pedo guy” tweet — the only thing missing in Vernon Unsworth v. Elon Musk was the defendant. Ten floors below the courtroom, photographers and TV reporters had spent the morning jostling for position only to be disappointed when the billionaire failed to show up for opening arguments.

For Musk’s critics, the defamation trial was a barometer: Could a powerful man with virtually unlimited resources be held accountable for his shitty behavior? A little more than a year ago, Musk had been accused of lying about having the necessary funding to take his electric car company private at $420 a share; he had pushed misleading projections about Model 3 deliveries and was being investigated for discouraging workers from unionizing. Around that time, Tesla was also undercounting workers’ injuries at its factories.

Musk walked away from all that with a half-hearted spanking: a $20 million fine (he’s currently worth $34 billion) and an order to relinquish his role as Tesla chair (he remains CEO). In Unsworth’s civil case, former employees who’d been treated unfairly, short sellers who were out for blood, and aspiring Tesla owners still waiting for their car, saw the chance for catharsis. Meanwhile, Silicon Valley wondered how the hell the case had gotten this far. It seemed a senseless waste of time and bandwidth for someone who rarely had either.

Jury selection was a case study in Musk’s influence. Of the 40 or so prospective jurors, about a fifth were dismissed for having some connection to the billionaire. Among those who departed was a man with an upcoming interview at SpaceX. Among those who remained included an owner of two Teslas.

Judge Stephen V. Wilson’s instructions to the three-man, five-woman jury were straightforward. Defamation, among the hardest allegations to prove in a US court, could only be established if Musk’s tweets met five criteria:

1) Whether he said his statements to more than one person other than Unsworth.

2) Whether a reasonable person could understand the tweets were about Unsworth.

3) Whether a reasonable person understood the tweets meant Unsworth was a pedophile.

4) Whether the statements were false.

5) Whether the Tesla CEO failed to use reasonable care when determining the truth or falsity of the statements.

In opening arguments, only the defense seemed to take the judge’s jury instructions to heart. The plaintiff trotted out a junior member of the legal team who gave a dry, matter-of-fact explanation of what had happened and asserted that “pedo guy” was a clear accusation of sexual activity with children. Arguing for the defense, Spiro took a different approach. This was “an argument between two men,” he said, with “insults understood as insults, not literal statements of fact.” He even had a nice acronym for the main offending tweet: JDART, a “joking, deleted, apologized for, responsive tweet.”

After opening arguments, Musk arrived, entering court accompanied by four guards to take the stand. Elevated in the witness box, he spoke with a halting, childish nervousness, crossing and uncrossing his arms and pursing his lips as the plaintiff’s lead attorney, L. Lin Wood, began his questioning.

“Twitter is a free-for-all where there’s all sorts of things that sort of aren’t true, untrue, half-true, uh, where people engage in sort of verbal combat effectively,” Musk said. “Uh, yeah. I mean, there’s everything on Twitter.”

There was a Trumpian quality to Musk’s answers that recalled what his former business partner Peter Thiel said about then-candidate before the 2016 presidential election: Take him “seriously, but not literally.” Musk has used his Twitter seriously, and the company listed the account as a source for information in a 2013 financial filing. He frequently publishes projections for Tesla. But any reasonable sampling of his tweets would also include dumb jokes, memes, and the conversational detritus for which Twitter is known. That stuff is often a convenient foundation for the “I was just joking” defense used by so many people walking back missteps on the modern web. It certainly was for Musk.

“Just as he was using an idiomatic phrase, and I assume he did not literally mean to sodomize me with a submarine, then I also did not literally mean he was a pedophile,” he said. “I just meant he was a creep.”

As Wood — an experienced defamation lawyer who had represented the likes of wrongly accused Atlanta Olympics security guard Richard Jewell and casino magnate Sheldon Adelson — tried to pin responsibility on Musk, the billionaire dodged, his voice soft against the attorney’s aggressive Georgian drawl: Are you one of the most influential people in the world? Not really, the president didn’t take my advice to remain in the Paris climate accords. Do you choose your words carefully for the public? Not everything I say is thoughtful. Do you have a large number of public relations professionals who work for you? I have no PR team personally, and we don’t really have much of a public relations team at Tesla.

The journalists covering the trial looked up quizzically. Some had corresponded with Tesla communications members in recent weeks. In the galley, a staffer, who had fielded press requests for Musk’s tunneling startup and served as his de facto handler for the trial, watched, unblinking.

While BuzzFeed News interviewed former staffers at Tesla and SpaceX for a May 2018 story about Musk’s combative relationship with the press, many people remarked on his thin skin. Some of them recalled being woken up in the middle of the night to respond to a blog post or tweet critical of a Musk company. On the stand, Musk admitted to having a Google alert for his own name to track headlines about himself. Others noted that Musk sometimes tweeted about unfinished features or plans that hadn’t been shared, forcing fire drills to finish or manage them. “He tweets it, therefore it is,” a former staffer told one of my colleagues, while we were reporting the story.

Musk’s claim that “pedo guy” was not an accusation of pedophilia came 13 months after his tweet, and four months before the trial. When he deleted the insult a few hours after posting it on July 15, 2018, he didn’t claim it was a joke or benign. In a tweet a few days later, the Tesla chief only said he had written the words “in anger” and that Unsworth’s criticism did “not justify my actions against him.”

But at his pretrial deposition in August 2019, Musk began claiming that the phrase was from his South African upbringing, a slang term for a “creepy old white guy.” He would continue that argument on the stand, telling Wood he hadn’t explained the meaning of his tweets before August because no one had asked him.

Three people who worked with Musk in July 2018 and spoke with me on the condition of anonymity said they had had never heard the Tesla CEO use that argument prior to his deposition. Online, a number of South Africans also disagreed with the notion that “pedo guy” was slang, while reporters found little evidence that it was a common phrase in the country or anywhere else on the internet. Urban Dictionary’s first entry for “pedo guy” didn’t appear until after Musk’s tweets.

As an argument for Musk’s defense, characterizing “pedo guy” as a playground insult seemed shaky at best, ludicrous at worst. Either way, it was an opportunity for Wood to knock some wind out of the defendant. But he rarely seemed to land a solid punch. At times, he stumbled with his own evidence, misreading emails or demonstrating a poor understanding of the mechanics of Twitter. On more than a few occasions, his argumentative exchanges with Musk resulted in objections from Spiro and reprimands from the judge, who became increasingly hostile to the plaintiff’s attorney as the trial wore on.

“I suggest that you call people you know in Thailand, find out what’s actually going on and stop defending child rapists, you fucking asshole.”

One of Wood’s biggest failures was his inability to speak to Wilson’s directive on whether “a reasonable person” would interpret Musk’s “pedo guy” insult as an accusation of pedophilia. No evidence or witnesses were brought in to dispute the notion that the phrase was common in South Africa or on the internet prior to Musk using it. And while Wood later brought in an academic as an expert witness to testify to how many headlines the phrase had generated around the world, Spiro neutered the evidence in pretrial motions and prevented the witness from talking about their impact. No specific articles showing how news outlets interpreted the tweets were allowed by the judge either.

It seemed to be an oversight, more so given Wood’s decision to pursue Unsworth’s claim on Musk’s tweets, and not on other potentially damning communications that had been offered as supplementary evidence. The plaintiff’s attorneys presented those communications in court, but Wilson advised the jury it could only be used to help assess Musk’s state of mind.

As Wood started to read that evidence — including an email in which Musk suggested Unsworth was a “child rapist” who took a 12-year-old bride — into the record, I felt a few gazes shift in my direction. One of Unsworth’s lawyers turned and gave me a weak smile, which I pretended not to notice as I scribbled notes. Musk had written the emails to me.

“I suggest that you call people you know in Thailand, find out what’s actually going on and stop defending child rapists, you fucking asshole.”

The opening words of Musk’s email to me were so confusing that I checked the sender twice to make sure it was actually from him. It was only the second email he’d ever sent me. I had never met the billionaire nor talked to him on the phone; save for a few trolling interactions on Twitter, I had not interacted with him prior to this email chain.

I reached out Aug. 29, 2018, after Musk had wondered aloud on Twitter why Unsworth hadn’t sued him yet over his “pedo guy” comment. That morning, I had learned an attorney for Unsworth had sent Musk a letter earlier that month suggesting he would take legal action if he didn’t properly apologize, and I sought comment. In an email with the subject “BuzzFeed News: Unsworth legal letter,” I asked about the “British diver” in the second sentence.

“Have you actually done any research at all?” Musk responded. “For example, you incorrectly state that he is a diver, which shows that you know essentially nothing and have not even bothered to research basic facts.”

I brushed off his criticism, which didn’t answer the basics of my inquiry around the letter. I sent him a response noting that Unsworth had done some cave diving in the past and again asked for comment. When he didn’t reply, I tried again the next day. He replied shortly thereafter on Aug. 30 in a diatribe he prefaced with “off the record” — a term we had not previously discussed or agreed to.

Sometimes people think the words “off the record” are a magic command and, once uttered, immediately go into effect to hide what comes after. But in reality, a journalist and their source have to both agree to that condition before it can be established. Musk and I did not.

Inbox

From: Ryan Mac To: Elon Musk

BuzzFeed News: Unsworth legal letter

On Aug 29, 2018, at 7:40 AM, Ryan Mac wrote:

Hi Elon,

Ryan from BuzzFeed News here. We’re reporting a story out about you receiving a letter from a lawyer representing British diver Vernon Unsworth. The letter, dated August 6, was sent to your Los Angeles home and discusses potential legal proceedings against you for libel.

Given the Twitter conversation yesterday, I was hoping you could talk about the letter and whether you had seen it yet. I’m happy to chat on the phone if you want to call me at [redacted].

Best,

Inbox

From: Elon Musk To: Ryan Mac

BuzzFeed News: Unsworth legal letter

On Wed, Aug 29, 2018 at 8:38 AM, Elon Musk wrote:

Have you actually done any research at all? For example, you incorrectly state that he is a diver, which shows that you know essentially nothing and have not even bothered to research basic facts.

Inbox

From: Ryan Mac To: Elon Musk

BuzzFeed News: Unsworth legal letter

On Wed, Aug 29, 2018 at 9:06 AM, Ryan Mac wrote:

Hey Elon, thanks for getting back. Actually he prefers to be called a “spelunker” and we’ve confirmed that he actually does do cave diving. But do you have any comment on the letter your received?

Inbox

From: Ryan Mac To: Elon Musk

BuzzFeed News: Unsworth legal letter

On Aug 30, 2018, at 6:07 PM, Ryan Mac wrote:

Hey Elon, just wanted to make sure I did my due diligence to research basic facts and follow up here.

Inbox

From: Elon Musk To: Ryan Mac

BuzzFeed News: Unsworth legal letter

On Thu, Aug 30, 2018 at 6:43 PM, Elon Musk wrote:

Off the record

I suggest that you call people you know in Thailand, find out what’s actually going on and stop defending child rapists, you fucking asshole. He’s an old, single white guy from England who’s been traveling to or living in Thailand for 30 to 40 years, mostly Pattaya Beach, until moving to Chiang Rai for a child bride who was about 12 years old at the time. There’s only one reason people go to Pattaya Beach. It isn’t where you’d go for caves, but it is where you’d go for something else. Chiang Rai is renowned for child sex-trafficking.

He may claim to know how to cave dive, but he wasn’t on the cave dive rescue team and most of the actual dive team refused to hang out with him. I wonder why …

https://www.google.com/search?q=chiang+rai+child+trafficking&ie=UTF-8&oe=UTF-8&hl=en-us&client=safari

As for this alleged threat of a lawsuit, which magically appeared when I raised the issue (nothing was sent or raised beforehand), I fucking hope he sues me.

Inbox

From: Elon Musk To: Ryan Mac

Subject: Letters

On Thu, Aug 30, 2018 at 7:16 PM, Elon Musk wrote:

On background

Unsworth also said I was asked to leave by the Thai govt, which is utterly false. Thai Prime Minister thanked me personally per attached docs. I went all the way to area 3 with the Thai SEAL team, who were awesome. Never saw Unsworth at any point. Was told he was banned from the site.

It is also total bs that the mini-sub wouldn’t fit through the caves. It was designed and built to specifications provided to me directly by Stanton and the actual dive team. The only reason it wasn’t used was that they were able to drain almost all the water out of the caves, so the underwater portion was very short, and the monsoon arrived later than expected.

Those pumps were critical. Some of the Tesla team helped with electrical power, but major credit to whoever provided those pumps. They were amazing. I’m told they were from some company in India.

Inbox

From: Ryan Mac To: Elon Musk

Subject: BuzzFeed News: Unsworth legal letter

On Tue, Sep 4, 2018 at 8:47 AM, Ryan Mac wrote:

Hi Elon,

I didn’t agree for the conversation to be off the record, but appreciate the response. To follow up, I’ve tried to report out some of these accusations on my own but have not found anything to corroborate the claims. Are you able to share anything that you’ve found about Vernon Unsworth? Do you have any evidence or documentation showing he took a 12-year-old child bride, that he is a child rapist, or that he was kicked off the rescue site, as you stated in your other email? Also are you able to share your correspondence with Rick Stanton showing your discussion of the submarine specs?

With regards to your statement about the legal threat not coming up until you raised the issue on Twitter, the legal letter was dated on Aug. 6 and sent to your Los Angeles home and to one of your SpaceX emails. Did you not see the letter prior to your tweets?

Thank you, Ryan

Inbox

From: Ryan Mac To: Elon Musk

BuzzFeed News: Unsworth legal letter

On Sep 4, 2018, at 12:22 PM, Ryan Mac wrote:

Hi Elon,

While I’d rather chat on the record, I’m happy to go off record with you moving forward so you can answer specific questions regarding the allegations you’ve made.

Thanks, Ryan

Inbox

From: Elon Musk To: Ryan Mac

BuzzFeed News: Unsworth legal letter

On Sep 4, 2018, at 1:05 PM, Elon Musk wrote:

Off the record

If you don’t respect “off the record”, there is no going forward. Off the record means off the record.

Inbox

From: Elon Musk To: Ryan Mac

BuzzFeed News: Unsworth legal letter

On Sep 4, 2018, at 1:18 PM, Elon Musk wrote:

Off the record

I suggest you ask Unsworth to describe his whole ~30 year history of visiting Thailand. What was he doing in Pattaya Beach for the better part of a decade when there are no caves of note in the area?

Inbox

From: Ryan Mac To: Elon Musk

BuzzFeed News: Unsworth legal letter

On Sep 4, 2018, at 5:30 PM, Ryan Mac wrote:

Hey Elon,

I’m sure you’ve seen the story at this point. Still happy to talk with you on whatever terms you want as long as we set them beforehand. Let me know if you want to do a phone call.

Best, R

Inbox

From: Elon Musk To: Ryan Mac

BuzzFeed News: Unsworth legal letter

On Sep 4, 2018, at 5:31 PM, Elon Musk wrote:

Get lost, you creep

“I suggest that you call people you know in Thailand, find out what’s actually going on and stop defending child rapists, you fucking asshole,” Musk wrote. “He’s an old, single white guy from England who’s been traveling to or living in Thailand for 30 to 40 years, mostly Pattaya Beach, until moving to Chiang Rai for a child bride who was about 12 years old at the time. There’s only one reason people go to Pattaya Beach. It isn’t where you’d go for caves, but it is where you’d go for something else. Chiang Rai is renowned for child sex-trafficking.”

He included a link to a Google search for “chiang rai child trafficking” and ended his message by suggesting the Aug. 6 letter from Unsworth’s lawyer was a response to his tweet the day before.

“As for this alleged threat of a lawsuit, which magically appeared when I raised the issue (nothing was sent or raised beforehand), I fucking hope he sues me,” he concluded.

I read the emails again and texted my editors: “Holy shit.”

Less than an hour later, he emailed again. This time he topped his message with “on background,” suggesting he thought I could use the material if it wasn’t attributed to him. Again, we had no prior agreement. Attached to the email was a signed letter from the Thai prime minister thanking Musk for the construction of the mini sub.

“Unsworth also said I was asked to leave by the Thai govt, which is utterly false,” Musk wrote. “Thai Prime Minister thanked me personally per attached docs. I went all the way to area 3 with the Thai SEAL team, who were awesome. Never saw Unsworth at any point. Was told he was banned from the site.”

My editors and I discussed Musk’s messages and determined they were fair game to publish. They were newsworthy — showing a powerful billionaire setting out to destroy a man over some offhand criticism. And, without an established agreement between reporter and subject, they were on the record, as Musk, who’s had decades’ worth of press encounters, should have known. More importantly, the billionaire seemed to be alleging Unsworth was a pedophile without a shred of supporting evidence. He was essentially suggesting I investigate his tip.

We spent Labor Day weekend reporting on Musk’s claims. We spoke to rescuers who’d worked with Unsworth, including some who swam some of the boys out of the cave. We interviewed Rick Stanton, the British diver who had corresponded with Musk. We reached out to government officials in the United Kingdom and Thailand and tracked down Unsworth’s social media accounts. Eventually, I tracked down the Facebook page for the business of Unsworth’s partner, Woranan “Tik” Ratrawiphukkun, who confirmed to me that she was Unsworth’s longtime girlfriend. Calling him “Vern,” she said they had dated seven years, something supported by photos of them together on their Facebook and Instagram accounts. She was 40, she said. And when asked about Musk’s tweets, Tik declined to comment, telling me to talk to Unsworth’s lawyers.

By the morning of Sept. 4, we had finished our story. I reached out to Musk to offer him a chance to comment on our reporting.

“We haven’t had a conversation at all,” Musk replied.” “If you want to publish off the record comments and destroy your journalistic credibility, that’s up to you.”

We published our article later that day, despite a Tesla spokesperson’s efforts to kill it. Unsworth officially sued Musk for defamation two weeks later, using Musk’s tweets and his emails to me as the basis of his complaint. Discovery in the case would later surface an email sent to an adviser at the time in which Musk described himself as “a fucking idiot” for messaging a reporter without establishing an off-the-record agreement first.

Still, the fact that he sent the emails, a move so sloppy and risky, never sat right with me, and I never understood where he was coming from. It wasn’t until after months of legal motions and discovery that the shady origins of those accusations became clear.

In July 2018, a man identifying himself as James Howard emailed Musk’s personal assistant claiming to be a private investigator, according to court documents. “You may want to dig deep into Mr. Unsworth[‘s] past to prepare for his defamation claim,” the mysterious sender wrote in a note that was forwarded to Musk’s chief of staff. “No smoke without fire!”

The following month, after Wood had sent Unsworth’s initial legal threat, Musk directed Jared Birchall, the head of his family office, to retain Howard, who had subsequently claimed to have worked for billionaire George Soros and the late Microsoft founder Paul Allen. Birchall hired the man and wired him some $52,000 to begin investigating Unsworth. He made no effort to verify Howard’s credentials or claims, which a BuzzFeed News investigation later found to be false. He wasn’t a PI. He was James Howard-Higgins, a convicted felon who BuzzFeed News later found had spent time in prison for defrauding his business partners.

By mid-August, Howard-Higgins was feeding Birchall dubious information and suggested he had boots on the ground tracking the caver in the UK and Thailand. “Early feedback on the target is there is indeed an unpleasant undertone to some of his lifestyle choices,” Howard-Higgins wrote in an Aug. 17, 2018, email to Birchall. “There is no question that the target ‘associates’ locally with Europeans who enjoy ‘Thai comforts’ that are not acceptable in a developed society.” In court, Wood would also show email exchanges in which Birchall asked the supposed private investigator to leak information to the UK press to sully Unsworth.

On Aug. 27, Birchall emailed Howard-Higgins requesting more explicit information about the British caver. Claiming there were “planned attacks in the media and/or a lawsuit,” he provided a list of 14 specific questions for Howard-Higgins. Among them: inquiries about a possible divorce in the UK, whether Unsworth had met “his wife” in Thailand, and whether his Thai partner was “the 10th teenage girl he met before he decided to settle.” Howard-Higgins replied with a dossier on Unsworth, which, among other things, suggested that he met his wife when she was 18 or 19. This information, according to that document, was still being verified.

But all that information was wrong. Unsworth was not married to his Thai partner, who was much older than what Howard-Higgins had suggested to Birchall. Beyond that, there was no mention of the idea that Unsworth had taken a 12-year-old bride, something Musk would later relay to me.

On the stand, Musk, who never directly communicated with the investigator, said he’d heard that information from Birchall. In his testimony, Birchall only said that he told Musk that Unsworth had met his partner when she was 12, not that they got married then. Regardless, there was never any physical documentation of Howard-Higgins saying that Unsworth had married or even met a 12-year-old.

“Unfortunately, it turns out we were tricked,” Musk said on the stand.

Two former Tesla executives would later tell me that Musk’s hiring of an investigator was a perfect example of his reality-warping intentions. At Tesla, sources said, Musk would often convince himself something was possible — production goals, certain self-driving capabilities, skirting legal measures — and would overrule people whose job it was to manage those tasks. Engineers were hired and fired on the basis of their ability to realize an idea that Musk had predetermined had to be possible.

“He hired the PI because he needed to make it true,” one told me. “In the end, people are just working to justify his ego rather than anything else.”

They also explained Musk’s thought process for emailing me unsubstantiated claims about Unsworth. Musk, the executive said, would sometimes seed information to a third party, like a credulous journalist who might publish it in a story. In turn, he would endorse and share that story with millions of followers, creating a feedback loop of reinforcing opinions.

As the evidence mounted ahead of the trial, Musk refused to give in to what he later termed a “shakedown.” Though he wrangled with a Securities and Exchange Commission probe into his Tesla privatization fiasco, a National Labor Relations Board case on Tesla illegally discouraging workers from organizing, and a NASA safety investigation prompted by him smoking weed during an interview, Musk fought the lawsuit over a 15-month period. During that time, three general counsels and at least three top communications staffers left Tesla. He even fired the first law firm he had hired for the Unsworth case.

Because Musk’s emails to me were part of Unsworth’s initial complaint, I also became entangled in the case. Both sides requested my deposition, and Musk’s requests seemed particularly invasive, asking questions that seemed to get at my newsgathering process and relationships with sources. At one point a process server showed up at BuzzFeed’s San Francisco office while I wasn’t there and sat in our entryway until an editor threatened to call the police.

BuzzFeed News successfully fought off Musk’s subpoena, while Unsworth eventually dropped his. Following that, the plaintiff’s lawyers — who had spent much of the year attempting to build a case partially on Musk’s emails to me — decided they would not use them in court as grounds for defamation, opting to instead sue only over his “pedo guy” tweets.

It was a puzzling choice, abandoning what some experts thought were Musk’s most defamatory statements about the plaintiff. Perhaps Wood had determined Musk’s statements to me hadn’t reached as wide an audience as his original tweets did. Perhaps they worried a discussion about what “on the record” and “off the record” mean would add too much complexity. Wood later declined to answer questions about his legal strategy.

Bloomberg / Getty Images

Vernon Unsworth stands outside the federal courthouse in Los Angeles, Dec. 6, 2019.

If Musk is the megalomaniac billionaire who dreams of colonizing Mars (and dying there), Unsworth is his antithesis. A quiet man most at home exploring the depths of the Earth, the Brit was unknown until summoned to help the Thai boys soccer team. His public persona since has been defined by media coverage of the rescue, the fallout from the fateful 43-second CNN interview clip, and the few images of him that exist on wire services and are reused with every article. But when I spoke with him at length after the trial he came a bit more into focus.

The first time we spoke, in the presence of one of his lawyers the day after the trial, I expected to find a defeated man. Instead, Unsworth was bright, if not enthusiastic, chiming in to fill the gaps of his lawyer’s laments and exuding a certain Englishness by saying he’d “take the result on the chin.” He appeared happy it was over.

Our conversations, which continued over the phone, countered the image of the rough, emotionless exterior Unsworth displayed in court. We spoke and texted about his interests: his love of caving and Tham Luang; the incredible undefeated streak of his favorite soccer team, Liverpool; and his optimism for Brexit now that the Conservative Party was in control. His texts were liberally punctuated with prayer hands and laughing-crying face emojis that made it feel like I was communicating with an overly enthusiastic teen. But when we talked, it was mainly about the trial, and his worries that the defense’s portrayal would cast doubt on his heroic efforts.

“That’s not going to go away,” he said. “The pedo tag is always there. … It’s still difficult to understand why the jury got it so wrong.”

During one of our calls, I Googled Unsworth’s name. The first result was a Dec. 7 article from the Sun titled “Who Is Vernon Unsworth? Thailand Cave Diver Dubbed ‘Paedo Guy’ By Elon Musk.” He sighed when I read it aloud.

“That’s not going to go away,” he said. “The pedo tag is always there. … It’s still difficult to understand why the jury got it so wrong.”

The trial had been particularly difficult for Unsworth. Though he didn’t pay for legal representation — Wood took the case on contingency and funded it with more than $400,000 from his firm’s coffers — the personal cost was quite high. On the stand, the Brit had his personal life exposed and interrogated. He was questioned about his estranged wife and daughter who make up his broken family. And the UK tabloids, who sent staffers to cover every moment of the trial, wrote at length about his life in Thailand with his new partner, Tik.

Defense attorneys also read unflattering texts into the record in which Unsworth disparaged the Thai Navy SEALs for their incompetence. They misrepresented a satirical YouTube video created by a friend to portray him as a fame-seeker hungry for movie deals and diminished his crucial contributions to the cave rescue. Unsworth wasn’t a hero, lead defense attorney Alex Spiro suggested, the true heroes were the divers.

On the stand, Unsworth appeared unprepared for what seemed an obvious and important line of questioning. The caver said he felt “humiliated, ashamed, dirty” by Musk’s label, which he called “a life sentence without parole.” There were times he felt vulnerable, he added, his voice cracking: “I have good days and I have bad days.”

But when Spiro pressed him on that, Unsworth stumbled. Had he sought out a therapist to help temper his emotional anguish? Had Musk’s insult caused him to lose any jobs or friends? Did he discuss it with his family? “I bottled it up,” he said on the stand.

The defense painted Unsworth as a man unharmed by the insult and instead widely lauded in the months following the rescue. In the trial, they showed photographs and videos of Unsworth being congratulated by the UK prime minister, palling with Thai government officials, and smiling while Prince William pinned him with an MBE, an appointment to the Order of the British Empire. It was calculated and effective. If the defense was going to lose the argument around the semantics of “pedo guy,” it would at the very least try to limit damages.

Unsworth’s lawyers, on the other hand, called no witnesses who could have proven Musk’s words harmed their client’s reputation. Wood played a video deposition of Unsworth’s estranged wife seemingly to establish sympathy for the plaintiff, but it only ended up showcasing a broken marriage. And he never called Tik, who could have corroborated his claims of pain and anguish. Spiro called no witnesses for the defense.

After the case concluded, Unsworth bristled at the efforts from the defense to belittle his contributions, including one moment where he had been asked by an attorney whether or not he felt like he needed to apologize to Musk. He spoke of how he and Tik had been investigated by four different sets of Thai authorities, including immigration police, following Musk’s tweets. Unsworth also recalled his embarrassment when Prince William mentioned the altercation during the MBE ceremony.

It’s hard to say if those anecdotes would have made a difference, but it’s worth noting that none of the four jurors I interviewed after the trial found Unsworth to be a particularly sympathetic figure. Two of them agreed with the defense’s position that this was an argument between two men and that Unsworth had started it with his remark on CNN. All four said the caver’s team had done little to establish harm, with one calling that failure the “nail in the coffin for his case.” Another said that they viewed both men, the Brit and the billionaire, as heroes caught up in a juvenile spat.

“That’s where they’re wrong,” Unsworth said. “None of us rescuers or divers — none of us — regard ourselves as heroes. So why is Elon Musk a hero? Look up in the dictionary the definition of ‘hero.’ He’s not done anything that’s worthy of hero status.

“But if there is a hero of either one of us, I’d hope that arrow be pointed at me.”

Mark J. Terrill / AP

Musk (right) arrives at the federal courthouse in Los Angeles, Dec. 3, 2019.

Musk was playing The Battle Of Polytopia — a mobile game “about ruling the world, fighting evil AI tribes, discovering new lands and mastering new technologies” — when I ran into him in the elevator on the day of the verdict. I hadn’t seen him in court since the day of his testimony.

“Are you allowed to talk about the case?” I asked.

“No.”

“Are you going to sit for the jury verdict?”

“I… I think so,” he stammered, clearly miffed at being distracted from his mobile game. The elevator door opened before I could follow up, and Musk’s guards cut me off as he exited. I’m still not sure if he knew who I was.

Outside the room, Wood seemed nervous. A day earlier, the Georgia lawyer held court with reporters, twirling a Juul between his fingers as he spoke. “Vernon Unsworth wants a verdict, and we’re going to get him a one, good or bad,” he remarked — an odd thing to say about a case he had taken on contingency. Then he told us he planned to retire at his lake house following the jury’s decision.

Wood was more on message during his closing arguments. With the manner of a Southern Baptist preacher, he declared the rescue of the Thai soccer team “a miracle from God” and compared Musk’s tweets to “a nuclear bomb” that decimated Unsworth and created fallout that would affect him for years to come. He told the jury of his commitment to Unsworth and his faith in the rule of law. He suggested Musk became involved in the cave rescue because “publicity drives attention, attention drives investors” — a remark that certainly went over well with the Tesla critics who’d begun following him on Twitter. He was ruddy with passion; at one point, Wilson asked him to keep his emotions in check. Then it got personal.

“Elon Musk is a liar,” Wood said. “How do I know it? I don’t know Elon Musk. I’ve seen him in his deposition. I’ve seen him a couple of times in the courtroom. He walked by me. I’ve never shaken Elon Musk’s hand. He refused to shake my hand.”

Wood never managed to explain just why he thought Musk was a liar, but the billionaire certainly has a propensity for playing fast and loose with the truth — I’d heard this endlessly from former employees, confidants, and investors. But had Musk lied in court? His legal team’s retelling of events was certainly generous, but if there had been a truly egregious falsehood on the stand, I hadn’t heard it. And Wood had never flagged it. The jury seemed unmoved by his hand-waving.

Wood’s request for damages evoked a similar, if not worse, response. With a giant marker, he wrote a bunch of numbers on a large white poster board: for actual damages, defined as the suffering the plaintiff had experienced, $5 million. For assumed damages, the hypothetical harm the plaintiff could have endured from the defendant’s reckless words, $35 million. And for punitive damages, the amount intended to discourage a man worth tens of billions of dollars from doing this again, $150 million.

“I have bad days too, but I don’t walk around saying people should give me $2 million.”

I saw one juror struggling to conceal a smirk as Wood wrote out the total. $190 million was an extraordinary number. Had it been granted, it would have been one of the largest-ever awards given in an individual defamation case.

The sum did not go over well with the jury. After the trial, a number of jurors told me they couldn’t understand those eye-popping numbers, particularly with no clear evidence of harm. “I couldn’t put a dollar amount on ‘I have good days and bad days,’” one said. “I have bad days too, but I don’t walk around saying people should give me $2 million.” Another said the jury considered ruling against Musk and then awarding a symbolic $1 to Unsworth.

Outside the courtroom, there was a similar reaction; impressions of the British caver had soured. Twitter users worried about the optics of asking for that much money, while some found Unsworth to be a money-grubber. On a message board used by the Brits living in Thailand — an online community that Unsworth sometimes frequented — members debated the request. “Guilty but not $200m guilty,” wrote one person.

Damages had been Wood’s call, according to the cave rescuer. But for Unsworth, who makes £25,000 a year as a financial adviser, they made sense. How do you sanction a man with seemingly unlimited resources? Any number that sought punitive recourse against a billionaire is going to look preposterous, and they had to outline something for the jury. “[The money] wouldn’t have affected Musk anyway,” Unsworth told me.

Musk’s legal team used the damages request as a cudgel. Noting the reaction in the courtroom, Spiro mocked the sum in his closing argument. “And all of a sudden I hear numbers being thrown out like this is The Price Is Right or something,” he quipped. “They certainly weren’t wedded to any evidence.”

That argument seemed to resonate with the jury, as did a series of rhetorical questions delivered with a steady cadence. “Where’s Tik?” Spiro asked again and again, a reminder that Unsworth hadn’t even called his partner to testify about the emotional and mental impact of Musk’s remark. Then there was contrition: “Listen, Mr. Musk apologized. He doesn’t like those tweets. The shareholders didn’t like the tweets. Elon’s mom didn’t like the tweets. But he didn’t say that this nameless dude committed the crime of pedophilia.”

That last line, an almost throwaway point barely discussed in the days prior ended up being the killshot. Musk’s tweet didn’t mention Unsworth by name, Spiro explained. If the “reasonable person” Wilson described in his instructions to the jury stumbled across Musk’s tweets, how would they know whom he was talking about?

“In no way did I think that the Musk tweet was justified or fair — but on the other hand, well, he didn’t mention Unsworth,” juror Carl Shusterman told me. An immigration lawyer who had admitted during jury selection that he owned two Teslas, Shusterman said that the group of eight considered all of the judge’s five criteria. But once they agreed the average person wouldn’t understand the tweet was about the caver, they had their verdict.

It took less than an hour. They barely had time to finish lunch.

I struggled to understand the logic. If the tweets were analyzed in a vacuum without any context, sure, a reasonable person might have no idea who Musk was writing about. But beyond that vacuum is context accessible within seconds — thousands of news articles and videos, innumerable tweets, and the biggest search engine in the world tying the words “pedo guy” to Unsworth’s name in perpetuity. Spiro’s assertion was convincing on some level, but it was also preposterous. The jury’s decision seemed to be a fundamental misunderstanding of how people use the internet.

“This was a great ‘internet isn’t real life’ moment,” Ken White, a First Amendment lawyer who blogs as Popehat, told me a few weeks after the case. “What people online think is obvious and self-evident … is not how people in the courtroom see it. People were frequently shocked that there was any potential defense of the case, and they felt so strongly about these things that they mistook those feelings for law.”

Mark J. Terrill / AP

Musk arrives at the US district courthouse in Los Angeles, Dec. 4, 2019.

Musk left the courtroom visibly smug. “My faith in humanity is restored,” he said to a scrum of reporters before disappearing into an elevator surrounded by his security team. That night, Tesla’s general counsel quit — the third to do so in a year. A few days later, Musk blocked me and a handful of other journalists on Twitter.

In the weeks that followed, a buoyant Musk would take to the streets of Los Angeles in his Cybertruck prototype, hang out with Kanye West and the Kardashians, and pal around with presidential hopeful Andrew Yang. He celebrated Tesla’s stock hitting an all-time high with memes about $420, the weed-associated number associated with his attempt to take the company private in 2018. January saw him dancing enthusiastically onstage at a Shanghai factory that became the first to manufacture Model 3s in China. Tesla’s market capitalization recently surpassed the $100 billion mark.

But those who know Musk say they’re not sure the billionaire and his car company will be able to maintain this momentum. “In his mind, he’s emerged unscathed — ‘Tesla’s stock price is up and I’m still in my job’ — but if there’s any one word for that stock, it’s ‘volatility,’” one former executive said. “It just looks like good news because it’s contrasted against a past avalanche of bad news.”

“I hope I am wrong about him. I hope he takes people to Mars one day.”

Another person, this one more of a Musk optimist, worried this legal victory would only supercharge one of the billionaire’s most difficult-to-wrangle instincts. “The lawsuit reinforced what he believes is his best strategy: ‘When everyone else is telling me not to do it, I’m going to do it,’” they said.

A week after the trial’s conclusion, Wood inexplicably tweeted an observation that seemed to contradict the arguments he had made in federal court. “The verdict in Unsworth v. Musk spoke the truth,” the lawyer wrote. “While written as possible libel, Elon Musk only intended an insult. Thus, no factual statements were intended. Truth removes any question marks as to Vern’s reputation. Truth wins. So do both parties.”

As critics promptly hammered Wood online and suggested he had left his client out to dry, I wondered if he had just become the latest person to buy into Musk’s reality distortion field. So I asked him whether he still felt the same way about Musk.

“His image has been built to a level that only the most serious of charges could shatter it,” Wood wrote to me. “I hope I am wrong about him. I hope he takes people to Mars one day. But I know what I learned from the evidence.”

I closed Wood’s message and opened my email account. As I did, I saw a reminder to follow up on a note a few days earlier. I had sent it on the final day of the trial, in the blurry hours after the jury let Musk off the hook. “Hey Elon, any thoughts on the verdict?” I had written. He never responded, on or off the record. ●

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