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sgt-scottymoreau · 10 months

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What happens in Siberia, stays in Siberia - Part 1

Summary: After months of secretly feelings, things lead that another and some of these feeligs comes out in a rather messy way. But honestly nothing is ever easy.

Warning: None

Words: 3.9 // AO3 // Part 2 // Masterlist

A/N: So I posted a poll on my main to know which fic should be next, this one won. However, from my three options, this was also the one that I wanted to rework a little (actually second time I do lol) I'm not quite done yet, but this fic is already getting as big as it is, so it will be in two (maybe three? I mean so far I have over 12k words!) part. I suppose as a heads up I could say that part 2 will have some spicy to it, if you catch my drift. What did you think I mean when I say everything will be messy?! lol

Although it was known that the 141 was considered an international task force, it was odd for some to see someone from another country roaming around the base. Especially that it had been give or take five months since Scotty joined. It’s true that she did stand out while wearing her work uniform, she was always proud to wear her colors and everyone was aware of her background. Words spread fast. So did the rumors as to why she would remain here. Especially among new recruits who might not have all the latest updates. But whatever the others were thinking, Scotty didn’t mind much. Because whatever the others could say or think, she actually enjoyed the team. It was a change to have something stable after some many issues. No one ever bothered her about it. Some curious characters here and there did ask or engage in a conversation to either put a clear view on whatever rumor they heard. Meanwhile, others could be bold and unafraid. Just like today.

The five of them were sitting at the table, enjoying some well deserved rest and meal with a lighthearted conversation. Mostly the three sergeants engaged in it, talking about everything and nothing. Or about the old days before the task force. Ghost was listening in silence, it was entertaining, but he didn’t find the need to add more, and Price simply enjoyed the calm. Especially since he was waiting to meet Laswell soon for some important briefing. ‘’So there’s that one time I tell my teammates that if the amount of cocaine found was one tonne, I would jump in the water.’’ Scotty said.

‘’Sounds like you did.’’ Soap laughed, taking another bite of his meal.

‘’I, in fact, did not. I think it was De Keyser who said it wouldn't be more than 700 kg. According to our intel, it was a small drug bust. If he lost he was the one to jump. So here we are counting, not even close to 500 kg, I start to worry. But then, one of the port security found another container. Low and behold, 856 kg in total! According to De Keyser, the water was freezing cold that day. It was funnier to fish him out.’’

‘’Poor man ran out of luck that day.’’ Gaz laughed. He could imagine how her colleague must have felt to lose by not much. Lost in their shenanigans, none of them saw the recruit approaching their table. When the young one was in range they looked at him, curious about what he had to say. Even more when they noticed the other recruits in the back pointing at him and whispering at each other. Obviously, it was dare or something along those lines.

‘’How can we help you?’’ Soap asked, offering his kindest smile.

‘’Hmm, not you. Her.’’ Oh even if it was a dare, he had a certain arrogance in his tone. That was promising. Scotty raised an eyebrow, putting down her fork and giving her full attention to the newcomer. ‘’You're not exactly from here, so why stay with them? What’s your job? Task Force’s bitch?’’ Boy had a lucky star watching over him, because everyone at the table stopped what they were doing to stare at him. Everyone shifted on their seats. Price put down his paper ready to reply something to the young one disrespecting his superior but Scotty was faster. She kept a calm tone and serene face.

‘’Oh I fucking wish!’’ This reply took everyone by surprise, even the rookie who suddenly didn’t know what to say. ‘’That’d be the dream! No more brushing with death, no reports to fill after mission, no exhausting training to stay in shape, fixed work hours and weekend free perhaps.’’

Price let his head fall on his hands with a disappointed sigh. Ghost who had been ever so silently following had not changed his expression but behind the mask wasn’t holding a smile. On the other hand, Gaz and Soap were almost rolling under the table. She said this with such seriousness and calmness, it was almost unbelievable. Her face had and was still impassible, the most serious she could be. ‘’Would that be all or should I also told you how I would satisfy every single of these men?’’ Scotty added leaning on the table to be closer to the rookie.

Gaz and Soap were on the verge of crying at this point, after Price groaned loudly in emotional pain. There were some things he didn’t need to hear, even as a joke. The recruit's face went red so fast, it was a miracle he was still standing on his feet and had not passed out from embarrassment. He tried to mumble some sort of excuse now that his smugness was all gone. He quickly ran back to his friends who had heard some of the conversation and were also laughing. She waved at them, resisting the urge to flip them off. It took Soap and Gaz another minute to finally be able to breathe again. Price watched his watch; what a relief.

‘’I have to meet with Laswell.’’ He said getting up. ‘’I hope you will behave while I’m gone.’’ He had a smile on his face. Even if he couldn’t believe what just happened, it was better to see his team able to bond like this than be at each other's throats.

Hadn’t finished their meal yet, they all remained in the mess hall. Still joking about what was going on. ‘’So that be the dream, aye?’’ Soap brought this statement back.

‘’Anything that allows me to stay alive another day and have fun. Sure.’’ She laughed. ‘’Isn’t like the 141 was made of bad looking guys.’’ It wasn’t far from the truth. Which was a bold statement to say when everyone concerned could hear. The only thing that made her a little awkward was that she was saying this next to Ghost. While she was maybe teasing the other two, Ghost was another story. Even if she hadn’t seen his face yet, the mystery of the man had some effects on her. That and his damn voice. And how large he was. And… she could go one for a while. He had been cold at the beginning, but over time he did show that he did care for everyone equally. Scotty also learned to act a little more relaxed around him, instead of being tense and awkward, even if she had some feelings for him. It was hard to know if he would reciproque them and honestly she did not expect, so better live with this and just be herself than restrain herself. It was always easier to joke when Soap was around anyway.

‘’Glad to hear, I’m good looking.’’ Soap grinned.

‘’Oh please, you would be the first one to ask for anything. Gaz? I don’t know, you look like the kind of respectable man who wouldn’t.’’

‘’You could be surprise.’’ He commented.

‘’Price? Too much respect for the Captain, that would be awkward.’’ She snorted.

‘’What about Ghost?’’ Soap asked. Scotty turned slightly to look at the lieutenant who suddenly was very focused on the conversation. She felt she had been pushed in the spotlight. His gaze through his mask was stern. She wasn’t sure what to answer here. However all of it was casual banter, nothing that could hurt.

‘’You are a bunch of idiots right now.’’ He groaned before Scotty spoke up.

‘’We all know the lieutenant doesn’t care about this kind of stuff.’’ She shrugged it off, getting a small laughter from the other two, but a cold glare from him. Few months back this would have scared her to death, now it was just a background thing. ‘’That’s why I keep my mind on only Soap would be using my service and honestly that would make him the second whore of the 141.’’ Gaz wheezed again at this remark. Soap was amusedly offended.

Ghost would have also smiled at the comment, it was a good comeback. However there was something different this time. He knew, deep inside he knew so bad she was just joking. It was how she was; laidback, cracking jokes around less dark than his but everyone had their way to light up the mood. He learned that over the time they had missions together. She had changed a lot since she joined. He remembered how she was so tense around him that one time they had to lay low at her family. Nowadays, it was great to see her more relaxed. But that was beside the point. The point was that as much as he liked her being like that, something was in this moment, in this specific way of being so casual with Soap that… annoyed him? Ghost couldn’t pinpoint exactly what the feeling was. He never felt that before. She had joked like this before, this wasn’t the first time. If he was good with little army humor that mostly consisted of dark humor, Scotty was a pro at innuendos jokes. She had no filter sometimes and he appreciated her directness. He had no right to feel so… angry at her for doing so?

No he wasn’t angry at her. Nor Soap or Gaz to follow up in shenanigans. It wasn’t annoyance either. But he knew it came from how close the two looked at the moment. How they exchanged these ideas like… maybe there was something more behind the laugh. Right now, Ghost didn’t like how Soap was looking at her… It hit like a rocket to the face. It was jealousy! He was being jealous of his sergeant. But why? It wasn’t like… Her bursting in laughter at whatever had been said, sent a wave of warmth through him. It felt appeasing and nice. Come to think of it, it was not the first time this feeling was flaring up. Some days, even the most mundane conversation with her had the same effect. When she would be back from a high risk mission. Ghost watched her talking without paying attention to the conversation. Only to realize, she was actually trying to get his attention.

‘’Lieutenant, everything is alright?’’ Scotty asked. It was now that he finally noticed that the other two were gone. It was just her and him. ‘’You have been staring for a while now.’’

Had he? Seeing that it was indeed only them at the table, he sensed a small relief on his jealousy. That didn’t help how confused his head felt. It added more to it. ‘’Sorry, I was thinkin’.’’ He said hoping this would be enough for her to let go and not ask more questions. But her brown eyes didn’t look away, as she was about to question him. He made eye contact. It was this precise second, that he was once more hit so hard by the obviousness that he couldn’t believe it was that. But it was pointless right? He was too cold for her right? He was the opposite of her. She was far more like Soap, they would fit well… Jealousy came back at this thought. Yes it was this… He had feelings for her… ‘’Fucking hell, you are fool Simon.’’ Ghost thought to himself.

‘’Glad to see you are still here.’’ Price took him out of his thoughts. The lieutenant and sergeant gave their full attention to the captain. He dropped a file on the table. ‘’I have an assignment for you two. Siberia.’’

They have been dropped a few klicks away from their target to ensure that now one would spot them. The night was cloudless allowing the moon to come through and light the way. It was still very cold, thanks to their winter gear, they were able to keep warmth in. Another positive point, the weather was clear at the moment, allowing them to make their way through the heavy snow more or less easily. It reached above their ankles at almost every step and they were traveling with light gear equipment. This was hell of a workout. Their mission was simple; infiltrate an old abandoned Russian facility. Intel showed that it wasn’t as desert as they thought and sight of convoy bringing in and out materials required a deeper investigation. It seemed to be chemical in origin. Arriving at their destination, they lay low on the snow. Scotty readjusted her hood to keep the wind from blowing her face.

"Ghost, Scotty sitrep?" Price's voice came through their radio.

"We reached the target point, Captain." She replied.

"Roger, from now it will be radio silence till you get what we need. Contact me when all is over and I’ll give you the coordinates for evac. Good luck."

Ghost had already his sniper out and scouted the area. Scotty took out the binocular. The building didn’t look heavily guarded. Being in the middle of almost nowhere, there wasn’t much reason to waste assets on the outside. Still, two guards on the front entrance, four making rounds on the higher roof. Two more near a back door and finally three walking around the base of the building. This was a decent number, rather normal for this kind of facility, and nothing they couldn’t handle.

“See anything good?” Ghost asked, always focusing with his snipe.

“We have two options.” She replied, grabbing her infra light. She pointed to the bigger door. “We can either force ourselves by the front door by taking down the two guards.”

“Bold move, dangerous.”

“Or, here, by the east side of the building. There’s an exit, unguarded. Only one of the walking guards passes by once in a while.” Ghost followed the ray to see what she meant. This was a safer way in.

“Good job, let’s move.” They put away their tools and advanced toward the building. The snow was softly crunching under their weight at each step. Their warm breath clashed with the cold Siberian air. Little clouds forming each time. Eventually, they crouched in the white, their tactical clothes allowing them to blend. Near the site, they took the first cover available to keep advancing. Two guards walked by laughing about something. Once clear, they quickly made their way to the exit door. Of course it was locked on the outside by a security system. Scotty took a small device and connected it to the keypads. There were so many possibilities but hopefully the combination will be found fast.

Ghost kept watch. “How long?” He whispered.

“I don’t know, it could be in a minute or five. Anyone coming?” Her eyes never left the screen for a second.

“Negative.” They returned to silence. Ghost suddenly caught the noise of crunching snow. “Wait.. Fuck. Scotty tells me we have something, someone is coming!”

“We have three numbers out of five lieutenant… four. Come on, come on… Yes!” She disconnected the device quickly, opened the door and they quickly infiltrated in. The door closed behind him a little before the guard arrived. It was like no one was ever there. The warmth of the building was the first shock. A welcomed one. They carefully and steadily made their way inside the facility. The distance to their target destination was a long one. Although they were on the lookout for any chemical containers, which they actually saw a few as they advanced deeper in the building, their main target was the servers room. If they could extract more information over this whole operation, this would prove very useful. Somehow, Ghost and Scotty go on the lucky side, they barely encounter any security. If any, it was easy to avoid them. The last thing they needed was to leave or make a mess that would attract more trouble.

Crouching around the corner, Ghost looked over his shoulder. The servers were right there. Only two guards were standing there. Obviously, the value of what was in there was worth stationning personnel there. That was good and bad. "Got your knives?" He asked her.

"Always." She smiled and took one out. "What's your plan?"

"Distraction. Hopefully they move. Once they are both more in the open, they go down." On this, he threw a piece of metal that was hanging there. The guards mumbled something and stepped forward of their station. Ghost counted down and on three, they threw their weapon. One last surprised cry came out of these men before falling to their death. The two operatives swiftly grabbed their bodies and dragged them in the room. From now on, they had to work fast. Anyone who would pass by might be alerted by the missing guards. To their surprise, the servers looked to be handmade. A bunch of recovered pieces, patched all together into something somehow working. Their enemies were quite resourceful.

Scotty took place at one of the servers built in computer and plugged the drive. Ghost kept overwatch. "How long will it take?"

"I wish I could give you an answer but you never know with this kind of equipment." Scotty admitted. Without wasting more time she started typing. She first needed to get in the system, then will have to look around for the specific files. Hopefully it will be a piece of cake.

*****

Thirty minutes later and the only piece of cake was that no one had shown up. Ghost was running low in patience and so she was. "What do you want me to do!" Scotty raged between her teeth after he had voiced his annoyance at the stagnant work.

"Anything that would make it go faster." He replied in the same tone.

"No wonder you like to work alone…" She was racking her brain to find a solution. She had breached the system, but they had encrypted everything, so it was hell of a process to unlock all files. This would take longer than the time that had already passed. Unless… She grabbed her multitool. From what she guessed during her quick look around, this server was mostly made of random hard drivers all connected together. Half of them had been checked without anything interesting. Her last option was to simply remove the leftover drivers and take them home. Ghost watched her as she popped the drivers out of their slots, completely taken off guard. She took ten of them out and wrapped them in whatever she found, so at least the components would stay intact as much as possible. Then shoved the bounty in her backpack.

Through the mask, Scotty could feel the wondering gaze. She simply shrugged it. He wanted fast and she gave him fast. He did like that in a sense. Now it was time to get out of this place and rendezvous with the exfil. Coast was clear. They stealthy made their way out of the room, making sure to not make a sound. They barely had turned the corner of the hallway, when shouting came from behind. "Here goes the smooth sailing." Scotty thought. The man shouted something that did not seem right for them. As if he was alerting the others.

Ghost turned around with his gun and shot without hesitation. However the sound of it echoed throughout the area loudly. More reason to not stay here and see what happens next. The two soldiers ran down the stairs. Footsteps followed from behind, lots of them. They had to exit the building now, but how? It seemed like the building was swarmed by guards. They could retrace their steps to the emergency door they found earlier. That is if it was still unguarded. It would be surprising if by now the enemies had raised the alarm and all exits were compromised. Ghost took the lead in to figure out a way out. They covered some distance on the ground floor before they were forced back up when they saw many shadows stretching from the hallway in front and the steps from behind. They hid behind crates when they heard commotion coming their way. Crouched, they attempted an escape when one man noticed them and yelled something in russian. ‘‘Go! Go! Go!’’ Ghost ordered pushing her in front of him and he started shooting.

Making their way who knew where, they found themselves cornered. Scotty looked around for anything where they could hide. ‘‘Lieutenant, there!’’ She shouted pointing out some old lockers.

‘‘Are you out of you mind there’s not way we fit in!’’

‘‘Well we have no choice!’’ She pushed him towards them. They had only a few seconds to spare. They quickly checked some lockers which all had something inside or were locked and when they finally found one to hide in, there was no more time to look at the others. They would have to cramp in there. They jumped in it and tried to close the door. If none of them moved, they could make it. They heard footsteps and voices on the other side. ‘‘They couldn’t have gone far! Find them!’’

They remained still. There was still some activity outside. ‘‘Let’s wait a few minutes then we get dash out of here.’’ Scotty whispered.

‘‘Roger that.’’ He replied, looking away. She was pressed so close against him, if it wasn't from the bulletproof vest, he dared to think… No! He had to focus on the mission. However it was hard to do with her squirming around to be comfortable and not get any numb limbs. Ghost was so large he took most of the space! ‘‘Can you stop moving!’’

‘‘Sorry it’s hard to find a comfortable position…’’ The voices had gone by now, but they agreed it would be safer to stay put a little longer in case someone was still scouting the surrounding area. She felt something against her leg. ‘‘Lieutenant, can you move your pistol?’’

‘‘That… is not my pistol.’’ He said between his teeth. Scotty was glad that there was barely any light in here, because her face turned red understanding what it was exactly. Time froze around them realizing the situation. Only brought back to reality by steps moving away along with shouting. Then silence returned. "Let's get out now."

Clear or not clear, they didn't hesitate to exit the cramped space. Ghost contacted Price as soon as he could to know the rendezvous point. At this point they only wished to be out of there, safe. A wish shattered when the earpiece rang with bad news from the captain. "Ghost, Scotty, a big storm is heading your way. We won't be able to extract."

"If we make it out alive, where to then?" Ghost replied, scanning the corner. He gestured to her to move forwards.

"Gaz found an abandoned safe house five klicks away, North from your position, hidden in the beginning of the forest. Stay put till the storm passes. Over"

"Roger, will give a sitrep once we are there. Out." Some good news. They wouldn't be dying from cold at least. They could still die of bullets though. Avoiding as many enemies as possible they luckily made it back to their entrance. Ghost told Scotty to be ready with her gun. He will advance to take one down with his knife while she shoots the other. The two guards taken care off, he pushed the door and they ran outside. The two soldiers were met with a cold piercing wind. Snow was already falling heavily. The walk to the safe house would be a painful and exhausting journey.

#call of duty #cod fanfic #cod oc #simon ghost riley #oc:camille scotty moreau #series: wie goed doet goed ontmoet #I'll ramble a bit in the tags cuz enough at the begining #but this is proof I'm trying more original story; I'm nervous af and I need to ramble!! AAAh #ok enough I hope you enjoy bye bye now #simon ghost riley x oc #ghost x scotty

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lunylune · 2 years

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Squires of Scoops ahoy! Chapter 1

Ao3 link

Eddie thought his new campaign was going swimmingly. He had acquired three new sheepies, though one of them had strayed. Dustin, Lucas and Mike were great freshmen, and great players, if a bit… frustrating at times. Mike and Dustin would not stop bickering and the others just sort of… ignored it. Gareth and Jeff just shrugged, claiming it was Eddie's problem for inviting them in. He was leaned sideways and back, nearly falling out of the chair while they were arguing. God he wished Lucas was here, at least they sort of settled, but he had betrayed them, and by betrayed them Eddie meant he was playing a match. Potato, tomato, etcetera and all that.

Dustin and Mike promised they would find a replacement, but the little girl, Lucas’ sister, had shown up happy to join until she found out they would be playing during her brother’s match. She had raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. “Steve is going to have your asses if you don’t show up to the game.” Which made Eddie and the other hellfire members very confused. “Already graduated Steve Harrington, King Steve, Steve the hair Harrington?” Eddie asked. Dustin had buried his head in his hands. “God he will actually drag us to the game and we are going to let him, whyyyy…!” Which, Eddie just shared a confused look with Jeff and Gareth. Sure, Dustin talked the guy up all the time, Mike hesitantly joining in sometimes. Lucas mentioned playing basketball with Steve too but… Eddie just hadn’t thought the other’s opinion was so important that they would abandon hellfire.

Mike scoffed. “As if.” But both Erica and Dustin had shot him a look conveying something Eddie was not in the loop on. Dustin just told him, “remember he was a lifeguard? He will fireman carry you to the gym.” Anyway, Erica did not become Lucas’ replacement, walking out with a “later losers.” Dustin grumbled something about her spending too much time with Max.

So they were continuing their campaign with one less player and Eddie was not planning on going easy on them. He did notice Dustin glancing at the clock every once in a while. It was only two more hours until the match, but Eddie felt very little sympathy. They had a choice to make and Lucas made it. No hard feelings, but that’s just what it is.

The argument over stealth or confrontation between Dustin and Mike continued. Thankfully, they were interrupted by a quiet knock on the door just as Dustin jumped up to strangle Mike, thank god. Eddie got up from his throne, usually enjoying making the newcomer or disturber walk in as he was intimidating, but he would take any excuse. “Jeff, make sure none of the children die.”

“And what do you want me to do about that?!” Yeah, Jeff was helpless.

Eddie opened the door, seeing the last of the little freshmen he had tried to recruit. Will Byers, the one that had been the group's previous dungeon master, but despite this refused to join. Eddie tried to not pry, but he knew some shit had gone down in their friend group, breaking it up just a little. Mike in particular was upset about it and Lucas always looked a bit guilty. Eddie thought it was kinda sad honestly, he would have loved for the younger Byers to join them, give the guy a place. Eddie heard the stories, and while he had not yet had a chance to tell him, he thought the nickname zombie boy was metal as fuck. “Well hello, can I help you.” Lame as hell, but he was out of theatrics with those other two still arguing. Will smiled, a little awkward, a little scared. God there went Eddie’s heartstrings. “Yeah, uhm, can I talk to Mike and Dustin for a second. Won’t be long I promise.” Eddie made a sweeping bow, opening the door wider for Will. “Welcome to hell… Mainly because of those two arguing.”

And Eddie had eyes, he noticed Dustin’s smirk, which was foreboding. And Mike perking up at the sight of Will, which would probably be trouble, because that boy had no communication skills. Oh dear oh dear did Eddie have a poor romantic idiot in his group. Eddie sat back down, calling a recess, “Because Byers had a message?” Will nodded, pulling out a… scroll. He liked this kid's style. “I do. Uhm, okay. To Dustin Henderson and Mike Wheeler, middle names pending.” Eddie’s grin grew as Dustin muttered, “oh shit we got full-named.”

Will continued. “In an hour, king Stefan the second, disgraced king, will be coming by the drama-castle. If you two are still here and not at the gym with Will the wise, faithful bringer of the message, you can forget about ever riding in his carriage for the rest of the schoolyear.” Will paused. “He means you guys can’t come to the arcade with me, Max, Lucas and El anymore. Not that he’s going to stop driving you, Robin made a little note of that.” Eddie, Jeff and Gareth all shared confused looks as Dustin and Mike killed up a fuss. “He can’t just-”

“He fucking wouldn’t-”

“He wouldn’t dare-”

Will held up his hands as they quieted down. This kid had balls. And while Eddie had so many questions, he loved this kids attitude. “Sir Stefan would like to remind Dustin Henderson that he and Dustin’s mother go to the same cooking club on Friday nights and will totally snitch and get him grounded.” Dustin flopped back down, wide-eyed as Mike snickered.

But Will wasn’t done yet. “And he would like to remind Mike Wheeler that because he babysits Holly the bravest, he can also get him grounded. And knows the exact location of your card collection.” Mike grumbled, as Will’s smile grew. “And if you ever want to see them again, you better be in the gym in an hour to support your friend.” Mike slammed his head into the table once, while Dustin packed his bag. “Well, that’s it, I’m sorry guys, sorry Eddie, but I’m not getting grounded by Steve. Through my mom! So Bye.” And with that, all Eddie could do was watch as Dustin rushed out the door. Well excuse him…?!

Will and Mike were having a staredown. “You can’t be serious,” Mike said, looking disgruntled

Will just shrugged. “Are you really going to argue with the note from reformed mean girl Steve Harrington.” I- What? Eddie shared a look with Jeff and Gareth, but it didn’t help. They were still confused.

Mike squinted. “You've been spending more time with Robin, Steve’s girlfriend.”

At this Will hid a smile. Hm, interesting. “Yeah Mike, totally. Anyway, you better get packing before Steve gets here.”

Mike crossed his arms, not budging. Now Eddie was all for pettiness but seriously, learn to give up little guy… Mike glared. “You used to complain about us not playing DnD and now you won’t even join and you interrupt our campaign, what gives dude!?”

Will shrugged. “I just put my friends first, Mike. You know, like you did with El all summer. Anyway…” Will made a motion towards the door. Mike groaned and stormed out the room, grabbing his bag and slamming the door.

This left Eddie, Gareth and Jeff with Will. Gareth looked confused. “So, what gives, little dude?” A fair question. Eddie would really love some answers at this point.

Will just shrugged. “If I delivered the note I get first dibs on Steve’s cookies and quarter privileges, so… Easy choice. Oh he had a note for you all too, wait.” Will looked through his backpack again, pulling out another note. Eddie was decently sure he was still in shock, because he just let him continue and also let two of his members just run out without penalty. “Hi guys, it’s Steve.” Will paused letting out a chuckle. “This guy I swear… Anyway, if you all want to come to support Lucas like he had been protecting you, feel welcome. Will, that’s me,” he pointed to himself halfheartedly as he continued reading, “told me you were having a last campaign before one of you has to leave over break, so if you do come by to support Lucas, you can borrow my house for the night along with the rest of the party to have a giant campaign there. There will be pizza and other snacks of choice, just let me or Robin know at sometimes around the game. If I don’t see you there, no hard feelings, but the kids really don’t need more problems between them. And he signed it.” Will held out the letter, which Eddie read it over, handing it to Gareth. Just… What? “What problems is he talking about, kid?” Eddie asked. He wondered, the kids had mentioned some things before, but never in detail.

Will looked a bit sad. “Well, we have been really close since being little. Things have just been… difficult, with a few things over the summer. Some shit went down. So me and Dustin were a bit left out. And we never really talked it out. I don’t want Lucas to feel the same as I did all summer, so I got Steve and Robin to write this.” Ah, okay, shit. Now Eddie felt like an absolute ass for driving more of a wedge between that little friend group. Jeff shot him a look. They all knew how important friends are.

If it hadn’t been for Gareth and Jeff, Eddie wasn’t sure what he would have done. Curled up in the trailer and died, probably. They hung out with him in summer, they stood by him as he had his stupid crushes on straight people, they went with him to Indi even if it wasn’t their scene. Had the children, mainly Dustin who needed his attitude checked, said something, he might have been more lenient or understanding.

Jeff sighed. “And you are sure that Steve Harrington is okay with us crashing his house to play Dnd? Like, I know we are all against labels and assumptions but…” Steve had a reputation. Of course, he had never bothered them, always discouraged his friends, and the only person Eddie had seen him actually push down was Jonathan Byers, Will’s brother. He heard of the story through gossip so maybe some details had gotten lost. But he heard Steve had broken Jonathan’s camera, with a few slurs thrown in that made Eddie rightfully uncomfortable. But if the kid was this at ease with the idea of visiting Steve’s house, maybe that all got resolved, maybe it was a story grown out of control? Maybe Eddie needed to see for himself… Eddie hummed. “Well, reformed mean girl you said?”

At this little Byers chuckled. “Yeah, you should see him when someone tries to bother me or El. He’s good, maybe he’s always been, you know? But now he’s definitely good.” Hm, okay. El was the nickname for Will’s stepsister, Jane Hopper. She reminded Eddie of himself as well. After the summer she had her head shaved, apparently again, and seemed to hate it. Eddie remembered that well… She was a little weird, a little quiet, always clinging to Max and Will. She reminded Eddie of himself too. If Steve was standing up for her… Maybe… Yeah, maybe…

“Well, I guess I’ll see for myself. Good with you guys?” They both nodded, Gareth shrugging. "Never been to a party at his house."

Eddie had been, once or twice, for less than legal reasons. Which is why even Steve's friends and most other jocks left him be. Who's gonna mess with the dealer in a small town? That is just a recipe for never getting high again.

They all packed up, Eddie getting out the weird little pinned up suitcase Gareth had made for transporting their DnD stuff. Eddie loved it but he found himself hesitating to bring it somewhere new, let alone Steve Harrington's house.

Will was waiting for them, swaying back and forth on his heels, smiling happily. Honestly, Eddie was kinda glad he agreed to this, maybe he finally got to talk to Will. He had a feeling the kid could use a friend who was… a bit more like him, hint hint nudge nudge. If Eddie was right, of course, not to assume. But those glances to Mike spoke volumes. The kid wasn’t subtle.

There was another knock on the door, which Jeff went to open, already packed up. "Harrington." Eddie looked up, seeing the king himself stand there in the doorway. God he looked… What? Gareth nudged him, getting back to packing as Steve peeked inside. "Yeah, hi. Are any of the kids still here?" Will walked over, waving to Steve. "Hi." Steve reached up to ruffle the kids bowl-cut hair, which Will tried to stop, but then Steve smoothed it back down with a small mumble Eddie couldn’t make out.

"Hi kid, got the message through."

Will chuckled. "Yeah. You should have seen their faces…!" Steve chuckled, finishing fixing the other boy’s hair. Dare Eddie say it looked better? "Well good, come on, we'll be late too."

Gareth finished packing as well. "Isn't there like… an hour left until the game?" At this Harrington… lit up. Oh wow. This time it was Jeff who nudged him and pulled him out of his minor panic. He had eyes okay!? The man was sunshine reincarnated when he smiled! "Wait, are you guys coming too!?"

Eddie tried to be casual, probably failing miserably. "Yeah, we got promised a place to play and pizza sooo. Although I'm not sure if we can play during a basketball afterparty."

Steve waved his hands around, seeming excited. "No no, just… the party, so all the hellfire members, the Byers, the Sinclairs, mini-Hopper, Mayfield and the Wheelers." Eddie… definitely knew who some of those people were…?

Will poked him. "And Robin." Steve nodded.

"And Robin and Argyle, but they kinda live in my house anyway at the moment so…? Yeah, long story. Not A party but THE party. That's what the kids call us. So, you are actually coming?" Eddie sighed, his gay little heart having made up it’s mind as soon as Steve smiled really. God, what if any of the stories Dustin told were actually true… Eddie might just perish on the spot.

"I suppose we must."

They started walking towards the gym, Steve was practically bouncing as he lead them to the gym. Any fear Eddie had over walking into a Carrie scenario disappeared as the jock kept rambling. "Oh man, Lucas will be so excited! He's been kinda down about having to pick between two hobbies, so seeing you support him will mean the world to him." Eddie was too busy having a minor crisis over Steve's warm eyes, but thankfully Gareth had his back. "He wanted us to come?" Right, of course Lucas mentioned it, but he had never outright asked. Acting as if them postponing hellfire was enough… Shit… Eddie was an asshole…!

Steve smiled. "Sinclair would never actually say, but yeah. Everyone should have someone there…" That sounded like there was more to it than Steve was telling them. Steve shot a glance at Will, who smiled back with a shrug. "Besides, I've been trying to do damage control with those seven all summer. Its good things are finally working out. Maybe seeing their role models, that’s you guys, there will finally convince Mike and Dustin people can have more to them than just… what people want to see. Does that make any sense? Sorry I'm rambling, spent too much time with Robin. because she is basically over every night now, and pre-game nerves, gah..!"

Actually, that brought up another question, for which Eddie leaned into Steve’s space. "Why are we getting there so early anyway?" Steve didn’t startle, but simply sidestepped a bit to not trip over Eddie.

Eddie felt himself go a bit weak over the confused smile Steve sent did way. Be still his beating heart! "Robin is in band and always needs some support. Will and El want to scope out a familiar spot so they know all the exits, don’t ask, it’s private, Max needs to buy lunch first and the rest has no sense of direction sooo." And just as he said that, they found Mike and Dustin arguing over if they should go left or right. Eddie muttered, “and here I thought I finally got some peace…”

Steve grinned, rolling his eyes. “I know right, they can be awful little shits.” As Eddie was still recovering, Steve walked up to the two and linked his arms through theirs, Mike letting out a squeak…! "Wrong way guys, come on." Steve dragged them in the other direction as Will laughed.

It was so fucking weird…! What was HAPPENING!?

~~~~~~~~

This all started one day when Will had enough.

It had been the summer of 85, and he spent most of it trying to keep his friends together. Oh yeah and he failed miserably. Dustin had been at summer camp and Mike and Lucas were too busy with their girlfriends. Not that Max and El were bad, but just… Will missed the times before… before everything… It would have been fine if they could all hang out together, because El was his new sister and Max was awesome, but it was just driving a wedge into the group… Will missed Dustin… He was usually really good at being the glue. Will wasn’t… Clearly…

He was sitting alone at Scoops ahoy, bored and trying to ignore the sadness trying to creep in. That had been happening a lot. His mom was working again, Jonathan was working while on a roadtrip in Cali and not calling. He felt lonely… And pathetic. He had a half completed character sheet in front of him but was debating trashing it. Because no one wanted to play his childish game.

His depressive musings were interrupted. "One secret double scoop of strawberry for Will Byers." Steve was standing in front of him with the icecream in his hand, free of course... Because it turns out Steve was pretty nice. "Thanks Steve."

Steve ruffled Will’s hair, something Will only half defended himself from, and sat down across from him in the too small booth. "Aren't you working?"

Steve shrugged. "I’m on break."

Robin called from the counter, "not for another half hour, but I'll allow it because you are apparently a single mother, Steve."

"Thanks Robin,” Steve said dryly before turning back to Will. "Oh cool drawings, what's it for?" Steve leaned over, but Will pulled the drawing back, holding it up and away.

"Dungeons and dragons… doesn't matter anyway." Before Will could explain why it didn’t matter, Steve beamed. "Oh that one game you guys always talk about right? I never get it too be honest, Dustin talks too fast. Wanted to, though."

Robin walked over too, flopping down in the booth next to Steve, poking him until he scooted aside. "There is no one in the store and I’m bored so I'm joining you. Is that a pirate? She looks awesome!" Robin was barely sitting, half standing to see what Will had been working on.

"Yeah I was working on a rogue character for Max if Lucas wanted her to join but…I don't think anyone wants to play anymore. Not even Lucas." He hated how childish and whiny the words coming out of his mouth sounded, god he really was a little kid…

But before he could crumple up the paper further, Robin pulled it out of his hands, Will letting out a cry in protest, and she went wide eyed and apologized. "Ah, sorry, it's just she looks epic and I always thought the game seemed fun but no one wanted to play with a girl except hellfire at school, but my mom won’t let me join a club like that so-"

Steve leaned over, interrupting her. "Your drawings got better, mini-Byers. Robin's right, she does look awesome." Will felt a weird sense of both happiness and resentment at the nickname. But he ignored it.

"If you want…" Will steeled himself. One last try, one last try to have a normal life back. "She can be your character. I still have to do her stats and backstory anyway."

Will was ready for the teasing, but Robin just looked excited, bouncing in her seat. "Oh yeah, really!? That would be pretty awesome! But we can't play alone, you need more than two players right?” Well, you could technically play with two and Will was about to tell her this, but Robin turned to Steve. “You should join us dingus!"

Steve looked more hesitant, making Wills' excitement wither just a bit. But instead of refusing, he said, "well, sure I always wanted to. You guys always sound so excited… But I'll probably be awful, sooo… maybe you should find someone else?" Steve looked dejected, like he already dismissed himself as an option. Will knew the feeling.

Robin nudged him. "Can't be as bad at this as you are at flirting, right." Will held back a laugh, but Steve winked, letting him know it was all good.

"Oh shut it Robin. But yeah with like, counting and all the rules and shit. Like, notes just kinda float away and numbers stopped making sense somewhere last year. Basic addition seems like rocket science now… ! Fucking ridiculous! I barely graduated, I doubt I can play your nerd-game."

Will jumped up. For one, he wanted Steve to stop talking about himself so badly. And two, maybe selfishly, he missed playing with friends. "We can play with different rules! Like, not easier, but just less, at first. Then I can try out story stuff I wanted to and we can help you count. Or just give you more time! Whichever you want, it will be so fun!"

Though Will saw a hint of excitement creeping in, Steve still resisted. "Well I don't think I want to be made fun of-"

"We wouldn't!" Robin and Will said at the same time, sharing a surprised glance.

Robin looked sheepish. "I know I made fun of your smarts before, but now finding out that you can't help it… I suppose it isn't really funny." Will nodded rapidly in agreement.

Steve held up his hands. "It’s fine guys-"

"It isn't," they said, again in unison, making Will smile and Robin laugh.

She pointed at him. "We are going to be great friends. I can already tell you are my favorite out of dingu- Steve's children."

Steve rolled his eyes. "You can still call me dingus, Robin. I actually don't mind." She made rapid hand-motions, mentioning for him to be quiet.

"As long as we are in agreement that it is a nickname based on prior ignorance which has been corrected and acknowledged."

Steve let out a long sigh. "I can't believe you-"

"Sorry, can I order?" Said the person, standing awkwardly at the counter. Robin then vaulted to counter with all the grace of a dead deer to help her out, giving Will a bit of time to explain some of the rules to Steve’s, calmly. He was bringing dice next time.

Will started coming by every other day, during the slow hours of their shift. He stopped asking Lucas and Mike and Max and even El. It was fine. He sat behind the counter, with his drawing stuff and backpack. Every once in a while he would hold up something for Robin to judge, who read it out to Steve, to whom they then explained it, sometimes twice. Will understood. Steve was learning a whole new thing. Will's whole new thing! Because he wanted to, because he thought it was fun! He asked questions, tone always a bit confused, but then excited when he got it. Robin gushed over Will's sketchbook he brought. These two objectively cool people like Will's "childish" stuff!

During their breaks (or you know… when it was quiet…) they would brainstorm attributes and skills, and Will would explain the rules to Steve and Robin.

He got the character for Robin ready. They decided on a bit looser rules, allowing for more roleplaying so Steve and Robin could get used to it and Will could try out new story lines. So she was playing a mix of rogue and bard, because "I literally play trumpet in band steve!"

Steve meanwhile, played a cleric bard mix, because "your music taste sucks Robin, also I take enough hits in real life let me help out with support for once…!"

"YOU LISTEN TO WHAM-"

Will was having the time of his life.

Naming of the characters was a whole different issue Will refused to get into.

Robin was really nice, really weird too in a way Will had only seen people get bullied for. But Robin didn’t get bullied. “I’m just… really good at hiding, little dude. That and working with Steve seems to have granted me some sort of immunity, it is wild?!”

“Yeah, the party too, though they still call me zombie boy.” A nickname he hated. It hadn't been his fault.

Robin hummed. “Zombie boy… That honestly sounds like the title of an awesome horror movie.”

“I don’t really like horror that much.”

“Hm, fair, I can’t watch horror after 8.” Will really liked Robin. He was almost glad Steve got a job here.

Steve and Robin were both the coolest and lamest people Will was hanging out with. One time he was sitting behind the counter, with Steve in the back and Robin working as he sketched. “Is he here?” Dustin? Will could practically feel Robin’s smirk.

“Is… Who here…?” Ever since they all agreed to make, one, no more nerd jokes for Will, two, no more single jokes for Robin, and three, no more stupid jokes for Steve (aside from the occasional dingus from Robin), most of the teasing had been about Steve’s many children. Of which Will was one, of course. So of course Robin had heard extensively about Dustin, but she was having fun. Will himself was excited, happy that Dustin was finally back. Maybe he had some his own age to talk to now. “Just… Is he here?!” Robin took a step to the left to dump her scooper. “Look kid, I don’t know what- Aah!” And promptly tripped over Will. Ouch. Disasters, they were both disasters and Steve was right.

Dustin leaned over to look over the counter. “Will?” He waved, Dustin confused but happily waving back.

“Hi Dustin. How was summer camp?”

“Henderson!”

And there was Steve.

Will and Robin both watched as they did their handshake, Will snickering at Robin’s baffled look. “I didn’t know he was not just a reformed mean girl, but also a closeted nerd. Starwars? Really?” Will nodded.

“Steve won’t tell us, but Dustin is his favorite.”

Steve interrupted his rambling with Dustin to point at Will. “Hey, no, wrong. You are all my favorite and if I had to pick I would pick Holly because she doesn't talk back.” They all laughed at Steve’s disgruntled expression.

Robin smiled, grabbing a scooper to get Will and Dustin an ice cream. “Go have a break with your children, dingus.” Dustin and Will shared an excited look. Steve crossed his arms, still hesitant.

“Rob, it’ll be rush hour soon…!”

Robin laughed, pushing them towards the door. “You are a single mother Steve, I can handle it.”

Will mumbled, not wanting to interrupt Steve and Dustin, especially after Dustin had not seen Steve in such a long time. “I can help, Robin.”

But Dustin dragged him along with Steve. “No way, I need to hear everything that happened. Why are Mike and Lucas being so lame now?!” Right! Vindication!

Steve waved at Robin as they dragged him along.

It was a good day.

Will couldn’t help smiling, afraid he would feel left out with Dustin there (like a stupid child…), but Steve was just really good at talking to both of them. You would never guess he was an only child, really. Made Will miss Jonathan, just a little. They told Dustin about the plan, about the campaign to ease Steve and Robin into DnD. Will quietly, but firmly, stopped Dustin from making any jokes, promising he would explain it later. Steve losing to Billy and getting the back of his head nearly smashed in was a rightfully sore subject still.

But, all in all, Dustin was excited about the campaign, excited Steve had another cool friend, even tried to hint at Steve dating Robin. Will just thought that would be weird, but he… he was pretty weird. Which is why it was pretty surprising to see Steve do the same. “Nah dude, it’s nothing like that. Anyway, we need to wait until summer’s up if we want to use my house, because my parents are home for once.”

“And we need a name!”

Dustin was right of course! How could they have forgotten?! “We totally do!!!”

Despite their brainstorming, they didn’t come up with a good name for a while. The party was already taken and some other names sounded really dumb. Steve sighed deeply. “Like, something with scoops ahoy, nah that’s stupid too.”

Will bounced in his seat. “No, that’s perfect. The squires of scoops ahoy, because we are all practicing! It’s perfect! Very dumb, but perfect!” He was so happy, that he finally got to share this with his friends again. Dustin and Steve both groaned, but agreed.

Dustin shrugged, “we should at least shorten it or something.” Will nodded in agreement, he would allow that.

Steve quietly mumbled, “scoop troop?” He said it so quietly that Will doubted he actually heard it right. But then Steve repeated it, a bit louder and a bit more sure.

Will nodded, “sounds good, how did you come up with that.” It was fun to say. Will missed Steve sending him a fond and exasperated look when he started saying it quietly.

“Well, Robin keeps saying it under her breath because “the words feel nice in her brain like that” and I have to agree. I think she infected me with it, because I swear I was singing it to the tune of the store…”

Dustin grinned. “That is hilarious.”

In the end their plans got a bit derailed by, you know, Russians under the mall.

A normal summer, all Will wanted was a normal summer...

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #will byers #robin buckley #steddie #dustin henderson #erica sinclair #scoop troop #lucas sinclair #mike wheeler #jonathan byers #argyle #fanfiction #ao3 #fanfic in progress #will joins the scoop troop #because he deserves it #steve harrington plays d&d

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torturedpoetsy · 17 days

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hollow soul ⸺ an anthology,, 1/7

“In this series of brief scenes and edits, you'll follow the demon Murtaugh, the personification of death, as he introduces a newcomer to the underworld city: Quasinoite and its ruling families.”

I´d like to give credits to fergsmacleod on twitter and jungrainsoul on deviantart for the amazing templates used in this post. Also this is heavily inspired by hazbin hotel.

The human only felt his last breath leave his body, and in the next second, he was falling, and falling, and falling, endlessly, never finding a bottom. It was as if all the air in his lungs was insufficient, and every organ weighed heavily within him. He felt every drop of blood, every strand of hair, every throbbing nerve. He was entirely aware of himself, and he hated every second of it.

When his body finally stopped, he found himself seated in a dark room, illuminated by a large, ornate skylight that cast a reddish gloom over him. The room felt both strangely vast and suffocatingly small at the same time. His eyes seemed to betray him—was he dreaming?

As he attempted to rise from the chair, a supernatural force pulled him back down. In the next moment, he saw a shadow materializing before him—a towering figure of a man, dressed in long, black garments that made his arms appear longer than they truly were. His hair was long and pale, his eyes entirely black, and, of course, there was that sharp smile with pointed teeth. A shiver ran through the man's body, forcing him to lower his head.

“Unwelcome to Hell! My name is Murtaugh, and I’ll be your guide.” Murtaugh vanished into smoke, only to reappear seated on the molten lava table in front of the mortal, causing him to jump in surprise. “What’s your name? Uh, let me guess, it´s something dumb like Ben, or James?” Before the human could even open his mouth, the entity continued, shrugging nonchalantly. “You know what? It doesn’t matter. You’ll have the chance to choose a cooler one later on. But that can wait.”

The demon snapped his fingers, and several objects materialized in a floating circle around them. Murtaugh appeared bored, resting his chin in his hand. He snapped his fingers again, and a small floating paper appeared before his eyes. He read it with exaggerated slowness and in a robotic voice, never ceasing to smile as if his cheeks might tear at any moment. “Yeah… welcome, blah blah blah, I’m Murt—Oh, I already said all that.” He made a dismissive gesture, and the paper flipped over. “In Quasinoite, we have seven main families that represent each of the primordial sins. If you’re really good, you can join one, be really important and live forever. If you’re just another poor incompetent soul, you’ll rot and burn until you´re nothing but sad ashes.”

He glanced at the human before snapping his fingers again, causing the paper to ignite and burn in the air. His smile widened. “Any questions?”

HOUSE VALENTINE: the lust.

The human, whose name remained unknown, observed everything with a look of disbelief so intense that it almost made Murtaugh laugh. However, for the sake of his sanity—and that of the poor soul before him—he maintained a serious demeanor. The demon then flicked his hand, causing the seven floating objects to glide swiftly through the air. With a swift motion, the blonde demon grabbed the blackened apple, making the others vanish in an instant.

“Now let’s see if you’re worthy of something in the afterlife, or if you were insignificant even in what brought you here.” He raised his eyebrows and began to idly toss the apple into the air, while the human continued to stare at him.

“So, what’s the deal?” The mortal looked slightly confused by the flood of information he’d received in the last few minutes. Finally shaking off his daze, he began to think more clearly. “I have no idea what’s happening.”

“Are you kidding me?” Murtaugh gave him a mocking stare, sighing and rolling his eyes as the human still looked bewildered. “You’re dead, sweetheart. You’re dead and rotting on the earth right now. And for some reason, you ended up in Hell. Lucky for you, by the way, the other guy isn’t as patient as I am.” He vanished once again, reappearing behind the human’s chair and leaning over his shoulder to whisper. “Listen carefully. I’m almost certain you’re just another one of the useless souls who will continue to pay for what they’ve done. But, if you were bad enough, you might join a family and own more than your tiny mind can imagine.” He extended his hand, projecting a small image of the city within it. “You could own a seventh of this place, command it, and live eternally in satisfaction, if you pass the test.”

“What test—” The sound of Murtaugh disintegrating cut him off, and the entity was back on the table.

“Let’s take it step by step. First, the Valentine family, the embodiment of lust. The most lascivious, impetuous, and fiery sinners…” He let out a theatrical sigh, then prominently displayed the apple. “Each object you saw represents one of the primordial sins: Lust, Wrath, Pride, Gluttony, Sloth, Greed, and Envy.”

“Like the movie?” the other interrupted, making the demon burst into laughter.

“Why the hell do people always ask me that?” Murtaugh shook his head rapidly before nodding. “Yes, just like in the movie, or whatever. The point is, each object will tell me if your soul aligns with a particular sin. If you fail all of them, it’s because none were strong enough. If you succeed with one, congratulations, you’re a rarity,” he said with a sarcastic tone.

“Do you want me to try the apple? Are you joking? It’s black, it looks rotten.” The look of disgust on the human’s face was amusing to Murtaugh, who wondered how this idiot would fare when facing the rest of Hell. But that was something he would only discover later.

“The flavor can vary, you know?” the demon said, leaning over the molten lava table. The human's eyes narrowed, wondering if this was some sort of cruel joke.

“I’m serious.” Murtaugh continued, biting into the blackened apple, allowing a thin trickle of what appeared to be blood to seep from the corner of his mouth. A satisfied sound escaped his lips as his eyes closed in pleasure. “Sweet as blood.” He licked the juice in his lips, it almost looked like he was kissed in a really intense way.

He tossed the apple toward the wretched soul, who, with no other choice, took a hesitant bite. Almost instantly, the human spat it out, recoiling from the pungent odor and bitter taste that assaulted his senses. “That's fucking disgusting.”

“Language." He hummed, with humor, only to be met with a derisive glance from the former mortal. "Well… it seems that you lack the affinity with this sin. Sex wasn’t one of your preferred pastimes, huh?” Murtaugh observed with dripping sarcasm, throwing his head back in a hearty laugh. “But, don’t worry! You’ll have plenty of time to indulge here if it wasn’t a common occurrence in your mortal life. Of course, everything has a price, even the pleasures of the flesh…”

The Valentine family is composed of all those sinners who were so devoted to lust that they were chosen to be its representatives. The family stands as a titan among the many powerful families of Quasinoite. Their influence weaves through the very fabric of the city's nightlife, from opulent party houses to clandestine brothels and grand entertainment venues. They reign as the undisputed monarchs of the Guts District, where the pulse of the night beats the strongest. The Valentines are instantly recognizable by their signature fiery aura, eyes that captivate with a single glance, and a silver tongue that few can resist. Their presence is felt in every shadow and whispered in every corner, a family whose legacy is as intoxicating as it is unassailable.

... to be continued.

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bultaonene · 10 months

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tk ring fighting au

CLANG! CLANG!

Jeongguk looks up at the top of the dome, the sound jarring. He can see the audience looking down at him – bored nobles that seek violence as enjoyment. They crawl over the dome like insects, roaring and hitting the metal cage with their canes.

It works like this, the Dome. The nobles, money overflowing from their pockets, pay to see a fight, to see blood. And the poor folk enters as contestants, risking their lives for a chance to win the prize and join the wealthy aristocrats. People say the prize is true, that a mountain of gold and a title awaits the winner, the one that will slay the Beast.

Jeongguk has never seen anyone coming out of the Dome alive.

And yet he's here, sword already bloody after fighting other contestants. His name is shouted by the ringmaster and then echoed by the audience, the bars of the Dome rattling and drowning him in noise.

But then, the crowd quietens. Jeongguk looks around and he sees someone else in the cage with him. They look much bigger than Jeongguk. The newcomer is partially hidden by the shadows and he can only see their silhouette, taller than him and wider.

He isn't worried. He already fought other contestants, even if it was before officially reaching the Dome. Violence is an exercice he has plenty of practice in.

The figure approaches and Jeongguk is surprised to see the other is actually similar in size to him. He's a young man, much like himself, tall and lean. His broad shoulders are weighted down by a strange coat made of pure black feathers and that’s the reason why he looks so much bigger. More threatening.

Jeongguk twirls the weapon in his hand. From the outside there is no information about what happens in the Dome, how it really works. It's all a mystery and so he's careful.

“Are you here for the Beast?”

The man's voice is deep, but not hostile. Jeongguk doesn't let his guard down.

“We are all here for the Beast.”

The man chuckles, hiding his mouth with a feathered arm. "Ah, isn't it true? The prize is tempting."

No one knows anything about the Dome, but not knowing the truth never stopped gossip. Jeongguk has heard stories and myths, all claiming to be true but none denying to be false.

He heard stories about some contestants that don’t die but can’t escape the cage either. Trapped inside until they decide to face the Beast again and then they either die or win.

The man is strange. His coat, his movements – he can't be a newcomer to the game like Jeongguk. He moves too confidently in the Dome, as if he's used to it. He doesn't look like someone who ever loses but the Dome is full of enigmas, full of the unexpected.

"Do you think you can win, that you can triumph? Against the Beast?"

The Beast is the biggest enigma of them all. Some say it's a dragon. Some say it's a lion. Some say it's a chimera, a snake, a ghoul, a rotten deity. The Beast is every myth that was ever narrated and it's none of them at the same time.

If Jeongguk wants to kill it, he has to get more information about it. He doesn't know what game the man is playing, but he will play with him. Let him talk, let him reveal a secret or two.

"Who are you?" he asks. They are circling each other, walking around the cage but never getting closer. The man doesn't answer at first, just stares. His feathered coat looks like a shadow following him closely, almost as if it has a mind of its own.

"I'm Taehyung," he replies, but does not reveal anything more. He guesses he's gauging him out just as Jeongguk is doing to him. Whether he's a contestant or an outsider, he is facing him to fight.

Jeongguk also heard stories about nobles asking to join the fight, too blinded by bloodlust to realize the risk. That image fits Taehyung better. A cocky noble, with clothes too refined and a stance too arrogant to be afraid of death.

"Won't you offer your name? I offered you mine."

"I'm Jeongguk."

Taehyung hums at that. They are still walking, careful to keep their focus on one another. He can hear some of the audience getting impatient. They want the fight, they want the blood.

Taehyung doesn't speak again, so Jeongguk does. "You haven't answered me. Who are you?"

He doesn't get an answer. The deep gaze stays on him and he starts to feel unnerved. He feels like he has been thrown at the feet of a hungry lion, ready to feast on him. "But I did answer. I am Taehyung."

There is something wrong. The audience is getting impatient, but it's still too silent. They don't shout their names, no, they wait. Eager for what to come but willing to stay still, because they know they are getting a show. Jeongguk swallows. His palms are getting sweaty.

"Are you a contestant?"

Taehyung laughs at that but like before, his feather covered sleeve comes up to muffle the sound. His eyes are crinkled in genuine amusement.

“A contestant? Oh no, Jeongguk.”

Taehyung smiles, closed-lipped and enigmatic, and Jeongguk doesn’t quite understand why it feels so unsettling.

Then his smile widens and this time he doesn't hide it. It becomes a grin that shows his teeth and his canines are long and sharp, just as his eyes are. There are many stories about the Beast, all different. But they all have one feature in common.

The Beast has razor-sharp teeth to tear the flesh off its enemies. Long, sharp canines. And dangerous eyes. Taehyung looks at him and his coat puffs and moves and oh, that’s not a coat, that’s something completely different.

Taehyung is something completely different. He is still smiling when he utters the next words.

“I’m not a contestant. Not at all.”

or: once there was a winged god that descended on earth. He had a son with a human and the baby was half a deity, half a monster. He is raised secluded, then he's captured and put in a cage. Forced to battle.

But he's the son of a god. And gods always loved blood sacrifices. Taehyung never knew glory, but he becomes the King of the Dome. He becomes the Beast.

Jeongguk is looking for glory and doesn't mind spilling blood, just like him.

Maybe he can keep him as his own pet. Just for a while. After all, even beasts get lonely.

#taekook #gladiator jeongguk #warrior jeongguk #beast taehyung #deity taehyung #fantasy

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fear-tear · 11 months

Text

Ten years ago, a not so funny story about me joining a Sonic Community for the first time

I should have known it wasn't a good idea.

Picture this: a "naive" young man who watched every Sonic game and every cutscene on youtube, a young man who enjoyed everything he saw, who didn't know about the people working behind it, who never saw the drastic change in character between Sonic and the Black Knight and Sonic Colors.

Ten years ago, Sonic Lost World came out.

That was the first time I ever saw Sonic showing emotions. Look at him, look at the poor hedgehog in the darkest moment of his life:

youtube

This scene right here actually made me cry. Like a freaking baby.

I was caught in a Sonic hyperfixation so severe I HAD to share my thoughts with someone else. What better place than a Sonic dedicated forum, right?

...yeah.

It was an Italian forum, so everything I'm about to quote is translated by myself the best I can.

So, I joined in for about a single day, and there was a thread named "(THE CHARACTER) Sonic the Hedgehog", and the opening post saying "What do you think about this character? What do you like or dislike about him?"

Many users said their own opinion, so I decided to share my pure genuine feelings with them. Here is my poem (a bit cringe nowadays, but I was absolutely sincere):

Only a month ago, for me Sonic was "simply" a great friend to spend time with, a hero moved by a beautiful mindset, to admire and to take example from.

But, you see, to this day I always looked at Sonic through the eyes of his friends. I put myself in the shoes of Tails, Blase, Chip. Shahra, in all those who met him and thanks to him they change their view on life for the better.

But Sonic, by himself, how is he exactly? What is in his mind? What does he do when he's all alone, in desperate situations? Does he still play the part of the brave and optimistic hero, to the point of being close to perfection?

NO.

Take his friends from him. Take his world from him. Take his reason for keep on fighting evil, take everything he LIVES FOR.

And you'll find out that Sonic is just a normal person. A person capable of experiencing human feelings. A person capable of being SAD.

I don't remember the last time I projected myself into a character like I'm doing with Sonic. I felt his loneliness, I felt his desperate desire to have someone to talk to, I cried for him.

And I realized that Sonic is, excuse me for repeating myself, a very normal person.

A person like us.

A special person.

...so. After I poured my heart and soul into this declaration of Sonic-ness, I expected at best a reply saying "nice post, it's obvious you adore Sonic!" or something like that.

But, no.

The reply I got was a flat, detatching reality check from none other than THE ADMINISTRATOR of the forum. Here it is:

If youn like the "human" side of Sonic, then forget about the videogames and go read the comics... The best of Sonic's personality is right there. SEGA has no idea how to use Sonic as a character... He almost feels nothing!

In the comic, you can see him cry, get angry, go nuts, and be an asshole.

At the end of the day, Sonic's reaction in Lost World, was already seen years ago in the Archie comics^^

Wow. What a way to welcome a newcomer in your community.

I could have accepted the suggestion better if they said "I suggest you to also check the comics", but to tell me to completely "forgot about the videogames" was kinda distasteful...

#sonic #sonic the hedgehog #sonic lost world #sonic fandom #Youtube

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green-ville · 2 years

Text

This is 13k words because I kept adding scenes from the movie. Disclaimer, I tried to make it as close to the movie as possible but I've only seen it twice. It's not entirely accurate. It is more a short story because there were just a lot of scenes I wanted to have, but for the most part, they focus on Hangman and Junior's interactions.

Songs in this work that I recommend: In The Navy and Macho Man (Village People), Surrender (Cheap Trick)

18+, minors DNI

__________________________________________________

“Its been ages since I’ve been here,” Junior observed, standing from the bike and passing her helmet to her dad.

“I bet you can say that about a lot of bars.”

“That’s uncalled for.”

He grinned at her.

They walked in together and while he took the place in, her eyes went straight to the bartender. Last she had been here she knew the bartenders on a first name basis. That had been years ago though and she expected new ones to have come.

This one was new alright. Junior knew her anyway. She elbowed her dad lightly. “2 o’clock.”

“You tryna find me a date already?. . .Oh.”

“Yeah,” she whispered, patting him on the shoulders, pushing him forward. “This is gonna be good.” It was going to be great. She sat him at the bar, taking a seat beside him, and it wasn’t long before the famed Penny was turning their way.

Her dad was still in disbelief.

Junior’s grin slipped into a smirk. “Penny, it’s good to see you again.”

“Good to see you too Junior. Still flying?”

“Haven’t crashed yet.” She crossed her fingers. “You work here?”

“I own here. A beer?”

“Please and thank you.”

A beer found its way into her hands. Junior stood, prepared to part, when a trio came in. It was a night of nostalgia, apparently, because she recognized them. She whistled at the head of the group, making it sound like a catcall.

The girl’s head whipped over, fury burning, and Junior was laughing as that fury evaporated.

“I’m sorry, I had to.”

“You haven’t changed at all Junior.”

“I like to keep consistent Phoenix.”

They met in a hug, hard pats on the back filled with love. Phoenix was dressed in her beiges, the epitome of put together whereas Junior matched a pair of shorts with a tank top. It was too hot and humid to deal with long pants when she didn’t need to.

“Payback, Fanboy, you keeping her out of trouble?” Junior asked, pulling them into their own hugs.

“Please, they get me into more trouble than I ever started.”

“Untrue,” Fanboy disclaimed. “It’s a shock we haven’t been kicked out yet. I don’t know why we were called back when it’s nothing but trouble with this one.”

“I wonder why you were called back too,” a fifth voice joined in the mix, calling over the background music.

Phoenix’s face fell already, taking on that standard, characteristic unimpressed look. She pivoted on her heel and Junior followed the group forward, taking up the rear.

The man that had spoke was tall, large, and confident. Sandy hair, blue eyes, sun kissed skin. His personality screamed open book and he didn’t mind, knowing he backed everything he presented.

“Guys, this is Bagman.”

“Hangman.”

“Whatever.”

“Phoenix, always a pleasure. I didn’t realize you had friends.”

“It makes sense you’d have trouble recognizing them. Maybe one day you’ll get your own.”

“Don’t hurt poor Coyote’s feelings,” Hangman frowned sarcastically, eyes on the two silent men in the group. “Do they speak on their own or do they need commands?”

“Do you like treats better or squeaky toys?” Junior asked.

Fanboy snorted, hand over his nose from the beer that came out of it. She smiled, Payback moving out of the way to give the other two a better view of her. She could’ve done without that, but it was her fault for speaking up.

“And who do we have – “

The doors opened just loudly for attention to be pulled away from her. They all turned, and when she spotted the newcomer, that was her turn to dip out. Her head ducked and as he made his way forward, she disappeared into the crowd on the other side of the post. She told her dad she was going for a walk and he nodded, telling her to be safe.

He was distanced. He had spotted the newcomer as well. Looks like the night wasn’t going to be what either of them thought. They didn’t know they’d spot him so soon, and he was bold. A Hawaiian shirt and aviators to contrast everyone else in their beiges.

He looked like the pictures of his dad.

Junior knew in that moment that it would be messy. Iceman was a good man, but she didn’t know if he made the right decision bringing her dad back to Top Gun. Especially with everything that had happened between him and the Bradshaw family.

“Is this seat open?”

“For you? No.”

Hangman sat in it anyway, smirking to her. “Didn’t realize I’d be seeing you here.”

“I could say the same for you.”

“I was top of my class sweetheart. I’m right where I belong.”

“I should’ve clarified; I’m surprised you’re still allowed in after what you did last night.”

“And what did I do last night?”

“I’m sure the brain in that pretty little head of yours will figure it out soon.”

Admiral Cyclone arrived, and they were silenced. He started the introduction as the shoes of her dad signaled his entrance. Leisure. Easy. Confident.

Heads turned to look behind them. Junior was the only one to never look away from the Admiral. She smirked, hearing an ‘oh shit’ sigh behind her.

The man beside her looked like he wanted to hang his head.

She leaned towards him; words quiet, grin massive. “Hang in there. I’m sure the old man is forgiving.”

He gave her a look. “Daughter?”

“I knew there was a brain in there.”

“Well if it isn’t the life of the party,” he greeted, the smirk naturally coming up to set on his face. He rested against the pool stick, muscles tight in his fitted shirt.

He had an infuriating smirk. It triggered everything inside her, though she wouldn’t admit to even half of it. He wore that smirk like he wore his uniform. It was part of his personality and it would never leave.

“Is there a mirror you’re looking at behind me?” Junior asked, leaning against Bob. She turned her head, finding the post beside her. It had a head sized mirror. She clicked her tongue. “Well lookie there.”

“I was concerned for a second,” Phoenix said. “Thought Bagman was actually complimenting someone besides himself. How stupid of me.”

“Well I wasn’t going to say anything,” he grinned to Phoenix. “I figured bottom of the class knows they’re bottom of the class in the same way top of the class recognizes they’re top of the class.”

“And I do,” Junior answered, nodding to him. “It feels good being the best of the best, thank you for acknowledging me. My life is complete with your recognition.”

His eyes sparkled. Absolutely infuriating. Her skin crawled.

“You think earlier was best of the best material? You lasted two minutes before getting shot down. Even Rooster got three.”

“I’m not surprised you’re a time guy. The quality of the flying is more important than the time flown.”

Phoenix raised her fist. Junior bumped it.

He held up his hands, chuckling in a way that had her wanting to break that pool stick over his back. “I’m a diverse man; quality and time are both important. I didn’t mention quality because there was nothing quality about it. Maybe Pops should’ve pulled your papers instead of Roosters.”

He was good. Damnit. Phoenix hadn’t been lying.

“Big talk now,” Junior began, eyes on him, never leaving him. “But that mission’s coming up real quick, and I know who dear old Pops is gonna pick.” A slow smirk came up, almost malicious in its presence. “And it looks like Hangman’s gonna be left hanging.”

She turned, the sense of accomplishment she felt immeasurable. She knew he was still watching her as she left the bar and she’d never forget the feeling of absolute victory.

The whistle was blown. Sand kicked back. Bodies rushed forward with a single goal.

Phoenix caught one of the two footballs in play and before she could be taken down, she threw it to the spot Junior would soon be. Junior snatched it from the air and side threw it to Bob. He did a poor job of hiding his surprise and was slow to run. He was tackled before getting them their point.

Junior shook her head, arms crossed over her chest as Hangman popped up from the pile of bodies with Coyote. They chest bumped as she turned away, calling her group in. They huddled, heads together.

“Hangman’s an issue,” Junior said. “We need to take him out before he can take us out.”

Halo pulled out a knife.

Concerning.

“I like the enthusiasm; let’s call that plan B.”

She put the knife away.

“We take out Hangman and we should have a clearer shot,” Rooster said. “Junior, that’s your job. Phoenix or Halo, get yourselves open. You’ll have an easier time getting around so I’m throwing to you. Everyone else, that means you’re clearing the way for them.”

“Break.”

They took up their positions. Hondo blew the whistle and they were on.

Junior made a beeline for one man, ducking and weaving under arms, and jumping in front of him, effectively breaking his line of concentration. He brought them to the ground, unable to stop himself in time and colliding with her hard. His body was against hers; hot, sweaty, covered in sand.

She rolled them over, on top of him with a smirk on her face. “Better luck next time Hangman.”

He had a smirk to match. “I’m feeling pretty lucky right now.” Behind the sunglasses, his eyes struggled to remain on her eyes.

The sports bra had been intentfully chosen. It had a nice way of pushing the girls up and he seemed to appreciate this just as much as she appreciated his lack of shirt.

She gave a singular ‘ha’ getting off of him and holding out a hand for him. She looked back, smirk deepening. “And the point is ours,” she said, turning back to face him.

The height difference. She knew several words that could describe it but the two best ones were ‘fucking shit’.

“One point now, but you’ll never make another one, because your ass is mine now baby.”

“Oh, promises promises.”

They set up again. She knew he was watching her like a hawk and she made sure to never look back. But her crouch did lower, her ass sticking out more.

The whistle was blown and she bolted, smaller figure than the built males giving her an easier time slipping through the mix. She turned, running backwards, and the football was thrown to her.

She jumped up, spotting him from a mile away. Running at her, a man on a mission. He’d tackle her the second she got the ball and she’d be hitting the ground hard, not in a run. But that was what she wanted.

Her decision was made before the play even started.

She caught the throw. His shoulder was in her gut. The air was out of her lungs, and the ball was out of her grip, thrown directly to a waving Phoenix. A quick maneuver that she was prepared for, ducking below Payback and running her way to touchdown.

Junior stood corrected. She wasn’t slammed into the ground, Hangman kept her on his shoulder.

“That’s another point for my team Hangman,” she called, twisting her head to look at the back of his. His hands were on her thighs and she was wearing shorts; it was fairly distracting.

“I believe I said you’d never make another point Junior. And uh – “

A scream shocked out of her, hands on her hips and pushing her off. Gravity took hold and she fell into water. Cold water due to the blazing sun that she’d been soaking up for well over an hour.

Her head went under and she spluttered coming up, baby hairs clinging to her forehead, short braids longer now.

“You didn’t make the point sweetheart,” he finished, smirking.

“Dick,” she said, her smartest response. She held out her hand and he made to help her up, but she yanked with all her might and brought him down with her. She knew he didn’t fall without wanting to; she was half his size and in an unstable position.

He fell anyway, and she rolled on top of him, laughing as his head went underwater.

“Junior!” Her dad called. “You coming back or what?!”

“Just a minute!”

“. . .What’re you doing?”

“Nothing – ah!”

And just like that, she was off him again, splashing beside him as he broke the surface. He inhaled deeply, head shaking to the sides and water splashing her. His hair was fluffed by the ‘air dry’, not exactly a bad look on him.

“Were you drowning Hangman?” Her dad called, a smile on his face. “Junior, this is a trust building exercise.”

“Trust me sir,” Hangman called back. “She doesn’t have the strength to hold me down.”

“Why don’t we get back to the game and see who’s strongest then?” Junior asked, standing up, offering her hand. Her shorts were wet now. She knew they were hanging a little lower, exposing more of her stomach, and he sure did take his time accepting her hand.

When he did, he grinned down at her. “Game on Junior. You’re going down.”

She led, glancing back at him to ask, “on who?” with a wink.

She was aiming for the red solid, and that was what went into the pocket. The door closed loudly for her second hit and she missed that one, almost knocking the eight ball in. Bob whistled, setting himself up for his shot.

“Junior,” Hangman greeted. “Maybe if you spent as much time in the air as you spent here you’d finally be like Pops.”

“With how many buttons you try to push you’d think one of them was ‘off’.”

He came up right beside her, keeping close as Bob took his turn.

“This isn’t me pushing buttons.” His blue eyes looked down. They met her a second later. “Not yet, at least.”

She clicked her tongue, brows high. “Extra cocky today I see. That earlier bit of flying wouldn’t have anything to do with this, would it?”

“That earlier bit of superior, impeccable flying?” He corrected, head tilted up in thoughtful consideration. “It just might. Fly high, ride high, and I’m riding very high now. So high that I’m offering my help.”

“Pray tell, what help are you offering and why would you consider it help?”

“You’re losing the game,” Hangman observed, smirk in place. “On top of being an expert fighter pilot, I’m also an expert pool player. Allow me to teach you a few things.”

There wasn’t a cockier man in existence.

She turned to him, not even a foot of space between them. Any other time she wouldn’t be so bold with herself in public (the audacity of herself to think this after the beach game), but Phoenix had pulled Bob away for something. They had the pool table to themselves for a short time.

Which is why she faced him; head angled up in contrast to his angled down. Even his eyebrow was cocked.

He had the most punchable face and she’d risk being banned from the bar just to land a solid punch on it.

“I think I’d rather have Bob teach me a few things.” His grin slid into a smirk. His cheeks dimpled. “Afterall, he is the one winning and you’re not even in the game.”

“Not even in the game? Honey, you started the game.”

She clicked her tongue, shaking her head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about Hangman. I started this game with Bob. He’s so. . .intelligent, kind, handsome.” With each word, she could see the determination setting in deeper. He smelled like gum and aftershave. An insufferable combination for an insufferable man. “Strong too.”

“Well I tick three of those,” Hangman nodded once, “let’s tick that fourth now.”

His hands were on her hips, soft but leading.

She would have jumped him right there if they weren’t out in public, and she knew he knew that too.

Her grip on the pool stick left her knuckles white. He faced her away, stepping closer yet and when she bent down, he was right over her. His arms were around her, his voice near her ear as he told her to loosen up on the stick.

“Careful now,” the words took their time coming out because any faster and they’d be hoarse. “One call from Penny and Pops is coming.”

“What could possibly be more innocent than teaching a helpless damsel a few pool tricks?”

Her hips pushed back.

“Whoops,” his breath had caught and she was failing to hide her grin as she returned to place. “Slipped. Which hole are you aiming for?”

“Either is fine for me.”

He led the hit, but she held back, and so when the ball was struck it stopped just in front of the pocket.

She was sympathetic as she stood, apology as sarcastic as his kindness. She leaned against her pool stick, perfectly at ease while everything inside of her was on fire. “Looks like you came up short Hangman. No hole tonight.” She passed the pool stick over, patting him on the side of his arm. Even relaxed it was solid muscle. “Say, Mr. Kind Guy, why don’t you finish up this game with Bob while I get some more flight time in? You know, to improve my quality.”

“Have fun Junior. Don’t miss me too much.”

“I’ll try to contain myself.”

“What is this between you and Hangman?” Phoenix asked. “Because I hate it.”

“Friendly competition.”

“Friendly?” She snorted. “I thought you were going to ride him on the pool table.”

“Exactly, friendly.”

She rolled her eyes. “And what does the Captain have to say about this?”

“The Captain has no say in my, term used loosely, love life. He does not comment on it and I don’t comment on his.”

“Whatever you say Junior. Just don’t give his ego a boost. I can hardly handle him now.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it Phoenix.”

That was where the normal stopped.

The day’s plans changed.

They attended a funeral instead.

Back at base, she waited well over an hour for him to return from a meeting. She couldn’t move from her position. One hour became two. Three.

He came home and she stood.

In the darkness, she looked at him. He was looking down.

“I don’t like that look,” she said, quiet in effort but loud in the silence.

He nodded his head once, a little smile forming. “Yeah, you won’t.”

“Don’t do anything stupid.”

“I may only be a Captain, but that’s still above your rank.”

“Give it a year,” she said, and he smiled at her, going to bed.

The next day she found out what that look in her dad’s eyes was.

Admiral Cyclone addressed them. He would be teaching them from now on. He was changing the time limit, the speed they’d be flying, the height they could fly to. He was increasing their risk of death with each decision, and she should have guessed that her dad would pull something like this.

An F-18 flashed into existence on the screen. Her dad’s voice came from the hidden speakers.

Admiral Cyclone turned. They rest of the flyers leaned forward. Junior put her head in her hands.

The time moved from 4 minutes to 2:15.

Her head never raised.

The timer stopped short, preceded by a perfect hit. Finished by a perfect execution.

She waited in a dark room again. This time her wait was shorter. An hour instead of three.

He came in and she didn’t stand. She looked at him from her seat.

He stopped. “You’re mad at me.”

“When am I not mad at you?” She asked.

“What did I do?”

“Why did Admiral Cyclone talk to you?”

“I’m no longer grounded. I’ll be leading the mission.”

“And you’re taking Payback, Fanboy, Phoenix, Bob, and who,” she asked, knowing the answer. “Rooster?”

“You don’t think it’s a good decision.”

“I don’t think either of you should be flying.”

“You’re upset about being grounded – “

At this she stood, because the very idea set off a fire inside her so deep she wanted to punch a hole in the wall. “No.” The word was ground out through tight teeth. Her fist was balled at her side. “No. Don’t you think for one second that I ever expected to fly this mission. I knew the second you were given your orders I’d be grounded, and I made my peace with it before we did our first dogfight. What I’m mad about, is your thinking.

“I get it, you care about Rooster. A part of you will always blame yourself for Goose’s death; but fucking up with Rooster now is not how you make up for it. You pulled his papers because he wasn’t ready. He may hate you but at least he’s alive to hate you. Now you’re trying to compensate by letting him go; but he’s still not ready. He’s gonna screw up and then it won’t just be one person not coming back, but the entire team.”

She breathed in through her nose. She exhaled, none of her anger leaving with it. “Do whatever you want dad, but don’t pretend for one second that Rooster is the better option over Hangman.”

She left him in the dark, restraining herself from slamming the door.

He stood there, official. Presentable. Actually looking like a teacher and not someone that wished they could avoid higher ranks.

She blocked out his beginning. How it was an honor to fly with them. He did it because he had to. He didn’t want to. He did it because his longest friend had asked him to and not because he wanted to rise up to the challenge.

He always faced challenges himself. If he took the hit, at least it was him taking the hit. Then he didn’t have to blame himself for anyone else.

When the names came, they were exactly as expected.

“Payback and Fanboy. Phoenix and Bob.”

They were great, it wasn’t a surprise.

“Rooster.”

There it was. Selfish. To right a wrong he thought he made, but he’d really only saved the idiot. He wasn’t ready then, he still wasn’t ready now. The fact that neither of them could acknowledge it was what boiled her so much.

“And leading the mission; Junior.”

She blinked.

Phoenix turned, staring at her in shock.

Junior wasn’t functioning.

There was movement next. Fist bumps. Pats on the shoulder. Nods of surprising approval.

What the fuck.

“Junior.”

She stood, making sure to not hit her head on the underbelly of her jet as she faced the Captain.

“Yes sir.”

They were the same height but carried themselves differently. He was relaxed. The lines around his eyes from laughing, not stress. The grey softly streaking in his hair. She was a tighter relaxed. On edge which was only visible by the people that knew her best.

“You’re still mad at me.”

“I only question the reasoning behind your decision, sir.”

“Only?” He smiled; her phrasing humorous to him. The smile slipped as he took a more serious tone, something as foreign to him as being told ‘yes’ the first time around. “I. . .It’s my fault that you never believed you’d fly this mission. Everyone started with equal chances and my placement as the teacher shouldn’t have led you to believe you were disqualified. My decision is not entirely based on what you said, rather the validity of your skills. Just as I know Rooster is the man for this mission, I know you’re the woman to lead it.”

He had to get the last part in there. He knew Rooster was the man for the mission.

“And Hangman, sir? What disqualified him.”

“Certainly not skill,” he disclaimed. “Hangman is a great pilot. Rooster can be a great one too and I believe this is what he needs to get there.”

Maybe there was a brain in that head of his.

She nodded to him.

He pat her on the shoulder, smiling to her one final time. “You got this Junior. We’ll go for ice cream when you come home.”

“I’m not six anymore dad.”

“I saw the ice cream you have in your fridge, don’t pretend to not still like it.”

He pinched her cheek as he stepped away and she slapped his hand, laughing. “Stop it.”

“Maybe ice creams a bad idea, have you put on weight?”

“Oh you’re one to talk! With all those push ups how could I put on weight?”

“Hey, maybe you should’ve flown better.”

“I’m kicking your ass when I get back. Respectfully, sir.”

“It’s like staring in a mirror sometimes.”

She was smiling as she turned away, and it felt like she had just finished her exterior check when she was in a shadow.

She turned, head raising to look him in the eyes.

The silence was heavy. The uniform she wore was already heavy and she was sweating a grotesque amount. Not anything she wasn’t used to, but it certainly hadn’t gotten any nicer as the years flew on.

“I’ve got your ass if you need it.”

She smirked. “I’m sure you’ll be watching it the entire time.”

“What can I say, I’m a man that likes a view.”

“How about a game of pool when I come back?”

He whistled, eyes to the sky, the blue shining. “Careful now sweetheart, kinda forward there.”

“Someone had to be and it certainly wasn’t going to be you taking charge.”

He slapped a hand against his heart. “Words hurt, dear Junior. Not as much as getting your ass kicked in pool. You’re on. Be prepared to lose.”

“I’ll have you eating your words before the nights over.”

“That’s not the only thing I’ll be eating.” He winked at her and walked off.

She couldn’t wipe the grin off her face.

There was a gag behind her and she moved around her plane, spotting Phoenix halfway up the ladder. She and Bob were looking at her.

“Were you seriously listening the entire time?”

“No,” Phoenix answered. “Most of the time. I still hate this, by the way.”

“Junior, really? Him?”

“Don’t judge me Bob and get in the jet. I’m ready to take off.”

It was hard to describe the feeling of taking off of an aircraft carrier because she still, to this day, had not found something like it. There was taking off a runway, there was taking off out a field, there was nothing like taking off a carrier.

That pull. The weight in her hands. The wind the fighter jet sliced through that never hit her, but it still felt like it could be on her. Blowing her hair back. Wiping the sweat from her face.

Dagger 3 flanked to her left.

Dagger 2 joined at her right.

Dagger 4 took the rear.

They descended below the clouds as a group, going below radar. The ocean below them was so close she could have tipped to the side and made a streak in the water. The horizon formed land. Hills. Mountains. She saw the stretch of green. She saw the snowy tops.

“Line ‘em up boys.” Junior said, mask hanging to the side, visor up. She was still in the lead, but now they were in line. Dagger 3 directly behind her, and behind Phoenix and Bob, Rooster, then Payback and Fanboy.

She nodded her head, all to herself and for nothing more. “Alrighty then. Let those birds fly Admiral.”

“Birds in the air Dagger 1.”

Well, there was no turning back now. The missiles were on their way and when the runway was blown, it would be hell. Controlled hell because they planned for this, but hell nonetheless.

So she grinned, muscles relaxing through the stress.

“Let’s rock and roll guys and gals. Nothing like a bit of easy going flying to kickstart the day.”

“Easy going,” Phoenix repeated, a chuckle in her tone. “Exactly what I call it. Let’s show the guys who’s boss Junior.”

“Yes Ma’am.”

“You show us who’s boss?” Payback laughed. “You may be lead, but we’ll school you Junior.”

“2:30 on the clock Daggers. In 3, 2, 1. Dagger 1 set.”

“Dagger 2 set.”

“Dagger 3 set.”

“Dagger 4 set.”

They were in the danger zone now.

It was exactly how they practiced. Each turn was like her skeleton was being compressed. The air struggled to come in. The sweat drenched her. Her eyes had to scan everything at once but now there were objects actually on the hills for them to locate.

“SAM 1, high up, 3 o’clock.”

“SAM 2, left side, 11 o’clock.”

Controls alerted them of 2 bogeys in the distance. Flying high, standard patrol. They weren’t seen yet.

“Rooster, talk to me.”

His response was slow. The dumbass was still thinking.

She switched sides, flipping so all her weight pressed down on the left side.

“They haven’t seen us yet. Proceed as planned.”

“Smart boy. There’s hope for you yet.”

“Rooster, we’re twenty seconds behind schedule. Speed it up a bit,” Payback said, and Junior stood corrected.

The idiot was going slow. She tried to give him a boost of confidence the only way she knew how.

“Phoenix, increase speed.”

“We’re on your tail Junior, don’t worry about us.”

She pushed forward, weaving through the hills, spotting all the SAMS that would be on their asses in less than three minutes. A party for later. A bridge popped up, and she flipped again, blowing through it and letting out a shaky laugh as she passed.

“Mind your head Phoenix.”

“Dagger 2, increase speed. You are behind schedule.”

“Dagger 1, the runway is gone. Bogeys are veering away.”

They were in the final stretch. Six more seconds and they’d be climbing the mountain.

“Dagger 2, increase speed.” Junior ordered, the mountain growing larger and larger the closer they neared.

No response.

Her anger flashed. She snapped, “Rooster, get your head out of your ass and be a pilot your dad would be proud of for once.”

And she began the ascent.

Her muscles bulged. She kept breathing, forceful exhales and tingling inhales. Black spots covered her peripheries. Snow blew behind her but she trusted Phoenix to stay on course. She trusted no one more than Phoenix to be flying directly behind her.

“Woah Rooster! Not that quick buddy!” Payback exclaimed, and as she inverted, blood rushing to her head, there was a grin on her face.

She’d be damned. Her dad was right.

“Bob, where’s my laser?”

“Working on it Junior, one more second. . .Got it!”

The alarm rang in her ears. She had a locked target. “Missiles away,” she addressed, and let them fly.

Then she pulled back, breaking the sharp descent for a mind melting ascent. She kept her head forward, forcing her eyes open, forcing breaths inside her because if she held her breath now, she’d pass out for sure and she was coming home. There’d be no one stopping her from coming home.

“We have a hit!” Bob exclaimed, and another breathy chuckle escaped her, cheeks red, energy draining.

“Miracle one’s done boys,” she addressed to Daggers 2 and 4. “Finish her up.”

“On it Dagger 1,” Rooster answered. “Heading down now.”

She broke through the mountain’s protection. The SAMS locked on her. A second later, the SAMS spotted Dagger 3.

“Smoke in the air!”

“Fanboy, where’s my laser?!”

“Somethings wrong Rooster, I need another second!”

“No good, firing blind.”

“Wait Rooster – “

“Phoenix, on your 6!”

“Missiles away.”

She released her flares, turning back around to keep an eye on Dagger 3. She wanted to look down in the mountain but that would pull her away from the more important issue at hand; the smoke in the air.

“We have a hit! Miracle number 2 is a success!”

She couldn’t help the cheer that escaped her. “Atta boy Rooster! You sure know how to prove a girl wrong.”

“You doubt me Junior?”

She let out a long, truthful laugh. “Immensely. I doubted you up to this very point.”

“Can we change your call sign to Richard?”

“We get out of here alive, I’ll consider it. Dagger 3, deploy flares.”

Then they joined the dog fight, bursting from the mountains cover. They shot into the cloudy sky, her eyes tracking them for a split second just to count that there were two planes, and then she was back on surveillance.

“Flares deployed.”

And then it was a controlled mess.

Six voices talking all at once and every voice being heard. Flashes of red and balls of fire lighting up the sky. They flew away from mountain, making their way back home, and her nerves were oozing away. It didn’t matter where she was, she knew her back was had in the same way they knew she had their backs.

She smiled despite being wrong. Her dad said he was a great pilot, and she should’ve trusted him. Rooster was finally shinning, covering his friends asses and flying without thought.

Until it landed him as a target.

“Smoke in the air Dagger 2,” Fanboy called.

“Got it.”

She caught him maneuvering, but he wasn’t deploying flares. He wasn’t getting behind it either for a missile.

“Dagger 2, deploy flares,” she ordered, wanting to look behind her because he was on her tail now, but that would land her straight into a mountain.

“I’m out!”

The alarm was in her ears. In her head like she was there. Like she was the target.

There was no thinking, just like her dad always said when he told his stories. It was action. It was second nature. When you’re up there, you think and you die. You have to do. To trust your body to know the right course of action.

And Junior didn’t have a single doubt when she pulled the same maneuver her dad had done in dog fighting to ‘kill’ Rooster. It was ironic. The same maneuver that had killed him was now the one that was going to save him.

“Well shit.”

The nose of the jet tipped up, she went perpendicular to the ground, and then Rooster was passing beneath her.

“Junior no!”

Her eyes were to the sky, her heart hammering in her chest, and she deployed her flares.

It was a nice view.

The missile was caught in her flares, but so was her jet. As her engines blew up, and as she ejected, she flew into the sky, free from the protection of her jet.

The cold air hit. It was a whirlwind. The snow covered ground came quick. She was already low to the ground from the ceiling they were flying beneath, and that put her at a disadvantage.

When she landed, it was hard, and the black spots in her peripheries won.

For like, ten seconds until she woke up.

The snow was nice on her sweaty skin. Her movements were slow. She unlocked her helmet and shoved it off her head, breathing in the brisk air.

Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit.

She rolled onto her back.

“Dad’s gonna fucking kill me,” she breathed out, eyes wide. “Oh my God what did I do. Fuck. This is why you think before you do! Oh that is such shit advice. Honestly, this is his fault. His advice, his genetics; I’m here because of him. . .”

That sounded like a helicopter.

Why did that sound like a helicopter.

There was a helicopter twenty feet off the ground, a thousand feet away. As it rounded a patch of evergreens, its nose pointed to her.

Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit. Shit.

She scrambled up, nearly toppled from her parachute. She unclipped her parachute and ran forward, helmet in hand but not on her head because it was going to help her a lot more in her hand, and not on her head.

She threw herself (not at a man, surprisingly) behind a fallen tree as the gunfire rained down. It blew off chunks of the wood then stopped, and she knew it was coming around.

Because lookie there. It had come around.

She breathed hard, staring at it. Waiting for the gunfire to start up again.

It didn’t.

A missile blew it up instead, and she watched as a familiar F-18 circled in the sky. SAMS locked on it. Smoke rose in the air. The dumbass still didn’t have any flares and it hit. Who could have seen that coming. Certainly not the idiot in the pilot’s seat.

“FUCK-ING IDIOT,” she screamed, spotting his chute as he ejected from the scraped jet.

She took off running, hating the stupid snow beneath her, hating the world, hating her stupid father and his stupid advice of ‘don’t think’. This is what happened when you don’t think!

She was another example of what happens when people don’t think!

Now was not the time for self-deprecating humor. Even if it was hilarious.

She ran through the forest, wishing he had crash landed a shorter distance away because as she was closing in on him, her energy to break her helmet over his head had depleted.

“ARE YOU OKAY?” See? She showed restraint. She didn’t call him dumbass.

“FINE, ARE YOU?”

“OH FUCKING DANDY.”

When she came up to him, she shoved him. She couldn’t help herself there. He deserved to land in the snow.

“What the hell!”

“Are you stupid?! What the hell are you doing here?!”

“I saved your ass!”

“And now we’re both fucked instead of just one of us! Didn’t think that through, did you!”

“Your dad told me not to think!”

Her dad caused every problem in her life. She was not exaggerating.

Her hands went in her hair, she puffed out, looking around. She pulled at her sweaty locks, at a loss for words.

“Well,” she began. “Fuck.”

“Any smart plan mission leader?”

“Of course I have a plan,” she snapped. “It’s just about as smart as you coming down here.”

And he agreed with her when they were laying in the snow, staring down at the blown up runway.

“The F-14,” she said, the jet covered in shadows from the untouched hanger. Smoke billowed around it, but she was free of damage, not important enough to land a hit. Men ran around the rubble, filled with purpose and working as a well-oiled machine. “I’ve never flown one before but my dad has. I figure since I’m like, 94% him anyway, it’ll come pretty easy.”

“That’s not how that works.”

She pat Rooster on the arm. “I fly planes. I don’t make Punnett squares. Let’s get going.”

She was heading down the hill before he even got up. He called her name, protesting the plan, but he didn’t have any other options, so he followed. They walked through a broken gait.

“There’re guys over there,” Rooster said.

She smiled confidently, like she belonged.

“There’re guys over there too,” Rooster continued.

“Let’s start running.”

“Yup.”

They started running, making their way to the abandoned jet with surprising ease. Then it was like her dad was with her, coaching her on what to do. She spoke to Rooster in the same way, giving him simple orders that he could follow. She climbed up the ladder, sitting in the cold seat that hadn’t been touched in months.

Good news! The engines started.

Rooster followed his tasks to perfection, joining her in the jet before she taxied out, humming to calm her nerves. She was nodding her head back and forth, a nervous movement because they were quite literally sitting ducks right now.

There was no runway. They had blown that shit to pieces.

It’s funny how things always came back to bite her in the ass.

Her hands were moving. She was trying not to think right now, like a damn hypocrite, because she was already humming to calm herself down and she was running out of ways to calm herself down!

“Junior, the wings are coming out.”

She nodded, lips popping. “The jets broken.”

“Why are the wings coming out? This isn’t a runway; this is a taxiway.”

“It’s no wonder you made it into Top Gun. That’s some expert observation right there.”

She opened a yellow and black cover. She pushed the hidden lever all the way forward.

“Don’t worry Rooster, getting home won’t be the problem.” It would most certainly be a colossal fucking problem. “My dad’ll be the bigger issue.”

And they were moving.

Gaining speed.

There was a stone archway at the end of the taxiway. She did not like how close it was getting.

She was pulling up. She was squinting, face pinching as she prepared to hit –

They were free!

They had lost their front wheel.

They were free!

“Did you ever doubt me Rooster?” She laughed, feeling like death.

“Immensely,” there was a grin on his face, she heard it. “I doubted you to this very point.”

“Get us hooked up to radio, kay? I don’t want my dad thinking I’m dead for too long; he does irrational things when he’s emotional.”

“Roger that.”

The flight was smooth for all of twenty seconds. Enemy aircraft rose to her right. A partner rose right behind it.

Rooster pointed it out, and Junior nodded, going through what she thought her dad would do.

“Masks on Rooster, visors down.” Her voice altered beneath the mask. “We’d be dead if they knew who we were.”

She waved to the person beside them.

He did a hand signal.

“What does that mean?” Rooster asked.

“Absolutely no clue.”

She knocked on her helmet, giving a thumbs down.

The man did a second signal.

“What about that?”

“Yeah, still no.”

“You know what we have to do Junior.”

“That’s not a good idea Junior.”

“It’s what Mav would do.”

“I’m not half the pilot Maverick is,” she tried another hand signal to keep stalling. “He might be able to pull off a dogfight, but I can’t.”

“You’re not half the pilot Maverick is. You’re 94% the pilot.”

A slow laugh. “That’s not how that works.”

“C’mon Junior. You really want Hangman to be top of the class again?”

Somehow he knew exactly what to say to her. A steely calm washed over her, jitteriness dissipated. Her muscles were still. Her brows set.

She turned away from the pilot beside her. The plane diagonal to them shifted behind them. They knew something was wrong.

It was now or never, and she chose now.

She flipped them, hanging over the man to their right. She slowed down and flipped again, on his ass. She fired, bullets rattling to the side, and it was a solid hit. The jet’s engines blew and they slid into a snow covered hill as Junior pulled away, shooting forward.

“Woo! There we go Junior, show me some dogfighting.”

“Get us on that radio Rooster.”

“There are 300 switches back here, I’ll need a minute.”

The jet was on her ass. It locked on them. The sound blared in her ears. She dipped to the side, Rooster called smoke in the air, and the missiles caught on one of the SAMS as she passed narrowly overhead. Then it was a dip to the left, and she dove into the weaving hills. The low height would confuse their tracking systems and hopefully get them a minute of time.

Then they started shooting regular bullets at them, not missiles.

Better. Still shit.

She pushed for more speed. Rooster called a hit.

More speed. They wove seamlessly just like when they had first entered the valley. They passed over a river. They brushed a waterfall.

Rooster called another hit.

The nose tilted up, she pulled back, and her abs had never been tighter. She shoved down, behind the jet, and fired. Fired until she saw that burst of red. She stopped, hands on the yoke as they broke free from the valley.

They passed over water, seemingly in the clear for now.

“That’s a hit! That’s some damn good dogfighting Junior! I’d even go as far as saying 97% like Maverick.”

“Ha. Ha. How’s that radio coming along?”

“I think I’ll just have to sing to compensate.”

“Please tell me you know a song other than Great Balls of Fire.”

“That’s a classic and I won’t hear otherwise.”

“Do you know how many times I heard that song growing up? I can sing it backwards. Sing something else.”

“Uh. . .well I got one.”

“Let’s hear it Rooster.”

“Where can you find pleasure, search the world for treasure, learn science technology?”

She laughed, loud, singular. “Oh Jesus. You found a song worse than Great Balls of Fire. Congratulations.”

“Where can you begin to make your dreams all come true, on the land or on the sea?”

She joined in with him, an unbreakable smile on her face. “Where can you learn to fly.

play in sports and skin dive, study oceanography? Sign up for the big band or sit in the grandstand, when your team and others meet?”

Their alarm was in their ears. Their singing stopped. Rooster searched for the jet that had locked on them, and Junior did to, heartrate spiking in surprise.

The radar popped up, and that was when she saw it.

“They’ve gotta be behind us.”

She shook her head. “They’re on our nose.”

And coming in hot.

She fired at them. There was no response. She was out of bullets. She deployed her last missile. She flipped to the side, blowing through the explosion of her last missile. She narrowly missed a head on collision with the attacker.

“I’m out of flares and missiles Rooster.”

She pushed the jet as fast as she could go, but against the fully equipped newer jet; the pilot didn’t matter. The jet was on her ass again.

It fired. No amount of maneuvering, swerving, flipping was going to get them out of it.

Rooster called another hit.

There was no other option.

“When I give the go,” her voice was sturdy, determined. “Reach above your head and pull the eject. Above your head, see it?”

“Junior, there’s gotta be –“

“When I give the go,” she ordered.

Another hit. They couldn’t handle another one.

She started to climb. The sun greeted them, bright, yellow, warmth miles away.

A nice view, just like the last time. Maybe she’d get a second chance again. She didn’t want to hope on that too much. Her heart thundered, her stomach in knots, and the anticipation was perhaps the worst part of it. Knowing the inevitable and having no more options but acceptance.

The alarm sounded.

“Eject!” She ordered.

The canopy didn’t pop off. The pilot behind her wasn’t ejecting.

“Eject!” She snapped.

“It’s not going!”

She had lied, then. Getting home was going to be a problem, and not facing her dad afterwards. There was going to be no afterwards.

They continued their climb, her head hanging in failure.

The alarm shut off, an explosion sounding from behind her.

Her head snapped up, looking around her, and another jet rose beside them.

“Good afternoon everyone, this is your savior speaking.” That cocky mother. . . “It’s a beautiful day with a high of 74 and a mild breeze. There’s a high chance for praise and admiration later today but besides that, it should be a smooth landing.”

Hangman.

“Guess you really did have my ass, huh Hangman?” She asked, removing them from the steep climb.

“I told you I’d be watching it Junior. Someone’s gotta take care of it.”

“You look good Hangman,” Rooster greeted, no blatant resentment in his tone.

“I am good Rooster,” he agreed, nodding. “I’m very good.”

“We’ll see about that,” Junior challenged, the underlying meaning heavy in her voice, jet levelling out a two hundred feet above the water.

Hangman whistled. “Careful there Junior. Let’s get you back to the carrier before you make any more challenges.”

His jet was faster, there was no questions about it. He let her take the lead, keeping close on her tail.

“I know my ass is nice but if you keep riding it I’ll charge you.”

Hangman laughed, sweeping beside them. “F-14 huh? Didn’t that runway get blown up?”

“We made do with the taxiway.”

“You’re missing your front landing gear.”

“It’s just a scratch.”

“Let’s see how you do with landing her,” Hangman finished off the conversation, and headed onward.

He reached the carrier before she did. He was already landed by the time she was shooting overhead, sending out a few orders for the barricade to come up. It was as she was finishing her turn, lining up with the landing strip, that they had left engine failure.

“Don’t tell me we have engine failure.”

“Alright,” she agreed. “I won’t tell you. . .in the navy,” she sang lightly. “Yes you can sail the seven seas. In the navy, yes you can put your mind at ease.”

He joined in, giving in to her attempts. “If you like adventure, don’t you wait to enter, the recruiting office fast. Don’t you hesitate, there is no need to wait, they’re signing up new seamen fast.”

They crash landed. The barricade caught them. Their nose was to the ground. The jolt sent a shock right up her spine and would definitely leave a bruise on her ass. As they skidded to a stop, she maintained a constant wince, waiting for something to blow up and kill them.

For a second, silence.

They were alive!

She sat back, hands leaving the yoke for the first time.

She exhaled; eyes wide. She pulled the mask from her face, breathing in the air stuck in the canopy.

“I honest to God cannot believe that worked!”

“Don’t tell me, you doubted your dad’s plan too?”

“I doubted so much shit,” she laughed, opening the canopy, standing up. “Jesus, that fucking worked.”

It was a miracle.

Standing up, she turned back to him, and gave him a hard high five. Then the screaming crowd reached them. She got down, in the mix and momentarily forgetting that her dad would be arriving to beat her ass with the finest of wooden spoons.

Phoenix threw her into a hug. Her other Daggers clapped her on the back. Her ‘savior’ put an arm around her, tilting his head down to speak to her.

“Exceptional flying, second best.”

“Why thank you, savior. I thought it was moderately decent myself.”

“One day, you may even be okay at it.”

She grinned up at him, loving that stupid smirk on his face.

And then her dad was in front of her, pulling her into a choking hug.

It surprised her. He had done a lot of surprising things lately, but the hug surprised her most of all. It wasn’t that they didn’t hug, but there was a considerable lack of yelling at her prior that caught her off guard.

And then she was held at arms length, his eyes on her, searching for any damage.

“Are you okay?” He asked, annunciating, his panic showing in ways she had never seen before.

“I’m fine dad.”

“Can you even begin to fathom how much trouble you’re in right now?” He asked, annunciating, even slower this time.

“I’d like you to reconsider because really, I just did what you taught.”

“Wrong answer.”

“You chose me to be mission leader, the decisions I made were based on what I thought the best pilot I know would do. I regret none of my actions.” She regretted so many.

“You’re grounded.”

There it was. She tried for distraction, voice raising, bringing attention to her. “Roosters hurt!” She grabbed her dad’s shoulders, steering him towards Rooster, “You should go check on him. He pulled his pinky finger being a halfway decent pilot. He said something about unbearable pain.”

“You’re grounded Junior!” He called, disappearing in the mess of people.

She turned back to Hangman. He put his arm around her shoulders again.

“Were you singing In The Navy as you landed?” Hangman asked.

She blinked at him. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

The shower she took was the best thing since sliced bread. They were back home, had been back for an hour or so. Her dad drove her home, they had had a nice long chat about ‘don’t do as I do, or as I say, do something a smart person would do’. She asked for a rain check on the ice cream. He gave her a look.

“The Hard Deck?”

“Where else?”

“With Hangman?”

“Let me guess. Rooster got the radio up and a few comments were heard?”

“The relief I felt in hearing your voice was quickly skewed by standing in the same room as Admiral Cyclone as your comments came through. Your ass was involved in many of them.”

“What can I say, it has a way of getting involved.”

“And I think I remember some comments about ‘I honest to God cannot believe that worked’. Something about you doubting my plan – “

She was laughing as she shoved his shoulder. “That was interference. Yeah, I think the frequency was hijacked or something.”

“Or something, definitely,” he said with a grin.

“You can come with me,” she offered. “Come see Penny.”

“I. . .I’m actually meeting her. We’re going on a sailing trip.”

“Were you ever planning to take me for ice cream?” She wondered.

“I was going to ask for a rain check.”

She snorted, walking past him, patting him on the way. “Have fun dad.”

“You too kid. You’ve earned it.”

She shaved. She moisturized. She put on her cute underwear. Her clothing choice for the night was a plain v neck tucked into shorts. She wasn’t about to put on a dress or shove her legs into jeans. Junior was taking the bet that she wouldn’t be wearing the clothes for long anyway. She did put on her tallest wedges however. It wouldn’t make her as tall as Hangman but hopefully now she’d at least be shoulder level.

Phoenix picked her up, grinning at her with a sparkle in her eyes.

“You’re wearing a push up bra,” she noted. “You’re not sagging like a 70-year-old anymore.”

“My girls don’t sag. You wouldn’t understand because you’ll forever be size mosquito bite.”

They looked at each other. They laughed freely as Phoenix pulled away from the house, beginning the journey to the Hard Deck.

“So what is this with Bagman? When the hell did that happen?”

“I could ask you the same thing about Rooster.”

“Me and Rooster? It’s simple. Friends with benefits. Now you and Bagman. Thought you wanted to give him an ego check, not an ego boost.”

“I owe him for saving my life Phoenix,” she took on a faux sympathetic tone. “I’d be dead if he hadn’t swooped in and saved me. It was so heroic how he shot down that plane, and then immediately asked for praise and recognition.”

They laughed again, turning the music up and singing without restraint as they drove on.

“Mommy’s alright, Daddy’s alright, they just seem a little weird. Surrender, surrender, but don’t give yourself away.”

The wind in her braided hair. The smell of salt water in her nose. The warm golden sun with the light humidity. They neared the Hard Deck, noting how it was already busy with their friends and the other regulars.

The music picked up, the refrain circling again, their voices carrying louder. The music changed as they left Phoenix’s car, entering The Hard Deck where the bar was scattered, the dart board was taken, the booths were filled, and the pool table was crowded.

Macho Man was playing. She couldn’t help but roll her eyes.

“Hangman!” She called. “You hijack the music already?”

He turned away from Coyote, smirk in place. “Junior, finally made it in. Thought you got lost again. Would’ve been a shame if I had to come and rescue you twice in one day. Maybe we should change your callsign to Damsel.”

“Rooster’s already petitioned to change it to Richard and I’m more partial to that.”

“Fitting, isn’t it?” Rooster asked, turning away from the dart board.

“I like to think of myself as a motivational speaker,” Junior corrected. “I got your ass in shape, didn’t I?”

“And we all heard it,” Hangman said. “Just like we heard you and Phoenix talking about ‘showing the guys who’s boss’ before you got your ass blown up.”

It was confirmed; Hangman was an ass guy.

“Well I needed an excuse for you to come rescue me sweety.” She came up beside him, smiling at him sweetly, and taking his pool stick. “I took pity on you. You looked so sad getting left behind.”

She was just above shoulder level. The shoes had given her some much needed height.

His smirk never died. “1 round. Set em up, I’ll get you a drink.”

“Such a gentleman.”

He walked behind her, discretely grabbing her ass and proving her previous statement wrong. It was discrete because as soon as they started talking, everyone had distinctly turned away.

She looked at them after he had gone to the bar. “I have no intention of jumping him on the pool table, people. You’re all ridiculous.”

“You’re the one screwing him with your eyes,” Phoenix responded, leaning against Rooster.

“I’m wearing sunglasses.”

“They’re not enough.”

They were all ridiculous.

She set the pool balls up. He returned with a glass for her, and they clinked together before the first shot.

It was a mess from there.

The songs, the liquor, the sly touches in order to ‘get around’ the other person, because there clearly wasn’t enough space. When she bent, her shirt hung low, his eyes always on her. Her legs looked exceptionally long when she straightened, muscles tight in the best way.

He distracted her too. The way his shirt was pulled over his shoulders. Tucked in at the waist for that clear outline of his figure. His gaze burning a hole straight to her core.

It became a chore to keep her word and not jump him on the pool table.

He called his final shot, and she didn’t look away from him as he landed it, the eight ball zipping into the pocket. He straightened, head rolling in a fluid motion to stare down at her.

“I just can’t seem to lose.”

“Confident you’ll score tonight?”

“I like my chances.”

“It’s a shame. I’m getting kinda tired and my ride’s over there playing darts.”

“Unfortunate. You find yourself stranded a lot, don’t you Junior?”

“What can I say, I like being saved by big, strong, handsome men.”

“Now you’re just sweet talking.”

“Oh no,” she clicked her tongue. “If I was sweet talking, I’d mention how I’ve got the house to myself tonight, Pops is out of town. I’d also mention the bottle I put in my fridge in case I came home with someone. And I even pulled out the matching set.”

“If only you were sweet talking then.”

“If only,” she agreed.

“I’ll close the tab.”

“I’ll find your bike.”

Phoenix raised a fist as she was on her way out. Junior permitted the bump, ignoring the rest of the looks she got. Outside, she knew his bike and leaned against it, stretching her legs out, putting her hand in her pockets and facing the now setting sun.

The rocks beneath his feet slid together with each step, alerting her of his presence. His shadow alerted her he had arrived, and she opened her eyes, grinning up at him.

“I’m surprised you found your way all on your own. I was worried you’d get lost.”

“I just looked for the bike that screamed ‘I belong to a cocky asshole’ and ended up here.”

He whistled. “Such strong language for the guy that saved your ass.”

“Forgive me?”

“Persuade me.”

“The quicker you get me home, the quicker you get me out of these clothes.”

“Persuaded.”

He got on his bike. She got on behind him, scooting closer than necessary. Her front completely pressed against his back. Her arms tight around his torso.

“Can’t wait till we get home?” That infuriating smirk was back up.

“Haven’t I waited long enough?” Her hand rubbed his torso. She could feel him clench, she could feel him chuckle when she pressed her chest against him again. “Or are you not good enough to drive with a slight distraction?”

“Back at it with those challenges Junior. Wasn’t losing pool bad enough?”

“My head wasn’t really in the game. There was this distracting man on the other side of the table that kept stealing my thoughts.”

“Thoughts, plural? Didn’t think you had it in you.”

She pressed her hand against his pants. That shut him up.

Her head came up beside his, she looked at him. “We can do this with me behind you instead, if you’d like.”

“Setting course for your house.”

The tires rolled and they were off.

Her hands never did stay in place. They breezed over hard muscle. They pressed against his pants.

Her lips pressed against his neck. Her teeth bit into his shoulder.

She whispered ideas that could quickly become reality into his ear.

They pulled into her driveway. He helped her off, holding her hand as she swung her leg off the bike. She walked ahead to the front door, key out, stride long and slow as he turned off the engine, following after her.

Junior never made it to the kitchen. Hands were on her hips, a body coming to press behind her.

She’d be lying if she said she didn’t love the feeling of him behind her. Large. Warm. Sturdy.

His head dipped low, lips against her ear. “Haven’t I waited long enough?”

It wasn’t the worst thing in the world for her words to be used against her.

His hands travelled up from her hips, holding her by the waist. In its wake, her nerves sizzled, hairs raising on her exposed arms and legs. She leaned against him, ass pressing back into him. Getting a glimpse of what was to come.

“I’d be a bad host if I didn’t offer a drink.”

“I’m sure I can find something else to drink.”

She tilted her head up and back and his lips found hers. Simple at first. Then she was turning. His tongue was in her mouth, he was holding her closer, it wasn’t close enough. Her hands were on his collar, pulling him down. One leg hooked around his hip; he got the idea and planted his hands firm on her ass, giving her a boost up.

There was a buzz in her head and electricity all over her body. Not even a third of the credit deserved to go to the alcohol.

“Hallway,” she said, pulling away, lips going to his neck. Teeth scraping rough skin. “First door, right side.”

He was moving, hands squeezing her ass tighter when she bit down on his neck.

“Never took you for a biter.”

Her door was opened.

“Gotta leave my mark so the girl you have lined up tomorrow knows I had you first.”

He ‘tsked’ her, kicking her door closed. “Who do you take me for?”

“6’3 hot guy with, hopefully, a big dick.”

He slapped her ass, knee pressing down against her bed as he leaned them over it. Her body was entirely held up by him until he put her on the mattress, his weight all on her. His lips were on her neck, kissing in the same way she had done to him, but sucking instead of biting. “Lucky you,” he said between kisses, “you get to find out.”

“Will I?” She questioned in return. “It’s taking an awful long time to get there.”

“Gotta take my time. Don’t know how often I’ll get this chance. The daughter of Maverick underneath me.”

Her fingers wove into his hair, pulling his head up from her chest. “My dad knows I’ve got my eyes set on you. You’re stuck with me now.”

He plucked away her sunglasses, setting them on her bedside table. The last bit of sunlight hit the right side of his face, showcasing his sparkling blues.

“Is that a challenge, Junior?”

“If you can handle it.” She looked down towards her hips, conveniently covered by his own. “And right now, she’s drying up. Quick, show me a picture of Rooster so I can get ready again.”

“Is that how it is Junior?”

“Well, he was the one to heroically save me from becoming swiss cheese.”

“He was the reason you almost became swiss cheese. I, on the other hand, saved you without ever having put you in danger in the first place.” His hips dug into hers, excitement searing. “Cause I’m just. That. Good.” Each word getting softer until it was a whisper, his ego drenching each syllable.

They kissed again, her legs squeezing him tight, wishing fewer clothes separated them. His hands moved from her hips to pull off her shirt, lips removed from her again to go lower. On her chest. Nipping soft skin.

Her nails scratched his scalp.

He sucked on her stomach.

Her fingers pulled sandy hair.

He reached her shorts, unbuttoning them, lips ghosting the exposed skin. Her hips raised, her shorts coming down, and he threw them off into the distance of her room.

Blue locked on her again. “They are matching.”

“And they’re my cutest set, so be gentle with them.” It was important when engaging in acts such as this to lay down the law. Cute underwear did not deserve to be caught in crossfire.

“Of course,” he nodded. “Of course.”

His fingers slipped under the sides, pulling them down. They were thrown to the side just like her shorts.

It momentarily seemed unfair that she was in such a state of undressed when he hadn’t conceded any clothing. When his mouth was on her, the thought left her head. She could wait to strip him.

His arms were underneath her raised thighs, hands pressing against her hips to keep her in place. It was natural to want to move but she couldn’t do that, he made sure of it. Her stomach stayed taut, a breath only ever half building up before it stopped.

“Finally putting that mouth of yours to good work,” she exhaled, shaky, airy. “I knew it’d be as good at this as it was with a retort.”

“I like to think they’re fairly evenly matched,” that smirk was up again. It aided in the process of getting her worked up, as if he needed any help. “But please, go on about how you knew I’d be good at this.”

Phoenix would hate her for boosting his ego but he was making her feel too good to not give a compliment.

He sucked; the breath left her lungs.

“There’s too types of cocky; the emotionally damaged cocky, and the justified cocky. And I’ve seen you in action.”

She was feeling him in action too and it did not disappoint.

Her eyes fluttered shut, forehead knitting, a flicker in her abdomen.

“There’s nothing hotter than a guy taking charge who knows what he’s doing.”

It built, and she didn’t know how he knew, but he did, because he did everything to the extremes as the orgasm shot up her nervous system, an elated rush that left her feeling unusually easy going. Her clit became too sensitive and he made no sign of wanting to stop attacking it, so she pulled at his hair, leading him back up.

She kissed him hard, tongue in his mouth this time and one leg wrapping around his waist in preparation. One arm propped him up, the other pressed her waist against his. Her head buzzed, her skin crawling, and it was a swift maneuver that surprised her in its success.

One fluid motion; she was on top.

She leaned back, grinning down at him, hands pressing against his torso. His hands rested on her bare hips, thumbs moving back and forth over the exposed, smooth skin. His callouses were a noticeable contrast, one she appreciated.

“Too slow.”

“Do you really think you could flip me without me wanting to be flipped sweetheart? I thought I already told you, I like a good view.” His gaze was every definition of sinful.

“My view’s obstructed.”

“Then do something about it.”

She rolled her eyes, pulling at his button downed shirt. It wrinkled, out of his pants now, and she took her time unbuttoning it. She scooted back the more buttons became undone, coming down and pressing soft kisses against his abs. The buttons were free and he lifted up partially to help remove the clothing. Now it was her turn to throw it to the side.

Her hands roamed free. She bit where she pleased, licking with full eye contact up his sternum until she was at his neck again. She bit there too, smiling when her bra loosened.

She leaned back, clasp on her back undone, brow raised.

Hangman was the picture of innocence. “Faulty clasp.”

“I’m sure.” She threw her bra away, eyes rolling at his cocky grin. “But I’m the impatient one,” she nodded, scooting down and away from his greedy hands. She undid his belt, unbuttoned and unzipped the slacks, and pulled down, throwing them to the side and fitting herself between strong legs.

Naturally she had been right about her earlier guess. She wasn’t about to verbalize that a second time.

She grabbed him and his length disappeared in her mouth. Her tongue pressed against him, her saliva coated him. She downed as much as she could and pushed on, eyes shut until he was all the way gone. She popped off, hands pumping him, and then down again. Her cheeks hollowed, she sucked, her teeth grazed the smallest amount.

Junior repeated. She twisted with her hands and replaced it with her mouth. She applied more pressure until her jaw hurt again, and she returned to her hands. One hand slipped lower. Her eyes lit up when he sucked in a breath, her hand gripping his balls.

She had the most wicked grin she had ever worn before. She couldn’t help herself. “Goodness gracious great balls of fire.”

He laughed, loud, clear, the sound the best thing she had ever heard before. She laughed herself, watching his head tilt back into her pillows, hands on his face. His fingers dug into his hair, the muscles on his arms bulging as he smiled at her.

“Rooster is exactly the man I want to think about as you’ve got my dick in your hands.”

“Great. You’re welcome.” She winked and went down again.

It was a combination of her hands on his balls and her hallowed cheeks that finished him off. He sputtered in her mouth, her tongue pressing against him with her swallows. She righted herself, finally letting him go and wiping her wet lips.

She swung her leg off him, standing and stretching her back muscles. There was a low whistle behind her.

“Don’t tell me, you’re done after 1 round?” He asked. “This is why you’re second best Junior.”

She turned back to him, the sight of him laying on his side, watching her, almost making her return to bed.

“I was being polite and giving you time to get hard again. While I get drinks, finish up your refractory period, kay sweetheart?”

“Does it look like I’m going through that?”

She had to break away to check. It was annoying that he was right. She turned to hide her face, walking to the door anyway. “I put the bottle in the fridge for a reason, I’m getting the damn drinks.”

His laugh was her exit music.

She pulled the bottle from the fridge, the cold hitting her and sending a chill across her. She brought out two glasses and opened the bottle there, pouring in a hefty serving. Her goal wasn’t to get so plastered she didn’t care who she was screwing, rather to maintain that buzz that added to the experience.

The bottle returned to the fridge and she returned to the bedroom. He had scoot over for her and she passed him his glass, sitting down beside him before partially laying down on her side, propped up by one arm. He was on his back, one arm behind his head, the other holding his glass. It was the arm closest to her that moved from behind his head to pull her closer.

“Oh, sorry,” she dragged out the word, moving to lay against him. “Was I not close enough?”

“Am I inside you? Then no.”

Goddamnit.

“Do I not get a drink break?”

“It’s no surprise you can’t multitask. Women do have trouble with that sort of thing.”

She snorted, almost spilling her drink. She’d hit him if she didn’t know he was saying that just to get a rise from her.

“Audacious coming from the man making me do all the work.” She sat forward, a warm, calloused hand leaving her shoulder. She swung her leg around again, only this time, she straddled his hips instead of sitting between them. She took a sip of her drink, gazes locked as she sat down, rubbing against him.

“I’m giving you your moment to shine sweetheart. I have every intention,” he was smirking, “of blowing your back out later on.”

She clenched at the very idea.

His smirk deepened. “See, it’s what gentlemen do. They give their girl a moment to shine, and you are shining right now.”

It was a combination of the compliment, and the ‘their girl’. The things those words did to her, put in her head; unspeakable. She sipped again, the cool liquid burning, adding to her buzz.

She raised up, on fire from his gaze, and guided him to her entrance. When she sunk down, one of his hands came to her hip. She rolled, circled, testing the waters.

There’d be no saying she wasn’t ready for him. He had slid right in. He filled her up like a lake filled a cup.

“God you feel good,” he whispered, thrusting up, her gasp sinful. If the grip on her hip didn’t leave bruises, then it wasn’t tight enough.

She rolled, head falling back, searing the experience into her head right now. She lifted up and fell down and that hand finally tightened, dick hitting a spot deep inside her. She repeated the move, lifting and falling, her drink swaying but not spilling.

“Watch it fucking disappear. Just like that mouth of yours did.”

His hand left her hip for a second. In that second, it did one thing; slapped her ass so hard the sound filled her room. A stinging pain was left behind that went straight to her throbbing core and she slammed harder, adding a roll of her hips. She cursed; one hand pressed against his abs to stabilize her.

“Gonna fuck you so hard you can’t get up to get another drink.” Another slap. If he ever said he wasn’t an ass man, he’d be a filthy liar.

“Is that a challenge Jake?” She gasped out; voice higher than normal.

“No,” he answered, slamming into her again, apparently a power bottom instead of a sedentary one. “That’s a promise.”

She could see his hits against her damn stomach. The fact that she didn’t cum right there was a surprise, knowing it was building and knowing she couldn’t hold on much longer. In a bold act, she paused her riding, staying at a high position and knocking back the rest of her drink. Her baby hairs stuck to her head as she reached over him, staring him down, to set her empty glass on the table.

Then she gave her legs the workout of her life. Her chest bounced. Her hips rolled. He shoved into her with all his might and there was no questioning his might now.

Her concentration was on not collapsing. She reached for one of her hands, knowing exactly what she was doing when she grabbed the now glass free hand, and held it exactly where he was hitting her.

“That’s you,” she gasped, knowing his ego was going to inflate in the most preferable way possible.

She was damn right.

He pulled her from him, pushing her to the side roughly. Her face was to the mattress and her ass was to the air. She would’ve flipped, but she knew this was exactly how he wanted her. His hands grabbed her by the hips, pulling her across the mat like she weighed nothing. His thighs pressed against hers and then he was inside her again, ramming her hard enough for the bed to shake.

His hand cracked across her ass again, the other side now. She cursed, the sound hoarse, her cheeks red from the heat. He was keeping his word, her back taking hit after hit and begging for more. Her ass shook from his thrusts and his slaps. He grabbed her several times, a greedy fistful before he slapped down.

“The guy you have lined up tomorrow’s gonna know I had you first,” he said, pulling her hips back with each of his thrusts. “It doesn’t matter what he does; you won’t be able to finish until it’s me buried inside you again.”

“I’m sure Rooster could manage 1 orgasm – fuck!”

He was railing her into the mattress, his hips brutal against her ass. He was right, she knew it then; she wouldn’t be able to get up for another drink. Her thighs were quivering, she was clenching around him. Her abs had been tight ever since they began and she had forgotten what it was like to have a full breath inside her.

He slapped her across the ass, a broken moan leaving her.

Her eyes were shut, sweat sliding up her back because her ass was higher than her head. The pillow against her face was no longer cool and refreshing and despite showering earlier, she foretold another shower in her future.

“I’m getting there,” she whined, the pitch up several notches and desperate. The pleasure was white fireworks inside her, bursting throughout her before the real deal even came, and then it came.

The sound that came from her was embarrassing. It was loud, hoarse, high. Her fists were tight in the sheets and his hands were even tighter on her hips. He rammed into her, pace never changing, until he was coming undone to.

His breathing was loud and ragged when he was pulling out of her. He gave her ass one last slap, significantly weaker than all the others, before he collapsed to her side. He made his way onto his back, hair filled with sweat and maintaining that fluffy, fucked look. His cheeks were flushed, strong chest rising with each inhale.

She slid down, weak below her waist as she turned onto her back. She was covered in sweat, her skin was blotchy from the heat, and her hairs were raised.

“You got plans tomorrow?” He asked, breathless.

“No.”

“You got plans tomorrow.”

She grinned. “What about that other girl you have lined up for tomorrow?”

“I think she’s gonna need time to recover after I finish with her.”

His words weren’t subtle.

He wasn’t done.

She let out a laugh, hand pushing her hairs out of her face. “Shit, how many more do you have in you?”

“How long do we have this house to ourselves?”

And she laughed again, wondering if she was going to get any sleep tonight.

#top gun #maverick #hangman smut #rooster #phoenix #jake seresin #bob #fanboy #payback #shortstory #pete mitchell #pete mitchell daughter

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nothing-but-haikyuu · 3 years

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Model’s Pose

Reader: F Character: Shūgo Meian Rating: E Summary: Meian loved his models. He loved to take their photograph, he loved their curves and he loved most of all to get in their pants. He had a sick fascination for watching his loyal workers’ eyes roll back in pleasure as he gave them the pleasure they needed. Warning: Model AU, Smut, Rough Sex, Breeding Kink, Minor Dark Themes/Yandere Ask Box: Open | Check Out ThreadytoGoDesign | Join me on Patreon

Meian loved his models. He loved to take their photograph, he loved their curves and he loved most of all to get in their pants. He had a sick fascination for watching his loyal workers’ eyes roll back in pleasure as he gave them the pleasure they needed.

Most fresh in the city, new to the scene, fresh meat that Meian could just bite into. He had a collection of polaroids of his beloved models in different poses and in different states of pleasure.

You were his newest fascination. New to Tokyo after living abroad, wanting to make a splash in the modelling scene and Meian was willing to take you under his wing.

“That’s great, that’s it.” He purred as he clutched onto your wrists as he fucked you from behind on his king sized bed. Your breasts rubbed against the soft bedding.

You were currently in his penthouse, fully naked with the photos he took of you at yesterday’s shoot spread around the bed. You were practically drooling on a photo of you in the latest collection from Gucci.

“Please, Shūgo.” You gasped.

“Fuck yes, get loud. Make the windows shake with your screams. Fuck you make my dick wet.” He growled. He used your arms to bounce you on his cock, keep you flushed to him as he took you from behind.

Your arms ached, your knees shook and your head swam with pleasure. You were on the eve of your second orgasm of the night. The city twinkled in front of you through the large windows that practically took up the entire wall.

“I should fuck you against the window next time, I wonder how many people would see you being fucked by me. You make me a wild man. I hate how you get into my head, I should punish you for that. You should be a good girl, not making me possessive.”

“Shūgo.” You whimpered, “Please I am a good girl.” You arched your back and your knees quaked. You tried to get out of his grasp but he was just too strong and you were becoming so weak in your pleasure.

Meian let go of you, slipped his cock out of you and flipped you onto your back. He roughly grabbed your hips and pushed his cock back into you. You instructively wrapped your legs around him and gripped the bedding now under your for leverage.

“I wanna look in your eyes as I breed you.” He growled.

“No, no. I can’t get pregnant, I have to model!” You whined.

“Oh don’t worry, I’ll take care of you. Make you a proper mommy in no time. Say goodbye to runways and hello to baby bottles.” He growled.

You whimpered and tried to pull away but he kept you close. He laughed, “Oh don’t worry. I still got the condom on. Aw, don’t cry. You’re too cute when you cry.” He rubbed his thumb against your eye, “Poor, poor baby. Don’t worry, if I wanted to make you a maternity model, I would’ve done it already. But don’t get any ideas about leaving. You’ve made me this way and I’m not letting you go.”

“yes, sir.” You gasped.

“Good girl. I don’t know why it took so long for me to find you. You knew a much crueler man would’ve swooped in if it wasn’t for me.” He groaned as he continued to fuck you roughly, “I tke good care of me girls, but especially you. You’re mine.”

“Yes.”

“Tell me.”

“I’m yours, Shūgo. Please, please I’m yours!” You gasped.

He threw his head back and roughly fucked you as he achieved his climax at the same time as you. He gripped your hips enough to leave bruises by morning. You loudly moaned while he panted and grunted through his climax. He spilled himself into the condom he wore, oh how he wished for one to to just finished inside you.

He brought his head forward and looked down at you. You were surrounded by beautiful photos, your face was sweaty and flushed. Your chest rapidly rose and fell. You hair matted to your forehead.

Your body was littered with hickies he let before. You looked like a slut, but you were Meian’s slut. As he started to slow down to a stop, he smirked to himself. He was proud how he turned you from an innocent newcomer to a proper slut. Usually he disposed of the girls once he changed them, but he was keeping you.

After all, he was going to be the one to impregnate you. There was no question about that. He slipped out and looked at his spent cock in the latex, he wonder briefly if you’d notice if next time he poked holes in it. But shook the thought off.

He looked at you, saw the pleasure in your eyes. He reached out and cupped your face and kissed your forehead, “Want to go again, the night is still young.”

You exhaled deeply, “Please Shūgo. Make me cum again.”

“Of course. Let me swap out the condoms and we’ll be good to go. I want you to ruin all these proofs with our fucking.” He said slyly, “I should burn them next time, I hate how other men look at your body on set. But you’re mine right?”

“I am.” You said with an innocent edge. So pure, so perfect. He guess he had to ruin you even more.

#meian x reader #shugo meian #shūgo meian #msby black jackal #haikyuu smut #haikyuu thirsts #model au #haikyuu #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x me #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #meian smut #meian supremacy #shugo meian x reader

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xamaxenta · 2 years

Text

Princes Ace and Luffy but they both hate everything about it, except Ace cleans up extremely well when he wants to

🙏🏽 arranged marriage between the Gol kingdom and the Newgate kingdom and the intial impressions were,,, dodgy considering Ace was dressed as a servant boy, covered in mud (roughhousing with Luffy, also dressed as a servants boy), dragging a giant river fish between himself and Luffy with his faithful hunting wolfdog Striker trotting behind with a full coat of mud masking her tricolour fur

Queen Rouge gives them both a look because waiting for her sons to come back whilst entertaining their to be allies herself was not polite at all, her husband Roger was out on a hunting trip looking to bring home big game to fill their celebration banquet with

the two princes track dirt and water and blood all across the palace to the hearing chambers where their esteemed guests await and Ace straight up declines the moment he sees the man waiting for him, he doesn’t wanna get married, especially not to the big old guy with the croissant moustache!!!

King Newgate realising Ace thought it was he who he would be betrothed to almost shatters the walls with his earthshaking laughter because absolutely NOT, asks the squire beside him where Marco has run off to

And the Squire (Haruta) informs their liege that Marco had become quite attached to the tapestry work around the halls and would be joining shortly… maybe…

Prince Marco’s tardiness already eases Ace’s opinions of him, if their guest was later than him then his mom won’t be too mad at him… if the look on her usually sweet face is anything to go by maybe he will survive the scolding later

then Marco arrives, windswept, handsome, equally dressed down in plain riding gear and before Ace can call Striker to heel, his muddy hound has launched herself at the newcomer, whippish tail wagging a mile a minute and Rouge watches in appalled horror as Marco is promptly taken down by large dirty canine

What a disaster, hikes up her skirts and storms across the hall to hiss at Luffy to stop laughing please, she needs to know how he escaped from the watchful eye of Dadan immediately! But she supposes her first son had a hand in his escape

Ace rescuing Marco from his overexcited dog, grabbing her by the collar and dragging her off bodily from the poor man beneath her and he just… freezes because Marco beams up at him from the tiled floor, his face may be shiny with dog spittle and his hair may have been licked into wet curls but he doesn’t seem too upset by the surprise attack

“I’m so sorry—!” Ace stammers out, more for his mother’s ears than his own willingness to apologise. Striker whines and squirms against her master’s hold when Marco props himself up onto his elbows, clearly reading his movement as more cues to play.

“Don’t be, she’s lovely.” Marco reaches out to scritch the pup behind her brown mud caked ear.

“Oh. Um. Thanks?” Ace glances over his shoulder to see his mother jut her chin at him threateningly, Luffy hides around her skirts, slouching from the weight of the fish in his arms.

“What’s her breed? I’ve never seen proportions like this.”

“She’s a wolfdog.” Ace mumbles, his chest constricting in guilt and confusion, unsure of why this would matter. Why Marco hadn’t yelled at him yet, why he wasn’t upset

“Fascinating, a wolfdog,” Marco murmurs scrubbing his knuckles beneath the wolfdog’s chin, drawing a low rumbly croon from her throat and thus his attention to the nametag dangling from her collar, “—Hello Striker, I’m Marco, would you mind introducing me to your owner?”

Licking her jaws, Striker shoves her nose into Marco’s palm in response, her ticklish whiskery muzzle drawing a soft laugh in response.

“Ace.” Sensing some kind of cue Ace answers instead, flustered at how kind Marco seemed to be.

“Ace?” Marco queries politely and Ace wants to look away, but out of spite and too much curiosity maintains their weird little staring contest, noting that Marco’s eyes were a very deep blue in colour.

“That’s me.” Ace affirms, mentally slaps himself for making this so awkward, so he tugs on Striker’s collar and whistle clicks for her to stand down. Thankfully after her boisterous greeting, the wolfdog seems far more willing to obey, “—sorry again about her, I dunno why she wanted to jump you like that,”

“Don’t worry about it, she just came home from hunting right?” Marco glances around them at Luffy who has buised himself with securing his grip inside the fish’s gills

“Yeah but that’s still no excuse.” Ace argues back, half heartedly because Marco was correct, the lasting adrenaline had Striker eager to pounce on the next new moving thing.

“Water under the bridge, Ace. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” Marco smiles warmly at the younger Prince.

and there was no handshake, no bows, no courtly mannerisms or proprietary to be had when Ace first met and fell in love with his future husband (much to Rouge’s dismay but later was relieved to find out that King Newgate didn’t mind the chaotic introductions one bit)

#marcoace fantasy au #:’3 i love them your honour #Ace’s rambunctious dog jumps on and lays flat Marco who was late to the party anywy #marco being so nice and genuine and disregarding of propriety is what had Ace crushing hard!!!#i kiss them both between my hands 😭🥺🥺#basically Marco is every bit the adventurous wildhearted man Ace is :3c #so!!! they can go wrestle in the mud together and no one can tell them they cant skdhdh #long post sorry #also Marco when he sees Ace cleaned up? dressed modestly in a finer tunic and vest etc??? instant realisation that Ace is gorgeous

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lazysublimeengineer · 3 years

Text

of glamorous appearances and intrigues

Summary: One shot sequel to Umbrella Man.

Everyone is here for the infamous Takemichi Hanagaki.

And enticing him to join in their own gang has proven to be difficult than they initially thought.

Characters: Senju K., Takemichi H. & I. Wakasa

Draken watched warily the surroundings around them. His face and stomach still hurt like fucking hell after he was punched like a sack of potatoes by that bastard Terano. Nevertheless, that was the least of his worries and his major concern now was the nervous, scrawny blond beside him as every gang leader present here wanted to swoop Takemichi right away into their gang once they managed to convince him to join their team.

Fuck, their crybaby hero was always a magnet for trouble and dangerous people.

He can’t even imagine the clusterfuck that they’ll have to face if Mikey and his gang arrives here all of a sudden.

The tension has gotten too thick now that one could sliced it with a bread knife once the gang leader of Brahman and the top 2 of the three deities, Kawaragi Senju, has arrived here with a dramatic entrance of landing a solid kick to the face of Terano after distracting him of his flying umbrella.

Served him right. That fucking bastard.

Draken glanced at Takemichi with a neutral expression on his face. The poor boy was getting more nervous and bewildered by the events unfolding in front of him. He needed to remind him to keep his shit together and refrain from making any sudden, impulsive decisions that he may predictably regret in the end. However, before he could even speak to him, a loud smacking sound into the ground had caught his attention and his eyes landed on Shion being plummeted by a severe punch of another newcomer that made Draken instantly cautious and alert.

“You’re a disgrace to Black Dragon! So, cut that shit already!” The man yelled ferociously to Shion who was sporting a chin strap style beard.

Draken could see that Takemichi flinched from the corner of his eyes.

“That’s Benkei-kun, from the First Gen.” Inui’s stated calmly and he stored it from the back of his mind.

Well, they’re in deep shit. And it doesn’t really help that the added unwanted guests who kept coming into this fray made his hackles rose.

Draken guessed that he had no choice but to fight their way out of this one. A wide grin crossed his features and readied his body into a fighting stance.

“Its been a while since this engine has gotten heated up! Let’s get this party started!”

Takemichi blinked a few times as he stared at Senju who already stood up to his full height while holding his umbrella calmly and stared at Terano with a blank expression on his face.

“Hold on. This little guy…Is Brahman’s boss?” Takemichi mumbled to himself, a slight look of disbelief and confusion marring his youthful features.

Takemichi knew that he shouldn’t judge a book by its cover and underestimate the people around him. He already learned it the hard way from his past experiences. Nevertheless, it still took him by surprise sometimes on how could a small and young-looking person could pack a certain punch to his knuckles and deliver a roundhouse kick that would send them into a fitful sleep.

It made Takemichi wary yet intrigued by this innocent looking gang leader of the Brahman. He surmised that his deep-seated eyes and ingenuous features had somewhat landed him in being underestimated by the other gangsters who doesn’t know what he’s capable of.

Just like with Shion who was now questioning his presence and capabilities.

But before he could even mull about it for any longer, his attention was fully caught when someone just socked Shion directly into his face that made him fall down like a ragdoll into the ground. The newcomer made him flinched and grimaced in an instant as he looked at them with wide eyes.

“Senju! Brahman is not here today to brawl! Our objective is Hanagaki Takemichi!” The man berated Senju harshly.

“You’re so loud Benkei.” Senju replied dispassionately, unaffected by the man’s infuriating voice directed at him.

“Oh yeah! I’ve completely forgotten it too! They’re here to scout me…But why?” Takemichi tried to rattle every possibility inside his brain for a reason why most of them wanted to recruit him to their own gang suddenly.

“If Takemichi wishes to return to the world of delinquency…He belongs to us, Rokuhara Tandai!” Kakucho announced firmly after he landed a solid punch to Benkei and sent him flying into the corner.

“Kaku-chan!” Takemichi exclaimed in disbelief as his thoughts were cut off by his sudden action and bold announcement.

“Right Takemichi?” Kakucho looked at him square in the eye.

“Uh! Um…” Takemichi replied intelligently. His face was bewildered yet conflicted at the same time.

Does he really need to choose here? Right now? But how could he know if he made the right decision of accepting an offer from one of these gangs? Won’t he regret it in the end?

Takemichi could feel his mind was about to explode from the onslaught of rapid thoughts and information. Quick decision making was never his strong suit and he can probably make a goddamn mistake again from the pressure of this tense situation.

Senju was quiet and was still sporting an unflappable expression on his face despite the bold attack and claims of Kakucho. But his eyes narrowed imperceptibly and his grip tightened on his umbrella. A slight dislike wormed its way to his very being as he watched Kakucho tried to convinced Takemichi to join them by putting him on the spot. He could sensed the waves of conflicting emotions radiating off Takemichi as he tried and failed to give a proper response.

At times like this, they also had to draw out their trump card to neutralize the situation and gain Takemichi’s hand and favor. He wouldn’t let the other gangs swept Takemichi off of his feet and win him over. He’d have to play every trick on this game to outsmart them and win this blond who possessed those electrifying blue eyes which could be their weapon against them. Senju gave a subtle glance to Akashi to which the latter understood and signaled for their top executive to enter the scene.

“This gets the blood pumping, doesn’t it, Waka?” Akashi stated with a lazy grin on his face.

“No, it doesn’t.” A young man suddenly appeared behind Kakucho which made him surprised and fell backwards.

“When did you—?”

“If I cared enough, this guy wouldn’t be standing alive.” Wakasa cut him off with a bored look etched into his face.

‘These monsters come out one after another!’ Takemichi thought incredulously.

“Hey! Don’t just appear glamorously out of nowhere Waka!” Benkei yelled furiously.

“I’m just following Senju’s orders.” Wakasa replied nonchalantly.

A series of murmurs and mutterings then erupted from the other gangsters who were also bystanders from the corners.

Nevertheless, Wakasa tuned them out as his disinterested gaze landed on the infamous Hanagaki Takemichi.

So, this was the one huh?

The notorious morale weapon of the Touman gang in the past.

There was nothing exceptional to this man and he possessed a face that he could probably forget after 2 days of meeting him. Nevertheless, despite his scrawny appearance and the fearful stance in front of them, Takemichi’s eyes caught him the most. It was the shade of a perfect blue that reminds of peaceful skies in the Spring. It’s also expressive and open that he could read every emotion and obvious thought from them. He gleaned that Takemichi was an honest and sincere type of guy.

A refreshing breathe of fresh air into their world that’s full of ragtag delinquents and decrepit liars.

Wakasa casually made his way towards the scrawny blond and crossed his personal space, staring at him intently in the eye.

“Hanagaki Takemichi. We’re here to scout you. Join us, will you?” Wakasa stated in a detached voice as he continued to study the multitude of expressions that flit across his face from his statement alone.

Takemichi stepped backwards, taken aback by Wakasa’s sudden proximity around him and his intense stare. He swallowed thickly as he looked back at him hesitantly. The top executive was sporting a bland yet expectant look on his face as if waiting for his confirmation to join them instead. His long, ponytailed locks that have some streaks of highlights reminded him of Kazutora’s style and his dead yet intense stare reminded him of Sanzu.

A shiver ran down his spine.

He just oozes danger and trouble yet Takemichi can’t tear his eyes away from him as if he was briefly captivated by those intense eyes that was boring right into his soul.

An imperceptible sigh broke him out of his strange trance and he turned his attention to Senju who was looking at them with an indifferent expression on his face.

Senju pursed his lips as his line of sight caught Wakasa invading the personal space of the blond, a flare of annoyance started to creeped into his veins before he inwardly sighs and clamped it down.

Now was not the right time to pay attention to these odd yet irritating sensations that were engulfing his brain.

“Don’t scare him like that Waka. Our main goal is to scout Takemichi.” Senju stated bluntly.

Wakasa stepped away from him. But his gaze lingered on Takemichi for a few seconds before he trained his attention to Senju. “Right. I understand. Sorry if I’m coming out too strong for you Takemichi.”

Takemichi chuckled nervously before he stepped beside Inui, trying to calm down his stuttering heart.

What the hell was happening to him?

“Hanagaki. Those are the living legends. Waka and Benkei. They’re the best duo from the 1st Gen Black Dragon! And then, 1stGen Vice President, “The God of War” Akashi Takeomi. This is…The founding members of 1st Gen Black Dragon.” Inui informed him calmly.

Takemichi absorbed Inui’s words, digesting them inside his head. So, this was the generation led by Mikey’s brother, Shinichiro Sano. And now, these living legends were being led by the mysterious deity in front of them and was coined the “Unmatched Kawaragi Senju.”

With Senju leading these men in the front, it already gave him an idea of how immensely powerful this enigmatic man in front of him. And it made his curiosity peaked around—

“What the hell are you guys hyping each other for?”

Draken’s loud voice cut off his wandering thoughts and looked at him with a befuddled expression on his face.

“Should we continue where we left off?”

Before Takemichi can get a word in, Draken was was already challenging Terano again to a fist fight and cracking his knuckles, a vicious grin was present on his face.

“W-what is going on now?” Takemichi stammered as he could feel his soul leave out of his body.

Were they seriously going to fight now?!

Meanwhile, Wakasa and Senju watched Takemichi from afar, his anxious flailing made them amuse and fascinated.

They both know that getting this blond into their gang would make things more interesting and they’ll make sure to win him over to their team by any means necessary.

(A/N: I don’t own any of these characters from the franchise. Only this insane fic of mine. Apologies in advance if some of them are OOC especially the new ones as I tried to make them in character. Wakasa only appeared in the few panels of the manga but I tried to connect his characterization basing from his few dialogues and behavior to this fic of mine. This was inspired by the events of chapter 213 of the manga. Chapter 213 was funny and wild. The boys are fighting over Takemichi and wants a piece of him. And ofc. The glamorous appearance of the cool yet distant Wakasa has haunted my shipping ass and couldn’t resist adding him to Takemichi’s harem. So, what’s the appropriate ship name for this newborn ship? Wakamichi or Wakatake? Or you have something cooler ship name in mind? Let me know your thoughts in the comment section.)

#recruiting takemichi hours has begun #sentake #wakamichi or wakatake #you decide #spoilers #manga spoilers for chapter 213 #ambiguous relationship #character study #draken has enough of their shit #chapter 213 is equivalent to takemichi's harem #everybody wants a piece of takemichi #fanfiction #tokyo revengers #takemichi hanagaki #imaushi wakasa #senju kawaragi #takemitchy #senju #wakasa

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fruitcoops · 4 years

Note

OMG CAN YOU WRITE ABOUT COOPS SURPRISING JULIAN ON HIS BIRTHDAY? LIKE TELLING HIM THAT THEY ARE SORRY THAY CANT MAKE IT TO HIS PARTY CAUSE THEYRE SUPER BUSY BUT ACTUALLY FLYING TO WISCONSIN WITHOUT HIM KNOWING?? AND ALL OF JULIANS FRIENDS TOTALLY FANGIRLING OVER THEM??

This highkey might be one of my favorite fics I’ve ever written. I adore Julian (as you could probably tell from my header) and it’s always wonderful when I can fit him in! SW credit goes to @lumosinlove <3

It was his birthday, and Jules was…well, honestly, kind of bummed. The string of his party hat itched the underside of his chin and he picked at his cake—his mother had made it the night before, and he had been looking forward to it all day. Now, though, it just tasted bitter.

His friends skated around with bright smiles and loud laughter, racing each other around the ice with reckless abandon in some weird version of tag that looked pretty lame. Jules had really tried to have fun, but the disappointment was crushing him.

Sorry, buddy, but we’ve got a game, Remus had said over the phone three days prior. We’ll come and see you as soon as we can, though, okay?

And Jules had said ‘okay, love you’ even though he wanted to cry a little, because he was eleven and that made him a grownup. Remus had never missed his birthday before.

A heavy hand squeezed his shoulder and he looked up from his paper plate. “Hey, kiddo, why aren’t you out on the ice?” his dad asked. He was smiling, but Jules could see the concern on his face.

He shrugged and pulled his hat off. “Takin’ a break. My legs were getting tired.”

It was a lie, and a poor one, but the bummer clouds were getting thicker and his birthday cake was tacky in his mouth. “Eleven’s a big one,” his dad tried again, sitting next to him on the bench.

“Yeah.”

“And all your friends are here.”

“Yeah. I don’t want to kill their mood, but…” He pressed his lips together and licked more frosting off his fork. It was chocolate; Remus would have loved it.

“Tell you what: I’ll tell people we’re having a second round of cake, and you can help me cut it instead of sitting here all by yourself, okay? That way nobody will get bummed out.”

“Thanks, Dad.” Jules pulled his feet out of his skates and wandered over to the table with his plate, sniffling a little.

“Hey, baby,” his mom said, giving him a quick side hug. “Are you okay?”

“I miss Re.” His voice wobbled and he cleared his throat. “But he’s got a game, so—”

“He sounds like a real loser, actually,” a new voice said drily behind him. Jules froze. “I mean, not showing up to his little brother’s birthday party? Yikes.”

“Next time you see him, you should kick him in the shin,” someone else added. There was a light smacking sound and a quiet laugh.

Jules slowly turned around.

Remus’ skates hung loose from his hand as he leaned against the wall, casual as you please; next to him, Sirius was barely hiding a smile. He raised an eyebrow when Jules looked at him. “Oh, hey, Jules. Fancy seeing you here.”

“Remus,” his mother scolded, though she didn’t sound very upset at all. “You could’ve said hello like a normal person.”

“You came,” Jules blurted, still in shock. Whispers were starting to spread out on the ice. “But—but you—you came out for my birthday?”

Remus gave him his most annoying big-brother look. “Duh.”

Jules was running before his brain even caught up and he flung himself at Remus, who dropped his skates and hoisted him into the air for a tight hug. “You came,” he repeated, suddenly close to tears as he wrapped all his limbs around his brother.

“Of course I came,” Remus said quietly, holding him just as close. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“I thought you had a game,” Jules sniffled, pulling back to get a good look at his face. It didn’t seem real.

“I had to make it a surprise somehow, right?” Jules punched him in the arm. “Ow!”

“I was upset!”

“Surprise?”

“Sirius, will you be my new brother?”

Sirius snorted. “Sure, Jules, that sounds great.”

“We came all the way out here just for you to replace me?” Remus asked with fake indignance, tickling Jules’ sides. “You little rat!”

“I hate you!” Jules laughed, wiggling out of his hold. Most of his friends had gathered at the boards in a clump of shock and awe—he puffed his chest out a little. Hell yeah, that’s my older brother. “Everyone, this is my brother Remus and his fiancé.”

“That’s Sirius Black,” Devin whispered, his voice cracking. Sirius waved and his jaw dropped. “Jules, that’s the Sirius Black.”

“Cool, right?” Remus flicked his ear lightly, and he stepped on his foot. “Oh, and there’s more cake if anyone wants it.”

The rest of the cake remained untouched as ten kids mobbed the newcomers; Jules perched on his bench and laced up again, grabbing his stick and sliding onto the ice once more with a smile so wide it made his cheeks hurt. Remus ditched Sirius to get his own skates on and quickly joined him, passing a spare puck over with ease.

“I didn’t think you’d come,” Jules said after a minute of short passes.

Remus’ face fell a little, all previous teasing gone. “I’ve never missed your birthday, buddy.”

“Well, yeah, but you said you had a game.” He shrugged with one shoulder and poked Remus in the thigh as he passed. “Your job kinda needs you there—”

“Jules.” He stopped short as something tugged his jersey; Remus pulled him around gently, already crouching down to his level. He looked serious in a way Jules didn’t see very often. “Hockey is never going to be more important than you, okay?”

“Okay.”

Remus gave him a look. “I need you to believe me on this one.”

“It’s your job, Re.”

“I don’t give a shit—” He wrinkled his nose in instant regret. “Don’t tell mom I said that. My job takes second priority over family. Your birthday is important to me. You are way more important to me.”

Jules’ lower lip trembled. “Okay.”

“C’mere.” Remus pulled him in for another hug and Jules scooted as close as he could. “I love you so much, Jules.”

“Love you, too, Re.”

“I’m really, really sorry for making you think I wouldn’t be here.”

“It’s alright, I’m over it. The surprise was cool as f—ow!”

Remus rolled his eyes as Jules rubbed his wounded ear. “Watch your language.”

“Fine, mom.” They pulled apart and Jules pretended not to see the dampness of Remus’ cheek that he quickly swiped away. Sirius was looking a little distressed under the onslaught of questions and gave Remus a pleading look from the bench. “I think he needs help.”

“Nah, he’s fine.” Remus grinned and blew him a kiss. Sirius pointed to something across the rink, then flipped him off as soon as Jules’ friends looked away.

Jules doubled over in laughter until a puck hit the back of his skates and nearly toppled him. He whipped around, but Remus was already skating backwards with an irritating little smile on his face. “What was that for?”

“Rule number one of hockey: don’t get distracted.”

“You little—” Jules suppressed a scream as Remus took off in the other direction, laughing at his frustration. “You can’t be mean to me on my birthday!”

“If you catch me, I’ll play goalie!” Remus called back.

Being a smart and innovative eleven-year-old, Jules found a loophole. It only took five minutes of all his friends—plus Sirius—getting in Remus’ way for him to catch up and hit the back of his knees with his stick. “I hope you brought your mouthguard,” Jules panted as they laid side-by-side on the ice, both out of breath.

Remus dissolved into laughter, and Jules wasn’t far behind. Best birthday ever, he thought as Remus clambered to his feet and headed toward the goal posts.

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miss-ingno · 3 years

Text

Taken A Turn

Fandom: Guardian (镇魂) Rating: G Ship: Zhu Hong & Li Qian Words: 3.5k Tags: Vampire AU, vampire!Zhu Hong, fledgling!Li Qian, female friendship, family dynamics, worldbuilding

Summary: A new fledgling joins the flock. Zhu Hong takes charge of welcoming the newcomer.

For @guardianbingo‘s March prompt: Women and gnc characters

Read here on Ao3.

***

Zhu Hong was lying on her stomach on the floor, paging through a fashion magazine, when Shen Wei returned. She could feel his presence in the back of her mind, a slightly cold pressure that shivered down her spine before she adjusted. Flipping a page, she wouldn't have given it any further thought, if not for the whisper curling around her ear:

"Attend me."

Zhu Hong was on her feet and out of her room before her brain caught up, her bare toes sinking into the plush carpet of the stairs mere seconds later. Chu Shuzhi, the overachiever, arrived ahead of her, already falling to one knee in the front hall. Crossing her arms, Zhu Hong forced her body to slow down, leaning against the railing to survey the scene.

Shen Wei stood in the middle of the foyer, his perfectly tailored suit torn at the sleeve and splattered with dried blood. Knowing how powerful the head of their flock was, Zhu Hong felt her stomach swoop in trepidation. Next to him stood a petite woman, red eyes wide and blouse in even worse tatters, blood and gore sticking to the revealed skin. Her fangs poked over her lower lip, and Zhu Hong frowned at the lack of control. Emotional or very, very young, she concluded.

The rest of the household gathered along the edges, no one daring to step as close as Chu Shuzhi. Old Butler Wu lingered in the archway towards the kitchen, and a handful of Snake clan boys stood in the doorway to the basement. The rest of the flock had yet to return from their tasks, but that wasn’t anything unusual, Shen Wei kept a rather loose grip on his inner court.

"You called, Daren?" Chu Shuzhi spoke up first, head bowed.

"This newly turned fledgling is Li Qian. She will be joining us," Shen Wei announced.

A murmur went through the Snake boys, and Zhu Hong sent them a withering glare in reprimand as they jostled each other and commented on her shimei's good looks. As if they couldn't see the poor thing was still traumatized by the events of the night. They quieted down immediately, cowed by her wrath. Shen Wei met her eyes in acknowledgement, inclining his head. Zhu Hong preened, flushing with warmth from the silent praise, before schooling her face. She wasn't some fledgling anymore, she could at least pretend at more dignity.

Shen Wei turned to his new fledgling, his cold expression softening, and laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Li Qian, this is your dashixiong, Chu Shuzhi. If you have any questions and I'm not here, you can ask him."

"Daren," Chu Shuzhi acknowledged the command, bowing his head low before rising and nodding at the fledgling, who gave him a hesitant smile.

Zhu Hong pursed her lips, observing how the young woman practically clung to their leader. Some of it couldn't be helped, the instinctual draw of her sire pulling her in. And yet Zhu Hong got the impression that she felt uncomfortable in this situation. And no wonder! Everything had just changed for her tonight, and now she was surrounded by strangers and covered in who knew what. Well, Zhu Hong could change at least one of those things.

Tossing her head back, Zhu Hong stalked down the stairway.

"Or you can come to me," she offered graciously. Once at the bottom of the stairs, Zhu Hong held out her hands for the young woman. "Hong-jie will take good care of you, little sister." Wrinkling her nose, the odor of dried gore strong this close up, she added, "First, a shower is in order."

Li Qian glanced at Shen Wei, checking in with her sire, before warily meeting Zhu Hong's gaze. Zhu Hong felt her eyes flash red, control slipping for but a moment when met with Li Qian's crimson stare. It felt like a challenge. She knew better, though, wrangling her instincts and bundling them away. Of course a freshly turned fledgling had yet to learn control.

"I will leave her in your care while I attend to business," Shen Wei declared, inclining his head towards her. He squeezed his fledgling's shoulder in reassurance. "Be good. Find me once you've cleaned up."

Li Qian bit her lip but nodded in agreement. Hesitantly, she took Zhu Hong’s outstretched hand. Zhu Hong gave her the most friendly, reassuring smile she could muster. It wasn’t something she practiced often, and she wasn’t quite sure it was working, but Li Qian didn’t flee so there was that.

Shen Wei patted his fledgling’s shoulder once more, before turning away. “Chu Shuzhi, with me. Everyone else, dismissed.”

At his word, everyone scattered, leaving Zhu Hong alone with the nervous fledgling. Zhu Hong looked her up and down with a critical eye. They were close enough in height and stature that Zhu Hong should find something suitable for Li Qian in her closet.

"We need to go shopping," she announced aloud, curling her fingers around Li Qian's wrist and tugging her up the stairs. "How's your living situation? Roommates, family?"

"I live in the student dorms." Li Qian stumbled on the first step, then caught herself. "But, um. My grandmother…"

She trailed off, and Zhu Hong gave her a curious look. With no more information forthcoming, she shrugged, deciding against prying. She couldn't remember her own first weeks after turning clearly, but she recalled feeling rather disoriented. And judging from the state of her clothes, Li Qian hadn't chosen to become a vampire—not that Shen Wei would turn someone without their consent, but it spoke of dire circumstances.

"Jia Feng!" she called out instead, and a second later one of the snake boys ran up the stairs, steps swift and soundless. To a human, it looked like he appeared out of thin air. He dropped to his knee in an imitation of Chu Shuzhi’s excessive shows of respect and fealty.

“You called, Princess?”

Zhu Hong wrinkled her nose at the title and waved for him to stand. “Go take some of the boys and go to the university’s student dorms. Bag Li Qian’s stuff and bring it here.”

She turned to Li Qian with her version of a friendly smile. “Just tell Jia-ge which room, he’ll grab your things.”

Li Qian’s gaze darted between them nervously, but she did manage to stammer out a room number. “I-it’s… I have several roommates, how will you be able to tell which are my things?”

“Easy,” Jia Feng drawled with a smirk and a wink. Frowning in concentration, his eyes flashed red and his tongue darted out, thin and forked like a snake’s. He tasted the air, and Li Qian flinched back, staring at him wide-eyed. Then Jia Feng blinked, the red melting out of his gaze. He gave Zhu Hong a nod. “I’ve got it.”

Nodding, she ordered, “Go.”

Jia Feng vanished in the blink of an eye, and Zhu Hong turned to the fledgling, who was staring down the stairs with a frown of her own.

“Is that… something every vampire can do?” she asked, curiosity seeming to overwhelm her timidity.

“It’s something all Snakes learn.” Zhu Hong shrugged. “Some clan secrets are techniques anyone could pick up, others depend on lineage. This is the latter.”

Li Qian nodded slowly. Zhu Hong watched her in interest as the gears turned behind her eyes, the shock of her rapidly changing circumstances momentarily shunted in favour of practicality. Zhu Hong approved.

“He called you a princess,” Li Qian spoke up as they walked down the hallways towards Zhu Hong’s room. “Does that make Professor Shen a king?”

Zhu Hong let out a surprised laugh. “No, not at all!” Snickering to herself, Zhu Hong held up a hand to stop the frowning Li Qian from saying anything. “Different flocks use different terms internally, although they tend to stick to the same terms as their sire’s flock before theirs. Professor Shen is the leader of our flock, you may call him Zuzhang. Or Daren, if you want to kiss his ass.”

They finally reached the door to Zhu Hong’s suite, still ajar from her earlier hasty summoning. She made sure to invite the fledgling inside, then ushered her through. It was a large room with a four-poster bed in the center, two huge wardrobes and an armoire lining one wall. Left of the door stood a fainting couch with red upholstering, a glass table next to it holding a half-full wine glass of lukewarm blood Zhu Hong had been sipping earlier. Magazines were strewn across the cushions and table, some of them littering the floor.

Zhu Hong ignored the mess and waved Li Qian into the en-suite bathroom.

“Let’s get you into something more comfortable, shimei.”

Li Qian stepped into the middle of the bathroom, glancing about curiously. “You don’t have any mirrors?”

“Vampires don’t have reflections,” Zhu Hong told her briskly, gesturing for her to turn her back on Zhu Hong. Nails turning into claws, Zhu Hong carefully ripped the remnants of the dirty blouse off, peeling strips of cloth away that stuck to skin due to dried blood and sweat. Li Qian winced, covering her chest for modesty, much to Zhu Hong's amusement.

She left the girl to her own devices and went rummaging through her wardrobe to find something that suited Li Qian’s style, based on the tattered remains of her blouse. Something light, airy. Billowy, but tight around the waist and comfy. The pants she’d worn had been sporty, unlike anything Zhu Hong owned, so she settled on a pair of loose pants that flared out into bell-bottoms. Just then, the water in the shower turned off, announcing Li Qian finished with her task. Staring at her choices, Zhu Hong dove back into the wardrobe in search of a belt, in case the waistband sat too wide on the younger girl.

She was deliberating between a flower-patterned blouse and a black top with shoulders cut-out when she heard the soft pitter patter of bare feet, followed by the creak of the bathroom door. She glanced over her shoulder, just as Li Qian stuck her still wet head through the door.

“Should I call you Princess?” Li Qian asked, a towel wrapped around her body as she carefully opened the door wider. “I mean, since Jia-ge did?”

“Please don’t,” Zhu Hong groaned, wrinkling her nose in distaste.

Li Qian tilted her head. “Shijie, then?”

Zhu Hong paused. “Well, that’s… complicated. Just call me Hong-jie.”

Curiosity flashed over the fledgling’s face. Strands of her wet hair stuck to her throat and shoulders. “How is it complicated?”

“Zuzhang—Shen Wei—he’s my grandsire.” Glancing up, she caught Li Qian staring at her, brow knit faintly in confusion. Huffing, she set the clothes she’d chosen down and crossed her arms.

“It means that he turned the man who turned me,” she explained. "Zuzhang took me and the boys in after our Elders… well. They're all dead. I'm the oldest Snake left."

Li Qian bit her lip, looking like she wanted to ask but knew better. Instead, she inquired cautiously, "Vampires can still die?"

"Well, duh." Zhu Hong rolled her eyes, motioning Li Qian to turn around and sit on the corner of the bed. "Sunlight burns us to ash, unless you're really old and powerful. Wooden stake through the heart will do it, too. Garlic is a myth, but talismans used by a true practitioner can pack quite a punch. Fire is just as dangerous to us as it is to humans."

“Alright.” Li Qian tilted her head back, allowing Zhu Hong to comb it out and braid it with quick efficiency. “If Professor Shen is your shigong, you would be my… shizhi, right?”

“Well, yes, ordinarily. But” —Zhu Hong deftly pinned the braid up in a tidy topknot— “I pledged my allegiance to Zuzhang when the survivors of my clan rejoined his flock. The Snakes used to be a mostly independent branch, with yifu having split from Zuzhang’s flock millennia ago. So there’s, like” —Zhu Hong gestured wildly with her hands— “some level of fealty he’s owed from all Snakes because he’s our patriarch, but it’s not like we visited a lot or were otherwise involved with the main flock.”

“That… sounds indeed complicated,” Li Qian responded after a moment of silence, turning around to eye Zhu Hong. Zhu Hong shrugged, twisting around to grab the clothes she’d picked out for Li Qian and thrusting them at her.

“Shen Wei is one of the older vampires out there, there’s many flocks that split from his. Having them all return regularly to pay their respects is impractical, I guess. We only did it once since I was turned a couple centuries back, so at least he knew who I was when the boys and I showed up on his doorstep without warning.”

Li Qian bit her lip, clutching the clothes to her chest. “Then… Jia-ge called you princess because you’re the oldest of the Snake clan vampires?”

“Well.” Zhu Hong dithered, staring off into the distance. “Yes and no. Technically, I was yifu's heir and would’ve become the branch leader eventually, and as such the boys defer to me, but… in the end, I never took that position, so addressing me as such would be wrong. They’ve settled on princess instead.”

Seeming to sense Zhu Hong had reached her limit on this topic, Li Qian nodded and pushed to her feet, going back into the bathroom to change. Zhu Hong glanced after her, wondering. She was so young, still. Was that what Zuzhang saw when he looked at her? At all of them? Zhu Hong wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly discomfited.

Once upon a time, the boys called her Princess to tease her.

Nowadays, she only felt the heavy mantle of responsibility settling heavier and heavier upon her shoulders whenever they did. She wondered if it ever got lighter, the older you got.

Shaking her head to clear it of dark thoughts, she stood up.

"Well, time for your first test as a member of this flock!" she called out cheerfully through the bathroom door. Li Qian looked up at her, eyes wide with trepidation and anticipation both. Zhu Hong took her in, nodding in approval. The clothes fit her well enough, and she'd chosen the style correctly, leaving Li Qian looking like a cleaner, more mature version of herself. Perfect.

"Step one of learning how to be a proper vampire: find your sire.”

Li Qian's brow knit in confusion. "Find Professor Shen?" At Zhu Hong's expectant look, she shifted, gaze darting over Zhu Hong's shoulder and back to her face. "How… how do I…?"

"You're already doing it," Zhu Hong replied in what she assumed was an encouraging tone. Arching a brow, she added, "Focus."

Li Qian gulped, then closed her eyes. Shortly thereafter, her expression sharpened, nose twitching, like a bloodhound finding a scent. Unconsciously, she took a step forward, then stopped, turning to Zhu Hong with confusion writ large on her face.

"I… that way?"

"Good." Zhu Hong hooked her arm through Li Qian's, pleased with her first foray in teaching her shimei. "You'll get your own room eventually, but for the first couple weeks, it's best to stick close to Zuzhang. You won't want to leave his side for long, the bond will start feeling uncomfortably stretched out."

"The bond?" Li Qian echoed, sounding puzzled. Zhu Hong tugged her out of her chamber and down the hall, and soon Li Qian subconsciously took the lead, walking faster as they approached Shen Wei's wing inside the manor.

"Yes. That draw that you feel, the direction we're heading? That's your bond with your sire. It'll let you know where he is, and Zuzhang will know if you're in danger."

Li Qian mulled over that information, straining to slow down now that Zhu Hong had mentioned the instinct she followed.

"That's handy," she finally decided, just as they passed by the throne room. This close, Zhu Hong could feel Shen Wei on the other side of the wall inside his study through her own version of the bond. Li Qian slipped out from Zhu Hong's light grip, unerringly heading for the right door. Then she paused and looked back at Zhu Hong for instructions.

But before she could speak, Shen Wei called out from the other side, "Come in."

Li Qian hesitated only briefly before opening the door. Zhu Hong followed her inside, lingering in the entrance after she closed the door behind them.

Shen Wei was sitting behind his desk, glasses perched on his nose. Several papers were spread out before him in an orderly fashion, everything in its exact place. Chu-dage was leaning against the wall, arms crossed and face expressionless. Zhu Hong couldn’t guess at whatever they had been talking about, but some prickling awareness allowed her to assume it was serious. Shuddering, she took position next to the door, the only entrance to the windowless room. Chu-dage gave her an approving nod.

Meanwhile, Li Qian beelined for Shen Wei, only faltering when she arrived at the desk and realized she hadn’t been quite conscious of what she’d been doing. Shen Wei greeted her with a small smile, wiping the ink off his raven feather quill and setting it aside.

Other sires were prone to monologuing, not so Shen Wei. He waited patiently as Li Qian fidgeted, glancing at the desk, around the room, before her gaze was drawn back to her sire. Her voice was quiet, uncertain of its welcome when she finally spoke.

“Paperwork, Professor?”

“Yes.” Shen Wei huffed, somewhere between exasperated and annoyed. “Sadly, every government requires bureaucracy to function. Sit down, some of these you’ll have to sign.”

Hesitantly, Li Qian took the chair opposite Shen Wei, then bent over to read the papers he put before her. “Registration?”

Shen Wei hummed agreement. “Every newly turned vampire has to be registered with the local authorities. Should you wish it, your family will be informed about your… death.”

Li Qian frowned, glancing up to search Shen Wei’s face.

“They’ll tell my grandmother about my current status? Or that I died?”

Zuzhang’s expression softened, and Zhu Hong shited uncomfortably. “If you want your grandmother to know, there’s some more paperwork to be filed, but it can be arranged.” He held up a finger as Li Qian lit up. “Once you have gained enough control to be around her. It might take a couple weeks.”

Zhu Hong watched as Li Qian’s back straightened, determination settling in the line of her shoulders.

“When do we start?”

Averting her gaze, Zhu Hong hid her smile behind her knuckles. Yes, she could get used to having a shimei, she thought.

***

“This is bad,” the man murmured, pacing up and down in the windowless room. His robes swished around his feet every time he turned sharply on his heels. “This is bad news indeed. He won’t be pleased.”

His companion adjusted his glasses, staring down at the book on the desk. It was opened to a page half filled with names, followed by relevant data about the person. The most recent one was so fresh, the ink hadn’t finished drying yet.

Li Qian; age 19; living family: Wang Yufen, paternal grandmother; sire: Shen Wei

“Not all is lost,” the second figure mused aloud, tapping the page. “She is a student at Dragon City University, is she not? It shouldn’t be hard to nap her in between classes.”

“Don’t be a fool! Do you have any idea who her sire is?” The pacing man stopped short, turning on his companion, eyes flashing crimson in agitation. His dark robes stood in stark contrast to the other’s dove grey suit.

“Professor Shen is humble and polite, very unassuming. A bit of a pushover, really,” his companion asserted, tugging on the cuffs of his dress shirt. “Frankly, I don’t understand what all the fuss is about.”

The vampire stared at the human in disbelief. “Heipaoshi is one of the strongest, most ancient of vampires. We cannot risk drawing his attention.”

“If you say so,” the other man replied, doubt ringing clear in his voice. “Regardless, the girl is your problem now. I have no use for a vampire. A shame, too, what with her lineage…”

The vampire stroked his long, black beard, ignoring the human’s assertions.

“You are certain you cannot use the grandmother instead?” he asked, and the human made a disgruntled noise.

“Too old and fragile, I’m afraid. We’ll break her before we get anything useful out of her.”

“I see,” the vampire hummed, a contemplative expression flashing over his face before he turned a fake smile on the human. “Keep me updated on the process. I’ll make sure to tie up the loose ends of your… failure.”

The human’s eyes narrowed behind his glasses, and he huffed in obvious offense. “It would’ve worked, if it hadn’t been for—”

The vampire held up a hand, looking bored. “No excuses. Just ensure it’s less of a mess next time.”

Exhaling his annoyance, the human turned on his heel. But as he reached for the door, the vampire called out after him.

“Oh, and Professor Ouyang?”

The human paused, turning reluctantly to glance back.

“Next time, I will leave you to explain to our lord why his orders weren’t followed.”

Crimson eyes flashed in warning, and Professor Ouyang gulped. The moment those eyes turned away from him, he fled the windowless room, into the dark of the night.

#ingno writes #ZhenHun #Guardian #Shen Wei #Li Qian #Zhu Hong #cdrama #vampire au #all is written in blood #fic rec #this was not supposed to have such a serious ending lmao #I just couldn't figure out how to end it so I went omake? but not silly because that doesn't fit the vibe? 👀#and then this ending happened 😂#(you're welcome for more plot hints lol)#(this was supposed be pure Li Qian fluff!)#(but nooooo)#vampire Shen Wei

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behindheremeraldeyes · 3 years

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DamiRae Week 2021 Monday, May 3rd - Pregnancy/ Parenthood & Family/ In-Laws

title: a cup of tea, please

summary: This is her first time being invited for dinner at the Wayne Mansion as his official girlfriend, and to say she’s nervous would be the understatement of the year. While she waits for them to arrive from an emergency call, perhaps, a nice cup of tea can calm her poor heart. Ao3 / ffnet

The path connecting the gates to the main entrance is probably the longest she ever remembers walking in a long time, and the clicking of her black heels against the concrete is starting to sound too loud in her ears. She’s miles away from Gotham, now, and the constant symphony of sirens that is always playing doesn’t reach her ears anymore. The garden is enveloped in peace and quietness, the moonshine bathing the statues and trees with its delicate light.

The Wayne Mansion is a spectacular construction, indeed. Her lavender eyes can’t stop looking around, carefully paying attention to all the details that make this place so impressive. The gothic style, the lit windows and the empowering towers make her feel incredibly small and she can’t help the shivers that run down her spine when she sees the massive water fountain in front of her.

Perhaps, she thinks, it’s a good thing that she came in alone. Raven doesn’t know what kind of face she is making right now, but she knows for sure that her boyfriend would make fun of her for reacting like that. Due to a sudden call from the GCPD requesting the dynamic duo, the empath ended up teleporting herself from Jump City on her own.Though she would always grow worried whenever they received those emergency calls, Damian did promise to meet her at the mansion in one piece so the three of them could have dinner.

Oh, right, the dinner. She feels her heart skipping a beat at the thought, and she has to suppress the urge to bite her lower lip in order not to ruin her lipstick. Of all the monsters and bad guys she has had to face in her life, Raven doesn’t recall ever being this nervous before. All of her primal emotions are screaming at her right now, and some of her inner demons— her father included— are telling her to run and hide in the depths of hell so she won’t have to face what’s to come.

She’s having dinner with the Waynes. However, it’s not just a simple dinner, no. It’s her first dinner as Damian’s official girlfriend— her first dinner meeting his father as his father. And even if she has already encountered Bruce Wayne many times before, she can’t help but think things would be much easier if she believed he was just a rich and eccentric man.

It would certainly be easier if she didn’t know he was, in fact, Batman.

Though she has never had any problems with Bruce since she’s joined the Titans, Raven must admit that she does feel intimidated by the fact that her father-in-law is the Gotham City’s very own Dark Knight. In all of their previous encounters, he has always been very cordial, never disrespecting her or any of her teammates. He is a good man, Damian says so himself. A good man with enough skills to go against every member of the Justice League without a single super-power.

He is a meticulous man, very precise and mysterious. He is her boss, and tonight, he is also her host.

It takes her a while to recompose herself from that wave of emotions, but eventually, Raven reaches the main entrance of the mansion. The mahogany doors are lustrous, and something tells her that the carved details were handmade decades ago. She takes one, last and deep breath, and finally, she reaches for the intercom with her index finger. A loud bell resonates inside the building, and before she has the time to rethink her choices, a muffled voice greets her.

“One moment, miss Roth.”

At those words, the empath is left slightly startled, as she starts playing with her fingers. Judging by the few things she was told her about the manor, Raven believes it’s safe to assume that voice on the speaker belongs to Alfred, the butler. According to her boyfriend’s stories, he has been in the family for at least three generations and he’s probably the one man who knows all of the secrets of the Waynes. Damian always speaks very fondly of him, saying he has always treated him like a boy instead of a potential assassin. Perhaps it wasn’t a very wise decision at the very beginning, but it says a lot about the man he is.

It doesn’t take long before the huge doors swing open in front of her, and as the lights start to creep out, it’s like a whole new world is revealed in front of her. She slowly walks in, her eyes marveled by all the elegance oozing from every corner of that entrance hall, which is probably larger than the house she grew up in.

There’s marble on the floor beneath her feet and a crystal chandelier hanging high above her head. Two spiral staircases unite the first and the second floors, and she notices as the walls are decorated with large, classical paintings of war and winter woods. There’s a brunet woman beautiful portrayed in one of those frames, and something tells her she must be Bruce’s mother. Though subtle, it’s undeniable that Damian shares a lot of his delicate features with her.

He has her cheeks, she thinks, a tender smile taking over her lips. It’s a pure emotion contrasting her current uneasiness, and right now, it’s enough to provide her some sort of comfort.

Even if Raven is completely absorbed by whole scenario around her, she’s quick to notice his presence in the room. Though her ears didn’t realize exactly when he arrived at the entrance hall, her senses are quick to detect the way his warm emotions mingle with hers. There’s a pinch of worry mixed with calmness, but mostly, she can feel a certain excitement building up inside him. It’s completely different from what she feels coming from the Wayne men she knows, for it’s lighter and consistent, and she can’t help but feel welcomed by that.

She still doesn’t even know his voice, but the empath is starting to understand why her boyfriend likes this man so much.

“Good evening, Miss Roth.” He starts, speaking politely and never taking his eyes away from hers. He’s dressed with a formal smoking, his black shoes perfectly shined and his gloves withe as the snow. “My name is Alfred, the butler. Welcome to the Wayne mansion. I apologize on behalf of Master Bruce and Master Damian, for they are still busy handling some matters in Gotham. They should be arriving shortly.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it, Alfred.” Her voice is steady and low, as she tries her best to cause a good first impression. “I'm sure they must be taking care of some important business. There’s no need for an apology. The city needs them, after all.”

“You’re a very kind, young lady. Please, allow me take your coat and walk you to the living room.”

She offers him a smile in response, carefully removing the black coat covering her petit body and revealing her outfit. She’s wearing a long, beige skirt that falls just above her calfs. Her onyx stilettos are giving her some extra inches, and a charcoal, sleeved shirt completes the set. For the material was a little transparent, it was possible to see her dark, lacy cropped beneath it, but according to Zatanna, it’s not indecent or anything. While preparing for tonight, Damian told her not to worry about futile details, but it only felt natural for her to want to look presentable for this evening’s event.

“Thank you, Alfred.” She handles him the coat, and she realizes how careful he is as he puts it inside a hidden closet.

“You're welcome. Now, if you could accompany me.”

"Of course.” She nods, following behind his footsteps. They walk down a large hallway with frames also decorating the walls, and even if she wanted to stay and look carefully at every single one of them, Raven knows better than to risk getting lost. Instead, she keeps paying attention to the composed man leading the way, observing in awe as the living room finally comes to view.

As expected, it’s another no by veryelegant room, filled with classical furniture and a gothic-themed fireplace that is responsible for keeping the area warm. Another large portrait hangs above it, and this time, that same woman is accompanied by a man very similar to Bruce himself. It’s a powerful painting for newcomers such as herself, but she knows it probably has a deeper meaning for those living inside those walls.

The carpets now are thick enough to muffle her heels, and while she’s distracted admiring the clocks spread around the living room, once more, his delicate voice bring her back to their reality. “Would you like a drink, Miss? Master Bruce has chosen a fine wine for the dinner, but feel free to ask me anything.”

“Uhmm.” She hums, pondering, her lips now pressed in a thin line. Though she doesn’t want to sound rude, Raven isn't really a fan of wine. She doesn’t hate it or anything like that, but it’s undeniable that she doesn’t have a high tolerance for alcohol. Once Bruce arrives, though, she will eventually have to share a glass with him, so, for now, she thinks it will be safer to avoid any liquor in order to prevent any embarrassing incident. “How about a cup of tea? I mean, only if it won’t cause you too much trouble, Alfred.”

“Non-sense. I will go boil the water immediately. Would you like any tea in particular?”

“Thank you very much, Alfred. And about the flavor… You can choose whatever you like, I guess. Damian once told me you know a lot about tea, so you probably know better than me when it comes to tea and the best choice for each occasion.”

His expression freezes for a fraction of second, a certain surprise now lacing his emotions. “Oh, did he?”

“Yes, he did.” She nods, offering him a soft smile. “He talks a lot about you, actually.”

“Good things, I hope.”

“The best, I assure you.”

“Who would have thought…” He nods, accepting her words and it’s as if she can sense a certain happiness in his voice. “Very well, I will go boil the water. If you need me, I will be in the kitchen. Please, make yourself at home.”

“I will, thank you.”

After nodding politely— because everythinghe does is polite— he turns around and walks away until he disappears in one of the many hallways she imagines this mansion to have. A soft smile takes over her lips as a warm sensation fills her chest. Alfred is really an amazing man. He’s thoughtful and his emotions are as transparent as Damian’s are filled with pride. Her first impressions on him are impeccable, and though he’s very different from the entire Wayne familiar circle, Raven is starting to understand why their dynamic works.

Maybe, with time, she will come to a full conclusion on that matter.

For now, though, she’s just happy to have finally met the man Damian always mentions whenever he’s talking about home. And now that she’s finally having the chance to add real images to his vague descriptions, well…

To say she’s just impressed would be the understatement of the year.

Though she has been in the mansion for a while now, Raven is still finding it hard to get used to her surroundings. Perhaps it’s the sepulchral silence or the fact that she’s all alone in Batman’s living room, but suddenly, she’s starting to feel a mild anxiety creeping around. She’s starting to feel self-conscious, as if she’s been watched— which is very likely to be happening, for sure— and even if Alfred has told her to make herself at home, the empath realizes it’s easier said than done.

She should’ve brought her book, damn it.

Her eyes are looking around in search of something to distract her from overreacting, but she soon realizes it’s useless. All of that subjective pressure is starting to get the best of her, and chances are that, if that continues like that, she will be teleporting back home before Damian even gets back.

Raven needs to calm down. She needs to stop overthinking and get herself together.

She needs Alfred, preferably with that tea. And even if she doesn't really know where the kitchen is, it’s not like she can’t use her powers to help her find the butler.

Without sparing a second thought, her eyes are already glowing and some loose locks of her purple hair are lifting up. With just a little concentration, she’s able to locate the only emotional human-being in the mansion and even if she doesn’t know which corridor will take her to him, Raven decides to improvise.

A dark energy envelops her body, and in a blink of an eye, the empath is teleported to a dim-lit room that is filled with a slightly bitter citric fragrance she’s very familiar with. It’s Earl Grey tea, she knows. The scent invades her nostrils and she can feel her body calmly responding to it. She takes a deep breath, then, and that’s when her eyes finally acknowledge the man responsible to that delicious aroma.

He’s standing in front of the stove, the boiling water working its magic on the leaves floating above it. As it appears, he’s following all the correct steps to brew the perfect Earl Grey and she doesn’t feel like she can thank him enough for that.

She stands a couple of feet away from him, near a wooden table that has a porcelain tea cup that certainly belongs to an english crockery set. There are four stools near her, and she also notices the many kitchen utensils displayed around the room. The newspaper is resting next to a pair of reading glasses, and she wonders if that’s what he was doing before she got here earlier this evening.

“Miss Roth, may I help you?” He speaks, not bothering to turn to face her, as he’s delicately blending the black tea with Bergamot oil. Though she has literally just appeared behind his back, she noticed how he remained calm and focused. Years of living with that family must do that to a person, she thinks.

“Oh, Uhm… It’s nothing, really.” She starts, stumbling upon her own words like a 5-year-old child who was caught stealing cookies from the jar. Apparently, Raven didn’t really think of a way to properly explain why she even bothered coming after him in the first place. “You see, Alfred, I was just… I was—“

“It’s overwhelming, isn’t it?” He speaks, and suddenly, it’s like her worries dissipate in thin air. It’s funny how she’s the empath between them, and yet, he seems to know exactly what she’s feeling right now. He’s a good man, for sure.

“Yeah.” She sighs, a smile on her face. “I guess I just didn’t want to be alone in Batman’s mansion. Do you mind if I stay here with you until they get back?”

“Of course not, Miss Roth. Please, sit and make yourself comfortable. The tea is almost ready.”

“Thank you.” She says, choosing one of the stools for her to sit. Even if it’s not one of Bruce’s expensive armchairs, Raven is feeling a lot more comfortable here, with him. “Also, I see that you’ve chosen Earl Grey… It’s my favorite.”

“I know it is, Miss Roth.”

Her eyes widen for a moment, and slowly, she lets his words sink in. Few people in this world know such simple details about her life, and though she wouldn’t take Damian for one to chit-chat about his girlfriend’s favorite kind of tea, she’s not oblivious to what that means.

They do get along, she can tell. And even if she can only make guesses on that matter, she definitely wants to know more about that relationship.

“So, Alfred…” She starts again, not really sure how to ask him those questions without sounding too nosy. “How was Damian before he joined the Titans? He talks a lot about you, his father and Dick; but never really about himself.”

“Uhm… Master Damian is different from all the others.” He states, finally turning off the flame of the stove. He lets it sit for a couple of seconds, only then opting to pour it in the cup he had separated for her. The scent is stronger now, and she can’t wait for the temperature to drop just enough so she can take a sip of it. “He's the only one who wantedMaster Bruce to be his paternal figure, even if he might not be aware of that himself.”

“And did he get what he wanted?”

“You perhaps need to spend more time with Master Bruce, my dear.” He says, his voice laced with a certain sarcasm as his mustache slightly turns upwards.

“Well… I don’t know how it was before, but I think they’re starting to understand each other a little better now, right? At least that’s the impression I get every time he goes back to the tower after a night patrol.”

“I believe you’re right, indeed. Both of them are too similar in many aspects, and I think it’s safe to say they’re making progress as father and son. An old man such as myself can only hope for them to find a balance."

“Damian Wayne finding balance in life… That's something I would love to see.” She giggles, earning a side smile from him.

“He's changed a lot since the first time we met him. Master Damian is certainly no longer that irreverent child who’s constantly angry and lost.”

“Maybe that monastery did good for him.”

“Well, not only the monastery, Miss Roth.”

A comforting warmth creeps under her skin and she can't help but feel a sense of wholesomeness taking over her emotions. Though she doubts she’s had all of that effect on him, it’s nice to know she was able to make a difference, no matter how small it might have been.

Her boyfriend is a very complex man, filled with doubts and conflicts that might never come to an end. He struggles to become a new man without abandoning his past, and perhaps, that’s the one thing she loves the most about him. He’s unique, original in his own shape and colors. He’s not trying to please anyone, and yet, even if he doesn’t believe her words whenever she points it out, he’s trying to be a hero.

He will be a fine leader someday, and she can’t wait to be there by his side when his day arrives.

“Thank you, Alfred… For taking care of him when he was a little boy.”

“It was only my job as the family’s butler. I should be the one thanking you, Miss Roth. For taking care of him now that he’s no longer one.”

His old, wrinkled eyes are now looking at her, and there’s an emotion there that Raven can’t really name. It’s pure and laced with honesty, and for a moment, she thinks this is how grandparents are supposed to look at their grandchildren.

It feels special to be looked at like that. It feels warm and safe in a whole different level, and she feels encouraged enough to talk to him about anything in the world. Her tastes, her doubts, fears, and mostly, the things she loves.

At last, she’s beginning to understand the man behind the dynamic duo. At last, she beginning to understand why Damian loves him so much.

There’s an inch of expectation in his face as she finally takes a sip of the tea, and she hopes he can see the satisfied look on her face after that. It’s perfect, for sure. Perhaps the best Earl Grey she’s ever had in her life. As expected from a man such as Alfred Pennyworth.

“It's delicious, Alfred.” She nods, closing her eyes to savor the moment. “Would you like to drink with me?”

“Don't mind me, Miss. It’s still too early for my tea.”

“Oh, I see… Maybe next time, then?”

“Of course. Next time will be perfect.”

Neither of them really knew for how long they’ve been talking, but eventually, their ears capture the sound of rushed footsteps coming from down the hallway. Unalarmed eyes turn their attention to the source of the new sound that has disturbed their chit-chat, and in a matter of seconds, a raven haired boy dressed in his black turtle-neck shirt appears.

“Alfred, we’re home! He starts, sounding slightly breathless. “Have you seen Rav—“ Though he did seem bit exasperated, at first, once his emerald eyes meet her amethyst one, it’s as if time stops and he allows himself to breath. “Oh, there you are.”

“Hi.” She greets him, a warm smile now forming on her lips. “Took you long enough, Boy Wonder.”

“You see, everything was going just fine until those lunatics decided it would be fun to rob the Gotham museum. Penguin was behind this one this time.”

“And did you get him?” She asks, taking another sip of her tea.

“Not really… He escaped through the sewers, that bastard. Next time he won’t stand a chance, though!”

“You’ll get him next time, I’m sure.”

“Yeah…” He nods, running his fingers through his dark locks. “Sorry to keep you waiting for so long."

“Oh, don’t worry about it. Alfred here has kept me company while you were busy.” She states, looking at the butler so they could exchange an honest glance. “Though I believe he’s too polite to tell me to leave so I can stop distracting him from the important things he has to do."

“Nonsense, Miss Roth.” Alfred states, no hesitation in his voice. “Our talk has proven itself quite amusing.”

“I'm glad to know that. I really enjoyed our talk, too.” She states, taking the last sip of her tea before finally standing up. She takes a few steps to get closer to Damian, who almost instinctively, places his hand right on her lower back. Their eyes meet once more, and there’s a small smile playing on his lips.

“Good to see you two getting along. What were you two talking about?”

“You, of course.”

“Me?” He lifts an eyebrow, and she watches amusedly as confusion takes over his face. “Can you be a little more specific?”

“Sure. We were talking about this silly game you play with all the girls you bring home for dinner.” She teases, a sparkle lit inside her amethyst eyes. "Honestly, keeping us waiting all alone so close to Batman’s secrets isn’t a really good idea.”

“TT.” He scoffs, a pout decorating his face. “You're not funny.”

“I would have to disagree, Master Damian. She’s quite the spirituous one.”

“Thank you, Alfred.”

“You're welcome, Miss Roth.”

“I'm clearly outnumbered here.”

A giggle escapes her lips as she smiles at her new partner in crime. Alfred nods back at her, and once her attention returns tenderly towards her boyfriend, the butler clears his throat in order to get their attention. “Master Damian, why don’t you take Miss Roth to the living room to meet your father? I’ll be finishing the preparations for the dinner.”

“Great idea, Alfred.” Damian agrees, offering her his arm to hold as a true gentlemen would. “Shall we?”

“Of course.” She nods, accepting his offer and bringing her body even closer to his. Her emotions feel lighter, and her chest is warmer now that she is getting to know more about him and his life away from the Titans. Her conversation with Alfred was very pleasant and she really hopes she can get another chance like this in a nearby future. “Thank you for keeping me company, Alfred. It was a real pleasure meeting you.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Miss Roth.” He bows cordially, and she has no reason to doubt his words.

Both Alfred and Raven reach a mutual agreement, and carefully, she feels Damian carefully pulling her towards the corridor from where he came. The two lovers are about to walk away with their arms laced, but suddenly, the butler’s voice stops them in their tracks.

“Master Damian, if I may…”

“What is it, Alfred?” Damian asks, curiosity now taking over both of them.

“You've found yourself a very nice girl and my old heart can’t handle another emotionally inept Wayne. Don’t let her slip away.”

Her eyes widen at his statement and she can even feel a blush threatening to tinge her cheeks. A mix of feelings is running through her veins right now, and if anything, she feels her heart skipping a beat while waiting for Damian’s answer to this.

Is he going to laugh it off?

Is he going to opt for one of the rude answers he’s always giving Dick?

Is he going to—

Her train of thoughts is suddenly interrupted by the feeling of his other hand on top of her arm. His fingers caress her exposed skin, and for a moment, she hopes she doesn’t look half as dumbfounded as she is inside. His emerald eyes are now looking deep into hers and all of the words disappear from her mind.

“I won't, Alfred.” He answers, his voice an octave lower than before. “I certainly won’t.”

A soft smile slowly makes its way to her lips, and right now, she realizes how happy she is to be here. Not only she got to know the famous Alfred, but Raven also got the chance to know more about the man she holds so dear in her heart.

At last, they make their way to the dinning room where Bruce is probably waiting for them. They exchange smiles and a few words in order to catch up on the last couple of hours. There’s a chuckle, a sigh and even a muffled sound that shall be kept in secret by the walls of the mansion. Without a hurry in the world, their feet keep moving forward, their arms never once untangling.

fin.

------

a/n: Hapy Damirae week! This is my first time participating and I’m so excited!! Thanks to this ship, I’ve met so many wonderful people and all I want right now is for our beloved ship to be showered with all the love and affection it deserves! Thank you all who have made me feel so welcomed and let’s have a blast during this week! Hope you enjoy this one, and please, tell me what you think!

#damirae #damirae week 2021 #damirae week may 3 #damian x raven #demonbirds #mydamiraefics

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