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realcube · 3 years ago

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BABYSITTING WITH HIM

characters ♡ oikawa, tendou & sakusa

tw ♡ children, cursing & mentions of arson

TŌRU OIKAWA

♡ he is pretty much a professional babysitter, or so he thought

♡ which is why he accepted when you asked if he could help you take care of your nieces/nephews for the weekend

♡ i mean, he takes care of his nephew all the time so how hard could babysitting possibly be? it was basically a free pass to spend the day with you

♡ however, he began to regret his decision as he sat on your couch and realised that he wouldn’t be able to get even somewhat intimate with you when there was constantly an annoying little boy clinging to his arm, asking him if he had any games on his phone

♡ “sorry, kid.” oikawa smiled, clenching his jaw to hide the rage but it wasn’t very effective, “i’ve not got any games. maybe you could go play with your toys or something.”

♡ he let out a sigh, making the mistake of thinking that would be the end of their interaction

♡ “can’t you just download some?” the boy retaliated

♡ you snickered, watching as the energy visibly drained from oikawa, yet he still wore his frighteningly bright grin

♡ “i’ve not got any storage.”

♡ “then delete some of your apps or photos.” the boy said with a shrug, then proceeded to point at oikawa’s home screen, which happened to be a picture of him and you in front of an ethereal sunset, “start with that one. you both look like dorks.”

♡ you and oikawa’s unified gasps of offence were enough to show the boy that he was able to do exactly what he intended; piss y’all off

♡ hence, with a final mischievous snicker, he dashed off

♡ “i hate kids.” oikawa muttered, inspecting his homescreen to see if he really did look like a ‘dork’, “what is his problem?”

♡ “what if our kids turn out like that?” you joked

♡ his eyes widened momentarily, turning to look at you with an uncharacteristically sheepish expression, “our w--”

♡ “mr kawa!” a cry could be heard from the kitchen so without hesitation, you both hopped to your feet and rushed over there as quick as you could

♡ once you both reached the area the yell came from, you were fortunately not greeted by anything gruesome

♡ instead, you both got to behold two children trying to reach the top shelf with the power on friendship; the taller boy was standing on a chair, while the toddler held it still

♡ however, his grip on the jar of the Nutella must’ve loosened at some point as it now lay dejectedly on the ground, half spilled across the tiles and the other half drenching the toddler, not that they seemed to mind though

♡ in fact, it looked like they were having the time of their — albeit, short — life

♡ the container was only plastic, hence you didn’t have to worry about shards when you darted over to the poor, chocolate-covered baby and scooped them up into your arms, “are you guys, okay?!”

♡ “yeah.” the boy chuckled, noticing that holding the toddler was transferring the chocolate onto you too

♡ “if you wanted nutella, you could’ve just asked.” oikawa sighed, helping the boy get down safely from the chair before putting the object back at it’s intended spot at the dinner table

♡ “you could have gotten seriously hurt! i thought you would know better than to do something like this.” you scolded, becoming even more furious as the baby continued to playfully slap your face with their grimy hands, “please don’t do that again.”

♡ before they boy got the chance to do anything besides murmur a vague apology, oikawa interjected, “they won’t get the chance.”

♡ and he was right

♡ after cleaning everything up (including the child, which took forever), you didn’t let either of the rascals out of your sight until your duties as babysitters were complete

♡ “i think we handled that pretty well.” oikawa mused, gathering his stuff along with you as you both got ready to leave

♡ “yeah, maybe we should do this again sometime.” you suggested, but it was followed by a few second was complete silence

♡ until you both burst out laughing

♡ “yeah, never again.” you agreed

♡ “the kids can take care of themselves.” oikawa said with shrug, offering his hand to you, before you both strutted out of the disaster house

♡ ever since then, it was a common inside joke between you to, when in the vicinity of a kid causing mayhem or being a nuisance, whisper to each or exchange a look that says, ‘it’s a great day to not be babysitting.’

SATORI TENDŌ

♡ at first, you thought that asking tendou for help babysitting would be a bad idea bc he is just as hyperactive as the damn kids sometimes so he’d probably not be the best influence

♡ and you knew this bc one time you happened to run into him while out in the park with the kids and you asked him to watch them for literally a minute so you could run to the bathroom but when you came back all you almost had a heart attack because tendou was teaching them fkn tricks on the monkey bars

♡ however, you then realised that if the kids were busy committing arson with uncle tendou, then they wouldn’t be bothering you

♡ so here you are, playing monopoly with your boyfriend, a seven year-old and a one year-old

♡ well, it was less like monopoly and more like debate class since none of you could agree on the rules

♡ “well, uncle ten,” the older sibling began, in a very matter-of-factly tone, “if i burn your property down, then i don’t have to pay you for landing on it.”

♡ “but then you also go to jail.” you pointed out

♡ “not if the police don’t catch me.”

♡ you burst out laughing, meanwhile tendou kept his business face on, “good point, but watch this.” tendou spoke as he rolled the dice, though no matter what if he got a number between four and seven, he would end up landing on somebody’s property

♡ he got a four

♡ picking up his piece, he moved it across each square individually and once he was due to land on your property, he knocked his piece over

♡ “whoops, i slipped.” he chuckled, though his friendly aura immediately dropped as he looked you dead in the eye and said, “i’m suing.”

♡ “you can’t sue me because you tripped!” you yelled

♡ “i guess i just fell for you.” he said, resulting in the kids both making gagging noises before he stuck out his hand, “100 monopoly dollars, please.”

♡ “like i said,” you tried your best to stay strong and not laugh at his shitting pickup line, “i’m not giving you any money, you fell!”

♡ “i guess we’ll have to take this matter to court then.” tendou said, tapping the shoulder of the one year-old who was currently chewing on a 500 bill which you quickly had to confiscate

♡ “judge, do you think (y/n) owes me 100 monopoly dollars for poor health and safety conduct?”

♡ “yes.”

♡ “that is the only word they know how to say!” you cried, begrudgingly handing over the money

♡ “thank you, angel.” tendou cooed, adding your singular bill to the pile he had already stored up; the winner of the game had already been decided

♡ and although you and the seven year-old kid both cried later after getting your asses kicked in monopoly (the one year-old cried too but they were just hungry), you all went out to get food and actually had a pretty good time

♡ it became a routine for tendou to help you babysit whenever he got the chance and y’all would always play table top games

♡ also when tendou got accepted into culinary school, he’d teach/show the kids what dishes he has learned to prepare and let them help by stirring the pot, adding spices etc etc

♡ and even when he moved to Paris, on special occasions, a box of chocolates would suddenly appear at the kids’ door and all the little pieces would be shaped and moulded into some of their favourite characters or made out of their favourite flavours

♡ and at one point the kids even insisted that you teach them how to make chocolates so they can send some back to uncle tendou <33

♡ they weren’t the best, but when tendou received the misshapen, slightly stale chocolates at his apartment, addressed from you and the children, he cried

KIYOOMI SAKUSA

♡ his first response when you asked if he could help you babysit was ofc ‘ew no 🤢’

♡ needless to say it took a lot mansplain manipulate malewifing to convince him to come over

♡ but once he did, obviously he was in his full protective gear; there was no way in hell he was going to catch whatever germs the little goblins have

♡ honestly he almost sprayed a chid in the face with hand sanitizer when they came running up to him with open arms, trying to give him a hug

♡ which was unusual because the kids don’t tend to be overly friendly with new people, but you just brushed it off and figured that sakusa must’ve been an exception

♡ during his time babysitting, sakusa spend most of his energy trying to avoid the children at all costs that it basically became a game of tag, with you helping the child try to reach sakusa, and him hiding

♡ but honestly you couldn’t complain since the whole time the child was playing, they were safe with you rather than playing with fire

♡ until later you were reminded of their odd fondness for sakusa when they insisted that sakusa carry them to their bedroom when it was their nap time

♡ and as you were shifting through the books, looking for a story to read, it hit you why they seemed to be so familiar with sakusa

♡ it’s because he looked exactly like the prince in one of their favourite story books; same hair, both tall and they even had similar moles to each other

♡ upon noticing this, you immediately showed sakusa and was quite amused

♡ in fact, he found it so cute that he gave both you and the toddler a lil’ kiss on the cheek, as a parting gift — mask off and everything

♡ he ended up reading the story and the kid fell into deep slumber by the time he reached the second page

♡ letting out a sigh of relief, sakusa slumped onto the ground, allowing his own eyes to flutter shut for a moment, “what a day.”

♡ you shuffled over to you could lay down beside him, “indeed it was, prince sakusa.”

♡ “shut up.” he teased, poking your rib slightly before absently intertwining his fingers with your own

♡ next thing you knew, you were both awakened by the sound of a grumpy toddler...

#sakusa x y/n #hq sakusa #tendou x you #tendou imagine #haikyuu oikawa #hq oikawa #oikawa headcanons #oikawa toru x reader #oikawa fluff #tendou x reader #haikyuu tendou #tendou drabble #tendou hcs #sakusa scenarios #sakusa x reader #sakusa imagines #sakusa headcanons #👾fluff #haikyuu x gender neutral reader

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post-nuclear-sweetheart · 3 years ago

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Tranquille Moments In Chaos (1)

The start of several moments that fill in the gaps of developing a friendship, then relationship, with Hancock.

Hancock x reader/sole.

Find it on ao3 as well!

(1853 words)

“Come with me.”

You had begun to question your sanity before the words fully escaped your lips. You leaned against the wall of the State House in Hancock’s disorganized bedroom, attempting your best not to look like a complete mess inside.

You saw how his blackened, clouded eyes looked you up and down. It was casual, and it reminded you of how the “cool kids” - you deemed them - would look through your flimsy persona back in high school. His dry and malformed lips stretched into a grin, and you could see amusement play across his face.

Hancock let out a short, breathy chuckle, before reaching into his back pocket of his trousers for the crumpled pack of cigarettes. “So lemme get this straight,” he started as if you were merely having a casual conversation. He pulled out his lighter from his other pocket, leaving you hanging off his words, until he lit up the cigarette and took the first drag.

“This is your… what, second week? Roamin�� around the Commonwealth like a stray dog?” That amused look slowly turned into a scrutinizing smirk. “Fahrenheit told me all about how you turned on Bobby. Can’t even hold a gun without the recoil throwin’ your arms all over - and you wanna run with me?”

The heat of embarrassment crept up to your face. True, you still weren’t terribly handy with a gun, despite your ex-spouse having military experience, but you made plenty sure they kept that sort of violence outside the house, what with the arrival of your newborn. Oh, how you would come to regret that rule.

But if there was one thing you were good at, that you honed over your college years, was how to fake confidence. You steeled yourself and pushed off the wall, standing your not-so-tall stance against Hancock. Sure, your cheeks were still very red, but you fronted a coy smile and a raised brow.

“I dunno, Hancock. You said it yourself - you’re soft. I may have been out here for a few weeks, but you’ve been lounging around longer than I’ve been surviving. Are you sure you can run with me?”

You stared into his dark eyes, appearing so sure of yourself. You began to falter inside, however, when his playfully degrading look turned to one that was serious. He took another painfully slow drag, starring you down all the while, then blew a puff of smoke into your face. You suppressed your cough, but the tears from the stinging smoke escaped.

Hancock chuckled darkly. “I can admire a babe willing to stand up to the man. Alright, hot stuff. I’ll tag along and maybe give you a few pointers.” He winked at you then, deciding he was done with his half-burnt cigarette, tossed it down and squished it out with the heel of his boot.

“First I gotta address the people; give ‘em a big mayoral speech. Don’t wait up.” He pressed the tip of his tricorn hat down, as a way to physically show he was switching over to his “business side”, and disappeared through the white door next to the wall you had leaned next to.

You released a sigh. There was no way you could keep up that air of confidence for long, especially around the man who radiates pure confidence. Pair that up with his natural ability to remain cool and keep it all from going to his head, and you looked like a nervous teenager on the first day of work next to him.

You heard the guards that stood outside the door to his bedroom snicker. You didn’t blame them. There was one thing that made you feel a little better about devolving into a mental puddle around Hancock. Irma had told you all about how he used to be a major hit with the ladies, and sometimes the gentlemen, and it wasn’t unusual when a person or two would fall at his feet. Of course, this was all before he turned into a ghoul, and yet…

Something tells you his ghoulification only amplified his charm.

He made good on his promise, even if it was made in jest. In your days wandering with this alluring ghoul at your back, he had taught you how to properly hold your 10 mm gun, and when you felt ready for rifles, he taught you how hard to press the stock against your shoulder and how to safely handle them. Although seeming to be intimately familiar with most common place guns, he himself preferred the ol’ reliable shotgun.

You’ve also come to be acquainted with his way of life and his morals. He lived up to his self-proclaimed title of “freedom fighter” with his rebel-rousing, tough guy nature who kept an eye out for the little man. He tried telling you after he shanked Finn to death, but you didn’t quite believe it then. A mayor, fronting as a freedom fighter? It didn’t make sense. It wasn’t until one dark day with a downpour to rival a waterfall that would change your mind.

After one particularly bad firefight, you both found shelter in a half-dilapidated, vacant home. You had a friend in this neighborhood many years ago, although he moved away to another town to attend high school.

You sat on a dust covered cushion near a fairly in-tact windowsill, watching languidly as the rain fell heavy. One leg was tucked under you, while you stretched the other so that Hancock could remove the bullet deeply embedded in your thigh. You didn’t feel much of his makeshift surgery, what with the drug concoction he fed you. You were more entranced by the rainfall, and how the droplets pattered on the crumbling road not far from the house. The only light you had to serve was the half burned candles from the last squatter at the residence; five waxy candles that illuminated a warm, flickering orange against the cold darkness of the rest of the house.

“Hancock?” You quietly called for him, never moving your stare from the outside world. He hummed in response.

“Did you-“ you paused yourself. Your drug-filled mind struggled to figure out how to word your question. “Were you… Did you grow up here, before the war?”

Although the pain was completely numbed, you did feel an intense pressure from his work. You felt that pressure stop momentarily, before starting again.

You heard Hancock let out a scoff. It didn’t sound rude, but baffled. “What makes you think I’m one of those pre-war ghouls?”

“You’re a ghoul.”

Hancock laughed quietly. “Would you believe me if I told you I’m in my thirties?”

“Thirties?” You lulled your head, rolling lazily on your shoulders to face Hancock. Your vision was blurred by the pain killers, but still you could see the deep ravines in his skin. His eyes appeared exceptionally black, and where his nose rotted off long ago appeared darker. At the sight of what would have frightened you 200 some years ago, you smiled. “You look amazing for your thirties.”

“You should’a seen me before.” He looked up to wink at you, before reaching for a roll of bandages he kept hidden away in his coat pocket. “Drugs are a hell of a… drug.”

“Drugs can make you a ghoul?”

“Not just any drugs. This stuff,” he blew air from between his recessed lips as his mind dove back into his memories. “they didn’t even have a name for this stuff. Picture it - a vial of this scary glowing liquid that promised to give you a high that was outta this world. And get this, there was only one more hit of it left. You know what I did, doll?”

There was something so charming, so endearing, about the way he spoke. It was old school, but his rumbling voice, no doubt caused by their decay via radiation, kept you enraptured. Your smile grew more silly and enamoured. “What did you do, Hancock?”

“I shot it up.” He began to wrap the bandages around your thigh. “Lemme tell you, there’s nothing else in this whole damn world that’ll make you see - no, feel - the things I did. Everything else pales in comparison.” He tied them off with a yank, and gave your leg a light pat before continuing his story. “‘Course, it came with a price. That price is this gorgeous mug you see before you.”

You giggled at his display of gesturing to himself and giving you an exaggerated smoulder. He shifted over to the cushion that was beside the one you sat on and took his place beside you. You came to an agreement to wait, guns ready, for the rain to pass before moving on. Hancock leaned his back against the wall from where he sat, and in your drugged-up haze, you slumped over against him.

“Good Neighbour didn’t mind a ghoul for a mayor?” You asked, unaware of how your line of questioning came across. Still, Hancock answered freely.

“I wasn’t a ghoul yet.”

“How did you become mayor?” You asked him, moving your head to look up at him.

Seeing no harm in telling you, Hancock regaled you in the bigotry of Diamond City, and the reign of terror Vic held over Good Neighbour. He told you, laughing through it as he explained how the red coat of John Hancock could speak to him, and with the courage of drugs and a take-no-bullshit attitude on his side, he and a group of fed up people stormed the town hall. He went into gruesome detail of gunning down Vic’s men, and how they tied a noose around Vic’s neck and hung him over the same balcony Hancock would give his speeches. It was then, with unanimous decision, that John Hancock became mayor of Good Neighbour. It stayed a safe haven for everyone Diamond City rejected, and the rest was history.

It was then, as you stared up at Hancock with a mixed look of disbelief and admiration, that you truly believed he was, and is, a freedom fighter.

“And you traded a life of gunning bad people down for office work?” You nudged him playfully.

“Hey, I can do both, can’t I? Good Neighbour’s full of good people. They can fend for themselves while their fearless mayor cuts his teeth on some raiders.”

You attempted to nod in agreement, but found your head heavy and comfortable against his shoulder. You let out a yawn, the last thing you remembered, before the haziness you felt finally took over your senses and dragged you to sleep.

Hancock glanced your way and lightly chuckled at your slumbering form. He gently moved your wrist in your lap to peek at the time on your Pip-Boy. It was getting well into the evening, but still it was early enough that raiders and gangsters didn’t roam quite yet.

He reached up to tip his hat down over his eyes and slouched against the wall. There was a long night ahead of you both, and if there ever was a time to nap, a dark rainy evening was certainly it.

“Sweet dreams, vault dweller.”

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girl-of-many-fandoms · 4 years ago

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I was wondering if you'd consider doing a Hotch x plus size reader? Totally fine if you're not up for it! I have this idea where the reader is a tech person like Penelope & she's around the same age. On a number of occasions she'll stay later to finish her work and it's only her & Hotch left. So she starts this cute little friendship where she'll make him coffee before she leaves. That turns into a crush, then she begins to avoiding him cuz she's shy, then he confronts her saying her likes her.

Late Nights

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x PLUS!Reader

Warnings: None

WOWWW this is a long one hope you guys enjoy it 🤗💜

MASTERLIST

-----

“You know, working this late should be against the law for single parents” walking in Hotch’s office I shut the door behind me

“You’re working late again?” he looked up from the file on his desk smiling at me

“My stupid systems chose today of all days to act up, I had to upgrade the software and all the fun stuff” placing the extra coffee cup on his desk I plopped down in the chair opposite me

“It’s taking a while to get back online but hopefully I’ll be out of here in the next hour or so”

For the past couple weeks Hotch had been working late nights and I thought that I’d stay back also in case he needed someone to talk too. As a profiler he sees and deals with a lot of gruesome things that would keep a normal person up all night. At first it was innocent, I’d pop in to check in on him to distract him for a bit or make him his coffee when he insists on staying in the office later than usual but as we grew closer he started opening up more to me. He started talking about the things they saw and did on the case the team had worked on and then we started talking more about Jack and how he’s doing at school, more personal topics

“I know I’m not the most open when it comes to expressing feelings but I just want to say thank you” Aaron took a sip of his coffee before placing the cup down, eyes glued to my frame

“What are you thanking me for?” he smiled and I couldn’t help but swoon a bit. Aaron doesn’t smile much or show us his soft side so it’s nice to see him this relaxed around me

“For being a friend, for working late nights with me and all the coffee” my stomach fluttered as he went on

“The coffee is good” chuckling I brought my cup to my lips and took a sip in order to help hide the blush that heated up my cheeks

“It is, oh I forgot to ask you, Jack has a soccer game this weekend and he insisted that I asked you to be there” he fiddled with his fingers waiting for my reaction

“Of course, I’ll be there”

------

“Of course, I’ll be there. That’s what I told him, oh God what if I’m reading into this too much”

I’m currently pacing the floor of Penelope’s bat cave as we waited for the coroner’s report to come in. My phone buzzed for the tenth time today, looking down at the screen I sighed letting it go to voicemail

“Hotch again? You know he doesn’t smile nor opens up so easily to anyone besides you, I wouldn’t be surprised if he likes you” Penelope got cut off by the ringing phone on her desk

“Speak and be heard oh mighty one”

“Garcia I need you to dig deeper into our victims background” Hotch’s voice filled the room and I immediately sat down

“Sure, anything specific I’m looking for sir?” she started tapping away at her keyboard doing exactly what he said

“We need to find the connection between all three of them”

“Okay sir, I’ll call you back when I have something”

“Penelope wait, don’t hang up” she paused with her finger over the end button looking over at me

“Is Y/N with you?” I frantically motioned for her to say no and thankfully she caught on

“No sir, want me to pass on a message?”

“No, no, uh thanks Garcia” he sounded so defeated and that only made me feel even more guilty. For the past three days I’ve been avoiding Aaron for as much as I could ever since the night in his office, I realized that I was setting myself up for heartbreak. The call ended and she glared at me

“You are hurting that man”

“I know and I feel terrible but I need to put some distance between the both of us”

“He’s in Nevada with the team right now how much more distance do you want?” she deadpanned looking me in the eyes

“It’s complicated alright”

“It really isn’t” she turned back to her set and started working on the case ending our conversation

-----

“Welcome back my heroes!”

Garcia held a box of cupcakes up welcoming the team back as they stepped off the elevator. I stood a few feet behind her smiling at them as they grabbed a cake and filled into the bullpen. I was about to follow behind them when a hand held on to my wrist keeping me in place

“Is everything alright?”

Aaron

“Yeah, everything’s fine, why would they be?” I started rambling removing my hand from his hold, avoiding his gaze

“You say that but I don’t believe you, let’s talk in my office” he opened the door for me and we headed straight to his office. I saw Penelope shoot me a small smile before I entered the room. I took a seat on the sofa as he moved to his desk.

Aaron dropped his go bag on his desk and removed his jacket before joining me on the sofa. He stared into my eyes trying to get a sense of what’s going on, profiling me

“Is there a reason why you’ve been avoiding me?”

“I haven’t been avoiding you sir” I couldn’t help but pick at my fingernails as nervousness washed over me

“Sir? Y/N, it’s just the two of us and yes, you haven’t even returned any of my calls or texts” I wrecked my brain trying to come up with an excuse but I couldn’t

“I know that there isn’t any other way to say this but, the other night when we were in here I had to tell you something but I didn’t know how you were going to take it, I still don’t-” he rambled scratching the back of his neck

“Aaron” placing my hand on his knee I cut him off, he took my small hand in his gently brushing the back of my hand using his thumb

“I like you” he blurted and I froze, my heartrate sped up the longer we sat here staring at each other

Say something idiot!

“Why me?”

Dear God, you should’ve stayed quiet

“What do you mean why you?”

“I’m not your type Aaron”

“What’s my type then?”

“Someone like Emily, brave, courageous, can actually shoot to save herself, skinny, gorgeous” I mumbled the last two hoping he didn’t hear them but he did

“You don’t have to be skinny to be gorgeous and besides, you are perfect, you’re funny, sweet, caring, determined, charismatic, I could go on” he smiled giving my hand a gentle squeeze as we held each other’s gaze

“Most importantly, you make me feel safe” my breathing hitched as we sat here, neither one of us wanting to break the moment

“I like you too Aaron”

------

The referee blew the whistle ending the soccer match and Jack jumped with glee with his team as they were the winners. I cheered and clapped happy for the little boy who scored one of the winning goals as he ran directly to his father. Smiling I made my way over to the Hotchner boys and Jack broke free from Aaron’s arms and rushed over to me

“Good job buddy, you did so great!” wrapping my arms around the child I kissed the top of his head

“Did you see me score?” he pulled back enough to look up at me and I cupped his flushed cheeks in my palms

“I did and that was an excellent bicycle kick”

“Jack!” one of his teammates called him over for a group photo and he ran off. A pair of arms snaked around my waist pulling me flush against the owner, Aaron

“You did great with them” spinning around I wrapped my arms around his middle

“I did the best I could with a group of ten year olds”

“Thanks for coming it means a lot to me and I know it does to him too”

“No need to thank me, I had a good time listening to chatty Cathy to your left go on about how hot you look in those shorts” he laughed pulling me in closer to him

“Join us for dinner tonight, it’s been a while since he’s seen you and it’ll be good to have you around more”

“Sounds like a plan” pushing myself upwards I kissed him and he immediately responded. I swear I was about to explode from the electricity that flowed through my body from having his lips on mine

We were so wrapped up in our moment that we had forgotten about the crowd of people that surrounded us until they started wolf whistling and cheering us on. Breaking apart my face became heated from the blush that overtook my cheeks. Aaron looked down at me with a boyish grin clearly enjoying the moment

“How’s that for our first kiss?”

“Not quite what I was expecting”

“C’mon let’s head back to my place” taking my hand in his he called out to his son and we headed to his car. The both of them quickly fell into conversation and I must admit, seeing Hotch domesticated has got to be the hottest thing ever

The bond that these two have is very special and I can’t wait to share more moments like this with them

------

HEY GUYS PSA!! If any of you lovely readers would love to tagged in my fics let me know and I’ll gladly add you to the list ❤️

Tag list:

@calm-and-doctor

#criminal minds #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaronhotchnerimagine #aaron hotchner x plus reader

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hatsukeii · 5 years ago

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Not a request, just something I thought of while listening to a song.

Gonna be a scenario!!

And for once it’s not a haikyuu one lolol sorry to disappoint.

It’s an Attack on Titan one because LEVI.

I’m sorry I’m soft for him.

(Even though he’s like 20+ years older than me but age is just a number jail’s just a room-)

(Jk lol I’m not about to have him catch a case)

Are You Bored Yet?// Levi x reader

Word count： 2000+ idk the exact number bc I went back and changed some stuff

Warnings: Little bit of swearing

Summary: You and Levi have never really had much time to think about your relationship, until the night before the plan to recapture the lost land within Wall Maria.

This was one of those nights.

Those precious nights in the Survey Corps, where Levi wasn’t at his mahogany table, writing up piles amongst piles of paperwork until his fingers cramped and his wrists felt numb, drinking so many cups of tea at such a quick pace it looks like he’s just straight up inhaling the scorching liquid.

But also one of those nights, where the tension in the air is so thick you can cut it with a knife. The wavering mentality of everyone in the Survey Corps was evident in the way they acted that particular evening. From the silence in the dining hall, to the soldiers showing more affection to their comrades compared to usual. They all knew what awaited them tomorrow. Maybe this was what people described as the pre boss battle stress. The kind of anxiety that ate you up from inside, slowly taking over you.

Dinner ended hours ago. Lights in the cabins were off, leaving you in pitch darkness. The faint glow from the moon that hung above your head lit up the patch of grassy land you laid on. To say you weren’t nervous would be an understatement. The past few months have been nothing but cruel. Who knew the titans were going to somehow get to the walls again? Watching your comrades die each expedition as if it was normal probably hardened you more than necessary. Letting your hands travel to under your head, you let your head tilt up to gaze at the starry sky. Your eyes darted from star to star, trying to count them, hoping that would help silence out all the made up scenarios about tomorrow you were making.

“Can I join you?” A low, but oh so familiar voice asked behind you. “No babe, you can’t. What do you think? Of course you can join.” You joked, patting the area next to you as Levi sat himself down, refusing to lie down on the “filthy” grass.

Being orphaned was not fun. At all. You never received any form of care from anyone. Your parents wanted a boy. A girl was the last thing they asked for, let alone two girls. The minute you turned five, the two adults chucked you two out on the streets to fend for yourself. For three whole years, you cowered behind your sister as she handled difficult situations. Stealing, bribing, defending, those were her fortes. Till now, you still blamed yourself for her death. You tried to steal bread from a vendor. A beefy vendor. The man snapped, sending punch after punch towards you. Your sister intervened, hoping to stop his assault on you. Jumping in front of you, she took all the blows that came her way, skilfully dodging the kicks and punches the man threw out, a crowd starting to form around the fight. You watched, clutching onto the bread, as a drop of blood dripped from her nose to the ground, followed by more droplets. Three other men stepped in to assist the vendor, sending harsh blows with bats, planks, everything and anything at their disposal. The crowd’s cheers echoed through the street as they egged the fight on. The beefy vendor was now straddling your sister, sending punch after punch towards your sister’s bruised and bloody face. Run, she told you. Leave her and get to somewhere safe, she screamed, before a crunch, followed by a pained yell pierced the air. Get away, she choked out, before one of the men got bored and snapped her neck, all signs of life in her eyes gone within a second. Petrified, you dropped the pastry, running away as quick as your little feet could bring you. You didn’t know where you were going, nor did you know whether the three men were following you. All you knew to do was to run away. That was your sister’s last request. You collapsed on the side of the road, eyes wide and darting across the street, praying you were alone. You curled up into a ball on the street, tears rolling down your cold cheeks as you rocked back and forth. The way her face paled as blood continued to drip onto the street when her neck snapped was etched into your brain. That wasn’t gonna leave any time soon. It could’ve been minutes, or hours that had passed, when you felt something shoved into your arms. “Here, have this.” You tiredly looked up at the raven haired boy that was about your age, who was now looking at you with bored eyes. You tore out a tiny piece of the warm bread, your trembling hand leading it into your mouth. The boy rolled his eyes, wiping his hand on his shirt. “You alone or what?” All you could do was timidly nod your head. You were far from composed enough to make out any proper sentences. “You wanna tag along? I can help you out until you’re good to go.”

You two stuck together for the longest time. You remember when Levi introduced you to Isabel and Farlan, who taught you how to master the ODM gear. The four of you relied on each other in the underground, sharing materials, food, water, all that. When the three joined the Survey Corps, you joined with them. On your first expedition, you watched as your comrades, those you trained for years and eventually became close with, get devoured by titans. You joined up with Levi, brutally killing the titan that decided eating Farlan and Isabel was a good idea. You held him that night while he cried about two of his best friends that met their gruesome fate. Never once have you ever left his side when he needed you most.

It didn’t come as a surprise when you eventually caught feelings for him. I mean he’s ripped, hot as hell, smart, and can beyblade his way to victory, what was there not to like? What did come as a surprise, was when he admitted his feelings towards you before your second expedition together. Since then, you guys have been dating, becoming nearly inseparable during missions.

To say your relationship was smooth sailing would be a lie. There have been times where you’ve had full blown arguments with him. Dating in the military was not an easy ordeal. You were constantly worried about Levi, and vice versa. Making it up to each other was probably the thing you guys did the most. All that mattered was that you guys kept your asses alive, so you could go home together.

You continued to stare at the sky, salvaging the rare peaceful night. You let your eyes close as you relaxed in the grass. Nights like these almost never existed. Levi was usually too busy for this shit. However his paperwork was all finished, which meant he finally had a chance to really enjoy your presence. The occasional gust of wind that blew over you two, and Levi’s attempts to get comfortable on the grassy floor were the only audible sounds. Your lips curled up into a tiny grin, imagining how Levi looked like right now. “Screw it.” You felt his shoulder against yours as you chuckled lightly. “I knew you would give in.”

You two laid there in a comfortable silence, relaxing one last time, hoping it could last forever.

“Are you bored yet?”

Your eyes fluttered open. Levi rarely asked questions like this. This was a start.

You looked over to him, taking in his appearance in the moonlight. His eyes were focused on the stars, his breathing light and almost inaudible.

“Bored of what?”

His eyes never left the sky.

“Are you bored of this yet? Are you bored of me? Bored of doing the same things every single damn day? Bored of life? Going out, fighting titans, watching people that have grown close to us waste their lives out on the battlefield, aren’t you bored of all of it? Do you sometimes just want to end it all?”

You were silent for a moment, trying to understand his question.

“Why would I ever be bored of you?”

“Why would you not? It’s been six whole years, I’m surprised you still put up with me.”

You sighed out, turning your head back towards the sky.

“Levi, do you ever get bored of counting stars?”

A look of confusion plastered on his face as he thought about it for a bit.

“No. I don’t.”

“Why don’t you get bored of it?”

He turned his head towards the sky, letting his eyes close.

“Maybe something about the stars just fascinates me to an extent. I can’t get bored of them. They’re just so pretty. You’d think they were just dots, but if they ever fell onto Earth, it’d be a total shitshow. Billions of stars, just in the sky for us to observe. We don’t really know much about them either. I guess that’s my reason for not being bored.”

You nodded, humming in response.

“Well, I’m not bored of you because I’m fascinated by you, even now. Just like the stars. Maybe life as a soldier has hardened you to the point where watching your comrades die just doesn’t affect you, or you hide all your emotions under that pretty little face of yours. Sometimes, I don’t understand how you just fall asleep on a chair, or how your brain still manages to function on three hours of sleep. There’s so much to learn about you. One thing I did figure out, is that you wear your heart on your sleeve, you just never tell people. You’d rather try to move on than open up to someone. As long as there’s something to discover about the outside world, the titans, you, I would never get bored.”

Levi huffed out, continuing his “interrogation.”

“Then what now? It’s been six years of doing the same thing, this will eventually get boring for the both of us.” The pain in his voice he tried so hard to hide finally showed itself.

“We continue to do this shit. As long as it takes for us to finally be able to be free outside the walls. I don’t plan on letting it get boring anytime soon. I want humanity to be able to breathe in the air from outside the walls. I want them to see the ocean, smell and taste the salt in the ocean breeze by the sea. Be able to experience everything written in those little textbooks of theirs, instead of just read about it on paper. I won’t stop until that goal is reached, nor will I lose interest. And don’t you even come up with that bullshit, about how I’ll eventually get bored of you. I love you way too much to get bored of you. We’ve been through so much together, it would be a waste if I threw that all away.”

“Aren’t you scared? Tomorrow, more people are going to die for sure. Who knows if it’s going to be one of us?” Another question came out from his mouth.

“Who said I wasn’t scared? I’m always scared. I can’t afford to lose you, or anyone I love. You better not die on me tomorrow, or I’ll bring you back and kill you all over again. Humanity’s strongest is about to carry us to victory with a brave heart and a killer glare.”

The raven haired man chuckled at that statement, taking your hand in his and intertwining your fingers.

“If you knew me, you’d know I’m far from being brave. You really think I’m unaffected by the deaths of other soldiers? If I could, I would save every single one of them. I’m scared too. Terrified. I can’t bear to imagine how life would be without you, or anyone from my squads. You’re right, I wear my heart on my sleeve, but I don’t trust anyone enough to open up to them. Maybe except you. I just wish that one day, humanity will finally be triumphant against the titans. I don’t care what it takes. I’d do it without hesitation even if it costs me my life.”

Bringing your hand up to his face, he gave each knuckle a soft peck, before holding it to his chest. The back of your hand felt his steady heartbeat, thumping against his chest like a drum.

“However, I don’t plan on dying anytime soon. Not when I have you protect you. As long as I still have energy to breathe, I’m going to continue to protect your ass, no questions asked. You better not die tomorrow either, or I’ll do the exact same thing you just said.”

You shifted your body, leaning against Levi’s side as you rested your head on his shoulder, smiling at yourself.

“I do have a pretty killer glare though don’t I love?”

You laughed a bit at his boastful joke, giving his cheek a light peck, before resting your head back on his shoulder.

“Yeah, you definitely do. Pretty sure Eren pisses his pants every time you send him that death glare.”

After rewriting this like twice bc of my computer glitching it is finally done oh my god I’m so tired rn I feel like death. I’ll do all the requests tomorrow, for now just stick with this shitty oneshot I decided to write out of impulse.

(Btw this is an example of me writing a scenario based on a song. If any of you guys know it then like please be my friend)

References:

Are you bored yet- Wallows

Are you bored yet (official music video)

Genius interview lol

The comments section on the music video and other variations of that song

168 notes · View notes

chickensarentcheap · 4 years ago

Text

Best Part of Me -Chapter 63

Warnings: none

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @alievans007, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @ocfairygodmother

With a late afternoon rain came a break in the oppressive humidity; a much cooler breeze appearing as the sun began to set. The four oldest are already tucked into bed; satisfied and content after daddy obliged every request for ‘just one more story’ and they were spoiled with seemingly endless cuddles, hugs, and kisses. So relaxed and secure knowing that he’s under the same room that sleep came easily to all of them; worn out from not only the excitement of him showing up unexpectedly, but then spending every waking moment of the rest of the day vying for his attention. Constantly talking over one another, fighting over who go to sit on his shoulders when they showed him the animals, squabbling over who got to be beside him at dinner. It’s only been four days since they’d seen him at the airport, but it may as well have been a lifetime to them; ten minutes not nearly enough to erase the ache in their little hearts or the feeling of loneliness inside of them.

While not exactly a constant fixture in their lives at times because of the job and its unpredictability, he’d always been a hands-on father; starting right from the moment they found out there was a baby -or babies, in this twins’ case- on the way. Attentive and loving and even more protective than usual; determined to keep both her and the life inside of her as safe, secure, and healthy as possible. Feeling pride and wonder that he’d even been given the chance to be a father again; able to create life and nurture it when in all aspects, he should have died that day on the Sultana Kamal Bridge. Every one of the pregnancies...everyone of the kids...serving as reminders of not only just how lucky he’d gotten that day, but that someone who’d made the mistakes and the bad decisions he’d had could still be worthy enough to be a dad once more. And he’s always been determined to be the best one he can possibly be; wanting to not only right all previous wrongs, but to prove that he could be a better man -and husband and father- than his old man had tried to teach him to be. Loving his children with every shred of his being and devoting himself to every aspect of their care and upbringing; even things as simple and mundane as changing diapers or giving them bottles or at the very least bringing to her for a feed.

As the first three got older, he took on new challenges and changes to guide them and help shape them for their futures. Whether it be something as profound as encouraging them to be compassionate and accepting and loving, or something as ‘normal’ as teaching them to surf and play soccer or even learning how to braid his little girl’s hair. No task too big or too small. Never complaining about being woken up in the middle of the night or hesitating when it comes to both showing affection and receiving it. And as corny and as sappy as it sounds, Esme realizes just how fortunate she really is; having someone that is willing to do it all without having to even be asked. She’s heard plenty of horror stories from the moms at school; tales of lazy and useless husbands that complain about even a half an hour spent for their children. Always able to brag about him and then able to go home knowing how she ‘lucked out’. Somehow, even during the craziest and possibly scariest time of her, managing to find the best possible person -and partner- to have a family with.

She stands by the open door of the balcony that leads off the bedroom she’d been ‘assigned to’. Both watching and listening to him as he lays flat on his back on a two person lounge chair with Addie on his chest; her tiny fists curled tightly around his index fingers as she alternates between raising her head and resting her chin against him. Those enormous dark eyes never leaving his face and a happy -and completely genuine- smile taking over her face every time he talks to her; the corners of her eyes and the bridge of her nose crinkling. He changes when he’s with her. In the same way he had with all the others when they were babies. This big, tough, strong man suddenly so gentle; his voice softer and calmer. Deeper, even. Enamored with her in the same way she is with him; his own eyes sparkling and crinkling and his own smile both testament to the fact that he finds her a complete wonder. Not quite believing that she really exists; questioning what he could have possibly done to deserve her.

He’s a wonder himself. So brave and fearless and capable of inflicting so much pain and suffering, yet possessing so much tenderness and love. It would be so easy for him to be jaded and broken; to fall back into old habits and to become dependent on old, dangerous vices. But no matter how bad things get, no matter how difficult or impossible they seem, he puts all his time and effort into being a good man. Into loving his wife and children with everything he has.

“What are you guys doing?” she asks, as she steps out onto the balcony, drawing her hoodie tight across her body.

Tyler tilts his head back and smiles up at her. “Nothing. Just hanging out. Talking.”

“I hope you’re not telling her gruesome stories.”

“I would never do that to my little peanut,” he declares, and runs a palm over Addie’s hair, hand settling on the back of her head. “Daddy would never do that to you. He saves that stuff for mommy.”

“Because mommy so wants to hear your tales of killing people with garden tools. Look at the way she looks at you…” Esme leans over the back of the lounger and presses a kiss to his lips. “...like you’re got rainbows and glitter coming out of your ass or something. Already a daddy’s girl.”

“Nothing wrong with that. She knows who loves her the most. Who used to bring mommy tacos and ice cream and pop tarts at three in the morning when she was still in mommy’s tummy.”

“She definitely likes your voice. Not that I blame her; it’s a very nice voice.”

“She’s strong as hell already. Already holding her up on her own. None of the other ones did it that early. And she’s got a grip on her. Small and mighty. Like her momma. And you look just like your mom.” he addresses Addie now, as he removes his fingers from her grip and lifts her higher onto his chest; lips resting briefly against her forehead. “Beautiful just like her. Daddy’s not going to complain that you didn’t get his genes.”

“How do you think I feel? The first four look just like you. It’s about time one of them took after me. She does have your smile, though. Even her eyes and her nose wrinkle like yours do.”

“Yeah, but she’s all you. And that’s good,” he smiles up at her once more, as her hands slide over his shoulder and down his chest and she pecks the corner of his mouth. “It’s very good. She’s incredible. Just like you.”

“Are you hopped up on pain meds?” She teases.

“Not yet. Why? I’m not allowed to be all sappy and shit with my wife?”

“You’re allowed,” she says, then sinks down beside him, accepting a short, sweet kiss before stretching out on her side. Chin resting on his good shoulder, one hand on his stomach and the other just above his head; fingers gently combing through his hair. “She’s putting on weight. She’s going to graduate out of preemie clothes and diapers. Only took two and a half months.”

“She’s tiny. Like you.”

“I don’t understand how something that small can come from someone the size of you. None of the other kids were that small. Not even Tanner and he was sick. And Declan? Don’t even get me started on that kid. That was like giving birth to a toddler.”

“She’s always going to be tiny. I mean, you hit twelve and never grew again.”

“You know what, Tyler? Fuck you and your short jokes.”

“Don’t be bitter because you can’t get on the rides at the amusement park or reach things at the bottom of the washer.”

“You’re not very funny,” she grumbles, and presses a kiss to his chin. “Just because you’re absurdly tall and absurdly good looking. What a burden you have to live with every day. How do you manage? How do you carry such a heavy load all the time?”

“Heavy load? We’re talking about my dick?”

“You’re a pig,” she declares. “Don’t talk like that in front of my child. She doesn’t need to hear these things. Look at the way she smiles at you. You’re her favourite already. Not that I blame her; you’re my favourite too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. No one else comes close.”

He smiles, then turns his face into hers and kisses her. “We did good, yeah? With her?”

“We did. With all five of them. And at the risk of sounding conceited, we make some pretty damn good looking kids.”

“Some pretty amazing kids.”

“Well, they have an amazing dad, so…” she raises her head from his shoulder, regarding him intensely as she runs her fingers through his hair. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know,” Tyler admits. “I really don’t.”

“Are you going to tell me about it, or…”

“I don’t really want to.”

“I think you should. I think you NEED to talk about it. And I think deep down, you want to. You don’t have to shelter me, Tyler. I married a mercenary; I went into things understanding the life and knowing the risks. You don’t have to hide stuff from me. You think you’d realize that by now.”

“I do. But YOU should realize that I do it to protect you.”

“Protect me from what? You? Because that’s bullshit and you know it. I’ve never once been afraid of you. Not in the slightest. And despite what you think, you’re not a burden. We went into this...marriage, having a family...expecting to help shoulder each other’s problems. So stop trying to do it all on your own. You’re strong, but you’re not THAT strong.”

He sighs heavily, then drops a kiss on the top of Addie’s head

“What happened, Tyler? Because I know this goes way beyond someone just jumping you. What the hell went wrong?”

“I don’t know. It was fucked up right from the beginning. As soon as I got there. It was this old factory turned into student housing or some shit. I had these four guys to take out; four shots, that’s all I needed. They were across the street at some bar or restaurant or whatever. I was waiting for them to come out. It should have been so fucking simple.”

Esme rolls over onto her stomach, chin resting on his chest as she regards him; patiently waiting for him to continue. She doesn’t push; that will only cause him to shut down completely. Instead she bides her time. Watching his face as her fingers fidget with the chain around his neck.

“Things started going to shit. The street lights kept going on and off; just the two right in front of us. Then they went out completely. So I went to get the scope out of my bag, so I could see what the fuck I was doing.” His eyes narrow and his brow furrows as he attempts to recall the details. “And I don’t know I saw him or heard him but all of a sudden he was just there?”

“Who?”

“I don’t know. Just some guy. Big bastard. Wearing a black ski mask. It happened so fucking fast. I didn’t even get a chance to react. Nailed me right in the shoulder; like he knew where to get me. Where one of my weak spots is.”

“How would he know that?”

Tyler shrugs. “Nik there’s a mole. She said she’s looking into it, but I don’t know. She hasn’t said anything since.”

“What do you think”

“I think something’s fucked. He knew where to get me; knee, back, shoulder. He knew it and he took advantage of it. I stand a fucking chance. That’s how quick he was. He was so fast, babe. He wasn’t fucking around.”

“And where did these come from?” She runs a hand along the enormous, painful to the touch bruises on his biceps; arm now out of the sling. At least for the evening. “Both arms? And that’s NOT from someone grabbing you.”

“It was his knees. He wanted to keep me still; so I couldn’t get to my holster or the rifle. Fucking kept grabbing me by the throat; trying to choke me out. Kept asking me if I give up. I basically told him to go fuck himself. I wasn’t giving up. No way in hell. All I kept thinking about was you…” his voice cracks with emotion and tears well in his eyes. “...all I kept thinking about was you. About me getting a second chance and that I wasn’t done with it; I wasn’t ready to let that end. That I didn’t want to leave you or my kids. That I needed to survive. That YOU needed me to survive.”

“Tyler…” she presses a kiss to his cheek, then nestles her nose against his temple; eyes closed and her forehead against him, fingers still moving through his hair. “...it’s okay. Just breathe. That’s all you have to do. Just breathe.”

“I wasn’t going out like that. I wasn’t letting it end like that. I wasn’t letting US end. So I fought back. But I couldn’t get away. No matter what I did, it wasn’t good enough. He was so fucking strong, babe. Tall and big and heavy as fuck.”

“How did you get away?”

“I don’t know. There’s A LOT I don’t know. That I don’t remember. It’s all a big blur. It’s all there there and I know it’s all there but I can’t piece it together and none of it makes sense.”

“Well tell me what you do remember,” Esme encourages. “It doesn’t have to make sense. Just tell me whatever comes to you.”

“I know he drugged me. I remember that part.”

“Drugged you? What…?”

“He had a needle. I remember seeing it. I remember feeling it. Right there…” he lays a finger against the right side of his neck. “...just jammed it in. It was cold; whatever was in it. It was cold and it burned.”

She heaves a long, shaky sigh; her own tears threatening. “If he wanted to kill you, why would he do that? Why…?”

“He didn’t want to kill me. He wanted to knock my ass out. He probably had a few buddies waiting to help get me out of there. I know that sounds crazy. It sounds fucked up even to me. But I know that’s what was going to happen; what Mahajan told them to do. And I don't know where they were going to take me. Somewhere in the city, out of it, I don’t know. But it wouldn’t have been good once they got me there.”

“I don’t even want what to think about it,” her voice trembles.

“They would’ve let you know. That I was still alive. And they would have made you sure you knew what they were doing to me. They would have sent you pictures or made me call you or mailed you pieces of me.”

“I don’t want to think about it,” she repeats, then promptly bursts into tears; one hand clutching the front of his shirt and the other at his hair, face buried in his neck. “Please don’t. Don’t talk about it. Just stop.”

****

His shoulder throbs just with the simple act of laying his hand on Addie’s back to keep her secure. And he wraps his left arm around his wife’s trembling body, drawing her tightly into his side. Eyes closed and his chin resting on the top of her head; hand sliding up the back of her simple cotton t-shirt, knuckles repeatedly brushing up and down her spine. Not even attempting to hold his own tears back; feeling the moisture from hers settling on the side of his throat and his shoulder.

“I can’t think about it,” she whimpers. “I can’t. I can’t think about what they would have done to you.”

“It’s okay, baby. It doesn’t matter now. I’m here. It didn’t work. Whatever they had planned, I fucked it up. And I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.”

“They’re sick and twisted fucks!” she cries. “And they would have made sure I knew what they were doing to do you and I wouldn’t have been able to do a goddamn thing about it. I wouldn’t have been to help or get you out of there. I wouldn’t have been able to do a fucking thing for you.”

“It’s alright, Esme. You don’t have to worry about it. It didn’t work. I fucked up everything for them and now I’m here with you and the kids. Where I should have been all along.”

“I don’t understand,” she raises her head to look at him. “How did they know where you were?”

Tyler shrugs.

“How did they get that close to you? Close enough to do all of this? How…?”

“I must have slipped up somehow. Maybe my brain is worse than we thought. Maybe I’m slowing down. Making mistakes Maybe…”

“You don’t make mistakes,” she argues. “I know you. I know how you work. I’ve SEEN you work, You don’t slip. You don’t fuck up. And you are as hell aren’t slowing down. You’re even better now than you were back in Dhaka. And that’s saying a lot because you were pretty fucking amazing even then.”

“Something happened. I made a mistake somewhere.”

“YOU didn’t do shit. This isn’t on you, Tyler. This is not your fault. Someone fucked up, but it wasn’t you. Who was watching you? Where were they?”

“Across the street. Keeping an eye on shit.”

“Across the street?! How the hell were they keeping an eye on you from across the goddamn street?! Whose idea was that? Yours?”

“I didn’t want anyone breathing down my neck. I can’t work like that. I’ve NEVER been able to work like that. And it’s not like I knew was going to happen. I didn’t want in there expecting some fuck not come in and choke me out and stab me with a fucking needle.”

“Okay...okay...calm down…” Her tone is gentle, his face in her hands. “...it’s alright. I’m not attacking you. Just take a break; everything’s fine. Addie’s asleep. And so she’s tiny and she’s so warm and I know you don’t want to scare her. Calm down, okay?” She presses a kiss to his lips. “Just stay calm.”

“I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I’m sorry, I didn’t…”

“Who was supposed to be watching you?”

“Nathan. He had to take the four guys out when that fucking asshole came after me,”

“Calm…” she encourages, thumbs brushing over his lips. “...just stay calm. It’s okay. It's just you and me talking. No one else. No one’s judging you, Tyler.”

His eyes close, and he inhales deeply and exhales slowly. “Nathan,” he says, eyes opening and focusing on her. “Nathan was there; across the street. He took care of things. I don’t know what happened after that. Cops showed up, he took off. No one has seen or heard from him since.”

She frowns. “Nathan’s missing?”

“Missing. AWOL. I don’t fucking know. He’s gone. Cell and his SAT just go right to voicemail.”

“Could someone have gotten a hold of him? Could there have been someone else?”

“Why would they want him? What does holding him do? He’s a nobody to them. He means nothing to Mahajan. It’s me he wants. Taking Nathan does shit.”

“Well where could he be? Why would he just take off? That makes no sense.”

“Who the fuck knows. Maybe he’s dead. I have no idea. I just know he’s gone and no one knows where he is.”

“This is fucked up. Way more than we thought it was. We knew it wasn’t going to be easy. That Mahajan plays dirty and that he’d just step it up as time went on. Now people are going missing? YOU almost went missing. What the hell is going on?”

“I don’t know, babe. I really don’t know.”

“You need to walk away. This ends here. Your part is this. It ends right here, right now. Walk away, Tyler.”

“I can’t. The job isn’t even close to being finished.”

“Fuck the job. It’s finished for you. Look at you! Look what they did to you! They knew where you were, they knew what spots to target. They fucking drugged you! That alone could have killed you. Do you even know what he gave you?”

“Ketamine. I guess it’s a sedative of some kind.”

“Yeah, for horses! What the fuck? What’s next? If they get that close again, what happens?”

“They won’t get another chance.”

“You don’t know that. They’re not going to stop, Tyler. Do you really think they’re just going to walk away? They’re not going to give up. Not until they get you. He knows you’re here. Mahajan. He knows you’re in Mumbai. And soon your name and your picture are going to be everywhere and every goddamn gun in this city is going to be pointed at you. Is that what you want? You WANT there to be?”

“No,” he scowls. “That’s NOT what I want.”

“Then why are you doing this? Why won’t you just walk away? Why can’t you just let Anil and his people and Nik and hers handle this? Why are you doing this?”

“Because it’s MY family. Not theirs. Mine.”

“And your family wants you alive!” Esme retorts. “We don’t want you out there dying for us. We need you here. With us. So just tell Anil you’re walking away . That you HAVE to walk away. That you need to be with your family. Tell him.”

Tyler shakes his head. “I can’t, baby. I can’t do that.”

“You don’t need to do this. There’s other people who are more than capable of handling things. Walk away, Tyler. Before you can’t. Before it’s too late. Because if they go that close to you once, they’ll do it again. And this time it won’t be just one guy. It’ll be two. Or three. Or four. Or half a fucking dozen. Why aren’t you listening to me?”

“I am listening. You’re not listening to me.”

“This is a suicide mission. This is the kind shit you used to pull before we met. Don’t go back to that. Don’t go back to being him. He died a long time ago. You said it yourself; that he was long gone. You’re not the same person you were back then. You have me and you have five little beings you helped make. That love you and need you in their lives.”

“I’m doing this for them. For he,” he nods down at Addie as she sleeps peacefully. “So she can grow up. So she can have a life.”

“A life without you. That’s what you’re saying, right? That you’re going to sacrifice yourself for her. For us.”

“We knew that going into this. That it would happen.”

“No. We thought it MIGHT happen. There’s a difference. And I’m asking you...NO...I’m telling you...walk away so you don’t have to make that choice. So it doesn’t come to that.”

“I’m sorry, baby. I am so sorry.”

“So what’s it? You’ve just decided that this is what’s going to happen? You just decided for yourself that you’re going to give up. You’re telling me that you’re okay with that. Dying for us.”

“I’ve already taken bullets for you. Trying to get you the fuck out of Dhaka. And I would take all of those bullets again. And then some. I would die for you in a heartbeat. For you, for my kids. No hesitation.”

“But you shouldn’t have to!” Esme argues. “And you don’t have to. Just walk away. Let other people handle this. Please. You have two choices and you’re making the wrong one. Why can’t you see that?”

“If I give myself up, he’ll leave you alone.”

“You don’t really believe that, do you? That that’s going to solve everything? Because it won’t. You offering yourself up like some kid of sacrificial fucking lamb is not the answer.”

“Hey...calm…” He reaches up and pushes a hand through her hair, tightly gripping the back of her head. “...you told me to stay calm for Addie. Now I need you to stay calm for her. She doesn’t need this. She's a baby. Just a baby.”

“Yeah, she is. She’s OUR baby. As in me and you. And she needs you. She needs her dad. They all do. And you’re sitting here telling me that you’re willing to offer yourself up. It’s bullshit and it’s insane and I want you to knock it the fuck off.”

“I said calm down!” He orders, then aggressively pulls her into him. Pressing a kiss to her forehead. “...just calm down. Please. Take it easy.”

“You are NOT doing this. I won’t let you. This is not what we talked about, This is not what we agreed on.”

“There’s no other choice.”

She shoves him away. “There’s always another choice! It doesn’t have to come down to this. You for us. It doesn’t need to be this way and you know it.”

“I don’t know what you want me to do. I can’t just walk away. I can’t.”

“Promise me when you walk out that door two days from now that won’t just go and offer yourself up. You don’t need to do that. There’s other ways. There’s still fight left in you. I know right now you feel like there isn’t. I know you're doubting yourself. But I have faith in you and I know you can handle this. WITHOUT giving yourself up. Promise me you’ll fight back. That you’re not just quitting. That THAT will be the last resort.”

“If I have no other choice, I’ll do it.”

“But right now you HAVE other choices. You know that, right? You see that?”

Tyler nods.

“Because you don’t give up. You NEVER give up. You’re alive today because you didn’t. So don’t fucking start now. I mean we’re supposed to be having another baby. And I don’t know if you realize how these things work, but I kind of need you for that.”

“I could always just jerk off into a cup and you save it.”

“Okay, you know what? No. I’d rather the old fashion way, thank you. I kind of like having sex with you. It’s kinda fun.”

He smirks. “Kinda?”

“Okay, it’s a lot of fun, actually. I didn’t think I had to say that. I thought the results spoke for themselves. We don’t have kids for nothing. And I’d say go for the sixth one right now, but you jumped the gun and you decided we were done and go the old…” she holds her hand up, mimicking a pair of scissors with her index and middle finger.

“Not my best decision, I admit.”

“You have this uncanny ability of changing your mind about this whole having another baby thing. How many times have we decided that we’re stopping only for you to turn around and want another one the second the baby came home?”

“It’s never been THAT soon.”

“Excuse me? How old were the twins when you decided that three wasn’t enough after all?”

“Yeah…” he gives a small, almost sad smile. “...but that one didn’t work out, did it.”

“No.” She presses a kiss to his temple. “It didn’t. And I know it was hard on you. That you didn’t really get to grieve like I did. I’m sorry for that. That I wasn’t there for you in the way you were for me. I’m pretty fucking selfish, aren’t I.”

“No, you’re not. You needed me a lot more than I needed you. Just hard sometimes still. Thinking about it. It was a shitty fucking time. I didn’t think anything could hurt THAT bad.”

“Do you ever wonder? What it would have been?”

“Sometimes,” he admits, running a palm over Addie’s hair and then laying it gently on the top of her head; thumb repeatedly brushing against her ear. “Sometimes I’ll think about it; if it would have been a boy or a girl and what they would have looked like. Then I think maybe things really do happen to reason, no matter how bad they are. If we had had that baby. Declan wouldn’t be here. And maybe we would have stopped after and Addie wouldn’t be here. And I wouldn’t trade either of them for anything.”

“You’re beautiful,” she says, feeling him grin when she kisses the corner of his mouth. “You have the most beautiful mind and this most beautiful heart. And I know you hate me using that word when it comes to describing you. But it’s true; I can’t help it.”

“I’ll let it slide. I’ll let you have it.”

“I have to say, despite my initial reservations about having another one, you do do the whole ‘big, strong man with a tiny baby’ thing very well.”

“You find it sexy don’t you.”

“Very. I find you very sexy. But this…” she trails her fingertips over the myriad of bruises that take up nearly every inch of his neck. “...this is scary. I’ve seen you with a lot of injuries. I’ve even seen you in the worst possible shape. But this? This bothers me the most for some reason. And what’s going on here…” she turns his face away from her and tender fingers investigate the scar left behind from Farhad. “...what were they trying to do? That’s the worst spot. I don’t think it would take much to fuck things up in there.”

“They knew exactly what to target.”

“Any idea who it was?”

“One of the guys off the list. Number 18. Weird part about it? He worked for Asif during the whole Dhaka thing. Guess he was his right hand man. Moved on to Mahajan when Nik put a couple bullets into Asif.”

“Now that’s fucked, Go from drug lord to the other? So much for loyalty. How’d you kill him?”

“Shot him. Under the chin. I don’t know how I managed. Last thing I remember was that fucking needle. That’s it. Everything else is a blur. Came to and there was a dead body on top of me. I don’t even know how long I was out for.”

“You called me. Some time before you passed you. You don’t remember that, either?”

Tyler shakes his head.

“It freaked me out. I could hear you breathing and it sounded like you were trying to say something. That wasn't a random pocket dial, was it.”

“No. It wasn’t. I don’t even know why I called. I don’t know if I was calling you for help or if I thought I was dying and I wanted to tell you that I loved you…” his voice wavers once again and tears return to his eyes. “...if I wanted your voice to be the last thing I heard. And I wish I did remember it. That I called.”

“It’s okay.” She places a series of kisses across his forehead, then down the bridge of his nose. “...it’s okay now. You’re here and that’s what matters. You made it out of there. You found a way. You always do.”

“What if I don’t next time? What if it is two guys? Or three or four? Half a dozen? A dozen?”

“I shouldn’t have put that in your head. I’m sorry.” She brushes the tip of her nose against his temple. “That is the last thing you needed to hear. I should have kept my mouth shut.”

“I was thinking it long before you said it.”

“I know you want to stay on this. And I get it. I do…” she runs her knuckles along his jaw, beard scraping her skin. “...I know you want to protect us. And I love you so much for that and I love that part of you so fiercely. You ALWAYS protect us. Everything you do, every decision you make, it’s always for us. But you can protect us without being out there. You know you can. I know you can.”

“How? If I don’t stop them, they’ll get to you. And the kids.”

“But if you’re here, you can stop them. And look at all the people that are here to help. Nik, all of Anil’s people. That’s a lot of fire power. And before you hand me that bullshit about how it’s up to you and only you to protect us, don’t even go there. Because you’re good, but not even you can stop them by yourself. You need help. So swallow your fucking pride and admit that. That you can’t do it alone.”

“I’m not alone. I’be some my guys and Nik’s people and…”

“You were alone the other night,” Esme points out. “What was Nathan going to do from across the street? That is not helping. That’s YOUR version of helping. If you’re here, under the same room as all these people, Mahajan and his cronies won’t stand a chance. We’re safer if you’re here. And I think you realize that.”

“It’s putting a bigger target on you and the kids,” he argues. “If they figure out I’m here, they’ll show up.”

“Isn’t that what we want? Them out in the open? Let them come here. With all these people? With you? They won’t get very far, will they At least tell me you’re listening and not blocking me out. Usually I can read your face, but right now I’m not so sure.”

“I’m not blocking you, babe. I’m listening.”

“It makes more sense for you to be here than it does for you to be out on the street where every goddamn gun will be pointed at you. If you’re here, there’s more control over the situation, right? You’d have the upper hand because you’d be familiar with the place and they wouldn’t. And you can’t tell me you wouldn’t feel better being with us. That you don’t WANT to be here.”

“I do,” Tyler assures her. “It’s the only place I do want to be.”

“Then just do it. Just tell Anil that’s how it’s going to be. Explain to him why it makes the most sense. Deep down, you know this is the right thing to do. You know it’s better for us...especially the kids...if you’re here. And I know you can’ deny that it would be better for you, too. Mentally speaking.”

“Yeah,” he admits with a nod. “You’re right.”

“Stop being so stubborn,” Esme implores. “This is not the time for that. You know this is the best way to handle things. I know you do. But I also know you hate taking advice from other people and that everything you do has to be your idea.”

He smirks. “You really DO know me well.”

“I so do. I also know I’m the only one who can talk like this to you and not have you get defensive. It’s too dangerous, Tyler. Especially now that Mahajan knows you’re in Mumbai and he’s stepping things up. You can’t be out on the street and you know it. I know that makes you feel useless. And weak. That you’re second guessing and doubting yourself. And you need to knock that shit off. Because you are the stronger, bravest person I know. And you’re the only one I trust with my life. With our kids’ lives. And I need you here. And you need to be here.”

He sighs, then pushes her fingers through her hair, moving it away from her face and off her shoulder. “Why are you like this?”

“Like what? Insanely beautiful and phenomenally intelligent?”

“I was going to say a huge pain in my ass, but okay, I’ll give you those.”

“What are you so worried about? Mahajan’s people showing up?”

“I don’t exactly what them on the doorstep. I don’t want them where you are. Where the kids are.”

“How far could they get with all these people here? I practically can’t take a pee without someone with an AK following me to the bathroom. What do you think can happen when there’s that much firepower here?”

“That’s exactly it. Firepower. With my kids here.”

“I’m not worried about that. Half of Anil’s basement is a panic room. The kids and I will be fine.”

Tyler frowns.

“What?”

“Why the hell didn’t you mention that right off the hop? Why didn’t you tell me that an hour ago when we started talking about this?”

“I didn’t think it was important.”

He stares at her pointedly.

“I forgot,” Esme admits. “I’m sorry. I should have told you about the panic basement.”

“I swear to God, for the last seven years, this is how our conversations have gone. We talk about something for an hour when it could have been solved in five minutes. You always leave out that one piece of information that could have saved us a lot fucking time.”

“I’m sorry…” she pouts dramatically, then places a line of kisses along his jaw, over his ear, and up onto his head. “...I know that annoys you. Do you still love me?”

“I do. But fuck, you’re a pain in my ass. No wonder I have gray hair and an ulcer.”

“You don’t have an ulcer.”

“Not yet. But when I get one, it’ll have your name on it.”

“I have a confession.”

He sighs. “Of course you do. What is it?”

“I annoy you on purpose. Because you’re so cute when you’re annoyed. You get the cutest look on your face. It’s adorable. I can’t help myself. I’m sorry. I like your face and all your expressions. You have a really nice face.”

He grins. “I’m starting to really question your taste in men.”

“Please! You know you’re ridiculously good looking. It’s okay to be a bit conceited. I can forgive you for that if you can forgive me for being annoying.”

“I don’t know. You’re pretty fucking annoying.”

She scowls, then bites down on his earlobe.

“Ow! Fuck sakes! What is wrong with you? I’m not hurt enough for you? Why you do me like that?”

“Because I know you like it. MY particular brand of pain. What are you going to do? Spank me?”

“You’d like that too much.”

“I would actually,” she says, and then shivers against him when his fingertips graze down her spine. Giggling and squirming against him when he grabs her ass and roughly squeezes “That hurts! What’s your issue?”

“You really want to know?”

Esme nods.

He removes his hand from her ass, then takes one of hers and places it on his crotch.

“Oh…” her eyes widen. “...that’s the only part of you that’s not hurt and IS working properly.”

“You sound disappointed.”

“I am definitely not. Because I missed you. And I’m not talking the sappy and corny shit about missing you and your quirks and all the stupid shit you do. Right now, I really miss having sex with you.”

“If you had just admitted that an hour ago, we could have skipped over a whole lot of drama.”

“We said things that needed to be said and talked about things we needed to talk about. And now, I think you need to use your mouth for something else. IF you’re up to it.”

“Oh, I’m up to it. THAT anyways. Anything else, you might have to do the work. Or the majority of it anyway.”

“You mean I get to be in charge?”

He frowns. “I never said that.”

“You’re such a control freak,” she says, then pecks his lips before sling off the lounge chair and carefully removing a sleeping Addie from his chest. “I’m going to go and put her in her bed. And when I get back, you better be in mind. Naked. Ready to go. I’m not fucking around. Well, I AM. Fucking that is, You know what I mean.”

He’s grinning as he watches her ass move as she walks away. “How much DID you miss me?”

“Not THAT much, Tyler. Forget about it. It’s not our anniversary yet.”

“Early anniversary present?” He suggests hopefully.

“You wish!” She scoffs, then disappears into the house.

#tyler rake #tyler rake fan fic #tyler rake fan fiction #extraction #extraction 2020 #best part of me #chris hemsworth character

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sethrine-writes · 4 years ago

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Daughter of a Devil, Ch. 18

Main Characters: Father!Dante & Daughter!Reader

Words: 1442

Warnings: Angst, Blood, Mild Gore, Protective Dante

Story Summary: Being a parent wasn’t easy, nor was there such thing as being perfect at it. Good news for Dante, seeing as how he doesn’t have the slightest idea in hell what to do with a child. Sometimes, he was certain that fighting off a horde of demons was a far better match than keeping up with his own daughter. Well, at least he wasn’t going down without a fight.

A/N: This chapter is a bit heavier than earlier depictions. Do heed the tags, though it’s not extremely detailed stuff. Just lots of mentions of it.

------

Chapter 18 - The Devil We Hide (7 yrs.)

Never before had your eyes seen so much red…so much blood…

You were completely stricken with fear at the very sight before you, too afraid to move and too afraid to say a word despite being out in the open and vulnerable to attack.

Lady was right; you should have stayed back, away from the demons and possessed humans that had stolen you away. Better yet, you should have stayed hidden like your father had told you to when he found you, but the very fear that froze you now was what had pulled you out into the seemingly empty courtyard, afraid to be left alone, afraid that Dante wouldn't make it in time to save you.

There were so many demons, after all, and the possessed beings had all sorts of strange weapons with them. It had only been a matter of time before they found you again.

The fear you felt now, however, had you glued to the spot, unable to look away even with the horrors presented to your young eyes.

Your father was spattered in blood, human blood, as he battled off the possessed, his eyes wide with rage as he swung his sword at his attackers without mercy.

Never before had you seen him so angry, all because you had been taken right from under him, right from your very bedroom back at Devil May Cry. You remembered screaming for your father, glass shattering, darkness...then waking up in a strange, empty room, right on the floor in the middle of some weird drawings you had only seen similar depictions of in those dusty books Dante told you were off-limits.

He was fighting off the possessed so well, until a hulking figure of a man swathed in white and gold caught him off guard, overpowered him in just a few simple moves until he had Dante on the ground by the neck. His smile was sinister and gleeful, and his words dripped venom in such a sickly sweet way that caused your very skin to prickle uncomfortably.

“That daughter of yours is so precious, so pure, even with the taint of Sparda's blood, that it’s almost a shame to use her as a sacrifice. But, won’t the floors look so lovely stained with that pretty blood of hers?”

The scene before you changed so drastically in such a short amount of time; it was hard to believe anything you were seeing was real.

Your father’s eyes took on a glowing, red hue without warning, and with an enraged shout to the heavens, a powerful swirl of violet and white engulfed his being all for five seconds. When the bright lights cleared, a demon you had never seen before had suddenly taken your father's place, an enraged demon with piercing eyes and a red hide covering its form.

It took hold of the man trying to keep him on its back and, with ease, ripped his arm clean off his body. Blood flew through the air as the hulking man shouted his pain, speckles of red flying far enough that you were forced to finally look away and close your eyes, a gasp leaving your lips at the warm drops landing themselves on your face.

It was that very sound that had the demon turning, its piercing blue eyes rimmed with glowing red catching your gaze as you stared back, a bit of humanity within the damned. The demon, you realized, wasn’t an ordinary demon, not like the ones who attacked humans and had a hand in taking you away. The demon, tearing another human being apart and all but bathed in his blood, was your father.

The fear in you snapped, and a scream of unhinged horror rang through the courtyard, echoing eerily within the area.

You were aware of arms wrapping around you just as suddenly as Lady’s own voice reaching your ears, yet your screams continued until you were taken away from the gruesome display. There was still far too much blood, too many dead bodies and ashen demon carcasses and weird, glowing symbols littering the ground, and still, you screamed and cried and wanted it all to end. It was too much, just too much for your little mind to handle.

Your vision clouded over as your screams died down, suddenly too dizzy to do much else but rest against Lady as she ran with you in her arms.

Sleep came so quickly, then, and it led you into blissfully empty darkness.

---

“You lost control tonight,” Lady stated, slowly combing her fingers through your newly cleaned hair as you slept soundly against her side.

Dante knelt down beside you and carefully took hold of your limp hand, running his thumb over your small fingers. You were safe again, back in Devil May Cry under his watchful eye once more. That you had been taken from him so easily just hours prior wasn't sitting well in his thoughts, however, and he was sure it would be days, possibly even weeks before he got any form of sleep just from the worry alone.

“I know. I couldn’t stop myself, this time. I'm used to demons, they're easy, but he made a threat against my daughter-”

“That man made you picture horrible things, Dante. You had every right to be angry.”

“Not like that. Not in front of her."

Lady went silent as Dante continued to gaze at your sleeping form, reaching forward gently to wipe the remnants of tears from just under your eyes. He was thankful Lady had been able to clean you up, take care of you when he was trying to put himself back together.

“I never wanted her to see that side of me, not so young, anyway. I know she understands what demons are, what they’re capable of, but…I don’t want her to think that I’m like that. I don’t want her to be afraid of me or think that she’ll end up like that, too.”

He stood then, his eyes somewhat hidden by the longer fringe of his hair as he carefully picked up your slumbering form from off the couch beside Lady. He gently positioned you to lay your head high on his chest while both arms hung limply over his shoulders and down his back, his arms holding you firmly against him, as close as he was able to have you in his embrace.

He gave Lady a small smile before turning and heading for the stairs. For the foreseeable future, he didn't plan to let you out of his sight, not until he was sure you could be safe in your own home.

“Dante.”

Dante stopped just before reaching the stairs, turning ever so slightly to let Lady know she had his full attention.

“She's a very bright young girl. She understands more things than other children her age ever could, all because you chose to let her understand instead of hiding this demonic world from her. As long as you let her know everything, she won’t have any reason to fear the devils we hide. She may be frightened now, but she’ll understand, and she’ll be stronger because of it.”

Dante couldn't help but smile ever so slightly.

Lady was right.

You were born and raised within a world of humans and demons, of both good and evil. There was nothing you wouldn't be able to handle, given enough time and patience and a whole lot of explanation. As long as he gave you the chance to understand, there was nothing for you to be afraid of.

“Thank you, Lady.”

He continued his trek up the stairs as you shifted in his hold, your arms coming up to wrap around his neck loosely as you shifted to rest your head more on his shoulder, your breaths warm and steady against his neck.

He may have been born a half-demon, but he was more human than devil. More importantly, he was a father, a damn good one, too, and he adored you more than anything in the world.

Until his dying breath, he would keep you safe, educated, and so very much loved.

---

Your eyes opened just barely, a small smile coming to your lips at the familiar feel of leather against your fingers. You spoke softly, your sleep-muddled mind only able to form one simple sentence before you were forced back into sleep, mind still too groggy to do much else.

Faintly, you were aware of a kiss to your forehead and the gentle, deep thrum of your father’s voice before dreams took hold of your mind once more.

“Love you too, squirt. Love you, too.”

#dmc #devil may cry #dmc dante #devil may cry dante #reader #reader-insert #female reader #Daughter of a Devil

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suffering-and-happy-about-it · 4 years ago

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Lost Faith (Favored Ones, Part 24.)

Series description: Many things were surely fucked up in the year 2038, but no-one ever told anyone how all of it went down. What happened before a group of people left for Seattle to handle personal matters? Why did one girl refuse to leave all of it be? And why there were so many dead in the end?

Quote for the chapter: “Live with me in this sin forever.” - Danny Kiranos

Part summary: Seattle was turning into a living nightmare - but finally, you had an information you wanted so bad in your palms. You got to know where Abby is.

A/N: I am sorry for describing such open violence, it’s going to be really disgusting with the upcoming parts. It is how it is.

Warnings: Gore, blood, murder, infected, guns, shooting, angst, graphic depiction of manslaughter.

Word count: 5.8 K

Tagging: @nemodoren @xxgoldenhour @missdictatorme @davnwillcome @pickleriiick @jodiereedus22 @gladiosamicitias @tamkashi @eternallyvenus @avengerssstuff @fangirl-inthe-us @avery-miller @mikah-writes @mad-hatter-98 @sadiaafrin99 @flavorishy

Series master list: H E R E

Joel Miller’s playlist for the bonfire occasions: H E R E

Youtube playlists: JACKSON DAYS | SEATTLE DAYS

Seattle, day two - evening:

It was dark outside for you to see anything. Maybe it was the coverage of the trees making it more difficult to see, but this place was simply too dark. But it came with one fact which made you realize that you maybe aren't that screwed. The Scars couldnt see shit either, so they were carrying torched to light up their surrounding. At least some of them to this degree.

"Who is that?" - Ellie whispered, looking around as well. You gazed back at her quickly to assure yourself that any of those fuckers are in close proximity to your bracken hiding spot. When you couldnt see any brown coat, you managed to speak quietly.

"These are the Scars. The enemies of the WLF. They communicate through whistling, so that's a catch." - You described your enemies quickly while getting up on your knees to see you'll be able to maneuver through the park, slowly getting some hang on the surroundings. - "They shoot arrows on sight, but if we take out of them, I can shoot back hopefully." - This was actually a good plan you came up with. There was no sureness if you'd make it out unnoticed, but taking out some of them could make your way easier.

"Hey, see these two loners next to the huge tree?" - Ellie pointed to a couple standing a few feet away from you. One of them was holding a torch and the other one was inspecting something, which made them an ideal target. Without any hesitation, you nodded and Ellie nodded back you, making sure you caught her drift. You were about to take them out. And so you got to the job, moving around as quietly and quickly as possible, running from one bush of bracken to another, waiting for a bit and repeating the process again. Ellie took out the standing one while you jumped on the back of the kneeling Scar, covering their mouth with your palm as you pushed your knife into the middle of their neck. It didn't even feel unnatural or too stuff by that pint. Your arm just automatically pushed deeper in, making sure that the son of a bitch stays dead when you let them go.

This couple was a bingo for the both of you - Ellie used the revolver rounds and you stole the four arrows you found at one of the bodies. Truth be told, this wasn't much ammunition - but it was better than nothing, that was for sure. Your chances of survival suddenly rose a little. Next, you made your way to another part of the park, killing everyone on sight quietly. Usually, you kneeled further away from them while Ellie hid behind them, waiting for you to shoot the arrow into their neck. After that, she made sure they won't get back on their legs ever again. If you'd had to admit something, it was you and Ellie being an extraordinary team when it came to killing both normal people and the infected. There wouldn't be any point in denying the fact.

It only got harder when you got to face the brutal scenery reminding you of the reality of Seattle. Two scars were dragging a man on the ground. He was pleading for his dearest life, crying out for help. And you'd help him if Ellie's palm didn't hold you down. It would be too dangerous to reveal yourself. If you wouldn't be too careful, this could be your faith as well.

The man was dragged to the third Scar, who was preparing a noose for him as the person watched him getting dragged on the mud, the stones and the branches fallen off the trees. This was making you sick from your stomach. You watched the shaming process until the very end - they hung him up and cut his belly open, watching as the blood and intestines basically fell out of his abdominal cavity. He was still fighting for his life when the group talked about him being freed from some sins or what. And as you and Ellie changed the position, hiding behind a fallen tree, you could see not one... But at least a dozen persons hung up in the same way.

"The TV station..." - Ellie sighed upon the terrifying sighting, trying to find some words to say. - "It was the Scars' doing. They hung the men up and killed Leah before we could get to her." - You finished quietly, looking at all of the people hanging there, being killed in the most humiliating way possible. With their hands tied behind their back, their abdominal cavity opened up and choked to death.

As you kneeled there and watched their work, of which the Scars were seemingly proud of, you felt another wave of rage filling you up. Without realizing what you were doing, you took out an arrow, watching a loner with a torch walking closer to you. It didn't matter in which fuckery did these psychos believed in. They were hunting down all people, putting them up as trophies of sorts, hanging each one of them in a gruesome way. Why should you have mercy when they didn't have any? Did their religion give them some sort of permission to do that to the others? Oh, you highly doubted that.

Some high-pitched sound was filling your eardrums up as your breathing got heavier and heavier. These fucks alone were responsible for Joel's death. No-one else was to be blamed then them. The beating of your heart was like drums inside your brain as you put your elbows high enough to go for her fucking head to shoot the loner down. Before Ellie could stop you from releasing the string, the arrow was on its way. What did happen after that, you didn't know.

Only glimpses of this action remained inside your head. Their begging when you circled your elbow around their neck as you sliced their fucking throats as if they were pigs. Shooting and yelling of commands, loud and warning whistling, begging for life. The blood soaking into the leather coats as the rain started falling through the coverage above. Suddenly, you winked again, waking up from the violent rage. You were standing next to the hanged man, who was still suffocating to his death with more than seven dead Scar bodies around you.

You were covered in blood from head to toes, trembling with your knife in your palm as you tried to remember what just happened. Then you noticed Ellie with her revolver standing in front of you with a blank expression as she was thinking about something, slowly putting the smoking gun down. - "Did I do this?" - One look around told you that you, in fact, cause all of that. All these people were stabbed to death, only some of them were also shot to their legs or arms.

"I couldn't stop you. It was as if... As if there was no-one inside you for a moment." - The girl confessed as you let the knife fall on the ground to follow it, puking into the small puddle of water. Your stomach was contracting for a long time, but nothing other than saliva left your body. You noticed a drop of blood slowly rolling to your nose as you concentrated on your reflection. Your eyes were empty, but it was the only feature you were able to recognize. You felt Ellie's palm tugging you up back on your feet, leading you to another hideout.

"They must've heard what happened here, so we better move it. You weren't exactly discreet or quiet with this matter." - The redhead whispered and started to wipe the blood off of your forehead. How could you know what you're feeling with the utter chaos roaming every small part of your body? You already started to grief for Joel as your brain slowly connected the dots, but it turned out differently than sadness usually does. It was indeed very useful, but not in your current situation. - "You holding up?" - She asked when she saw the spaced-out expression you had.

"Aren't you afraid of me now?" - A whimper left your lips as you felt the urge to cry. At that moment, were you still having the moral high ground when it came to Ellie and Joel? Or were you just like them since that moment? You killed at least eleven people in a spawn of two to three minutes. Like a brute. But Ellie shook her head with an unnatural expression. - "We do what we need to do. We endure and survive." - The girl told you and checked the surroundings once again. No-one was coming in your direction. It looked safe. - "Comic books can teach a hell load of stuff when you read the right ones." - She explained the quote as you made your way through an empty, corroded parking lot full of empty cars. As you found the staircase leading up, Ellie made sure she goes first before any of these bat shit crazy thoughts you clearly had would fuck your head up again. This wasn't what you two needed at the moment.

Well, fuck both of you, there were more Scars in your way once you came out of the building. Which could be a problem once you'd let yourself set loose again. So she made sure you're staying put by kneeling with you beyond one of the obstacles. - "Listen. I need you to shoot them down just like before, okay?" - Ellie asked you and watched your head nodding so she'd be at least partially sure you won't go all crazy again. - "Alrite. Imma go first there and you'll follow me once this area is cleared out, we clear?" - Again, you confirmed, preparing your bow and steadying yourself on your position. The girl was on the move and you just kneeled there, having the first one on your mark - you were ready to fire once you'd get the signal. It came soon enough. Ellie jumped over the huge guys' chest and sliced his throat - but that wasn't enough to bring him down. So, with a shallow breath, you went for his exposed chest, hitting the spot where you thought he'll have the heart. It wasn't sure if you hit or miss in the first few moments, but soon enough, you watched him crumble down like a house of cards.

You walked through this part of the city just like that - you sneaked around in the tall grass, took cover behind cars and walls and you were leading the long-ranged attacks while Ellie was doing the manual job. You didn't even have to be afraid that you'll go out of arrows. Scars had more than enough archers, which played in your favors. Sure, it felt weird to go through cooling bodies of your enemies, but it turned out these fucks had a lot of stuff. A lot of gun ammo, some first aid supplies, arrows, and... - "Wow. Would you look at that." - You mumbled to Ellie once you bowed over to pick a manual weapon. You snorted upon watching the blade of the machete, knowing damn well this girl will be put to use very soon. Quickly, you pinned into the small drink rack on your backpack with straps so it wouldn't fall out that easily, looking at Ellie.

"We should move on. Let's jump off here, to the other concrete island, yeah?" - The girl pointed her finger below you and you chuckled ironically. Well, not that you could choose. You've scavaged the whole place already and there was no other option for you to go. So you sighed and looked at your best friend. - "Please, may the Lord let me survive to see another day." - You said before jumping down. Your muscles jolted in a weird way as you muttered out a curse word. - "Watch out!" - Ellie yelled at you just before a Scar shot a bullet at you. Quickly, you pulled out your gun, trying to shoot him down as well while Ellie landed next to you, taking care of the other two men standing at the island.

When it was silent there again, you laid down on your back while Ellie sat down, catching some breath. - "Fucking Christ. We can't have one peaceful moment in this shit hole, can we?" - You stated, as a matter of fact, having your friend chuckling at it as she shook her head. When you caught at least a bit of energy, you decided to continue trough a make-up store to see where it leads. But mostly you chose this route because of the hospital war right behind it. Ellie went to open up the door just when it got torn from the doorframe.

A huge man in a leather coat came out of the doorframe, holding a massive hammer in his arms as he walked up to Ellie, having an obvious message inside his face. He hadn't noticed you, so you ducked behind one of the covers, taking out the machete from the place you've had it at. You knew it will come in handy - yet you couldn't know it will be so soon.

Ellie was in life-threatening danger - but you couldn't go to a one-on-one fight with this man. Against him, you were a branch on a dead tree. But you could surprise him. All it took was a bit of patience and a lot of hope that Ellie won't get hurt or killed before that moment.

Your guts told you when it was safe to go after the man, jumping on his shoulders and piercing the machete through his chest. This one was way stiffer than going for someone's neck, that was for sure. While you were hanging on the man's back, pushing the machete deeper with your torso, Ellie picked up on her legs and took her revolver out, going after the big guy's companion who was shooting arrows at you.

It was pure chaos, to say the least. The big guy groaned in pain as you felt your chest meet his shoulder blades, meaning that the machete cut through him. Finally, you felt the man collapsing under you while Ellie still had her little shoot out with the other Scar.

When the man was finally laying on his back, you could see the tip of your weapon coming out of his upper belly. But no matter how much the guy was hurt, he didn't seem to be dying just yet. So, without hesitation, you leaned down to rip the sledgehammer out of his grasp, finishing him for good.

The man was fighting back forcefully. He tried to push you down so much that you involuntary decided to fall into the deepest pit of the brutal animality - you stepped in his face with your boot, finally securing the sledgehammer... Smashing it right into his skull without the slightest attempt to stop yourself from making a jam out of the human being's organs.

The crack haunted your ears for another five minutes. You were standing above the dead body, watching everything sort of slowly leaking out of the man's skull. Your stomach was still kicking in, but you didn't feel anything anymore. The view was gross to look at, but... Your consciousness was completely quiet. There wasn't single remorse, no bad thoughts haunting your head, panic attack, or grossing out about yourself.

It scared you - especially when you realized that the only thought making you angry was that your machete was now stuck in the man's body, which made it unusable now. Unless you'd be willing to turn him on his back and pull it out again. Which you didn't want to do that at all. - "Fucking hell. Are you okay?" - Ellie turned her head at you and you, with an empty expression, turned your head at her back. Without a word, you nodded and went to check the other room to see if there's anyone still alive there.

It struck at the very moment. The emptiness inside your chest and head. You figured out why was it there. It finally clicked inside your head. This was what being fueled by rage felt. On the inside, you were eaten alive by hatred because of Joel. Sure, there was this thing about revenge which made you come to Seattle in the first place, but it wasn't the emotion of rage at the time. Yet the longer Joel wasn't there, the longer you processed that the Scars maybe killed him on the unfinished bridge, the more of rage was ramping inside of you. His disappearance made you lashing out on two occasions now - how many of these sudden lashing outs did you have in front of you? None? One? Ten?

This could cost you your life if you wouldn't be careful. And if you'd get that WLF whore into your hands... Oh, boy.

"Ellie?" - A mumble filled the silence as you made your way forward, swimming in deep water because there was no other way to get into the hospital complex. At the moment, you both stopped and just tried to keep your heads above the surface. The girl looked you in the eyes, knitting her eyebrows together. - "Don't let me get to Nora under any circumstances, can you promise me that?" - This demand clearly surprised your best friend. But to a certain degree, she could understand what was that about.

She didn't believe that Joel would get killed by a bunch of bow-shooting, whistling savages. No. He was a man who had to have his own back for twenty years. This very man was capable of murdering a whole patrol consisting of twenty people inside of a Pittsburg hotel, which she saw with her own eyes. This man taught her every small thing about survival inside the enemy's territory - from how to sneak around to making them terrified of her.

Yet the weird, unsettling feeling was tickling her guts. It was more or less a what-if situation which her brain wasn't accepting. No. Joel had to be alive. The man had to be fucking alive. Because she knew that if you'd bump into Joel's body hung just like the man you've seen being executed earlier, she'd fall into a way deeper and way more aggressive state than you were at. So, your demand made sense to her, having her promise you to keep you out of Nora's presence by any means necessary.

You entered the hospital through the lower floor, which was mostly flooded. Both of you went into an immediate quiet mode as soon as you recognized that you've finally entered the enemy's territory. Now, there weren't any bow-shooting savages who sometimes knew how to use a bow. Now, you had to be extra-careful, since you found yourself in a hospital full of trained soldiers. Especially, when one of them was sitting on a box with their back turned at you. - "Stay here. I'll deal with her, try to ask where Nora is." - Ellie instructed you before swimming off. With a quick nod, you caught one of the flooded boilers to take a bit of rest.

Ellie swung behind the person, putting her ejection knife to the girl's throat, tearing headphones out of her ears. - "Don't make a fucking sound." - Ellie muttered with ice-cold calmness, using her knee to make the girl raise both her palms up. - "Hands up." - Ellie said her point out loud, making sure she had control over the situation.

"Easy... Easy." - "You know a girl named Nora?" - Ellie asked instead of lowering her attention too much. - "Sure, yeah." - The girl nodded frantically. The sound of her gulping traveled all the way to you. - "Where is she?" - "In the hospital." - "Where in the hospital?" - You could physically see Ellie rolling her eyes at the dodging answers the headphone girl was giving her. But in the next moment, as the muscles on Ellie's arm flexed and pushed the knife closer to the girl's throat, she finally decided to speak clearly.

"They're c-clearing the upper floors. She's somewhere in there." - With the realization, you saw that Ellie's attention faded away into the background as she thought about something. That was the moment the headphones girl could fight for her life, and so, she was quick to take her own knife out, turning out to face Ellie. Ellie managed to grasp the girl's wrist holding the knife, keeping it away from her body. Without you grasping the situation, Ellie's arm sprung forward, stabbing the girl's throat straight forward, making you stop for a second.

You took a moment to see Ellie's response before you swam after your friend as you both watched the girl suffocating in her own blood. Well, this was starting in a splendid way. - "This didn't go as planned, did it?" - You asked and leaned closer to the girl, watching her face for the first time. And she was offputtingly familiar to your eyes. But honestly, you couldn't determine if she was a part of Baldwin or not in the state you were at.

"Fuck, of course, it didn't go as planned. Holy shit." - Ellie sighed, catching her temples with both her palms, trying to calm herself down. It was your time to intervene - so you stood up in front of her, catching both her shoulders in your palms. - "Calm the fuck down." - You mumbled, having the girl lowering her arms down as she started to stare at you. - "We need to move our asses if we don't want the WLF finding us standing above their stabbed friend. Get your shit together and let's go."

It was funny to see how your roles suddenly changed. Just a day ago, you puked the fuck out of you after you left the TV station, having Ellie and Dina calming you down, telling you that what you did was the right response in the situation you've found yourself in. Now, you were calming Ellie down after her body performing an automatic self-defense reaction. Ellie slowly nodded, gulped, and remained herself to keep her shit together, as you put it.

Both of you were so close to finding Nora. Nora who knew Abby. That Nora who was photographed with the rest of the Jackson-attacking WLF party. The woman who could tell you where Abby could be. So, you set on your way through the whole hospital. - "By the way, did Dina found any more things out? About Owen, Mel, maybe the Hispanic man?" - You asked when you gathered some bullets you've found in a small storeroom next to the spot the headphones girl was sitting at. - "I mean, we can maybe continue when you confront Nora. We don't even have to stop." - You offered, but to your disappointment, Ellie just shook her head.

"Yeah, from what Dina understood when I and Jesse got back," - "Jesse is here? Our black-haired Jesse? Jackson Jesse?" - You shot back almost immediately. The girl slowly straightened up, looking at you. There was no proper time to tell you she found Jesse instead of Tommy when she was in Hillcrest. - "He went after us all the way just the other fucking day after we left Jackson. Listen, I don't know what was he thinking either?" - "Fuck it. Just tell me what Dina found out." - You mumbled angrily, shoving some chocolate bar you've found down your throat.

This situation was bad. And it was seemingly getting worse and worse with each passing hour. If you'd be in Jackson, you'd be shaken just by the thought of killing someone else. Let alone sledgehammering their skull. But there you were, doing all you had to do if you wanted to survive long enough to see another day. But with Jesse joining you in Seattle, there was another unknown added to the equation. Dina was fucking pregnant with this boy. He was another person to feed, to look after, to protect. Sure, he could be helpful in more ways than in which was he a deadweight, but still... Your gut told you that Jesse joining you on your small Seattle quest was something that was about to end fucking bad.

"Dina thinks that Owen had gone AWOL, possibly with Mel, we don't know that yet. She was mentioned in the reports about Owen." - "AWOL?" - You asked back and Ellie thought about other ways to tell you the piece of information. - "He went dark, disappeared, WLF don't know where he is at this moment." - She explained swiftly.

The piece of information made you stop everything you were doing for a small moment as you looked Ellie in the eyes again. Owen had gone dark? Did he disappear? The man who was helping Abby with every moment of fucking you up was nowhere to be found at the moment? Was there a possibility you wouldn't get him the piece of humble pie he deserved? Why was it crumbling all down? Trying to get through it, you nodded, sighing once again.

"Let's go." - Your best friend patted your shoulder, leading you through the first floor of the hospital. Yet just when you were about to leave into a small opened space with a big white tent, her arm pulled you down. - "I kinda forgot to mention they have dogs. Look around, we need some plan to get done with this... Quietly." - Ellie instructed you. The information about the dogs made you worried. What should you do with an animal like this? While you couldn't take care of the dogs, you could see a way of keeping the men under your eye.

"See that nest out there?" - You asked, motioning to the other side of the small yard. - "Get me up there and we can make it work." - So, it was decided. For the first time, you tried to keep the whole operation as quiet as possible, making sure you dispose of the dead WLFs in a way so their friends couldn't see them right away. Soon enough, you were kneeling inside the nest, having a dead sniper laying on the ground behind you. It was your time to shine while Ellie was working manually down there, making her way to the inside.

Your plan was easy - making some noise outside, diverting the attention to the yard for Ellie to have her space inside. Which you could make work because Ellie gave you a pre-prepared Molotov and another empty bottle. So far, your estimations involving proximity worked, so why would you fail now, right? First, you threw the bottle out, waiting for the first ones coming out. There weren't many of them, so had to pick a different approach.

You grabbed the rifle which was laying there, firing to the air to alert the WLFs. Sure. What now? - "Trespasser! In the tent!" - You yelled to lure them exactly where you wanted them to be. And to your surprise, they gathered around the tent, searching through it. At that moment, you felt it's right to throw the bottle. And so you did. All you did was sitting there, listening to what you've caused in horror as it slowly settled down.

The whole tent was now on fire. Because you threw a Molotov at it shamelessly. To divert their attention. Now, you were watching a group of people you've just set on fire along with the tent. First, you let yourself somewhere back there in the bridge-building. Then, you killed a guy in a gruesome way. Now, you set people on fire. But it worked because soon enough, you heard the WLF going after Ellie, who infiltrated the building.

For quite a long time, you just sat there with your back leaned to the nest's wall, looking down on the yard to see if something goes bad. It was hard to say how much time passed by when Ellie crawled out of a different end of the yard. Just one look told you the shit, whatever happened there, went downhill. Usually, you being the clumsy one, you ended up covered in blood since you entered Seattle. But now, Every small piece of Ellie's clothing was ravaged in small splashes of blood. Without much hesitation, you climbed down, dragging Ellie out of the hospital, setting back on your way to the theatre.

Once you didn't feel threatened with the WLFs, infected or the Scars, you sat Ellie down to catch some breath. - "Okay, start talking." - You mumbled to the disoriented girl. Her breath was shallow and somehow, the seemed to be out of the world. Just after you shook her shoulders, her palms gripped your forearms as she partially got back to reality. - "You're freaking me out, Ellie. What happened?" - You mumbled, watching Ellie, sitting opposite of her to keep her mentally with you at least a bit.

"It's about... Nora. She's dead." - The girl breathed out, trying to search for words to say. - "The Scars? Did the Scars kill Nora as well?" - You answered immediately to keep the flow going. Ellie shook her head and looked into your eyes. - "I did... I have... I killed her, Y/N. I did it." - Then you didn't get the issue of the situation. Ellie had murdered tens, maybe hundreds of people before. Why would Nora shake her guts so hard? - "I didn't want to, but she didn't give any other option. I chased her down to an area full of spores... And... Then... It got into me." - Ellie started to ramble, but you didn't say a word. You just listened to what she had on her mind. You've seen Ellie with tears in her eyes rarely, yet there you were, having the girl trembling under your fingers.

"It got so personal. I was standing above her when she started to swing the pipe at me, but she was already suffocating. All I could see was she and her friends hurting you and Tommy in the cabin, realizing Nora probably knows where Abby is now. And I hit her. And then I hit her again. And again." - She explained and shook her head. This was getting into her head as well, which was breaking you apart. Gently, you let the girl slowly slip into your arms as you smoothed her back with quiet hums. - "The Seattle Aquarium." - Ellie whispered suddenly. - "She might be in the aquarium."

While you gathered your mind to realize what did that mean, you didn't spot the shadow lurking behind you. But suddenly, something grabbed both of you.

#ellie williams #ellie the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller x y/n #joel miller imagine #joel miller the last of us #dina the last of us #dina something something #jesse the last of us #dina x ellie #joel and ellie #the last of us #the last of us part two #the last of us part 2 #the last of us imagine #tlou #tlou2

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recurring-polynya · 4 years ago

Note

saw your tags and I’M BEGGING YOU something about the rukia vs as nodt fight maybe just a drabble however you see fit 🥺🥺🥺

I am sorry this took so long!! Anyway, this ask was in reference to this post about the fears Rukia experienced during the As Nodt fight. I honestly don’t know why I have never seen another fic about this, but if you know of one, send it my way!!

In any case, I don’t usually write dark stuff, but I am good at it, actually, so this one gets a TRIGGER WARNING: Intrusive ideation of the gruesome death of a loved one. Eight times. Probably some spoilers for the TYBWA.

PS: If you want to know more about the time Renji broke his arm in Inuzuri, it’s a shoutback to this.

Rukia is running, her filthy bare feet pounding against the hardpack. She can hear the echoes of other feet behind her, but she can’t tell how many. She skids to a halt, panting, and turns, eyes wide and panicked, ready to count one, two, three, four heads. Four plus her means that everyone is safe.

She is alone.

---

Rukia flinches, waiting for the lead pipe to splatter her brains across the dusty Inuzuri street. But there is no pain, only the sound of bone crunching, followed by a soft grunt.

She has been rescued. Renji, as is his way, has placed himself between herself and the consequences of her actions once again. His arm now hangs uselessly at his side, dripping blood steadily onto the ground. “Fuck you!” he screams at her attacker, who raises the pipe for a second swing.

This isn’t right, Rukia tells herself. This isn’t how it happened.

Hot blood splashes across her face.

---

They stayed too late in the 77th. Renji kept eying the pale clouds gathering overhead, but Rukia thought she could score a few of scraps of food as the vendors in the market were shutting down. Not only was she wrong, but the snow had started falling when they were still a mile north of the Inuzuri border.

Now they were huddled against the bole of an old, half-rotten oak, under a pile of what little brush they were able to gather before the visibility went down to nothing.

Rukia’s brain feels fogged and sleepy. She honestly can’t tell if she’s hot or cold, temperature has become some alien concern. Renji’s arm, wrapped around her, pulling her close, feels heavy, too heavy.

“Renji,” she mumbles. “Renji, don’t go to sleep.”

Her eyelashes are crusted with snow, she can barely see. She shoves her ear against his chest, and listens for his heartbeat.

There is nothing.

---

It is raining, but she can still hear shouts from the courtyard.

“I just want to see her, you flash bastard! I just want to know that she’s okay!”

Rukia tries to make her way to the front entrance, but the hallways of the manor are foreign and seem to reconfigure themselves as soon as she picks a direction. It isn’t right, she tells herself over and over, trying to control the feelings of terror that course through her. I sent him away. I sent him away so this wouldn’t happen.

By the time she gets oriented, Brother is returning inside, his haori dotted with rain. He is wiping down his sword with a cloth that is stained very, very red. “The disturbance is dealt with, Rukia,” he informs her. “You may return to bed.”

---

“I won’t let you take her,” Ichigo snarls, and plunges his sword into Renji’s heart.

The rage melts from Renji’s face, leaving only disbelief behind. His eyes meet Rukia’s briefly, before they roll upward and falls, face-first, onto the street.

Her feet are frozen to the ground, a scream is lodged in her throat, unable to come out. She doesn’t want Ichigo to die, but she doesn’t want this either.

“Unfortunately, that is not up to you,” her brother’s voice echoes in her ears, and suddenly, there is a sword tip protruding from Ichigo’s chest, and an equally surprised expression on his own face.

A strangled sound, not yet a scream, emerges from her throat.

---

Rukia is walking across a bridge. Her thoughts are wrapped up in her own pending execution, when she feels it like a stone plunging into a lake.

Renji is gone.

She grasps frantically for his reiatsu, for a trace, a wisp. The guards are prodding her, yelling at her. Her reiatsu sense is becoming flooded by Ichimaru Gin, walking steadily toward her, smiling his snake-like grin, but she sifts for the tiniest sandgrain, trying to find some evidence that Renji lives.

There is none. Renji is gone.

---

Renji’s body cants forward, he can barely hold himself up, but his grip on her does not falter. Aizen’s shadow falls over them both. Aizen is talking, talking, talking, but his words are just empty buzzing. Rukia is pushing against Renji’s arms, his chest. She’s not sure if she’s trying to get him upright again, or trying to free herself from his grasp.

Just once, she thinks. Just once, let me put my body in front of yours, you bastard, just once.

“Please, Captain Aizen!” she begs, her voice desperate and shrill. “Please, I’ll--”

“No.” Renji’s voice gurgles in his chest. One of his lungs is punctured. “I told you to shut up… Rukia,” he murmurs, and she recalls that he often says “shut up” when he means “I love you.”

Not again, I can’t take any more, please not again.

“I’m not letting go of you,” he curses her, before raising his eyes to Aizen. “I’m not leaving her,” he swears. “You bastard.”

“I see,” Aizen replies. “That’s unfortunate.”

This time, no one intercepts the blow.

---

Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez saunters down the empty Karakura Street. “So, which is it?” he drawls. “Which one of you three is the strongest?”

Renji sidles a step in front of Rukia.

“No,” Rukia murmurs. “No, you weren’t there. You were off getting gored by Yylfordt Granz, you bonehead.”

“Not you,” Grimmjow decides, ramming his hand through Renji’s guts.

It’s not pleasant to watch, but Rukia forces ice through her veins and refuses to look away. It’s not real. Renji lets me fight my own fights.

Renji coughs once. His body hits the ground with a wet smack.

---

The Arrancar, this pulsating mass with Shiba Kaien’s face, levels Nejibana at her, when Rukia feels Renji’s reiatsu storming through the hallways of Las Noches, his footsteps pounding like a heartbeat against her spiritual senses.

“Give it up,” Rukia growls, forcing herself to remember clasping his hand in the desert, making him promise.

“I swear on my sword,” he’d agreed, reluctantly.

“Say it. Say the whole thing.”

He rolls his eyes and sighs dramatically. “I swear on Zabimaru that I won’t die for you, okay, Rukia? Of all the stupid--”

“It’s not! It’s not stupid! I can’t fight all-out if I have to worry about you throwing your stupid body in front of me the minute I start to lose! I’m strong, Renji, you have to have a little fucking faith in me!”

“I do!” he had protested. “Of course I do! I always have! That isn’t why… that’s not… I…”

“It’s not the time for that.” She couldn’t meet his eyes. “But I know why. You don’t have to say it.”

One side of his mouth quirked up in a humorless smile. “Yeah. Well. You got your way. I promised. Do me a favor in return and at least try to stay alive, would you, Kuchiki?”

The promises were real, and Renji kept his. She didn’t then, and she doesn’t now, either.

“Sorry, Renji,” she sighs and throws herself forward onto the trident.

---

Rukia is screaming. She is screaming and screaming and she can’t stop.

Suddenly, there is a loud crack, and As Nodt’s Tatar Foras begins to shatter around them. Daylight leaks through, at last. Rukia has access to her senses once again.

She scrabbles, desperately feeling out with her reiatsu, trying to find Renji. She doesn’t know exactly when it happened that she became perpetually aware of him. Maybe sometime during the Winter War, she spent so much time groping around for him that he became lodged in her head, a half-forgotten song she couldn’t knock loose. Since the Royal Realm, though, he’s been a noisy, omnipresent companion, a rhythmic bassline steadying the tempo of her own soul.

He is halfway across the Seireitei.

He was napping, but he’s waking up now.

Napping.

It wasn’t Renji that came to her rescue at all, but Brother, whom she supposes also has a right to a piece of As Nodt.

Renji is sure to get in another fight sooner rather than later, but at least if he dies, it will be because he wasn’t strong enough, not because she wasn’t. That’s a bit of a weird thought, Rukia realizes, as the paralyzing fear slowly recedes from her body. She doesn’t want Renji to die at all.

The solution is obvious. She and Byakuya will just have to finish this quickly, and then she can go protect that bonehead with her own strength. He will likely chew her out and then she can tell him to shut up.

“Do you still have any fears?” Byakuya asks her, trying to gauge if she has shaken the aftereffects of As Nodt’s spell. “Rukia?”

Rukia adjusts her grip on her sword. “No!” she replies.

#bleach fanfiction #renruki #rukia kuchiki #renji abarai #ahhhh writing this was honestly very cathartic #tybw arc

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sourbat · 4 years ago

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Thrifting

Pairing: Toki Wartooth/Magnus Hammersmith

Words: 3200

Summary: “Shopping,” Part 2. Magnus needs a new belt. Things escalate.

Read the previous chapter here on Ao3 (not required).

Magnus’ belt strap had long since reached the point where the buckle was doing more harm than good, but he didn’t think it was such a big deal, not when he was gaining weight anyways and had plenty of other, unused holes that could handle the additional stress. He figured a few more wears wouldn’t hurt, but when he tried putting it on felt the strap near the center bend a little too much, and begin to tear.

After a series of petty swears and an attempt to find an easy fix, Magnus pulled out his phone, checking his savings for the rest of the month, and decided he’d splurge a little on some new clothes. His boots were worn as it were, leaving his arches aching after a long day, and it was getting colder.

There were a few thrift shops not too far from where he lived. Since wasting money on gas wasn’t an option this late in the month, Magnus opted for the bus. About an hour later, right as Magnus reached his stop and checked his phone to see how much farther he’d have to go on foot, Toki texted him, informing him that he’d arrive earlier than expected. After a series of messages, Magnus let Toki know where he was headed, and left it at that.

Luckily for him the first shop wasn’t a total bust, and he found something decent enough to replace the belt he had dumped. Shoes were a no-go. There were a few warmer looking tops available, but nothing that really spoke to him. Magnus left the store with his single purchase, somewhat thankful he only spent a few dollars and not a cent more, and he waited by the curbside for Toki and his gruesome chariot to arrive.

A chilly breeze swept across the dreary shopping center. Magnus shivered, then pulled out a cigarette to nurse and warm his spirits. Twenty minutes later, Toki arrived, popping out of the door before his servant could open it for him. He raced across the street, meeting Magnus in a tight embrace.

“Hey, I’m heres.” Toki squeezed the older man, feeling a slight shiver vibrate against his chest when his arms wrapped around Magnus’ waist. “You gots clothes?”

“Just a belt,” Magnus replied, patting Toki lightly on the head, making him stir underneath and peer upwards, eyes locked on his face.

“Oh, that’s all?”

“Well, this place doesn’t really have a wide option,” Magnus said, shrugging as Toki peeled himself off from him, opening Magnus up to that uncomfortable chill. He made sure not to let it show, and continued after Toki as he led them back inside of the limo. “I really should’ve gone downtown. They’ve got better thrift stores.”

“Wants to go?” Toki asked as he knelt inwards.

Magnus shook his head. Toki, at a thrift store? Did Toki even know what a thrift shop was?

“Nah,” Magnus answered, grinning slightly as Toki nestled close, arm reaching over and turning up the heat to quell the remaining tremble that still haunted Magnus. “Let’s get you a meal first, and we’ll check out your–”

“Lets go. I likes shopping anyways. Always nice to go outs and buys the toy models and the gifts for my friends.” The way Toki said it made it sound like it was a damn treat. He inched closer to Magnus, nestling close and making that damn pout that tugged at the heartstrings.

“Alright,” Magnus said, unwilling to challenge the two, wide blue eyes that were set upon him, reflecting his image back at him and exposing just how weak they could make a man. “I needed to get some stuff for later anyways–”

“Oh, wowee!” Toki chirped, raising himself up and nuzzling Magnus’ cheek with his nose. “We’s going on a shopping sprees!” Toki turned his head and yelled out to the front of the limo: “Heys, we’s going shoppings now! Takes us somewhere nice!”

“Yes, sir,” came an unknown voice.

Toki returned to Magnus, hand already sliding up his leg as he leaned in for a kiss. As good as it felt, Magnus gently removed Toki off from him.

“You do realize we’re thrifting, right?” Magnus said, voice tensing at the mere thought of spending more than what he currently possessed in his wallet.

“Thriftins,” Toki said. “Ams when you buy clothes at poor peoples or stupid hipsters stores, rights?”

Magnus told himself not to get offended. It wasn’t Toki’s fault he stopped growing up the second he became famous. “For lack of a better definition, sure,” he replied, expecting Toki to say something smart, maybe even toss a nasty line about how he never had to worry about such a thing.

His sarcasm was met with a toothy, nonjudgmental grin.

“Oh, okays,” Toki said, then turned again, and yelled out, “Goes to not so fancy places for shoppings!”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Betters?” Toki asked Magnus, who in turn, sank a little in his seat, letting his legs spread some and embracing the heated air splashing across right when Toki peered up again, waiting for permission to continue where they left off.

The engine roared alive. Toki dropped on top of Magnus right as the limo entered the street, falling on top his legs and giggling at the shock, flipping himself over and bringing his hands up to Magnus, gesturing him to join and rest beside him.

Without giving his answer, Magnus merely stared down, flashing a suggestive grin and letting Toki grab him by the bottom of his shirt and pull him down.

…

It became abundantly clear that what Toki counted as frugal or cheap did not match Magnus’ definition. Magnus didn’t pay much attention to their changing surroundings; how could he, when he was too busy getting reacquainted with Toki after nearly a month of separation? When the limo finally parked, and Magnus stepped out and viewed the massive, layered shopping center full of designer stores and upscale restaurants, his heart sank.

Out of politeness, Magnus held his tongue. Toki wanted nothing more than to lead and with so many distractions surrounding them, Magnus couldn’t bring himself to shut the kid down. He formulated a plan: window shop and politely disregard anything Toki offered up, or convince Toki to focus more on himself, rather than him and whatever he was in search of.

This proved a difficult challenge. Toki stopped at whatever store caught his fancy, yanked Magnus inward, and went through various articles of clothing that he certainly didn’t need, much less Magnus. It wasn’t too annoying at first: the first two stores Toki spent most of his money on things he liked or wanted, but always picking up something and offering it Magnus’ way, asking if he’d consider trying it on, or if he preferred one color over the other. It was easy to suggest a color, only to reject an outfit for something as simple as it being the wrong design, wrong fit, or just not “my thing.” That said, if there was any silver lining, it was Toki’s impeccable taste in clothing. Toki’s first few suggestions were questionable, but by the second store, was pulling things from racks that made Magnus turn, curious to know what special occasion Toki was saving said outfit for.

It wasn’t until the fourth store when Toki started to slow down, and Magnus began to really dread the afternoon. Again, Toki inquired about colors, designs, whether Skwisgaar might like something in silver instead of white, or whether Magnus thought there was a difference between “midnight sonata” and “desert night” as far as black goes. With little else left to do, he ended up picking out various clothing; a nice pair of pants, a ring, a black coat, and tested the fabric and admiring the designs, only to check the tag and be reminded just how out-of-touch Toki was with the real world.

“Whats do you thinks of this?” Toki asked, raising a lovely button down shirt in front of Magnus.

“Uhm.” Magnus eyed the slim fitting top, and imagined what Toki might look like in it, how snug and form-fitting it would be, and smirked. “Real nice, man. For you?”

“No, yous.”

“Oh, well.” Magnus feigned disinterest. By the point, there was no need to glance at the price. He already knew it was well beyond what he could afford, at least if he wanted to eat next week. “Not really my color, dude.”

“You sures?” Toki asked, edging the top a little bit closer in Magnus’ view. “Ams maroon.”

“Yeah,” Magnus said with a bored shrug. As Toki put the top away, Magnus glanced at the remaining portions of the store they hadn’t perused through yet, sighing inwardly at the thought of having to deal with this for another ten minutes. “Y’know,” he said aloud, “I think I’ll look over that way. You go ahead and do your thing.”

Toki beamed at him. “Cool. Oh, takes one of the gears with yous to holds on to your clothes.”

“Sure, whatever,” Magnus said, more than willing to accept some silent no-name shadowing him if it meant escaping this hell of refusing every single article of clothing Toki tossed his way.

He isolated himself in the far reaches of the store, away from Toki’s immediate line of sight, and once he was sure he was safe, groaned. He picked up a pair of faded black jeans, fondled through it until he located the price tag, and took one quick glance before shoving it back with the rest.

Who in their right mind would spend over a hundred dollars on a pair of pre-faded jeans?

“Need any help?” The klokateer asked.

“No,” Magnus growled, uncaring when she huffed a complaint before stepping away from him.

Shoving his hands deep into his pockets, Magnus grumbled a sound, bottom lip curling as his eyes rested on another pair of slick looking, dark gray jeans.

He wouldn’t admit it, but if he had the money, he’d waste it all. As much as he wanted to be jealous of Toki, Magnus knew if he had the wealth to wear it, he’d buy it all up. The fact that all of this meant nothing to Toki, because he was a successful billionaire, and spending eighty on a button down was just a drop in the bucket that represented his overall wealth, was something to be envious of. How could he hate Toki for doing what came natural?

Something poked his back. Magnus turned, spotting Toki standing before him, carrying a few bags. “Hey,” he said. “Finds anything?”

“Just window shopping,” Magnus answered, smiling warmly at Toki.

“Heys, I’ll be rights back,” he said, then raised the small bag up to Magnus. “Cans you look afters?”

Magnus took the bag. “Where are you headed?”

“Back to Manson’s,” Toki replied.

“The one with the coat, right?” Magnus inquired, remembering and idolizing the make and heftiness before immediately recoiling in fright once he realized it was worth two whole paychecks.

“Yeah, forgots something,” Toki answered, then snapped a finger at the remaining klokateer to follow him.

“I’ll be waiting,” Magnus said, gesturing to one of the benches just outside the store.

They parted ways the moment they exited the store, and although it was getting chilly, Magnus settled on the bench, legs spread and consuming as much space as he could while he waited for Toki’s return. By now his feet were starting to ache, and it was getting late enough that he couldn’t ignore the occasional hunger pang for much longer, but when Magnus made a quick glance at the available restaurants, even checked his phone to see what his options were, was dissuaded when he didn’t recognize the names of anything close buy, or saw multiple dollar signs left by reviewers.

Magnus fished out his wallet. There was enough for a decent meal; not anything around here, but something equally fulfilling, if not better in flavor, closer to where he lived.

Maybe he could convince Toki to get a pizza? Toki loved anything topped with extra, melted cheese.

A few minutes passed. Magnus lifted his head to the rolling clouds above, making a note that he’d really need to get his hands on some heavier clothing soon. More time passed, and Magnus closed his legs, brought his arms closer to his chest to collect whatever heat his scrawny form could naturally produce. A frigid wind swept behind him, causing him to shudder and hunch forward, protective of his sensitive scar that would always throb and pang whenever it got too cold.

“You alrights?”

Magnus looked up, comforted when he saw Toki’s concerned stare. “Yeah, just a chill,” he said, and picked himself up, but not before taking the bag he’d been assigned to look after, and offered it to one of the available klokateer. “Hey man,” Magnus added, catching Toki’s arm in his, “I don’t know about you, but I could really use a bite. How’s pizza sound? I’m buying, of course.”

“Sounds greats,” Toki answered. “C’mon, let’s go.”

He’s relieved to hear it. He was also weirdly happy that Toki improved his wardrobe, even if it meant an afternoon of just standing and window shopping. Shit, almost like a real couple.

Magnus remained huddled close to Toki on their way back to the limo, partly to show affection and maybe milk another fun ride back to the pizzeria, and because his front scar still stung, and the one on his back wasn’t faring much better.

The klokateers ran up ahead, one lifting the trunk to store the remaining bags, while another rushed to open the car door for the two of them. Eager to get away from the cold, Magnus slipped inside first, edging his way deeper, only to be met with some filled shopping bags from the various designer stores he and Toki visited before. He picks them up, throwing them to the other side of the limo so Toki can sit beside him.

“Your stooges left some bags in there,” Magnus mentioned, reaching for the heater in anticipation.

“Ams supposed to be there,” Toki calmly stated, dropping the large shopping bag between his legs, then waited for the door to shut before tacking on, “They ams your clothes.”

Magnus froze. “What?” he asked, hoping he misheard Toki.

“Your clothes,” Toki repeated, dropping the high pitch for his lower, more natural voice. Hearing it sent a warm chill Magnus spine. “Everythings you looks at for a long times when we went shoppins.”

Magnus glanced at the cluttered shopping bags he’d been so quick to throw, disregarded because as far as he knew, they were for Murderface or Nathan, or some other unlucky, unworthy fool that Toki insisted on befriending and caring for. The engine started, and once the limo started to move, one of the stiffer bags toppled over, and Magnus could see the outlines of something dark resting within.

Magnus started shaking his head. Keeping a straight face, he started: “Toki, I–”

“Kept my mouth shut so you wouldn’ts come up with more excuses,” Toki interrupted, unwavering and ignoring the threatening look starting to surface across Magnus’ already strained expression.

Toki picked up the large bag he had resting between his legs and offered it to Magnus, who wanted nothing more than to throw it out the window, but accepted because Toki kept staring and refused to look away from him. Magnus saw the brand name spread on the shopping bag, and already had a feeling he knew what was inside, but Toki wouldn’t let him escape, so with a trembling hand he reached in and pulled out the black coat he’d secretly been vying for, now his.

Magnus lifted the rest of the coat, letting the bag slip as he pulled it up, letting it all topple over and rest on his stiff, shivering knees. He tried furrowing his brows, tried getting his lips to turn southward, but all he managed was a staggered inhale.

There was an insurmountable desire to flee the scene.

Besides him, Toki continued: “You lookst really colds when I picked you ups. And you were really colds when I founds you at the bench, so you cant says no to Toki.”

How dare Toki make it sound so easy, like buying clothes for someone who clearly didn’t deserve it was just another everyday occurrence. Like it wasn’t a big deal.

It wasn’t a big deal, Magnus thought, and tried sticking to the words, but when he tried tearing his eyes from the coat to try and force a smile on his face, tell Toki “thank you,” or just look him in the eyes like a goddamn man, he couldn’t.

Tell him this is the nicest thing anyone has done, he thought, but couldn’t.

Tell him a joke, but couldn’t think of anything to say.

Tell him you don’t deserve this, but already knew Toki would try and stop him.

Tell him something.

Throat tightening, Magnus blinked, and brought a hand to cover his mouth.

There was something he desperately wanted to say, but couldn’t. He could feel those three terrifying words swirling in his chest, perfectly formulated and merely waiting for his permission to leave, fill the air and Toki’s heart with promises of a brighter future.

The back of his right eye burned, and when Magnus blinked, hoping that he could obscure that overwhelming sensation that was so close to choking him, felt something wet roll down his left cheek, catching him off guard and triggering a series of actions Magnus couldn’t control. He hunched forward, taking the coat with him, and covered the rest of his face with it and his second hand. He shut his eyes, holding his breath for as long as he could to hide away the tears, the ugly face he was forming as he fought to control himself.

“Needs a minutes?” he heard Toki ask, voice transitioning to its usual pitch, and lacking that strength from before. It was softer, gentler. Hurt, but ultimately accepting of what was happening.

It was Toki back to being Toki.

Face still buried in the coat, Magnus managed a short nod. “Mhmm.”

“Okays.” Toki hand patted the cushion underneath. Magnus heard each tap, finding the closeness of the sounds intimidating, but accepting it as a reminder that Toki wanted to touch him, comfort him, but wouldn’t. Not like this. “You has one minute, but after that, I can hugs you and makes you put on the coat, rights?”

“Mhmm.”

“Not gonna says anything means about how you looks, okay?” Toki gently warned, hovering a little close to ensure the older man could hear him over the occasional sniffling and airy breath.

Magnus opened his eyes. He stared through the thin gaps between his fingers, vision in both yes almost equally blurred from the pressure and tears he couldn’t hold back. “Mhmm.”

“Magnus?” Toki’s voice hung over him like a guillotine, ready to sever whatever limited connection and control he had over himself. “I loves you.”

Magnus exhaled, and every thought and feeling under the damn sun threatened to pour out, but somehow Magnus held it all in, just long enough to drop everything and grab Toki, bury his face in the man’s stomach and begin counting down how much longer he had to grow a spine and say what was on his mind.

#fanfic #toki wartooth #magnus hammersmith #fanfiction #metalocalypse #unbeta'd #you really dont need to read part 1 #only relation is shopping #anyways enjoy

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ghstandpucks · 4 years ago

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Misguided Ghost Ch.5

A.N.: Thanks for the support everyone! Let me know if you are enjoying the story :)

Doin’ Time

The whole table was laughing at a story Billy was telling. We had been at the bar for about 4 hours now, just sharing stories and hanging out. It was nice to feel like I had made some friends. I was nursing my third beer, trying not to show how much I was actually feeling it. “So Y/N, how are you feeling about being apart of the crew?” Billy asked.

“Good!” I said a little too quickly, causing the table to snicker. Zak reached over and grabbed my beer. I looked at him shocked and took it back. “Excuse you, I am fine!” Zak chuckled as I turned back to Billy and the group. “I mean, I’ve only been around for like two days, but beside this one,” I motioned to Zak with my thumb, “the guys have been nice and welcoming and I’m loving looking at all the history of the places you guys are considering investigating,” I finished with a smile. They were all either nodding or laughing at what I said, even Zak.

“We are happy to have you Y/N. And with that being said, I think it’s time to head home,” Nick said while Veronique grabbed her purse. Everyone decided it was time to head out and home, considering it was almost midnight. I walked with Aaron and Zak toward the front.

“You didn’t drive, did you Y/N?” Aaron asked. I shook my head no.

“I can take you home. I’m already driving Aaron,” Zak offered.

“It’s ok. I can call an uber. I don’t want to make you go out of your way,” I replied, taking my phone out of my purse and opening the uber app.

“No, seriously it’s fine. I don’t mind,” Zak insisted. I looked up at him and he gave me a soft smile. I nodded my head and smiled back, thanking him.

“Let’s go little one,” Aaron wrapped his arm around my shoulder as we followed Zak to his Jeep. I giggled and wrapped my arm around his waist. I insisted that I sat in the back since I was smaller, although Aaron offered the front to me. Once we were in and settled, I gave Zak my address and he started to drive. As we were driving, Lana Del Rey’s remake of Doin’ Time came on the radio, and being that I was in a tipsy state of mind, I decided to sing out loud. Now I am in no way a singer, but I didn’t think I sounded that bad, until Zak turned the radio station.

“Hey, turn it back!” I yelled from the back seat as Aaron was getting his phone out and laughing. Zak chuckled and turned the station back on. I realized at this point Aaron was recording and sang louder, looking directly at his phone. “Evil, I've come to tell you that she's evil, most definitely. Evil, ornery, scandalous and evil, most definitely.” I was dancing in my seat. Aaron turned his phone back to himself.

“I’m pretty sure she is the farthest thing from evil,” he chuckled, making Zak laugh too. I was having too much fun with the song that once it was over, I saw a notification from Instagram on my phone. Aaron had tagged me in his story.

“Wait Aaron you didn’t!” I screeched, opening it and watching myself sing off key and wiggle around in the seat.

“Oh I did!” He replied proudly. Zak laughed and I made a mental note to actually watch how much I drank next time. I wasn’t drunk, but definitely had the liquid courage to make an idiot out of myself. I hid my face in my hands, laughing and muttering ‘oh my God, what have I done!’

“Don’t worry Y/N, it was cute,” Zak winked through the mirror at me. I saw Aaron raise an eyebrow at him, and then turn back to me.

“We’ll do an Aaron’s vlog soon and I’ll introduce you as a team member,” he said, as I noticed we turned into my complex.

“Ok, sounds good,” I was still blushing at Zak’s comment. We pulled up to my apartment and I hopped out of the car. “Thank you Zak, I appreciate the ride! Have a good night you guys!” I shut the door as they said good night as well, Zak waiting for me to actually get into my place before taking off. I thought it was sweet that he wanted to make sure I was safe. I jumped in the shower and drank a glass of water, feeling the buzz slowly leave me. I crawled under my covers in bed and fell asleep, looking forward to seeing the guys on Monday and hoping that Zak meant what he said about calling it truce.

~ ~ ~

Monday morning came quicker than expected. I spent the rest of my weekend putting the final touches on my apartment and going grocery shopping. I even went to a yoga class on Sunday, signing up for a membership at the studio. Aaron had sent me a text with screen shots of messages from the insta-story post. A lot of speculation on who I was and if I was dating either of them. That made me laugh.

Today was a little chilly in Vegas, so I opted for wearing a purple dress with grey tights and a cream cardigan. Threw on my brown boots and took off to work. I went to my office and started up my laptop when Aaron burst in. “Aaron’s vlog! To answer all your questions about who that girl was in my insta-story on Friday, it was our new GAC historian, Y/N!” he said then turned his phone toward me. I sat there shocked for a second, then giggled and waved. ‘Say something’ Aaron mouthed.

“Sorry for my terrible singing guys! Hopefully my research makes up for it!” I gave a thumbs up and Aaron stopped recording.

“Your singing wasn’t terrible,” he stated. I rolled my eyes.

“You don’t have to be nice,” I smiled at him.

“Well someone enjoyed it,” he wiggled his eyebrows. I immediately looked at Zak’s office. Thankfully he was on the phone and not paying attention. Looking back at Aaron I blushed at his grin.

“Go away,” I shooed him out of my office as he let out a chuckle. The rest of the day was pretty uneventful for the most part. I was working on a site with a particularly gruesome past when Zak walked into my office, face in his phone. He sat down in the chair in front of my desk as I stared at him expectantly. “Can I help you?” I asked.

“No,” he muttered, still texting. I decided to ignore him and go back to my work. A few seconds later he spoke up. “This office feels calmer than it did before you got here.” I looked up at him to find him staring at me, brows scrunched up.

“Spearmint and eucalyptus air freshener,” I pointed toward the wall outlet where my diffuser was. I love Aromatherapy from Bath and Body Works. Zak nodded and started looking around my space from his chair. “Is everything alight?” I asked him after about five more minutes of us sitting in silence. Zak smiled softly at me.

“Sorry, am I bothering you?”

“No. I just don’t know why you’re in here,” I smiled back.

“I was coming to tell you about our travel arrangements for our investigation this week. I was just getting the last details when I came in,” he said. I nodded, urging him to continue. “Your office just has a calming vibe. Sorry I spaced out.”

“It’s fine. So what’s up with the travel plans?” I asked. Zak let me know that we would be driving to Utah, where we were going was only about 4 hours away. They would pick me up from my house at 9am on Wednesday, Thursday we would have our walk through and conduct interviews, and then the lockdown was set for Friday. We would come back Sunday seeing as they would probably be drained to drive back Saturday.

“Sounds great! I’m excited!” I clapped my hands together, making Zak grin at me.

“Hopefully you’re still saying that when you’re being locked in with us.” I rolled my eyes.

“As I said during my interview, I won’t promise that I won’t scream if something happens, but I should be just fine,” I laughed his comment off. To be honest, I was a bit nervous. Excited because I loved to travel, but nervous about the hauntings.

Zak stayed in my office for a while, working off of his phone. I would tell him something about what I was looking up every so often and he always looked intrigued. By the end of the day he had his laptop sitting on my desk, sending emails. He claimed the smell of my room was keeping him. I told him he could take it to his office if he liked it that much, but he shook his head and made himself comfortable on the other side of my desk. I looked over my laptop at him before I closed it, and noticed his shoulders seemed more relaxed and he didn’t seem as tense. He had also been nice to me all day. I know we made a truce, but I wasn’t really expecting this much progress all at one time. I made a quick order of another air diffuser to put in his office, and packed up my stuff. I walked out with the guys as we left to go home for the evening, noticing that Zak stayed right by me. I shrugged it off, maybe he was just getting used to me. When I said goodbye to Aaron though, he raised his eyebrow, then sent me a wink. I shook my head and shrugged. Maybe Zak and I could be the best of friends after all. I mean, he was just being nice. Right?

#Ghost Adventures #ghost adventures imagine #zak bagans #zak bagans imagine #gac #ghost adventures x reader #zak bagans x reader

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elizabeethan · 4 years ago

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Find Strength in Pain, Find Strength in Me 2/3

After defeating the wraith, Emma Swan is dragged through the portal they sent it through and suddenly finds herself in the land in which she should have grown up. Lost, overwhelmed, and desperate to get home to her son, she accepts help from the gruesome pirate Captain Hook— and his accomplice.

A Season 2 AU in which Emma ends up the the Enchanted Forest alone, and she and Hook (try to) work together to get to the Land Without Magic.

Hi! here is part 2! thank you to @the-darkdragonfly for being an incredible beta and to @donteattheappleshook for forcing me to write being instrumental in the creation of this fic.

Rated T (for now) (I have no idea if that’ll change) (bit fat maybe)

~4800 words

Read on Ao3

Read my other stuff

Tagging: @courtorderedcake @kmomof4 @stahlop @klynn-stormz @laschatzi @emelizabeth88 @lfh1226-linda @kday426 @elisethewritingbeast @timeless-love-story @captain-emmajones @gingerpolyglot @ebcaver @ilovemesomekillianjones @teamhook @superchocovian @itsfabianadocarmo @tiganasummertree @gingerchangeling @jrob64 @onceratheart18 @xhookswenchx @winterbaby89 @swampmedusa @ultraluckycatnd @dancingnancyy @love-with-you-i-have-everything @shireness-says @snowbellewells @hollyethecurious @ouatpost @daxx04 @the-darkdragonfly @donteattheappleshook @therooksshiningknight @eeteeaytay

Despite her circumstances, Emma does not feel like a prisoner of fearsome pirate Captain Hook. In fact, she’s been made to feel quite comfortable in his quarters, and after he was sure that their interests aligned and that they were useful to one another, he told her she could have free reign of the ship to do as she pleased until they made landfall.

“No one on this vessel will harm you, love,” he assured her when she became bored of exploring his quarters, and she believed him immediately.

Maybe she was bothering him as he peered over his logs and maps and she tinkered with the exotic items he’s collected— perhaps that’s why he encouraged her to explore. Either way, she didn’t have to be told twice, and found out that the men aboard were surprisingly pleasant as well. Mr. Smee was a shy and timid man, but friendly and caring all the same. The rest of the crew wore snarls when they looked at her, but broke down easily the moment she began casual conversation with them.

Maybe it’s because they know how instrumental she is in their Captain getting his revenge.

As she leans against the rail of the upper deck after a day of learning about ships and pirating, she watches as the sun sets behind them, painting the sky an intoxicating shade of pink that fades into purple and black. Hook is at the wheel, navigating through the ocean that almost claimed her, and despite her situation, she feels safe. If she had to be dragged from the sea and rescued by pirates, she supposes she lucked out with the Jolly Roger.

“Quite a sight, isn’t it, love?” he asks her, and she turns to face him so she can respond.

“It’s beautiful.”

“Never been aboard a ship before, I take it?” he calls from the wheel, giving her a smirk at the look of wonderment on her face.

“Nope, never had much of a need to,” she responds as casually as she can.

“Or an opportunity?”

She laughs, a bit awkwardly, and says, “I guess not. It’s not something I've really thought about.”

“I see,” he concedes when she gets closer to him, leaning against the rail just across from the wheel he commands. “So, tell me about your boy.”

She sighs wistfully and looks up to the sky, wondering what he could be up to, what he’s thinking, if he’s worried about her. “His name is Henry. He’s almost eleven, but he acts like he’s 32. Super smart, very passionate about the things and people he cares about.”

“Sounds like you,” he chuckles.

“How would you know?” she asks with incredulity.

“You're an open book. And you did hold a knife to my throat yesterday. I can only attribute that to your passion and assume that you want to get home quite badly.”

“Of course I do,” she rolls her eyes, stepping closer to him until she’s leaning against the helm and glaring at him. “I’m his mother,” she insists.

He nods and says, “of course. But I sense that there’s more to the story.”

Caught off guard, she answers, “well, just… he’s been through a lot. Especially in the past year.”

“I see. And you don’t wish to contribute to his turmoil.” She shrugs, looking away from his gaze. “You don’t wish to contribute... further?”

Her breathing falters at his accuracy and she says, “let’s just say I wasn’t always there for him in the way I should’ve been. He deserves better and I need to get home to make sure I can give him that.”

He nods thoughtfully, pursing his lips and looking ahead towards the horizon again, as if anything before them has changed in the last day and a half. “I understand, love.” It’s as if he shakes himself out of a trance when he says, “try your hand at the wheel?”

She raises her brows and gives him a disbelieving look. “After I just told you I’ve never even been on a ship?”

“It’s not difficult to learn,” he tells her as he lifts his hand towards her, gently guiding her behind the wheel. “Besides, the Jolly is enchanted. You can’t hurt her.”

She snorts softly, shaking her head as he leads her and places her hand upon a handle, letting his fingers linger on the top of her hand for a moment too long. “How do you manage to get your ship enchanted?” she asks amorously once his fingers leave her skin, taking with them a feeling of gentle warmth.

“You know the right enchantress,” he flirts back, his mouth just a bit too close to her ear. She can almost feel his voice rumbling through his chest as it presses to her back, keeping her warm against the whipping winds of the sea. “There,” he says softly. “You're sailing.”

She laughs lightly, unaware of how exciting she actually found this until he put it to words. Seriously, she’s captaining a pirate ship! Henry is gonna be so excited when she tells him this story. “I guess I am,” she says happily.

“I think she likes you,” he says in a way that she knows isn’t a joke, despite how ridiculous it sounds.

“Why, because she isn’t sinking?”

“Aye, she doesn’t always take kindly to strangers.”

“And you let me do this?!”

He laughs, but doesn’t respond with words, as if he knows he’s been caught. “I had a feeling.”

They’re quiet for a moment, and while he’d dropped her hand and is letting her steer on her own, she notes that he doesn't back up and keeps her back pressed gently to him. “We’re going to get you home to him, love,” he murmurs into her ear, so softly that she can barely hear him over the sound of the wind. “I know-- well, I would wager that you have some experience with abandonment and… Well, I’m not going to let your boy go through that.”

She draws her brows together in thought, considering how perceptive he is, how well he seems to know her after such a short time. She turns around to face him, seeing just how close he truly is to her, and cocks her head. He reaches behind her to take control of the wheel, bringing himself even closer. “How do you know?” she asks.

His smile is small, sad. “I’m no stranger to a lost soul.”

“Are you accusing me of being a lost soul?” she asks in a tone as soft as his own.

“Perhaps I'm simply trying to tell you that I understand.”

With a hum, she says, “what are you saying, Captain? Are we kindred spirits?”

He cracks a brilliant smile, his eyes crinkling and glimmering in the moonlight, shining like the stars above them. “Aye, I suppose we are.”

She’s so calm with him. It feels wrong to let herself relax into his hold, to let herself enjoy the feeling of his chest vibrating against hers as he speaks. She should be focusing on getting home, on getting to Henry and protecting him from Regina. Not fantasizing about a pirate she thought was fictional.

But then he leans closer to her, his hook on the wheel and his hand reaching up to cup her cheek, and she doesn't even try to stop herself from pressing onto her toes and capturing his lips in a slow yet chaste kiss. He doesn’t hesitate to kiss her back, and she feels warmth flitting through her and settling in the deepest depths of her center until he’s tangling his fingers in her hair and getting his rings caught in the strands.

She breathes out a soft giggle at the sharp tug, pulling from him and attempting to detangle herself from him. “Apologies, my darling,” he practically purrs against her mouth.

“It’s okay,” she whispers, planting her forehead against his and trying to catch her breath. They had only kissed for a second, but their close proximity and the raw, ardent nature of his observations weigh heavily between them and she feels something.

He kisses her lips again, one, twice, three times, before saying, “time for dinner.”

She groans and rolls her eyes. “Not more of that tack shit is it?”

He laughs heartily and says, “tonight you’ll get some more jerked meat, darling. Perhaps some rum to chase it down.”

“I’d love some rum.”

With a smirk, he steps back slightly and reaches his hand into his coat, taking out a flask and passing it to her, but not before removing the cork with his teeth and popping it onto the ground. She takes it happily from him, smirking back and stuffing the feeling of warmth that traces through her as deeply as she can.

~~~~

The ship is enchanted in several ways, she realizes. Hook told her that it’s impossible to damage her, but she’s discovered other quirks as well. For one, it’s never cold. Not only is his cabin toasty warm, as if it’s well insulated, but the rest of the ship is comfortable as well. For another, although it rained last night and the deck should have been slick, it was completely dry. And now, music is playing, and she can’t for the life of her find the source.

The wind is whipping but the lanterns stay lit, maybe another side effect of the enchantment, and the crew lounges happily on the deck, enjoying their rum and their opportunity to relax. Hook leans against the ladder that leads to the helm, and she can’t help but stare through her lashes at his confident posture as he laughs at the crewmen dancing wildly.

They shout boisterously as a slower, more romantic song replaces the shanties, laughing and hollering at their Captain until he stands and holds up his hands in defeat, shaking his head and smiling. She isn’t sure what they’re all talking about, but she’s excited to see him do what he seems so adamant to avoid.

That is, until he comes up to her and holds out his hand, offering her a small, shy smile in replacement of the smirk she was expecting. “Dance with me, Swan?”

“Dance with you?” she asks in outrage. “I can’t dance!”

“Aye, another thing you haven’t had the opportunity to learn, I’m sure, but I happen to be a brilliant teacher.”

“You’re ridiculous,” she accuses, although she can’t deny the grin splitting her face that matches his. “Are you saying you know how to dance to this?”

He takes her hand with a salacious smirk and practically drags her to the middle of the deck, placing his own on her hip. “It’s called a waltz,” he tells her, “and there’s only one rule.” She feels a heat radiating off of herself that’s different from anything she’s felt before, as if a light is glowing from her skin and hair as he spins her. “Pick a partner who knows what they’re doing.”

She’s breathless, and every fear and worry she's had since she went through that damn portal has evaporated out of her pores and into the salty sea air. He holds her closer, likely forgoing the proper form they were practicing, and she melts into him.

“You’re glowing, darling,” he murmurs, his lips grazing against her ear lobe in a way that makes her shiver. She looks down at her hands and sees the soft golden glow he must be referring to and gasps, noting it fading. “Relax, love, it’s very fitting. I’m assuming this hasn’t ever happened in the Land Without Magic.”

“No,” she says thoughtfully. “It wouldn’t have worked anyway until after—” She cuts herself off, careful not to reveal the truth; that Gold brought magic back to Storybrooke after the curse broke. Then she stops to think… is this magic?

“After what?” he interrupts her thoughts.

She clears her throat. “Uh, after I broke the curse.”

“The one the Queen cast? You broke it?” he asks, suddenly serious rather than warm and flirtatious. She wonders how he would’ve known about that, but figures he must’ve been a child when it was originally cast; maybe he remembers.

“Yeah.” She feels guilty lying to him. Maybe she shouldn’t. Maybe she should just continue to savor the feeling of his hand running along her back as he pulls her closer. As much as she’s been enjoying their time together, she reminds herself that she needs him to get home, and she’ll need to do whatever it takes for their plan to take fruition.

~~~~

The next afternoon, Emma lounges in the Captain’s bed and reads one of the many diaries recounting his adventures. After they danced the night away, they came back to his room and she expressed interest in hearing about his journeys between kisses and soft touches. He stood and retrieved a leather bound book, handing it to her and telling her that she’s always welcome to his stories, and that he’ll happily tell her whatever she wants to know. She read until she fell asleep, with him sleeping soundly on the floor beside her, protectively positioned between her and the door.

She knows she’s behaving ridiculously. She can’t possibly let whatever is going on between them continue once they make landfall. But it isn’t like she can accomplish anything while they’re out at sea, so she lets herself indulge in his soft lips and deep eyes and profound declarations in the meantime, making a promise to herself to let him go once they land.

She hears a commotion above deck and starts a bit, putting the book down on the bed and standing. Can pirates be attacked by other pirates? Certainly that’s a thing. She straightens the black linen shirt as she stands, the one Hook let her borrow while her clothes are being washed, tucking it more neatly into her jeans, and makes her way towards the door, pressing her ear to the wood and listening closely for trouble. She hears rustling and shouting, and her heart begins to race. It pounds harder in her chest when she hears a distinct set of footsteps making its way towards the door she’s pressed to.

When she hears the footsteps grow too close for comfort, she turns and presses her back to the door in hopes of blocking out an intruder. They try to push it open and grunt in surprise when it only moves a bit, and she plants her feet more firmly into the floor. Her panic subsides, though, when she hears a cocky chuckle. “Swan?” he calls through the door. “Are you playing hard to get?”

She breathes a sigh of relief when she hears his voice, moving from the door and carefully opening it just a crack to peek her head out. “What’s going on?”

He smirks, of course, and says, “We’re docking, love. What's the matter?”

“I thought… I dont know, I thought something was wrong.”

He shakes his head and squeezes by her to enter the room, shutting the door behind him and touching her arm gently. “Nothing’s wrong, darling. All is going to plan.” She doesn't miss the way his eyes trail down her body, slowly and obviously taking in the sight of her.

“Stop looking at me like that,” she insists, pulling the shirt closed some more and hugging her body with her arms.

“I’m simply admiring the way my shirt fits you, Swan,” he smirks. “You wear it much better than I do.”

“Whatever,” she rolls her eyes. “What’s the plan?”

He chuckles and moves towards the table, stopping to pick up the book she was reading and putting it away. “The crew is docking us now, and then we’ll go to find the compass and then meet up with our colleague. Shouldn't be long before you're home.”

She nods, taking a calming breath at the anticipation of finally getting home. He’s told her the plan: they need to find a compass from a giant’s lair, but to do that, they first need to climb a beanstalk. She isn't sure what that will entail, and she isn't really excited to find out, but she’ll do what she has to to get back to her son.

Her shirt hasn’t dried yet. Hook packs it in his satchel so that she doesn’t leave it behind, but now she’s stuck wearing his flowy blouse with her jacket over top of it. He keeps checking her out, and she isn't sure how she feels about it. She ignores the blush and the heat that floods through her.

The port they landed at is fairly run down and not very heavily populated, which she thinks is a good thing-- she would stick out like a sore thumb in her jeans and leather jacket, but she sure as hell isn't hiking through a forest in one of those damn dresses.

They trek for hours, Hook filling the time with more stories that leave her with a sense of wanderlust. She grew up an orphan, traveling from foster home to foster home, and she always longed for a place to settle down. She’s never found herself wishing to travel the world, because she never had a home to come back to, but hearing his stories change things for her.

He’s an incredible storyteller. Sometimes it’s clear that he embellishes some events to make them more dramatic, but everything he tells her is the truth despite the fact that it sounds so unbelievable. It seems he’s spent years pillaging and plundering, and while she certainly can't condone all of his actions, it also seems like he’s spent much of his time enjoying the different realms he’s explored. He tells her so many stories that she isn't sure how he could fit all of these adventures into one lifetime.

“Can I ask you something?” she finally asks when she can make sense of his life no longer.

“Perhaps,” he smirks.

She carries on despite his playfulness. “How old are you?”

“Physically? Or literally?”

She snorts, bumping her shoulder against his at his joke, but falters when she realizes he isn't joking. She stares up at him, pausing her steps for a moment, and says, “uh, literally? I guess?”

“Around 250.”

“What?” she chokes.

He hums. “Aye, I’ve recently counted and I believe I’ve been on this plane for about 250 years.”

She’s speechless, blinking at him but unable to make her voice work. Shaking her head, she asks, “how?”

“Well, after my run in with the Dark One, I spent some time in Neverland. You see, the Dark One is immortal, so I needed to stay alive long enough to find a way to get my revenge. Once I found it, I came back for a few years, and then the most recent curse essentially paused time, so I didn't age again. So, I estimate around 250 years.”

With her mouth still agape, she says, “I thought you were, like… 30.”

“Why thank you,” he smirks. “Physically, I’m around 36, I believe, so I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“So when the curse was cast, you were… the same age you are now?”

“Is that not how it worked in the Land Without Magic? I was under the impression that time would stand still.”

She narrows her eyes, wondering how he heard such details about the curse, and managed to avoid it, but chalking it up to his piracy. “No, that’s how it worked.”

“And how old are you, then?”

“28,” she says without thinking, though perhaps she should have kept that a secret if she doesn’t want him to know that she’s the Savior. She can see the gears in his head turning, although he says nothing else and seeks no further clarification.

They spend the remainder of the trip talking about Neverland, which is apparently much different from how Barrie described. He tells her of the Lost Boys and how terrifying they were, even to a fearsome and relentless crew of pirates. While they walk, they encounter some branches in the path and he cuts them down, and she notices a tattoo on his inner forearm that catches her attention.

“Who’s Milah?” she asks, her voice just loud enough to be heard over the sounds of the forest.

He stills but doesnt turn back towards her when he asks, “pardon?”

“Milah, on the tattoo?”

His shoulders fall and he clears his throat. “Someone from long ago.”

“Where is she?”

“She’s gone.” His tone is dismissive. Pained.

She thinks of the first day, once she was awake, when she explored his cabin in secret before she trusted him and found a sketch of a stunning woman with thick, curly hair and soft, kind eyes. “Gold,” she says as the pieces fall into place, and he turns to face her. “Rumplestiltskin. He took more than your hand from you, didn’t he?” she asks softly. “That’s why you want to kill him.”

She hasn’t seen him look this broken in the few days she’s known him. The timeline starts to put itself together in her mind and she realizes he’s spent almost 220 years lying in wait to avenge this woman’s death. “You're quite perceptive,” he finally says.

The guilt is eating away at her again. How can she go on with him, convinced he has a chance to kill the Dark One, when she knows how hurt he is? What kind of a person is she becoming?

One who will do anything for her son, she reminds herself.

They’re silent for the rest of the trek.

~~~~

She nearly slipped off the damn beanstalk. She wasn’t listening to him, his cocky attitude back in full force and irritating the hell out of her, so she grabbed a loose branch and it snapped. She plummeted, thought for certain she was going to die, until it stopped suddenly and he had his hook in the collar of her jacket.

“You should listen to your Captain,” he tells her, and she rolls her eyes, but internally she knows he’s right. He pulls her up close to him, pressing her front against the beanstalk and his body to her back. “Alright?” he asks, his lips brushing her ear.

“I’m fine,” she responds, and she takes a shaky breath.

“Almost to the top, love,” he assures her, breaking away once she feels her shakiness subsiding. “Try that one,” he suggests, gesturing for a different handhold.

When they reach the top, he pulls out his flask and she scoffs at his need for a drink, but then realizes she could use some herself. Only he isn’t using it for a drink, he’s taking her hand in his and saying, “let me help.”

“What are you--” she starts, and then he’s pouring the rum over a cut on her hand and she’s shouting at the sting. “What the hell!”

“A bloody waste, I know. But I'll not have you losing a hand to infection.”

“Hook,” she starts, but he cuts her off.

“Haven't you learned to listen to your Captain, love?”

She gives him an incredulous look, but when he raises his brows in quick succession, she can't help but to grin at him and roll her eyes. She’s about to say something snarky and brush him off, but then he’s wrapping her cut hand in a scarf and biting down on it so he can tighten it one-handed, not breaking eye contact with her. “Fuck,” she breathes at the sight, and then blushes fiercely.

He smirks and chuckles deeply, leaning in close to her and stealing a quick kiss before he places his hook on the small of her back and leads her to the castle's entrance.

“The last of the giants died ages ago, so we should be safe, save for any other intruders. All we have to do is find the compass and we’re homeward bound.”

She finds it difficult to admit to herself how much fun she has as they dig through the treasure room, searching for the compass and joking around with each other as they do. Hook pilfers a few pieces of gold, but she can’t exactly blame him; he is a pirate, after all. He finds a small broach, a golden rose, and presents it to her with flair and grandeur, bowing deeply as he holds it out to her and kissing her hand when she accepts it. “You're ridiculous,” she accuses through a laugh.

They finally find the compass after what feels like hours, but the time passes painlessly. He helps her up onto the platform it sits on, humming amorously when her ass comes into his view, and she kicks his shoulder lightly with a laugh.

It’s as they’re wandering through the castle, slowly making their way back towards the beanstalk, when he says, “I must say, Swan, I’m looking forward to seeing where you spent the last 28 years,” and she feels that guilt bubbling up again. He isn’t excited to get to Storybrooke to kill Gold, he’s looking forward to seeing where she’s from. It makes her think of why he agreed to help her in the first place. It makes her think of his lost love, of Milah, and she feels as if she’s taking away his chance of avenging her.

“Hook,” she says hesitantly before they leave the treasure room. “There's something you need to know.”

“What’s that, love?” he asks gently, as if she can do no wrong, and the guilt is flooding her now.

She swallows thickly and takes a breath before admitting, “I know that you want to come with me to Storybrooke to kill Gold because you think there's no magic there, but… that isn't true.”

He stills, turning to face her fully and drawing his brows close together pensively, angrily. “There’s magic? In the Land Without Magic?”

She nods nervously. “After the curse broke, he brought magic back.”

He scoffs, shaking his head and turning to pace in agitation. “Damn you, Regina,” he says under his breath. “And you knew, all this time?”

Her ears practically perk up, her heart starting to race again. “Did you say Regina?”

“Aye,” he practically spits. “The witch who said there would be no magic. Bloody charlatan.”

“What do you mean?” she asks, horrified to hear him talking about someone he shouldn't even know.

“I mean I was promised a land without magic in which to slay the bloody crocodile, and here you are telling me that isn’t the case. How am I meant to get my revenge now? Cora should've seen this coming. She bloody well knows her better than most.”

“Who the hell is Cora?” she asks firmly, backing away from him. “I thought that was the daughter of the lady you're working with?”

He runs his hand along his face and shakes his head. “I said Cora is the woman we’re working with. She’s looking for her daughter in your Storybrooke. Regina.”

She feels her face going white, her blood running cold and her eyes bugging out of her head. “Cora is… Regina’s mother? You know Regina?”

“Aye, bloody fraud has already betrayed me once,” he huffs, obviously still irritated. “I’m sorry, love, I don't mean to take out my frustrations on you, I just-- what are you doing?”

He notices her take the small dagger from the sheath he gave her earlier, pointing it at him and she holds the compass firmly in her other hand. “Don’t come any closer.”

“Swan? What are you doing?” She reaches behind her to tuck the compass in her back pocket; her sheriff’s pistol may have been damaged beyond repair by the ocean waves, but the cuffs are still fully functional. She takes in her surroundings quickly and then rushes to him, locking his wrist to the cage beside him without thinking her actions through and backing away. “What are you doing?!”

“Hook, I…” she sighs. “I can’t--”

“Emma, look at me,” he insists. “Have I told you a lie?”

“You didn't tell me the truth; you’re working with Regina’s mother!”

“How was I to know that was a problem for you?! I told you who we’re working with.”

“Not really! Regina is dangerous, she wants to take Henry away from me! Do you know how bad it would be if her mother was there to help her?!”

“I will help you, Emma. You won't have to go through this alone; you won't abandon Henry like you were abandoned. Let me go and we can figure this out.”

“If Regina wanted me dead, Cora probably does too.”

“Wanted you dead?” he murmurs in thought. He cocks his head, confused, and ponders her claim. “Who are you?”

She shakes her head. “I can’t take the chance that I’m wrong about you.”

“Swan,” he calls after her as she turns around. “Swan!” She feels her eyes burning as she goes towards the beanstalk, but doesn’t allow the tears to fall.

~~~~

#find strength in pain #cs ff #captain swan fanfic #ouat ff #once upon a time fanfic

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dusk-realm · 5 years ago

Text

Chrysanthemum [Chapter 11: The First Incident]

Tagging: @featurelengthfics @thedungeonsbat @severussnapesupporter @southsiderepresent @pan-lokistan @gbatesx @a-slytherin-sin @wangmangagavroche @theblackdeath87

Visit my masterlist here.

Before someone comes and calls me out: yes, we are inserting ourselves into the story. Yes, I’ve taken literal chunks of the original book and pasted them or paraphrased them in order to merge them with my own writing. No, I’m not intending to plagiarize anything or pretend that the enterity of the text is mine when it clearly isn’t. And yes, you will see more of this in the future as well.

A/N: the app keeps messing up the draft, so if you see many errors in terms of format, spacing, etc, I sincerely apologise, but I couldn’t fix it.

──────────────────

October brought to Hogwarts chill breezes and an air of coziness with it. The disempowered sunlight gave place to the soft lighting of candles and torches, which produced the deepest, darkest shades in the intricate furrows and decorations of the castle, creating new contours and strange shapes in the statues and carvings that enticed the imagination.

(Y/N) spent more and more time in the library as Pansy Parkinson grew insufferable, and more often than not, the girl would stock up with diverse snacks for the day and rush back to her hideout like a little vermin, just to not bump into her fellow Slytherins.

On the other hand, Neville had been difficult to see as well lately. (Y/N) learned that Severus had punished him with not letting the Gryffindor out of the classroom until he could brew the Sleeping Draught perfectly, which resulted into a great deal of batches wasted.

Still, after having been released for successfully brewing a cauldronful of the potion, Neville’s guilt overpowered him and he refused to pair up with (Y/N) again, at least in Potions.

Halloween was around the corner, and the castle was being dressed up with exuberant decorations: live bats hanging on the ceiling and even the walls, giant carved pumpkins… and some even speculated that Dumbledore had hired a troupe of dancing skeletons.

‘Severus?’

‘Mm?’

It was October 30th, and she was spending time in the professor’s company while he programmed the upcoming classes. (Y/N) had chosen the Potions classroom as her new favourite spot to do her homework. It was a safe place, and she could help out Severus as soon as she finished. She enjoyed sitting in the same place she had for class, in the middle rows. Her desk was a bit messy with books, parchment and an unfinished essay.

‘I was wondering… is there any way for students to access the Restricted Section? Like, can Prefects go there?’

Severus smiled a bit to himself, lifting up his head. He had been hyperfocusing so much on his task that he hadn’t realized that he was completely slouching over the paper.

‘Is this about that book again?’ He inquired with a smirk.

(Y/N)’s cheeks lit up with a pinkish tint of embarrassment. Severus was sure sharp, but he didn’t use to be that straightforward.

‘Maybe…’ She admitted meekly.

Well, there was something that just appealed her about that book. Maybe it was just the fact that it was forbidden, but the books available for everyone just weren’t enough to satisfy her avid curiosity.

‘You don’t have to become a Prefect to borrow a book,’ Severus explained softly, ‘a signed note should suffice.’

‘Ah…’ (Y/N) lowered her head again and continued scribbling in her parchment. Severus, however, did not return to his task. Instead, he observed his student, wondering why she wouldn’t dare to ask for a note but, at the same time, she would be willing to become a Prefect, with everything that it entailed, just to read a book.

The professor reached out for a small piece of parchment and wrote:

I, Professor Snape, hereby allow the student (Y/N) (Y/L/N) to borrow a copy of Moste Potente Potions.

Then, he signed the note and stared at it for almost a minute before standing up and gently placing it in front of (Y/N), on top of her parchment.

‘What’s this?’ She squinted her eyes before reading it and lifting up her head, wide-eyed, to her professor, who watched her quietly with a strange look.

‘A-are you sure? Can I have it? For real?!’

Severus nodded with the faintest of the smiles tugging at the corner of his lips as he watched (Y/N)’s (E/C) eyes lit up and grow wider and wider.

‘Of course,’ said he in a soft voice, ‘you have read far more complicated books at home, you can surely handle that one too.’

(Y/N) bolted off the chair and latched on Severus’ waist in a tight squeeze.

‘Thank you!!’ She squirmed with her cheek pressed against his chest.

Her protector embraced her tightly, preventing her from seeing how glittery his eyes had suddenly gotten.

‘You may be able to check it out before curfew if you hurry up.’ Said he. (Y/N) enthusiastically picked up her belongings and storming out of the cold dungeons, but not without thanking him again and almost yelling him good night.

The joyful days soon turned dark after by the end of October, after the first incident happened.

Everybody found out at the same time: having the Halloween feast come to an end, the whole school left in mass the Great Hall with full bellies to go to their respective dormitories for the night. Even (Y/N) had been enjoying the dinner, as she took the chance to drop by the Gryffindor table to go see Neville after a good while.

But then, the multitude’s hustle died down as it arrived to the passage. Three people were already there; Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ron Weasley.

The crowd pushed forward to be able to catch a glimpse of the gruesome scene- there was a message written on the wall that read:

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.

And just underneath it, Mrs. Norris, Mr.Filch’s loathed cat, hanged from her tail, stiff as a board and with her eyes open.

Then, (Y/N) saw Draco Malfoy elbowing his way to the front of the scene while shouting:

‘Enemies of the Heir, beware! You’ll be next, Mudbloods!’

(Y/N) had never liked that kid. He was the heir of a rich pure-blood lineage (everyone in Slytherin knew about the Malfoys), and, being aware of his privileged status, the kid had grown into an insufferable stuck up brat that everyone wanted to please just to not upset him.

Soon arrived Mr. Filch, probably summoned by the fuss Malfoy caused,

‘What’s going on here? What’s going on?’

After that, he actually saw the scene, with his cat hanging off the torch.

‘My cat! My cat! What’s happened to Mrs. Norris?’ He shrieked. His voice made (Y/N)’s stomach twist with guilt, even though she had absolutely nothing to do with the matter. The caretaker wasn’t and individual you could just get along with; he wasn’t charismatic or nice in any sense, but the Slytherin couldn’t help feeling bad for him. Filch turned to look at Potter with bloodshot eyes:

‘You!’ He screeched. ‘You! You’ve murdered my cat! You’ve killed her! I’ll kill you! I’ll —’

‘Argus!’ Dumbledore arrived, followed by McGonagall, Lockhart and Severus, and in a matter of minutes, every student was sent to bed, except the three suspects. The uproar moved to the Slytherin Common Room, where the sons and daughters from the most ancient wizarding families seemed a bit too excited about the issue, and other less privileged argued that this had to be something Harry Potter had done.

(Y/N) sensibly retired to her dormitory without participating in the conversation, but she did not sleep that night.

The incident was still present in everyone’s mouths even days after. Filch had been seen scrubbing the wall and warding the crime scene in all his misery, while he attempted to blame and punish any student that showed too much happiness.

The young Slytherin chose to continue with her usual life and spend most of her time in the library, reading her new favourite potions book. She was completely absorbed in every single word, with her nose barely an inch away from the paper, an ugly posture she had unwillingly acquired from her mentor.

The library was quite crowded for being just a regular Wednesday, but (Y/N) was too busy taking notes of the random stuff that attracted her attention to actually have a look at her surroundings.

What she did notice, though, was that Ron Weasley was sitting at the same table as her, but at the opposite end, in the very end of the library.

God forbid your Gryffindor ass comes too close to a Slytherin, (Y/N) had resentfully thought.

The red-haired was measuring up his essay for History of Magic when Potter arrived.

‘I don’t believe it, I’m still eight inches short. . . And Hermione’s done four feet seven inches and her writing’s tiny.’ (Y/N) heard the former complain.

‘Where is she?’ Harry asked, and (Y/N) couldn’t help but eavesdrop.

Soon after, Granger reappeared from in between the shelves,

‘All the copies of Hogwarts, A History have been taken out,’ she said, sitting down next to Potter and Weasley, being the closest to (Y/N), yet without acknowledging her presence. ‘And there’s a two-week waiting list. I wish I hadn’t left my copy at home, but I couldn’t fit it in my trunk with all the Lockhart books.’ She sounded so ridiculously irritated that (Y/N) had to physically restrain herself from cackling, although the corner of her lips still curled up in a telltale smile.

‘Why do you want it?’ Potter asked his friend.

‘The same reason everyone else wants it,’ said Hermione, ‘to read up on the legend of the Chamber of Secrets.’

(Y/N) even stopped pretending to read in order to catch every detail possible, but Hermione said she didn’t remember the story.

Pity, (Y/N) thought, but she didn’t have much time to turn it over as the bell rang, signalling the beginning of the next lesson.

‘Who can it be, though?’ Hermione said in a quiet voice, as though continuing a conversation they had just been having. ‘It has to be a Slytherin, that’s for sure… I’ve thought that maybe…’ But she didn’t dare to finish the sentence.

‘Maybe..?’ Echoed Harry, raising his eyebrows.

‘(Y../N)?’ She finished with a strange expression, as if the simple thought of it caused her some sort of physical pain. Ron let out a little chortle at the suggestion.

‘I mean, what do we know about her, really? Nothing! And she’s smart enough to act and not get caught…’ The girl explained.

‘Smart? She’s the age of Fred and George, Hermione, and she’s in our class!’ Ron argued.

‘But,’ Hermione continued, bending closer to the boys and lowering her voice, ‘she has improved a lot, haven’t you noticed? Plus…’ At this point, she was barely whispering. ‘Neville told me that she doesn’t have parents. Wouldn’t that make her the only Slytherin heir? What if… she failed on purpose because she was… well, waiting for something?’ She locked eyes with Harry with a guilty expression, as though she didn’t want to even suggest that the heir of Slytherin had been waiting for him to come to Hogwarts.

‘Well,’ said he, ‘you’ve got a point there. And she speaks like Snape...’

‘What does that have to do with anything?’ Ron frowned.

‘He’s the Head of Slytherin, Ron. What if they’re working together? He has to know something. C’mon, it’s Snape.’ Harry remarked.

‘I don’t think it’s (Y/N), she doesn’t look like the type. Who’d want to frighten all the Squibs and Muggle-borns out of Hogwarts? Let’s think,’ said Ron in mock puzzlement. ‘Who do we know who thinks Muggle-borns are scum?’ He looked at Hermione. Hermione looked back, unconvinced.

‘If you’re talking about Malfoy —’

‘Of course I am!’ said Ron. ‘You heard him — ‘You’ll be next, Mudbloods!’ — come on, you’ve only got to look at his foul rat face to know it’s him —’

‘Malfoy, the Heir of Slytherin?’ said Hermione skeptically.

‘Look at his family,’ said Harry, closing his books, too. ‘The whole lot of them have been in Slytherin; he’s always boasting about it. They could easily be Slytherin’s descendants. His father’s definitely evil enough.’

‘They could’ve had the key to the Chamber of Secrets for centuries!’ said Ron. ‘Handing it down, father to son. . . .’

‘Well,’ said Hermione cautiously, ‘I suppose it’s possible. . . .’

But how do we prove it?’ said Harry darkly.

‘There might be a way,’ said Hermione slowly, dropping her voice still further with a quick glance across the room at Percy. ‘Of course, it would be difficult. And dangerous, very dangerous. We’d be breaking about fifty school rules, I expect —’

‘If, in a month or so, you feel like explaining, you will let us know, won’t you?’ said Ron irritably.

‘All right,’ said Hermione coldly. ‘What we’d need to do is to get inside the Slytherin common room and ask Malfoy a few questions without him realizing it’s us.’

‘But that’s impossible,’ Harry said as Ron laughed.

‘No, it’s not,’ said Hermione. ‘All we’d need would be some Polyjuice Potion.’

Harry, Ron and Hermione walked toward the Library in formation. The recipe they needed was supposed to be in a book called Moste Potente Potions, according to Snape (and Hermione), and although it was bound to be in the restricted section, Hermione believed that she might be able to convince Madam Pince to let her consult it really quickly for their Potions Homework.

Their request, however, was quickly and firmly turned down by the librarian, who gave the trio such a nasty glare that could very easily scare off a hippogriff.

‘What are we going to do now?’ asked Ron as he plopped down at the same table as the other day. He was specially bummed out, and so did Harry, who sat down by his side.

‘There’s still a way...’ Hermione sighed, sitting down in front of the other two.

‘Which one?’ Inquired Harry.

‘We need a signed note from a professor.’

‘But who’s going to sing it?’ Asked Ron, ‘“Hard to see why we’d want that book, really, if we weren’t going to try and make one of the potions.’

‘I think,’ said Hermione, ‘that if we made it sound as though we were just interested in the theory, we might stand a chance. . . .’

‘Oh, come on, no teacher’s going to fall for that,’ said Ron. ‘They’d have to be really thick. . . .’

And so, the trio went to the thickest professor they knew, Professor Lockhart, who was so full of himself that he didn’t bother looking at which book he was signing a permission for.

However, their plan didn’t go quite as they planned.

‘Sorry, this book has already been checked out.’ Madam Pince had sternly said after barely taking a look at the note.

‘I can’t believe our luck.’ Protested Harry as soon as they had left the library.

‘And now what?’ Ron asked, giving a little kick to the floor.

‘This is incredible…’ Hermione breathed out. She leaned against the giant wooden doors, staring up to the ceiling. ‘Who could have taken it, though? Not someone from our year, that’s for sure. That book is way too advanced to-’

‘Excuse me,’ a soft feminine voice interrupted her rambling.

‘Oh, hi (Y/N), sorry.’ Hermione hurriedly moved away from the door and let the Slytherin girl enter the library. She was carrying a bunch of books and other stuff.

(Y/N) had to twist her body into a weird position in order to not drop anything she carried. Her body was fully turned toward the three Gryffindors, and she smiled awkwardly. When she turned around again, Ron peeked above her shoulder out of nosiness, and clutched Harry’s robes in shock.

Hermione had also caught a glimpse of the moldy book on top of the Slytherin’s pile and let out a gasp.

On the cover, the title read, quite clearly: Moste Potente Potions.

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jinmukangwrites · 6 years ago

Text

Labrat

Some writing on the Modern AU thing everyone's been screaming at me to do. It's not the official story, there will be more planning and back story into it, but this was just something I wrote to get some thoughts down.

Prompt: Wild as lab rat / Discord Warrior Week prompt.

Warnings: description of gory injuries, blood, lots of blood, somewhat out of characterness, reference to experimentation, bad medical knowledge on authors part, Jin trying her best.

-o-o-o-o-

"So… what's your name?"

Rain pelts down, splashing against the windshield as Warrior drives. His windshield wipers need to be replaced, he should talk to Malon about it later, he can stand smudged windows only for so long. He takes his eyes off the road to look at the kid huddled as close to the door as possible in the passenger seat. His whole face is pink from the botched attempt to wipe off the blood that came impossibly from a bullet wound to the head. Now it is just a scar in between his eyebrows.

Warrior's borrowed jacket does nothing to hide the streaks of red that trail down the kids neck and into the white cotton sweater and sweatpants the kid was wearing. It does nothing to hide how scrawny the kid is, or how tired and scared he looks.

What did they do to him?

The kid remains silent and clutches his hands on his biceps. His blue eyes stubbornly stare out the window.

"My name's Link," Warrior says. He clears his throat and looks out to the road again. He sighs and changes the settings on his wipers so they went faster. The rain is picking up. "But there's actually a lot of people named Link nowadays, and there's quite the handful of us back at HQ, most everyone just calls me Warrior."

The kid remains silent.

Gunfire. It's a constant when you're fighting against corruption and evil. He and his team have finally found the rumored lab. Princess Zelda could be in there, inside that lab located in the middle of the ass nowhere; what felt like a million miles from Castle City. In reality it is just a short fifteen minute jog from the Zora's Domain / Hyrule Kingdom border. But the location doesn't matter. What matters is that Zelda could be held prisoner in there and Warrior has to save her.

They charge into the building and bullets zip into the air, covering the screams of the wounded. The soldiers in the labs are well trained and the scientists are prepared for a siege.

"Omega, find the computers. Get all the information you can," he commands as they barge into the building. Warrior holds out his gun and rapped fires almost ten guys down in the blink of an eye. Seven comrades nod and head off a different path from the rest. "Gama, search for the leader," five of the best warriors he had on his team complied and broke off in a separate direction as well. Warrior turns to the remaining three, four including himself. "Alpha, we check the cells."

He was hoping to find Zelda. He found the kid instead.

"You know you're safe now, right?" He asks. He hears a shifting of fabric and he turns in time to see the kid huddle further into his borrowed jacket. He turns back to the road once again. "You'll see soon enough. You'll like HQ, it's super peaceful. Everyone there are very nice. I think you'd get along with Malon, I bet she'll practically adopt you."

The number of corrupt soldiers in the compound become fewer and fewer the further they head into the hallways. Warrior and the other members of his team split up when they finally find where the cells are located. They open each metal door one by one, most are empty, the others have corpses. It smells horrible, especially one particular empty cell that looks like it has been lived in for a very long time.

Suddenly, the unmistakable sound of gunfire splits through the air.

He sighs once again. He's been doing that a lot since his team left the compound with nothing but a strange kid and documents on the horrible stuff done to him. He wants to throw up thinking about it, but he knows he has to save it till later. Time and Impa would want to know what happened on the mission, not how he feels about it.

The rest of the ride is silent and filled with Warrior constantly checking his mirrors for the other cars in his group and for a possible tail. They haven't lost anyone this time around, which is good, but it sets Warrior on edge. The compound looked half empty when they got there in the first place. The highest member there was an assistant scientist and the soldiers were numbered in few. And… they were trying to kill their main subject.

He and the others sprint over to the horrible noise. Who's firing the gun? Who's on the receiving end? Questions and worries cycle through his head like a broken record until he and his team barge into what looks like a morgue, just bigger and holding only one table. A table with straps. His breath catches in his throat when he sees a scientist and a soldier standing over a child, blood is splattered across the floor and painting the walls red. The kid is red as well, but they are groggily trying to sit up. There isn't a wound on his body to suggest where all the blood came from.

"Drop your weapon and surrender!" He demands, pointing his gun at the solder who has his own weapon pointed right at the figure on the ground.

The solder doesn't listen, he fires his weapon and the bullet rips through the skull of the kid… the child, and kills him instantly. Warrior downs the scientist and the soldier right there in the blink of an eye.

Hours pass and Warrior has given into the temptation of the radio. Upbeat pop music sings through the speakers of his car and the kid has fallen asleep, not that Warrior can blame him. He's had a very rough… who knew how long.

"Dammit," Warrior growls and tries not to look at how much red is splattered on the floor and walls. An innocent kid has just been killed right in front of Warrior, and he could do nothing about it. He turns to the others in his group and is slightly comforted that they look as sick as he feels. "Check the other rooms, see if you can find any others."

They nod and leave the morgue-like room, leaving Warrior alone with the corpses.

He slowly walks up to the body of the scientist and carefully begins to go through their pockets. All he finds is a name tag, indicating the scientist isn't of important status. There's handcuffs in the back pocket and Warrior doesn't want to know what those are for. He stands up and goes to the soldier, relieving them of their weapon and checking for anything else that could be useful. There's a walki, but it is crushed, probably by how the body fell when Warrior shot it in the heart. He sighs and looks at the single table in the room. There's blood all over it and the straps are torn and frayed from countess times of usage. He fights the urge to vomit when he looks down at the kid again. Blood is lazily dripping through the hole in his head.

Then, something flickers by the body of the kid. Warrior blinks and narrows his eyes, taking a weary step forward, as that something flickers again. It continues to light into existence, slowly, weakly, and soon he thinks he can make out the vague form of a Zora woman cloaked in teal light.

"C-c'mon…." She whispers. Her voice is so weak and she's talking like she's been in pain for a very long time. "I- you won't die… like this…"

Her frail and transparent hands shakily go down to the kids cheeks, ghostly steam rises, but nothing else happens.

"What the hell?" He whispers.

The Zora woman shoots her head up and she looks at him with wide eyes. "You can… see me…?"

Warrior can do nothing but nod. The Zora woman smiles for a second before she's looking down at the kid desperately once again. "You have to… help me… lend me your… strength…"

He doesn't understand what she means, but he walks over to her anyway and sits down next to her. Her hand is suddenly grabbing his and it feels like cold fire. She places the other hand over the gruesome hole in the boy's head and she closes her eyes, flickering once, twice, as she activates… something.

Warrior can feel a fire erupt in his veins, though it doesn't hurt. He can sense that something good is happening, and he should let it continue. The Zora woman grunts in effort as the hole in the kid's head begins to slowly repair itself. Warrior watches as brains stitch back together, as the skull grows around it, as tissue forms and skin closes in a horrid scar. He sees something else glowing then, and when he looks down he sees that it's his own hand that the light is coming from. Or, more like the triangle symbol glowing at the back of his head. He barely has time to question what that is before the Zora woman lets out a final, agonized cry before completely fading out from existence.

Then, the boy below him groans.

After that, got got a call from the Omega team, saying that they found the what the rumored important project was. It was a boy that could come back from the dead.

As Warrior pulls into a hidden, underground entrance and parks his car in the garage, he looks at the back of his hand. He's never seen that symbol before, well... never on his hand. He's seen it multiple times in the ancient structures of old buildings closer to the castle, and the castle itself seems to be based completely off of it. It's in religious texts and on the robes of court witches and wizards, but for the life of him he cannot think of what it means.

More cars pull in behind him and he looks over to the sleeping kid. None of the files that team Omega has found had any kind of name or history of where the boy came from. Just excruciating details of each and every thing done to the boy. They called him The Subject, that's it. Like he was the only thing they worked on inside that hell lab, like all those other cells with dead bodies in them were nothing.

He he sighs and turns off the engine before jumping out. He walks over to the other side of the car as the other rebellion soldiers start packing up their stuff and heading inside the base. He waves over a couple medics before he carefully opens the passenger door. The kid slowly begins to fall back and he catches the sleeping boy before he can fall onto the ground. Warrior cradles him in his arms and approaches the medics. They help him set the boy down but the movement is too quick and the boy awakes with a start. Warrior loses his grip and the boy falls to the ground, breathing hard and panicking.

"It's okay," he says as the medics try to get closer. The boy scrambles backwards on the asphalt below him, Warriors borrowed jacket falls off and fully reveals the horror show that is his clothes. The medics won't have it, they are trained for war and they won't let a panicking soldier delay medical treatment. Warrior feels that that is the last thing the boy needs, but he does nothing to stop them.

Eventually, one of the two medics manage to get the kid in a restraining hold as the other begins to wipe off blood from the visible skin and shine a light into the kids wild eyes. He continues his check up all the while the boy is squirming and whimpering and trying to get free.

"I'll need him back at the clinic," the medic says, sighing and sitting back. The other releases their hold just a fraction on the boy and the boy relaxes just a tad, "but it looks like he has a major concussion of some sort."

"How bad?" Warrior asks.

Suddenly, the kid leans over and vomits all over the floor. The medic wrinkles his nose and the other, who was holding the boy, instantly begins to rub his back. Warrior steps a bit closer, concerned but having no idea what to do.

The medic sighs. "Bad. We need to get him to a better medical setting. Letting him sleep on the way here could have been a bad idea, Captain."

Warrior remains silent as the medics begin to force the boy onto a gurney. The boy begins to panic again as he's strapped down, and Warrior wants to scream at them to stop. Who knows how many times the kid has been forced down and tied up, it's not fair that his rescuers are doing the same thing. Yet, before Warriors can comment on it, the medics are wheeling the boy away.

"Is that the kid you were talking about?" Comes a voice.

Warrior straightens up and looks behind him where the leader of their little rebellion was standing. Link, well, another Link, everyone just calls him Time. Though, no one is sure why. Behind him is standing another boy, probably just a bit older than the kid Warrior had just brought back. Named after his father but goes by Twilight.

Warrior sighs and rubs his forehead, he tries to not think about how the place he's rubbing is the same place the kid was missing his brains from just a few hours ago.

"Yeah."

Time nods as Twilight looks at where the medics have disappeared into the base, his expression sad.

"You can give me a report later," Time sighs, "it's clear that the princess hasn't been found."

"No sir," Warrior responds.

Yet he can't help but feel that he's found someone just as important.

#linked universe #modern au #hero of the wild #hero of Warriors #hero of time #hero of twilight #fan fiction #jin writes #it was very fun to write this #felt like i was writing a YA novel #just change the names and it can be an original work

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azvolrien · 5 years ago

Text

Five Vignettes about Asta in Stormhaven - Departure

Last one! Involves genealogy.

~~~

“So, let me see if I’ve got this straightened out in my head,” said Calburn, nudging aside the lesson plan laid out on the café table. “You are, in fact, Kiraani nobility?”

“In a loose sense, yes,” said Asta. “I’m part of House zeDamar.”

“But you’re not, like, nobility-nobility?”

“I don’t have a title, no. I’m not ‘Lady Asta’.”

“So how does it work?”

“Well…” Asta frowned thoughtfully. “The noble houses are based on lineage, not land. Who you’re descended from, not what territory they held. The nobiliary particle ‘ze’ means ‘descendant of’, or more poetically ‘of the line of’. With me?”

Calburn nodded slowly. “So that makes you ‘Asta of the line of Damar’, Damar being your ancestor?”

“Yes, what we call the Founding Lord – the person the House is named after. Or Founding Lady, but most of them were men. If I recall correctly, Damar was an architect or an engineer or something who was raised to the nobility for his work on the Bastion back in the Imperial City, some seven or eight hundred years ago. The five most prominent noble houses – zeAkiro, zeKandron, zeYunar, zeMora and zeTharion – are the descendants of Raan the Conqueror’s closest allies when he was fighting to unite the Kargvallen hill tribes, but today there are fifty-odd different houses. Officially they’re all of equal rank; in practice there’s a whole system of seniority based on how long ago the Founding Lord lived as well as political and economic influence. House zeDamar is roughly in the middle on all counts.”

Calburn nodded again, less slowly.

“As far as rank within each house goes,” Asta went on, “that’s all to do with birth order. House leadership is passed down from the Founding Lord, from parent to oldest child, over and over through the years. That direct line of descent forms the core family – the current House Lord and their children and grandchildren. The House Lord’s great-grandchildren, however, except for those via the firstborn, are not part of the core family; those are the people whose descendants lead to minor branches, people like me who carry the name but don’t have any titles or lands. My…” Asta paused for a second and started to count off on her fingers, “…great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great,” she glanced down at her hands, realised she had run out of fingers, and tagged on an additional ‘great’, “grandfather was the third son of the Lord zeDamar of the day. So the last common ancestor I have with the current core family was so long ago that, name aside, we’re not even really related in any meaningful biological sense.”

“I have no idea what degree of cousin that is,” said Calburn. “So if the Imperial line is descended from this Raan the Conqueror… Does that make the new Emperor ‘Zarannon zeRaan’?”

“The Imperial line prefers to use their titles instead,” said Asta, smiling, “but I suppose it does, yes.”

“Did you hear Wygar and Fayn got invited to the coronation?”

“Yes – from you, at least five times.”

“They must be nearly in Kiraan by now,” said Calburn. “I hope they’re all right.”

“Fayn did seem a bit peaky the last time I saw her,” said Asta, “but I’m sure the royal entourage’s healers are very skilled.”

“I suppose,” said Calburn with a sigh. He pulled the lesson plan back over. “So, this lesson I’ve drawn up for the apprentices tomorrow – d’you think it’s too advanced, or is this a good place to start them off?”

“If they’re only junior apprentices, you probably don’t need to go into this much detail,” said Asta after a minute. “The exact mechanics of construct growth can probably wait until they have a better handle on the basics. Maybe add something about revenants in your history section, though, to help keep their interest. Children love gruesome details, and what’s more gruesome than a mummified corpse enchanted to walk around?”

“A non-mummified corpse?” suggested Calburn.

“That’s revolting,” said Asta with a reluctant smile. “Accurate, but revolting.”

The waitress arrived with their drinks, and Asta took a newspaper from her satchel.

“You must be one of the only people in Stormhaven who gets the Duncraig Herald,” said Calburn, spooning sugar into his coffee.

“I think there are a few other ex-pats from the Sea Lochs who like to keep track of how things are going at home.” Asta briefly cast her eye over the headline – preparations for celebrating the Emperor’s upcoming coronation – and turned the page.

Calburn wrapped his hands around the mug and sipped his coffee. “Funny you say it like that,” he noted.

“Like what?”

“Well – you’re Kiraani, born and raised in the Imperial City. You only lived in the Sea Lochs for five years, yeah, and as a slave at that, and you’ve been here for the last two. But it’s there that you think of as home, not Kiraan.”

Asta averted her eyes. “Home is where the heart is, I suppose,” she said.

Calburn took another sip. “This mysterious painted barbarian of yours, then,” he said.

“Hey, only I’m allowed to call her that,” said Asta without ire. She laid the newspaper on the table and picked up her teacup. “But… Yes, that’s it. So, speaking of… such matters, your girlfriend doesn’t object to your meeting up with another woman for tea and coffee?”

“Nah, Olwen’s too confident for that kind of thing,” said Calburn. “’Sides, she’s well aware of your tastes.”

Asta smiled and turned her attention back to the paper, scanning idly over the first few articles. Then the name ‘MacArra’ leapt off the page and she picked the paper back up to read more closely.

“’S up?” asked Calburn.

Asta started to grin hugely. “Read this! This article here!”

She didn’t really need to point it out; it took up half of the page. Calburn took the paper, cleared his throat, and started to read key words aloud.

“Right. Uh-huh. Clan MacArra, Sea Loch noble house based on estate outside Duncraig… Protection of Slaves Act… anonymous tipoff, suspected to be one of the household servants… Overwhelming evidence of abusive behaviour now recognised under the Act as unlawful. Oh, eurgh, ‘unlawful’ is one way of putting it – look what they’d been up to. Sounds like you were lucky to get out when you did.”

“Believe me, I’m under no illusions about that. Daro didn’t make it a secret that he wanted me as his ‘personal companion’.”

Calburn wrinkled his nose in disgust. “I don’t even want to think about what that would’ve meant by his standards. Let’s see, slaves and free servants interviewed by marshals, evidence compiled and presented to the Governor… Twenty-year custodial sentence? Wow. The new Emperor really means business over this. Wonder how he managed to get it through the Senate? Even in Stormhaven we know how much clout the Slavers’ League holds.”

“I did see him at the university once, back in Kiraan,” said Asta. “He’d come to officially open a new equestrian centre for the sports department. He’s quite a big man – taller than Wygar and with massive shoulders. Maybe he just stood up and loomed imposingly at them.”

“Huh. Wonder if he’s going to aim for banning it outright next?”

“That would be nice, but I don’t think the Empire is quite ready for that big a change yet.” Asta stirred her tea and drank.

“So… What happens now? You going to head back north, now your old owners are out of the way?”

“Well… Yes. There are things to arrange, though. Moving out, tendering my resignation, arranging transport…”

“On that last point,” said Calburn. “A couple of the Portallists up at the College do owe me a favour. The rest seems easy enough to handle – even easier if you’re prepared to leave the stuff in your flat behind. But… I hope we can stay in touch.”

The very next morning, Asta rode up to the College and led Pardus through to the School of Portals’ territory, where an empty archway of solid stone waited in the centre of an otherwise empty room.

“You’re quite sure about this?” asked Master Gwen, reading over Asta’s letter of resignation for the third time as a Portallist prepared to open a gate to Duncraig.

“Yes.”

Master Gwen turned a careful eye on Asta. “I think,” she said, “I will consider you on leave for the next few weeks. To leave your options open for a while. And if you don’t come back,” she waved the letter in the air, “then I will file this.”

Asta frowned, but nodded. “Thank you.”

“But since you’re going up there anyway – this portal will take you to the University of Duncraig. Can you drop this off with the rector on your way through?” She held up a bag of correspondence.

Asta laughed and took it from her. “Yes, of course. Thank you for all your help.”

Calburn sidled around the door, moments before running footsteps sounded in the corridor and Ari skidded through behind him.

“Good, I caught you,” she said, panting for breath. She straightened up and laid both hands on Asta’s shoulders. “You’re really going back to the Sea Lochs?”

Asta nodded. “Yes. I… I’ve liked living in Stormhaven. I really have. But I don’t think it’s where I belong.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

“Well…” Ari pulled her into a robust bear-hug. “You’ll always have a place here if you want to come back,” she said. “I’ll make sure of it.”

“Thank you. Say goodbye to Fayn for me when she gets back from the coronation.”

Calburn joined the hug, lifting both of them off the ground for a moment. “Safe journey,” he said. “I’ll miss your help with my lessons – I think the kids will too.”

The Portallist cleared her throat and raised her arms. The space within the archway shimmered and distorted, until with a flash of light and a puff of displacing air, the view changed from the other side of the room to a snowy courtyard. “Duncraig portal open and holding,” she stated. “Step through whenever you’re ready. Preferably soon, though – I can’t hold this forever!”

Calburn let go and drew back, patting Asta on the shoulder. “Go on, then,” he said, sniffling a little. “Go find your barbarian.”

Asta smiled, waved a last farewell to everyone, and led Pardus through the arch into the chill of a Duncraig winter. The portal closed behind them without a sound. The rector’s office was not far from the quadrangle where the gateway had opened; it only took a few minutes to drop off Gwen’s letters and head out into the street. Another half-hour saw them crossing the great bridge north of the city and riding along the bank of Loch Gorm, southwest towards the sea.

Asta took a deep breath of the cold, sea-scented air as Pardus ran. She was going home.

~~~

Zar is not, in fact, completely above looming imposingly at people to get his way, but he prefers to try the diplomatic path first.

#az writes stories

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els-writes · 6 years ago

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A New Name - Godless Snippet

How ‘Fifth’ came to be Fifth.

The ocean provided a strange kind of sanctuary. Spinel stood at the prow, clutching the gunwale as she gazed off across the flat grey water. She didn’t miss the glittering blue of the reflected sky in the waves, not when the angry grey clouds that still hung above them had brought them a few too many miracles today. A fog that hid them, and the first rainfall in the Tyfan desert in centuries: that little monster that was still pressed in Cal’s arms – its eyes bright and open as it gazed out over the water – was something Spinel thought she’d never see in her lifetime.

There had been no arguments as hurried back along the old desert road to further along the coast where the Leaving had been left by the shore. No one had questioned why Mae had given her horse to a passing girl in the coastal village and continued onto the ship with them. Barely a word at all had passed between them as Laszlo took the ship further out, far enough into the ocean until the land was nothing but a speck on the horizon, and at last, they felt free and safe.

Unconfident on the deck, the little monster had clambered back into Cal’s arms the moment they were off dry land, but it didn’t stop it from crying out in joy at every new sight it took in. It whistled at a school of passing dolphins, crooned back at the cawing gulls flying overhead, roared at the wind the beat at the sails. In the light of day, the horror of the monster’s body was unveiled. The gaping tears in its wingsails, the shining liquid that leaked from the place’s scales had freshly broken away, or the lumpy scabs of old wounds. Its head, small and delicate, was ugly with gruesome scars like veins – what could have caused such injuries, Spinel didn’t even want to know.

Cal’s face was soft as he watched the monster taking it all in, his eyebrows twitching as if listening to a voice. Spinel had heard the creature call out to them when the monster had called out for them to move – a voice so young and innocent, it felt twisted to give it such a vile body – but she’d not heard it since.

The hatch lifted behind them, and Spinel glanced back as Mae and Laszlo emerged from below. Laszlo marched straight back to his place at the helm. His face hadn’t been smoothed of a single crease yet.

Mae edged over to them, kneeling down to place two wide bowls on the ground. “I… I wasn’t sure what would be good for him…”

Water, and some strange mashed up red stuff. Spinel’s nose twitched. It stank of blood. Uncooked meat. How appealing.

Kneeling down, Cal set the monster on the deck – earning a squeak of protest from it – but Cal’s hands remained on its sides, keeping it steady. It sniffed suspiciously at the bowls, only to pull back in fear, ears pressed flat against its head.

Mae jumped, rubbing at her head. “I-I’m not trying to test you…” she said.

So, the monster could pick who heard it at once, perhaps?

“I just wanted you to eat… you look hungry…”

Stepping forwards, Spinel dropped to the deck beside the monster with a heavy sigh. She flattened her skirts, and picked up the water bowl. “The things I do for this motley crew...” She took a long sip out of the bowl. It was at least fresh and cool, and she put the bowl directly before the monster. “Now drink, little one. It is rude not to share a drink with a lady of my status when she invites you.”

Monster not rude…

There it was. That pitiful voice, brushing at her mind in the oddest manner.

“Is that so?” Spinel asked. “Then you best drink and eat. And you best make sure when you speak, we can all hear. I don’t much like people keeping secrets from me.”

This news seemed to shock the creature, and it nodded slowly, before lowering its head to sniff at the water. It took one tiny drink, looking back up at Mae, who gave it a reassuring nod, before it went back to drinking.

They all watched as the monster discovered its own needs, draining the small amount of water, and then venturing to the mashed meat. Within moments, it was gone, and Mae promised more later.

“That portion isn’t going to be enough,” Spinel pointed out as Mae collected the bowls.

“If he’s been hungry for a long time, it’s better to give him a little to start with. His stomach might reject it…” she said.

Spinel hummed, leaning back on her hands as she observed the monster licking its lips. “So. A him, is it?”

Mae paused. “He sounds like one…”

“Well, what does out resident monster-keeper say?” Spinel reached out, prodding Cal’s arm until he gave them attention. She watched the uncertainty pass over Cal’s face, the hesitance. She rolled her eyes; he’d been so talkative in the Temple. Now he had lost his words again?

Monster he. Monster know. Sister said.

“Sister? There’s another like you? Tell me its not an older one.”

The monster scratched its neck with a hind leg, like a dog. Sister older. Sister big. Sister very smart. Help and Monster go get Sister.

“Help…?” Mae asked slowly, but the creature crooned over at Cal.

Spinel quirked an eyebrow at her strange quiet friend, but when Cal met her gaze, she saw something darker being held back there. He gave the slightest shake of his head, and Spinel knew to pull away from that topic.

“Anyway, can we decide on something other than ‘monster’ to call this little one?” she said instead. “Feels a little… blunt.”

Turning to her, the monster cocked his head to the side. Monster is Monster.

“Yes, but ‘monster’ is a somewhat cruel word.”

Monster is Monster. Told so.

“And whoever told you that is a monster themselves.” Spinel pushed herself to her feet, stretching her arms up above her head. “You are no longer the monster in the pit, little one. You helped us escape, and I intend to return that debt. You are the fifth member of our little messed up family here.”

Me. Fifth?

“That’s right, so–”

Fifth! Like Fifth! Love Fifth!

Spinel blinked. The little monster jumped where it stood, crooning loudly as he buried himself back in Cal’s arms.

Help! Me Fifth now. Fifth happy. New name.

Glancing at Mae, Spinel frowned. “You all know that’s not what I meant, right?”

Mae just shrugged. “Fifth seems happy with it.”

Across the deck, Laszlo stood at the wheel. His hands gripped the wood tightly, knuckles turning pale with the force. His head was turned, like refusing to acknowledge the fact he was clearly listening to them, but there was a panic in his features that Spinel couldn’t quite understand.

But it wasn’t just her who was looking. Cal’s eyes always seemed to find Laszlo eventually, even when little Fifth was crying into his face as he was now. Pushing lightly at the little creature, Cal coaxed Fifth off his lap and towards Mae – the poor girl hadn’t expected the strange thing to jump straight into her lap, toppling her over. Cal crossed over the deck to where Laszlo stood. He didn’t crowd him – just leant against the gunwale nearby, watching him. Making a show of picking up the bowls, Spinel made her way over to the hatch, pausing to listen in on the quiet words barely audible over Fifth’s squeaking.

“Cal… say my name.”

“Laszlo.”

“That’s all I want to be. Laszlo. Just Laszlo.”

“Okay. Just Laszlo.”

Spinel moved down into the ship. She dropped the bowls into the tub of water that had been filled to wash up. Rolling up her sleeves, she started to clean, her mind racing too far ahead of her to go back up and make conversation. Between Cal being… well, himself, Laszlo looking more broken by the second, and Fifth’s entire existence, Spinel wondered what sort of mess these boys had led her and poor Miss Maesha Day into. What she did know, was that these boys would never survive without her.

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#godless #wip #writing #writeblr #dragons #because he is a dragon fyi #its been like a month since i wrote godless properly omg #stupid work and life getting in the way #oh and writers block

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