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twothpaste · 1 year ago

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fick chunk about fuel's not-so-secret project at the new pork ruins, which somehow doubles as a whole-ass character study. (featuring bronson, nana, claus, lucas, and abelle my oc abelle.)

Speakin' of daylight: the noontime shine renders fire far less fearsome.

It flickers from the wick of a tiny index finger. Scarlet diamonds, scarcely greater than a candle's glimmer. How it kisses the ocean. That white-blue horizon line. There's a quaint horror, at the heart of the matter. Knowing even embers like these would - given the chance - reduce houses to ashes. And a quainter comfort, still. Knowing she'd never dare let 'em.

If you ask him 'bout phobias, Fuel ain't got none. Try talkin' to him 'bout "Pee-Tee-Ess-Dee," and he'll kindly decline, arms crossed. "Nah. Nope. N' hell naw, while I'm at it. But thank ya very much, Lucas." That kinda talk's for the twins. N' their forefathers. N' former Pigmasks, maybe some of 'em. His matchstick jitters're just a reflex. His muscles pulled stiff, at the scent of somethin' burning - well, that's 'cause it's a heck of a stinkin' smell. When he wakes up coughing, choking, on smoke that ain't there, it's that sleep apnea shit he's got. Nana diagnosed it. Y'can call her a madwoman, n' he does too, when he's joshin' around. But don't get it backwards. She knows what she's talkin' about.

Likewise, Abelle doesn't mention what's irking her. That she'd definitely be able to muster more than a goshdarn candle. Maybe an antique gas stove. Or a fireplace lighter. If only she'd gotten more than three hours of sleep. It casts a vague orange, ruffling up against the work station's tarped shade. Miscellaneous metal parts reflect only the teeniest glimmers. A wrench here. A dubious hunk of titanium there.

"So. Y'light it with yer mind? Just like that, huh…?" Even after all this time, truth be told, Fuel can still scarcely wrap his head around it.

"Sure do!" Abelle chimes. Before dousing her pride, so as not to be impolite. As the flame wavers, her brow furrows. "It doesn't exactly come natural, though. Gotta focus real hard on it. Helps to think of somethin' warm. I'm thinkin' of s'mores, right now."

"S'mores, huh? Makes sense, I guess. Y'ain't scared of it, or nothin'?"

"Me? Hehe! Naw, I'm never scared!"

"Well, shit! Beg yer pardon!" Fuel leans back, hands raised, donning an amused grin. Has a bite of his peanut butter sandwich, while he's at it. N' mutters the rest with a fist coverin' his mouthful. "I'm only askin' 'cause, ah.. Lucas used to say this psychic stuff was an awful sorta scary. Back when he first started doin' it, I mean."

"Oh, he's told me so, too. It's kinda funny, ain't it? Everyone always says he used to be so skittish. I can't hardly picture it." Abelle's got strawberry jam on hers. N' banana slices, too. She snuffs out the flare, just long enough for a meager nibble.

"Heh. That's fair. Sometimes I can't, neither." Beyond the makeshift awning, out there in the blue, silhouettes mill about the boats. Settin' up chemical filtering equipment, they'd said? Somethin' or other. If he squints, Fuel reckons he can make out Lucas' red-n'-yella plaid. Leading the pack, no doubt. "What if it goes outta control? If the fire gets bigger than y'bargained for, or whatever? That, uh… That ever happen?"

"Mm-mm," Abelle answers. Shakin' her head. "Not really. Not with PK Fire. Sometimes my Shields're too big, if y'can believe it. N' sometimes I start hearin' what other folks're thinkin', n' it's like..? Like I can't turn it off. But, if I'm bein' honest…" Her gaze dips downward, back into the shadows. Scrutinizes the pitiful candle wick, held low in her lap. "M'no good at Psycho-Kinesis. Offensive PSI, Kumatora calls it. The stuff y'can fight with."

"That ain't so bad, is it? Not much to fight about, these days."

"That's what Kumatora n' Lucas're always sayin'. But gosh, have ya seen them spar? They're incredible! N' Claus, too! PK Love, n' Ground, n' Starstorm… It's amazin'. The stuff they can do."

The way the kid's eyes brim with starshine, Fuel can totally imagine her watchin' the Cerulean Beach lightshow. Cheerin' from the sidelines, as Claus and Kumatora hurl fireballs at each other. Makin' the whole goddamn planet Earth shake, like it ain't done since armageddon. Or when Lucas' gaze takes on that otherworldly glow N' shit starts floatin' all around him. Like the very laws of nature were made to be broken, far as he's concerned. Somethin' so gentle n' mild - transfigured into somethin' downright cataclysmic.

Yeah, Fuel's seen 'em spar, alright. It scares the piss outta him.

"But me? I've got none o' that. Too weak for it, I guess." Abelle pinches her fingers together, quashing the flame like a bug. Takes a deep breath. Exhales it all, in one quick burst. "Shoot. Sorry. Didn't mean to go off on a tirade. I prob'ly sound real ungrateful. N' envious, besides."

"Naw, I, ah… I reckon I get where yer comin' from." Fuel shifts his weight, atop the supply crate he's sittin' on. Nurses a half-flat can of Sierra Mist. To clear his throat of that smoggy, cloggy sensation. "Y'just wanna be capable. Protect the folks y'care about. Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Be a part of somethin' bigger."

"Yeah…"

"Nothin' wrong with wantin' that." Aluminum crinkles, frail, in his sturdy grasp. "Nothin' wrong at all."

His sandwich disappears down his gullet, during the brief quiet that ensues. Hers remains a work-in-progress. Restless, at seventeen and three months, even lunch breaks are a kind of labor. She shuffles her boots over strewn wires.

"Thank ya, Fuel," Abelle tells him. N' he perks up, and shrugs. Like he's surprised to hear it.

"Me? Naw, thank you. 'Preciate ya showin' me Pee-Kay Fire, at least. Made me feel a little braver. Fer what it's worth."

"Hehe. Aw, jeez. You're welcome, then."

It ain't pyrophobia. She'll take his word for it. But even little miss sunshine can tell there's somethin' he's tryin' to overcome. No matter how quickly he changes lanes.

"Say, y'don't got Thunder? By any chance?"

"Nope. Only Fire. Why?"

"Aw, no reason. Jus' curious."

"Well. I've got a curious question, too, if y'don't mind it. What's all this you're workin' on, in here?"

"Mm?" Fuel's gaze jolts to meet hers, if only for a split second. Dirty fingernails sift along the crate's lid. One foot kicks a heavy-duty screwdriver away, into the lamp-cast shadows. His teeth form a simper. "'Fraid that's a bit of a secret, lil' miss."

The kid's tired eyes turn suddenly sharp. Glancin' past him, at a dimly-lit swath of buttons and dials. Then directly at him. Snagged in a potent stare. Fuel hesitates before speakin' up. Still wearing that dumb grin on his face.

"Wait. Hah. Y'ain't tryin' to read my mind, are ya?"

Abelle stares harder. Takes a deep breath, leaning ever so slightly towards him. Then closes her eyes. As if embroiled in a deep, scrying focus. A chuckle cracks its way through Fuel's constitution. He shakes his head. Clambers to his feet.

"Okay, alright. I'll show ya. But, ah…" One index finger rises, as he drops to a near-whisper. "You'll keep it on the down-low, won'tcha?"

Abelle peeks one eye open. And smiles like a Keebler elf.

"Cross my heart, hope to die!"

Yellow paint peels to reveal steel plating. Which, in turn, gives way to scarlet rust. Layin' there in a dilapidated heap, rot notwithstanding, the central console alone prob'ly weighs as much as Abelle herself. Its glass cranium's a lost cause. Shattered n' displaced ages ago. Stiff rods stickin' out the circular chasm up top. Fuel managed to scavenge one lower left limb, mostly intact, from its would-be resting place. The others are a work-in-progress. They litter the workshop, alongside other unfinished Frankensteins. Pull on a pair of inch-thick gloves. A heavy helmet, with a darkened slit for a view. Smothered an apron, like a weighted blanket. She'd tell him he looks silly, if she didn't know better. Absolute spaceman.

He can't tame a bonfire. He can tame a welder. Got a safety checklist in his head. A spark-proof suit of armor. And a forge built of impenetrable battlements.

When Porky took Fuel, he had him puttin' in child labor hours at the goddamn bakery. Workin' dough for desperate dough. Burnin' bread like nobody's business. Absolute wonder he didn't get f-f-f-fired! As merciful a manager as Sweet Caroline was, the role suited her like a square peg to a round hole. N' Fuel, likewise, was a sorry excuse for a baker. Kneading putty, coughin' up flour and oven smog, apron tied too twisty-tight 'round his tree-trunk waist. Like his father before him, the young craftsman's calloused hands have always preferred sturdier fare. If y'ask Fuel, the hop-skip-n'-a-jump from lumber to iron ain't so much of a leap, after all.

Mecha Lions n' Boa Transistors are his bread n' butter out here. Should a stray Rhinocerocket come barrelling through the walkway, on account of a busted fin, Fuel's your guy. He'll whip up a replacement in no time flat. N' never mind the occasional dent that may mar his best bud's steely shins. Chimera repairs're a noble duty, far as he's concerned. One he's proud to uphold.

Robots, though? Most folks hardly consider 'em casualties. If they consider 'em at all.

An uncommon sight - most have long since ceased functioning. Uttered their last garbled beeps, and melded into the wreckage upon which they stand. A slim handful were reprogrammed n' repurposed, back during the first salvage missions. The rest were left to their tombs. Haunted the Harbor for about a decade, crawlin' around the place in various states of zombified dysfunction. You can picture a teenaged Fuel's cringing horror, as a shambling Octobot claimed his leg in a tendril's grasp. Yanked him straight down with a vengeance nastier than any sinkhole. Claus came to his rescue, this time. Made quick work of it. Crowbar's clash. Psionic flash. An ugly scowl marks the spot in his memory.

Y'can picture, too, how that same teenaged Fuel looked down upon the un-creature. One half titanium, one half bronze, sundered roughly down the middle. Circuit-tronics n' whatsits, blasted every which way. Not-brains spilling from its not-head. Its veneer, crisply obliterated, looked not unlike a welding mask. Come to think of it.

Each had a directive, once upon a time. Monitor the perimeter. Exterminate intruders. Serve King Burgers. Whatever. None have the chops for any task, anymore. Too feeble, ineffectual, expendable. Too little, too late. Wrong place n' time. To say robots "want" for anything would be a stretch. But the premise of "purpose" gets Fuel a wee bit misty-eyed.

Sure, it's a silly sentiment. He knows it. "Laugh it up, if ya like," he says. Becomes apparent to Abelle, real quick, that it ain't an illicit sorta secret, but a self-conscious one. Some folks have a righteous penchant for amends. He's got a feckless tendency toward unsung causes.

"Naw, I think it's mighty kind of ya," she replies. Naturally. Abelle's the girl who calls old cars "she," n' pats her PC's tower when it ain't loadin', n' prescribes human feelings to vintage stereos. That said, she'd be lyin' if she claimed her intrigue isn't primarily techno-historical. Eyein' the robot with an eagerness to match his mercy. "What about the wiring? N' the hardware repairs? I know just a lil' bit, myself. Might could help ya fix the processin' unit, if it's still got one."

"That so, Barbie? I'll take ya up on it, if y'mean it. Got Sheep helpin' me with some o' the electronics. Was thinkin' of askin' Claus, but they.. ah…"

They were there, last week, when Fuel pried the leg from the bog. Their spine's no good for heaving, these days. Helped him pull it loose, nevertheless. A mere index finger beckoned a telekinetic tug. N' they'd been all laughs, n' Lifeup, n' pats on the back, after Kerosene was sent tumblin' backwards. The foundry's mechanical menagerie had them whistlin' a different tune, though. Quiet steps, Lucas-esque. Deer in a taxidermy shop. Low glower, set upon Fuel's Lego brick pity projects.

"I don't see what's gotcha so touchy, all of a sudden. Ain't that different from Mecha Lions n' Boa Transistors, is it?"

Claus didn't answer him with the same old scowl. Not quite. Fury is a mask they outgrew ages ago.

Nana told him not to sweat it, over dinner. "Environment's got a profound effect on an animal's nerves. His words, not mine. He won't say so, but I think the Harbor has him a bit on edge. I wouldn't take it personally, if I were you."

"Me? Take shit personally? Hahah. I would never! Jeez, Nana, it's like ya don't even know me."

Fuel's the only one who can get her to roll her eyes with a smile. He loves it when she does that.

… Anyways.

He tells Abelle she ought not mention it to Claus. No sooner than she nods her noggin, Bronson barges in. Here to check up on his apprentice's handiwork, apparently. A wayward elbow knocks that can of Sierra Mist from its cabinet-top perch. "Oh, shoot. I didn't…" The master smith gawks down at his blunder. Only to find the can halfway crushed. And thankfully empty. Not a drop of spillage. He hunches over - pop in his knees - and picks it up. There's a remarkable grace to his hammy fingers. And a klutziness to his cough. ".. Ehm. Sorry." Fuel chuckles. No harm, no foul.

"Gosh, how many folks're in on this, anyways?" Abelle inquires. "Doesn't seem like much of a secret to me."

"The hell do ya mean? It's jus' Bronson, n' Sheep, n' Claus," muffles Fuel, through his helmet. "N' Nana, o' course. N' you. Now. I guess. So, uh. Practically nobody."

The robot's shiny new right leg is immaculate, by the way. Accordin' to Bronson's utmost scrutiny. A nigh mirror image of its leftward double. "I'm tellin' ya, Barlmoro, you've got this down to a science! Dunno what the heck y'need me for, anymore. I'll give ya a hand with the installation, though. Only since ya asked real nice."

"Why thank ya, boss," says Fuel. Who didn't ask at all.

But disaster strikes the master, when he hunkers on down. A sharp pain in his lumbar is swift to knock him right outta commission. Abelle ends up nursin' his woes with Lifeup, while Bronson nurses a root beer. She lends Fuel her lackluster telekinesis, in his stead. An invisible force - only a little shaky - helps him attach both legs, safe and secure, to the central console.

"… This look even to you, boss?" Fuel tosses back. Like a consolation.

Bronson holds up a measuring level, from his seat on the sidelines. Closes one eye. Squints. N' forces a wincing grin.

"Right on, kid."

Couple mornings later, Lucas swings by, in that awfully quiet way he's wont to. Nearly spooks Fuel right outta his skin, when he gets a knock on the wooden entryway frame. He tosses a frantic tarp over the automaton's arms. Raises his soda can, to meet Lucas' coffee jar.

"Ain'tcha doin' chimera transit today? Whatcha need little ol' me for?"

"We're gettin' started now. Thought I'd drop by, while uh. While most folks're preoccupied."

Lucas can't read minds. Besides Claus', at least. Kumatora's, maybe a little. But no one else. He's assured Fuel of it, 'bout ten or eleven times. Still, he finds his stomach sinkin' a little. The way his childhood pal looks right through him.

"Claus mentioned y'were repairin' robots. Told me not to tell anybody. Then, ah… Then Abelle said so, too. Ain't sure if it's still s'posed to be a secret or not."

Right. Of course.

"Heh, well, shit! Y'got me! I know, I know, y'don't gotta tell me, it's real stupid. They ain't livin' things. Don't even got feelin's, n' here I am feelin' sorry for 'em. We oughtta be usin' their parts for scrap, n' chimera repairs, n.. n' if ya need me to, Lucas, I'll stop n' do that instead, honest to god. Didn't mean to be all sketchy about it, I jus'..? Mm?"

Ain't like Lucas to interrupt. He raises his hand, instead. With a real pitiful blast of his overcast sky eyes.

"Err. Sorry. Go ahead," says Fuel.

"Don't worry 'bout it. S'alright. I just wanted to offer, um.. I mean. I can't work metal, or electronics, or do none o' that programmin' stuff. But. If y'ever need a jolt? Y'know, like, to jump-start somethin'?"

Lucas flashes him a thumbs-up. A teeny spark of PK Thunder dances from his fingertip.

"Lemme know. Anytime."

He watches, over a meek sip of coffee. While Fuel's pensive panic melts away like marshmallow goop.

"Ha.. haha! Phew, fuck, man! Thank ya, Lucas!! I mean it. Thank ya...!"

#another long one. fuck it we ball.#my take on fuel ended up being really funny?? unexpected funnyguy??? oops.#every time i pick up a character i haven't worked with before something insane happens i can't help it #the theme for this chapter is “frailty”. make of it what you will #osha's eleven #2thprose

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qzwrites · 4 months ago

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Maria/Arevin pt 1

do you ever imagine a woman so colorful you are compelled to write several thousand words about her having an extremely late-breaking sexual awakening

(sergeant arevin is sasha's childhood bodyguard and helen's father. he is...marginally less fucked up than bothari?)

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"'Scuse me," someone grunted from the doorway to Jaz's right, and ze took a step back to let them out. It was a tall, thin, visibly trans woman bodily hauling a man out of a bar. The man was struggling, but his feet were barely touching the ground.

Jaz watched with some bemusement as the clocky woman threw the man into the street. "Woman enough to kick your ass, faggot!" she shouted at him, then glanced at Jaz. "No offense," she said.

"None taken," Jaz said.

"And stay the fuck outta my bar," the woman barked at the man she'd just thrown out. "'Less you can learn to keep your nasty comments to yourself! Piece of shit," she muttered, as the man scrambled to his feet and down the street.

"Pardon me, ma'am," Jaz said to her, "strange question, but are you single?"

She glanced at Jaz and snorted. "You couldn't handle me, kid," she said.

Jaz laughed. "I'm actually already married," ze said, "but I have a friend--a former fuck-buddy, actually--who I think might like you."

She took a closer look at Jaz. "You're one of them Petrov Gnillesians," she said after a moment.

Jaz, conscious of the fact that ze was wearing trousers, dipped into zeir daintiest curtsey. "At your service," ze said.

"You were fucking someone other than Lord Petrov?" the woman asked skeptically.

Jaz laughed. "Oh, ma'am," ze said. "Yeah, I was fucking people other than Sasha. I would've attempted Kavagoran-style monogamy if he asked, but thank God he did not."

She gave Jaz another once-over, then sneered at zem. "You think because someone fucked your pansy ass they won't mind a tranny, huh?" Considering she was taller than Jaz and had just carried an adult man with little apparent effort, Jaz was willing to let her call zem a pansy; she was clearly actually strong.

Jaz shrugged. "Mostly I think you just kicked that guy's ass and you're not a man, which are kind of the two main things he's looking for," ze said. "And I don't think you'd have any problem telling him to shut the fuck up when he's being...weird."

"Weird how?" she asked, frowning. She pulled a pack of cigarettes out of her back pocket, tapped one out, and set it between her lips. Then she offered Jaz the pack.

"No thanks," Jaz said. She shrugged and slid the pack back into her pocket before pulling a lighter out of a different pocket. Jaz said, "I mean, he's a Kavagoran man with war trauma and a chip on his shoulder about being in the service. Except he's also worked for the Petrovs for the last thirty years. What do you think?"

She lit the cigarette and took a drag before she answered. "Sounds interesting, at least," she said. "I appreciate you asking if I'm single, like I might not be," she added.

"I mean, I don't know you," Jaz said, with a shrug, "and if there's one thing I know people on this planet get offended by, it's acting like marital status doesn't have anything to do with if you're down to fuck."

The woman exhaled, nodding. "Name's Maria Ivanov," she said, looking at Jaz sidelong. "I am single, and I have to admit I'm curious as to who the fuck you think would find both of us equally attractive." She was delightful, Jaz thought.

"Jaz Arroyo Petrov," ze said, smiling. "Nice to meet you. Have you ever seen Baron or Baroness Petrov out somewhere with an armsman who looks like he got hit by a truck?" Jaz asked. Maria snorted and nodded. "That's the guy," Jaz said.

"Petrov's butt-ugly attack dog," Maria said.

"He's actually really sexy," Jaz said, "although I guess that relies on you being into the kind of shit I'm into."

Maria snorted. "That feels like a big if, kid," she said.

"It is," Jaz said. "Better chances here than back on Gnilles, though. I think."

"So rough shit, then," Maria said, smiling a little. "Well, I ain't opposed to that. Don't know if I'm 'into' it."

"Oh?" Jaz asked. Ze smirked. "You're trying to tell me you're a Kavagoran woman who isn't even a little bit into a man who's big and tough enough to just take what he wants?"

Maria sputtered on her cigarette. "Shit," she said, laughing, "yeah, okay, when you put it like that. Blood and bone." She waved a hand in front of her body, indicating herself. "Not really something I expected to come across." She was not quite as tall as Helen, and she hadn't seemed to struggle to carry an adult man out of the bar. Men who were bigger and tougher than her were rare, even on Kavagor.

"So it'd be an experience, at least," Jaz said.

"It would," Maria agreed. "What the hell, why not?"

Arevin was visibly just humoring Jaz when he agreed to meet Maria. He'd outright rolled his eyes when Jaz told him, "I met a lady I think you might like," which was a charming bit of rudeness he wouldn't have dreamed of letting zem see when Jaz first came home with Sasha.

Maria's schedule was a little weird, since she was a bartender and either managing the place for the owner or part-owner herself, but eventually she arranged to meet Jaz and Arevin at the Petrov's horse yard.

"Arevin," Jaz said when they were all there, "this is Maria."

Maria had made the unconventional choice to show up in trousers, but she had on a top with the criss-cross bust detailing of traditional Kavagoran blouses, as well as a light jacket that had machine embroidery down the front opening, around the collar, and on the sleeve cuffs. She had her hair pulled into an incongruously formal bun and had put on makeup. She wore a set of earrings that matched her necklace. She almost looked more obviously trans like that than she had throwing a bigot out of the bar. Jaz thought she was probably the bravest person ze'd ever met on Kavagor.

Arevin looked at her and said, "Not much to look at."

Jaz rolled zeir eyes. Evenly, though not really politely, Maria said, "You're not exactly a prize yourself, old man. But I guess you must be a decent armsman, for Baron Petrov to keep you around so long."

He grunted. "Arroyo said you could fight."

"Enlisted Mixed-Weight UAC Champ three years running," Maria said.

That appeared to confuse Arevin. He stared at Maria blankly for a few moments. Then he said, "Oh, you used to be a man."

Jaz closed zeir eyes.

Maria laughed. "Are you going blind, old man? It ain't like I pass good."

"I just thought you were ugly," Arevin said, shrugging.

"Holy shit, Sarge," Jaz said. Ze was forced to reconsider the possibility that he had been trying to be polite to zem when Sasha first brought zem home, and was simply very bad at it.

Maria just laughed some more. "Ugly and stupid," she said. "What a combo. You brought me to a real winner, kid." She stripped off her jacket and handed it to Jaz. Her top was sleeveless, and her arms were the lean kind of muscular Jaz bet felt like iron. Then she reached up to take out her earrings, which was a good call; Arevin hated that Jaz wouldn't take zeirs out when they sparred. She turned and handed those to Jaz as well. Then she reached into her shirt and pulled out...her breasts? She handed those to Jaz, too, who took them reflexively, because when someone handed zem their fake boobs ze accepted them. Evidently. "Don't look at 'em like that, kid," she said, "I know they're not as fancy as yours, but they're the most expensive thing I own."

"Maria," Jaz said, "after you and Sarge are done sizing each other up, we're gonna go see Lady Sardavin and see about getting you some estrogen."

Maria snorted. "Yeah, sure, kid," she said.

Jaz put the earrings in zeir pocket, threw the jacket over zeir arm, and shuffled both breast forms into the cradle of one elbow so ze could pull out zeir com. "Danny," ze said the instant her voice mail would let zem speak, "I have no idea how to help someone get hormones on this planet but the woman I brought to meet Sarge just handed me her fake boobs with her earrings and now they're doing that circling thing. She didn't believe me when I told her I was going to see about getting her some estrogen. I just realized I don't know if she even knows about hormonal transition. Am I being presumptuous? Am I the privileged galactic asshole right now? This planet's got me so fucked up, Danny. Holy shit, I think Sarge is bleeding." Zeir com beeped in zeir ear. "Fuck, now I think you're calling me back," ze said, and scrambled to hang up without rejecting the incoming call.

"Hey, babe, what's up?" Daniil asked when Jaz managed to answer.

"I'm having a fucking episode is what's up," Jaz said. Arevin wiped the blood off his face while Maria rolled to her feet. Jaz saw why she had her hair up now; she had much more of it than Jaz did, and it would be either in her face or a handhold if it wasn't pinned to her head like that. Into the com, ze asked, "How hard is it for a normal person to get hormones on this planet? I'm assuming her veteran's benefits won't cover it."

Daniil snorted. "Yeah, no," she said. "Call back in about fifty years. Does she have money? Not nobility money, just regular money."

"Well," Jaz said, "she took out her fake boobs before she and Sarge started fighting, and she said they were the most expensive thing she owned, so I'm guessing not."

"She what? Jaz, what is happening?"

"I found the perfect woman for Helen's dad," Jaz said. "They are currently attempting to beat the hell out of each other. I wasn't really expecting them to go through with the fistfight but I guess this is what passes for a courting ritual on your world."

"For Helen's father? Sounds about right," Daniil said. "Did you say she was a veteran?"

"When he asked if she could fight, she said something about being a champion enlisted mixed-weight fighter," Jaz said. "Three years running. That's when Sarge clocked her as trans. She laughed at him because she doesn't really pass, but as far as he's concerned, if you're dressed as a woman, you're a woman."

"That is one of the few positive qualities I would ascribe to him, yes," Daniil said. Like her husband, she was not as attached to Arevin as the Petrovs proper were. "Okay, I bet she can get bloodwork done with the military benefits, that's good. I don't really want to take risks with someone else's organ function. Where are you? Petrov House?"

"The horse yard, yeah," Jaz said. "Knowing Sarge, I figured we should be somewhere not legally public. He's definitely having fun, at least."

"I don't understand why you're invested in him," Daniil said. "I'll be right over, give me like half an hour."

"You're the best, I love you," Jaz said.

"Damn right," Daniil said, sounding just like Yakov, "love you too." She ended the call.

Maria dodged out of the way of a feint and just managed to deflect the actual blow, but it knocked her off balance. Arevin had her on the ground in half a second, arms locked above her head with his. Maria laughed, wheezing a little. "You are good," she said. She struggled a little. "Strong." She wriggled a little more, this time in her lower body. It looked fairly obscene. "Feels like you got a pretty big dick, too." She shouted, "Hey, kid! Why didn't you list a big dick as one of his selling points?"

"I don't know that it is," Jaz called back, walking over to them. "Coupla times I would've appreciated a slightly smaller dick."

"Liar," Arevin said, releasing Maria's arms. He rolled off of her to get to his feet.

Maria didn't get up, just rolled onto her back, grinning. "Seems to me," she said to Jaz, "if you're looking for masochists, a big dick's gotta be a plus. Even if it isn't, it hurts, so it is."

Arevin snorted as he stood, then extended a hand to help Maria up. God, he didn't do that for anyone but Sasha and Emil. And Delara, probably, although Jaz had never seen her spar with anyone.

Maria eyed his proffered hand. "It is so tempting to yank you back down here," she said.

"You're too out of shape to go again," Arevin said.

She laughed. "Bones, ain't that right! I haven't worked so hard since I took my twenty," she said, and took his hand. She grunted a bit as she got to her feet, but she didn't try to throw him, and he didn't drop her. Unless Jaz was mistaken, that meant ze was now a qualified Kavagoran match-maker. Specializing in weird, violent veterans. Which was at least a bigger demographic on Kavagor than back home.

"Daniil's on the way to talk about hormone therapy," Jaz said, "because I don't know shit about your awful health care system." Ze handed over Maria's boobs, then her jacket, then her earrings. While Maria reassembled herself, Jaz asked, "Should we go up to the house and see if Ma's got anything in the fridge?"

"Don't you dare introduce me to no Petrovs," Maria said, putting in her earrings. "Not when we just been rolling in the dirt." Her top was a little grass-stained, and there was mud on both her trousers and Arevin's.

"If they're in the kitchen, they are but humble supplicants to Ma Eshman, the cook," Jaz said. "Simply an old guy and a bunch of dirty galactics." Ze laughed when Arevin made the face he always made when ze said things like that. "It's a term of endearment, Sarge."

"It's not," Arevin said.

Maria laughed. "Coming from the kid?" she asked. "I'm sure it is. Ze said you were really sexy, so you know something's wired wrong in zeir head."

"I prefer to think of it as a fresh perspective," Jaz said haughtily. Maria laughed again.

They were just sitting down to sandwiches and fresh lemonade, because Ma Eshman couldn't help herself, when Daniil swanned through the door in one of her hugely poofy skirt outfits. "Hello!" she said. "Good afternoon, Ma Eshman, oh, is that fresh lemonade? You are a wonder. Sergeant, Jaz, ma'am, I'm afraid with all the personal information ze was telling me Jaz somehow neglected your name." She glared at zem as she sat down at the kitchen table. Her hair was still growing out, but her skirt doubled her size and her tits were on prominent display in the coordinating top.

"Er, Maria, my lady." She kicked Jaz under the table.

"Daniil is explicitly not a Petrov, she's a Sardavin," Jaz said, since that must have been what the kick was about, "and what did I tell you about the kitchen? This is a class-free zone. There's Ma Eshman at the top, then whoever she's got doing errands for her, and then the rest of us common plebians begging for scraps."

"So true," Daniil said, taking a sandwich. "It's wonderful to meet you, Maria; do you even want hormones? It didn't sound as if Jaz asked," she said, again glaring at zem. Since ze'd realized that zemself, ze wasn't offended. If Daniil thought casting zem as the bad guy was the right play for a Kavagoran audience, she was probably right.

"Didn't think I could afford them," Maria said with a shrug. "And even if I could, don't the doctors make you do all sorts of stupid shit, like therapy and cutting your dick off? I know it ain't the most impressive piece of meat, but we still been through a lot together. Don't know if I'm willing to chop it off."

"I'd love to tell you that's not true, but it more or less is," Daniil said. "Which is why I manufacture my own hormones and get my blood work done through means I can't discuss in front of anyone still in the Imperial Service, except for my husband."

"Ah," Maria said, smiling and relaxing a bit.

Still, Jaz felt obligated to point out, "Therapy isn't stupid."

Daniil sighed. "Jaz," she said. "Do you think there is any chance a therapist who accepts military benefits will actually know or care about informed consent?"

"Fair," Jaz said. "But in general."

"Yes, medical care you can trust is great," Daniil said, rolling her eyes. "This is not the planet, Jaz."

Arevin frowned at Jaz. "Wasn't it therapists who thought milady was brainwashed and tried to lock her up?"

Right, he knew about that. "Okay," Jaz said, holding zeir hands up in surrender, "so Gnillesian therapists are bad at war therapy and Kavagoran therapists are bad at gender therapy."

"Excuse me, when was this?" Daniil asked.

"After Vilvinudes," Jaz said. "My history lessons in school were mixed about if she was nuts or it was a star-crossed lovers thing, but these days they mostly agree she was right and they fucked up."

"'Mostly'," Maria said, rolling her eyes. "They been married since the week she got here!"

"Milord is still a [bogeyman] to many Gnillesians," Arevin said. Maria shook her head.

"Anyway," Daniil said, flapping a hand, "all that aside, the main reason to get blood work done is to make sure your liver and kidneys are processing everything okay and not getting overstressed. It's nice to monitor your actual estrogen and progesterone levels versus your testosterone, but since HRT has visible effects from the outside, it's not as medically necessary. So you can probably get the blood work covered at your clinic or the military hospital, especially if you have any other medications or history of drug use."

Maria snorted. "I was a grunt," she said. "'Course I got a history of drug use."

"That's what I was hoping," Daniil said brightly. "If you're not already monitoring your levels, it shouldn't be hard to get your docs to do it."

"I'm getting older, I gotta look after my health," Maria said, nodding.

"Exactly," Daniil said. "Surgery's a whole other thing I can't help with, because I'm not about to go to actual medical school, but that's also still a thing you want to wait on, right, Jaz?"

"Depending on the surgery, I think," Jaz said. "You don't want to get a boob job while your boobs are still coming in, but I think if you want to get rid of your gonads, you can do that whenever."

"Hmm," Daniil said. She leaned back in her chair. "I suppose the best options for surgeons who listen to you are going to be off-world."

"I assume," Jaz said. "Especially for you."

Daniil laughed. "I didn't think I'd find anyone here willing to do a PPV," she said. "But just now I was thinking about an orchie."

"Ah," Jaz said. "Yeah, I don't know. I know they can do pretty impressive trauma reconstructions here, but I have to assume they're more used to preserving testicles than getting rid of them."

"You could go to a vet for that," Maria said. "Still do it to horses and livestock all the time."

Daniil shook her head. "They'd be putting their license at risk," she said. "Especially since most veterinarians are still commoners. It wouldn't be worth it to do illegal surgery on me. Especially not now that I'm Lady Sardavin."

"Oh," Maria said, looking enlightened, "you're the Tamarov kid everyone thought was a fag who somehow seduced Lady Sveta's son."

Daniil laughed. "That is the sweetest way anyone has ever failed to recognize me," she said. "Yeah, I decided it was easier to avoid fighting my family about it when Yakov didn't mind everyone thinking he was gay for a few months. I'd actually started hormones more than a year earlier, and I was kind of wondering what it would take for them to notice." She drew a line under her boobs with one hand. "These were getting rather hard to hide."

"Besides, Danny is a fag who somehow seduced Yakov," Jaz said. "Although yeah, I'm sure already having the tits helped."

Daniil smiled, her cheeks dimpling. "He is a simple man, my Yakov," she said.

Maria stared at Daniil, like she needed to re-evaluate her. Eventually, she asked, "You can get me estrogen?" Daniil nodded. "What, just out of some kind of tranny sisterhood?"

Daniil shrugged. "You can think of it as a favor to Jaz, if you'd rather."

"I'd feel like I'm cheating you," Maria said. "Getting something for nothing."

Jaz nodded. "I'd offer to fuck her for it," ze said, "but I'd do that anyway."

"Blood, kid, how many people besides your husband are you fucking?"

Jaz shrugged. "It's normal back home to fuck your friends," ze said. "Sasha doesn't mind." Truthfully, Sasha rather liked it, but that was still something he wouldn't publicize widely.

"Don't worry," Daniil to Maria absently, "Sasha fucks other people too." She drummed her fingers on the table next to her plate. "Do you smoke?" she asked Maria.

"Yeah, but they're Imps," she said. "Doc told me those don't fuck with your heart as bad."

Daniil grinned. "Perfect," she said. "I mean, yes, if you smoked domestics, I'd strongly suggest you stop, but if you could hook me up with your supplier...? Or be a go-between. I'd appreciate it."

"So it ain't just black market hormones, huh?" Maria asked, smiling. "Yeah, I can do that."

"As much as I adore using Sardavin money to bribe people," Daniil said, "sometimes you don't want that kind of attention. Tusmoen cigarettes are a more manageable exchange rate in my circles anyway."

Maria laughed. "I bet," she said.

They exchanged com codes, and then Jaz excused Daniil and zemself, leaving Maria and Arevin alone at the kitchen table.

"Where the hell did you find her?" Daniil asked, giggling. "She is wonderful."

Jaz laughed. "She's a crusty old bitch," ze said. "Isn't she perfect? She had him working for it in the fight, too. I came across her on the street, beating up a bigot. She called him a faggot, then looked at me and said, 'No offense.'"

Daniil laughed. "Of course she did."

"So," Maria said when the kids left them. "You want to give it a go?"

"If you're not just humoring Arroyo," Arevin said.

Maria snorted again. "If a hot young slut like that says you're a good lay, I'll take that bet," she said. She grinned at him. "And I already know you got a good job. Sure, you'll hit a gal, but I can hit back."

Ma Eshman interrupted, "No funny business in my kitchen." She went around the table, collecting the plates and glasses. "Even if it is funny funny business. That's what the rest of the damn house is for."

"Yes, ma'am," Maria said reflexively, and found Arevin echoing her. They stood, and Maria followed him into the house proper.

As he led her to a narrow servant's stair, he murmured, "That woman's younger than me, and still makes me feel like I'm a misbehaving child."

Maria laughed. "A cook in her kitchen is higher'n the Emperor hisself," she quoted.

The bedroom he took her to was too small to be anything but a servant's room in a house like this, but it was nice. Neat, and clean. There were enough personal touches it didn't feel like a hotel room, but all it told you about the man who slept in it was that he had a child and an Imperial commendation, both of which were things Maria already knew. It was dominated by a large bed with nice bedding on it. Maria wondered if the kid had anything to do with that; ze was nice enough, but probably pretty prissy.

Arevin went and stood by the desk. Apparently they had more talking to do. Maria stayed near the door, more out of habit than any real concern. That, and there was nowhere to sit but the bed and the desk. After a moment, Arevin said, "I don't know how much Arroyo told you."

"You're easier to look up than most," Maria said. He didn't have an encylopedia page of his own, although he did have a pretty sizable section on Emil Petrov's. "But when I realized the kid was trying to hook me up with Petrov's attack dog, I did, you know, have an idea what I was getting into."

"Ah," Arevin said. After a moment, he added like it was a question, "You're still here."

Maria shrugged. "Twenty years ago, I might've bailed," she said. Though, twenty years ago she wouldn't have agreed to go back to a man's room for sex no matter who that man was. "But he let you babysit his kid, which I figure means that pardon wasn't only outta guilt. Besides," she said, a little more softly, "I did a tour on Ebatur, when I was fresh outta basic. And I'm not too proud of some of that."

He just looked at her for a moment, then huffed a little, tiny laugh. "Yeah," he said.

"So are we doing this thing, or do I gotta pick a fight to get you in the mood?" Maria asked.

He jerked his head toward the bed, so Maria shrugged out of her jacket, hung it on one of the hooks next to the door, and headed for it.

He immediately went for the hem of her shirt. Maria slapped his hands. "Shit, I know I ain't no lady," she said, "but I ain't a whore, neither. An ounce of fucking romance, please?"

He froze in place, looking up at her completely blankly.

The kid told Maria he was weird, and he seemed to have met Petrov through the infamous Boris Kasharik, so who knew what he thought sex was normally like. She hadn't found any information about who the mother of his daughter was anywhere, but the rumor mill fetched up an old tidbit about her being a whore's get, and it hadn't been hard to find out Arevin was himself a whore's son. "Sorry," she said, mentally kicking herself for letting her tongue run away with her. "Nothing wrong with whores. I just meant I'd like some kissing first."

"Oh," Arevin said. He kept staring at her, though. After an eternity where Maria wondered what the hell was wrong with wanting to be kissed, he said, "I've never done that."

"What?" she asked.

He cleared his throat. "I've never kissed a willing woman."

"Oh," Maria said. She settled her arms on his shoulders. "I can't imagine it's much different," she said. "And to be frank, it's the only part I don't got bad associations with myself, so I'd appreciate including it."

He set his hands on her hips, frowning a little. He looked so out of his depth, confronted with the idea of kissing her, especially compared to how unhesitating he'd been when they were fighting. Emperor help her, but it was kind of cute. She leaned in to do the hard part for him, lining up their mouths and trying to avoid being impaled on his giant beak of a nose. At first, it was like kissing a statue, but he relaxed after a moment.

He wasn't exactly a good kisser, having not done it for nearly thirty years (because she sure fucking hoped upstanding Regent-turned-Prime-Minister Petrov hadn't been letting him kiss unwilling women), but kissing wasn't 5-D math. His hands slid around to grab her ass, and that was pretty nice.

Maria hadn't really expected to enjoy kissing Arevin. She barely enjoyed kissing any of the people she kissed before, but there were a few key differences between that and this, such as her and him. She'd always before been kissing someone who thought she was a man, and that someone had always been a woman. It turned out that even being potentially attracted to someone made a difference when it came to kissing. Go figure.

Arevin pulled back. In an even rougher voice than his usual throat full of gravel, he asked, "Now can I take your clothes off?"

Maria's stomach flipped over. "Yes, please," she said, surprised at how fucking maidenly she sounded.

He undressed her efficiently, without comment, although he did duck in and kiss her in between steps. He also kissed her throat, her chest, and her stomach as he uncovered them. Maria had no idea if he would have done that before she asked for kissing, but she liked it either way.

He let her deal with her own underwear, which was just as well since her boobs were sticking to her chest. He undressed himself even more efficiently, and Maria had to admit, it did improve the view. His face was homely at best, but his body was a pretty damn good one. And he was partially hard already, which was flattering even if it was just a physical reaction to rolling around on the ground, talking about sex, then making out.

Maria thought she felt naked when she took out her boobs earlier, but that was nothing next to being actually naked in front of a man. She was self-conscious of fucking everything: her flat chest, the stubble on her cheeks and chest, the breadth of her shoulders. The Gnillesian kid had broad shoulders and narrow hips, but ze also had great tits and a trim little waist. Lady Sardavin was fat, but even if that big skirt made her look curvier than she was, she had big tits to go with it. Whereas Maria was a fucking scarecrow with long hair.

Arevin barely even looked at her once they were both naked; he shoved Maria back onto his bed and climbed on top of her. The bloody kid was right; feeling like he was taking her was going straight to Maria's head and dick. He ran his hands over her like he was mapping unfamiliar terrain. He grabbed her non-existent tits, which was embarrassing even though she liked it. Then he kissed her again.

He still wasn't a very good kisser, but he was enthusiastic. Maria found it difficult to doubt the sincerity of a man doing such a middling job with such gusto.

He ventured a kiss to her neck, which was scratchy with his stubble. It made Maria shiver, which was a new reaction. He took it as encouragement, and started all but gnawing on her. That was a little more like she'd expected, but it did surprise her how much she liked it. She found herself helplessly letting out little moans and gasps, like some damsel getting ravished in old-fashioned porn.

Arevin nibbled his way down her neck to her chest. He only licked and sucked at her nipples for a few seconds before she said, "Not there, it's depressing."

He grunted acknowledgement and moved down to her ribs, which hurt more but still somehow felt better. Then his mouth was on her stomach, her hips--such as they were--and she was rather looking forward to him getting to her thighs, which were surely biteable, but instead he pressed his lips to her dick.

She sucked in a sharp breath. "Shit," she said, "you don't gotta."

Arevin paused. He looked up at her, nearly expressionless. "Do you not want me to?" he asked.

"Did I say that?" she demanded. "If you're willing to, be my fucking guest, I only--oh, shit!"

He was better at sucking dick than he was at kissing, which Maria was going to hope had more to do with the Gnillesian kid than whatever Kasharik made him do. It certainly seemed like a less rusty skill.

He got her right up to the verge of orgasm, then stopped abruptly. Maria pounded her heels on his back. "You bastard," she said, "I was two seconds from coming!"

He shrugged. "Didn't know if you'd let me keep going after you finished."

"What, you think I can't take it?" Maria demanded. "Don't pretend you stopped fucking the kid after one orgasm."

"Arroyo has a cunt," Arevin said. "No refractory period." After a moment, he added, "Despite what ze might've said, I would like you to enjoy yourself."

Maria smiled. "Uh huh," she said. "C'mere."

Looking a bit bemused, he obeyed her beckoning gesture. He was obviously surprised when she kissed him. He was really not used to affection, huh? Maria was sure the kid was fun in bed, but even attack dogs wanted to be pet. Just because ze was already married was no excuse not to kiss a fuck-buddy.

Arevin kissed back more aggressively now. He was rock-hard against her, his dick hot and digging into the crease of her hip and leg. Maria had barely even done anything but let him touch her. He'd gotten like that just sucking her dick. Probably that had more to do with him than with her, but it was still nice. It made her feel sexier than any girl cooing over her arms or begging for her dick ever had.

"You gonna fuck me?" she mumbled, in between kisses. "It ain't the one you're used to, but I still got a hole to put your dick in."

He growled and bit her lip. "I have fucked plenty of women in the ass," he said. After a moment, he added, "And Arroyo."

"Then why aren't you?" Maria asked. "You got me all worked up and now you're not even doing anything about it." That wasn't true, he was rocking against her and still running his hands over her chest and sides. It wasn't exactly traditional sex, but she'd enjoyed herself well enough doing the same thing before. She guessed it would be even better with him.

He growled again, and moved to kiss her neck some more. That offered support for her guess; she couldn't help thrusting her hips up into him as he worried at her neck.

Eventually, he pulled away and rolled over to one side of the bed to pull open a nightstand drawer, from which he pulled lube and a condom.

"What's the raincoat for?" Maria asked. "I ain't gonna get pregnant."

He stopped what he was doing and looked at her. After a moment, he said, "Milady insists on them. Er," he blinked, evidently trying to recall the rationale behind a long-internalized order. "Disease prevention," he said finally.

"I guess," Maria said, although she guessed Baron Petrov's right hand man got tested and treated regular, while she had spent years practicing the best sexual hygiene of all: celibacy. But it'd also prevent an ass full of spunk, which she had not been particularly looking forward to experiencing if he finished inside her.

For a while, it seemed like the condom might be unnecessary. He spent so damn long fingering her she thought he must have gone soft, even though he somehow managed to keep her on edge the whole time. She hadn't given that much thought to this part before, except as a means to an end. Arevin may as well have been given special Imperial orders to finger her asshole for all the gravity and tenacity with which he approached the task.

She was once again on the brink of orgasm when he withdrew. "Swear to Mad Old Ivan I'm going to fucking kill you if you do that one more time," she said, craning her head up so she could see to aim her kick.

Instead, she saw him rolling a condom onto his dick, which didn't seem to have flagged at all that whole time. He looked up at her with dark eyes and said, "I won't."

Maria was reminded when he started pushing into her that his dick was bigger than anything she'd ever had inside her, so perhaps the length of time he spent fingering her wasn't wholly to torment her with an orgasm ever-out-of-reach. It was absurd, actually, that it could even fit in her. She wasn't sure there was room for any other thoughts in her head, let alone space in her body.

It was without question the best thing she'd ever felt in her life. She could not believe how much better it was than letting her girlfriends use their sex toys on her. Sure, it probably helped that she was the only woman involved in the equation, but tap-dancing zombie Emperor, this was a whole other experience.

He settled on top of her, cock buried in her up to her bloody guts, and kissed her again. Possibly he was a real quick study, or possibly Maria's standards had taken a nosedive owing to her complete preoccupation with her newfound calling as a sheath for this man's cock; it was fantastic, and she wrapped her arms around him in order to press as much of her body against his as possible.

Then he started moving.

"Oh fucking hell," Maria swore. "Shitting motherfucking bones, that feels good."

"Good," Arevin grunted.

"Oh, fuck," she said. "Blood. Fuck!"

Maria had no idea how long they went on like that. It felt like an age--the best bone-sworn age of her life--but knew from experience the actual dick-in-a-hole bit usually didn't go much longer than ten or fifteen minutes. She wouldn't have minded it lasting longer, that was for sure, even if she did feel like she couldn't breathe with Arevin's cock pushing all the air out of her lungs.

She had a wild orgasm, or possibly two nigh-simultaneous orgasms considering the order of events and how intense it was, and lost the ability to hang onto him. He paused. Maria patted his face, aiming for but not entirely landing on his cheek, and said, "If you wanna keep going, go ahead."

He grunted, and did.

Despite how thoroughly fucked-out and relaxed Maria was, she was starting to get a little uncomfortable right where, you know, her asshole was experiencing the greatest friction. Thankfully, as she started to contemplate saying something, Arevin slammed his cock into her one last time and gasped.

Once he went limp atop her, Maria said, "Bones, you're sweaty." She jostled him. "Come on, I don't want you laying on me just because you're the best lay I ever had."

He grumbled, reached down between them to pull out without losing the condom, and rolled off her. He disposed of the condom before asking, "Best you ever had?"

"Don't get too excited," Maria said, "my sample size is one."

He blinked at her, then asked, "You were a virgin?"

"Of fucking course not, I'm fifty-eight," Maria said. Bones, imagine if she'd gone all that time not getting laid at all. "But it was all, you know, with women. As a man. Or, trying to be a man," she said, even though that wasn't necessarily right either. "It wasn't very...I kind of checked out, you know?"

He nodded, jerkily.

"Yeah, I bet you do," Maria said softly. She expected there were a lot of folks who survived being around Boris Kasharik by checking out of what they were doing. "Anyway, they weren't really what I would call good times."

"But this was."

She grinned at him. "Very good," she said. "You wanna do it again sometime, I'd be real happy to oblige."

He looked at her for a moment before he said, "I'd like that."

>dam kid, you undersold it

>is sex sposed to be that good??? was i doin it rong???

>i mean i was, i was fuckin girls an kinda not there for it but holy SHIT

Jaz giggled. "What?" Daniil asked. Jaz angled zeir com so Daniil could read it. Daniil did so, then laughed. "Blood, really? I mean, good job, I guess."

"I guess I should have figured I was helping two people with weird sex baggage," Jaz said, sending Maria back an assortment of celebratory pictograms. "Not just one."

"Probably," Daniil said. "Most trans women on this planet are not going to have a long and storied career as a slutty townie."

"So sad," Jaz said, shaking zeir head.

#kavagor #maria ivanov #yuri arevin

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avatar-of-procrastination · 2 years ago

Note

Hcs for moonboys reacting to reader winning in a fight with some jerks? (Can be an argument fight or a physical fight u choose 👀)

Yes! So sorry this took so long~

Hope you liked this!

Warnings : mentions of creeps in bars, catcalling. Lmk if i missed any.

(English is not my first language. Please pardon any grammatical errors. Gifs not mine)

Steven: You were in the museum, waiting for Steven. He had just clocked out and shut down the gift store when Donna sauntered in, asking where he was going off. Steven stutered out that since his shift ended, he was going home. You noticed Donna yelling at him and you walked towards the pair. She started to shout at him to work overtime because he was 'a useless sod who basically did nothing all day'. Steven was clearly heartbroken so you stepped in. Donna knew you were his partner but didnt know what you did for a living. You started listing off all the offences Donna committed by treating her employee that way and mentioned the varying dehrees of charges that could be pressed against her. She backed off, apologizing when she found out that you were a lawyer. After getting out of the museum, Steven pulled you in close. "How did you do that? I know you're not a lawyer." "I spend half the day with Matt. I picked up on a few stuff." You winked.

Marc: You guys were coming back from a nice restaurant Marc had taken you to. It had been a long time since you guys got free time so the two of you tried to make the most out of it. You were wearing a beautiful dress Marc brought for you and were currently walking towards your apartment. A few rugged guys, clearly drunk of their ass were leaning against a wall. You ignored them and continued to walk on when one of them catcalled you. You held back Marc and tried to walk away, without causing a scene. One of them slurred, "Yeah Bitch. Keep you man down." Something snapped in you that made you walk back and slap the man across the face. Marc was immediately by your side and the others quickly scurried away. "Okay. I'll admit it, that was fucking hot."

Jake: Jake rarely got a chance to relax and spend time with you. So whenever he was free, he would make the time you spent, unforgettable. On this instance, he took you to a fancy club. After having danced for what felt like ages, you sat down at the bar, sipping your drink. You looked for Jake but couldnt find him among the sea of bodies bouncing around. A burly man came upto you. "Hey beautiful. Watcha doin' out here all alone?" You ignored him. "Hey I'm talking to you. Wanna get out of here? We can go somewhere more quiet." He leaned into you. You pushed him away, saying that you had absolutely no interest in him. "That's what they all say, honey." He whispered and ran his palms over your arms, and cupped your cheeks. You pushed him away once more and punched his face. "Ow! What the hell?" "I told you to stay away from me." Angered, he got up and grabbed your hand forcefully. You kicked him in his groin and felt an arm sneak around you. You turned to punch the other man when you realised it was Jake. "I'm sorry that I left you out of my sight, estrella. Want me to finish him?" He offers with a deadly smirk. "No I think I handled it. Can we just go home?" "Ofcourse mi amor. Home is good. But I don't think I'll be able to wait till we're there. Because hot damn you looked sexy when you beat the shit outta that guy."

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amjustagirl · 4 years ago

Text

Chapters: one. ~ two. ~ three. ~ four. ~ five. ~ six. ~ seven. ~ eight.

Wordcount: 2.9k

Summary: Being with Miya Atsumu is like chasing a storm - equal parts exhilaration and danger. After all, it’s impossible to tame a storm

Masterlist link here

AO3 link here

Author’s Note: And we’re at the final chapter! Thank you so much for going on this wild ride with me, and I’m rly excited to hear what you guys think - so please, drop me an ask, a note, a comment, anything!!!

It takes time and effort to rebuild a home wrecked by a storm, and reconstruction efforts aren’t necessarily smooth sailing, especially at the start - after all, he’s still the same Miya Atsumu, arrogant and brash and foulmouthed and hyper focused on volleyball, and they both have baggage from years of regret and pain to work through. But he has determination to spare, and she loves him too much for her own good, so they start from the very foundation and work their way up, step by step, one day at a time.

‘I’ll kill ya if ya ever hurt her again’, Osamu threatens darkly when she and Atsumu break the news to him.

‘Go find yer own girl and stop being sweet on my wife damn it! ’ Atsumu growls, but the kiss he presses to her forehead when she smacks the back of his head for being mean to his twin is achingly sweet.

‘Ugh, soppy. Get yer shit outta my house!’ Osamu scrunches his face in mock disgust.

Both brothers are surprised when she beats Atsumu at flipping Osamu off.

Atsumu moves back home (he’s not even going to hide how happy the sound of that makes him), and they mark the occasion by slipping his wedding ring back on his finger and eating take-out pizza on the living room floor.

Her burly brothers turn up on their doorstep with a glint in their eyes and too much teeth in their smiles, determined to drag Atsumu off for a couple of drinks and what she assumes will be a very unpleasant chat. She’d insisted on patting them down to make sure they’re not packing any knives - ‘what do you take us for, little sis’, they’d protested - but she’s not taking any chances, and begs Osamu to join them, ‘please ‘Samu, I don’t want to be a widow right after I decide not to divorce his ass’, and he agrees despite grumbling that he might as well be Atsumu’s glorified babysitter at this rate.

She’d woken up in bed the next morning to find the space beside her empty, but the living room crammed full of those four silly men. Atsumu and Osamu share a single futon between them, snoring back to back. There are faint bruises on Atsumu’s cheekbone and telltale scrapes on her own brothers’ knuckles, but otherwise they all seem relatively unscathed.

She bends over, tracing her thumb along the contour of Atsumu’s jaw, and he stirs, eyes half lidded with sleep.

‘Hey darlin', I’ve come home’, he tells her, warmth flickering in his smile.

‘Welcome home, 'Tsumu’, she says, tucking the blanket under his chin and he hums in contentment, falling back asleep.

His nightmares of brown envelopes and harsh neon lights distorting her face slowly fade, and he dreams instead of weeknight dinners and weekend picnics at the park, relishing the quiet domesticity of grocery trips and laundry loads, and delighting in home games with her and Shino cheering him on.

Some piss poor excuse of a gossip hound corners him after a match to ask him about whether he regrets leaving for Milan since his season ended in injury - and he freezes when the reporter slyly adds ‘especially since we all knew it’s a move that required you to leave your wife and daughter behind ‘. His manager is about to intervene when she sneaks up on him to slide an arm around his waist, apologising to the reporter that ‘she’s just so excited to give her husband a congratulatory kiss!’ .

Sakusa and Meian have to join forces to pull Atsumu back from punching the reporter when he grins shark-like, thinking he’s spotted easy prey and asks her whether she felt abandoned in Japan due to his move - ‘pardon me Miya-san for my unwieldy choice of words’.

‘Not at all’, she says without missing a beat, and Atsumu wonders if he imagines the flash of a knife in her smile. ‘I’ve always supported my husband in all his endeavours. It was a joint decision that I should stay in Japan to ensure our daughter has some stability in her life.'

‘She’s good’, his manager tells him when the reporter slinks away with his tail between his legs.

‘Yeah - I don’t deserve her’, he answers with a rueful smile.

When he tries to thank her that night, she levels him with a look that could knock a grown man (i.e. him) off his feet, but her voice is gentle and her words are soft.

‘Don’t thank me’, she says. ‘Just be a better husband and father, ok?’

He’s not ashamed to admit that he actually cries.

He learns to tell her he loves her at least once a day. She starts to smile back cheekily and reply ‘of course’.

The game is in between sets when the skin at the back of his neck crackles with nerves. From the corner of his eye, he catches a glimpse of Osamu sprinting right into the stands. Then his ears pick up on his little girl’s scream - ‘mama’ she cries, her shrill voice ringing above the confusion rippling through the crowd and his legs move of their own accord, leaping over the barrier into the audience, as he snarls and shoves his way to her usual spot.

He thought he’s had his fill of nightmares to last him a lifetime. He’s evidently wrong.

She lies crumpled on the ground, head resting on Osamu’s lap. Her lips are pale and her eyes are closed but thank god - thank whichever deity’s listening - her chest still moves with her breath. He’s not quite sure what happens next - he knows he dives to his knees and pulls her towards him but everything else is a blur until her eyes flutter open and she groans.

‘Darlin’, can ya hear me? Can ya tell me where you are?’ he asks, forcing his voice to remain calm.

‘Tsumu? Why are you here? Aren’t you in the middle of a game?’ she murmurs, confused.

‘Fuck the game’, he snaps. ‘Are ya feelin' ok?’

‘Something hurts, Tsumu’, she rasps, eyes glazing over. He can feel the chill of ice seep into his spine.

'Yer fine, yer fine, yer going to be fine' he mutters, over and over and over again, willing her to sit up and tell him she's fine, she's ok, she'll just shake it off - but light starts to shutter out of her eyes and frost creeps up his throat.

‘I need a medic!’ he shouts, voice cracking on every word. ‘I need a medic, now!’

‘Tsumu’, he hears his brother interrupt urgently. ‘Tsumu, she’s bleedin’.

He’s never been more grateful for Osamu when his twin turns to yell for an ambulance and yanks Shino away with him. The little girl is kicking and screaming for her mama but he knows she would kill him if he lets their little girl be traumatised from seeing her mama lying in a pool of blood on the floor.

He can’t breathe - not even when the medics finally come and whisk her off to the hospital, his mind hardly able to process anything, terror still coursing through his veins when the doctors press brown envelopes full of forms into his bloodstained hands for him to sign so the relevant procedures can be carried out.

‘Don’t!’ Osamu says sharply, when he drops his head into his hands and starts to whimper about how he’ll die if he loses her again and what the fuck is he gonna do, ‘Samu, if she doesn’t make it out alive – ‘she’s stronger than ya think, don’t ya dare give up on her like that’, and he promptly shuts up after that. Time in the waiting room passes agonizingly slow, seconds feeling like minutes, minutes stretching into hours, and he would have drowned from the weight of his despair if he weren’t anchored in place by his twin’s hand on his back.

His breath rushes back into his lungs when the doctors later tell him she’s fine, they carried out the standard operation - but she doesn’t look fine, doesn’t seem fine, is very clearly not fine when they wheel her out, huddled into a ball with her head between her knees, like her world has just collapsed into itself. She doesn’t even look up when he sits beside her, the bed dipping under his weight.

‘I’m sorry’, she eventually says, voice barely a whisper, and he fights the urge to break down into tears – because ‘Samu’s right, she’s so much stronger than he thinks. They'd been talking about trying for a sibling for Shino for some time now, since they've both grown up with brothers of their own and can't imagine life without them. But the doctors tell him that it’s just bad luck - the baby was never going to survive, and her collapse was probably exacerbated by stress, overwork, perhaps even fatigue from her skipping lunch for work and dinner to rush to his match.

‘Don’t be. It’s not yer fault at all’, he manages to pull himself together to reassure her, but she just stares blankly at the wall.

His grandmother calls when they find out the baby they lost would have been a boy, and he fails her again when he’s too late to snatch the phone away before the old lady’s poison drips into her ears and traps her in a deadly fog. He’d cursed the old bitch out relentlessly, but the toxic words fester beneath her skin and she fades into a ghost before his eyes. He desperately tries to stop her spiral into frozen silence, but he’s away for games more than half the time, hands tied behind his back by the stranglehold of contracts and commitments he has no choice but to fulfil.

He’s never been so thankful before when the season finally ends - but he is, at least this time, so he can talk her into taking two weeks off from work. They drop Shino off with her indulgent grandparents, and drift down the coast on the back of her bike. She doesn’t try breaking any speed limits - and he knows he should be happy about that, but there’s no spark in her eyes, no smile to answer the wind - there hasn’t been, not since she collapsed.

(not since they lost their child)

He buys her mochi at every town, but she picks at it listlessly, just like she does these days when Osamu tries to tempt her with his latest creations. He insists they stay at ryokans, traditional inns with onsens attached, hoping the heat from the water might chase the chill from her bones, but colour does not return to her cheeks. There are shadows beneath her eyes, and she seems to wilt under the vibrant red and gold of autumn leaves.

They go for a walk after dinner one night, tracing a path along the shore. He’d been talking non-stop the entire trip to mask the gaps left by her silence, but tonight he falls quiet, allowing the hum of the waves to wash over them. Her hand is cold in his, so he wraps his jacket around her shoulders and hopes the warmth from his body bleeds into hers.

She comes to a standstill, feet sinking in the sand, and tilts her head to face him.

‘Tsumu?’, she breathes, a question in her eyes.

‘I’m here’, he says, a prayer in his heart.

There is a lighthouse on the cliff just a few miles ahead, illuminating the shadows of the waves. The faintest reflection of light pools in her eyes, and he stills as she lifts her gaze to meet his.

‘I know’, she says, offering him the smallest of smiles.

He interlaces their fingers together firmly, and tugs her towards shelter, as a storm brews over the horizon.

That night she tucks her head under his chin, and he holds her until she falls asleep, cradled in his arms. He keeps slumber at bay by counting her breaths, and only falls asleep himself when the storm breaks.

'Why did I wake up to a blonde octopus wrapped around me', she mumbles, voice heavy with sleep.

'Nah. More like a seahorse, cos I'm not letting ya go, sweetheart', he replies, tightening his grip on her waist. 'Ya got a problem with that?'

Her only response is to burrow herself deeper into his chest.

'Guess not', he chuckles fondly, nuzzling his nose into her hair, hope blossoming anew in his heart.

Time turns their wounds into scars and they heal together, one breath at a time.

She stays away from their first few matches when the season begins again. The press is coerced into passing over reports of her collapse by the dual forces of the MSBY press machine and their legal team, but they are forced to ride out the gossip generated in internet forums by a fringe group of deranged fans. His teammates treat her like she’s made of glass - even Bokuto dials himself down a notch, all save for Shoyo, who slips her his mother’s number, telling her gently that the six year gap between him and Natsu wasn’t deliberate, and that she would find a sympathetic ear in the older woman.

He knew he was right to anoint Shoyo as his favourite wing spiker - not only does he fly high enough to answer the demand of every single one of his sets, but his sunniness drags her out of the fog into yoga classes and meditation practices, and slowly but surely he watches her bloom again. It’s a powerful combination - Shoyo-kun’s friendship and his mother’s gentle conversations, Osamu’s cooking and her love for Shino, capped with his determination to show her he loves her and prove that he’s here to stay.

‘It’s like Kintsugi’, she tells him, with a wide smile. ‘All of you poured gold into the cracks of my heart and made me whole again’.

The years pass.

Shino turns seven – a very respectable age for his very best girl, he tells her (I'm your only girl, Papa, Shino informs him archly), and obliges her demands of a bicycle in MSBY colours and volleyball lessons, forcing all his teammates to turn up for her birthday party, volleyball themed of course. The look of unadulterated joy on his princess’ face is worth every ounce of effort to put up with Sakusa’s complaints at having to turn up for a kiddie party full of loud noises and far too much candy, and the sweaty afternoons spent hand painting the bicycle black and gold.

The day Atsumu discovers his first white hair makes her thank her lucky stars that she’s immune to his nonsense by now, because the wailing and gnashing of teeth she has to put up with makes ‘Samu offer her his couch as refuge. She slaps tape and salonpas on his aches and pains, and points to the deepening lines on her face when he complains about his age.

‘Those lines aren’t wrinkles. If they’re caused by laughter, it doesn’t count’, he reasons laughingly. She’s left befuddled by his logic and shakes her head.

Meian Shugo retires, and Hinata throws a party to celebrate in his honour, cramming the entire MSBY team and assorted friends into his penthouse apartment on a rainy Saturday night. Osamu’s hired to cater the food but remains as a guest, shooting a smirk at him when Shoyo drags her off to dance during his favourite song, twin flames burning bright in the night.

‘A hundred yen for your thoughts?’ she asks, when Shoyo returns with her breathless but wreathed with smiles.

‘Was just wondering when you were gonna save a dance for this old man’, he teases.

‘Oh?’ she says with a laugh. ‘Thought you said your back hurt, and you didn’t want to move?’

‘Meh - I was hoping you’d forget that’, he says airily, then frowns when he notices there’s no drink in her hand.

‘Not drinking tonight, sweetheart?’, he asks, curling his fingers around her empty hand.

‘The doctor warned me not too’, she answers, her smile growing impossibly wider. He blinks in confusion when she leans on to her toes to whisper into his ear - then oh.

‘You’re pregnant?’ he repeats, unable to trust his ears, eyes filling with tears when she bites her lips and nods.

‘Are you happy, ‘Tsumu?’, she asks, her face alight with hope.

There is so much he wants to say to her, starting with thank you loving me enough to give me another chance all those years ago and ending with I love you, so ridiculously much – because he can never say it enough, she’s given him more than he deserves – her heart, Shino, a happy home and now the promise of another child.

But there's salt and water welling up in his throat, and it’s all he can do to choke out a shaky ‘of course’, before gathering her in his arms, warmth pooling in his eyes, love overflowing in his heart.

They stay that way for most of the night, entwined in each other’s arms, so drunk on happiness and love and warmth that they don’t even notice the storm clearing and the moon rising in the clear night sky.

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#hq #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #hq imagines #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu writing #hq writing #haikyuu angst #haikyuu romance #haikyuu fluff #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x y/n #atsumu x reader #miya atsumu #miya osamu #inarizaki #haikyuucreations

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maddogofshimano · 3 years ago

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Apology Ring: Rikiya Scratcher Event

A new Rikiya event! I was very excited about what nonsense this one would be and it did not disappoint.

I couldn’t tell you why Kuze’s a reward, but I sure did get 6 of him, so I can’t complain. Let’s get started!

Summary: While Rikiya has come to adore Kiryu as his aniki, Haruka is still cold and distant towards him. In his desperation to win back her favor, he learns that Haruka’s after a prize from the scratcher event happening at the local grocery store, and is determined to win it for her no matter the cost

2008 Shimabukuro Rikiya had been charmed by Kiryu Kazuma, and his yearning to have him as his aniki has led to him often visiting Morning Glory.

Rikiya: Aniki! Let's go get drinks together! Standing by for your answer!

Kiryu: Rikiya...... I already gave you an answer earlier. I'm busy today. You should get back to work. <Kiryu walks away> Rikiya: W-Wait for me anikiiii~!

Rikiya: Haaa.... Alone again..... Though, that's just one of the things that makes him so cool. (Tl note: overwhelmingly tempted to use the "attractive/good looking/handsome" meanings on かっこいい instead of cool lol) Rikiya: ....Oh? Haruka: Ah..... Rikiya-san. Good afternoon. ...............Bye. <She leaves>

Rikiya: Ah, Haruka-chan.... Rikiya: She sure didn't look happy to see me... Guess she still hates me.

Rikiya: Well... I guess being hated by her can't be helped. She was real scared I was going to evict everyone in Morning Glory after all... Rikiya: Kiryu no aniki swore an oath of brotherhood though... So I can't just leave things like this. Rikiya: If I apologize from the bottom of my heart, maybe Haruka-chan will forgive me... Rikiya: .........Hn? Koji: I want to get Haruka a gift for always working so hard, but I can't think of a single thing to get her.... Koji: Have you thought of anything Taichi? Taichi: I got this! Isn't this rock pretty? I found it out on the beach! Koji: ....A rock, huh. Well, Haruka will still be thrilled to get it. Now what am I gonna do.... Taichi: What about the scratchers down at the shopping center? Koji: Scratchers? What's that? Taichi: Haruka said she wanted to the prize from them, and wouldn't doing scratchers be fun? Koji: No way. I don't trust that it won't be a total bust. Taichi: But think about how happy she'd be. Rikiya: ....Scratchers at the shopping center? Hmm, come to think of it I was supposed to go to the super market. Rikiya: ......If I can get that thing Haruka-chan wants, she might forgive me, so it's worth a shot. Rikiya: With a little bit of luck and money, let's take a gamble on scratchers! <He runs downtown> Manager: Hey welcome! Right now we're running a scratcher campaign~.

Manager: The top prize, a trip to Tokyo, has already been claimed, but we still have a ring from a brand that's very popular with women, a coffee maker, an electric razor, and a 100kg of rice among the fabulous prizes jostling around! You can't miss this opportunity! Rikiya: (.....The only thing he listed that a girl her age would want is that ring. That must be what Haruka-chan is after!) Rikiya: Sir! Give me a scratcher! Manager: Ah, Rikiya-kun. Ready to have some fun? One entry for every 1,000 yen you spend at the store! <scratching noises> Manager: Annnnd... no luck. For the bottom prize, here's your free pack of pocket tissues. Rikiya: Damn... Totally drained, huh. I really don't have any more cash to blow on scratchers. Manager: That's a shame, Rikiya-kun. I'll be here with the scratchers for a while longer if you change your mind and want to try again. Rikiya: ....Say, mister. I really just gotta get my hands on that ring. Is there any way we could make that happen? Rikiya: ....I beg you! Truly!! Manager: No, and the answer stays no no matter how many times you ask~. Manager: Right now the odds are stacked in the customer's favor with how many scratchers have been pulled, so good luck. Rikiya: ....Man, that's really how it is, huh. I getcha... Gimme a bit to scrape up some cash. <Rikiya leaves, makes a phonecall> Rikiya: ....I'm all out. Mikio's broke too. I guess I could try getting a loan.... hmmmmm.....

Rikiya: What am I gonna do... My plan to show my sincere apologies to Haruka with that ring is turning out to be a huge bust. Rikiya: I gotta get more cash to do pulls with... If only there was some way to do free pulls...... (Tl note: Rikiya is the prime target for gatcha games) <he moves on> Rikiya: ....I ended up walking all the way around Ryukyu without getting a single idea. What am I gonna do.... Hm? Blond Chinpira A: Hehehe, look at all these scratchers. I'm a almost afraid I'll get sick of doing scratchers from this.

Blond Chinpira B: Mhm~! Hey, did ya see that employee's face? He was so scared, it was hilarious! Hehehe. <they leave> Rikiya: ....What were those bastards up to? <Rikiya returns to the store> Rikiya: !? Manager: Uughh.... Rikiya: Hey, hey..... you're not looking good. All your merch has been scattered and all the shelves are all smashed up....

Rikiya: What the heck happened while I was gone? Manager: Ah, Rikiya-kun... The truth is.... some blond haired chinpira came and stole all the scratchers..... Rikiya: Blond haired chinpira...? You mean those assholes just a minute ago did this? Manager: When they found out the top prize had already been claimed... they flew into a rage and started smashing things.... Manager: They stole all the scratchers and remaining prizes and said "You better have that top prize restocked by the time we're back".... Rikiya: What the hell? Manager: I don't know if the police could do anything, and I have no idea how I could get another trip to Tokyo lined up..... Manager: Rikiya-kun, I'm sorry. I really did want you to have fun with this scratcher campaign... Manager: Haa... I started this up intending to give back to my regulars... but now it's going to end like this... I guess it can't be helped. Rikiya: ..........It's just like you to still be thinking about your customers. Even at a time like this they're the ones you're worried about.... Rikiya: ...Sir, I'm going to crush those assholes. I swear it. Manager: Eh? Rikiya: I can't stand cowardly civilians like that. ....So I'm gonna kick their asses. Rikiya: While I'm at it I'll get back all the scratchers and all the prizes and return them to you. Manager: R-Rikiya-kun.... but.... Rikiya: Don't worry about it. This is my job as a member of the Ryudo Family. My boss would yell at me if I turned a blind eye to this. Rikiya: So, I'm off! <Rikiya leaves> Manager: Rikiya-kun..... <EVENT START>

Blonde Chinpira A: Ughhh......

Rikiya: ......Hand over the scratchers and the prizes.

Blonde Chinpira A: W-Who the fuck are you....

Rikiya: Ryudo family captain, Shimabukuro Rikiya. Chinpira: R-....Ryudo Family!? Y-You're... a professional....... Rikiya: ......We good? I don't think ya want this again.

Rikiya: If I ever hear that you're causing problems for that shop again then I'm going to silence you myself!!!! Chinpira: I-I got it.... it won't happen again. <back at the store> Rikiya: There you are, manager. The scratchers and the prizes. With this, you should be able to continue your campaign, right? Manager: R-Rikiya-kun...... Rikiya: I really nailed those shitheads, so you shouldn't need to worry about them coming after you for revenge. Rikiya: Of course if they do show up, just give me a ring. I'll handle 'em for you. Any time you need. Manager: Th-Thank you Rikiya-kun.... What can I ever do to repay you...... Rikiya: Don't sweat it. This is just the job of a member of the Ryudo Family. <Rikiya begins walking away> Manager: Ah, Rikiya-kun! Rikiya: ......I'm up shit creek here. What about Haruka-chan's present....

Rikiya: What am I gonna do..... I'm outta cash......... I got it. I'm sure I got some pachinko balls tucked away.... ???: Rikiya-kun! <manager runs up> Rikiya: Manager? Manager: Ha... Ha.... This.... I wanted to give this to you. Rikiya: This is..... the ring that was one of the scratcher prizes!? Manager: Yep. You said you wanted it. So I figured to repay you somewhere... I'd like to give this to you. Rikiya: Manager..... But isn't this a real major prize? Manager: It's fine. Without you the scratcher campaign wouldn't have continued at all. Manager: Oh, are you turning this down? I know this doesn't remotely make up for everything you did, and I'm truly sorry. Rikiya: ....I ain't turning it down! Thank you, manager! Manager: Hehe, that makes me glad to hear. Well, I'm heading back to the store now. See ya. <Manager leaves> Rikiya: Hell yes... Now I can give this to Haruka-chan as an apology! Rikiya: Finally we'll be able to wrap this whole thing up and move past things with one big gesture! Rikiya: Wait for me! Haruka-chan! <Rikiya runs off> Rikiya: .......Pardon my intrusion.

Haruka: Ah...... Rikiya-san.

Rikiya: (....She's still so distant. Guess she still doesn't like me one bit....) Kiryu: What is it? Rikiya. I can't get drinks with you today. Rikiya: Nah, I'm actually here for Haruka-chan this time. Kiryu: To see Haruka? Rikiya: Yes... Um, Haruka-chan. I actually have something to give to you. Haruka: Something to give to... me? Rikiya: Here, this. It's some kind of ring from a famous brand. Haruka-chan, this was that thing you wanted, right? Haruka: Eh!?

Kiryu: A ring? What's this about Haruka?

Haruka: N-.... No. I, don't really like rings...

Rikiya: Right. As soon as I heard you wanted this I rushed out frantically to-........ Rikiya: .......Eh!!??

Rikiya: What do you mean, you don't really like rings...... But.... Isn't this the ring you said you wanted? Haruka: ...N-No. I don't remember ever saying I wanted that..... Rikiya: That's.... B-But, you wanted one of the prizes from the scratchers....... Haruka: Scratchers.....? Oh, of course.... Rikiya: Of course....? Haruka: I wanted the rice so that everyone could have it to eat. Is that what you were thinking of? Rikiya: R-Rice!!?? <flashback to the manager talking about all the prizes they had> Rikiya: The thing that Haruka-chan actually wanted..... was the 100kg of rice.......... Rikiya: I was so sure it was the ring.... Seriously, man......... Haruka: I-I'm so sorry. Kiryu: ....Say, Rikiya. What's with the sudden present? Haruka's birthday's still a ways off, right? Rikiya: .........I wanted to give it to Haruka-chan as an apology. Kiryu: ....Apology? Rikiya: Yes. When I came to Morning Glory and threatened to evict everyone, for kids that have nowhere else to go, wouldn't that have been terrifying? Rikiya: Since then, Haruka's hated me. But I wanted to earn Haruka's forgiveness... Rikiya: That's why.... I thought I could give her that ring as an earnest apology. Rikiya: But then I went and got her something she didn't even want, so instead of being happy she's bothered by it... I really am a fool, huh. (Tl note: we might not have gotten to hear Rikiya sing bakamitai but he did at least say the phrase here lol) Haruka: .....Rikiya-san. Even though I never said I wanted it..... I really am happy to get it. Rikiya: ....That's sweet of you to say, Haruka-chan. But you don't have to lie like that to me.... Haruka: No, it's true. Rikiya-san, you picked out that ring to give me because you thought it'd make me happy, right? Haruka: The fact that you were thinking about me like that and working so hard to make me happy, well, how could I not be! Rikiya: Haruka-chan.....

Haruka: Really though.... I don't hate you, okay? Rikiya: Eh? Haruka: I... think you're a good person, Rikiya-san. So I don't have a reason to dislike you. Rikiya: Wait, but... Earlier when you saw my mug you looked real upset and ran off immediately, didn't you? Haruka: That was... sorry... I think I was trying to hold in a sneeze. Rikiya: .......a sneeze? Haruka: Right. Honestly I was dealing with a cold earlier.... I didn't want to get you sick, so I was trying really hard not to sneeze..... Rikiya: --Which explains why you were keeping your distance..... What the hell. Have I just been totally overthinking this........ Kiryu: ...Heh, I'm glad for you Rikiya. Your worries were misplaced, and this is all settled now. Rikiya: A-Anikiii.... Haruka-chan's.... a good kid....... Rikiya: I horribly threaten her and she doesn't hate me...... I don't even get her the present she wants and she's still thrilled..... Rikiya: Even if it was my job to scare her.... She's... She's such a good kid, that Haruka-chan.... <Rikiya drops to the ground> Rikiya: I'M SO SO SORRYYYYYYYYYY!!!!

Haruka: R-Rikiya-san!? Kiryu: H-Hey. Rikiya, quit grovelling!

Rikiya kept his head bowed in apology for a long time, until Kiryu and Haruka were both troubled by the excessiveness.

Bonus stuff:

I was so sure Haruka wanted to trip to Tokyo to give to Kiryu so that he could go visit. The rice was my second guess, but I was so ready for the emotional pain. Shout outs to @agentshilonglang for correctly guessing it though!

This one wasn’t as long or a fraction as difficult to translate as the previous Rikiya board game event, but I am thrilled to have more Rikiya content. This card also has a new character story, and I pulled it so I’ll get that translated sometime soon-ish! I’m actually thinking of holding a poll on which story to do next when I hit 300 followers.

Finally this was the song that played on the main page of the event, tho they skipped the intro portion:

youtube

#rggo #ryu ga gotoku #ryu ga gotoku online #yakuza #Rikiya #rikiya shimabukuro #Haruka #Kiryu

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razrbladekiss · 3 years ago

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Tyrants | Chapter Three - Presage

WORD COUNT: 2.4k

WARNINGS: Brief mentions of Wendy’s drug use. Nothing explicitly *bad* goes on here, just some of the usual SOA shit is hinted at. :) Tig <3

MASTERLIST

Ninety degrees was horrendous. Ninety-six degrees saw Isla spiraling toward a fully-fledged mental breakdown, desperate to climb out of her own fucking flesh and melt into the parking lot outside of St. Thomas.

Seeing the Sons sporting leathers, hoodies, and long-sleeved shirts underneath their cuts made her skin crawl, too.

She'd thrown on the flounciest summer dress she owned, thin and wispy, and she was still roasting to death underneath the Californian sunshine.

It felt like they were living in the fucking ass-crack of hell.

Though, with their current state and Charming's infestation of ATF and other federal agents, hell wasn't too far off the mark.

"Thanks for the ride." Isla expressed her gratitude as she slid off of the back of Tig's bike, pulling the helmet away from loose blonde curls.

"No problem, baby--you good to get home, yeah?"

"Yeah. I'm meeting Gem here, so she'll take me back to T M in time to pick my car up," she confirmed, readjusting herself.

She couldn't risk Tig Trager getting an eyeful of her asscheeks today. Not again, anyway.

"Perfect. See 'ya later, beautiful." Isla leaned in for him to peck her cheek--which was habitual for the pair--and she did the same.

Her smile was wide. She was beaming. "Bye, Tiggy. I love you."

"Love you too, kid." He reciprocated the smile, squeezing her hand as she broke away and padded toward the steps, brushing her fingers through wind-tousled strands.

Things were, for the first time in about a week, finally looking up. Resuming a sense of normality, perhaps.

She and Trager had been on precarious terms since that day, and had been avoiding one another altogether. Which, for them, was strange.

Days went by without even so much as a word being uttered between the pair, no backhanded comments, or even sideways glances.

Usually, they'd be bickering like kids, arguing nonsensically until Clay or Chibs broke them apart--but it was all just their little bit of fun. Because they bounced off of one another.

They lauded the relationship they shared because, really, it was one of the strongest.

He'd been her official favorite since the very day that they met--he and Bobby were the two she liked to talk to whenever she felt that she couldn't confide in her father.

But the last few days were so fucking hard. She was struggling with the weight of all that she did, coupled with the stress of not being able to discern Tig's current feelings on her.

And after she'd lashed out, had bitched at him for no fucking reason, she was pretty certain that Tiggy didn't want to know anymore.

That was thrown out of the window this morning, however, when Isla's clutch blew out, and she needed a ride from the garage to the hospital to see Abel.

Of course Tig was there for her. He always would be.

"Hey." Isla spoke softly as she held the little blue bear close to her chest. "I stopped by the gift shop on the way up here--Jax said he's already got bears and balloons comin' outta his ass, so I thought what's one more?"

Gemma couldn't help but smile, gesturing for the blonde to sit with her opposite Abel's isolette.

"He'll love you for it," she joked, though she knew that she was appreciative. For her company more so the stuffed animal.

With their commitment to the club and the current battle against the ATF, Jax and Clay weren't as hands on as what they usually would've liked.

Of course, Teller was at that baby's side whenever he got the chance to break away from SAMCRO, but he wanted more. He wanted the satisfaction of knowing that his little boy was being provided with the best possible care at St. Thomas.

And he was. He absolutely was. But he needed to know--for his own peace of mind, he needed to see that. So, his mother was there every waking fucking moment, giving him that love he could only get from his Grandma.

"How's he doing?" Her query was braided around a whisper, worried she'd disturb Abel's peaceful rest. "Jax said he should be coming home soon."

Gemma simply affirmed with a nod, gazing affectionately at her grandson.

It was heartwarming to see so much love, so much adoration from a woman who had a reputation for being a fucking cunt--thus proving that Gemma's main priority was her family, and their health and happiness.

That, somehow, made Isla love her even more than what she already did.

It also made her a tad jealous of Jax and the fact that he still had his mother in his life.

"He's gettin' stronger and stronger everyday. Tara said he'll be set to leave Friday--"

"Tara?" Her brow lifted as she put the bear amongst the pile of gifts. "I thought she was a doctor, I didn't think she had anything to do with the babies?"

Gemma's smile faltered a little. "She's a pediatric surgeon. Been takin' care of Abel since the start."

"Oh."

Now, she would've known that if she'd taken the time to visit her best friend's kid since he was born. But she hadn't--she hadn't even considered taking a trip over to St. Thomas to check in on Jax's baby.

And it was for the simple fucking reason that she couldn't bear the thought of facing Wendy and having to be nice to her. Especially after what she fucking did to that poor little boy.

She subsequently landed her own flesh and blood in the hospital after shooting heroin while pregnant? And she wanted Jax to pardon her for it?

Isla wasn't a hateful person, she didn't care about what people did in their spare time because that was their time.

But the moment an innocent person was harmed due to the carelessness of others...That was when she felt a scathing animosity.

"She's good with him." Gemma stated bitterly, snapping Isla from her ire-fueled daydream. "Kills me to say it, but she's a gem. A real fuckin' star."

"I'd bet. She was always good with kids."

"Yeah?" Suddenly interested, the older woman crossed over her arms. "Who's kids?"

Finally, Isla took a seat beside her on top of plush blue leather.

"A few of the girls we were in high school with had kids pretty young and Tara was usually super keen to hold them, or just hang out at their places whenever we weren't at school. Or it could've just been the wannabe doctor in her, now that I think about it."

"She's pretty maternal," Isla hummed in agreement, "but I'm glad she and Jax never had kids when you were teenagers--I don't know how that would've looked for him."

Suddenly, she was staring at Gemma like she had two fucking heads.

"I don't trust her." She elaborated, drawing another confused glance from Isla. "She and Jax would have been a fucking disaster had she stayed--"

"And things worked out so much better with Wendy?" A little more vehemently than intended, the blonde asked.

Now Gemma was the one shooting dirty looks.

"Look, Gem, I'm just saying. Jax and Tara are history now, yeah? You don't have to trust her. Just thank her for what she's doing for your grandson because when he's outta this place, you won't need to worry about her."

"And you're so sure about that, huh?" Skeptically, she asked. Arms folded over. "You know what they're like--like two fucking magnets or something. They always find a way back to one another."

That line gutted her.

It hurt her--it was agonizing--but she wasn't sure why she was so beaten by it. Because it was the truth, wasn't it?

Tara and Jax were, at one point, the strongest couple she'd ever known, and when it fizzled out he was fucking broken. She hadn't seen him so downtrodden since JT had passed, and he was suddenly left without the strength and guidance of his father.

She was his everything. Isla was a fool to think he'd be able to see her back in Charming and not feel something for her. His first love.

"I think we should throw Abel a homecoming party on Friday--if he's coming home then, that is." Gemma shifted the topic of conversation, getting to her feet.

"Absolutely. I'll help."

"Yeah?" She asked a little doubtingly, reaching over to pick Abel up. "You don't have to--I know you work Friday's."

Isla waved her off, standing beside the brunette. "I do, but it's no bother. If everyone's gonna be there, then I wanna show my face too. Offer a helping hand of some sort."

"Alright, perfect," Gem stated softly, holding the baby close to her chest. "When we get back to T M, we can figure out what we need to get."

"Sounds like a plan--" Isla was cut off by a soft knocking at the door, irritating her a little bit because she'd only just gotten there and hated the idea of having to leave already.

She made a mental note to stop by a little earlier tomorrow.

"Hey, sorry to bother you--" Tara stopped herself when she needed her estranged friend, almost dropping the clipboard she was holding against her chest.

Isla Telford was the last fucking person she expected to see today.

"Hey," with a fake smile, she greeted.

The tension was palpable.

Gemma felt the irritation washing over her favorite of the duo, urging her to turn her attention back toward her grandson before she said anything to worsen the situation.

Because she would've.

"Uh, I've gotta run a few tests on Abel before we determine that he'll be ready to leave this week, if that's alright?" Tara gestured to Gemma, ignoring Isla's presence.

That stung a little bit.

"Yeah. It's fine." The response was blunt. Terse, to a point.

"Great."

Isla realized that she wasn't wanted in that space any longer. She grabbed her purse, turning toward the door. "I'll meet you outside."

"Yeah, alright," Gemma put the baby back into his crib, smiling at Isla. "You want my keys?"

"I'll wait on the steps--I'm gonna smoke--"

"Before you go," Tara cut in. She cleared her throat, trying to smile--but she just couldn't.

Telford sensed where it was going, however. There wasn't a reason for her to stop Isla in her tracks, in front of Gemma no less.

She wondered how long it'd take for it to be brought up.

"Thanks."

Gratitude genuinely swept over the doctor, letting Isla know she was truthful in her acknowledgment--or, was it more like a form of praise? Because Jax definitely told Tara what they both did for her, and she was astounded that the woman would even float the idea of helping out.

It was a strange notion. To know what she did--when she looked and acted like that--was fucking weird. And nobody would've believed her if she said that Isla helped to dispose of a dead body, which did make her laugh a little.

She knew how to hold, load, and fire a pistol, but she wasn't capable of committing the unspeakable the same way that Jax, or Chibs, or Clay were capable of it.

But she was slowly earning her title as 'Daughter of Sgt. At Arms/ Man of Mayhem.' And she wasn't sure how she liked that.

"You're welcome," she spoke plainly. "Hope everything is alright now, Tara."

"It is."

"Good." Her retort was immediate, laced with that same genuineness the other woman expressed. "You free this coming friday?"

Hesitantly, she nodded.

"If all goes to plan--and Abel is good to come home--we're gonna throw a little party for the boy," Gemma confirmed with a nod. "You wanna swing by? Everyone'll be there--Donna, Ope, their kids, Wendy, the rest of the Sons. You should come. It'll be nice for everyone to see 'ya again."

Wendy's name falling from those pink lips, in such a positive light, maimed Isla. She and Jax were starting to get along a little bit better now, but she was still wary of that woman.

"Yeah. It'll be great," the older woman added.

Tara felt cornered. She knew that she wasn't really wanted, and she also knew that was a way for Isla and her menopausal best friend--old enough to be her fuckin' mom--to keep the doctor as close as possible without explicitly saying that they wanted to keep an eye on her.

"Sure. I'll stop by."

"Brilliant." Gemma conceded, slipping past the pair. "Address hasn't changed, sweetheart."

It was passive aggressive, sickly-sweet, and it was Gemma to a fucking T. The woman was loathing every second she had to spend with Tara Knowles and she wasn't even trying to hide it.

But it didn't have to be for very long, she thought.

"What was that all about? Why'd she thank you?" Gem queried as they got outside, passing the lighter to her left.

"For not breaking her fucking neck when I had the chance to all those years ago, probably."

Isla sparked her cigarette, pacing alongside her as they headed toward the car.

"That's bullshit."

"How so?"

"Just is." She could read Chibs's little girl like a fucking book. "But I won't press--if it's something between you and Tara, I don't care to hear. Just lemme know if it goes south. I can put a bullet in her for you, baby."

Isla would've laughed had she not known that Gemma was deadly fucking serious about blowing Tara's brains out.

But it was a relief. For her to give it up just like that--uncharacteristically so--was a kind of relief that she never thought she'd feel from Gemma Teller.

She was used to being protected. Used to being viewed as the one that needed to be shielded from the horrors that shrouded the Sons. But Isla wasn't innocent, nor was she fucking stupid.

The security was appreciated, however. Because, lately, things just didn't seem to be going too great for her.

And, if she'd learned anything, they'd only worsen from here on out.

"You don't have to go full mama bear mode, Gem. I'm a big girl."

She laughed, turning to face Isla.

"I know," smoke blew from her nose, "but you've gotta protect the ones you wanna keep close, y'know? The ones you love."

The tip of Gemma's boot pulverized her cigarette into the sidewalk as she fished for the car keys, avoiding eye contact all together.

"I haven't been able to protect everyone I've wanted to from the shit that goes on in this town, honey, but I'm really tryin'. And I couldn't live with myself if anything happened to you or my boy."

#tig trager #tig trager fic #tig trager fanfiction #sons of anarchy fic #sons of anarchy fanfiction #sons of anarchy fandom #jax teller x oc #sons of anarchy #jax teller fanfiction #jax teller

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callmeoops · 2 years ago

Text

Light in the Dark - Chapter Eighteen

Warnings: kinky time implied (no smut, I feel like I’m not a good smut writer. That may come later if I get some confidence lol), Dixon Potty Mouth

.--.

“Guys, he’s bleeding out!” Olivia panicked. She tried to keep pressure on Hershel’s knee, but her hands were small, and she wasn’t sure she was effectively cutting off the blood supply.

Rick, Maggie, and Olivia worked on Hershel while Daryl talked to the five prisoners who’d been hiding out in the pantry.

“I got a cart!” Glenn announced as he came back with food service cart. Olivia sighed to herself, better than nothing.

Glenn and Rick took to Hershel, so Olivia went to help T with the door. The walkers sounded quieter, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything.

Olivia nodded to T when she was ready, knife raised in her hand. He pulled the bar from the door and a walker in riot gear stumbled in. She pushed it backwards against the other door then readjusted the grip on her knife so she could go up the helmet. Olivia followed the group, T and Daryl right behind her.

They heard the voices of the prisoners following them out but that was a problem for later. Carl unlocked the door for them, and they pushed Hershel into the closest cell.

Olivia dropped off to give the group more room to work. She had no formal medical training and hadn’t been learning from Hershel like Carol had been. It was best if she stayed out of the way.

“Holy shit.” She whispered, causing Daryl’s eyebrows to shoot up.

“Damn girl, leave ya alone for 5 seconds and ya go all feisty on me.”

Olivia had a sassy, slightly suggestive, retort for him, but never got the chance to say it.

The prisoners walked through the door, slowly filing in. Daryl kept his crossbow trained on them as they entered, clearly not enjoying the fact that they followed them, “S’far enough.”

“Cell block C, cell four, that’s mine Gringo. Let me in.” Olivia wasn’t liking the guy with long hair. He seemed like he could be violent, forcefully taking what he thought to be his.

“Today’s your lucky day, fellas. You’ve been pardoned by the state of Georgia. You’re free to go.” Daryl told them, still not lowering his crossbow.

The guy nodded towards the door, “Whatcha got goin’ on in there?”

“None of your concern.”

And just like Olivia predicted, the guy got defensive, taking his weapon out, “Don’t tell me what’s my concern.”

Daryl stepped forward, putting himself in front of Olivia. She took her weapon out as well, ready to cover Daryl if needed.

“Ahh, protectin’ what’s yours huh?” The man stepped to the side so he could see Olivia, “Saw her take out that thing in there. Sexy and strong. Jus’ my type.”

“Man, you bes’ watch yer damn mouth ‘fore I come over there and bust yer face in.” Daryl yelled. He repositioned himself to keep Olivia from the man’s gaze.

One of the other guys interjected, “Man, he said we’re free. What are we still doin’ here? I gotta go check on my old lady.”

“Group of civilians breaking in here, sounds like there’s no place for us to go.” The gunman retorted.

“Why don’t ya go find out.” Daryl nudged his crossbow towards the door.

“We ain’t leavin’!” The long-haired man yelled.

T came into the room, a gun pointed at the prisoner’s head, “You ain’t comin’ in neither.”

The guy rounded on T and the pair started arguing with each other. Daryl backed up until he was right up against Oliva, “Get outta here.”

She couldn’t tell if he was talking to her or the prisoners, but either way she wasn’t leaving Daryl and T to fight the five. Only one of them had a gun that they knew of, but she wasn’t taking that chance.

He looked back at her, his face hard. “Go.”

Olivia sighed, leaning forward, “I’m not leaving you. Get over it.” She stepped around Daryl, walking closer to the yelling men, “Hey! Listen! We got more people and more fucking weapons then all your dumb asses combined. Take your lives while you got them and get the hell out.”

A couple of the prisoners rose eyebrows. The gunman pointed at Olivia, “Bitch you got some fucking nerve talking to me like that.”

“And you have some fucking nerve pointing a gun at a girl who helped a man chop off another man’s leg.” Olivia gestured behind her with the arm that wasn’t holding her gun, “And we like that guy. Think about what we’ll do to some punk-ass ‘tough guy’ we don’t give a shit about.”

“Yeah, why don’t you come over here and try, bitch! I’ll fuck you up while your little white trash boyfriend watches.”

Daryl growled, stepping forward so he was next to Olivia again, “You even think again ‘bout touchin’ her and I’ll put a damn bolt in yer head right now.”

“Hey, relax!” Rick boomed, stepping into the room with them. “There’s no need for this!”

“How many you got in there? This bitch lying to us?” The gunman asked Rick.

Rick never broke eye contact, eyes hardened, “Too many for you to handle.”

“What’d you do rob a bank? Why don’t you take him to a hospital?”

Olivia looked at Daryl, frowning. A hospital? Did they really not know what was going on outside in the world?

Rick and T let the prisoners lead the way to show them the outside. Daryl hung back with Olivia for a second so they could talk.

He looked upset with her, probably for stepping up and arguing with the guy. He’d wanted her to go back to the cell block and not even be involved. She’d kind of done the complete opposite.

“You going out with them?” She broke the ice, nodding towards the door T had just disappeared through.

Daryl didn’t say anything. His crossbow was discarded on the table and in the next moment his hands were on her, pulling her in and smashing his lips to hers. Olivia was caught off-guard by his response. His hands roamed her body, settling on her ass and squeezing it so hard she was pushed into his body. It was so intense, so needy in way Daryl had never expressed before.

He pulled away suddenly, lightly panting against her lips, “Gotta make those bunk beds a double bed when I get back.”

Olivia rose her eyebrows at him. Was he suggesting…?

“Gotta go help them. Stay ‘ere. Keep an eye on Hershel. Somebody’s gotta stick around in case shit goes bad.” Daryl roughly kissed her one more time before pulling away completely and grabbing his crossbow, heading out the door after the men.

What the hell just happened?

.--.

“How’s he doing?” Olivia asked Glenn when she got back inside the cell block. She’d taken a couple minutes to recover from Daryl’s assault on her lips. Not that she was complaining. She would definitely have to make the bunk bed a double bed.

Glenn shrugged, “Fine I guess. Still bleeding, but it’s slowing down. They’ve got it elevated to try and stop it. How’d things go out there?”

Olivia scoffed, “Yeah. Found out they’ve been locked in that kitchen since the breakout. Have no idea about walkers or anything going on in the world. They took them outside to show them walkers.”

Glenn shook his head, “Can’t imagine just being thrown into this mess. That’s gotta be a shock.”

Olivia couldn’t agree more. It was probably how Rick felt, being in a coma for months and waking up to this world. She had been terrified listening to the news and obtaining the trickle of information as it came in. How would she fare waking up one day and realizing that everything and everyone she knew was dead? She imagined not well.

Seeing as the group didn’t need any help with Hershel, she busied herself with other work. She found a cloth and some water to scrub down all the walls in the cells. Most of them were still covered in blood and guts and having blood on your walls wasn’t super ‘homey’.

Once she finished that she tried to figure out how she was going to go about her home renovation project. She supposed she could put the mattresses on the floor and take the bunks out entirely but wasn’t partial to that plan either. Another bunk could be brought in, making two double beds on the top and bottom. That would give them more storage above and below the bed. Could even put curtains on top so they would drape around the lower bed. Olivia laughed at herself. Now she was getting fancy.

She took the mattresses off of the bunkbed frame before moving it so it would be lighter. Joke was on her though because it was not very light. It only moved a few inches, squeaking against the concrete floor. Olivia cringed every time, trying to lift more than drag. Hershel needed his rest if he was sleeping.

Glenn showed up after the third squeak. “What are you trying to do here?” Amusement laced his voice as he watched her struggle.

Olivia turned to give him her best exasperated look. Of course, she didn’t really mean it, “What’s it look like? I’m trying to get this out of here.”

“Why? Where’s it going? I thought you and Daryl slept-…ohhh.” The pieces clicked. “That’s smart, actually. I should do that in Maggie and I’s cell.”

“Make ya a deal? You help me set this up in my cell and I’ll help you set one up in yours?” She put on her best pleading grin.

It didn’t take much to convince Glenn.

They even got to put one of Olivia’s birthday presents to use, the headphone jack splitter. It couldn’t be used while they were moving the bunks down the pathways, but as soon as they were adjusting things in their own cells they could plug in and jam out to music.

Olivia learned that Glenn was into more upbeat and pop-style music. It was pretty fitting in her opinion. Glenn was usually a pretty upbeat guy.

“Throw it away, forget yesterday! We’ll make the great escape. We won’t hear a word they say; they don’t know us anyway. Watch it burn, let it die, ‘cause we are finally free…today!” Glenn danced just as he acted around women: awkwardly. It was fun though, because Olivia was no more skilled in the art, rolling her shoulders and shuffling around.

“What are you two doin’?” Maggie laughed at the image from the cell doorway.

Glenn shot her a grin and gestured to their project, “See! Now we can both sleep on the same level.”

Maggie nodded slowly, “I had meant more you two dancin’. But that was a good idea. I saw you did the same thing in Olivia and Daryl’s cell. This mean we gotta share our condoms now?”

Olivia’s face flushed bright red. Glenn seemed unfazed, “I dunno. Splitting condoms wasn’t part of the deal. But I guess if you need some, we have some.”

She bit her lower lip. As much as she did not want to have this conversation with Glenn and Maggie, it wasn’t a bad idea. No offense to Lori, but Olivia was not ready to end up like her. She was glad that Lori was having a baby; Olivia loved babies. But they’d just found this place and they weren’t sure it was secure and…yeah.

Olivia settled for an unsure shrug.

Maggie rolled her eyes and entered the cell fully to dig in her bag. She pulled out two little squares and gave them Olivia. “Here. We don’t have many left, but we don’t need two babies on the way.”

Olivia took them quickly and shoved them in her pocket, “Yeah, thanks. I, uh, I can go on a run with you guys and look for some more.”

Maggie giggled at Olivia’s reddening face. She didn’t say anything though, just nodding. Olivia felt awkward, shifting her weight between her feet. Glenn didn’t really need any more help and she was desperate to get out of the cell that was closing in on her.

She gestured to the direction of her cell, “I’m gunna…yeah. Uh, thanks, again.” And with that Olivia ducked her head and headed back to the safety of her own room.

Her lip was starting to hurt with how hard she was biting it and she tried to relax. It wasn’t a big deal. It was just condoms. Condoms for sex. Sex that she’d never had before. Yeah…no biggie.

.--.

The guys came back without the prisoners, which relieved and scared Olivia. Daryl had simply shrugged when she tried to silently ask him what happened.

“Gotta take watch tonigh’.” He grumbled when he finally did speak to her. “Thought ya could come with.”

Olivia wasn’t sure if that had a double meaning to it or not. Daryl wasn’t handsy with her again, but the group was close by, checking on Hershel in his cell. And Olivia knew how Daryl felt about public affection.

Still, she nodded and agreed to go with him.

He informed Rick of their plans before leading her out to the guard tower.

As soon as he locked the door behind them as they entered the control room, his hands were on her again. He grabbed her roughly by the hips, smashing his lips to hers. The urgency that he’d shown her earlier came back in full force as he pawed at her body, moving from her hips to her back to her ass.

He broke the kiss when he needed oxygen, panting lightly, “Figured this’d be a good place. Quiet. Way from the others.”

She couldn’t disagree. Apparently this had been on his mind while he was gone too. Still, she had to give him a hard time, “After all the work I did in the cell.”

Daryl rose his eyebrows, surprise coloring his face, “You made it a double bed while I’s gone? Damn girl.” He pressed another hungry kiss to her lips, pulling away just enough to growl out, “Needin’ me just as bad, eh?”

Her heart was pounding in her ears. Despite the nerves she had around this situation, she couldn’t deny that she was…excited. Her stomach tingled at the huskiness of his voice. Was it possible to come undone just by Daryl’s voice alone? Was that a real virgin thing to do? Was she bad at this already?

She broke the kiss next, lightly pushing him away, “D-Daryl-…Daryl, I-…” The words were having a hard time forming. What if he didn’t want her after she told him? What if she was inexperienced (which she obviously was) and awful and he dumped her?

He took her hesitation as something else entirely, pulling back quickly. “Is this not what ya…I mean. Shit, shit, shit. ‘m sorry. I didn’ mean ta…I jus’ thought-“

“No, Daryl.” Olivia tried to correct things before they got out of hand and she completely ruined the mood. If it wasn’t ruined already. “You were right, I…I’m more than okay with this. It’s just…” She exhaled, suddenly unable to look him in the eye.

“Jus’ what?” He closed the distance between them again. His hand cupped the side of her face, pulling it up so she was forced to look at him.

Her throat felt dry, like she hadn’t had any water in days. “It’s just…I’ve never….”

She didn’t have to say more than that. The words clicked in Daryl’s mind and she knew it by the way he slowly lifted his head up in a partial nod. He didn’t say anything, and the words tumbled out of her mouth faster than her brain could catch up, “I’m sorry. It’s just…I-I never had- I mean, I dated, but not like…and with my brothers, I just-…I’m sorry-“

“The hell ya apologizin’ for?”

Olivia paused. For being inexperienced? For being awful at this while he would be fantastic and wonderful and perfect like always? Neither of those sentences left her mouth though. Her lips parted to speak but the dryness of her throat was catching up to her and nothing could come out. Instead, she shrugged.

“Dun be sorry.” His lips returned to hers, much gentler now, “Ya trust me?”

She nodded. Of course, she did. She trusted him with everything she had.

“We’ll go slow. Make sure ya feel good, ok? Promise.”

That night in the guard tower, he made damn good on that promise.

@azanoni

#light in the dark series #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fic #daryl dixon fanfic #the walking dead fanfic #the walking dead fic

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angelthebedsheet · 4 years ago

Note

Ok but like imagine a 6’8 black girl walking into karasuno gym while the in practice.

a/n: oooh alr this gonna be a headcannon

lets get it!

okay so ms girl you have some backstory.... some LORE

you used to be apart of the third year gang before you had to transfer schools

the boys + kiyoko really missed you yk?

so today you finally came back to karasuno

esp asahi bc you were his home girl

you already knew your way around and saw some of your old classmates from year one

now baby you are a tall girl

like taller than asahi girl

ya legs were lookin real beautiful

now you were on your way to suprise your babies

you knocked on that gym door and suga peeks his head out like

“hello? who is i— MY BABYLOVE!”

this nigga screamed that shit so loud the third years were ALERTED

there’s only one babylove and thats YOU honey

suga damn near jumps you

like he hasnt seen you in so LONG

“i missed you suga! im back for good now!”

“missed you too!! thats amazing!! also. WHY DIDNT YO ASS VISIT ME EARLIER? I HAVENT SEEN YOU SINCE SUMMER LAST FUCKIN YEAR.”

sugamama’s out and he got your ear.

now kiyoko heard ya voice and that girl was zooming

suga and kiyoko pull you into the gym

second years and first years went

DAMNNNNNNN

asahi ran over there and tackled you in a big ass hug

now there’s a doggy pile of third years

and the rest have never been so confused

they havent even gotten a good look at you bc you got JUMPED by the third years

they deadass dropped their shit to get to you

“babylove its been so long!!” - kiyoko

this alr made nishi and tanaka go like 🤨🕶🤏🏽

like “whom?”

how you managed to avoid them is beyond me but girl you got your ways even tho yous a big bitch

kageyama deadass dont really care that much bc volleyball why tf this rando just bust up in here and take the third years....

n e ways

eventually they pull you up

they’re like DAMNNNNN again

bc GIRL YOU TALL TALL

like you can actually give asahi a forehead kiss

(which you have bc aint no damn way if i was in the third year gang i wouldnt give them affection poor baby prolly touch starved)

nishinoya and tanaka’s simp reflexes have kicked in they are def about to say some lightskin ass shit

daichi’s alr on defense

“ahnt ahnt let me introduce her. COACH UKAI can we take a min to introduce her?”

“...fine whatever just dont take too long”

“alr bet”

(i hc daichi, tanaka, and asahi got that negro in em so if you dont like that then suck my dick and you may think bc i am a woman i dont have one but i have a pink di—)

they introduce you

“this is l/n y/n. she was a first year manager with kiyoko until she had to transfer but now she’s back!” goodlooks suga

“any questions?”

“how are you so tall?” hinata

“ask another dumb question like that and i swear to GOD hinata.” sugamama

“can you play volleyball?” kageyama

“yeah i can. i play with ushijima”

I BEG YOUR DAMN PARDON?

USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI??? THE MAN WITH THE POWERFUL SERVE???

“what 😀” asahi

“can SHE PLAY WITH US????” - hinata

tsukishima cant even talk shit bc you really could rock his ass

he gotta look up at you he dont want no smoke lmaoaoao

they were just hounding you with questions now and suga a lil peeved bc damn yall cant pay attention in class and ask all these questions but as soon as our babylove comes in yall suddenly got shit to say? 🚶🏽‍♂️

“she’s hot, tall and plays volleyball? i mean shit l/n senpai...” - nishinoya’s thirsty ass

“ahnt I THINK THE FUCK NOT?” - daichi

oop

during this kiyoko just pulls you to the bench so you can just chat with da girlz

aka her and yachi

yachi fumbling and stumbling

like mamas you lookin real scrum-dilly-ious

“i-im yachi hitoka! nice to meet you senpai”

you’ve already adopted her

“i love you now. kiyoko can i take her in”

“she isnt a stray animal babylove.”

yachi’s a lil like???? yall got a poly thang happenin? is this whats going on?

you saw the confusion in her eyes

“they call me babylove since i used to act like like a lovin mother to em and i had a baby face”

(i suffer from baby face syndrome and istg if someone says i look like a lil kid one more time i’m gonna pop off like the fourth of july fym i look like a lil kid bitCH GET OUTTA MY FA— lemme stop being so aggressive in these)

“ooooh”

now we all know nishinoya is DOWN with the melanin.... and you sittin with the gorls lookin all... tasteful and melaninated.

is melaninated a word? i dont know but i will continue to use it even if it isnt

now he suddenly sitting beside you

“hey mamas”

excuse me? i beg your pardon?

“uh hello?”

stage 1 complete he’s now your simp lmao

“you’re beautiful”

“nishinoya if you dont get yo clown ass the FUCK up over here” daichi’s black ass and sugamama

“dAMN I CANT DO SHIT IN THIS FAMILY”

yeah they missed you and you def played volleyball

they made the mistake of letting you play on the team with daichi, suga, and asahi

you bodied they asses

even coach ukai had to hold in that snicker

you damn near beheaded hinata with that spike

that boy hit a note so high ms. ariana grande was given a run for her money

“YESSIRRRRRR” - you

the slangs are out and kageyama has never been so confused

static? bum ass bitch? tf that shit mean

(ny slang be confusing me too homie its alright)

yall right after they lost

but yeah eventually the first years warmed up to you

as soon as you affectionately patted kageyama’s head he was done for

that boy is ✨t o u c h s t a r v e d ✨

you fussed over yama and tsukki and they were sold

yama bc you were really sweet

tsuki? same reason but he aint telling you he said “im taking that shit to the fucking GRAVE”

das all bc baby im blanking out and i’m doing stupid like kaminari after he short circuits

#x black reader #haikyuu headcannons #haikyuu x black reader #haikyuu x reader #x female reader #haikyuu #karasuno x reader #karasuno #unrelated but coach ukai is so mf fine??? hello sir i may be asthmatic but i can risk it for you king #lemme not get him a case LMAOAOAOAOAA

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needs-to-stop-looking-at-valves · 4 years ago

Note

Heuj valves, you know what I'm here for, go on. Make us a story dolly >:)

-cursed

Okay, in case you guys haven’t been around for like, the past day or two, let me explain. This is involving Bill Sykes, the villain of the movie ‘Oliver and Company’. Cursed came out of nowhere, showed me this man, and he has LITERALLY kept me up all night last night. I’m tired, majorly horny, and I hate this big, BIG man so much. Let’s go. (Also side note first attempt writing him, I'm trying)

Money. Money was a thing that made the world go round. It was something everyone wanted, something everyone would fight tooth and nail to get. Some people had nothing, and some had far too much. Like Sykes. Sykes had so much money, through brute force, through cunning, through anything and everything unsavory. And with so much money, came with the ability to have SO much power, of which he abused. If he wasn’t taunting people with how much money he had, he was luring more people in with his classic charm. As evil as he was, no one really seemed to see it at the beginning. They saw an older, rather likeable man. It was why no one blinked twice when he walked into the clothes store. If anything, he was welcomed, especially by the man behind the counter.

“Mr.Sykes! Just on time! Ever the punctual man! I got your new suit in!”

“Good, good. You’re one of the few in this city that DOESN’T disappoint me.”

“I should hope not, you’re my best customer! Speaking of, can I be daring enough to offer you a new set of shoes?”

“Wasn’t looking for a new pair, but what the hell.”

Sykes let him be walked to the counter. He JUST so happened to be on the counter next to some lady. Pretty thing, honestly. She somehow didn’t notice him, and pushed a handbag across the counter.

“Hey, I didn’t see a tag on this. Can you check it for me?”

This lady didn’t belong here. This was a real ‘if you had to ask, you can’t afford it’ kinda place. The guy behind the counter gave her a look, before glancing at the bag.

“Twenty nine fifty, miss.”

“Only thirty bucks? Okay-”

She went to dig into her current purse, before he cleared his throat.

“Ma’am, no. I’m saying it's two thousand, nine hundred and fifty dollars.”

“Ah. So when do I get the bull?”

“Pardon?”

“The bull. The one who's giving me this fresh batch of shit."

Sykes had to give her one thing, she had a mouth on her. Sykes sensed a fight, and decided to turn that into his favor.

“Hey, let me pay for the lady here.”

She looked at him, seeming to just now notice his presence. She was reasonably suspicious, and seemed to almost snarl at him.

“I don’t do freebies.”

“Not a freebie. Just thought a pretty lady should have pretty things. If you don’t want it, fine, won’t push it. Really, it’s on me.”

She hesitated, before seeming to put her guard down, pushing the purse back across the counter. He chuckled, swiping his card. This is how you brought the pretty ones in. Buy them something nice and shiny, show them you were a sweet guy. He grabbed his things, and stepped outside with her. She was staring at her purse in fascination, before turning to look at him.

“Thanks a bunch, by the way. Didn’t catch your name.”

“Sykes. Bill Sykes.”

He held his hand out to her, and she accepted the handshake. He took the chance to give her another look over, and realized; yeah. She was worth trapping. He threw his stuff into the car, before turning to look in her direction.

“You have plans for lunch?”

“No, why?”

“Feelin’ generous today. Assuming you can spare me some company.”

She looked hesitant, studying him and his ride. If he wasn’t rich, it would’ve been ‘hell no’. But she was, like many, allured by his obvious, flagrant weath.

“I mean...yeah, sure. Why not?”

Little did she know, she was digging the hole deeper and deeper.

-------------------------------------------

It had gotten WAY later into the night than he planned. He had meant to only spare an hour or so, but he found himself taking well into sunset. By the time they left the place, she was hooked, lined, and sinker, laughing and holding onto his arm as they walked back to his car. He opened the passenger side door for her, motioning for her to hop in.

“You want a ride back to your place? You DID have a bit to drink.”

She nodded, getting inside, practically giddy.

“Yeah, I can tell you how to get there, I think.”

“Good, good.”

He shut the door after her, and hopped in himself. He put on his seatbelt, and lit up a cigar. He hadn’t had a good smoke all day, and it felt good to finally get one in. He let her guide him to her house, and made a mental note of just where she lived. The drive was but a simple action, but it was a clever, discreet way of knowing just where to find her. He stopped right in front of her place, put the car in park, and exhaled the smoke into the car’s interior.

“You know, you put me in a real, real good mood. How about I do the same for you?”

She looked at him, confused, before he pulled out his wallet, and brought out a good chunk of cash. THAT sobered her up. Her first instinct was to clearly reach for it, but she stopped herself.

"What...is this for?"

"Spending money. Something for you to play around with, invest in stuff, whatever ya want."

"That’s...lots of money. A...LOT of money. You just carry that with you? You don’t think you’ll get mugged or something?”

“That doesn’t happen. Trust me on that.”

He chuckled. There were attempts, MANY attempts in fact, but...well. Didn’t end well, let’s keep it at that. She looked down at the stack, and he knew she was so close to being in his web. Just one movement of the hand. One moment of indulgence. And she fell for it. She took it from his hand, and counted it in her hand. The more she counted, the more lost she seemed to get, clearly in disbelief.

“Twenty five...t-thousand. That’s seriously how much this is?”

“Right on the dot. Now go on, get outta here. Sure I’ll bump into ya again, Doll.”

When she helped herself out of the car, he chuckled, and pulled out of the driveway. Soon enough made it home, where Roscoe and Desoto looked up at him, clearly wondering where he had been. It WAS a bit past their usual treat time. Fishing some out of his pockets, he tossed them towards his eagerly awaiting pups. He sighed as he sat down at his chair, leaning back a bit, and blowing rolls of smoke into the air.

“You boys ain’t gonna believe today’s catch. A real cute thing, you have no idea. Imma give her the usual week. Desoto.”

He snapped his fingers, and the mutt obeyed promptly, getting out of bed and sitting at his side. He allowed Sykes to run his big, firm hands through his fur, and thumbs rubbing at the tips of his ears. His master seemed VERY pleased by his new catch today, he almost never got special pets like this.

“You guys are gonna love her. Because If I don’t get a bite out of her, you two will.”

--------------------------------------------------------

He waited in his car, headlights off as he awaited her to return from work. He decided to take all this time to get back to some calls, rather than just sit here with his thumbs up his ass.

“No. No. Swear to god ya bunch of morons- no. Take the teeth out BEFORE ya dump him. So what if he screams? Well ya in the warehouse right? Aight, ya gonna be fine then.”

His associate kept talking on the other line, but Sykes didn’t listen. He was too distracted by his hounds in the back, who were now fully sitting up and looking out the window. His dogs were a pain, but at least they were smart.

“Yeah listen, imma call ya back. Figure it out.”

He then saw her. She was even carrying the same purse he bought her. He waited till she went to her front door, before turning on the headlights, nearly blinding the poor thing. He stepped out of the car, hands out as if he was being welcoming.

“Aye, there ya are doll! Been a while!”

She seemed confused for a minute, but as he stepped closer, it clicked.

“Sykes, right?”

“Yeah, knew ya wouldn’t forget me. I didn’t forget ya in the slightest.”

He walked up to her, and leaned against the door, pinning her between a rock and a hard place. She shrunk a bit, before looking down at the floor. She had dropped her keys. Just before she could make the motion to reach for them, he covered it with the bottom of his shoe. He leaned down, blowing plumes of smoke into her face, making tears swell in her eyes.

“So, where’s my payment?”

“Payment?”

Of course she was confused. They always were. As if money was free in this world. He let the cigar roll in his mouth, before nodding.

“Yeah, my payment. You took a loan from me, doll. I need it back.”

“I didn’t know that was a loan! You didn’t say-”

“Little girl, nothing in this world is free, money included. Now, where is it? If you got it upstairs, I’ll go with ya to get it.”

Her little eyes looked so frantic under his gaze. He just needed to hear those words. Words that from any other mouth, would make him a very unhappy man.

“I...don’t have that kinda money.”

That was all he needed. He grabbed her by her arm, and yanked her to follow. She would’ve made a dash for her keys, had Roscoe not nipped at her heel, forcing her to back away. Turns out two barking dogs made for quite the deterrent. Sure, she struggled, screaming as his hand slapped over her mouth, but that didn’t matter. He managed to pull her away, and nearly threw her into the car. Desoto was a good boy, using those big, pearly whites to keep her there in pure fear.

“Roscoe, fetch.”

Roscoe went for the door, grabbed the keys, and placed them into his master’s hand.

“Good boy. Now get in.”

He waited till his other pup jumped into the back, before he went to the driver’s seat, and locked the doors. He adjusted his rearview mirror, and caught a glimpse of her scared little eyes. Yep. She was already worth every penny.

----------------------------------------------

“Don’t look at me like I’m a bad guy, sweetheart. You understand, ain’t nothing free. I fancy myself a good guy, but not good enough to just hand out money like that.”

Roscoe and Desoto circled her like vultures. She didn't even NEED to be tied up like this, he just liked the assurance, and the view. Like a little doe, she was still, powerless, and scared.

"I didn't know-"

"What you don't know, CAN kill you. I'm sorry, I know it ain't fair. But life is like that. Fortunately for you, I'm a very compassionate man. We can discuss methods of payment. Any family money?"

She shook her head, seeming to be a BIT distracted by Roscoe's sharp teeth. He gave a sharp inhale, shaking his head.

"Clearly YOU don't have the money, right? No 'under the sofa' cash?"

Another shake of her head. His fingers tapped against his table, shaking his head in clear disappointment.

"Oh. I REALLY don't like your options now, Doll. Ya got two choices."

She squirmed a bit, stiffening as Desoto's teeth bared against her. He lifted his hands up a bit, and snapped his fingers. Roscoe followed the command, and dashed right for her, barking and frothing at the mouth. The weight of his body sent her falling, with the chair slamming onto the floor. He pinned her down, barking and covering her face in drool, teeth BARELY missing her own skin.

Oh how she screamed. How she begged for mercy. How her legs thrashed as she tried in vain to get away. He let her sit there until he was certain there were tears in her eyes. Then he stood up, and slowly walked over to her, heavy footsteps clanking against the hard floor below them. He snapped his fingers, and Roscoe heeled, taking a seat next to his fellow fido. He squatted down to her level, blowing smoke into her already irritated face. He liked crybabies.

"That's option one. I'm assuming you don't want that."

She shook her head, sniffing. He rolled the cigar in his lips, before he lifted her face up with his hand, and pushed her chin down, forcing her mouth to open.

"Option two. You could provide me with a few...services. Then we can forget ALL about the pesky little debt you have with me. You're a pretty little thing, I'd be willing to let you work it off. I mean, you'd survive If I bit you, rather than my boys here. Not to mention if you're sweet 'nuff, I'll un do those pesky ropes of yours."

She clearly thought about it, but her mind was foggy, her eyes hurt, even her lungs felt sore from the second hand smoke. But, just as he suspected, she nodded. A huge grin came over his face, and he held onto the chair, pulling her off the floor.

"Alright sweetheart, let's EARN your freedom here. Open that pretty mouth for me."

He held onto her face as he pulled in, pushing that thick, rich smoke right into her mouth. All while his tongue slid into her mouth, grazing against hers. He took his time, getting a good, firm kiss out of her. He only pulled away when he needed to breathe. She needed it too, starting to fall into a coughing fit. It was cute. He put out his cigar on the ashtray, letting it sit there.

"Mm. You taste good. Damn good."

He undid his belt buckle, and whipped himself out. He turned her face at him, but with a bit of a...heavy hand, he pressed his cock against her face.

It was precious, watching such an innocent face under his thick cock. She whined a bit as he pushed her face into him, nearly smothering her with not only his dick, but his hairy, hairy balls.

"Open up for me Doll, nice and sweet. And don't you bite me. You'll regret it, trust me."

This time she seemed fairly willing, opening her mouth with not much more than a wince. He grabbed onto that pretty, pretty hair of hers, and pulled, really shoving her onto him.

"Oh that's the ticket, honey. Right there. Can feel that little tongue of yours."

He pushed himself fully, and held himself there, till he felt her gag, just like a good girl. He pulled away, watching her pant, lips covered in her own drool, and chest heaving. She was about to speak, before he shoved his balls right into her mouth, head tossed back in content. When was the last time he had his balls sucked by a cute, willing (somewhat anyway) little thing like her? He kept his fat, firm fingers in between her hair, really making a mess of it. Beautiful, poised girls were all swell, but cute, messy girls were such fun playthings. He granted her a bit of mercy, pulling away, while still pumping his cock.

"Mmm. You're a good little girl, ain't ya? Pretty too. I was gonna really put you through the ringer, but you're too damn precious NOT to be opened."

Not needing any scissors, he yanked at the ropes, making them snap under the force of his grip. He lifted her off of the seat, putting her on his desk, and using his big, strong hands to part those nice looking legs of hers. She was clearly hesitant, being felt up by essentially a stranger, but he didn’t care. Long as she didn't fight him, he could give less of a damn. He tore off her skirt, and took a gander of her panties. It was hot, knowing those lacey undergarments were paid for by HIM.

"Cute set here, Doll. Real, real cute stuff."

He took a hold of her ass, and pulled her closer to him, pressing himself right against that nice, cute fabric. With his free hand, he tugged at her shirt. Just because he was hungry, didn't mean he couldn't be a bit refined.

"Shirt, bra, off. Case you wanna keep your outfit in one piece."

He saw her hands tremble, as if she was confused. He gave another tug, and she seemed to finally get the hint, pulling her clothes off. She was worth the wait, honestly. Hell, he was so excited, he took his own shirt off, laying it as carefully as he could off to the side of the desk (it was hard to keep your shit neat when you wanted to be messy). He dug his fingers into her hair again, and yanked her into another kiss, this time really pressing himself against her. It wasn’t just their bank accounts that differed, it seemed. Where she was soft, helpless, he was firm, foreboding against her. He loomed over her, nearly suffocating her with not only his greedy lips, but his large, hairy, heavy frame. He pulled her away for a moment, ignoring the way she winced. He was pretty heavy handed, especially when it came to such a darling looking thing. He started to roll his hips into her, pushing his tip right against her clit. He liked the way she jumped every time, liked the way her toes seemed to curl.

“You’re gonna handle me REAL well, girlie. I can tell. You’re really just a kitten, ain’t ya?”

His hand cupped at one of her breasts, kneading and pulling at the flesh. He was heavy handed with her, using enough force to make her wince. Not his fault she had a cute pair, with a face to match. He would sit there and play with them till they were nice and raw, but he wasn’t sure his cock would handle this much stalling. He hooked his finger into her underwear, and pulled them off. They were pretty much soaked, and something about that was just so charming to him. He let go of her hair, and groped her pussy, palming at her wet, warm folds. She held onto his hand, writhing under his firm grip. He pulled his hand away, letting her whimper as he checked out just how much she left on his hand. Needy little thing, it seemed. He slapped that hand over her mouth, and pushed himself right inside. You’d think he’d give her just the tip, get her used to his size.

You’d be wrong.

He pushed himself fully inside of her, balls deep, and watched her shake. Not that he blamed her. He was a big guy, afterall. He kept his hand over her mouth, despite how much she clawed at his hand. He held her like that, not moving a single muscle until she decided to settle down. He pulled his hand away, watching as her own drool (along with her own fluids) smeared over her delicate little mouth. She looked at the cock stuff inside of her, before looking at his face. He was expecting some kind of retort, some kind of insult, maybe even a slap to the face, stuff he was used to.

“You’re a terrible, terrible man.”

He opened his mouth to give her a life lesson (one he gave everyone when they barked that at him), when she suddenly flung herself at him, nearly smashing her lips against his own. That...was a first. But he was NOT complaining. He grabbed the back of her head, and returned the kiss with fervor, letting her moan right into his greedy, greedy mouth. Laying her right onto her back, he started to slam himself right into her. He had no idea how his desk supported his weight, especially when he was acting damn near belligerent on his new toy, but god was he glad it did. Especially since his new toy seemed just as excited as he was now, running her hands through his absolute mess of chest hair, and even locking her legs around him, as if she didn’t want him to leave. He parted the kiss, panting huskily against her lips. She moved not an inch, in either obedience, or the fact that his strong, fat hands were still holding the back of her head, as if he was scruffing a mutt.

“You’re taking me real nice, doll. You feel nice and tight, and you’re feeling me up like you actually like me.”

She didn’t seem to be focusing on his words for a moment, but rather keeping her focus on his big, hairy tummy. Not that he cared, he favored looking at her tits moving in sync with his thrusts. He favored watching the lewdness in her eyes, he favored knowing that her ravenous pussy leaked all over his desk. All of these he favored, over her actually meeting his eyes (Sykes wasn’t a real romance type, case you haven’t guessed). He let her continue her grubby little hands as he lowered his face right to the nape of her neck. He could tell that she liked hearing him talk, given the way she seemed to pull at his hair every time his breath brushed against her ear.

“It’s gonna feel so good when I cum right in you. You’re already handling me so good, you’re already gonna cum yourself. I can see it. I can see it plain as day, you wanna cum on my cock. Even if I’m a bad, bad guy, you want me doll. And that’s SO sweet of ya, really.”

He could tell she was trying to give him a bit of a fight. Just a little bit of one. She had such a mean little scowl about her, as if she refused to let him see her cum. Unfortunately for her, he always took what he wanted. And after just a few more thrusts, after taunting her with his sweet, sweet voice, and after grabbing her so tightly she bruised, she came. She shook something fierce as he fucked her right through it, relishing in her cries of ecstasy. He was used to screams. Screams of mercy, of pain, but hearing one from such a cute little dame cumming for him, it was just so refreshing. She pushed his face away, only to bury her teeth right into his big, meaty neck. Most bites tended to happen on his hand, so feeling it here was just something else. He didn’t have a chance in hell. With a swear under his lips, he came. He forced her to keep still, pumping cum right inside of her. Even as it trickled out of her, he didn’t seem to quit. He wasn’t timing it, but he knew he lasted a damn good minute before he finished.

“Shit.”

Was his only response. A simple, satisfied swear. One that helped ease all the tension in his poor, old body. His stomach rested on hers as he panted, ever so slowly calming down from a damn good high. She was quite a vision herself, covered in sweat and bruises. Pretty thing. She forced herself to swallow, before speaking, wearily.

“We uh...square, right?”

That made him laugh. He shook his head, leaning over to his discarded jacket, and pulling out a cigar. He lit it up, taking a good, deep inhale, right before looking down at her.

“Honey, that was a damn good fuck, really it was. But that was NOT worth twenty five thousand. You still got a bit of work ahead of ya, Doll.”

He watched her wince as he tapped his cigar, letting the ashes fall onto her exposed skin. Yep.

She was a keeper.

#asks #lemon #not transformers #bill sykes #listen #i MAY have let loose some kinks of #mine #i uh #got it bad

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thiswasinevitableid · 4 years ago

Note

17 chosen and 20 lunar for Indruck, nsfw, please!

Here you go!

Lieutenants Log, stardate 10015, Joseph Stern recording

We’ve finally arrived at an agreement with the Aquariads, the species who control this moon. They will allow our research team unfettered access to the planet, but at an odd price. They requested one of our crew agree to be married off to a high ranking member of their governing council.

I suspect, but cannot prove, that this is not a desirable being to be married to. He’s a revered seer, and yet they’re willing to couple him to a human and not one of their own? Suspicious.

Myself and the other single members of the crew were all given extensive questionnaires on everything from our sexual preferences to our daily habits. It took me a good hour and a half to finish it.

After a full earth day of waiting, we received word that chief astrobotanist Duck Newton was the chosen human. I have no idea how this happened, as Duck has little tolerance for what he views as “woo-woo” things like precognition. But he was chosen all the same.

Because this is Duck, he grumbled a bit, but cheered up when he learned he would only be required to stay with his new husband for three weeks before joining us on our field word, and that we can send him specimens for identification and research. If we decide Aquaria is the planet we’ve been looking for and establish more permanent research stations here, Duck will be expected to spend at least a few days a month with the seer. Mama made it clear that if the idea was truly not something he could agree to, she would call the deal off and we could try another approach. Duck said that wouldn’t be necessary, and that he could think of far worse things they could have asked of us.

We deposit him at the seers home tomorrow. After that, we begin our exploration of Aquaria, fourth moon of the plant Oceana and (hopefully) the home of the antidote we’ve been searching for.

Joseph Stern, Lieutenant on the spaceship Amnesty, signing off.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Duck waves to the skiff as it pulls away, his planetside bag slung over his shoulder. There’s only one way to go; down the single stone levee, decorated with beautiful tiles, to the massive mansion at the end.

It reminds him of the photos of Venice he’s seen in old National Geographics, beautiful buildings floating atop a planet of water. He knows Aquaria has islands, but the majority of it’s cities are on or near the water because most of its residents live beneath the waves. They remind Duck of mermaids, with scaled tails and fins giving way to humanoid upper bodies and faces. As far as creatures to get politically married off to, he could be staring down worse.

There’s still the problem of not knowing why this mer is off by himself and without a partner. Or, as becomes obvious once Duck is inside, any company at all. The other high-ranking aquariads they’ve met come with miles of attendants; here there’s only the high, curved ceilings and rippling water. Maybe the guy is shy? Or maybe he’s a dick? Or just real fucking scary to look at?

As he walks further into the house, he notices the tiled walls are covered in striking murals that, when coupled with the odd half-light allowed in by the green glass windows, makes him feel as though he’s wandering through a dream. The pools and canals criss-cross the floor, and really the ground is more water than concrete, the fact he’s able to walk at all is a concession to the fact some aquariads evolved to be land dwelling.

A splash makes him turn, and in the pool to his right a black fin cuts the water. He steels himself to not insult the alien he’s now legally attached to. The figure rises from the water, setting his arms on the edge of the stony floor and Duck steps back as a wide, toothy smile appears in an angular face.

“Hello, Duck Newton.” His tail is the same black as his fin, and his silver hair is tucked behind ears of the same color, which Duck has learned can fan out as a way of communicating.

“Uh, hi. You must be-”

“Indrid Cold, yes. Apologies, a peril of my profession is that I will always be a little bit ahead.”

“Right. So, uh, guess we’re gonna be seein a lot of each other the next couple of weeks.” He aims for a joking, nonchalant tone.

“Yes, as we’re married.” He cocks his head, confused, then grins brighter, “Oh, oh I see, you are attempting levity because this is all very awkward. I, ah, I appreciate that. Here, let me show you where you’ll be staying” Indrid pushes off the wall, swimming gracefully on his back as Duck follows him down the hall. The center of the house has more skylights, allowing him to see that his host’s fins aren’t pure black; small silver and white dots are scattered across it. He wonders if he could find constellations in them.

“Here we are.” Indrid gestures to a room, one where the only water is in the form of two deep blue half-circles on the left and right walls. The center of the room is a large bed, linens gleaming whites and pale greens, and the skylight nestles against a chandelier of finely detailed rosey glass.

“Holy shit.” Duck sets his bag down on a trunk near the door.

“Do you like it?” A flash of yellow up Indrid’s fin, echoed in the dots on his tail.

“I mean, anythin looks ritzy after months on a spaceship but” he turns, smiles, “yeah, I do. Thanks for giving me such nice digs.”

“You are most welcome. Now, this room is designed to give guests privacy. See that red panel on the wall? If you press it, it opens the pool on that side up to the rest of the house, allowing myself or servants to come in and help you.”

“So you do have staff.”

“They’re, ah, more like errand folk. None live here.” Indrid clears his throat, “I can show you the rest of the house, although if you need to sleep I can let you be. I am, ah, not entirely clear on where your internal clock sits now.”

“Aquaria’s days are about four days longer than earth’s, so I ain’t too thrown off. Happy to see more of the place.”

Indrid nods, and Duck follows him out of the bedroom. Most of the other rooms they pass are sparse squares of walkways and still water, under which lies the parts of the house Indrid uses. When they reach Indrid’s quarters, he spots what looks to be an artists’ studio under the clear blue water.

“You paint?” He kneels and peers down for a better look, Indrid bobbing nearby.

“Indeed. Art helps me make sense of my visions, and I enjoy it besides. In fact, all the murals you see in this house are my doing. There are even more under water.”

“Damn, that’s fuckin incredible. If I get my SCUBA gear rigged up, maybe I can get a tour?”

“Scu--oh, yes, an underwater breathing apparatus. We have a much smaller device that can help you breathe and sea down here” he dips his head at the pool, “unfortunately, the one I commissioned for you will not arrive until close to the end of your stay. They, ah, did not give me much time to prepare. Hence the lack of many comforts I might otherwise give, as well as places for you to and I to talk, eat or do, ah, other activities together.” The yellow intermittently flashing up his fin gives way to a burst of pink.

Oh, right. Duck pulls up his infopad (given a generous waterproofing treatment prior to his leaving Amnesty) and opens the contract he signed.

“Yeah. About that. Says here they expect us to, uh, ‘consummate’ the marriage.”

“I’m aware” Indrid’s voice creeps up.

“Do you...wanna do that now?” He spins a finger in the water.

“I, ah, I beg your pardon?”

“I mean, seems like we could just get it outta the way, rather than have the fact we gotta fuck someone we didn’t pick hangin over our heads?”

“This...this is not at all how I wanted this to go.”

Duck looks up and immediately wishes he could reverse time; Indrid looks genuinely hurt, ears flicked back like a scolded dog.

“Duck I, ah, well, you did not choose me, that is true. But I chose you.”

“Well, fuck.” He sits down with a heavy sigh, “figured some big wigs used those surveys to pick me out. Guess what they say about assumin things is true.”

“.....”

“It makes an ass outta you and me?”

Indrid blinks, then snickers, “Your humor is part of why I chose you. It is very bad, but also extremely good.”

“Glad you think so. Pretty sure Mama was ready to blow me out the airlock for some of the ones I made on the way here.” He knows he’s dodging the conversation they should be having, but how the fuck is he supposed to respond when an alien mermaid tells him he picked him to be his husband?

Indrid swims over so he can rest his arms and chin on the stone, glancing shyly up at Duck as he says, “I suppose I also made an ass of myself, as you would say, by assuming you would not see this as an obligation.”

“I mean, even if you chose me, don’t this feel like an obligation to you?”

“No. For me, it is a reminder that most of my kind are too afraid of me to even give me a chance to court them. And that the council thinks I will get into too much trouble without someone to distract me now and then, and decides the company I am worthy of is an alien explorer with no interest in me.”

“I mean, the only reason we agreed to this is because there might be a plant on Aquaria that can treat the illness runnin rampant back home. So at least it’s for a good cause?”

Indrid flicks his ears, red running up his fin, “What you are doing is noble. What I am doing is being used as a way to keep your exploration team in line.”

Duck winces, “Fuck, I’m, uh, I’m just gonna stop talkin now.”

For an agonizing five minutes they sit there in silence, contemplating their situation and stealing glances at each other. Duck always tried to do the right thing, tried to live an honest life and treat the people in it with respect. He’s been kind and polite to beings up and down the galaxy. He can extend some of that to his own husband, can’t he?

“Indrid?”

The alien raises his head.

“Can we start over?”

“Yes. But I do not see how-”

Duck holds out his hand, “Name’s Duck. Thanks for invitin me in and lookin after me the few weeks.”

Indrid’s smile widens as he understands the game, and he takes the human’s hand, “A pleasure to meet you. I am Indrid, seer to the court of Aquaria, and your anxious husband in spite of the now-changing, much more pleasant futures.”

They finish their tour, the humid air less stifling in the wake of their confessions. Indrid shows him the kitchen, the sitting room, and the gardens which, to Duck’s delight, are as much above the water as below.

After that, Indrid excuses himself to attend to seer duties and Duck goes back to his room to unpack. As he’s putting away his toothbrush and razor near a large, elaborate tub carved from golden stone, one of Indrid’s admissions from earlier floats through his mind, bobbing there like a buoy until he gets a chance to ask it.

When they’re in the gardens, Duck taking notes as Indrid dives and surfaces with new things to show him, the human slips his feet into the water and says, “Indrid? You said my offerin to fuck you wasn’t what you wanted. What, uh, what did you want?”

The alien blinks, slowly, pink and teal flashing in his tail, “It is a bit silly in retrospect, but since I knew we would not have time for a proper human marriage courtship, I thought I could mimic the process leading to a one night stand; that way you would be romanced in a manner that made you both comfortable with me and the concept of sex with a relative stranger.”

Duck chuckles, “Always wild to find out how human stuff gets interpreted by the rest of the galaxy. How’d you even come up with what you were gonna do?”

Indrid crosses his arms, mock affronted, “I will have you know I have seen a great deal of human media, courtesy of our minister of defense.”

“Oh yeah?” Duck shifts onto his stomach, sends a small splash Indrid’s way, “what was this night gonna involve, then?”

“Food, dim and therefore, apparently, romantic lighting, dancing to sensual music, and then hopefully some kissing.” The pink in his tail intensifies, “and then working out exactly how to have sex human.”

The mixture of enthusiasm and being utterly out of his element charms Duck to no end; not to mention it’s the most thought someone’s put into a hook-up with him in the last three years.

“Seems to me you got the gist of it. Though I really wanna know what you picked out for ‘sensual music.’”

A playful glint enters Indrid’s glowing eyes, “I will show you, but we must go through the whole evening, otherwise it will seem like a disjointed choice. With, ah, with the understanding that you are not obligated to kiss me at the end.

“You got a deal.”

“Wonderful” Indrid claps his hands together, “wait right here.”

Indrid disappears in a whoosh of black and silver. When he returns, he hoists six opaque domes onto the floor in front of Duck, “I initially planned to eat in the sitting room, but you like this room much better, so we can have dinner here.” With that, he double-taps the top of each dome, revealing a confusing buffet.

“Uh, are those french fries?”

“Yes. You are from the United States of America, and so I chose foods that would make you feel at home.” Indrid points to each plate in turn, “french fries, steak, a turkey with cranberries, lobster, macaroni with cheese, and an apple pie.”

The pie is covered with an odd, yellow meringue, the turkey is the size of a quail, and the black shell suggests this is not a kind of lobster he’s eaten before, but Duck can’t stop smiling.

“Also I took care to be sure none of the necessary substitutions were poisonous to you.”

“Thanks, Indrid.” He means it; in their travels they’ve learned it’s not only humans who think everyone lives and eats exactly the way they do.

Everything except the french fries tastes strange but he finds the meal, like it’s orchestrator, intriguing in it’s oddity. Indrid brings two cool, white bottles from below, offers Duck tastes of each. One is like the celery soda he drank on a dare, the other like root beer if it wasn’t gross. He keeps the second one next to him as the meal progresses, Indrid asking him all kinds of questions about botany and himself. When dinner is over, Indrid guides him two rooms over, grinning excitedly.

“I will start the music; one moment.”

A few seconds after he dives, a chrome cylinder descends from the ceiling and music fills the air.

Ninety-nine red balloons

Floating in the summer sky

Panic bells, it's red alert!

There's something here from somewhere else!

He giggles, sits down so it’s easier to call, “Indrid? Not sure you got the right song bud.”

A silver-haired head pops up, “Not romantic?”

“Nope.”

“Hmmmm” He lifts a small, white rectangle and the song changes.

He was a famous trumpet man from out Chicago way

He had a boogie style that no one else could play

He was the top man at his craft

But then his number came up and he was gone with the draft

He's in the army now, a blowin' reveille

He's the boogie woogie bugle boy of Company B

“N-not quite” The laugh is stronger now.

“Drat. How about….”

I threw a wish in the well, don't ask me, I'll never tell

I looked to you as it fell and now you're in my way

Indrid looks hopefully at him.

“Ain’t what I’d call sensual, but you’d hear it at the kind of place you’d pick up a date.”

The alien beams, starts shifting back and forth to the beat, “shall we dance?”

Duck blushes, pretends he doesn’t know why, “Uh, probably should have said this earlier, but I ain’t much of a dancer.”

Indrid swims to him, stopping close enough that Duck can see the lines on his face that reveal they’re close in age, “That’s alright. Sometimes conversing while having a drink is acceptable behavior, correct?”

“Yeah.” Duck doesn’t bother to hide how intently he’s watching as Indrid dives, his form elegant and ethereal beneath the water.

They sit sipping a hard cider that tastes of papaya and flowers instead of apples until the three other moons glow bright in the skylight. Duck yawns, and excuses himself for the night.

“Thanks for a great evenin, Indrid.”

“You are most welcome. A pity I could not make the music work.”

He’s here for another three weeks at least. And Indrid is floating through the darkening water like a dream he’s tempted to chase.

“Guess you’ll just have to try again.” Duck winks.

Indrid’s ears frill slightly and he flashes bright purple, “Yes, my dear husband, I suppose I will.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Duck’s routine is not the one he usually has while docked on a planet. Every day for the last week, he wakes up, joins Indrid for a leisurely swim, works on his research, and then spends his evening with a weirdly cute alien trying to accurately recreate the earth dating experience for him.

The second night, he asked if Indrid would bring him some of his favorites for their next meal. The steamed coconut crab was a hit. The mantis-squid served still swimming, less so. From then on, when Indrid put in his food orders to the cooks at the main court, it was for a mixture of earth and Aquariad dishes, each one leading him or Indrid to share an anecdote from their time on their home planet.

For the last two nights, he’s lifted the partitions on the pools in his room so Indrid can talk with him until neither of them can keep their eyes open. He wonders if it would be rude to ask him to stay, to sleep in such a small space just so he could be the first thing Duck sees when he wakes up.

There must be floating beds he could put in Indrid’s room, or maybe a hammock he could hang in the garden.

Duck now understands that Indrid’s powers make him politically valuable, but also mean his fellow residents of the lunar city see him as dangerous, as knowing things they’d rather keep secret. Duck understands, especially if their only time encountering the seer is when he glides his formidable, dark body from the depths of his inner sanctum. But all he can see is his Indrid, awkward and well-meaning, whose fear of Duck disliking him has given way to genuine affection. His Indrid, who now pulls himself up onto the stones so they can sit shoulder to shoulder after breakfast or before dinner, whose tail Duck’s fingers beg to caress.

His Indrid who is, at this moment, continuing his losing battle with earth music.

“How about this?”

Danke schoen, darling, danke schoen

Thank you for all the joy and pain

“Oh fuck no” Duck guffaws, “anything but him, ‘Drid, he’s a boner killer if there ever was one.”

“I don’t think he’s that bad, but I will be speaking to Vincent about his human music suggestions.”

“For the love of god, turn it off.” Duck flails for the remote.

Indrid sticks out his tongue, “Very well, but I am this close to pulling you down here and seeing if you can do any better.”

“You wouldn’t dare” Duck is still laughing, eyes closing as he does, which means he gets only a splash of warning before he’s yanked into the pool. He comes up giggling and spluttering, “now, is that any way to treat your husband?”

Indrid’s laugh is a siren song, “No, I suppose not.” The music clicks off as Indrid steadies him by curving his tail behind his legs, “how should I treat you instead?”

Duck drapes his arms over Indrid’s shoulders, “You been treatin me pretty damn well, dunkin me aside.”

A flicker of pink and yellow as Indrid rubs their cheeks together, “And if I wanted to be even better?”

“I, uh, I mean if you wanted to we could tryYYYYohfuck” he hunches forward as Indrid’s tail drags across his dick. The clothing on Aquaria is thin, so he can feel the cool scales tease his skin.

“Oh, oh dear, apologies, I was only trying to embrace you further, I forgot yours do not stay concealed until they’re needed.”

“You, you keep doin that and it’s gonna be needed real quick.”

“Oh?” red eyes narrow wickedly, “does my sweet husband need attending to?” Another drag of his tail, much more deliberate, and Duck grinds his hips in reply.

“Only if you want to.”

“I do, so very badly.” Indrid nuzzles his nose, “may I take a little while to acquaint myself with your wonderful body?”

“Uh huh.” Duck tugs his shirt off, throwing it onto the land and then giving his shorts the same treatment.

“Ohhhhhhyes.” Indrid purrs, fins and tails shimmering purple and gold. Then he sinks down, swimming in a slow, tight circle around the human. Pleased chirps and trills bubble up to Duck’s ears. Cool fingers play along his legs and belly, eventually finding his dick and offering an experimental stroke.

“Fuck” he groans, and Indrid does it again, kissing his navel as both hands rub and tease his dick and folds. Indrid is clearly experimenting, maybe even using his visions to guide him, and Duck eagerness to get off succumbs to just how fucking hot it is to have a partner this enrapt by his body, to have them explore it like some awe-inspiring landscape.

He spreads his hands out and runs them along Indrid’s torso and tail; the scales are just as wonderful under his fingers as he hoped, and he can feel Indrid sigh happily as he pets him.

Then lips close around his dick and he makes a series of undignified noises, digging one hand into Indrid’s hair to encourage him.

“Ohmyfuckinchrist, Indrid, yes, fuck please keep suckin like that.”

Indrid wiggles his whole body in response, happy trill underscored by a firmer suck. Duck can’t get enough of his body beneath his hands, of his mouth on Duck’s skin, and he wonders if someone can black out from how good a blowjob feels.

Indrid’s fin breaks the water and Duck runs an appreciative thumb along the top. Funny, there’s a little depression between it and the membrane of the fin. Curious, he drags his pinky along it.

The alien bursts upwards with a loud chirp of joy, “Ohgoodness, yes, oh that feels nice please do it again.”

“Yeah? My cute, needy husband need me to play with his fins to get off.”

“Not, not technically by my gods does he want you to.”

“Don’t worry darlin, I will--uh, ‘Drid? Is, is that your dick?”

Indrid follows his gaze to the thick, bumpy shaft emerging from his tail, it’s tip crowned with short, searching tendrils.

“Yes. Also an ovipositor, hence those lumps.”

“Holyfuck. Uh, I, I ain’t sure I’m ready for that yet.”

“That’s perfectly alright. Though it does mean my cock is not going into you tonight; I’m not sure I can control my bodily responses enough to avoid ovipositing accidentally.”

“Lots of others things we can do.” Duck bites the tip of one ear, making the other flare out.

“Indeed. I say we start with this.” Indrid’s tail encircles his waist just as Indrid shoves his cock between his thighs.

“Like, like the way you think sugar. Fuuuck, fuck that’s good.” The bumps from the eggs have just the right amount of give as he humps them, Indrid matching his tempo with his thrusts. He keeps his arms around his husbands neck, kissing him furiously. Indrid kisses back with a chirp, gold flashing in his scales, and Duck knows he won’t want to kiss anyone else for a long, long time.

The tip of Indrid’s cock bumps his ass and he groans at what that suggests about it’s size.

“I’m, I’m takin this fuckin perfect thing all the way before I go.” He bucks his hips harder to make his point, “gonna let you fuck me open on it, fill me up, wanna know what it’s like to cum with you inside me.”

“Oh gods” Indrid whimpers, hiding his face in Ducks neck as he squeezes his thighs together.

“And, and you’re gonna be a dutiful fuckin husband and fill me however I say, ain’t you?”

“Yes, yesofcourse, goodness Duck I, I’m-”

“Heh, you like that, mr high and mighty seer likes bein bossed around. Well, lucky you, because now that I know just how fuckin good you are at fuckin me, gonna have you doin it ever, fuckin, day.” He jerks his hips hard, three times, and Indric cums with a cry, cock pulsing as he sinks his teeth into Ducks shoulder. Duck doesn’t let up, chases his orgasm over the bumps and ridges until he nearly whites out with pleasure, clinging to Indrid tighter as his body gives up on supporting him.

After his cock retracts Indrid, still holding Duck up with ease, swims to the button that orders a cleaning cycle on the pool and deposits the human back on the stone.

“I dearly hope your team finds what you need on this planet so that I may see you beyond these few weeks.”

“Sex was that good?” Duck teases, petting Indrid’s hair as he lays his head in his lap.

“No. Or, well, yes, but more than that you are so, so very wonderful. I wish to get to know you more, to show you even more of my world and my skill in bed.”

Duck kisses the top of his head, “I hope so too.”

-----------------------------------------

Communication log between leader of Amnesty Mission at Astrobotanist Duck Newton.

Mama: Got some promising leads. Will be back to pick you up in three days.

Duck: Glad to hear it. But take your time, no need to rush only my account.

#Indruck #indrid cold/duck newton #mermay fills #alien au #terato

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needs-to-stop-looking-at-yigas · 4 years ago

Note

OOH can we see how Kohga would react to Mipha asking for relationship advice? Since she’d see how devoted and passionate Sooga is for his Master, and not really anyone else in their group is in a relationship soooo

I’m just obsessed with him just adoring Mipha and trying his ass off to get her and Link together it’s so cute

One, thank you for recognizing the fact that Kohga playing Mipha’s wingman is possibly the best idea I’ve EVER had. Two, I am SO ready to start this absolute soft shit. Smut is fun and all, but come on, Kohga trying to hook bitches up is amazing. And third, this got waay out of hand, so enjoy some double dates here.

“So, did you get me something?”

Sooga hardly left Master Kohga’s side. Whenever he had to, be it to lend a hand elsewhere; he had TWO rules to follow; come home to him at the end of the day, and bring him something. Kohga had been sitting here, having tea with Mipha, while Sooga offered to help Sidon hunt for sneaky river snails (Sooga had a real knack for knowing where to find them). They came back with quite the haul, so the fact that he managed to get anything else was nothing to scoff at. He put the large bag of fish down on the floor, and from his pockets, produced a small cage. Inside the cage was what appeared to be a winterwing butterfly. Kohga clapped his hands together, clearly loving it.

“Ooh, I’ve been looking for one of these!”

“I know. It was why I had to stop in the middle of fishing to catch it for you. I may have let Sidon fall in the water in my haste. Maybe.”

Mipha cocked her head to the side upon seeing his reaction to the small bug.

“You like bugs?”

“Just the butterflies. I only keep them for a day or two before I let them go, I just think they’re neat.”

Kohga took a hold of Sooga’s chin, grinning from ear to ear.

“And SOMEONE seemed to remember me saying I wanted this specific one. You’re such a sap, Sooga.”

Sooga was trying (and failing) not to smile.

“I listen to EVERY word you say, master Kohga.”

“Ugh, you’re being mushy again. Get outta my face, go help shark boy with the fish.”

Kohga tried to look mean as he gently pushed his face away, but it was plainly obvious; Kohga loved him. Sooga pardoned himself, hoisted the bag over his shoulder, and walked off with Sidon. Mipha took a sip of her tea, watching as Kohga lightly shook his head. She knew it was a bad emotion to feel, but she couldn’t resist feeling a bit jealous. They were so happy with one another, and yet, her own love and affections were clearly not recognized by the one boy she loved, more than anything. Perhaps…

“Kohga? Can I ask something?”

“Whatever you want.”

Kohga stopped ogling his boyfriend for a second and gave her his attention, snacking on the cookies she made, just for him (shaped in just the cutest seashells). She squirmed a bit in her seat, unsure of how to go about it, before she finally came out with it.

“How...did you get someone to love you, the way Sooga does?”

Kohga stopped eating for a second, looking at her sullen face. This little fish was just sweeter than banana bread, and it hurt poor ol’ Kohga to see her love so much, without Goldilocks even talking about it with her. Sure they were young, and they had forever to talk about this stuff, but there was no time like the present.

“Sooga is a fucking idiot, for one, and I attract idiots. Second, you kinda just. Come out with it. We started off as friends before anything, and that’s now all relationships start. Course, your case is a BIT different from mine. You want my honest opinion? Just shoot your shot. I mean, worst he’s gonna say is no. Or nothing with his mute ass…”

Kohga mumbled that last part, helping himself to another sip of tea. Realizing it didn’t seem to be very helpful, he sighed.

“Or, you could cook him something. Call me old fashioned, but my mama always said the quickest way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. I make mean salmon skin, look at the hunk I bagged.”

They both turned to look at Sooga, who was busy de shelling the fish alongside Sidon. Mipha pursed her little lips, before softly nodding.

“I...suppose that isn’t a bad idea at all. If I can find the courage in my heart to ask him.”

Just then, Kohga noticed Link walking alongside the princess. Small land, honestly. Kohga put his hands to the side of his face, crying out to Link.

“Yo Goldilocks! Mipha’s cookin’ tonight, you want in?!”

Link nodded, giving a thumbs up. Kohga shrugged.

“See? Easy. You just gotta be straightforward with boys.”

Mipha held her face in her hands, obviously embarrassed.

“But what do I do WHEN I make him something?! What do I say? What do I talk about with him?”

Kohga loved Mipha, really he did, but girl needed to stop seeing boys as a lynel, and more along the lines of wild horses. Something to tame, not to fear. He sighed.

“Tell you what. Me and Sooga will join you, sorta like a double date kinda deal. I’ll be there if the date goes bad, and we can dip when the date is going GOOD.”

Mipha looked up from the table with just the softest eyes you’ve ever seen.

“You...would do that, for me?”

“Course, lil red! You’re like, my favorite in the little team of goody two shoes. Plus, free eats, can’t complain-”

She suddenly got out of her seat, and nearly pounced on him for a hug. The things he did for love.

--------------------------------------------

“He here yet?”

“Not quite, but I’m just about done!”

Kohga came back a while later, alongside Sooga. Kohga had his own men helping her in the kitchen, setting up the dining room, everything she could need, Kohga helped with. Kohga scoffed as he put his gift on the dining room table (he’d be remiss if he didn’t bring something to drink for the occasion), lightly pulling up one of her fins, and scoffing.

“Okay, let the boys finish up. Sooga, get to work on this girl, she needs to focus on being as pretty as a fresh stack of banana pancakes.”

Sooga nodded, prompting Mipha to follow him to her bedroom. Kohga was about to see just what she was cooking, before the main doors flew open. Link. Aka, Goldilocks, aka, the guy that never fucking knocked. He was wearing the classic gerudo outfit. A real tits out look, and honestly Kohga would jump on that in a heartbeat.

“Goldilocks! Bit early! How you doing? Mipha will be ready in just a second, take a seat, lemme get you a drink!”

Link nodded. Kohga chatted him up for a minute, serving him a nice glass of banana wine (it’s actually VERY good). When he caught the eyes of Sooga, he pardoned himself and dipped into the hallway. He took one gander at Mipha, and gave a whistle.

“Girl look at YOU! Lookin’ prettier than a pack of opals!”

She really did look like a beauty. Freshly touched lipstick, sharpened nails, her silver jewelry replaced with gold, and instead of her usual blue sash, Sooga somehow managed to find time to make a blue, see through looking dress for her. It fit around her body snugly, but it was a loose, comfortable material, perfect for fashion, and function. Sooga was so talented, getting that together so quickly. Kohga nodded towards Link.

“Go keep him busy, gotta give this girl a pep talk.”

Sooga nodded. Once he left, Kohga carefully put his hands on her shoulders.

“Look at me. Lookin? Okay good. You like this guy, so be you. BUT, you need to let him know you’re interested. Be flirty. Touch his hands, compliment him, fucking, feed him from your plate- make it obvious. You’re a princess. He’s a knight, it’s GONNA happen.”

She nodded firmly, shoulder’s straight as a Lynel’s.

“I can do this!”

She peered over at Link, and immediately hid behind a wall again.

“I can’t do this! He’s wearing the voe armor!”

“For the love of…”

Kohga sighed. Why did he love all these shy bitches?

“Mipha. You’re gonna make HIM drool, not the other way around. Come on, you’ve got this. I’ll be right here, I’ll make you look good as hell. On three. One. Two. Three!”

He carefully pushed her towards the dining room, and Mipha looked ready to have a heart attack. Poor thing.

“Link! It’s so nice to have you over! I hope my invitation wasn’t sudden!”

Link shook his head. Kohga, sensing things were still awkward, jumped in. He was always the fun one at parties.

“Hey, you know what, we should totally start eating! I heard Mipha made quite the spread, Sooga why don’t you help bring the stuff out?”

Sooga nodded, heading into the kitchen. Kohga gestured for all of them to take a seat (with Mipha sitting right next to Link of course), and him just a bit away from them. Close enough to be supportive, but just far enough to beat it if he was cramping their style. Soon enough, trays of food were brought in, and even Kohga had to admit, he was starved.

“Master Kohga?”

“Yes, Sooga?”

“I’m sorry.”

He was about to ask what for, but then he saw it. Fish dish. Fish dish, not a single dish WASN’T fish. And he couldn’t just NOT eat her food, less he make Mipha’s food look awful. Kohga gulped, and Mipha seemed to catch onto his distress.

“Oh Kohga, I’m so sorry, I forgot you didn’t like fish! Please, let me make you-”

“Nope!”

Kohga could feel his ass sweating. He was really gonna sit here and eat fish, because Mipha deserved it. Link looked over at him, clearly just as confused as anyone else. Kohga forced himself to chuckle.

“I mean...I HATE clam chowder. A lot. It’s gross, it’s squishy, it smells AWFUL. Unless it’s Mipha’s. I LOVE Mipha’s clam chowder! She is just. SUCH a good cook, I could eat a whole bowl!”

Link looked him right in his face, grabbed a bowl, and filled it completely with clam chowder. He slid the bowl over to him, and Kohga wanted to throw up. That yucky, smelly smell of fish.

“Son of a bitch..I mean, yum! Thank you, Link.”

Mipha just had to like this blonde asshole. Sooga made a motion to grab the bowl, but Kohga halted him. He was going to do this for Mipha. He took a taste of it, and he fought every urge not to puke. Dear god, the smell and the taste was awful. But he forced himself to swallow, smiling.

“See? I l-like it! So it’s GOTTA be good! Mipha is just, so talented!”

Link seemed satisfied, helping himself to a bowl. Mipha looked at Kohga, clearly worried, but he shook his head.

“Make it up to me by getting some, Mipha.”

He muttered underneath his breath, forcing himself to eat more. Sooga had no problems, this asshole, eating fish like it was nothing. Mipha pretended like she didn’t know anything was wrong, giving her attention towards Link.

“So, Link! You’ve been over at the Gerudo desert, I take it. Urbosa is doing well, I trust?”

Kohga didn’t pay attention to the one sided conversation, too focused on handling the thick creamy broth. His stomach churned, his head hurt, and he was just. Dying. Not even Sooga could help him. He was going to bail, but he saw it in Mipha’s eyes. She was getting more nervous, and this was JUST from watching Link eat. Oh god this was a mess. He forced himself to think past the creamy mush still left in his bowl.

“So, Link, what do you think of Mipha’s new look? Nice right?”

Link looked her up and down, before giving Mipha a thumbs up. Her cheeks exploded in color, and she looked ready to just melt. Kohga tried not to gag at the fish burp he just had.

“And Mipha, thoughts on Link’s outfit?”

Mipha hesitated, letting herself get a look at him, totally not looking at that titty (atta girl), before softly nodding.

“You had it dyed white, it looks very...nice, Link. It really goes with your golden hair.”

Distracted by her thoughts, she played with a strand of his hair, before suddenly realizing what she was doing. They both looked away, buried in blush, just two, dumb, flirty messes. Oh his girl was KILLING IT. Kohga forced himself to gulp down his bowl (somehow not choking on the chunks), nearly gasping as he finished. Oh that was a mistake. That did NOT feel right. Didn’t matter, Mipha was GETTING somewhere with this guy. He whispered to her, nudging at her side.

“Offer him some of your food.”

“But? He has the same thing in-”

“Say yours is different. Just do it, trust me. Sooga! With me, kitchen, now.”

They dipped into the kitchen, and Sooga immediately handed him a bucket. Just in time for Kohga to purge his guts. Sooga patted his back, sighing.

“No one told you to finish the bowl, Kohga.”

“I am SUPPORTIVE, dammit! She deserves-”

Yet another purge of his guts. He groaned, relying heavily on Sooga to keep him upright.

“If it makes you feel better, I’m VERY proud of you. Going through so much for the sake of her happiness. You’re a wonderful person.”

“Sooga, that’s sweet, but dear god I’m throwing up here, shut the fuck up.”

Kohga was three for three, and he was wondering if it was worth it. Then he peered into the dining room. Mipha was spoon feeding him from her bowl, going so far as to scold him for his messy face, and cleaning it with a cloth napkin. It was adorable, it was sweet, and dear god was this worth it. Sooga chuckled, peering down at Kohga.

“You’re incredible, Master Kohga, letting her have this.”

“I AM pretty great, aren’t I?”

They sat there, watching them. For a moment, for a brief, sweet moment, she wasn’t shy. She was honest with herself, she was even just a bit flirty. And Link looked as if he wasn’t clueless. It was so goddamn sweet, it was worth every second of stomach pain. Kinda.

“Oh it’s coming again- he better marry this girl, or I’m starting the war all the fuck over again.”

He was complaining, sure. But he was really, honestly proud of his little Mipha. He’d do this again and again, if it meant getting to see such a sweet, happy smile.

He just prayed he didn’t have to.

#asks #kohga #mipha #sooga #link #listen #i was gonna make this waay longer #i had to cut myself off #because there are SO many double date ideas i can have for them

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leotssukinaga · 5 years ago

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Paper Hearts

Shirabu Kenjirou x Reader

Anon requested: 🔢 number 50 for one of your faves? Prompt #50: Paper hearts. Word Count: 1593 A/N: I’ve been deliberating on who to write this for for a week and this morning while writing my Shirabu hcs inspiration finally struck. Writing this fr brought me out of a bpd spiral, too. His power. Thank you for the request, nonnie! I hope you enjoy it! (theres a good chance Semi is ooc I did absolutely no research on him. pulled his characterisation outta my ass n said ‘thats good enough!’ *shrug*.)

Another paper heart flutters to the floor. You don't notice this one. Kenjirou does, though. He notices everything about you, including the fact that for the last week you've been struggling to pay attention in class, too busy staring at the tiny, heart-shaped scraps of coloured paper. He wonders who's giving them to you. He wishes it had been him. Some of them have notes scribbled on them, some are blank. You seem particularly fond of certain ones, he notices as they get more crumpled over the course of the week. There's at least 15 different ones, he's counted. He's been struggling to pay attention in class too. It's not the hearts that distract him. It's you. It's the wistful smile on your face as you stare at them, the way you rub your thumb over the words. He hates that you're thinking of someone else like that, rather than him. On the way out of the classroom, he picks up the one you didn't notice. Reading it turns out to be a mistake. He doesn't know why he keeps it.

Another week passes, and more hearts appear in front of you. He's sick of seeing them, sick of knowing your affections belong to someone else. Do you even know his name? Probably not and that just pisses him off even more. He's having to force himself to focus on things now, because all he thinks about is you and those stupid hearts. It probably doesn't help that the one he picked up is still on his desk. Why does he still have it? Why did he pick it up at all?

On the third week, he walks into class to see a paper heart on his desk. He'd have assumed you dropped it, but it's very deliberately placed. He reads it as he sits down. All it says is "Hi." but it makes his heart flutter. It shouldn't. There no proof you even gave it to him. Plenty of people give out paper hearts. There's another the next day, but this one is blank. Did the sender simply get too shy to write a note? He slips it in the front of his notebook nonetheless, and he finds his gaze on the back of your head more than usual that day.

It continues like this for a while; he'll come into class every day to a new heart. Some days he has more than one, some days he'd come back from lunch to another. All are blank except for the first, and you've still never glanced his way. By now, he's all but convinced they aren't from you. He keeps them, anyway. "Hey, what's up with you?" "Pardon?" He stares at Semi expectantly. "You're off your game recently." "It doesn’t matter." "We all know you're an overachiever, but you've been shit at volleyball these past few weeks and you don't seem to care. Which means somethings up, and I care about my teammates. So what's your problem?" "Its nothing." He turns to stalk away, scowling as usual, but Semi grabs the back of his shirt. "What's their name?" "What? It's not-! I don't want to talk about it, please let go." "I'm not letting go until you spill." "I hate that you assumed I was hung up over someone." "Was I right?" ".... Damn." "I've seen my fair share of love-struck idiots, Shirabu. Tell me what's wrong." "I don't know. It's confusing. I- I don't like the way they make me feel." "Like your heart wants you to run a marathon but you've got legs made of lead and your lungs are filling with water?" "That's- that's exactly it, yeah." "You've got it bad. Did you tell them?" Kenjirou scoffs. "Please, I doubt they even know my name. But that's not even the issue. They've been getting these little heart-shaped pieces of paper recently- which is really fucking distracting-" "Language." "Sorry. It's so distracting watching them fiddle with them in class when I'm right there and they've never even looked at me. And if that wasn't enough, 2 weeks ago I started getting them. And I know it's just a coincidence but-" "What if it's not?" Semi interrupts. "I'm sorry?" "Hear me out. What if they haven't been receiving them, but they've been making them for you all this time and only just worked up the courage to give them to you?" "I don't- that's probably not it." "Do the hearts say anything?" "The first one said 'hi' but none of the others have." "Did you check both sides?" “Oh."....No." "Aw, come on Shirabu, I thought you were smart." "I am! Just- I don't know how these things work!" Semi lets out a laugh at his kouhai's incredulous expression. "Go check both sides. If they're really blank, we'll find a solution. If they're not- talk to them." "Thanks, Semi." The setter nods, finally letting go of his shirt, and walks away. Had he really not thought to check both sides? God, it was like you'd taken his brain as well as his heart.

When he arrives at his dorm that evening, he pulls the small box he'd been putting the hearts in from the drawer in his desk, and begins to search them. Semi had been right, of course. He doesn't even notice he's holding his breath as he reads them. He'd stored them in the order you'd given them to him, and he starts with the second one. It's pastel blue, and you must have used a scalpel rather than scissors, because the edges are perfect. Either that, or everything you do is perfect no matter the odds. That wouldn't surprise him. "You're cute." "I mean, you probably know that but" "Sorry I ran out of room on that one" "that one too... my point is that you're cute!" "Its distracting, actually." "But- I really admire your work ethic." "And your concentration." "I don't have the best attention span." "I don't think you're reading these." "You're not, are you?" "Ouch. I'm gonna keep writing them anyway." "If you're not reading these I can tell the truth." "We've spoken twice." "I can recall every word you've ever said to me." "You're a little grumpy and mean sometimes." "But that's endearing and I hate you for it." "You probably don't even know my name." "But I know yours. Wanna know mine?" "It's L/N Y/N." "I'm L/N Y/N and I think I'm in love with you." "How stupid is that? Being in love with a boy you've met twice?" "I'm crazy, right?" "I'm so glad you don't read these." "If you ever do read them, though..." "Could you tell me how you feel about me?" "Even if you hate me. I wanna know." The last one, the one he'd received today, has a simple question written on it, completely irrelevant to all of the others. "You play volleyball, right?" He decides that’s a good jumping-off point.The next day, he gets to class 10 minutes early, and waits. He practically jumps out of his seat when you walk in, all the other people in the room completely put out of his mind. "L/N!" "Sh-Shirabu?" "Hi... I uh- I just...I wanted to tell you that I do. Uh- play volleyball, I mean." "You read them?" He's not sure whether it’s anxiety or glee that’s more prevalent in your expression, but both are certainly playing a part. "Yeah! I wasn't not reading them on purpose, I uh... I didn't think to turn them over." A giggle escapes you, sweet and melodic and he could kissed you right now, but he doesn’t. Your expression switches from amusement to concern in a heartbeat. "I said... A lot of personal things in them. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable." "No! You could ne- Actually, a lot of what you said is... I've been thinking the same things." "You have?" "Yeah. D'you think maybe we could... you know..." "Date?" "Yeah, that." "You're not the best with people, are you?" "Not really." "That's okay, neither am I." A soft kiss pressed against his cheek almost has him falling apart at the seams. He is so comically in love with you. "I'd love to date you, Shirabu." "Call me Kenjirou." "As long as you call me Y/N." "Of course. Could you- Can i ask something of you?" "Name it, Kenjirou." God, that sounds so beautiful from your mouth. It’s as if you've breathed new life into the name he'd thought nothing of for years; as if you've revived it into something perfect. "Don't stop writing me notes?" Somehow, your smile is brighter than anything he's ever seen, dimming the light streaming through the window and throwing everything but you into shadow. He doesn't mind, you're all he wanted to look at anyway. "As long as you read them this time." When the two of you are distracted in class that day, it's not some colourful scraps of paper that steal your concentration. It’s the glances you give each other and the soft smiles sent back and forth.

Years down the line, he'll pull a nondescript box out of a cupboard and open it to hundred of small paper hearts. He’ll laugh at the sudden nostalgia and call you into the room, and the two of you will put aside your plans for the night to read them together, reminiscing on your high school years, more in love with every second that passes. For now, though, he's just happy to bask in the warmth of your smile. And you're just happy being his.

#my writing #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu imagines #hqappreciation #shirabu #shirabu kenjirou #shirabu x reader #shirabu kenjirou x reader

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aurodontdoit · 4 years ago

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Sabo x Reader Fanfic: Chapter 1:

"Get her!"

"Don't let that little witch get away!"

Running through the streets, and into the forest, away from trouble I went. At that moment, I was being chased by some brats from Goa Kingdom that were looking to teach me a lesson for hitting a noble's son for grabbing me so roughly, it was absolutely seen as an ill tempered thing of a lady to do… but I also used my magic to give him an atomic wedgie.

My name is Y/n, I'm a 12 years old witch, and I am afraid.

"Shit…" I muttered under my breath as I had been met with a dead end.

As the boys closed in on me, I prepared for my death by praying that I go to a good place when I die.

"Time for us to teach you a lesson, witch!"

I gulped before covering my face with my hands as the last thing I see is the glistening metal of the dagger above my head, illuminating in the light of the midday sun, mocking me, reminding me that my time is now-

"Hey you bastards! What do you think you're doing on our turf!?!" A voice called causing the boys to turn their attention to who called them and away from my quivering form.

"Oh thank the maker…"

"Who the hell are you!?!" The malcontented noble child barked at two boys standing on a rock.

"Answer our question first, and we'll answer yours, jerk!" A freckled Raven haired boy who looked no older than 10 sneered.

"He's either crazy, brave, or stupid…"

The Noble child roughly grabbed me by my hair before putting a knife to my throat, causing the two boys standing on a rock to frown even more

"See, this girl hit my little brother, so me and my buddies are teaching her a lesson." He smirked.

I squeaked at the feeling of the cold sharp blade on my neck, keeping quiet, I looked to the two boys, pleading for help.

The other boy standing on the rock had short curly blonde hair wearing a tophat with goggles, blue shorts and a dark blue peacoat, with a tattered cravat on his neck. His eyes widened as he saw me, before his gaze softened and he nodded before turning to my assailant and getting into a defensive stance.

"Let's see, she has a pretty face, some smooth skin begging to be touched… how about I mark up that face of yours? That oughta teach you, you witch!" He moved his blade, getting ready to cut me, but once again, a miracle happened. The Raven haired boy knocked the Noble brat out with his metal pipe.

"Keep your hands off of her! You brute!!" The other boy roared as he began knocking the noble guys goons out one by one with one swing of his metal pipe.

Once the borish jerks were rendered incapacitated, the two boys began to walk away. The Raven haired one looked over his shoulder.

"...you coming or not?" He called.

I didn't even blink before nodding in agreement, and so I began to follow them back.

"... Umm thank you for helping me." I spoke softly.

The blonde boy smiled at me "no problem! You're not hurt are you?" He asked.

I shook my head "no… I'm okay."

"So why did they call you a witch?"

"Pardon?"

The Raven haired boy sighed in annoyance

"Why did they call you a witch?" He spoke slowly.

"Because I hit a boy for grabbing me too roughly… he kept pulling my hair so I hit him with a book." I explained.

"Well, that's not a very good reason to call you a witch." The blonde concluded.

I wanted to tell them about the atomic wedgie I gave him, but I figured it was a one way ticket to getting burned at the stake.

"So who are you?" The freckled boy asked.

"My name is Y/n, to whom do I owe my thanks?" I introduced myself in a soft voice, cursing my formal speech.

"I'm Sabo, Y/n… Nice to meet you." He smiled.

"And I'm Ace. Try to keep your ass outta trouble, got it?" He smirked.

I nodded and smiled.

"So where do you live?" Sabo asked.

"G-Grey Terminal… with my family."

"Wait then why were nobles chasing you?" Ace asked.

I flinched and trembled "I was running away from my aunt… she uses me as a stand-in daughter in an effort to raise her social status. A noble with a cute daughter is much more desirable to be wed to another noble… I felt like a horse up for auction." I huffed while puffing out my cheeks, causing Sabo to chuckle and pat my back comfortingly.

"You're in a safe place now, Y/n, So don't worry, your aunt won't find you." He smiled. I noticed he was missing a tooth.

"This boy… does he understand me?"

I felt a slight heat rise to my cheeks at the sight of his adorable smile.

"So what about you guys? You live around here too?" I asked.

"Yeah. We live at Mount Colubo." Ace replied.

"Oh with Curly Dadan?" I asked curiously

"Wait how did you know?" Sabo asked as they both turned their attention to me.

"My mom is an herbalist, so she brings herbs and poultices to Dadan… sometimes, she'll send my little sibling, Rhi." I answered.

"My mom told me about her, but I never knew she had sons." I admitted causing the boys to laugh

"We're not her kids! She just takes care of us, and we live with her!" Ace laughed.

"So she is like a foster mom?" I asked, perplexed.

"Kinda. We'll explain later. Come on, we should probably get you home before it's dark." Sabo smiled softly while wiping a tear from his eye from laughing too hard.

As we walked back, we talked and laughed like we were all close friends. Every now and then I'd catch Sabo glancing at me as I laughed or smiled at something Ace said. When I'd catch him, he'd blush and look away, only causing me to giggle softly at his adorable actions. I truly didn't want this day to end, but sadly, every rose has its thorn. Once I got back to my place, I noticed how Sabo looked a little melancholy.

"Thanks again for helping me, guys. I really appreciate it." I smiled warmly at them.

Sabo blushed and grinned while Ace hid his blush by looking away

"Don't mention it, Y/n… it's not like we care… just don't be stupid, and get yourself into trouble again. We're not always gonna help, y'know." Ace looked away trying to conceal his blush.

I smiled and giggled before hugging them.

"Blessed be, you two." I prayed softly before pulling away. The two boys flinched, but slowly returned the hug. Once we parted, I went back inside, and off to bed, hoping to see them again someday as I stared at the moon.

My name is Y/n, I am a 12 year old witch, and I have made new friends.

#sabo the revolutionary #sabo x reader #fan fic #sabo one piece #AutumnRoseWrites #fanfiction

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maddogofshimano · 4 years ago

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Lee Wen Hai Character Story

Minor Y0 Spoilers

Alright it’s been a little bit but I was doing other nonsense like ripping all the substory text out of Y0. Anyways!

Sotenbori’s God Hand, Lee Wen Hai. I really love this dude.

Summary: Lee is attempting to leave his life as a hitman behind for good, but a local organized crime group’s executive is asking him to do one more job. Things get messy, which is exactly what Lee was worried about.

<A few months after Makoto began working with Lee Wen Hai> Lee: Ya don't gotta push with much force. Just let your body weight handle it.

Makoto: Don't use force, use my body weight... umm, like this?

Lee: Nah, you're bein' too timid about it. Don't worry about hurtin' your old man none. (Tl note: I had to re-read this line a LOT but I’m like 90% sure Lee is just straight up calling himself her dad) Makoto: Y... Yes sir! Lee: ....Oh, that's gettin' a bit better. Now, your palm is one half of a conversation with the muscles. Makoto: There's a lot to massages, isn't there...! I'll study hard! Lee: Though, why do ya wanna do massages anyways? You're my guest, ya know it's fine if ya don't work, right? Makoto: You've done so much or me, I can't help but feel a little guilty... So I'd like to be helpful to you Lee-san, even if only a little. Lee: (After all the awful shit she's gone through, she's still a good kid...) Makoto: I've got a an older brother. He's really smart, and a hard worker so... I hope I can become more like him. Makoto: ....Lee-san, you remind me a little of my brother. Lee: Heh... So this brother, ya came over to Japan together? Makoto: No... when I was just a child, my brother disappeared... I haven't seen him since. Makoto: However, for some reason he showed up in Japan... Eventually, somewhere in Japan, I'm sure I'll meet him again. Lee: ...Alright. I'll help ya look for him too. It may not seem it, but I got some connections I can pull scattered all over. Makoto: Th-That's... I could never ask you to go that far... Lee: I'm your stand-in dad... nah, I'm standing in for your older brother. It may be corny, but you can rely on me for anythin'. (Tl note: the term Lee uses here is actually foster father, but it was hard to word well with the bit about her brother) Lee: So let's get lookin' for your real brother then.

Makoto: Lee-san... Lee: ...Huh? Y-You're cryin'!? I wasn't tryin' to make ya cry! Makoto: It's just... Since I came to Japan, I've never been treated this kindly... Lee: Geez, uh, I'm really no good when girls cry! I'm beggin ya, don't cry any more! Makoto: Okay... sorry... Lee: I was seriously... Organization Executive: Yo, am I interrupting? (Tl note: They’re pretty vague on things for a long time, but he’s part of the yakuza, so I’ll use appropriate terms so I don’t have to say “organization” over and over to stay generic) Makoto: Ah... welcome! Lee: ....Makoto, today's lesson is finished. How bout you head on home first. Makoto: Ah, yes sir. Thank you for today... Exec: That girl, seems like she can't see. Where'd you find her?

Lee: It's got nothin' to do with you. Why'd ya come here today anyways. If it's about a "job", you're barkin' up the wrong tree. I ain't in that business anymore. Exec: Haw? What do you mean? Lee: I mean exactly what I said. I ain't takin' "jobs" anymore. Exec: And would that possibly be... because of that girl? Lee: That ain't related. Either way, it doesn't change the fact that I've already decided that I ain't gonna do it! Exec: ...Well, you do have the freedom to go from a hitman to a civilian. In the end, however, you'll agree to take this contract. Exec: In the same way that blood and law are tied together, so too is our organization and its members. ...Still, your case is pretty straight forward. Lee: What do ya mean? Exec: You know too much of the underbelly of the organization. You know what that entails. Lee: .......... Exec: As a talented hitman, you could leisurely stroll around Sotenbori. Now that you're a civilian however..... Lee: The well informed acupuncturist will get erased, is what you're sayin'. Exec: That's it exactly. Lee: Heh, I already knew I was riskin' getting snuffed. Ain't the first threat of it, and it don't change how I feel. Exec: You're a stubborn bastard huh... Well, ultimately you'll help me with my job. Lee: What makes ya say that? Exec: Despite how I look, I'm an executive in the organization. I can talk to any of the higher ups directly. Exec: All I have to say is that this civilian's been meddling. Of course, I'd rather you just clean up this job. Lee: I've already decided I ain't killin' anymore. How many times do I gotta tell ya, I ain't takin' that job! Exec: It's fine if you don't kill. Really, I just want you to get a little violent. Lee: Huh....? <They head out> Exec: Inside this bar is a gang that I want you to knock around. Of course, it's fine if you don't kill them.

Lee: ...Is that really gonna be okay? Exec: Mhm, this job will be a cinch for you. ...Of course, I tried to tell you that. You just didn't want to listen. Lee: When it's a job from guys like you, it's never been simple... <he goes inside the bar> Lee: Pardon the intrusion.

Goon: Eh? Geezers ain't allowed in this bar. You can go drink cheap booze with your own family.

Goon 2: We're renting the place out right now. Before you get scared shitless, don't you think it'd be a good idea to head on home? Lee: Heh... you brats sure have a mouth on ya. Too bad I went and grew a conscious before I could bury ya. Goon: What the hell did you say! You want us to throw you out on your ass!? <fight, Lee crushes them> Goon: G-Guh.....

Lee: What, it's already over? That gang was all bark and no bite. Exec: Finished? Lee: Yeah, they won't be standin' up any time soon. I stopped before it got to anythin' dangerous. Exec: As expected, you did everything exactly to the letter. It'll be quick to get them to cough up what I'm after. Exec: Oi! You two, do you know a man called Iwai? That asshole has something he was supposed to be watching. Goon 2: I-Iwai, it's been a long time since we've seen him..... Exec: Covering for him isn't going to be good for you! If you don't want to die, hurry up and spit it out! Goon 2: Honest! I'm serious, I don't know any more than that! Exec: Tch...... Hey, what do you think!? Is Iwai going to come here!? Goon: He won't...! He ran off to join some family and totally cut ties with us! Exec: ....Lee, these bastards, do you think they're lying? Lee: Hmm. Well, this group ain't exactly fearless. The whole crew is already pissin' their pants. Exec: Looks like they really are separate... <they head back outside> Lee: This job's done. Well, I'm headin' home.

Exec: No, the job isn't over yet. I know it's a bother, but I'll need you to stick with me a little while longer. Lee: Oi... you're changin' our deal. I just did your damn job! Exec: I told you this job was to tidy things up. That was supposed to clean things up, but the plan went off the rails. Lee: Piece of shit... Exec: Let's get going to our next destination then. Or would you rather I speak with my higher ups? Lee: That's different than what ya said earlier. You're a real weaselly guy. Exec: Let's say that you don't continue with this job, this world wouldn't speak kindly of that, right? Lee: You're gettin' ahead of yourself. Whackin' some chinpira is one thing, sniffin' after the Osaka yakuza will land ya in a world of hurt. Lee: Even if ya take me along as a body guard, there's nothin' stoppin' your business partner from pumpin' ya fulla lead. Lee: The jobs ya bring me are always this way. Without exception they're a pain in the ass that I get tangled up in. Exec: And yet you always get them done in the end, don't you? I'm going to buy that arm of yours once more. Exec: I'm begging you, Lee. Lend me your power one more time. Lee: ......I had just stopped stickin' my neck out like this and ya had to go and say stuff like that... Lee: I just gotta know somethin'. What is it that you're chasin' down? Exec: Our group's stolen cash... 200,000,000 yen. Lee: Hmm... that is a hefty sum. Exec: The amount doesn't matter to our organization, it's our pride that's been wounded. We absolutely must get that money back. Exec: If the money is returned via your cooperation, then my organization will no longer be able to touch you. Doesn't that sound like a good job? Lee: Keh, so that's your game. Awful patronizin' to say it that way. Lee: ....Eh, whatever. This is the last time I'll be workin' with ya. <END PART 1>

Exec: Ora! <punch>

Exec: Cough it up already, Iwai! <punch> Iwai: ......... Exec: There you have it. No matter how many times he's beaten he's not talking. Hmm... I guess these fists just aren't going to cut it. Exec: These guys that don't squeal, they really know how to take a hit. Well, no use beating on him for no reason. Lee: And this guy, he's the mastermind that ran off with your cash? Exec: Mhm, by the time I caught wind of it, he'd already hidden the money. Lee: What a lousy job. Exec: My kyoudai was preparing our payment to the government. To get him out of that jam, I have to keep looking. (Tl note: I’m assuming it’s a bribe, but I’m not actually sure! It might be a tributary payment up to the main branch but I can’t find much one way or the other on that) Lee: So you're coverin' for your kyoudai, huh. Exec: I agree that this job isn't worth it. But, for my kyoudai's sake, I'm going to keep searching for that cash. Exec: This guy's in a totally different league from that gang. No matter how much you torture him, he's not going to cough up the location. Lee: Hey, lemme have a go at squeezin’ it outta him. Exec: Sure, be my guest. I'm going to go ice my knuckles.

Lee: Well then... Iwai-san, let's get started. Nice to meet ya. Iwai: .............. <fade to black> Lee: Ya don't wanna know what kinda torture I got. Ya should talk fast. Iwai: ................. Lee: Do ya intend to stay quiet till ya croak? If that's your decision, ya gotta know you'll be tortured the whole time. Iwai: ............... Lee: If ya really ain't gonna talk, you've got some guts. Unfortunately no amount of guts or backbone is gonna get ya outta this. Iwai: .............. Lee: Eh, I get the picture. Well, let's get started. First off the nerves in your shoulder. Give ya a taste of the painful death you've settled on. Iwai: .............. Lee: (.....Hm?) Iwai: ...........? Lee: I couldn't recognize ya with how bad your face is swollen. You've been to Hogushi Kaikan before. I recognize the feel of this. Iwai: ............ Lee: Yeah, your shoulder was always real stiff. I'm rememberin' it now. ...Say, didn't ya always come by with a skinny lady? Iwai: ............. Lee: Ya both came in durin' the middle of the day smellin' like cheap soap. In the middle of the dry skin on her back, there's a bodhisattva inked in. Iwai: ............. Lee: Yeah, a soapland worker. Think I outta make her aware of this? Iwai: She's got nothing to do with this! Lee: Finally ya gave me somethin'. Though it wasn't very clear. Seems like that cash, well it must be hidin' in the same place as that soapland worker. Iwai: She really has nothing to do with this! Believe me! Lee: Seems I'll have to go hear that from her myself. Once I get there, I'll do some lookin' around. Iwai: I-I'm begging...! She... That woman, please forget about her! Lee: Man, you're a real fool. Not only did ya fall for a soapland worker, ya went and gave her all the family's cash too. Lee: And what, ya planned on stayin' silent till ya got beaten to death? Iwai: With all that money... she wouldn't have to work that job anymore... At least, that's what I thought... Lee: You really are a dang idiot... But, I'm the same kind of guy.

Iwai: Eh...? Lee: Hang tight. <Lee leaves> Exec: Oh? Did you get him to spill?

Lee: He said he left it at a soapland. Exec: Haw!? Of all the stupid shit. That bastard, does he think this is a game! Lee: Yeah, he probably does. Still, only one way to be sure. <Lee leaves> Barker: Sir, sir, would you like to spend some time playing today?

Lee: Yeah, I think I will. I think I'll pick a lady who's inked up with a bodhisattva. Barker: Huh...? Lee: It's a pretty flashy tat. I'm sure ya know which shop she's in. Barker: Wh-What are you saying! Do you think I know every single soapland worker around here!? Lee: If that's the case I'll just have to search through 'em all myself. I might as well start with your shop and give it an examination. Barker: A-A weird customer is on his way over! Please, get the conflict resolution people! Yakuza: Hello, we're this area's "conflict resolution" people. Sir, I'm afraid you're making a bit of a scene.

Yakuza 2: If you're determined to play anyways, how about you play with us instead? Though, our play time might get a little rough for an old timer like you. Lee: You got some soft 'n' green asses. I'll have to work 'em over a lil. (Tl note: Lee says their asses are green and mochi-like, and that he's going to 揉む them a little which is. uh. usually rub/massage. fellas the homoeroticism of this posturing is pretty intense) <they fight> Yakuza: Wh, some other family's messing with us! Someone, phone HQ for reinforcements....!

Lee: Aww, don't go kickin' up a fuss. We were just playin' around. Lee: I ain't gonna cause another racket on your turf. I'm just looking for a soapland lady who's got a bodhisattva tattoo. Yakuza: Bodhisattva tattoo... Lee: Seems like ya know her. Which shop? Yakuza: The discount shop on the first corner.... Her name is... Niru, I'm pretty sure.... Lee: Niru, huh. Thanks, that helps. <he goes> Lee: Pardon me.

Niru: Eh....?

Lee: So you're Niru-san, huh. This shop seems to be pretty empty. Niru: Who are you... you’re that massage shop's... You're... not a customer, are you. Lee: Hey, Iwai told me to come here for somethin'. Niru: ............. Lee: He gave ya somethin' to hold onto. He needs ya to hand it over to me. Niru: I-I don't know what you’re talking about... I'm not holding onto anything... Lee: Well that's a lie. Right now there's gonna be a mess of problems if ya don't hand it over. Niru: Problems... Lee: Do ya wanna end up fish food in the Sotenbori River? Niru: .....! Lee: That's the kinda thing you're dealin' with here. If ya understand that, just cooperate and hand it over. Niru: ......... <suitcase hits the ground> Niru: That person, he brought that suitcase and promised he'd be back to see me later... but, it's been more than two days since I've seen him... Lee: Did ya look inside it? Niru: No... Lee: That's good. See ya. <Lee leaves> Niru: Th-That man, what happened to him!? Is he okay!? Please! Don't kill that man! Exec: Ohh, you got it all back! What kind of torture did it take to get it!?

Lee: It took something much more painful than torture. Exec: Hehe, well, as long as the money's returned, it's all good! Though, was it really being held onto by a soapland worker.... Iwai: ......... Lee: I've got somethin' I need ya to do. Help this man out. Exec: Huh? After this guy took my family's cash? There's no way I can keep the blame off of him. Lee: I ain't askin’. Exec: Oy oy, what's all this about. Whether this jackass lives or dies, that doesn't really affect you does it? Lee: He made a promise to his girl. Exec: A promise....? Hahaha! Man, are you a weirdo or what!? Iwai: Ugh.... Lee: Huh...! Exec: Of course I'm going to kill him! And I'm going to kill that soapland worker too! And then... <pistol noise> Lee: Guh...! Exec: I'll kill you too. Lee Wen Hai. <END PART 2>

Lee: Guh... Exec: Hehehe... The professional killer Lee, putting another person's life above his own. Are you getting senile? Lee: Mother fucker! Exec: Uh oh, looks like you can't move. Must be from that hole through your stomach. Lee: You planned on killin' me from the start...! Exec: I'd heard you'd stopped taking jobs after you picked up that girl. It was pretty clear that you wanted to wash your hands of this business. Exec: That made this the perfect time to ask you to do this "job". Lee: ....... Exec: This cash really was stolen from my organization. But, it's not my kyoudai's cash. It was being prepared by an asshole I despise. Exec: That arrogant bastard came preaching to me about preparing his 100 million. I got so mad that I wanted to kill him. Exec: So that got me thinking. Who was stupid enough that I could tempt into stealing the payment? Lee: That idiot, he was... Exec: Mhm, and that man, he's the driver for that arrogant bastard. He's stupid and always having money trouble, so he was the ideal piece. Exec: I went to talk to him at his hideout with his crew. Exec: The suitcase I had with me had around 100 million yen in it, but I was being pretty careless. Lee: ................. Exec: And then of course that moron really went and took the money and fled. After that, I had to figure out what bait to use. Exec: He'd be captured wherever he was hiding. After he was disposed of, I'd use that money to gain favor in the family. Exec: That insufferable bastard would be disgraced... and everything would be perfect for me to advance. Exec: I didn't expect him to hand two hundred million yen over to that soapland worker... That guy, he's really a bigger idiot than I could have imagined. Lee: That's a shitty picture you've just painted. I did learn one thing from it... Exec: Ah, thank you. ...Well, that's enough of my bragging. Exec: I'll be sure to pass along the information about you. "He became a civilian and has run off somewhere" is what I'll say.

Lee: Ya really don't get it. It turns out, you're the one with no end game here. Exec: Oh...? Are you going to be a sore loser right at the end? Lee: Earlier, why didn't ya follow me when I went out? Exec: Nobody would believe that all that money had been entrusted to a soapland worker. But, with that in mind, how is my endgame a problem? Lee: When I was out I called your organization. Exec: Haw...!? Lee: When an organization is tryin' to retrieve cash, they don't make moves by themselves. Normally, they use foot soldiers. Lee: Plus, I was angry that I had already gone back on my promise to stop doin' this sort of thing. I figured I should know what kind of shape the family was in. Lee: And ya wanna know what one of your boys over there told me that really surprised me? <stabbing sound> Exec: Y-You piece of shit...! How did you...! Exec: Guh! Shit, the gun...! Lee: C'mon ya amateur, yer gettin' shaken and flustered. If it's me throwin' needles, it's more accurate than any gun.

Exec: Flustered...? That stuff about calling my family was a lie!? Lee: I really did call 'em. In fact, they're gonna be here soon. Exec: Wh-... Lee: I didn't expect ya to put a hole in my gut though... Ah well, I can handle a handicap. Exec: Handicap....? Lee: I'm gonna kick your ass before your organization shows up! If I'm workin' with this sorta handicap, it should make for a good fight! <they fight, Lee does in fact kick his ass> Exec: Gah....

Lee: Guess a single hole wasn't enough of a handicap. The guys from your organization haven't even shown yet. Lee: ...Hey, Iwai, you still alive? Iwai: G-Guh... Lee: Seems like bein' that stupid has made ya real tough. The members of your organization will be here soon. Ya better scram before it's too late. Iwai: I-... Is that okay..? Lee: Ya made that lady a promise. If ya break it you'll never sleep easy again. I'll smooth talk the boys. Get outta here. Iwai: I-I'm in your debt! <Iwai leaves> Lee: That guy also had a hole through his guts... He really is powerfully stupid. (Tl note: the line kind of implies he’s powerful because he’s stupid) Exec: Heh..... People sure do change when they get involved with a woman... Lee: Ah? You're already awake. Ya lookin' for round two? Exec: Don't even joke about it... Though, it is a relief... Lee: What is? Exec: That softness... it's going to kill you one of these days... I think before too long, we'll meet each other again in hell...

Lee: Say what ya like. I ain't dyin'. <door opens and the family boys come in> Goon: ...Oh, ouch. Our backstabber looks like shit.

Goon: You're an executive too. When someone betrays our organization... I'm sure you know what happens...? Exec: Shut up... Just do whatever you like to me, I don't care... Goon: Fine by me! Boys, end him! <beating noises> Another Exec: You're the hitman, Lee? Where's the money?

Lee: Here it is. Seems like it's all accounted for. Exec 2: ...Sure enough. Where is the man who took the money? The kid who drove for me. Lee: Ah, that matter has already been cleaned up Mr. Executive. If ya'd like to find him, maybe try lookin' around the mountains next year? Exec 2: ...That's good. You've done me a favor. If you ever need one in return, you need only ask. Lee: I think I got one thing ya can do for me in return. Exec 2: What's that? Lee: I'm becomin' a civilian. I'd like for ya to square that away. Exec 2: Is that all? Lee: Yep, just that. Exec 2: ...Understood. I’ll handle it. I'll stake my honor on it. Lee: Well, if that's all, I'm gonna head on home. <Lee starts to leave> Lee: ...Ah, if ya ever have any aches and pains come see me. I'll fix ya up at Sotenbori's Hogushi Kaikan.

Exec 2: Haha... Yeah, I'll stop by next time I'm in the area.

Makoto: Press with my own body weight...

Lee: Oh, that's feelin' just right. Ya got some surprising talent for this. Makoto: Do you really think so!? I've been practicing on our regulars during lunch hours, so maybe that's why I've improved this much. Lee: Heh, and now we got even more regulars. Makoto: Yeah, like that one lady. She always smells like really nice soap. Lee: ...That customer, has she been comin' in alone? Makoto: Yes, by herself... Why do you ask? Lee: Nah, it's nothin'. I'm always happy to get more regulars. Makoto: This time she did say she wanted a massage from you, Lee-san. It sounded like she might be someone you've met before. Lee: (The soapland worker? I wonder if she'll ask me about that idiot man next time we meet...) Lee: ...Next time that customer comes in askin' for me, tell her I ain't gonna do it. Lee: I'd rather my apprentice get in some more practice. Makoto: Hehe, sure. Lee: Outside of that, anythin' odd happen? Makoto: Anything odd? Hmmmm, nothing recently. Lee: Alright. That's good. Though, if anythin' does happen tell me right... OW!? Makoto: Eh...!? Lee: That's where the gun... I mean, that's where I had a surgery! The wound opened! Makoto: I-I'm so sorry! Lee: I got a serious request... Let's start this from the beginning! Today's trainin' will be tough! Makoto: Yes sir! I'm ready to go!

<END>

Bonus time: man, Lee just can’t catch a break! it’s really interesting seeing this and the sugoroku event, Lee keeps sticking his neck out for people because he’s a good dude and it always goes to shit but he just keeps doing it anyways! I love him. After years and years and years of Kiryu dancing around ever saying he’s Haruka’s dad I was so taken aback by Lee just saying it outright. It hasn’t even been that long!

also ouch! what a called shot by that exec! I hate that he’s completely right

I’m not really sure what happened to the other 100 mil, since 200 mil did get mentioned twice, or if I just misread something? It’d make sense if it were 100 mil from each executive but it was not super clear to me. I’m also not sure if Makoto saying that Niru smelled like really nice soap implies that Iwai did get her 100 mil still, or if it’s just a difference in world view where Lee thinks it smells cheap and Makoto thinks it’s nice. Iwai wasn’t with her, and she still smells like soap at noon, so I’m leaning towards her not getting the money

during the Y0 event they had The Grand as a location you could send teams to so they’d gather items for you. I sent Lee and..........

Lee. Lee I think they need those. Lee c’mon.

actually... were... were those just lying around in the Grand...? 😳😳😳

#yakuza #ryu ga gotoku #Lee #Lee Wen Hai #ryu ga gotoku online #rggo #Makoto #Makoto Makimura #hello to all the new followers too!#I am here to give you more Lee content #yakuza 0

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goliath-de-senfina-sango · 5 years ago

Text

New People

Danny personally felt that he was well within his rights to be a bit weirded out by what was going on. He was on his way to school, getting interrupted by some half-formed spider ghost with threads all over the place that he had to dodge out of the way of before he could even get close to shooting it, Tucker was freaking out and Sam was doing her best to shoot away the webs that Danny actually got caught in. It took quite a bit of time to squish much of the bug and then get it in the thermos. During this time, Danny got hit by its pincers and bitten, and the wound was exposed and dripping ectoplasm and some thick purple goop that he assumed was venom. Things were the standard amount of bad.

The unusual thing was when a ghost with blue skin, pink eyes, and rippling hair that shifted colors between red, yellow and orange flew up to him and gently grabbed his arm. And then he pulled out a cotton ball from his pocket and started dabbing Danny’s wound. “Yikes, this is a nasty bite. You’re Danny Phantom, right? The bridge spirit?”

“Uh,” Danny looked down at his friends, who shrugged, weapons trained on the newcomer. “Yeah, I’m the halfa Danny Phantom.” The guy snorted and Danny scowled. “What’s so funny?”

“Halfa sounds like something my son would’ve called it when he was 7.” Once the cotton ball was soaked through it was put in a ziplock that vanished off to somewhere and a water bottle was poured over it instead, followed by a cloth. “I’m Dr. Jason Pace. Nice to meet you.”

Danny stared at the man while he cleaned his cut with wide eyes. “There are ghost doctors?” It felt like a dumb question, doctors died as much as anyone else, but with all the violent ghosts that came through it was weird to see someone who specialized in helping people.

“Death is hardly enough to keep a medic from helping people who need attention,” Jason said with a chuckle. “When I woke up in the Infinite Realms I met this big burly werewolf in a hoodie who said he was here to take me where I’m supposed to go but he got to me late, and I thought ‘wow, psychopomps are real and they can be behind schedule.’”

“Did. Did this werewolf happen to speak Esperanto?”

“Yeah, said his name is Wulf. I told him that wasn’t very original and he agreed. Then I told him that I needed to see my husband and he cut open a hole back to the living realm about two weeks after my death, and after a very passionate and emotional night, I headed back into work and just sorta. Kept doing what I do.” He hummed, holding up the cloth and setting it on fire before tossing it behind him, where Danny watched it turn to ashes before it made it five feet above the ground. He swiped the purple goop with a q-tip, and then a bunch of vials of glowing liquid appeared from thin air, spinning around him in a lazy orbit. “Poisonous and venomous ghost animals are horrors and ecto entomologists can kiss my ass if they wanna preach about preserving species.”

“What… are you doing?”

“Ah that’s what it is- you’re going to feel numb in a couple of seconds, which is perfectly normal, but then your core will start to go … well let’s just say I’m glad I got to you in time.” One of the vials stopped, the swab burned up like the cloth, and a syringe was put into play. “This is an antivenom. Please don’t squirm, or this will hurt more.” Jason pressed the needle over where a vein should’ve been, and Danny hissed at the sharp prick of pain. Then a lollipop of all things was presented to him. “Hope you like blueberry.”

“So, what I’m gathering is that you just wanna treat people and you came up to me cause I got bit by a spider. I don’t remember my folks ranting about a doctor ghost tricking the people at the hospital into dastardly plans so I’m gonna guess you’re not from around here.”

“Oh, this isn’t why I came to your town of course, but yeah this is the thing I’m gonna be doing.” The syringe needle, once removed, was disintegrated like the rest, and a bandage was stuck on Danny’s arm before his suit could reform around it. “You should be good… and don’t worry, I don’t mess with people’s heads. I just help people. And yes, I know how to help bridge spirits like yourself.” He held out a business card and gave a two-fingered salute. “Give that a little charge if you need me. Bye!”

They watched Jason fade from sight and Danny stared at where he’d been with wide eyes, blinking rapidly. “What the f-”

“We need to get to school!” Sam shouted, drawing his attention down to his best friends. Danny dove down and scooped them both up, turning invisible and flying toward the school. “Oh, wow, ok.”

“So that was weird, right?”

“That was really fuckin weird, yeah,” Tucker said. “I guess it makes sense that there’d be ghost doctors, hospitals are the evilest places.”

“I’m glad he’s here,” Sam said. “Maybe he’ll be able to help you keep up with your habit of crashing into things.”

“I don’t have a habit thank you. My enemies have a habit of yeeting me into things. There’s a difference.”

“You can turn intangible and go through things instead of slamming into them so.” After that fun and lovely argument, Danny almost forgot the weirdness of Dr. Pace.

That is until Lancer introduced the class to a very tall boy with brown hair, tan, freckled skin, and pink eyes. Pink eyes that were glowing ever so softly. “Hello class, this is Kyle Pace. He’s an exchange student from Pittsburg.”

“Hey there,” Kyle said with a wave, smiling wide enough that everyone could see his canines were much longer and too pointy to be human. “My last school was Three Rivers so uh I’m kinda not used to this kinda school, so if I’m weird I’m sorry about that.”

“Not a problem, Kyle.” Lancer patted the large boy on the back. “Your classmates will be doing their best to help you adjust, I’m sure.” No one missed the look Lancer gave them, and no one even really considered caring. Danny, Sam and Tucker were all staring at Kyle with varying degrees of subtly. “There’s a seat between Danny Fenton and Dash Baxter over there, Mr. Pace. I’ll make sure you get a study guide to catch you up on where we are.”

Kyle nodded and plopped down in his seat, bookbag set down next to him, and the class moved on as though this were normal. Well, Wes was fuming at the back of the class but no one paid him any attention. He looked like he was paying attention, and after a while, Danny decided he should do the same, but the glow in Kyle’s eyes and the way Danny’s ghost sense was stuck in his throat, almost alerting him to a ghost but not, messed up his focus even worse than a regular old attack.

When Lunch rolled around, they had a chance to actually talk about it. “So uh, when Dr. Pace said he had a kid,” Tucker said, “Do you think he meant like after he died?”

“My ghost sense says yes, which is gross to think about, but also kind of an existential crisis going on.” Danny pushed his food around on his platter, staring at it and through it. “How the fuck does that even work?”

“Well if Box Lunch,” Sam said with a shudder, “Can exist then maybe… what did he call it? Bridge Spirits? Maybe they can happen, ya know, naturally?”

“This validates everyone who wants to fuck Phantom,” Tucker said with a mouth full of meatloaf from home. Danny punched his arm without looking and took satisfaction in his yelp. “I’m just sayin.”

“Swallow first, and then - novel idea - don’t say it.”

“I saw him leave algebra with Dash and Dash’s hair isn’t looking so perfectly combed right now,” Tucker said anyway, earning a kick in the shins from Sam.

Danny groaned. “Can we talk about something else?”

The universe did not agree with their subject of discussion moving away from Kyle, however, as he strode over to their table and plopped down next to Danny. He had a lunch box filled with clearly homemade food that looked like it was cooked by a chef compared to the lunch meat on Danny’s platter. He tossed an arm around Danny’s shoulders and gave them all a cheerful, “Hey there! How’re you guys doing? I saw your spider backpack and I know appearances aren’t everything but,” he pointed at Sam with a lazy grin, “do you like snakes?”

“Uh, yes?” Sam looked between Danny and Kyle, likely assessing how dangerous he might be. “Just not your kind of snake.”

“Pardon?”

“People who hang out with Dash Baxter tend to be just like him.” Sam folded her arms and scowled, and Tucker rolled his eyes. Kyle just frowned and looked over at the A lister table, making eye contact with Dash for a moment.

“Only impression I got outta Dash was attractive when he’s not talking, what kinda guy is he?” Sam was all too eager to share that and so was Tucker. Danny watched as Kyle’s expression grew darker while staring at Dash, eyes beginning to glow brighter until he turned back to the table and covered Tucker’s mouth. “Aight, an asshole. Got it. Y’all know that’s all like, illegal, right? Someone can record him doing this shit and either call the police or threaten it.”

“I mean, we could but then the other A listers would be out for us,” Danny said.

“I dunno what the A list is supposed to be, but I’m betting it’s something really stupid, and I have ta say: can we talk about snakes now?” Kyle stuffed food in his mouth, and then the conversation about which snakes were cuter, cooler and more dangerous began. Danny zoned out, stretching his senses to confirm the current of ecto energy under Kyle’s skin and wondered how to bring that up.

Before Danny could ask Kyle if he was possessed or just Like That, Dash Baxter’s voice caught his ear. “Hey, Kyle, why’re you hangin out with these losers? You should-” that was as far as Dash got before a pink bubble appeared around him and Kyle turned around to shove the bubble. It rolled along the floor until it bumped into the A lister table and then popped, leaving Dash to fumble into his seat. Then Kyle turned back to the table.

“I really want a pet snake, or like even some fish, but Dad doesn’t trust me and Pop thinks that I should learn to be responsible first before I go asking for a pet. Like, aren’t parents supposed to use pets as a test of responsibility?”

“Some parents think that,” Sam said, her salad finished and her protein shake almost done, “but it’s unfair to put all that on a kid.”

“So,” Tucker said slowly, “everyone is staring at us and I’m kinda wondering if we’re gonna talk about you putting Dash in gay baby jail.”

“Is that weird?” Kyle raised a brow, and Danny snorted. “I just really didn’t wanna talk to him if he’s an asshole like y’all said and the bubble popped pretty quick.” Kyle looked around at the dead silent cafeteria, and his skin began to glow. “Why are people starin?”

“Because you just blew your cover, ghost!” Valerie snarled across the cafeteria, and it exploded into chatter. Kyle flinched at the noise and a bubble appeared around the table that blocked out the noise.

“What the fuck? What’s going on?”

“Uh, dude, they don’t know about half ghosts.”

“But you’re a bridge spirit too!”

“They don’t know that! I’ve got a secret identity to keep!”

“I- wow, ok spider-man. Alright.” Kyle took a breath and dropped his shield, floating up above the crowd of teens. “HEY!” The crowd when slowly quiet as Kyle waved a glowing hand around to get everyone’s attention. “MY DUDES! Thanks. So uh, yeah, I’m not sure what y’all think I am, but I can explain pretty easy.”

“Oh I’m certain you can, ghost, but we’re not interested in your lies!”

“Excuse you, I don’t lie anymore than you do. Anyway, when a living human and a ghost love each other very much-”

“Are you saying your mom or dad banged a ghost?!” Dale was always so eloquent, it had Danny wondering how he had such bad grades.

“Yeah,” Kyle shrugged, hands stuffed in his pockets. “I don’t have a Mom though, Dad and Pop just figured out that ghostly physiology is malleable and they wanted a kid. I’m done talking about my conception now, cause that’s gross, but like, this is a basic thing to understand.” Kyle floated back down to his seat and crossed his legs. “I swear I heard at least five girls around here want to start a family with Phantom, and I just gotta wonder: y’all did know that’s possible right?”

Silence eerie as a horror movie washed over the cafeteria. People processed what they’d been told and some of their minds tripped over themselves trying to do so. Kyle turned back to Sam and started complaining about pets while chatter erupted around them all, and Danny slammed his head against the table.

#Danny Phantom #Danny Fenton #Tucker Foley #Sam Manson #Jason Pace #Kyle Pace #OCs #fanfiction #phanfiction #fanphiction #phanfic #fanfic #phanphic #fanphic #Rexy Writes

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