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xexiar · 1 year ago

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Keep Watching. 43

Ch42 Ao3

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Chapter 43

When I got to the beach, I was not surprised to see that All Might was talking with a group of female fans. I still was confused by the fact he would always drop whatever he was doing to talk with them. Is that something I would eventually have to do once I became a hero? It doesn’t help that seeing how the girls were touching his chest and arms left me feeling like I would throw up. Not In the sense that watching it made me sick. But in the sense, that is something I might have to eventually do.

All Might is known to be very close and personal with his female fans. There are tons of public photos of him with his fans. Some are from news reports, while others are from fans themselves. And as I was waiting for him to finish, I remembered about that report I promised Sydney I would help with. Besides training for the sports festival and studying, I did look through all my notes. I even rewatched every single news report. Yet, somehow, I didn’t find anything I didn’t already know.

Yet, what about his teacher I was now going to train with? There were no reports about that. At that time, there were no reports about him ever having sidekicks or working for a single agency. What if all the news articles only have half of the story? So, where would I find more information? Would All Might even answer my questions on that?

That’s when I remembered coming across that one story. It was done by a not-so-well-known news station. What made it seem unrelievable was how that station had been out of business for 10 years. But maybe I should look into that story. After all, it had this one picture that looked like All Might leaving a motel with someone. I originally dismissed it because there was just no way All Might would do such a thing. Would he?

After what felt like forever, All Might’s fans finally left. When they did, All Might turned back to his true form. What followed next was a lecture I was not expecting. Was I not supposed to do my absolute best? I went all out and everything. At that, he didn’t say anything about this yesterday or earlier today. But the moment we’re at the beach, he decides to go about giving me a full lecture about being reckless.

As much as I tried to listen to him, it all sounded like a jumbled mess. Stuff about hurting myself and how I need to stop breaking my arms. Even going about how I wasn’t using his quirk properly. “Not my fault I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“Impossible. When I first got the quirk, it was like second nature to me. So what part of it are you not getting?”

At that, I just looked at All Might. It was like second nature to him? He was quirkless before getting OFA, and yet having a quirk came easy to him. What am I getting wrong then? Am I that much of a failure? Everything came easy to everyone else. But when I tried, I still failed.

Everything I tried I failed. I can’t skateboard anything past cruising. I never had the strength or speed to be able to do parkour like Kacchan. I always got picked last or not at all for PE classes. Especially when I ended up on any team, I messed everything up. So, there is just no point in doing any of this. I should just try to give back OFA to All Might.

But what about the promise I made to Kacchan? I did promise him I would get better so I could have a rematch. Seeing him in that much pain hurt so much. So, I have to do this. At least to settle that one promise. After that, I could try to talk to All Might. I could… “Hey.” I suddenly blinked and looked up. “Are you alright there, kid?” It was then I noticed I was crying.

“I’m fine.”

All Might was not smiling. Instead, I wasn’t able to tell what expression he was having. “I’m sorry for yelling at you.” At that, I blinked again as I was taken aback by what he just said. Did I hear that right? Did he just apologize to me? “I didn’t mean to yell.” I watched as he let out a sigh before hugging me. “I was just frustrated and worried. We’ll figure this out. I have to remember that you’re not me.”

Even though I heard clear as day what All Might said, I was still taken aback by it. There’s only one other person who has ever apologized to me about something, and it never made me feel better about the situation. Yet, this one feels so different. At that, I felt a strange sense of warmth, and I didn’t want to let go of this feeling. Especially since this is the second time I have felt this when interacting with my idol. What is this feeling?

After what felt too soon, All Might stopped hugging me and ruffled my hair. “You’re a good kid. I can already tell my teacher is going to like you.”

“You really think so?”

Using his thumb, All Might pointed to himself. “I know so. Don’t worry too much about it, kid.” He then ruffled my hair again. “So, have you picked out your hero name yet?”

“Not really.” I tried to push his hand off me, but it just stood there. “Why did you choose All Might?”

That’s when he stepped back and did the thinker pose as he stood there. “I don’t remember much. But I do know I wanted something that represented what I wanted to do. Since I wanted to be a symbol of peace, it had to be something that fit.” He rubbed his chin as he looked at the night sky. “Since my quirk did make me strong, it’s probably another reason I chose that name.” At that, he looked back down at me. “Besides following in my footsteps, why do you want to be a hero? What is the core reason you want so badly to be a hero?”

At that, all I could think about was how Kacchan was trapped by the sludge villain. Then I thought about Uraraka being trapped during the entrance exams. There’s also Todoroki. That’s when I looked up at All Might. “I want to give hope to those who feel trapped and hopeless.” After we spoke a bit more, I went home. And what happened the next day I was not ready for.

…

As we sat down for breakfast, I couldn’t help but notice the way the old bag was looking at me. It’s not her usual happy or grumpy expression, but something completely different. I wonder what that is about. Especially since her expression was towards me. “What now, hag?”

“You’re doing it again, brat.”

“Doing what?”

I watched as she looked over to the old man. They shared a look before she focused her attention on me again. “I won’t push you to answer me, but I am aware that you cut into your father’s morning routine.” At that, I automatically flinched as I waited for what I knew would come next. But to my shock, the lecture never came. Instead, the hag just went back to eating. What the hell was going on?

While putting on my shoes, I noticed how the hag just kept hovering over me. “What the hell do you want?”

“First of all,” I suddenly got punched behind the head. Which I instantly went about rubbing the sore spot. “Secondly,” I looked back and saw that she was frowning. “You’re a Bakugo. So go out there and take what’s yours.”

At that, I felt my shoulders drop as I looked at my feet. “What if it’s something I can’t have?”

“Who said that?” I looked back at mom. “Like any challenge, you can’t win if you don’t even start.” I just kept looking at her. What exactly did she mean by that? At that, it didn’t help with how she had this small smile. Was she trying to be encouraging? Not like she hadn’t before, but it just seemed odd. “Brat.” That’s when she suddenly pulled me into a hug. What is with my folks hugging me this morning? Especially since it has me crying and feeling so small and pathetic. Mom was even gently rubbing my back. “Would you like to go shopping with me this Saturday?”

“Can I invite a few friends?”

She pulled back just a bit before squishing my face. “Of course. Now, no more pouting. You have to get to school, or you’ll be late.” With that, I headed out the door.

I practically stopped in my tracks when I reached the corner. There, in plain view, was Deku. Yet something about him seemed different. He didn’t even do his usual looking around before walking away. Or even acknowledged my presence. It’s not often we end up heading out at the same time. It’s either I leave long before him, or he does before me. But during the times that this happens…

I quickly ran over and tried to get ahead of him. No way was I letting him get to the station before me. “Good morning to you, too, Kacchan.” I just sucked my teeth and kept walking. “Did you choose what agency you going for?”

“It’s too early for this nerd.” Of course, it just ended up with him mumbling to himself the whole way to the station. At least on the train ride, I noticed the way he was looking at his phone. He was most likely catching up on his hero news. Speaking of which, I quickly pulled out my phone and searched if there was any new merch coming out this weekend. It would be so cool if any new poster came out, especially for the upcoming All Might Brawl game that will be released next week.

“Kacchan?” I looked behind me as we were getting out of the station. “All Might Brawl 6 comes out in 2 weeks.” Deku rushed over to my side and had this huge smile. I just wanted to pinch his cheeks with how cute he looked right now. “I’m not sure if you saw, but I asked in the class chat if anyone wanted to join me in going.”

Somehow, it upset me that he wasn’t asking me to go. So, I shoved him away and started to storm off. “And why should I care what you do with those extras.”

“But Kacchan.” Oh god, that whiny little shit. But I have to stay strong and keep walking. “Kacchan.” Why the hell is the damn nerd whining so much this morning? At that, I made the grave mistake of looking over my shoulder. Because what I saw was Deku looking extra cute with those big eyes of his. Especially for the fact he looks like a puppy. Does he know how he looks when he does that? At that, it never failed to stop me in my tracks. “Kacchan.”

“What, you damn nerd!”

“Come with us.”

I tried to fight back my excitement when I realized something. Which was royally pissing me off. Deku was only asking me because I didn’t say anything in the group chat. There’s no way he actually wanted me to go. It truly was pathetic of me to hope for something so stupid. “Why the fuck would I do something so childish as that?”

Deku looked at the ground before looking back up at me. “I’ve heard they’re giving out exclusive merch to only those who show up on release night.”

I tried my best to not seem like I cared. “And.”

That’s when Deku smiled again. “I’ve also heard that there’s going to be a raffle. Along with the first 20 customers would get the collector's edition set at no extra cost.”

I grabbed both of Deku’s shoulders. “You better not be lying to me, nerd! Or I will beat your ass.”

“I swear, Kacchan.” He tried to push away, but I just kept shaking him. “I’ll send you all the details. Kacchan.” At that, I finally let him go. “So, does that mean you’re coming?”

“And pass up on extra merch and collectors edition, hell no. I’m fucking going!” The way Deku smiled was blinding.

…

As I looked over the list of hero agencies that were asking for me, I couldn’t help but notice a few things. A lot of them I recognize have close ties to the beauty industry. I wonder if that’s why they were requiring me. It’s not unheard of, and I really don’t want to just be another face that gets forgotten by next year. After all, that always happens.

Which leaves me to question what type of internship I am after? At least, what is it that I want from it? Or what kind of hero do I want to be besides making everyone happy? That’s when I recalled how hard Deku fought during the sports festival. At that, Bakugo not only took me seriously during our match but also saw me as a challenge.

“But it didn’t feel like I would have won regardless.” It’s then that a name stood out to me. “That’s it! I’ll just get stronger. Almost like how Deku is constantly working out. Maybe I would even eventually be able to defeat Bakugo if I worked just as hard.” With that said, I finished filling out the internship forms and went to bed.

The next day, I was not surprised to walk into Bakugo and Deku arguing this early in the morning. To some, it became background noise. But to others, like Kaminari and Kirishima, who would try to jump into the argument. From the looks of it, today, all the boys seem to be having a little group discussion. I wonder what for. “Good morning, Uraraka.”

I looked up and saw Ida. “Good morning, Ida.” I then pointed over to the rest of the boys. “Have any idea what that’s about?”

“Something about a video game.” I watched as Todoroki sat in his seat and took out his phone. “Midoriya did mention a release for a game in the class chat.”

“Oh, that!” I recalled the lovely essay-long conversations that I woke up to this morning.

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A/N: From here till the end of January, I will attempt to post a chapter a week. I'm still not feeling emotionally well. So, trying to take it easy but still wanted to write. Thank you, everyone, for reading and following KW. Hugs.

#mha #bakugo katsuki #fanfic #bkdk #izuku midoriya #bnha bkdk #bakugou x deku #bkdk fanfic

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afewnovelideas · 4 years ago

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica, Magia Record: Puella Magi Madoka Magica Side Story, DCU (Comics), Batman (Comics), Young Justice (Comics), Robin (Comics), Red Robin (Comics), Teen Titans (Comics) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Kyubey (PMMM), Tim Drake, Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Selina Kyle Additional Tags: Tim Drake-centric, Tim Drake is Robin, Tim Drake is Not Okay, Tim Drake Needs a Hug, Tim Drake Gets a Hug, Alternate Universe - Madoka Magica Fusion, Soul Gems (Madoka Magica), Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Magical Boys, Origin Story, No Beta We Die Like Mami, Don't Have to Know Madoka Magica Canon, Bruce Wayne Tries to Be a Good Parent Series: Part 1 of Eques Magi: Originem - Magicka Knights: Origin Summary:

"The Labyrinths of Gotham City are so tightly concentrated, no human born here can escape the influence of at least one or two Witches, if not more. Despite the aura of despair and the constant work of the Witches' various Familiars, there are still those souls who persist in clinging to hope and will do whatever they can to try and make this city a better place, even though all their efforts will ultimately fail in the end.

"It's the perfect environment to find a new Magicka Knight."

---

"Have you ever seen an albino cat?"

Catwoman, aka Selina Kyle, glanced over at Batman's newest Robin curiously. She hadn't been expecting to cross paths with him, but since it was obvious the Big Bad Bat was out of town and Nightwing hadn't shown up at all in the past week, she decided to keep an eye on the new kid for at least the evening. He certainly wasn't like the previous Robin. This thirteen-year-old boy was quiet and thoughtful, which had been quite a change from the previous brash impulsive kid Batman had been mentoring a little over a year ago before they were murdered by the Joker.

She also noticed that this Robin was glancing over his shoulder at something on the rooftop on the other side of the street. "An albino, huh?" she said as she tried to follow his gaze. However, despite using her binoculars to zoom in on the far rooftop, she couldn't see any sign of any animal, feline, albino, or otherwise. "I've heard of them, but never seen one in person," Selina admitted casually as she put away her binoculars. "They are extremely rare." She smiled at Robin. "Have you seen one around town?"

Robin leaned against his bo staff thoughtfully. "I think so, but I'm not really sure."

"Not sure?"

The boy looked up at Selina earnestly. "Y'know how a cat has two pointed ears about here?" Amusingly to the professional cat burglar, Robin made a vague pair of cat-ear shapes with his hand at the top of his head. She smiled affectionately.

"Yeah. It's kind of a defining cat trait, having pointy ears."

Robin pouted slightly at the teasing tone he caught in Catwoman's voice. Then he continued. "Well... This cat I've been seeing... It looks like they have a second set of ears too."

"A second set?"

He nodded. He made a motion with his hands that seemed to make another vague shape that started at the base of where the cat's ears ought to be and downward along either side of its head. "Yeah. They kinda start out here and go all the way down there."

"Are you sure what you're looking at is an albino 'cat'? That kinda sounds more like a white rabbit to me."

"But it has pointy ears like a cat," Robin argued. "And its got a long fluffy tail, and its legs are like a cat's." The young teenager frowned slightly. "It's really weird looking."

"Well it does sound like a unique creature, whatever it is," Selina said thoughtfully. "Maybe it's some sort of cryptid or mutant? This is Gotham after all." She smiled at Robin. "Tell ya what. If you can catch a photo of the critter, I promise I'll take a good hard look and let you know if it's a cat, a rabbit, or something completely different." Then she gave him an almost stern maternal look. "But be careful. Don't get too close. If it does turn out to be something 'not normal', it could be dangerous."

"Okay."

---

It was two nights later and Tim Drake, fully decked out as Robin for another solo patrol, had just finished trussing up a pair of would-be carjackers. As soon as he placed the anon call to the Gotham PD for pickup, he glanced up to fire his grapple gun and froze.

There, on the rooftop above him, was a familiar white shape with two sets of ears and red eyes. The "cat" was peering down. He could see the animal's long fluffy tail swishing this way and that. Tim's breath caught in his throat. This was the closest he'd ever seen the animal come to him before. Rather than risk his grapple gun startling the animal and scaring it away, the young vigilante quickly indulged in some impromptu parkour up a garbage bin and a chain link fence to reach the metal fire escape attached to the side of the building.

When he pulled himself on the rooftop, Tim was disappointed to find that it appeared to be empty. Not a trace of red eyes or white fur anywhere. He walked across the roof slowly, scanning the area for any sign of the small creature as he pulled out a small portable camera from his utility belt. "Hey there," he whispered softly. "Here kitty, kitty, kitty. I'm not going to hurt you. C'mon out please. I just wanna take a picture."

When no one came out of hiding, Tim tried a different tactic. He reached into another pouch on his belt and pulled out a small package of beef jerky. He shook the bag temptingly before opening it and setting it on the ground before stepping away from it. "Got some food here if you want. All for you."

"Thank you, but no. I'm not hungry."

Tim froze. Then he glanced around himself as quickly as he could before zeroing in on the form of the albino "cat" sitting on top of a large A/C unit just a few yards away from him, its white body practically glowing against the cloudy night sky of Gotham City. This close, Tim could see this was not a normal "cat". It did appear to have two sets of ears, but the two longer rabbit-like ones had golden rings attached to them and were tipped in pink with red spots. Its tail also appeared to be unnaturally long as it swished back and forth casually.

"Did you... just... talk?"

The cat-like creature flicked its smaller pointy ears. "Of course I did!" it said in a childlike voice without moving its mouth at all. Its long white tail finally stopped swishing and settled into a question mark shape behind it. "How else am I supposed to introduce myself?"

---

Tim Drake gave up caffeine for the rest of the week. When the boy returned to the Cave from patrol and declared that he was quitting cold turkey, Alfred asked about it curiously. All the old butler got from the thirteen year old was a confusingly vague answer about talking albino cats with pink ears and clearly not enough sleep with too much stress before marching himself into the showers before he would make his eventual way back to his bedroom.

---

Unfortunately for Tim, giving up his favorite sodas, teas, and coffee did not stop the appearances of the strange cat-like hallucination that had introduced itself as "Kyubey" and seemed hell bent on following him and talking to him both day and night, in and out of uniform.

"You think I'm a figment of your imagination?"

Tim sighed as he reached over the creature sitting in his high school locker in order to grab his workbooks for math and english. "I'm not talking to you here," he whispered as he slammed the locker door in hopes of locking the hallucination behind it.

"It's probably better that you don't, at least not out loud," Kyubey agreed, after reappearing on the top of the locker to look down on Tim. "If people catch you talking to something they can't see, they might think you're losing your mind."

Somehow, Tim managed to choke down the near hysterical giggle that wanted to bubble up at that matter-of-fact remark. Kyubey had made it quite clear that night on the rooftop that no one else could see them except Tim.

"Besides, why waste your breath?" Kyubey said as they trotted along the top of the lockers, keeping pace with Tim as he walked to his next class. "We can speak telepathically just fine."

Tim paused at the end of the lockers and glanced at Kyubey. "Telepathically?" he asked experimentally without voicing the word.

"See! Easy!"

"Oh my god, I AM losing my mind," he thought with a grimace before sighing and stepping into the classroom and tried to ignore Kyubey as best he could for the rest of his school day.

---

"So why are you here?" Tim finally asked Kyubey after tossing down his pencil and finally giving up on trying to concentrate on his homework. "What is my subconscious trying to tell me?"

"I'm not your subconscious, and I'm not a hallucination. I'm a messenger of magic."

Tim raised his eyebrows at Kyubey as he echoed incredulously, "A messenger of magic?"

The cat-like creature made themself comfortable on Tim's bed. "That's right."

The teen noted with a slight measure of concern that he could see the disturbance Kyubey's form made on his pillow and blanket, proving that, at least right now, they had a solid physical state. Still, he was not about to reach out and try to touch the creature. "I'm probably going to regret asking this, but why is a 'messenger of magic' in Gotham City, and why am I the only one who can see and speak with you?"

"I'm on a mission to find people with the potential to become Magicka Knights to fight Witches and save the Universe, and you have that potential."

"Seriously? Magical knights? Actual witches?" Tim shook his head as he scoffed lightly. "This sounds like the plot of some generic magical girl anime."

Kyubey titled their head to one side. "And you and your mentor go out at night in masks to fight criminals who can control plants, have freeze guns, are living clay, and are occasionally half reptiles. How is that more believable than Magicka Knights and Witches?"

Tim snickered awkwardly. "I guess I'm in no position to throw stones in glass houses."

"You really aren't."

---

Finally! Bruce was back from his Justice League mission and he was going to go out on patrol with Tim. Batman and Robin flying through Gotham City for the first time in over two weeks.

At least that was the plan until a call came through from Oracle barely an hour into their patrol.

"A report of potential Joker gas exposure has been put out by the GCPD in Chinatown near the Dragon's Den."

Batman and Robin paused on the roof of St. Peter's Cathedral. Tim felt a weight settle in the pit of his stomach as he took in the tightness of his mentor's jawline. He knew what was coming next.

"Go home, Robin."

"But B--"

"It's the Joker. I need to handle this alone."

"You don't have to. I can stay out of the way and watch your back. Make sure no one gets the drop on you."

Batman shook his head. "Head back to the Cave, Robin."

The leather of Robin's gloves creaked a little as he clenched his hand into a fist and turned away from his mentor. "Fine."

Without even looking, Tim could tell when he was left alone on the cathedral's roof with just the gargoyles for company.

Then, he wasn't alone.

"He doesn't trust you?"

Tim looked up to see Kyubey sitting on the head of a nearby gargoyle. He sighed. "It's not like that," he said telepathically. No need to risk Oracle or Agent A overhearing him talking to Kyubey. Not like the mic would pick up the magical creature's voice anyways. Still, better safe than sorry. "The Joker is really dangerous. He killed the Robin who came before me. B just doesn't want to risk me being anywhere near him."

Suddenly, Tim heard a pinging from his comm link, a sign that Oracle was attempting to signal him. "Yes O?"

"I know B ordered you home, but do you think you could swing by Amusement Mile along the way? I got a report on a Mad Hatter sighting there."

Tim brightened visibly at the prospect. "Sure!" He reached for his grapple gun and loaded a cartridge. "Any idea what he's up to?"

"There have been earlier reports over the last few months of missing girls fitting the Hatter's preferred victim profile. Children with long blond hair under the age of twelve. But since the children are usually street kids or runaways, most attempts to investigate by the police have been half-hearted at best. Those that have tried haven't found anything but dead ends."

"Well, that's going to come to a stop tonight." Tim declared confidently.

"Be careful Robin," Oracle warned. "Focus on recon tonight. Don't engage Hatter unless absolutely necessary."

"Understood!"

---

"What's this?"

At Amusement Mile, Tim was just in time to stop a kidnapping in progress. While the sudden appearance of Robin was enough to send the Mad Hatter scurrying away into the shadows, the young vigilante reluctantly let him go in favor of caring for the victim, a child of eight or nine who appeared to be in a catatonic state.

However, nothing Tim did seemed to be able to wake her up. He was about to notify O to call an ambulance when he noticed a small red mark, like a tattoo, on the girl's neck, right above her pulse point. It was about the size of a quarter and looked like the symbol used in chess to designate the Queen piece.

"Hey O. I found a weird tattoo on the girl. Sending you a pic now." Tim quickly snapped a photo and sent it electronically to Oracle. A moment later, he got a response.

"Are you sure you sent me the right photo?"

"What do you mean?"

"There's no tattoo in the pic. All I see is a bare neck."

Tim opened the monitor of his camera and his eyes went wide. Even on the camera, the girl's neck had no tattoo. He took several more pics to be sure, but despite being able to see the crown icon with his own eyes, they defied being photographed.

"Not sure what's going on, but I can't take a pic of it," he told Oracle. "Maybe it's some sort of weird ink that comes up invisible on cameras?"

"That's not it."

Tim glanced at Kyubey, who was sitting beside the girl. The white creature sniffed at the tattoo. "That's a Witch's Kiss."

He felt his chest tighten a bit at Kyubey's words. Tim carefully masked the sudden nervousness he felt in his voice. "Can you call an ambulance to pick up the girl? I'm going to investigate the area and try to find out where Hatter ran off to."

"Will do. Be careful."

Once the comm was silenced again and after the EMTs came to pick up the rescued child, Robin backed into a secluded alleyway and hid within the shadows before addressing Kyubey telepathically.

"What's a Witch's Kiss?"

"It's a mark used by Witches and familiars to control the minds of their prey."

Tim felt a shiver run down his spine. Still he continued. "Is... the Mad Hatter a Witch?"

Kyubey tilted their head thoughtfully before shaking in the negative. "No. I think he's just a familiar being used to bring humans to a Witch's Labyrinth."

"Why? Why would a Witch want a human child?"

Kyubey sighed. "A Witch is a creature that feeds on misery and sadness," they said very matter-of-factly. "What could be more delicious to a Witch than the grief and fear of a kidnapped child? At least this one seems to prefer the despair of children in particular."

A sudden sensation of dread settled over Tim. "That's.... That's horrible! We can't let this continue!"

"But you can't stop them."

"Why not?" Tim's righteous indignation flared up. "Batman's stopped the Mad Hatter dozens of times. Why can't I?"

"Most likely it's because your mentor has never captured him near his Witch, and never within an actual Labyrinth." Kyubey stared at Tim with their round red eyes, their stoic tone never wavering. "You're just a human being, and so is he under all that armor. Even with all your training, there's no way your frail human bodies can endure the strain of fighting a Witch and their familiars in their own Labyrinth. If you get trapped in a Labyrinth, there's no way out until either the Witch is dead or you are."

Tim watched the retreating lights of the ambulance carrying the nearly kidnapped child away. Then he took a deep breath and released it slowly.

"Can you help me find the Witch's Labyrinth?"

"I can."

---

He was going to die.

Tim leaned against the wall and watched helplessly as his blood flowed freely from beneath and between his fingers to pool on the floor under him despite the pressure he tried to keep on the wound in his stomach. The Witch's familiars, not just the Mad Hatter, but a March Hare and other fictional characters pulled straight from the story Alice in Wonderland, had been too numerous and too merciless for him to fight off alone.

The Witch herself, in the guise of a twisted Queen of Hearts, shrieked for his head through the twists and turns of her Labyrinth.

͙̹̫ͪ̆̏͝ "̶͚̜̪̣̬͇ͭ͑ͅOͩͫ̄͏̬͖̳ Ḟ̖̝̟̜͖̭͑͢ F̡̜̼̰͓͍̟͎͇̆̾̐ ̨͚̫̗ͮ̚ͅ W̐ͧ̑͏͍͎͍̖̤̥ͅI͓͙̤͔̺̦͌̓̌̍͠T̖͍͒͛͢H̡̳̪̭̹̺̒̓̿ ̹̥͉̟͙̝͓̅ͫ͝H̸̝̬̘͕̩͙̤͇̾ͥ͂Į̯͔̦͖̳̣ͥ̌͆̂S͆̑ͪ͏̦̥̭̺̞̳̪͔ ͙̪̯͗̑͞Hͧ͏̤̯̪̩ E̶̯̣̰͌̆ͨͯ A̬̦̻͍͒͝ͅD̖̹͂͒͟ !ͫͯ́͆҉̺̦̩̹̺

̠͓͈͎ͧͨ͡Ō̵̪̻̭̩̯F̣͙̲̖̈́̋͝ F̌̅̾̓͏̭̺̰͉̹̖̯ ̡̮͔͇͚̬͎̝͊̆ͪͅŴ͙̠̽ I̘̬͇̖͑͂̏̂͞ T̨̗̫̜͙̩̖̮͒ H̴̙̝̀ͥͣ̚ ̘̯̮̺̥ͣ̑̄H̻̭͇̮̮͕͗͗ͬ̊͠ͅ Iͮͪ͋͏̬̺̖̝̥̭̘ͅ S̵̝̖̙̿ ̛̬̳̠̪̰̑͗̽ H̸͙̟̱̝̳̰̄͑̃̊ Ě̳͓̝̗͎͟ A̴̤͖̬̖͓͇̖͗̆ͫ́Ḋ̜͚̬̐̋͟!̨͇͚̞̩͚̗̣̿

Ơ͚̹̜̥ͮͥ͑̏F̴̯̤̮͉̰ͫF͈̱͍̌ͩͥ̍̕ͅ ̧͎͕̱͚͍̥͔̐W̩̦̯̹̏͊̏̌̕I͐҉͕̪͔̥̞̭͈̲T̖̝̖̪̑̿̓͢H̤̠͍̣̻̠͚ͧ̍̐̿͢ ̴̲̖̫̫̺ͭH̗̤̒̆͆͡Î̤͓̭̻̝Š��̵̦͉͔͙̗̝̍ͬͅ ͎̫͉̞̲͆͡Ḫ̨̪̅ͧ̏E̵̮̲̩̤͓̱̙ͦÁ̻̦̘̜̂ͩ͝D̸̯͖̦͔̲͕̠̜̓̓̆̚!̨͖̓̐̈́ͪ̏ͅ҉̬͉̰̫"̙̺̬̯̹̦͖͛͗͘

Her magic.. too powerful.

His… everything... too weak.

Trapped in this magical Labyrinth that resembled a scene from Wonderland, he couldn't even get a signal out to call for a rescue. He'd tried early on to call Oracle... Nightwing... Agent A... Batman... But the only thing he got for his troubles was static.

Tim felt tears flow down his cheeks as his vision became dark and hazy around the edges and his limbs began to grow numb. He could hear the sounds of his pursuers coming closer, searching for him, and he just didn't have the strength anymore to run. All he could do was hide and wait for the inevitable.

Batman was going to lose another Robin.

Dick was going to lose another little brother.

Jack Drake was going to lose his only son.

He was going to die.

"Oh dear. I was almost too late."

A set of dainty white paws walked into his sight line, contrasting starkly against the pool of crimson blood on the floor. Weakly, Tim lifted his gaze.

"Kyubey?"

The magical creature stepped closer to the fallen teenager and took a seat in front of him. They tilted their head slightly. "I tried to warn you. A normal human isn't able to fight a Witch. Only a Magicka Knight has the power to defend against a Witch's curses and attack them in kind."

"I know," Tim whispered. "I should've listened to you."

Kyubey titled their head to the other side. "It's not too late. You can still listen to me."

Despite the cold feeling in his limbs and the shadows in his vision, Tim did his level best to keep his gaze locked on Kyubey, on the one bright spot in his dying world.

"If you enter a contract with me, you can become a Magicka Knight." Kyubey explained. "You'd be duty bound to fight Witches, but in return I can grant you one wish. Anything in the world your heart desires."

"If I become a Magicka Knight, I'll have to fight this Witch right away, right?"

"I'm afraid so. It's the only way to escape her Labyrinth."

"And there's no guarantee I'll win?"

"I won't lie to you. Turning you into a Magicka Knight is not a promise of victory. But at least you'll have a fighting chance."

Tim closed his eyes and smiled sadly. "Then I want to make a wish that can outlive me, in case I die." When he opened his eyes, tears slipped down his cheeks again. "I wish Bruce Wayne's son, Jason Todd, was alive."

Kyubey's round red eyes seemed to shimmer in the darkness, and the twin gold rings that encircled their longer set of ears started to glow brightly even as Tim's vision finally faded into blackness. As his consciousness slipped away, he heard Kyubey's voice, as if it was very far away.

"As you wish."

---

"Dinner was great, Alfred. Thank you." Tim set down his fork and watched as the kind old butler retrieved his dirty dishes.

"Will you be heading out with Master Bruce this evening?"

Tim got to his feet and placed the cloth napkin that had been on his lap onto the table, though he fidgeted with it a little before finally letting it go. "'Fraid not. B wants me to stay in and 'do my homework'."

Alfred gave him a knowing compassionate look. "I see. Well, if you want to take your dessert upstairs to have while you work on your homework, I'll allow it for tonight. If you need anything else, I'll be in the Cave on comms tonight..

"Thanks Alfred," Tim said with a smile and a quick side-hug. "You're the best!"

Tim made his way upstairs with a small plate of cheesecake topped with strawberries. Once in his bedroom, he closed the door behind him with a sigh.

"Bruce isn't letting you patrol again tonight?"

The teenager glanced over and watched as Kyubey unwound itself from the fluffy white ball it normally curled into while it napped on Tim's pillow. Tim couldn't help the fond smile as his little friend stretched leisurely and indulged in a wide mouthed yawn.

"Nope. He's still got his cape in a twist over Jason's whole empty grave thing." Tim shook his head before making his way to the window seat and making himself comfortable. "I think he just wants to make sure I don't wander off either, but it's still annoying! It's been nearly a month and B still won't let me go on any solo patrols."

"Well, look at the bright side. Now you can get a full night of sleep and wake up early to go Witch hunting before school."

"I suppose."

Tim and his sullen mood weren't alone for long at the window before Kyubey leapt gracefully from the bed to his shoulder. The startled expression on Tim's face lasted only a second before it melted into one of amusement as Kyubey headbutted him affectionately against the cheek. Once they'd managed to wring a chuckle out of the boy, Kyubey hopped down to the window seat where Tim had placed the cheesecake and began sniffing at the selection. Tim watched as his friend picked up the reddest strawberry it could find and popped that into its mouth first, eating it with obvious relish. Then he looked out the window and thought back about the night he became a Magicka Knight, about the moment he set foot back in the cave after defeating his first Witch and claiming his first Grief Seed.

---

"Where have you been?!"

Batman had stormed up to him the moment Robin pulled up on his motorcycle into the Cave. Tim froze the moment he saw his mentor barrelling toward him. "You're back already?"

"The Joker gas was a false alarm," Bruce said as he pushed back his cowl and grabbed Tim by his upper arms, Tim was startled by the frantic way Bruce's eyes were darting over him. "Where were you?! Barbara sent you to investigate a Hatter sighting, then you didn't check in for hours! It's nearly sunrise. Where have you been?!"

Tim swallowed hard. "I... I got lured into a maze trap by Hatter," he admitted quietly. "The place had some weird interference so my comms were scrambled. Hatter got away and it took me forever to find my way out. I'm sorry."

"Are you hurt?"

Tim shook his head. "I'm fine B. Just... tired. It... was a really long night."

After another long moment of Bruce looking over him, the older man finally seemed to relax. He released his hold on Tim's arms and raked his fingers through his cowl-mussed hair. "Please don't go running off like that ever again, Tim. If anything had happened to you--"

"I know," Tim murmured, his eyes focused on the floor even as he wrapped his arms about himself tightly. "I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

"Master Bruce?"

Both Bruce and TIm turned to see a shaken Alfred coming toward them with a phone in hand.

"What's wrong?"

"Commissioner Gordon is on the line."

Bruce and Tim shared a confused look. "Why is he calling at this hour?"

Alfred swallowed hard. "He needs 'Bruce Wayne' to come to the precinct as soon as possible. There's been a robbery."

"I don't under--"

"Someone broke into Gotham Cemetery tonight. They stole Master Jason's body."

As Bruce immediately went after Alfred as the old man gave him the phone, Tim stood in the Cave in shock before daring to glance at Kyubey, who had materialized at his heels.

"My wish... It really came true?"

Kyubey curled their tail around Tim's legs in a comforting gesture. "Of course it did. We made a contract."

---

"I wonder where Jason is," Tim mused aloud as he continued to stare out the window. "I thought he would've come straight home. Bruce has looked everywhere. I've looked everywhere..." He looked at Kyubey who had taken a delicate bite of the cheesecake itself. "Do you have any idea where he went after I made my wish?"

Kyubey looked up at Tim, a curious tilt to their head as they stared back at him with their round red eyes. "I was with you in the Labyrinth when the wish was made," they said matter-of-factly.

Tim shrugged. "Yeah. I know... I guess I was just hoping... Well, I hope he's alright, wherever he is."

Quietly, Tim studied the new silver ring encircling the ring finger of his right hand as well as the green alchemical symbol of Mercury that was now on his fingernail. The small emerald gem inlaid within the ring itself shimmered with magic. With a smooth motion, Tim turned his palm up and the ring morphed before his eyes into a brilliant green gem encased in an intricate cage of gold, just like a faberge egg.

His Soul Gem. The source of his power as a Magicka Knight.

For several minutes there was nothing but a comfortable silence as Tim watched the swirling glow of his Soul Gem and Kyubey ate their fill. Once the plate was empty and their paws and muzzle were thoroughly cleaned, Kyubey trotted onto Tim's lap and laid down comfortably. Unconsciously, Tim began to stroke Kyubey's soft whilte fur with his free hand.

"I just hope Jason comes home soon," Tim said as he finally put his Soul Gem away, turning it back into his ring. "That way, he and Bruce can reunite, they can be a family again, and I can step away from being Robin so I can devote myself to being a Magicka Knight instead."

"In the meantime, it's not so bad for you to be both Robin and a Magicka Knight," Kyubey mused. When Tim glanced down at them, they continued. "You have to admit that nearly every night you go out on patrol as Robin, you stumble upon one or two Labyrinths. Even if we can't get to them immediately to flush out the Witch, at least we know where they are for later!"

Tim grinned. "Yeah. I guess there is a silver lining there." Impulsively, he picked up Kyubey and gathered them into a gentle hug. "Thanks for staying with me."

Kyubey nuzzled the underside of Tim's jawline. "Of course I'm staying with you. You're my Magicka Knight. We're in this together." Kyubey flicked their short pointy ears cutely. "Besides, it's not like Bruce or anyone else can separate us. You're the only one here that can see and hear me."

"I'm glad," Tim said. "It's nice to not be alone all the time." He smiled gratefully at Kyubey. "And it makes being grounded by Bruce easier to swallow when I've got you for company."

Then he glanced back out the window at the dark outlines of Gotham City's skyline when the appearance of the Bat-signal lit up the night sky above it. "Still--" he mused. "I really hope Jason shows up soon. I can't wait to meet him."

#au: kcmk #kyubey cursed magicka knights AU #fanfiction #crossover/fusion #pmmm au #dcu au #tim drake #kyubey #batfamily #batfam #batfam fanfic

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p4nkow · 5 years ago

Text

D is for Dangerous - part IV

Hey hi! It took me so long to finish this part but finally here it is. I really hope you guys are gonna like this second-to-last part of this fic. Let me know what you think of it!

Part I, Part II, Part III

Summary: driven by the desire of revenge, the reader tries to take down the man who ruined her life only to find out that her plan is an utter fiasco; however she meets a man that is gonna change her life and give her the chance of a lifetime

Warnings: use of weapons and a little bit of smut

You hoped the coldness of the water might’ve helped you clear your thoughts, distracting you. As you gave yourself a look in the mirror, water droplets were running down your cheeks, falling right in the sink. Your eyes, usually so cold and full of determination, were now the reflection of chaos. Lost and devastated — that’s how you felt.

I used to work for Kuklinski. No matter how hard you tried not to think at Four’s words, they kept echoing in your head. Not that you’d heard his story, given that you had literally ran off from him. You were starting to regret it, though, given that there was one simple question that was eating you alive.

Had he been part of the assassination of your parents?

As you moved your hair off your face your hands started to shake, perfectly describing how you felt just at the thought of Four being involved in it. Now that you finally knew why was he so mad at Kuklinski, you wished you didn’t.

You had to know more. You had to know if he’d killed your parents.

And that thought gave you the strength to get out of your room — even though you felt unsteady in your own feet, you forced yourself to keep moving. You felt like a robot, walking though the cold hallways of the building without paying attention to what was surrounding you.

And when you finally found yourself in front of Four’s door, it took you five minutes to find the will to knock. You closed your hand in a fist, trying to stop it from shaking as you waited for him to open it. Your thoughts were running wild and you were torn between the desire of punching him and the one of conforming him.

And when you finally heard the lock clicking, you still hadn’t made up your mind.

His green eyes immediately found yours. You lifted your chin as he clenched his jaw, unsure what to say. You tried to remain composed as you swallowed in vain, saying in an uncertain voice “Can I come in?”

Four didn’t reply — he limited himself to nod at your question and walk aside in order to let you come into his room. “I think it’s better if you sit down.”

You didn’t like the awkwardness of the moment but Four was right. You didn’t trust your own legs, so you sat down to his mattress. Your chest rise and lower as you took a deep breath, looking at your own hands in nervousness before looking up to meet his gaze.

”Did you?”, you immediately asked. You couldn’t wait any longer.

Four narrowed his brows. “What?”

It took you all the strength you had not to make your voice shake as you asked him in a cold tone “Did you kill my parents?”

Four parted his lips, as if he was trying to process your question. His golden hair was messier than usual and God knows how much he’d slipped his fingers through it during the last hour. “Bloody hell, Eight. No. No, I didn’t. I didn’t kill your parents. I have nothing to do with it.”

You wanted to believe him. You had to. The look in his eyes — so desperate and sad — suggested you that he was being honest, and you truly wished he was. You didn’t reply, you limited yourself to nod at his words. That’s probably what pushed him to add “Please, believe me.” His voice, so soft and low, almost broke at the end of the sentence.

Even though you were trying so hard to avoid it, your eyes became teary at his words. You hurried to get rid of the few tears that had escaped and you raised your gaze to meet him once again. “I do.” You nodded to confirm your words and then you softly said “I’m— I’m sorry I just ran off.”

Four nodded as he leaned against the wall in front of you, arms crossed in his chest as his eyes never left yours. “No need to apologise. It was a bit of a shock, I know.”

“Yeah.”

Four exhaled deeply and the two of you stood quiet for a while. His past seemed to upset him, you noticed it by the shade of his eyes and by the stiffness of his posture. The fact that you were forcing him to open up was killing you, but you had to know.

“I need to know, Four.”

“I know.”

“You know it’s fair—“

“Yes, it is”, he murmured as he picked up a chair and sat on it. Even though he was in front of you, he kept the distance, which allowed you to think clearly about his words. You weren’t yourself when Four was around you.

It took him some time before he could finally find the courage to start talking about his story. “I was born in England, I think you got that from my accent. And yeah, Harry is my brother. He’s three years younger than me. The surname and the family is all we have in common, though. We never really bonded.”

Hearing of the relationship he had with his brother made you think of Emily. You wondered how she was, what was she doing, if she was thinking of you.

You started thinking of a mini-version of Four, his golden hair flying everywhere as he ran in a big, green field. And you felt incredibly sorry at the fact that he hadn’t been as lucky as you in matter of family.

“I— uhm, I might have asked you before”, you stated as he paused his speech. “What’s your realname?”

Four smiled. It wasn’t one of those forced smiles you were obliged to do as a sign of courtesy. Oh no, you’d known Four enough to know that he only smiled when he genuinely felt like doing it. He cleared his voice, rubbing his hands and saying “Billy.”

“Billy”, you repeated. You slowly nodded, trying to process the news along with the rest of the shocking ones Four revealed you. “You look like a Billy.”

“You look like a Y/N.” Your name coming from his lips sounded so different. It’d been a while since you last heard the sound of your name and it was quite a weird feeling. You were surprised by the fact that he remembered it.

“You remember.”

Four narrowed his brows and gave you a little grin. “‘f course I do.”

Geez, you truly hoped your cheeks weren’t turning bright red.

You cleared your voice and you looked away from him, playing with your hands and staying quiet for a while. But then you broke the silence by saying “How did you and Harry end up working for Kuklinski?”

There were still important matters to deal with.

Four lowered his gaze and rubbed again his hands, probably trying to find the right words. “At the age of eighteen I moved to NY and joined this group of people — they were the only friends I had. We were pretty good at parkour, actually, and we decided to use our skills to do something. To gain some money, y’know. Our business had been going on for a while when suddenly one day Harry called me. I didn’t know he’d moved to the US too, but he proposed me something. A job. At the time the idea of gaining some money by doing something I was good at tempted me. I was young and naive.”

You were trying to remain impassive at his story, bu you were miserably failing. That was Kuklinki’s power. He gave you hope, money, a purpose, but then he fucked with your life. He didn’t care about anyone but himself.

When you met Four’s eyes, you noticed they’d changed into a different shade. Darker, even deeper. “I didn’t know what part of Kuklinski’s business Harry was taking care of, until the day of the party.”

“And what did you do?” Your words were nothing but a whisper.

Four pursed his lips. “I was his ears and eyes, informing him of his enemies’ moves. He used to call me ‘the skywalker’.”

You were about to make him a question but he preceded you. “I know what you wanna ask me, and no. He never asked me to check on your parents. I didn’t even know they were involved with him until One gave me your file and asked me to recruit you.”

“He has a file on me?”

Four gave you the typical ‘Seriously? Right now?’ look and you shrugged. “He has a file on each and everyone of us.”

You slowly nodded at his words and you bit your lower lip. “When did you join the group?”

“I’d been working for Kuklinski for a few months — we were in Kiev, me and some other guys. And my girlfriend.”

Girlfriend? “Well, ex-girlfriend. She backstabbed me”, he added.

You gave him a questioning look and he leaned towards the back of the chair. “We had to spy on a powerful enemy of Kuklinski who at the time was hiding in Ukraine. Of course we took some liberties, too. We’d been told that the Kalahari — a jewel worth millions, if not even billions — was hidden in the house of an important functionary. As we broke into his apartment, someone called the police. Right before running away I’d managed to find it — God knows if I needed the money it was worth. We ran away in a rush and we had to climb an old billboard that was coming apart. I made one wrong move — I held on an old wiring but it broke on one side.”

“Geez”, you whispered.

Four pursed his lips and nodded. “To make it short, I managed to hold onto the corner of a building and as I was holding the jewel in my mouth, I asked my girlfriend to grab my hand and help me. But all she cared about was the Kalahari, so she grabbed it. I fell for six floors, maybe even more, right into a building. One was there, he showed me his plan and he recruited me. Now I’m working for a cause I believe him, I’m free from Kuklinski and my backstabbing girlfriend, along with my brother, are still working for that son of a bitch.”

“Shit, I’m sorry.”

Four slipped his fingers trough his hair and sighed deeply. “The things I’ve seen, the horrible things he made me witness—”

Four’s voice broke right in the middle of the sentence. Your heart sank at the sight of Four’s sorrow and you stood up, walking towards him. You slipped your fingers through his blonde hair, closing you eyes. His pain was almost touchable.

He raised his gaze to meet yours and your hands slipped on his cheeks. His eyes were teary and it broke your heart. Four, who had always been so strong and cocky, was falling apart in your hands. You leaned towards him and whispered “I’m sorry.”

His lips were just a few inches away from yours, but you hurried to eliminate the distance between you. Just like the first time you’d kissed him, his touch was soft but firm. He immediately placed both his hands on your cheek and the two of you stood up without backing away.

There was a difference between the two kisses, though — he didn’t reject you. Four kissed you back, deepening the moment by pulling your body close to his.

The two of you started to move back towards the bed and you made Four sit on the mattress as you sat on top of him. Your face was just a few inches away from his and his lips were so close that they almost grazed yours. In his beautiful, green eyes there was a look that you’d never seen before. The kind of look that makes you feel like if you have butterflies in your stomach.

He cupped your cheek and touched your nose with his, finally kissing you again. His touch was so soft that it gave you the goosebumps. You immediately leaned towards him, but you didn’t want to rush the situation. It was just as perfect as it was going.

Your hand slipped to his neck and then inside of his shirt, making your fingers run through his bare back. At the same time, Four’s hand was slipping through your arm with a soft touch.

His shirt was just being in the way, so you lifted it and took it out. His body was a masterpiece, with all his flaws. As you laid on top of him you gently grazed his torso, starting from his collarbone down to his lower muscles. You could feel his green eyes closely following your movements with caution.

He wanted you, you could feel and see that, and the sensation of his body pressed against yours did nothing but increase the need. But you had no chance to know how the strike could’ve been, what would’ve happened — it was a bloody dangerous mission. And that’s the reason why you wanted to enjoy every second with him, to feel at the very best all the emotions that his touch gave you.

“Eight”, he whispered, but sure as hell he wasn’t begging you to stop touching him. His hands moved to your hips, grazing your naked skin before getting rid of your tee. Four made his hands slip from your thighs to your chest, now only covered by your bra. His soft touch gave you chills and so you shrugged, making him giggle. “You’re so fuckin’ beautiful.”

You bit your lower lip at his words, placing your lips on his in a soft kiss. Your hands were exploring his chest — you just weren’t able to keep your hands to yourself.

Four explored your body, too. His calloused fingers grazed your back down to your sweatpants. You were starting to grow impatient so you backed away from his lips, placing your hand on his and pushing him to drop both your trousers and your panties. You stood up to get rid of them and right after they were long forgotten on the floor. “Bloody jeans”, you murmured as you tried to unzip them. Four giggled and helped you get rid of them in a hurry.

Your naked bodies fit perfectly and it felt so right. That thought left you breathless for a couple of moment so Four surrounded your hips with his arm and switched the positions, laying on top of you.

And immediately his hands were all over you, slipping from your bare chest to your belly and even further to your thighs. His green eyes were constantly checking on you, trying to spot the slightest change of mood, but you wanted him. You wanted him more than you have ever wanted anything or anyone in your life.

His soft and warm lips explored your chest, focusing on your boobs and teasing your nipples with his tongue. His gaze was so overwhelming that you had to look away, your hands gripping on the sheets as you tried to keep control. “No, love. Eyes on me.” He gently turned your head towards him as the other hand was firmly holding your hip.

You bit your lower lip and your hips automatically lifted against his touch as he gently kissed your lower belly. “So bloody beautiful”, He whispered.

“Four.” You couldn’t even recognise your own voice.

“You like that?”

You could feel the warmth of his tongue against your most sensitive zone and you just hummed in response — your breath was too heavy for you to say a meaningful word. His blonde hair gave you the goosebumps when touching your inner tight and you smiled at the memory of thinking how it’d have been to sink your fingers on it.

“You okay?”, He asked once he’d come back to your lips. His whispers and your heavy breath were the only sounds in the room.

You slowly nodded, almost begging “Please” before taking his face in your hands and placing your lips on his. He immediately kissed you back, deepening the moment and pushing his body against yours. He wanted you, and that’s exactly what his wood pressed against your lower belly was telling you.

And when he slowly sank into you his gaze never lost yours; your hands slipped through his bare back up to his neck, your fingers sinking between his blonde hair.

You surrounded his waist with your legs and crossed your ankles, trying to feel him as much as you could in each and everyone of his pushes. “Fuck, Y/N”, He murmured as he hid his face on your neck, his heavy breath caressing your skin as he kept sinking into you. He’d called you by your name, your real name, and if it wasn’t for the situation your eyes’d have become teary.

You both reached the culmination a few moments later, his green eyes never leaving yours as he grunted. When he laid down right next to you with a sigh, at first you were too worn off to say something. As the seconds went by you turned your head towards him, meeting his gaze already fixed on you. The sight of his tight smile made you chuckle, and he asked by widening his smile “What?”

“Nothing”, You said between the giggles.

“Was it bad?”

“Oh my god.” You hid your face on his neck and he surrounded your waist with his arm.

“Eight.”

“No, absolutely. It’s been great.” You placed your chin on his shoulder to face him.

“Good.” He pursed his lips but you could tell your words pumped up his ego.

“So, Billy”, you teased him with a grin.

“Yeah...”

“It’s lovely.” And you were being honest.

Four limited himself to just look at you, making you slightly blush. Your attention was caught by the scar that crossed his brow, so you slowly grazed it with the tip of your finger. “How did you get it?”

“Parkour isn’t exactly the safest thing on earth.”

“So you smashed your face.”

Four laughed again. “Yeah, sort of.”

“Can I ask you something?” A question had just popped in your mind.

Four limited himself to nod a ‘yes’ and you bit your lower lip, taking your time before saying “Why’d you reject me?”

His blonde brows were now narrowed in a questioning look. One of his hand was resting under his head and the light coming from the window made him look like Adonis. “Huh?”

“That day at the gym. You said that it was because of the stress I was under.”

“It wasn’t?”, He asked almost in a playful tone and you slapped him in his chest.

“’f course it wasn’t.”

Four pursed his lips and sighed deeply. “I felt guilty.”

“For what?”

“I used to work for the man that ruined your family, Eight. The look in your eyes every time his name was pronounced — I couldn’t forgive myself. I still can’t.”

His eyes were so clear and so honest that pushed you to place a hand on his cheek, making him look right at you. “I do, Billy. I forgive you.”

And the smile he gave you made your heart do a backflip. He didn’t reply, though. He kissed you, pressing your body against his.

One week ago you’d never thought to find yourself in this situation, but there you were. Right into Four’s arms.

His hand started to go up and down on your bare lower back, relaxing your muscles and making your feel even more comfortable. “Are you scared?”

He seemed to reflect on your question. “Just a bit worried.”

“You’ll be careful, won’t you?”

“And you won’t do anything stupid.” You were surprised to notice he’d realised how the strike made you feel. That it was something personal to you. You were going to face Kuklinski in a few hours and you were terrified. You were worried about your anger issues and you just hoped you weren’t going to screw things up.

But you were determined to take that motherfucker down so you confirmed his words. “No, I won’t.”

Fourteen days after the explosion – the day of the hit on Kuklinski

“Red really is your colour.” Five gave you a quick look from above her shoulder. Maybe she was right. The red dress you were wearing looked really good on you, but nothing compared to her and her green tube dress. She looked like a goddess.

Her hair was up in a fancy hairstyle but Two’d decided to make yours just slightly wavy.

“Isn’t it too much?”

She turned towards you and gave you the most confident smile you’d ever seen. “It’s never too much.”

You were about to leave for the strike and anxiety was eating you alive. You were determined to do it, but things could’ve gone terribly wrong. Your thoughts immediately led to few hours before, while laying in Four’s arms. In a different situation the thought of what you’d done would’ve made you blush, but not that night. You were worried sick.

Four had a major role in the strike and you just hoped he’d get away with it uninsured. The eight of you trained hard for this very special occasion, so you tried to stay positive. The plan was perfect in every singular detail.

“You look... différente”, Two said by looking at you with her eyes narrowed.

Her words caught Five’s attention, who simply replied “I’ll tell you what it is. She got laid.”

“She what?”, Two replied at the same time you almost screamed “Five!”

Your cheeks were bright red but thankfully you didn’t get the chance to continue the chat, thanks to a knock on the door.

“You girls ready?” One voice came muffled from behind the door. You exchanged a quick look with Two and Five before following them to the hallway. The heels you were wearing weren’t the comfiest thing ever, but you knew how to move. They weren’t that big deal.

When you got to the dining room, everyone was there. One was wearing a bulletproof vest and he was making sure that his guns were loaded. Two was standing right next to you and she was following closely Three’s movements — you were pretty sure they had something going on, too. The latter was tying his jacket with an amused grin on his face.

Then there was Four, in his typical jumpsuit and a black beanie covering his blonde hair. But it wasn’t his clothing that got your attention — his green eyes were all over your body. His intense staring brought back the memories of the previous day and you were sure you’d blushed hardwhen his eyes met yours. He winked at you and you shook your head in amusement, making your gaze run to the rest of the group.

Five was now chatting with Six and they were gesturing towards the gas can she was holding. Seven was on his own, closely cleaning his rifle in silence.

“Okay guys, it’s time.” One looked at each and everyone of you. The determination in his eyes made you actually believe that you could make it. That you could finally take Kuklinski down.

“Let’s do this”, Six said with a big smile, followed by Three who said “Ay papi, we’re gonna take that motherfucker down.”

“Merde à tous.” You didn’t speak french, but you smiled at Two’s words anyways.

“Y’all know what to do, so let’s go.” Seven was the first to get out of the door, followed by Five.

Nervousness was eating you alive and the thought of facing Harry — Four’s brother — and then Kuklinski did nothing but make you sweat even more. As the rest of the group left to the cars, you were about to follow them when Four grabbed your hand.

You gave him a look from above your shoulder, followed by a smile. “Be careful, ‘kay?”

Four tightened the grip on your hand at his words and you just pursed your lips, fully turning towards him.

You let go of his hand only to place it on his cheek, looking directly at his green eyes. “Please, please stay alive.”

Four exhaled deeply before placing his lips on yours. It wasn’t a soft, delicate kiss like the ones of the day before. He kissed you with passion and desire, with desperation, almost as if he never wanted to let you go. You truly wished you never had to leave, you didn’t want to get in that car and leave him behind to do his job,

But you had to.

So you backed away from him, caressing his cheek for the last time before clearing your voice and whispering “Let’s go.”

The ride to Kuklinski’s building was silent. Extremely silent, except for Six’s little taps on the steering wheel. It was just the two of you plus Five. Two and Three were coming on another car, One was directing it all from a roof as Four and Seven were taking their positions.

When you finally got there, you gave a last look at Six. He pursed his lips, holding the wheel a little tighter while saying “Good luck, girls. I’ll be waiting you.”

You smiled at him before getting off the car, standing right next to Five. You didn’t start walking and neither did she, so you turned towards her. You didn’t say anything, but from the look in her eyes you knew she wanted to say something, too.

There was no time for pleasantries.

The earpiece was well hidden under your curled hair as you walked through the metal detector undisturbed. One was a bloody genius. You grabbed your briefcase and gave Five a quick look as she took a seat in the waiting area as you walked toward the reception.

“Good morning. How can I help you?” A blonde, middle-aged lady politely smiled at you.

“I have an appointment with Mr. Longbourn.”

As the lady checked your words on her laptop, your hands were starting to sweat for the nervousness. You forced yourself not to give a look around you, trying not to look suspicious, and the lady looked right at you only a few seconds after. “Mr. Longbourn is ready for you, Miss. His office is in the fourth floor.”

You thanked her in a whisper and a polite smile before walking towards the elevator. You knew there were cameras watching you as the elevator lifted, so when One asked you through the earpiece “Eight, you okay?”, you limited yourself to hum “Huh-huh.”

“Zip line secure”, you heard Four saying through the earpiece.

“It’s a good ride, One”, Seven said. Their chats were helping you not to overthink, distracting you. “A little scary up here, but...”

“Nah, this is fun. Don’t be a pussy, Seven”, Four immediately replied and it made you smile.

When you got to the fourth floor you switched off your earpiece, so that you could only communicate with One. As much as you wanted to hear Four and make sure he was fine, he was a distraction. A big one.

Harry’s office was easy to find — his name was written all over the wall glass. Funny how he was the exact opposite of his brother. At least Four wasn’t a bloody criminal. Not anymore, at least.

You knocked at the door before entering the room, getting ready to out in place the greatest play in the world. “Mr Longbourn”, you said with a smile, catching his attention.

His eyes moved from the laptop to you, but when his green eyes started to run all over your body, it was nothing compared to Four. Harry’s staring repulsed you. “It’s Harry for you, my dear.”

He shook your hand and you took a seat in one of the chairs right in front of his desk. Now that you knew his story, you could tell that he was trying to hide his English accent by faking an American one. Little did he know.

“I recall that you’re leaving for an international meeting tomorrow, am I right?” You really wished he wasn’t Four’ brother so that the group could take care for him because of his actions.

You faked a smile. “I am, indeed. You recall correctly.”

“You’re even prettier than the last time I saw you.”

Filthy bastard. You truly hoped Four wasn’t paying attention to your little chitchat with his brother. “Thank you, Harry.”

“So”, he said by rubbing his hands “what have you got for me?”

You never had the chance to reply because of the gunshots. A lot of them, probably coming from the lower floor. Harry’s attention had been caught by them and he didn’t notice you extract a gun from your briefcase. “Hands up”, you said with a grin by pointing the gun at him.

His brows were narrowed in surprise, his lips parted because of the shock. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“I said hands up”, you repeated in a higher tone, given that he hadn’t done as ordered.

Harry placed both his hands on his head and you carefully walked towards him, still pointing the gun at him as you searched him looking for a weapon. You clicked on the earpiece and told One “Harry’s clear.”

“Good”, he immediately replied and you noticed he was out of breath. “Bring him to the meeting point.”

You heard other gunshots as you tried to avoid Harry’s shocked gaze. “Who are you?”

The tip of your gun was pressed against his back and when he gave you a look from above his shoulder you simply said “I’m Eight. Now shut up and walk or I’ll make you.”

“I did nothing wrong”, he tried to justify himself.

“Yeah”, you puffed. “Nothing at all. Try telling that to the families of all the people who’ve died because of you and your fuckin’ boss.”

On your way to the upper floor you met one of Kuklinski’s guard. Right before he could shoot at you, you killed him. It was wrong, so bloody wrong, but it had to be done. He fell to the ground like a puppet. Harry gasped and you tried not to think about what you’d just done. “Eight, the floor is clear. You’re free to move”, Seven told you through the earpiece.

Holding Harry’s shirt with one hand and the gun with the other, you walked upstairs. Your senses were on alert, ready to spot the slightest movement of your enemies. Harry didn’t say anything, but on the last step of the stairs he turned towards you. He tried to disarm you by bending your arm — he might’ve had the brute force needed, but he wasn’t trained like you and sure as hell he wasn’t thinking clearly.

Your grip on the gun was firm when you pushed away Harry’s arm and kicked him right in the undercarriage, making him grunt of pain. All you had to do was push him a little to make him sit down on the stairs and you pointed your gun right at his head. “Tell me, Harry. Have you ever watched Chicago?”

“What?” He was seriously confused.

“Chicago”, you replied. “The musical with Catherine Zeta-Jones and Renée Zellweger.”

“Yeah, I guess so?”

You leaned towards him so that your face was just a few inches away from his, but you made sure your gun was still pointed at his forehead. “You try to do that one more time, and you’ll end up like one of those boys. I may be a girl, but sure as hell I’m stronger than you. I can still blow your head off.”

Where did those words come from? This wasn’t you.

The sound of broken glasses made you smile, giving you the sign that the plan was proceeding as planned. “Eight, you okay?”

You sighed in relief by hearing Four’s voice. You forced Harry to stand up and you pushed him into the room where Two and Three were waiting. You spotted them in the distance but you couldn’t see them clearly. “I’m fine, yeah. Where the hell are you?”

“Got stuck at the roof. I’m on my way.” And by doing so he switched off the earpiece.

Thank God Four was fine.

“The floor’s clear, Eight.” Seven was monitoring the situation in the distance and you just nodded at his words.

Only when you walked towards Two and Three you noticed they were pointing their guns right at Kevin Kuklinski. You froze right behind Harry, your hands starting to shake at the sight of the men that had killed your parents.

“Eight.” Two caught your attention and you slowly moved your gaze to her. She nodded at you, silently saying to move closer to them.

So you did — you pushed Harry who complained quietly and you made him sit down to a chair right next to Kuklinski.

It was the latter who broke the silence by saying “I know you.”

Now that Harry was being monitored by Three, you could finally look at Kuklinski. “Do you remember me?”

Those bastard’s eyes — so dark that they seemed black — were fixed on yours. You had your father’s eyes and he’d probably recognised them. “Y/L/N”, Kuklinski said with a smirk. A strand of grey and black hair had fallen into his forehead and if he didn’t have his hands tied, he’d have probably moved it.

“In the flesh.” You tightened the grip on your gun, holding it with both hands.

“I remember your parents. How silly they’ve been in trusting me.”

Your knuckles had turned white and you were trying to contain yourself. Without looking away from him and his cold eyes, you asked Two “Where’s One?”

“On his way.”

“Fuck.”

“They got what they deserved”, Kuklinski kept going. What was he trying to do?

“Shut the fuck up.” You switched on the earpiece. “One, where the hell are you?”

All you heard from the other side were gunshots.

“Do I know you?” Harry had a very bad timing.

Footsteps were approaching you and they caught Three’s attention. Kuklinski’s guards were more numerous than you expected and they just kept coming. “Shut up, Harry.”

“We killed her parents”, Kuklinski said with a grin. “You should’ve heard them begging for mercy.”

That was enough. Without thinking twice about it, you pointed your gun at Kuklinski and fired. Again and again. The thud of the gunshots was echoing in your ears and you felt numb. You just couldn’t feel anything.

“Hey”, Two said by placing a hand on your shoulder. “He’s dead.”

Without even realising it your eyes’d become teary, you bit your lower lip to make it stop shaking and you lowered the gun.

Kevin Kuklinki was finally dead. He’d gotten what he deserved and it felt so good. So right.

It wasn’t the right time for celebrations, though. Half of the group was still in trouble, and there was still Harry to be taken care of.

“Four?” No answer. You exchanged a quick look with Two and Three but they just shook their heads. “Four?!”

When Four finally replied, your heart sank. “He’s gonna kill me.”

Taglist: @maccasbeard @radiob-l-a-hblah @queen-turtle-boiii @desperatelytryingtosavemyself @sara-1705 @queen--sherlock @allthethingsicant @hells-personal-bitch @owensgrxdy @amy-brooklyn99 @dep-thx @ken-yee-not @mazzelloqueen @caborhapch @jonesyaddiction @mightbeidfkalien @pink-lemo @dreamingaboutyousworld @multi-fandom-iimagines @just-bookish @simonedk @roseslovedreams @dreamingaboutyousworld @cheeseedreams47 @hyungbean @livesnearthecity @blushingwueen @ariesxslytherin @grave-details

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#ben hardy #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy fic #6 underground #6 underground fic #six underground #roger taylor #roger taylor fic #roger taylor x reader

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evangelene · 6 years ago

Text

Despite What You Are (4)

Summary: Vampires don’t feed on blood, they feed on fear. So, why is yours so potent? Why were you saved by the most dangerous of all vampires–Kim Namjoon?

Based on this request:

“Can i ask for a ff where namjoon is a vampire mafia boss and has a spft spot for you. And you get into trouble woth a rival gang and he goes crazy? Fluffy and angsty 🌹”

Part One / Part Two/ Part Three / Part Five

“So, what do you think?”

Seokjin stood proud, as if he had just made the discovery of a lifetime. In reality, all he had really done was walk outside to find a shed that looked far less like a livable plot of land and more like a busted maid’s quarters from the expired centuries past. Once more, you were infinitely curious as to what sort of complex this place had been before the War of 2048.

It didn’t help that the shed/hillbilly-cannibal prep station was surrounded by a thick grove of trees that shouldn’t be there but were anyways.

Kind of like you.

Funny how one could relate to some moss, bark and leaves.

Despite the lackluster appearance of your soon-to-be hospital, you couldn’t really complain (much). After all, you were finally allowed to go outside! How great!

It would have been nicer if you didn’t have to have a guard within arm’s reach of you at all times. Oh, and you definitely weren’t allowed within twenty feet of the story and half tall fences—despite them being stronger than a vampire and capped with barbed wire.

Apparently, one of Jisung’s gang (clan? You guessed it was a clan now?) had the ability to teleport.

They wouldn’t tell you what Jisung’s ability was though…probably because he didn’t have one before he walked out and became clan leader.

“It’s just a small clan. They will be crushed easily.”

The boys had tried to persuade you, but there was something entirely unsettling about how absolutely quiet Namjoon had been in the corner, his eyes lost in space somewhere out the window.

Comforting, especially to a human who jumped when the wind rustled the leaves in the trees a bit too rough for her liking.

“Y/N.”

You jolted your attention back to Seokjin, giving him the weakest yeahtotallywasn’tscaredatall smile you could manage. “It’s great.”

With a deep sigh and a roll of his eyes, he yanked open the door to the shed; it look like it required muscle—even for a vampire (you blamed it on the fact that nature looked like it had tried to glue it shut with some unholy substance). “Just take a look inside, would you?”

So…the inside was even worse than the outside, which was saying a lot since the roof looked like it was about to slide off the structure entirely. As you stepped up, you were surprised to find that your foot didn’t immediately crack through the rotting wood; however, that didn’t prevent you from having to hopscotch around already existing holes, rat shit, and poisonous smelling black mold. The place itself was dusty and unkempt to the point that it screamed “disease.” But, you know, you were fine with it.

As far as you were concerned, it was far enough away from the main complex building and it wouldn’t allow any vampires to access any of the fear you may exude. Another plus: it had a sink so Seokjin could like…you know…sanitize things? You didn’t really know much about medical shit, which was probably why you were on your deathbed months ago.

Yay for you being a helpful and self-sufficient human being.

“I mean, we can make it good.”

Seokjin chuckled. “Of course I will make it acceptable. I am aware of how easily humans fall ill—I won’t allow it to be anything but sterile.” You sent a look over your shoulder that had Seokjin frowning. “Are you doubting my abilities now, of all times?”

“I’ve seen you heal, not clean. Besides, what are you going to do? Vacuum the spores from the air?”

“It will need to be aired out for a bit anyways—speaking of that, you should probably get out of there for now.”

You were on the same level as a feline and therefore gave no fucks for the vampire who could easily yank you out by your pinkie if he so chose to. Instead, you used the sleeve of your sweatshirt to dust off the one and only table in the shed; surprisingly, the furniture itself wasn’t nearly as compromised as the actual foundation of the building.

“Y/N. Out.”

“Woof.” You glared at him from your musty seclusion, slowly parkouring your way back out the door and onto semi-solid grass.

He seemed to age in that moment, even though vampires really…don’t…they just kinda die looking hot and young and shit. How nice. You blamed it on the poor man having to deal with your constant bullshit.

But, then again, if you had to listen to his puns then he had to put up with your tantrums.

“So it’s just going to sit there for a week or whatever while you guys go off and do your dangerous top secret mission?”

“Pretty much.”

“You know, I really hate secrets.”

He let out a bark of a laugh, his hand placed between your shoulderblades in order to guide you forward—well aware that you’d already taken a spill once already (stupid tree root) and had a 99.9 percent chance of repeating your mistakes. “You’re one to talk with the one you’re keeping.”

“He keeps far more than I do. It’s not fair.” You frowned at the ground, keeping your gaze cast down in order to prevent a sequel to the greatest fall of the century. “I prefer transparency; I’ve had enough secrecy in my life.”

“You are still useful, Y/N.”

A shudder ran its way up your spine.

“He has reasons for keeping things from you. You are not ready to see him feed; you are not ready to learn what he does when he’s away from you. The missions he does--the business he conducts--you are far more fragile than we are.”

“I’m not a fucking flower.”

“Physically, you may be able to handle more than we suspect; but, do remember, you had just jumped out of your skin due to naturally occurring wind. Would you be able to hold yourself back at the visual of a human being tortured in front of you?”

You pressed your lips into a line.

The tip of the tree hung down from his chest, broken by the impact of his body crashing backwards into it—despite the thick material of his vest and jacket. Human bodies contained so much blood, why didn’t you ever realize that before?

“So?” You dug your nails into your palms. “If it concerns me, then why can’t I know these things? You all are no better than humans.”

“You’re insulting yourself.”

“I’m good at self-deprecating humor.” You sighed, dropping your defense mechanism for the moment—but only the singular moment. “You know what I mean.”

“I do. Sometimes, your own species can be your worst enemy.”

There was a prolonged pause between the two of you, both of you walking in tandem but somehow still so far away from the other that you could have been on different planets.

“Part of me hopes that you’ll fail.” You murmured. “Part of me would rather go out like that—no pain and put under anesthesia. It’s easy. And then I wouldn’t have to…I wouldn’t…”

“There are bigger secrets you’re keeping from him than this one.” Seokjin didn’t word it as a question, as if he already knew everything swimming around the stagnant pool of thought in your head—he probably did. You briefly remember someone mentioning that he grew up with humans.

It wouldn’t surprise you if his emotions developed in a similar fashion to your own.

“I started to become more human being surrounded by vampires. Is that weird?”

“Yes.”

“It’s a rhetorical question you asshole, let me finish.” But he was repressing his laughter and you were huffing on a smirk as you cleared the trees. “I don’t want to feel those things anymore—I don’t want to remember what it’s like to be human, not when nothing good can come of it; not when there’s a chance I could lose it.” You paused at the door to the compound, soaking in the rays of sunlight while you still could. “Promise me you’ll bring him back safe.”

“He’s stronger than any enemy we could face out there, Y/N.” But he didn’t promise you, and that alone was enough for your stomach to constrict in the most unpleasant way. You could feel Seokjin’s gaze on the side of your face as you closed your eyes and faced the sun. Part of you hoped that the sun would smite you where you stood so you could escape everything—however, while you were fearful of living, you were even more terrified of death. “You love him, don’t you?”

“Denied.” You murmured without a second though, the metaphorical doors to your heart slamming shut so quickly it almost felt like you were shot point-blank in the chest. “I refuse to love something that can’t love me back. I can’t lose anything more in this life. I can’t lose him, and I can’t tell him that I can’t lose him. I can’t love him, and I can’t tell him that I can’t love him.”

“You are overcomplicating things, Y/N.”

You opened your eyes, squinting through the sun to meet Seokjin’s gaze. “I think that’s the one thing I’m truly good at.”

~.~

Namjoon refused to explain any part of his “mission” to you. And yes you totally put air-quotes and a stupid face to the word mission. To you, it seemed like bullshit; to you, it seemed like he was out doing the very same things that the human hunters did. To you, it seemed like he was keeping secrets and pulling strings behind your back.

To make matters worse for your worried and easily annoyed heart, he had to take all of the six with him.

Well, originally he had planned on leaving Taehyung, Hoseok, or even Seokjin with you—but, upon your inquiry of just how damn dangerous his stupid idea was, you forced him to have his entire crew by his side. You remembered how quickly his expression had darkened, the impassivity to his gaze that had you wishing that you could read his mind like he could read yours.

Idiot.

Then again, he probably just called you a bunch of terrible names in his mind just like you did in reference to him.

Despite your energy and your lack of understanding, you tried to be that™ person; you tried to be that™ supportive girl that stood by her loved person, waving them off with a handkerchief and tears glistening beautifully in her eyes. First off, you were never graceful in anything you did, and the old movies would never be you; that™ person would never be you.

You were too much of a salty, bitter hag. Salty because he wouldn’t tell you what he was going to do, nevertheless where he was going to do this mystery action; even saltier still because whatever incredibly dangerous thing he was going to do could be the end of him and, even in your anger, you wouldn’t be able to take not knowing where he went or what happened to him.

So, like the woman you were, you resorted to pursing your lips at him from the corner of the room as he gathered his things. Part of you wanted to see his face in case you forgot it, but the stronger part of you said that your actions were out of spite rather than anything else. You damn well wanted him to know just how pissed you were. Subtlety? You don’t know her.

“I can still leave Taehyung here with you—I…I don’t trust the others here with you.”

“Jiwoo’s here. I’m fine.” You grunted, arms tightly crossed over your chest.

“She doesn’t have any abilities. Taehyung could at least—“

“Namjoon.” There was something exhilarating about the power you had over him when you simply said his name—it was almost enough to dissolve your anger…almost. “Yoongi and I spoke about this when I said I wanted them all with you—he agrees that she has a hell of a survival instinct and an even greater protective streak. I will be fine; I’m locked up to holy hell in here anyways.”

Honestly, you remembered how quickly that conversation had went—Yoongi had offered her to you without a hint of hesitation. It was almost as if he didn’t care that his mate could possibly die for you if the situation arose. And here you were, with a mate who didn’t trust you with a fucking spoon.

You were sure your face was going to gain permanent wrinkles from frowning so intensely.

“You’re angry, why?”

Leave it to the vampire to be blunt.

“I’m not.” Yeah, Y/N. Good job. Continue to sulk like an absolute child because, of course, maturity is for LoSErS.

“Sure, but if I accept your words at face value then you will only become more angry. I am not stupid to you at this point. You’ve been here for over a half a year now.” He sighed, pulling on his jacket. “What is wrong?”

You cast your gaze to the floor, if only because he was now openly staring at you and your pride won over your anger—you couldn’t let him see you turning red at such an inopportune moment.

“Why can’t you just tell me what you’re doing? Or where you’re going?”

Part of you wanted him to be like human men, you wanted him to hold your face in your hands and kiss you and make you feel something other than this icy distance between the two of you. Maybe then you could take not knowing.

But that wasn’t the case, and you were infinitely reminded that this wasn’t a human man in front of you.

“This is what clan leaders do—they go out and stake their claim, mark their territory and make sure it is still theirs. You have no business here.”

Anger boiled under your skin and, god, did you really just want to smack him. But with the sheer amount of muscle in the monster man, you knew you’d hurt yourself more than you’d hurt him. “You’re not going out there to stake your fucking claim, Namjoon. I’m not stupid. I know you’re not telling me the truth.”

You could feel his stare burn into the side of your face, but you refused to meet it just to satisfy your petty rebellion. “I want you to be safe in all senses of the word. Can’t you be satisfied with that?”

“No.” You snorted. “I can’t.” Your hands were balling into fists, lips pressing into a line so thin you swore they might burst and disappear entirely. “I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t ask for your protection—I didn’t ask for you to be a clan leader, I didn’t ask for you to sacrifice your life for mine. What I asked for was your honesty.”

He paused for a second, clearly thinking out his words so that you wouldn’t continue to be mad at him. But, for a vampire still learning the complexities of the human mind, you were both well aware that he didn’t have the right toolkit to attack this problem.

“There’s a lot you can’t give me, and I’m learning to accept that. But like hell will I put aside the truth and accept your lies. What are you really going to go and do?”

It was your last lifeline, your last chance for him to grab the rope and tug him back into your good graces.

At first, it seemed like he was taking grasp of it with both hands, stepping closer towards you with intent--like he maybe was going to hold your hand, like he maybe was going to brush your hair off your neck and kiss your cheek. But, of course, he did none of those things.

Instead, he slipped past you entirely. “I promise we will return as soon as we can.”

By the time you calmed yourself enough to turn around, he was gone.

~.~

Jiwoo was a heaven-sent existence—despite being the very thing that fed on fear, you were convinced that she was an angel. It was her personal mission to make sure that you never felt alone, and that you were able to sort out all your feelings and complaints, allowing you to throw them all onto one vessel.

With her sweet smile and her unvampirely crave for contact; she was everything you needed in the wake of being pissed off at Kim Namjoon.

It was hard not to laugh as she grumbled to herself while setting up her side of the bed for the night. “I know he’s my leader, but he’s a prick.” She huffed, fluffing her pillow with slight violence only to freeze and stare at the door when there was a particular loud noise a floor below you two. There was a moment where she had offered to lay out a sleeping bag for herself on the floor, but when you offered to let her next to you, her eyes lit up and part of you wondered if maybe she could be your mate instead.

She understood your human needs far better than grumpypants.

“He wouldn’t let me visit with you as much as I would like, so I’m going to soak up every opportunity I can get.” She threw herself on the bed next to you, those bright eyes of hers boring into yours. “Maybe it’s a female thing, but I feel I can understand your thoughts a bit better than those dumb boys.”

“Maybe.” You chuckled. She was probably the exact opposite of Yoongi—far too bright, bubbly and touchy-feely for the man who recoiled at breathing the same air as another being. You paused for a second, wetting your dry lips with your tongue. “Can I ask you something?”

“No question is too strange for me.” She giggled. “Yoongi says that I ask too many weird ones that anything anyone could ask of me would seem normal in comparison.”

Somehow, you could see it. The girl radiated a personality that only existed in characters from outer space.

“Why are you so fascinated with me? I mean, I’m not really special—just your average human.”

She shrugged, moving to adjust herself into a comfortable sitting position. “Well, I liked what I saw when I first met you. And, well, I don’t really feed from humans because I pity them. I prefer the fear from my own kind—and Yoongi’s really good about making sure I can get fed enough from that alone.” She paused for a moment to ruminate on her words. “Humans…Well…I feel bad for hurting something so innocent for my own gain. They can’t even properly fight back.”

“Some do.”

“Even then, it depends on the human and their deeds—but it’s not like I’m really clued into those too well. Vampires…well, we’re often terrible beings. Maybe more so than humans.” She sighed. “But you, man, when you stood up to Jisung I swear I’ve never seen our leader more whipped for a being in his life. I wanted to know more about you because of that, too.”

Was it possible for a vampire to be vegetarian? Well, the vampire equivalent of the term. Was that cannibalism?

Honestly, you could have probably busted your last three braincells pondering a stupid label.

“Are there more vampires like you?”

Her eyes sparkled. “Probably. But they may all be dead. You and I, we are a rare breed—with mates powerful enough to ensure that we both survive.”

As you withdrew inside of yourself to contemplate the heft to her words, her hand reached out to grab your own, as if on instinct. “Humans are soft.” She murmured. “I like physical contact with them.”

“You are so weird.”

She only grinned wider at that.

For a moment you considered spilling everything to her—everything you couldn’t say to your mate, to humans, to anyone. You contemplated telling her your whole life story if only because there was a being there in front of you who looked so willing to eat it all in and learn everything there was to know about you.

This person was a vampire, and that was enough to stop you.

“There is something on your mind.” She hummed.

“Yeah.”

She cocked her head to the side. “Do you not trust me?”

You put your free hand up. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, Woo, I just…I don’t…I don’t think that you can understand me if I told you.”

“Okay.” She murmured. “I probably won’t, but its okay to tell me. My job in the clan is to not ask questions and make sure that things run smoothly. I am a glorified secretary; if there are things I am not supposed to know then I will not seek them out nor will I lose my trust if those secrets come into the light. I am supposed to tell my clan leader everything.” Her eyes scanned yours. “So it concerns him, does it not?”

“What in my world doesn’t concern him anymore?”

She chuckled, her grin faltering for a moment. “Y/N, I never said I was good at my job. Yoongi and I…we were a pairing mated by genes and not by choice—not that I mind, as I’m terrible with making decisions.” She licked her lips in the dry air. “I understand that feeling of wanting more.”

“You…” Your furrowed your brows, trying to find the right words even though the synapses weren’t fully connecting the loose ends to the equation displayed before you. “You don’t love Yoongi, do you?”

She pursed her lips, her eyes lost somewhere over your shoulder. “What Yoongi and I are certainly is not the same kind of bond that you humans call love. So if what you are worried about is how our clan leader cares for you, then I’ll have you know that I have never seen a vampire care for his mate to such extremes before. I’m jealous.”

Something that must have been akin to fear flashed through you quick as lightning, because Jiwoo’s eyes burst red for a second, narrowing in on you before dulling back to their neutral color. “I don’t want Namjoon, Y/N; don’t be afraid of that. I’m envious of the bond between you two, not what you hold—that connection, it seems so special.”

“Have you told Yoongi any of this?”

“No. I don’t see him enough to warrant it.” Her eyes softened. “Perhaps that’s why I enjoy your company, being with you annoys him enough for him to seek me out.”

Your eyes scanned her face, searching for hidden feelings and answers that she was slowly bringing to the surface. It was nice to feel a little bit less alone in a sea of people that made you feel like an anomaly. “We’re similar, aren’t we?”

Her gaze met yours. “We are.”

You tucked your lips between your teeth, trying to make yourself say the words. Trying to will yourself to let it out to her—if you could let it out to anyone, it would be her.

After all, she just indirectly told you her own personal traumas—why couldn’t you say the one thing that was always running through your head ever since you realized it enough to deny it whole-heartedly?

“I…I…”

“You love Namjoon.” She murmured, her irises bloodying to an intense crimson as you inhaled through your nose. When you said nothing, she only squeezed your hand. “Well, I can’t say that I was unaware of that, but maybe one day we’ll get you to say it out loud, huh?” She chuckled. “Then again, isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black, as you humans would say?”

~.~

Jiwoo did not have the luxury that the other vampires around you had—she had not been trained for years to accommodate human nature into her life. She was not one who was ready to easily adapt to a human friend and, therefore, she was unable to maneuver you through the compound with the grace that Namjoon and his six had.

AKA, every horror hid from you was unfolded in a searing burst of white-hot fear.

This was, after all, a place for vampires—not humans.

The blood, the bodies, the strewn bits and pieces of lives tortured and lost were not things that startled her.

You, on the other hand, were a different story.

Turning to vomit up your entire lunch into the nearest receptacle—because why would vampires have trash cans every four feet like humans?—you nearly didn’t make it and therefore missed the bright red flash of Jiwoo’s eyes as she furrowed her brow on you in concern.

“Y/N! What happened? Are you alright?” Her worry was a palpable presence in the air, smothering you much like she was doing. Contrary to the vampires you had met thus far, she seemed to think that contact was the salve to every ailment.

You screwed your eyes shut, desperately trying to erase the images of bruised and beaten bodies, parts of humans too mangled to identify. Corpses yet to be disposed of, personal belongings dropped and bloodied in the shuffle, remnants of humans like yourself.

That could have been you. The woman in the corner with a bloody cleave from her neck to chest, she could have been you if you didn’t meet Namjoon. The man on the floor with his spine half pulled out of his back could have been you if you weren’t saved. The child—

There wasn’t anything left to vomit, but your stomach was sure as hell going to give it a go anyways.

“I--” You wanted to straighten your spine, you wanted to stand up tall and meet her in the eyes like loss of life didn’t bother you—like you weren’t terrified of the shadows of ‘what ifs’ that hung heavy above your head. You had to get used to this; that was the saddest part of it all. You, by all means, should be accustomed to death, to the lingering monsters that manifested themselves into your reality. Namjoon fed off of people like you.

He probably fed off of the people at your feet.

However, your stomach jolted into another hefty, dry heave.

“I will be okay.” You whispered, Jiwoo’s hands on your shoulders. “I’m…not all humans are accustomed to these sights.”

She took a glance around, and you could feel the apologetic sympathy roll off of her aura in waves around you without her ever uttering a word.

“I’m stupid.” She murmured. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“It’s not your fault.” You laughed, hands tightening around the trashcan. “Humans….”

“—Humans have too much empathy for things, especially for their own kind. I read that in a book somewhere.”

“Perhaps.” You snorted. “I think humans have too much empathy for all things, living or not. We are often pointless creatures.”

“I don’t believe in pointlessness. Everything has a reason.” She rubbed soothing circles between your shoulderblades, and, you think that she probably learned this from watching a mother soothe a child once.

You can’t help but catch a bit of dried blood out of the corner of your eye, the resembling of human flesh beside it. “When does Namjoon feed?”

She paused. “Not as often since you’ve arrived—besides prepping for their mission, I can’t remember the last time he was down here. I don’t think he wants you to see that side of him.”

“Are any of these…are any of these his?”

Jiwoo didn’t get up right away, she instead studied your expression as if to make sure that this was something that you really wanted to do—something that you felt you needed to see. She must have found her answer, because she then pushed up to her feet, leaving you huddled over the trashcan. You watched her every move with close precision if only because, if you looked away from her, you’d see more than you wanted to.

When she stopped and looked back at you, you wordlessly got to your feet and stepped carefully around the haphazard mess around you. Despite every aspect of your being trying desperately not to show fear, your palms still sweat and Jiwoo’s eyes still glowed a hazy red.

Her hand found yours as you stared down at the body before you. It was a hunter, that was evident by the uniform, though she was remarkably intact.

Something told you vampires didn’t often keep their victims looking so clean.

He made sure he could hear your screams; he wanted to drag this out—suck out every last bit of your energy and fear until death finally took you. He wanted you to suffer.

Her neck was snapped, her hair curtaining her expression that was stricken in horror. Though her eyes were closed—something else told you that Namjoon had done that when he was finished.

Some sick part of you wanted to touch her, to empathize with the body. You wanted to see yourself in that girl, you wanted to see some remnant of care you had for humanity. However, the second the Hunters Association’s uniform was involved, that fear--that horror--was dampened immensely.

You squeezed Jiwoo’s hand. “I’m okay.” You murmured. “This, I’ve seen bodies before—at least, bodies in this garb.” You bent down, recalling times where you were ordered to strip the bodies, salvage what equipment you could, and let some other sad soul dump the bodies into the incinerators. You had rarely been assigned that task because you were slow and threw up too much for their liking. Though it did become the ultimate punishment for when you mouthed off just a little bit too much.

You murmured a soft apology to the dead woman as you shifted her, your eyes latching onto the embroidered holster buckled around her hips. Numbly, and in a trance to keep yourself from losing what little stomach contents you had left, you unclasped your prize and slipped it free from Namjoon’s meal.

Brushing off the dust and debris, you fumbled with the zipper to slide open that pack and peer at the contents inside.

The bullets that lay inside the embroidered pockets sewn next to the holster shone like a beacon of light and hope in a dark and damp place.

You shifted them, ducking your head to sniff the contents. They obviously had been down here for a while; their garlic scent had significantly decreased from the potency standards that the Hunter’s Association usually had. However, they weren’t useless.

“Can I take this?”

She shrugged as you slung the holster over your shoulder. “What you carry is no concern of mine; I think it wise that you have something to protect yourself from my own kind. I know that not all of us are to be trusted, especially not with you.” She paused, cocking her head at the body of a vampire. “Besides, if their mission is as dangerous as they make it out to be, then the consequences of it may meet up with us here at the compound at some point. If everything goes to shit, I would rather you have something. Vampiric guards are not perfect protection.”

“Jiwoo, I love you.”

She chuckled. “I’m learning to understand the sentiment.”

~.~

Jiwoo attempted to cook—not because you didn’t offer to do so, but because she was adamant that she wanted to try it herself. To give her credit, it smelled good; to make yourself feel better, you hadn’t once stopped looking over her shoulder. The only vampire you trusted to make you food was the one that had lived with humans as a child.

And that vampire was most definitely not Jiwoo based purely on the way she held a spoon.

“The big part goes in the pot.”

“That’s not a handle?”

You pursed your lips, stifling the urge to laugh and cry in hopelessness at the same time. “No.”

However, both of you quickly became distracted when the outside world burst into noise. Jiwoo met your gaze before nodding. “They’re back.” That statement, though it rang true through your bones, did not allow your feet to move. Instead, you only watched as Jiwoo temporarily put the pot aside to go towards the window.

Staring out the blinds, her shoulders visibly relaxed at the sight before her. “He looks okay.” You knew how she felt in that moment because, on some deep, repressed level, you could understand her sentiment.

Yoongi was okay.

How is he? How is Namjoon?

It was almost as if, for a moment, the woman could read your mind: “Namjoon is alright.” She grinned at you as if that could make you feel better about all of your troubles. “Namjoon is alright.”

“That’s good.” You mumbled to the stew on the stove, mindlessly stirring it with the wooden spoon.

“He’s looking up here.”

You frowned at the pot, refusing to move if only because you were stubborn. Out of your peripherals, you could see her gently waving, shaking her head.

“He’s concerned for you.”

“That’s nice of him to be concerned for his human pet.”

Jiwoo sighed. “You know you mean much more to him than that.”

Instead of garnering her a proper response, you curled your free hand into the countertop to stop yourself from giving into your urge to run and make sure he was as fine with your own eyes. “Is he really okay?”You hated the way your voice cracked as her gaze seared the flesh of your cheeks.

“Are you?”

~.~

By the time Namjoon made it upstairs and into the kitchen, your food was done and you were at the table, enjoying your meal with a magazine Jiwoo had found outside the compound. Once her clan leader reared his face, Jiwoo quietly excused herself but not before you could thank her. She had done so much for you that even an awkward situation between you and her leader wouldn’t allow you to just let her slip away so easily.

Even if you didn’t even want to speak in front of your asshat “mate.”

Once you were left along with Namjoon, you could immediately feel the tension in the room rise to the point that you were sure that your blood was frozen in your veins. You could feel his stare on the side of your face, but you forced yourself to eat and focus solely on the magazine before you.

He sighed, but it did nothing to encourage your speech.

Swallowing his pride after several moments of rising silence, he gave in first. “Is there a reason you are ignoring me?”

You frowned at your magazine, fork poised by your mouth. “What did you do on your mission?”

He let out another weighted sigh. “Y/N—I can’t—it’s too danger—“

“Fine.” You cut him off, finally lifting your gaze to his, even if only for a brief moment to nail your point into the ground. “Then don’t expect me to talk.”

He sighed once more, running his fingers through his hair almost as if he wished to rip the strands out at the root. You could feel his gaze on you, feel the heat of his stare as if he could make you look at him, talk to him—as if you could actually hear his thoughts like he could hear yours.

“If you had the power to, would you go backwards? Would you change things? Would you change me?”

You frown only increased in depth, positively fucking up your features for aging later on—if you lived that long.

What in the absolute hell are you talking about?

“Would you find a human mate? If you could be rid of me, would you?”

You sighed, tilting your head up to the ceiling, staring at it as if it could have the answers to all of life’s questions. “Nothing in my life has been by choice, even if I went backwards, nothing would change.” You shifted, thinking about what a human partner would look like for you, thinking about your life without Namjoon.

It would be dark, lonely. You’d be back at the Hunter’s camp; you’d be dead—if not physically then emotionally; there was nothing to look forward to in your old life.

You imagined waking up to a world without Namjoon, without his straightforward nature, his indirect care. You imagined a world without his conversation, his small smiles, and his occasional laughter.

“Would you change me?” It was too loud for the silence of the room, and you found yourself holding your breath for his reply.

Silence encompassed the room, your heart dropping deep into the depths of your stomach the longer it stretched on—but maybe that was your brain screaming from the lack of oxygen.

Vampires find mates solely for optimal offspring, not necessarily a human’s definition of “pairing.”

Vampires are creatures of instinct; they run based on efficiency rather than emotions.

Your hands curled into the magazine, your legs poised to shove the chair out, to run and escape this conversation. You wanted to disappear, curl up into the comforter, crawl into a closet and never return. Anywhere that wasn’t that fucking kitchen would have been a better option for you in that moment.

“I would change me.” It was so quiet you almost didn’t hear it past the slow sound of your heart crashing uncomfortably in your chest. When you didn’t say anything, he continued. “Not you.”

Somehow, that didn’t make your heart lift from its newfound home on the roof of your stomach.

“Why?”

His gaze was no longer on you; rather it was downcast to the floor, focusing on the tile as he carefully chose his words. “I would make myself human.”

“You’d be dead.” You said stupidly, staring at him in confusion to words spilling from your mouth so quickly and so surely you were amazed that you were able to translate all of the jumbled thoughts careening in your head. “We’d both be, I wouldn’t have met you—the hunter’s association wouldn’t have kept me around. So you saying that you would change yourself would mean that you would ultimately change me.” You pushed your chair out from the counter. “We can’t go back, we can’t change what is, only what will be. Why the hell are we even talking about this? What are you so afraid of? Why is it so hard to tell me where you were? What you were doing?”

“If another clan found out about you, if you had information to give, they would never stop hunting you. They would torture you until you begged for death—and then they wouldn’t give it to you, they’d wait until they fed every last drop of information and fear from you before finally letting you decimate yourself.”

“I thought you said you wouldn’t let any of that happen.”

“I can’t make promises, Y/N, this world isn’t—“

“Okay.” You pushed yourself to your feet, leaving your half eaten food and your magazine on the table.

“Y/N—“

“I think…I think I’m going to go to bed now.”

He made it seem like he was almost going to reach out and grab you, but he retracted his hand at the last second.

He only ever touched you because he thought you wanted it, not because he did.

“Good night.” You threw the words over your shoulder, because you didn’t want him to see you cry. He’d seen you cry enough. Crying was weakness, and god were you already pathetic enough as a human being to even think, for a moment, that maybe you weren’t alone in your denied feelings.

Maybe he was right. Maybe it would have been easier if he was human and you two never met. Maybe it would be better if you weren’t in his life.

But would your life be better without him in it?

~.~

You had slept like the dead, cliché phrase you know, but sobbing into a pillow until your eyes were puffed to the point that you couldn’t see made you sleep like you hadn’t in months.

Yeah, you probably could have been six feet under with your lack of response to the world around you. You didn’t wake up when Namjoon entered—you sure as hell didn’t wake up when he came in to wrap you up all nice and tight (you only assumed that he did it based on the fact that you were one-hundred percent sure that you fell face first into the plush bed). You definitely didn’t wake when Jiwoo came in to check on you, nor when Namjoon came and went for the second time. Oh, and you sure as hell didn’t even fucking stir when someone booked it down the hall past your bedroom.

You couldn’t even talk about the building shaking with the force of an explosion outside.

What did finally wake you up was whatever internal alarm built within your genetic code that screamed danger when Taehyung burst into the bedroom at full speed.

Groggily, with your eyelids screaming out in pain and horror, you forced yourself into a sitting position.

You know, you made it sound all fancy, but any normal person would have woken up to the explosion—you just woke up to a dude running in your room with his body language screaming “trouble,” screaming “danger.” And, though you hated to admit to your tendencies to actually give a flying fuck about the man, it scared the barely conscious you to think that this incident involved the vampire closest to you.

Taehyung, luckily or unluckily for you, didn’t regard you at first, and you used that time to fully wake up and orient yourself to the situation before you. As if drugged, you wiped the drool from the corner of your mouth and lazily watched Taehyung slam the door behind him, reaching for a chair to tuck up under the handle—like that was going to do anything against whatever was causing him to panic.

The instant awake button was found when Taehyung turned around and you got a damn good look at his split lip—accompanied by the bruising underneath his eye. The cherry on top of his injury cake was the gashes that you could see through the fresh holes in his shirt when he spun around, blood dribbling down to the waistband of his jeans.

“What’s going on?” Your voice came out as a hiss that sounded more like a gunshot on the tense silence of the room.

His breath came in fast gasps as he turned towards you, his gaze landing anywhere but you—looking for exits, danger, weapons—

“Taehyung!”

He nodded, eyes finally meeting yours. “No windows. Good.”

It didn’t answer your question, but you were pretty sure that he didn’t hear it anyways.

Sitting back into your hips, you ran your fingers through your hair to gather it into a ponytail. “I don’t give a shit about windows; Taehyung, what’s happening?” And then, like the desperate spiral of a worried human being you were, you didn’t even give him time to answer. “It’s Namjoon isn’t it? Where is he? Is he alright?”

He held his hands up to take the brunt of your verbal assault, breath heaving in his chest. “He’s…he’ll be fine.”

“Bullshit.” You detangled yourself from the sheets, adjusting your shirt. “I want to see him.”

“I have orders to make sure you don’t leave this room.”

You froze, frowning at the beaten man before you. “Taehyung—orders or not—you are not going to stop me from going out there.”

“Y/N.” His voice was dark and strained in a way that you most definitely didn’t like. “I have orders; I have to protect you.”

What would your life be like without Namjoon?

You two stared at each other, that same tense silence falling between you.

And then, like the idiot you were, you burst out of the bed and towards the bedroom door.

Naturally, as a fucking vampire, Taehyung was faster than you. His arms wrapped around your waist hard—too hard, but he obviously wasn’t used to handling humans in a way that was gentle; especially when panicked—spinning you around to fling you back onto the bed.

However, you were dumb, and that meant you didn’t know when to give up. In an instant you were back on your feet, bolting towards the door once more. If he had any hope of being delicate with you, it was out the metaphorical window with your second attempt at escape. You crashed to the ground with all the grace of a whale beaching itself, skidding back towards the bed post.

“Please stop.” Taehyung pleaded, body poised to block you. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

You rolled to your hands and knees, hissing in pain. “Then just let help, let me out of here.”

“Y/N! They will kill you, don’t you see that? You see what they did to me—what the hell do you think will happen to you?” He was desperate, all but screaming at you in a way that would have scared you were your heart not slamming itself against your ribs.

If he looks like this, what does Namjoon look like? Where is Namjoon?

You threw a glance at the bed, at the space between the mattress and the box spring—the space where you stashed your hidden prize. Without thinking of anything else but the way Namjoon’s hand felt around yours, you shoved your hand underneath the mattress, fingers wrapping around the handle of the gun as you whipped it out at Taehyung. A shaky breath slipped past your lips as you switched off the safety, staring down the barrel at your unfortunate target. With a furrowed brow and a steeled resolve, you nodded to the door, one hand slowly leaving the gun in order to fasten the holster around your waist. “Taehyung, open it.”

“You’d shoot me?” His voice was so sad, so concerned and weak that it broke your heart to do this to him.

But I have no choice.

You remembered Namjoon’s face as he held you, the furrow to his brow as he watched a romantic comedy just to try and understand you better.

He didn’t, but he tried.

“If it means that there’s even a small chance that I can keep him from losing his life—from getting hurt—then, yeah, I would.”

He let out a sigh from deep inside his chest, holding his hands up in surrender. “You know that, if he loses you, this whole thing—everything he’s worked for—it’s all over.”

“But is the outcome really that much better if I lose him?” You jerked your chin to the door once more. “Open it.”

As your gun remained trained on his back, loaded with faded but still garlic laden bullets, Taehyung removed the chair and pulled the door open. Satisfied that he wasn’t going to do anything further to stop you, you thumbed the safety back on and ran down the hall full speed. Skidding across the tile like a madwoman, you swung yourself into the kitchen—the fried synapses of your brain lighting up with an idea. A horrible idea, but an idea nonetheless.

The bullet pouch slammed against a forming bruise on your thigh as you hurriedly threw open the cabinet doors in your squirrel search for the pasta jar you had panicked about so long ago.

“What are you doing?” Taehyung murmured, defeated twice in one day—once by vampires and once by a human scared of a leaf.

“The garlic in these bullets won’t be enough. Bullets lose their soaked properties by half in a month, three-quarters in two. They’re going to need to be refreshed.” You grinned with the jar in your hand, wiggling it within his view.

“Yah! Y/N!” He was only able to let out an exhausted shout as you remembered your self-imposed mission and burst past him, Taehyung hot on your heels.

All playfulness was zapped from you the moment you threw open the doors to the compound.

The difference between the quiet chaos instead the building and the cacophony of the world outside almost gave you whiplash.

The sky was overcast, but only within the vicinity of the area around the compound—in the distance, you could see places where the sun beat down on the ruined earth. All you could hear and see were bursts of bright flashes, sounds of lightning and screaming that seemed to echo even in the open space reverberated through your core. It was as if titans walked the earth and were crashing into each other, bodies slamming against one another. The fencing was dented in, but not broken, bodies strewn just outside and particularly dense around the gates.

Someone was trying to get in—but like, nO ShIT Y/n.

For a moment, you were stunned; for a moment your resolve and your footsteps stuttered.

You wondered if you had as much blood as your partner, strewn up on the tree. You wondered if you, too, would lose your insides to the ground, if the vampire with its hand around your neck would gut you until you were a shell.

Until there was no more blood.

Namjoon slowly overlapped your past self, images of him in a vampire’s hold—images of him strewn up on a tree, him dangling from a grasp until his intestines were on the ground.

Without thinking any further, without dwelling on the fact that this would probably get you killed, you ran towards the fence. Taehyung called out your name behind you, but it sounded garbled as if he was miles away—you were far too focused on not losing the one person that irritated you most.

Your free hand looped through the chain-link, your eyes scanning the haphazard mess of fighting until you finally saw that shock of hair and that shoulder-shape that you would (don’t fucking read into it, you’re still in denial) recognize anywhere.

Your heart leapt into your throat despite all efforts to stamp it down, despite all efforts to continue to pretend that you didn’t give a shit.

He was hurt.

Blood dribbled into his eyes, some running down to his grimace of pain as he used his good hand—the one not broken at an inhuman angle—to utilize his demonic vampire abilities that had every species in the country cowering in fear.

However, what concerned you the most was that you saw Jisung standing there with a wicked grin, as if he was the only one who wasn’t afraid.

That fact alone concerned you as to what kind of abilities he had—he was a clan leader now, wasn’t he? The gold flash to his eyes told you that your gut instinct was true. He wasn’t afraid. He wasn’t fucking afraid?

That made you even more so—but not for yourself. In that moment, you couldn’t give less of a shit about yourself.

Jisung was still, standing between guards but laughing, close to insanity as Jimin’s body jolted and his head snapped back, a cast of purple sliding over them. Jimin grabbed his face, turning towards Namjoon only to lash out at his own leader.

And, just like that, you realized why Jisung wasn’t afraid.

How could you be afraid of someone when you could turn the people your enemy cared about against them?

You unscrewed the cap to the sauce, fishing out a bullet from the holster to dip it in the substance before loading it into your gun. Hunter’s guns were designed for wet ammo—bullets had to be soaked one way or another, often times they weren’t entirely dry when used. It should still work. Though, it probably would have been smart to test the damn thing before this very moment.

Biting your lip in concentration, you fired at Jisung without any further hesitation.

There wasn’t panic this time, your hands didn’t shake—so the shot took, though not quite where you wanted it—his bicep wasn’t the most fatal place to be hit, but it would do.

The cast left Jimin’s eyes as Jisung’s attention travelled elsewhere…along with the attention of everyone else on the street.

All gazes snapped upright, Namjoon’s eyes meeting with yours at the exact same time Jisung found the source of his new injury.

All it took was one look at Namjoon and you could practically hear his voice in your head—you could feel his anger, his worry, and his own fear radiate through the ground towards you as if it was a lightning strike.

So, because you were smart and because you obviously didn’t give a rat’s ass about Namjoon’s worry for you, you dipped a bullet and fired another shot at Jisung.

Okay so maybe smart wasn’t the word for you.

“Y/N!” The shout came from all angles, from Taehyung still scrambling to chase after you from behind, from Seokjin who was trying to wrestle a very confused Jimin away from Jisung’s radius, from Namjoon who turned to tear after Jisung with renewed vigor because he knew that was the only way to save you.

After all, you’d forgotten that one of Jisung’s gang could teleport.

Suddenly, as if you had an epiphany, you remembered why you weren’t supposed to get close to the fence—but in reality it was because you were now face to face with the ugliest man (vampire or human, didn’t fucking matter if you had a mullet and a slight overbite) you’ve ever seen. Like this was some damn superhero movie, he flashed through the fence, his hands enclosing around your wrists.

He’s got freckles. Was your last stupid thought before you were launched into another reality, another fucking dimension that was far too fast and all too confusing for you to comprehend.

Luckily for you, you were still holding onto the pasta sauce jar—even when you suddenly found yourself outside of the safety of the compound and on the asphalt. You didn’t really think too much of it because you were too busy trying to unfurl the ball of nausea in your gut.

You barely had time to look up and see your mate only a few feet away--his eyes wide as he desperately and quickly tried to dive for you—before you were slammed back into that disorienting world that was both reality and not at the same time.

Freckles twisted with you, his laughter tickling the shell of your ear though it seemed to echo all around you in the foreign space.

Somehow, you knew what was up and what was down enough to come to the realization that you were now beneath him.

Shit shit shit.

You wondered if Namjoon could still hear your thoughts in this world. If so, you were probably scaring him more than yourself.

But like, you were pretty damned scared so maybe not; you could die.

You would die, at least if Freckles had you hit the ground first, at least if Freckles used his weight to slam you underneath him; vampires were strong after all.

You could hear people yelling your name through the thin fabric of time and space; your mate’s panic wrapped around Jisung’s laugh and was sprinkled by never ending shouts of your name. However, with every second in this false world, they were getting further and further away from you.

You could feel Freckles trying to manifest you back into your normal realm of existence, your body tilting backwards as the world shifted around you. In a last second panic as you careened head first, you swung the jar in your hand, slamming it into the side of Freckles’ face as hard as you could manage.

You had to give yourself some props at least, the glass shattered in a spray of spiced garlic and tomatoes, the world snapping into clarity around you as he let go, leaving to you clatter to the ground in a mess of limbs.

Freckles manifested behind you, clutching at his sizzling face in agony as you gathered yourself onto your knees, prepping yourself for the next blow to come. In the distance, about a block and a half away, you could see Namjoon.

Oh yeah, even from this distance you could tell he was pissed with a capital P.

“Fucking bitch!” Freckles howled, his glare one that shot a spike of fear straight through your chest as he towered over you.

You reached for your gun, only to realize that you must have dropped it back inside the compound when this asshole first appeared—leaving you defenseless as he grabbed you by your neck. For whatever reason, it seemed that vampires seemed to favor that as a point of grip. It probably was because it immobilized any human seeing as they could die if they didn’t struggle or if they struggled too hard.

Either way, it would be nice to face a vampire that didn’t aim for your jugular.

You kicked and flailed, gritting your teeth against the pain and the disgusting slough of skin that had become the right side of Freckles’ face. You had been lucky enough to see garlic wounds only through projector screens until now—they looked much worse in person. You would have vomited were you not suspended by your fucking throat.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught the tail end of a flash of that warm, bright light that could only have come from Namjoon. You heard Seokjin shouting something, but everything was getting blurrier and blurrier the longer Freckles’ hand was holding you.

“Do all of the six have abilities?”

Jiwoo rested her face on her hands, staring at the board game before the two of you as you finished your turn. “Technically yes, but I haven’t seen all of them. I don’t go on missions much—at least not with them.” She reached to grab the dice in the middle of the board. “Why do you ask?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know, it just…it seems like Namjoon regards them all so highly and, well—at least at the Hunter’s association—I thought that the vampire hierarchy is based on abilities.”

She chuckled, the dice thudding on the hard board. “It is, normally. Namjoon, however, is not particularly a normal clan leader.”

You kicked with whatever strength you could manage, black spots dancing at the corners of your vision.

“So Seokjin is second in command because of age then?”

She made a face, moving her piece five spaces. “Partly, but that is the one case where abilities do play some sort of factor. Namjoon’s hierarchy is based on trust—the reason the six are as high up as they are is based on loyalty and proof that they have earned his trust. Seokjin…Seokjin showed this trust with his abilities.”

When you only stared at her in confusion she laughed.

“I suppose you wouldn’t know, apologize for me assuming that you did—after all, it seems that, aside from Namjoon, you are closest with him.” She sent you a wink that had you frowning at her. “Seokjin is a nullifier—which is a huge ability in a world of clan leaders. He could take over the clan if he so chose to.”

“But he doesn’t—he chooses to follow Namjoon?”

She nodded. “He trusts his leader as much as his leader trusts him.”

Suddenly, there was a force that knocked into Freckles’ back—hard enough to send both of you careening to the side only to slam into the ground far too hard for your liking.

Everything moved lethargically around you, your body stuck to the ground as your mind reeled to catch up with the sudden intake of oxygen. When you finally managed to get yourself to a sitting position you saw Seokjin wrestling with Freckles, his teeth grit in an animalistic snarl as he desperately tried to get your attention.

He was yelling something at you, but in the fog of your brain it was hard to hear.

However, you were pretty decent at reading lips.

“Run.”

You didn’t need a second glance to make sure that you heard right, you didn’t need to be told twice to do the one thing your busted fight or flight response was good at. You hauled your sore ass up off the ground and took off running.

Well, at first you pitched toward the side, hit the ground and then had to haul yourself up again—but you know, you had to cut yourself a break because you were just getting your oxygen back.

However, running, for whatever reason helped—it helped clear the fog and bring back your hyper-focus, it helped bring back the whole reason you found yourself outside the compound: the vampire not focused enough on the enemy he was fighting; the man who stared at you as if you held his life within your chest.

Whatever fear had been there dissipated the moment you saw how injured he managed to get himself in the moments that you had been fighting with Freckles’. All those cuts and bruises and gashes—even with his vampiric healing it would still take him over two weeks to get rid of those injuries entirely.

So what does the concerned human with bleeding pasta sauce hands and absolutely nothing else decide to do when her mate is in need? Call in reinforcements? Figure out where she dropped the Vampire Hunter gun? Well…no, it’s you—what do you expect?

After all, you were not and you would never be a vampire hunter.

So, like the rabid koala you always wanted to be (not really) you latched onto Jisung’s back, your garlic soaked fingers digging into the skin of his face—his mouth, his eyes, whatever place you could find to debilitate him. Namjoon stared at you over Jisung’s shoulder, his face gritting with renewed anger as he slammed the heel of his palm into Jisung’s jugular.

It was going well until your added weight on Jisung’s back caused the both of you to topple backwards, the enemy vampire slamming on top of you hard enough to knock the wind out of you. Jisung screeched in pain, his hands gripping your wrists in a vice, threatening to crush the bones. Namjoon, in a fit of anger that terrified you (even though it wasn’t directed at you)—even knowing that you were the person that he would never intentionally injure. He grabbed Jisung by the jacket, picking him up with a grunt and a growl of anger only to throw him over you. You shouldn’t have been surprised by how far the enemy vampire flew, but then again, Namjoon wasn’t the most infamous clan leader in the entire continent for nothing.

You leaned your head back, watching Jisung clamor to his feet.

“Hwi! Fall back!” He shouted in pain, Freckles responding to the name by ripping free from Seokjin’s grasp. The teleporter ran full speed at his clan leader, vanishing into thin air the moment his hand met Jisung’s shoulder.

Both you and Namjoon held your breath, watching as the remainder of Jisung’s clan ran back into the ruined city and away from the compound.

It was only when he was satisfied that they were not going to spontaneously reappear that Namjoon finally addressed you, still lying on the ground like an upside down starfish. You, on the other hand, refused to meet his gaze because you were positive that it was a look of pure anger and frustration at your lack of give-a-shit to his instructions.

“Back up.” You murmured to the sky. “I’ve got garlic on me and you’ve got open wounds.”

He frowned, but you could tell that he only moved maybe a centimeter further away from you as he gathered whatever coherency he could manage from the renegade thoughts in his head. “You…why don’t you listen? Why don’t you ever listen? You were told not to come out here.”

His anger should have scared you, but this kind didn’t—you just didn’t want to see it. “I had to make sure.” Your chest tightened painfully. You wanted to blame it on the weight of Jisung slamming into you, blame it on being manhandled like a rag doll by Freckles.

But you couldn’t. Not anymore.

Not when you were out here despite yourself being afraid of everything that this outside world meant.

“I had to make sure that you survived. I...I—“

I think I love you. Was what you were going to think, but all thoughts of confession were ripped from your mind the second your body lit aflame with one single strain of thought.

Garlic.

The smell was far too strong for it to be the pasta sauce on your hand, and you couldn’t get yourself to your feet in time to beat the sound of the shot echoing through the streets.

You watched in horror as a puff of blood burst from Namjoon, a scream of agony ripping from his throat as he crashed backwards to the ground.

You couldn’t hear yourself, but you knew you were screaming his name, jolting towards him only to be stopped by the sudden pressure of a wire lasso tightening around your midsection.

As you were ripped backwards off your feet, past the blood rushing in your ears and the sounds of Namjoon’s screams, you could make out the telltale buzz of a two-way radio far too close for comfort.

We’ve got her trapped. Target down.

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boozergray · 5 years ago

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OKAY I’m back because I finished Brotherhood and Revelations over the last two weeks and I have thoughts. So here we go again.

tldr: both games were pretty good. There were things I didn’t like - a lot of the parkour stuff still could be frustrating but it improved a little but it is what it is. Overall I think they’re still good games and the whole story of Ezio is something I thoroughly enjoyed.

BROTHERHOOD

POSITIVES: I loved the continued plot with the Borgias, seeing the immediate aftermath of going after Rodrigo in AC2 and how that came back to bite Ezio in the butt. The whole deal with having Cesare Borgia as the main antagonist was kind of cool to me, one of the biggest appeals of this franchise to me is the way they use historical figures in the story. I also really liked the fact that for the most part the whole game takes place in Rome. You don’t have to worry about going back and forth between different cities and worry about whether or not you’re going to be notorious there right off the bat. Also the fact that they introduced a fast travel system that you don’t have to pay for every time you use it. Claudia becoming a part of the brotherhood made me super happy because she was one of my lowkey favorite characters and the fact that you were building up the Italian brotherhood during the game as well was a lot of fun. There was a lot more stuff added into the game which I’ll admit I didn’t do all of. I know I did a couple of the courtesan missions and a couple of the Cristina memories but that was about it. Definitely need to go back and do more once I’ve gone through the rest of the games. I also liked the freedom to spend more time outside of the animus with Desmond and the team. I’m so emotionally attached to Desmond and I know it’s going to break my heart in the end.

NEGATIVES: The parkour. There were still so many times when I fail a mission or died because something didn’t work right with the free run system. And the addition of optional challenges for 100% synchronization just made it more frustrating. Also the fact that they still wanted you to be stealthy in certain missions when there aren’t any real stealth mechanics other than blending into a crowd or just stepping out of the line of sight. Also the final sequence in the chapel as Desmond was a bitch to get through and I was ready to throw my controller through the tv I was so frustrated before finally getting it.

REVELATIONS

POSITIVES: Okay that opening with Ezio in Masyaf that they animated outside of the game engine was fucking amazing and like still looks completely amazing even to this day good god. Like the whole scene is beautifully choreographed and the way they included Altaïr as like an echo was gorgeous. All in all, the change of scenery to Istanbul was really cool in my book. I liked seeing the new character designs and the change of scenery and hearing the language being used in the game. Yusuf instantly became one of my favorite characters and my only real complaints with him are that he was painfully underutilized in the story. The relationship between Ezio and Sofia was beautiful and I love how it kind of slowly developed even though it was clear he had heart eyes for her from the very start. The letters to Claudia were a nice touch and gave me a little bit of Auditore sibling feels even if she wasn’t actually present in the game. I enjoyed the part that Suleiman played in the game and all in all the missions were pretty fun. Also the Sync Nexus/Animus Island section with Desmond and Clay were a clever mechanic and I enjoyed what I played of Desmond’s story (I only did 3 of the 5 parts mainly because the first person perspective was not my favorite and some of the sections made me a little motion sick). And the addition of the Altaïr’s memories was really cool and I loved seeing Ezio experience those the way Desmond has been experiencing his.

NEGATIVES: The whole idea of buying or restoring parts of the city (i.e. the different shops) adding onto your notoriety was annoying and kind of made me not want to bother. Not to mention the lack of wanted posters made it harder to bring your notoriety down once you’d attracted attention. The templar dens honestly didn’t feel like an important part of the game so as a result I think I only did like three of them. Same for the recruiting assassins and sending them out on missions. It felt like it wasn’t nearly as important to do as the Borgia towers and assassin contracts in Brotherhood which is kind of sad. There were still some issues with the parkour but it seemed like it wasn’t quite as bad. I did miss having the little interactions with Rebecca and Shaun (not Lucy, I never really liked her) and while it was cool to see Desmond and Clay interact, I feel like it didn’t happen enough.

#assassins creed #assassins creed brotherhood #assassins creed revelations #ezio auditore #desmond miles #julieplaysvideogames*#game: assassins creed brotherhood #game: assassins creed revelations #series: assassins creed

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welshdragonrawr · 5 years ago

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Explosion (or I Got the Cathouse Blues)

Hey, look who’s back with another pointless plotless one-shot quick fic from her old list for you lovely peeps. This was in my drafts for so long and I meant to finish it much sooner. But life and work and stuff happened. But here you go. To find on A03; https://archiveofourown.org/works/21163646/chapters/52031278

I Got the Cat-House Blues

“And what have I told you girls, countless times might I add, about messing with ingredients and spell books without consulting me first?” The sudden sound of the stern voice sent the two young students in the greenhouse shooting up from where they stood hovering over the old workbench. “This is dangerous; it’s not something you should be playing with until you know what you’re doing,” Cordelia added, casting a glance at the open flame precariously close to a braid of brunette hair.

“But Miss Goode, we know what we’re doing!” This feeble protest earned a rather dubious look toward the two girls from the doubtful Supreme. Granted not many students voluntarily chose to take up learning the magic of the greenhouse inventory besides herself; many students complained it seemed too advanced and she was sure many more just found the necessity of the spell books and incantations outdated and boring to pore over. Still, whilst she was glad these two had apparently taken an extracurricular interest, it did not mean she was so happy or lenient with them about sneaking into the greenhouse without informing her first.

“But we didn’t sneak in!” the little redhead had piped up defensively; had she been wearing a pair of cats eye glasses with that plaid skirt, her precociousness might have reminded Cordelia of her own old mentor. “Miss Day let us in!”

“Is that so?” It sounded like the Supreme would be having some stern words with the other botany teacher sooner or later about the ramifications of letting students run rampant apparently without appropriate supervision. “I see… And where is Miss Day now? Or are you going to tell me she also thought it was a good idea to let you play potions on your own?” Cordelia asked, folding her arms as she looked at the two until the brunette caved under her gaze.

“No, she’s round here somewhere we swear. She just said she was gonna go fetch some other herbs that needed tending to or something,” she said while the redhead still dropped whatever it was in her hand into the pot before Delia could even whip it out of her hand with telekinesis.

“Very convincing...”

“It’s true miss Goode! Honest!”

“Well I can see it’s already too late to stop what you’ve already done,” the herbalist headmistress said with a sigh, “but at least let me look at what you’re doing,” Cordelia relented, walking to the table. Just in time it seemed too, as the taller girl leaned over to sprinkle something in and Cordelia had only seconds to see what it was.

“Don’t!-“ She pushed the girls aside, far from the boiling mixture, knocking the stray hand away from the pot but with her concern for her students paramount, she wasn’t quite quick enough to stop a scattering from falling in. Keeping the others at bay a safe distance with an outstretched hand, she turned back to the mixture, leaning toward it to inspect it… A small cloudburst erupted with an albeit rather underwhelming ‘poof!’ from the small pot; a candy-blue coloured puff of smoke, concealing the headmistress’ features in a fine mist as she had bent over the mixture.

Misty, having gathered a handful of coloured herbs, was currently carrying them back into the greenhouse with a spare jar to sort them into that she had pinched from a kitchen cupboard. She wandered, humming happily, into the greenhouse over the small stoop of the doorway. And nearly dropped the plethora of pilfered things in her hands.

The two young students who she had left for no longer than five minutes were stood frozen to the spot, while Cordelia was leaning against the opposite workspace. Although the Supreme’s back was turned, Misty could tell even at this distance, the way she was bent over, holding her hands over her face, either side of her head. Immediately, the swamp witch feared the worst. That something had happened again. Maybe something had gone wrong, judging by the looks on the girls’ faces. Fearing for Delia’s eyesight – again - or for shock or pain or whatever else the supreme might be silently going through, Misty hurriedly set her things down on the table, not caring for anything that scattered or fell in her haste. Picking up the small can of water, just in case, and the freshest jar of mud recently collected by herself, Misty couldn’t help the worry that stirred deep in her stomach; she had not heard a single word uttered from the stooped Supreme. She had to restrain herself from running or flat out leaping a la parkour over the table to get to the quivering headmistress.

“Delia? Dee? Talk to me, y’alright?” Misty asked tentatively, longing to place a hand on the shorter witch’s back but unable to with both hands full. Up close she could see Cordelia’s shoulders shaking. The tips of her long blonde hair damp and dripping with whatever liquid the potion had been. There was a small moan, and Misty might have shuddered if she hadn’t been so close, if she didn’t know Delia so well to know that was not a moan of pain. Anguish, maybe but not agony like she had been so afraid of.

“Delia, what happened? What’s wrong?” She asked again, this time setting the water down - nothing seemed to be burning, which was good, but it had to have been traumatic either way given her past and Misty wasn’t exactly anxious to remind her of that. Another small groan was elicited from the witch. “Let me see what happened…”

“No…” It was the first word Misty had heard clearly from her, but not exactly the one she had been wanting.

“Dee, please, I need to know if you’re hurting, I want to help,” Misty shot a look to the two girls still stood in the corner, mouthing what did you do? After some shakes of the head and shrugs of the shoulders, Misty shooed them back into the main house, ushering one of them to get Zoe or Queenie or anyone else that Cordelia might not mind seeing her like this. “Delia come on, it can’t be that bad.”

“Oh it’s bad alright...” Whilst Cordelia’s words worried her, the fact that she was speaking with those words and that slightly sarcastic tone was oddly comforting.

“Okay you’re scaring me now. C’mon darlin, let me help you,” this time the swamp witch did raise a hand to her back, hoping a reassuring touch might coax her into complying in confidence. The touch seemed to pay off, because after a moment, Cordelia seemed to lift her head a fraction before hesitating with a mutter.

“Don’t laugh.”

“Why the hell would I laugh, it’s not li- oh....” Misty’s words trailed off as Cordelia lifted her head from her hands and turned slowly to face her. No acidic burns or deadly rash or anything evidently painful or scarring to speak of... But there, right there - and Misty had to blink and double take before she could convince herself she wasn’t seeing things - peeking out from the damp blonde strands of hair, for lack of a better description appeared to be a very distinct actual pair of pointed fluffy cats ears.

“Nooooo. No way…” Misty’s gasp, her voice, even filled with such child-like awe, did not do any favours for Cordelia’s feelings about this feline development. “They’re not...Noooo....Can’t be...” Misty reached out to touch one and Cordelia flinched back.

“This is ridiculous...I can’t go anywhere like this!” Cordelia moaned again, evidently exasperated. Misty took the moment of distraction to reach out again and managed to touch one this time just briefly before Cordelia had slapped her hand away. Sure enough, the velvet fuzz felt very real. Warm and soft.

“What the hell were they thinking?” the Supreme exclaimed. “What were they even trying to do?!” Cordelia gripped at her new-found ears as if she could pull them from her head like some Halloween accessory that way - with no success.

“Ho! Cordy! I knew you had a hard time in the closet, but I didn’t know you were so far in you found yourself with the furs! Jesus!” Madison’s unmistakeable tone chimed through the greenhouse. Of course, of all the people the students could have found first in this situation... Madison’s laughter befitting a characteristic cackle in the quiet space, evidently did not help Cordelia’s mood or predicament at all.

“Madison! This isn’t funny! This is a disaster!” Cordelia tried desperately to reprimand the other young witch, but the heeled blonde only seemed to find it more funny not less.

“They actually twitch when you’re angry?” Madison only cackled harder as she lifted her phone to catch the light. “This is actually priceless. If you could only see yourself right now-“

“Madison please! Don’t you dare record this!!” the Supreme’s ears perked up, forcibly restraining a shriek as she tried to swipe the phone from the movie star’s grasp. Unfortunately every time she dropped her hands to flick at the phone with telekinesis, that only gave Madison a better chance and angle to record the ridiculous ears. Now apparently not just satisfied with pictures for Instagram, Madison had found the necessity of recording the ridiculous ways the ears reacted so finely to Cordelia’s expressions. An animation or phone-app filter couldn’t have done it better.

“Oh lighten up Puss Puss, this is the most fun you’ve been for months, and it’s far too good to pass up!” Madison taunted back, the tell-tale shutter sound of the camera clicking away again as she sniggered. “See even swampy finds it funny!”

Uh oh. Cordelia spun back to face Misty, and indeed the ears seemed to be twitching a little, as did the swamp witch’s lips as she tried far too hard – and failed just as much – to keep a straight face at the sight. “Misty! You’re supposed to be on my side here. Come on this isn’t funny!” Cordelia whined, the ears bending back with it.

“Maybe not funny,” Misty carefully agreed, literally biting down on a snort. “But ya have to admit it is kinda cute...”

“Cute?!” That only made Madison laugh harder, and Cordelia had flushed a strong pink so fiercely Misty could have sworn she even saw a hint of it in the tips of those ears. “Those girls are in so much trouble!”

“Maybe you should worry more about these right now than them...” Misty tried to calm her, swiping a hand at the ears, intending to stroke the plastered hair from her face but actually only embarrassing the supreme witch.

“Hey Misty, maybe you should ask your girlfriend if you can check whether she’s got a tail too!” Madison hooted, getting a handful of flower petals, leaf cuttings and vine tossed telekinetically towards her as Cordelia hollered back.

“Madison!!”

“Ooooooooohkay!” As Cordelia nearly reached for the mud, Misty leapt to intervene before the two cats could really claw at one another. Madison made her escape, likely to wash the greenery from her hair and upload all her wonderful recordings for the witches of the interwebs. Misty turned back to Cordelia, grasping one hand, and brushing at her tousled hair with the other, attempting to pat it smooth around – without touching – the adorable ears.

“Hey, don’t listen to her.” The Supreme seemed to have already spent any anger she had and resorted back to her previous anguish, that had Misty shaking her head. ”Look, it’s fine- I mean, it’ll be fine. We’ll just work out what the girls were trying to do, and how to reverse it and then nobody will have to know or see anything and it’ll all be good, huh?”

“I can only hope it will be that easy,” Cordelia grumbled in reply, absently tugging on one ear again. Neither of them wanted to admit to the likelihood that Madison had already prevented the latter part of that argument.

“Course it will. You’re the supreme. It’ll be easy as pie.” Misty reassured, swiping at the other one and this time Cordelia did not flinch, though she did give Misty yet another dubious look, a fluffy ear twitching in alignment with the raising of a fine brow. The swamp witch hummed, smirked, then stuck her tongue out cheekily between her teeth as she dared add; “You know you do look pretty adorable like this though..”

“Please don’t,” Cordelia groaned, rolling her eyes as she turned back towards the table.

“What? It’s true,” Misty insisted, hovering at her side, an infectious grin upon her face; “You’re kinda cute as a kitty cat.”

“Please don’t ever say that again,” the Supreme shook her head, although despite herself she couldn’t help the small smile in her own expression hearing it from those lips. Perhaps the Cajun could be forgiven.

“Hey, Dee?”

“Yes, Misty?”

“Do you have a tail?”

Perhaps not.

#ahs fanfic #foxxay fanfic #cordelia goode #misty day #cordelia x misty #madison montgomery #potions gone wrong #this was so pointless but fun #inspired by polar-biscuits fanart btw!#go check it out you'll know the one when you see it

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big-bara-boys · 6 years ago

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Turtles and their S/O

Some fluff, and some turtle x reader lovin’. Enjoy!

Leo:

“I cannot believe the nerve you have, Leo!” he watches as you huff and continues pacing. “Don’t look at me like you’re cluel- do you even know what I’m talking about?” you stop your pacing and stare at your blue clad boyfriend.

“No, darling I don’t,” leaning back against the couch, Leo runs through his head all of the possible things he could’ve done, “Please explain.”

Not passing the opportunity to let him know exactly how you feel, you let it all out. “As of late you have really been crossing the line with how you talk to me. You’ve been using that I’m-not-taking-your-bullshit-I’m-the-leader tone with me lately and I don’t appreciate it. It’s the same tone you use with your brothers. I’m not your brother, I’m your other half. I’m the one who loves you unconditionally with all my heart. You, Leonardo, carry my heart with you, and I hope I hold yours. But when it comes to being with someone you love, you don’t treat them like you would treat your siblings when they step out of line.”

Walking over to him, you get close to his face and hold his icy gaze, “All I ask of you, is to treat me like I'm your equal, because it's what I know I deserve," and with that, you walk away from him and head home, not once looking back to his pleading eyes.

Night fall comes around and you’re curled up on your queen sized bed when there's a tap at the window. Sighing, you get up to go and open it, knowing your boyfriend is on the other side.

Pushing open the window, you stare into his cerulean eyes, "Hi Leo," is the only thing you say to him before walking inside.

"Y/N, I want you to know how sorry I am. I- I have realized what I've been doing lately and I didn't bother thinking too much about it. You seemed fine so I payed no mind to it. And you are my equal, you're my love, my life, and one of the few things that keep me going. And I'm so sorry I failed to let you know just how much you truly mean to me. Please forgive my mistakes?" Leo stands in the middle of your living room, head bowed, waiting for you to say something.

You walk up next to him and place your hand on the side of his face, turning him to face you. "I can forgive you, only if you actually pay attention and do something about the way you're talking to me. Let's be honest babe, the only time I really need to be reprimanded is when we're in bed," you both chuckle at your joke.

“I can definitely promise you that.” Leo reaches up and strokes your cheek. Smiling he leans closer and kisses you.

Raph:

“God damn it, Raphael, pick up your damn phone!” You angrily toss your phone onto the couch and continue your pacing. Patrol nights were never easy on your anxiety, especially not after what happened six months ago. Six months ago it was just a regular night. You went to visit the turtles and splinter and hung out with them for the day. When night fell they mentioned that it was time for patrol, so you told them you would stay back and wait for them.

Two hours later you were reading a book when you heard frantic voices. Standing up, you face towards the entry way and watch as Leo, Donnie, and Mikey drag a near unconscious Raph. Your heart skips a beat as you rush over.

“What the hell happened?!” you stare at them with wide, panicked eyes.

“We were messing around on the rooftop of a building over on 34th street, when we were ambushed by the Foot. Raph got hit by some tranquilizers that knocked him out fairly quickly. But if I’m right on the kind of sedative that they used, he should be fine within a few hours. I’m just going to run some tests really quick and see if I can’t try and flush it out of his system quicker.” Donnie paces over and has Leo and Mikey place Raph on the curved table they made to fit their shells.

Suddenly you heard the rushed sound of clawed feet coming up behind you. Turning around you see Splinter walking towards you and the turtles, “What on earth has happened?” Leo and Mikey immediately go into detail on what happened. Tired of standing there, you walk up to Donnie and ask if you can do anything to help, “Uh, if you could go over to that metal cabinet and get the prep supplies for the IV insert that would be great,” Donnie replies without even turning away from his unconscious brother.

You walk over to the cabinet Donnie told you about and open it. Looking over the shelves you find what he was talking about and bring it over to him, “Thank you Y/N,” Donnie smiles at you and immediately begins getting Raph ready for the IV.

Ever since that night happened, you’ve been very apprehensive on letting the boys go on patrol night. Of course you couldn’t tell them what to do, you could only tell them to be safe and come back in one piece. But one rule that you had set down was that they were to answer their phones when you or splinter called. Your reasoning being that you wanted to make sure that they were fine and hadn’t gotten taken away before you could do anything to help. You only ever called on that rare occasion where they were out for more than two hours. The turtles were usually very good at coming back on time (thanks Leo) but there were always those nights where it sometimes turned into three or four. Tonight just so happened to be that night, the first night they’ve been late since the run in with the Foot.

You try calling again, and you even call Donnie, but there’s no answer. In an attempt to calm your racing nerves, you turn on the cooking channel for some background noise. About an hour later you’re sitting on your couch when you hear series of taps on your window, instantly telling you that it’s Raph. Rushing over to the window, you rip open the curtains and throw open the giant window.

“Are your brothers with you?” Raph begins to shake his head no, “Good, now get inside, Raphael,” instantly Raph knows something’s up because you only use his full name when he fucks up. When he’s stable on the ground, he turns and shuts the window, locking it in the process.

“Baby doll, I’m sor-,” Raph starts, but you don’t let him.

“What happened? Why did it take so long?” instantly your panic is noticeable to him. Guilt overrides any possible emotion he could’ve felt in that moment. He knows how worried you’ve been getting ever since that night all those months ago.

“We were messing around on the chrysler building again, just practicing some parkour.” His voice is soft and gentle, an attempt to lower your emotions.

“Where’s your phone, Raph? I called you and you didn’t pick up, I even called Donnie and he didn’t pick up.” You continued to press, even while knowing that you were starting to overreact.

Slowly, Raphael walks up to you and gathers you in his embrace, “I’m so sorry baby doll, I didn’t mean to worry you like that. Upping your anxiety is the last thing I’d want to do to you.” He leans down and smothers his face into your hair, taking in your scent. Gently he starts to rock you both from side to side, knowing that relaxes you. Pulling away just enough to look at him, you say “Please answer your phone next time? I just want to know you’re okay,” with a small kiss to your forehead he whispers his promise.

Donnie:

Laying in bed you stare at the ceiling waiting for your boyfriend to walk into the bedroom. A bit more time goes by and he still hasn’t come lumbering in. Turning onto your side, you stare at the alarm clock and see that it’s been twenty five minutes since Donnie said that he would be in bed with you. Sighing in frustration, you get up off the bed and walk towards his lab area to see what he’s doing. You don’t bother knocking on the door, knowing that he wouldn’t even hear it.

Opening the door you see Donnie hunched over his desk, mumbling to himself while using a pipette to drop a liquid into a test tube. Rolling your eyes you walk over, “Donnie c’mon, time to go to bed,” you run your nails over the back of his shell causing him to release a squeaky churr.

“Darling, don’t start something you can’t finish,” Donnie puts down his equipment and smirks at you. “Well I can’t exactly do anything when you’re stuck in your lab at one in the morning, now can I?” you raise your eyebrow at him and cross your arms.

“One in the morni- what? That’s not the time, I swear it was just like, what, midnight?” His face contorts into a confused expression. Looking down at his watch he see’s that it is in fact, one in the morning. “Well shit, I’m sorry honey I lost track of time. Let me just go ahead and put this away.” Donnie stands up and starts sorting his stuff away into his cabinets and draws. Once he’s done you grab his hand and lead him to the bedroom.

“I believe you and I need to have a bit of a talk, Donatello,” climbing onto the bed you turn and gesture for him to sit down.

“Sure, what’s up?” setting his mask on the nightstand, Donnie settles into bed next to you.

"I love you, very much, you know that right?" You start, staring at him. He nods his head, "Then you must know that I enjoy spending time with my boyfriend, right?" Again he nods his head. "My question to you is, do you like spending time with me?" You lean back and watch his face to gauge his reaction.

"Of course I do, why on Earth wouldn't I?" A look of bewilderment crosses his face, "When I'm with you I'm the happiest I've ever been!" Donnie grabs your hands and holds them close to his chest, "And I'd be a fool not to be".

Softly smiling at him, you lean up and rest your hand on the side of his face, "Then why do I barely see you anymore? I love you to the moon and back, but there is always something so godawfully important in your lab. It always take your attention away, and lately I've barely seen any of you. I consider myself to even be lucky to watch you get food out of the fridge!" With a light chuckle, you hope you got your point across.

As much as you loved watching him tinker around and create little inventions, you loved spending time with him more. Even after three solid years together the flame of chemistry between you two never died. In fact, the bond only grew stronger. But, it's strongest was when you two would be in each others physical company, which has been a rarity as of late.

"Wait, no, we've hung out plenty of times! Like last ni-",

"You were working on the computer until three in the morning.", you answered before he could finish.

"Oh! Then it was three days ago that we- " again you interjected him,

"Three days ago I was working a double shift and didn't come over at all." You exhale, slightly amused by his confusion. "Donatello, the last time we truly had any time together was a week ago. I've been trying to be understanding and let you do your own thing, but I miss you. I honest to god miss my boyfriend. I'm tired of the mumbled responses I get when I pop into the lab. I miss my "Hello beautiful" greetings that I would get from you. I miss my random kisses throughout the day. And most of all I haven't had sex in like two weeks. How can you expect me to still be sane when you look this good and won't pay attention to me? Hmm?" You fold your arms across your chest and pout. Donnie has been looking extra good lately and you haven't been able to get any of it!

"I'm so sorry, Y/N, I hadn't realized what's been going on. I've been so kept in my own thoughts and ideas that it just kind of took over me. How can I make it up to you?" He stares at you with pleading eyes.

"I have a few ideas in mind," smirking slyly you grab his hand, leading him further onto the bed for a night of fun. Suddenly you weren't as tired as you thought you were.

Mikey:

“Hey Mikey,” pulling out a chair, you sit down next to your boyfriend as he sketches away in his sketchbook.

“Hey Angelcakes, what’s up?” Putting down his pencils he looks up at you. You got him some art supplies for Christmas, knowing he was extremely talented.

“Nothing much I was about to go to the fridge and grab a bottle of soda. Do you want one?” Looking over his sketches you see that he was doodling funny pictures of his brothers.

“Yeah sure, that’d be great.” smiling up at you he leans over to give you a kiss.

Smirking, you walk into the kitchen area and make sure no ones around. As of lately Mikey has been a little busy with his art. He’s been running around town and practicing his graffiti and designs, which in turn has taken his attention away from you quite a bit. His lack of presence has left you to think, and that’s never a good thing because this is when a prank war starts. When you are left to your own devices and left “unsupervised” you come up with some whack shit, and this is one of them.

You walk over to the fridge to get a bottle of orange crush for your boyfriend and yourself. Reaching into your pocket you take out the roll of dental floss you placed there earlier. Setting the floss aside, you grab his bottle of soda and undo the cap and set that aside as well. Picking the floss container back up, you take out two small pieces and make an X over the rim of the bottle; reaching back into your pocket you pull out a single mentos mint and place it on the floss pieces. Quickly, you loosely screw the cap back on, just enough to hold everything in place, and grab some scissors.

After you had trimmed down the floss to where it couldn’t be seen anymore, you grab your bottle and head out to your awaiting boyfriend. When you walk out you notice that he’s still working on his art. Walking up you set both sodas aside and grab his face and kiss him. You use the distraction to move his artwork and tools aside so they don’t get ruined. Backing away you smile and wink at him and hand him his soda. He smiles back and stares at you as he uncaps his soda...only for it to start gushing all over his hand and then squirt up into his face.

“AH! Y/n, what did you do?!” he shouts as he quickly stands up and rushes over to the sink in the kitchen.

Mean while you’re still at the table laughing to the point where you’re snorting. You watch as he practically throws the bottle into the sink and stands there, dripping in orange crush soda with wide shocked eyes.

“I- I just put a mentos mint into your soda” you finally manage to get out in between laughs.

Slowly, Mikey starts to stalk towards you, still covered head to toe in sticky soda. “Oh y/n, I do believe I haven’t gotten a hug in quite some time. Why don’t you come over here?” A predatory glint sparks in his blue eyes.

Your heart stops, you start to panic because you’re wearing brand new clothes you just bought. Getting up from the table you go around to the back. “Mikey, let’s think about this, do you really wa- Ah! No! Mikey leave me alone! I just got these clothes!” he continues charging towards you with a smirk on his face.

“You should have thought about that before doing that, Anglecakes!” he laughed as he hopped over the soda covered table.

And suddenly, a prank war was born.

#TMNT #tmnt raphael #tmnt raph #tmnt leonardo #tmnt leo #tmnt donatello #tmnt Donnie #tmnt 2014 #tmnt 2016 #tmnt mikey #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt bayverse

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queercapwriting · 6 years ago

Text

Yaz’s Fight (Yaz is a Badass™ and the Doctor is a Disaster Gay™)

prompt from @itsadisasterthanksforinvitingme “Yaz loses her shit about something and 13 has to follow her while she solves the problem this time (and works out whatever she’s angry about). This time Yaz grabs the doctors hand and drags her along, and it’s Yaz’s plan that might fail, and Yaz’s monologue that we get to hear. All while the doctor helps and marvels at this amazing human.“

It was supposed to be a routine stop home, but they all should have known -- and maybe, really, they did -- that routine with the Doctor very seldom means ordinary.

Because the moment Yaz steps out into the Sheffield air, she knows something’s wrong. It’s obvious; it’s all over the brick walls the Doctor parked beside.

“Doctor, this isn’t right,” she calls back into the TARDIS, her smile fading. “No.”

She doesn’t explain and she doesn’t tell anyone to follow her.

Ryan, Graham, and the Doctor just... do.

It makes sense, in an oddly seamless kind of way.

Ryan looks around to try to make sense of what’s gotten Yaz so worked up.

Graham murmurs something about “now it’s both of them doing it.”

The Doctor licks her lips as she watches Yaz walk, as she pulls the TARDIS door shut behind her.

“What is it, Yaz?” she jogs lightly to catch up, exchanging a concerned but confident glance with Ryan.

“This isn’t right,” Yaz repeats, her fists in balls at her side.

“Okay. I can check the TARDIS specs again, but I do think we’ve got the right year -- “

“That’s not what’s wrong, Doctor,” Yaz stops walking abruptly.

The Doctor barrels forward into her. They reach to steady each other, the Doctor’s hands finding Yaz’s waist and Yaz letting her arm drop back behind her to steady the Doctor around her thigh.

Ryan chortles and Graham clears his throat.

“Alright?” the Doctor checks, her eyes sweeping up and down Yaz’s body.

“Yeah,” Yaz gulps, more breathless than a short walk, even brisk, would ever make her.

“So. Yasmin Khan. Tell me what isn’t right. I mean, specifically with why you walked off, not a whole list of everything wrong in the cosmos, because frankly, that’ll get long and depressing and -- “

“The school, Doctor. The school. Look.”

The Doctor looks in the direction Yaz points to, at a blank brick wall in the near distance.

“There’s no more mural,” the Doctor murmurs, and Yaz brightens slightly, almost like she’s proud. Like the roles are reversed -- Yaz has the lead and the Doctor has the sharp observation skills -- and she likes it, underneath her anger.

“No more mural,” she confirms, exchanging a significant glance with an open-mouthed Ryan. “Come on, then, Doctor,” Yaz squares her jaw and restarts her stride, taking the Doctor’s hand into her own and pulling her forward.

Graham nudges Ryan in the ribs, and Ryan nearly trips over himself.

Yaz doesn’t notice, and neither -- staring down at their connected hands like she’s never seen quite an appendage before -- does the Doctor.

“So what’s the deal with this mural, Doc -- er, Yaz?”

“Ryan should remember,” Yaz answers vaguely, still walking briskly toward the school, still holding the Doctor’s hand.

“It was a message,” Ryan explains, jogging slightly to catch up to his friends. “From those of us who were born here, to those of us who weren’t. Immigrants and refugees, you know?”

“The students in the middle school got together and made their school let them do the mural. Against xenophobia and imperialism and all that.”

“And now it’s gone,” Graham turns back to look at the wall, mystified.

“And it looks like it was never there, yeah,” Yaz comes to a halt just outside the school doors.

She only lets go of the Doctor’s hand when she needs one hand to open the door and the other to reach for her badge.

She doesn’t look too happy about the loss of contact, and the Doctor looks baffled. And intrigued. And amazed.

And maybe something that Ryan might call turned on, but just maybe.

“’Scuse us, sweetie,” she drops to one knee a meter or two in front of a young boy on his way out of class and into the restroom. “My name’s Yaz, and these are my friends. Ryan, Graham, and... the Doctor. What’s yours?”

“Jeffrey,” the boy answers, gamely but shyly.

“Jeffrey. A great name. Now listen, Jeffrey, do you remember that big painting on the wall outside the school?”

The boy nods. Normally, the Doctor is all about children, when they’re around. But right now, she can’t take her eyes off of Yasmin Khan.

“That’s good. Do you know who painted over it? Or when?”

“The aliens did it,” the boy leans in to whisper. “Not the bad word for other humans, I mean. The ones with magic science who come from another planet. Most of them were nice, but a few, they -- “

“Excuse me,” heels click down the hall, and Yaz rises off of her knee.

“Jeffrey, go finish your business and then get back to your class.”

The boy nods obediently, but not before giving Yaz a long, significant look, and jerking his head over his shoulder toward the new, authoritative voice.

“That’s no way to talk to a child, with that tone,” the Doctor speaks for the first time, like instinct, but with a backward glance from Yaz, she smiles and quiets down, happy to defer to her... friend? More?

Fam.

Fam works.

“And four adults strolling into a middle school with no -- Yasmin Khan? Ryan Sinclair? Well, you two have grown.”

“And you... haven’t aged a day, Mr. Pierce,” Yaz tilts her head from one side to another. “And we were just popping in to check on our alma mater, you know -- we noticed the mural outside’s been washed away. Not even painted over with something new, just... erased.”

“Times have changed, Ms. Khan. And your other friends are -- “

“Graham, Ryan’s granddad, and my...”

Yaz’s stomach flips, the Doctor’s eyes go wide, Ryan holds his breath, and Graham wishes he had popcorn to watch Yaz parkour her way out of this one.

“My... the Doctor. This is the Doctor.”

“You bring your physician to visit your old school?”

“She’s not my...” Yaz takes a deep breath. “Oy, what is that smell? Are you all experimenting with a different cleaner, or what?”

“I smell nothing,” Mr. Pierce straightens his shoulders.

“No, Yaz is right, it’s like...” The Doctor smacks her lips, and Yaz doesn’t even bother trying to repress the smile that forms in her eyes. “Like marble and cedar? With a drop of...” She breathes in with exaggerated depth. “Is that lemon oil?”

“Lemon oil, definitely,” Graham helps as Ryan nods.

“And you dropped by to... smell your old school hallways?”

“No, sir, it’s as I’ve said: the mural is gone, and it seems rather sudden, and I didn’t hear about any movement from the students to replace it with anything else or -- “

“As I said, Ms. Khan. Times change.”

“Yeah, and they haven’t been changing for the good, in case you haven’t noticed. They’ve been spiraling down and down, and that mural was a monument to the fact that our students are better than the world they’re growing up in. Did the students say they wanted to take it down? Because they sure fought to get it painted in the first place, barely two years ago now, so what -- “

“If you’d like to learn more about our school’s policies, I suggest you set an appointment,” Mr. Pierce interrupts, his eyes distant and his voice cold. He’s staring over Yaz’s shoulder at the Doctor’s face, like Yaz hadn’t spoken at all.

“Oy, look at Yaz while she’s talking to you,” Ryan scolds, and the Doctor smirks at his defiance and beauty.

“That’s alright, Ryan,” Yaz’s tone is measured and careful, her eyes fixed on Mr. Pierce’s face. “I think Mr. Pierce just gave us everything we need.”

She doesn’t say good bye to the man, and she doesn’t say anything to her friends, but they all follow her.

She takes the Doctor’s hand again as she reverses direction and stalks back out of the school.

“So,” she says as the big double doors close behind them, but she doesn’t let go of the Doctor’s hand. “Mr. Pierce was replaced or something by one of the aliens little Jeffrey was talking about, because that man would have aged in the last decade, and because -- “

“The lemon zing in the air!” the Doctor contributes triumphantly, and Yaz squeezes her hand and kisses her knuckles too quickly to realize the implications of what she’s done.

The Doctor trips over herself and Ryan would too, if Graham hadn’t caught him.

“Exactly, the lemon zing. Because I remember you saying something about the after effects of Zygon duplication, that scent, that taste... And if someone was invested in maintaining the status quo, taking down that mural, stripping the students of their ability to support each other, to see beyond borders, that... it makes sense, doesn’t it? Turning the population against itself as preparation for an invasion.”

“So what do we do?” Ryan asks, and even though Yaz stops walking and looks at the Doctor instinctively, it’s the Doctor’s turn to squeeze Yaz’s hand.

“Your turf, your rules, Yasmin Khan.” Her voice is rich and her eyes are deep with admiration.

It only takes her an hour of rifling through the TARDIS; of rambling through her own thought process out loud; of taking one of Graham’s sandwiches and eating it while poring over months’ worth of school newspaper archives with Ryan; of putting her hands on the Doctor’s hips when she needs to pass behind her to look at the result of yet another projection she’d asked the TARDIS to run; to come up with her plan.

The first thing they do is find Jeffrey again -- he’s more than eager to help -- and then it’s off to the races.

They find the real Mr. Pierce plugged into a life-support chamber in the school’s basement, and Yaz, this time, is the one to explain to him everything that’s going on. To explain that he’ll be alright, that she knows this is confusing, but the students are fine and he’s going to be fine, too.

It’s Yaz who gets to explain her plan to the fake Mr. Pierce, emphasizing the point about how ironic it is to stir up xenophobic fears amongst humans while trying to colonize the entire planet, bit by bit, school by school.

It’s Yaz who gets to explain that the students aren’t going to stand for it; it’s Yaz who gets to tell him to walk outside with her and see the students of his middle school out there with Ryan, Graham, and the Doctor, repainting the mural even bigger and better than it had been the first time.

Ryan and Jeffrey are helping each other mix some paint, and Graham is supervising a group of eighth graders outlining the new design on the wall.

The Doctor, though -- even in her new white smock, already covered in a rainbow smear of paint -- is staring right at Yaz already, wonder and awe at her companion in her eyes.

“You were amazing today, Yaz,” the Doctor tells her that night over cocoa in one of the many TARDIS kitchens.

“Like you are every day,” Yaz counters easily, softly, and both of them remember the feeling of their hands connected.

“Like you are every day,” the Doctor returns, her hand hovering between reaching for Yaz’s and tucking her hair back behind her own ear.

Yaz reaches up and does it for her.

Their eyes meet and the Doctor gulps, hard.

Yaz clears her throat and tries not to glance at the Doctor’s lips.

She fails.

She panics.

“Best be making sure the boys aren’t getting themselves into trouble,” she murmurs, and the Doctor nods.

“Good night, Yasmin Khan,” the Doctor whispers, hope trembling in her voice.

“Good night, Doctor,” Yaz returns, the same hope steady in her own.

One day.

#thasmin #thasmin fic #thirteen x yaz #thirteenth doctor #thasmin fanfic

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stereksecretsanta · 6 years ago

Text

Merry Christmas, @callmecracker!

Merry Christmas!! I hope you like it! xoxoxo

Read on AO3

******

Windows vs Doors

It's christmas eve when Stiles' dad, just, casually invites Derek over for dinner. His dad cited needing to get to know the Pack's Alpha, but considering the glint in the sheriff's eye and the fact that Stiles and Derek have, essentially, been sneaking around since the very instant Stiles turned eighteen—yeah, he isn't buying it.

By the look on Derek's face when Stiles opens the door for him, the sheer nervousness rolling off of him in waves, Stiles has a feeling he isn't buying it either. Still, he drags the man in, fingers digging into his elbow, and tries to reassure, "Don't worry, he won't bite, he's probably just worried about how my training's going, since I still come back home sporting bruises more often than not."

Derek raises an eyebrow at him as Stiles leads him- arm looped through Derek's, an overly familiar touch, but one he can't seem to restrain himself from- to the dining room, and most of the tension seems to have evaporated from his tumultuous tsunami eyes by now, which, as far as Stiles is concerned, is a win.

"Yes, yes, I know, what're you supposed to do with an insubordinate Mage who never listens to you, and throws themselves headfirst into the line of danger without even an ounce of thought for their own self-preservation—I could recite this conversation in my sleep we've had it so many times."

Derek raises his eyebrows, points out, "You could try being a little more careful," but his tone is light, and his eyes are glimmering, now, all exasperated affection instead of wary stress, so Stiles just grins at him, feeling satisfied, before letting go of his hold on the man's arm to nudge him toward a chair, sitting to the one directly beside it.

"Meh," he intones, shrugging. "I think I'd rather keep my perfect track-record of saving your ass."

"Well, I'd like to keep my perfect track-record of not having that heart attack you keep predicting for me," the sheriff cuts in, as he swans through the kitchen's archway with a few platters of delicious-smelling food. "So, it'd be nice if you started coming back to me in one piece more often."

"He will, sir," Derek says, without prompting, back straight, entire demeanor having done a complete 180. Stiles wonders if it's his dad's station, the fact that he's Stiles' dad, or the fact that he's a dad, in general, either way...

"Huh. It usually takes a lot more for him to engage in conversation."

Derek sighs, heavily, like he doesn't know why he puts up with this shit.

"Uh, sorry. Shitty brain-to-mouth filter, which... really didn't need to be explained, did it?"

His dad pinches the bridge of his nose with a groan, before sharing a vaguely commiserating look with Derek that immediately has Stiles on his toes because no. The very thought of his boyfriend and his dad becoming besties, and somehow conspiring against him to lock him away until he can't get so much as a papercut is a horrifying, and strangely realistic, idea.

Then, as the dishes get served, his dad says, mischevious glint in his eye, "It's a lot easier using the front door, isn't it?" And, oh, god, he knows, he knows.

This is what he gets, for having someone notoriously allergic to doors as his boyfriend, he knew, he knew, that one of their nosy ass neighbors was going to see Derek climbing out of his window one of these days and go running straight to his dad with the juicy gossip.

"He has every little old lady in this town on his payroll," Stiles had told Derek once, naked and sweaty and splayed out, content, on his sheets, to the tune of an exaggerated eye roll and a disbelieving snort. "They're all spies, I swear," he'd said. "Cheek-pinching, cookie baking, grandmotherly spies."

Derek had just finished slipping on his shoes, kissed Stiles on the temple, and promptly parkoured out of the window like a fucking ninja, not believing him for even a second.

Stiles pierces him with his best I told you so glare, now.

Derek does a strange canting eyebrow shrugging move that vaguely translates to, Well, what the hell are we supposed to do about it now?

Stiles makes a waving gesture with his hand and his chin that he hopes Derek will take to mean, Roll with the punches.

Derek sighs and flashes a Stiles' dad a bright, hopeful, Please, god, I hope I'm making a good impression sort of smile.

There's an odd sort of wistful fondness in the smile his dad offers in turn, it's the same kind of smile he wears when he talks about Stiles' mom, about burnt pancakes and forgotten anniversaries and the night she finally got that positive pregnancy test and ran toward the bed to start bouncing on it, screaming like a chimpanzee, not at all minding the fact that it was barely two in the morning and her husband was still trying to sleep. Stiles wonders what, exactly, wove that smile into being.

Maybe it's just the general spirit of christmas?

He gets an answer to his unasked question when his dad murmurs, "You two remind me of me and Claudia," before tucking into his meal, which is just as well, since it gives them a moment to get over their shock.

Stiles tries not to sputter.

Derek tries not to gape.

He has a feeling they both fail.

All in all, the dinner ends up being less awkward and stress-inducing than more than half the parties involved thought it was going to be, right up until the end, when his dad shakes Derek's hand and says, by way of goodbye, "If you hurt my son, I will kill you." A short, cutting, deadly pause, before he clarifies, "Slowly."

Derek's swallow is audible, and Stiles' cheeks are burning so bright he's pretty sure he could beat rudolph in a contest right now, if he tried. Still, his dad already knows, and it's christmas fucking eve, so Stiles pulls Derek in before he can leave entirely, kisses his eyelids, his cheeks, his nose, his lips, says, "I love you, idiot," and, "he'll also kill you if you don't get me an awesome present," to which his father provides amused, but loyal, support, and, "drive safe."

After Derek is gone, Stiles' dad asks, "Does he make you happy?"

And Stiles rambles in the vehement affirmative until his father envelops him in his arms and says, "Okay," like that was all he needed.

The next day, Stiles finds out that his dad now has Derek's phone number, and they're almost certainly finding comfort in each other, ranting about Stiles' crazy. He also finds out that the Stilinski house is going to host the Pack's christmas party, and that his dad's gotten presents for every single member of the Pack, which is...

Honestly, after everything they've been through to get to this point, after all the struggle it had taken to get the sheriff comfortable around all this supernatural stuff in the first place? well, this is five hundred miles in the right direction.

The way Derek turns into a puddle of sunshine-goo whenever his dad calls him son is just the cherry on top.

So is the key to Derek's loft, tied in a crimson, snowflake embroidered, bow.

"At least I know how to use the front door," Stiles teases laughingly, but only manages to love his Sourwolf all the more the next time he ends up leaning out of the window, watching the man scale down his house and blow a jaunty kiss before running off into the distance.

Oh, well; we all have our things.

Let the old ladies gossip.

#callmecracker #stereksanta18 #*fic18 #*gifts18

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happymeishappylife · 6 years ago

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So I finally beat KH3

As many of you know, I’ve spent my time delaying beating the game mainly because I didn’t have tons of time with work and studying for an exam to play, but also after waiting for 17 years to play the game, I didn’t want to rush through it. Especially because I had a fun time doing all the extra/silly quests in the game and exploring the worlds. But once it got very grindy and I learned the secret reports could only be done after beating the story (hate that mechanic), I decided to finally finish the story. And now I want to provide my critique on the game based on my initial experience.

And in case any of you have extended out your playthrough, I’ll leave spoilers below and warn you here. So SPOILERS!

Story:

Everyone whether they have played Kingdom Hearts or not, knew before this game started that the storyline has become complicated and ridiculous, but its part of the charm. I think there was some hesitation to see the storyline finish out, but I’m glad that this game did what it promised and at least closed the Xehanort chapter. However, it was not satisfying to see him “die.”

I mean this dude has been fucking EVERYONE over for decades. And has always been one step ahead, so of course finishing him off was the best thing the game could give you. But then they wanted to go through the whole game picturing him as a little kid, lost in fantasies and theories of light and dark and so at the end as a magical ghost version of Master Eraqus appears and forgives him for literally destroying everything, we’re (the player) supposed to be okay with him turning back into an innocent little kid and just disappearing? I hated it. I don’t have any sympathy for this dude and the fact that they tried to make him sympathetic, made me mad. And that also had to do for the very unsatisfactory battles and “deaths” of the new organization 13 crew because other than Vanitas and Terra-Xehanort, I didn’t care about any of them, though we’ll dive in deeper to the more problematic ones in a second. So to conclude, I’m glad that this chapter is closed.

Okay, so when I say problematic Organization members, let’s talk about the ones who have more history than the game. Not the ones who apparently just love to die over and over again (and yes I’m aware that those battles weren’t deaths, that these people are going to be real again, but that’s even more of a let down to be honest, but that could just be me.) So let’s start with a focus on Young Xehanort. Now that he’s gone back to his time knowing that his ultimate plan is failing, does history just play out? Does he forget everything? That’s the only loose end, I’m cautious about and don’t trust that the game designers will leave alone. Then again when I think of great moments of potentially great storyline the game designers just blink an eye at, so hopefully I’m wrong. Next, Xion. How exactly did she get to be there again? I’m assuming a replica, but all of a sudden she was there again with no pomp and circumstance. Which seems odd because I thought she was part of Sora… Especially since she is connected to Kairi still… But okay, cool she’s back and that magically made Roxas appear? Yay! But how? Replica? Not? I don’t know. He just magically appeared. Let’s move on, like the game designers did.

Now for the main two members I’m interested in. Thanks to completing the secret reports, I’m very intrigued about this storyline of this missing girl, Isa, and Lea. Mainly because this girl means something to them, but supposedly she means nothing to no one, so what’s the story there? I hope that gets explored somewhere. The second is Xigbar/Luxu because why did he have to be the important one. He’s super annoying! But apparently that means there might be more of him in the future… Boo! But of course we need more plot for more games, so lets see what happens. Especially since he ties in to the teased storyline of the black box. I mean I totally forgot about it, Maleficent, or Pete until that ending scene so it will be interesting to see where it goes from there.

Now let’s focus on the main group of characters. Beginning with the trio who to me has had so much potential, so many unanswered questions, and a completely heartfelt, but at the same time lackluster ending. Aqua, Ventus, and Terra are finally reunited and then practically forgotten at the end of the game. It’s so disappointing. I mean Aqua and Terra are some of the strongest and most kickass characters and they get reduced to just orphan children which sucks. I mean I hope they get peace now, but I also hope they come back super strong, if they come back at all.

Alright, unpopular opinion ahead, you’ve been warned…

I’m surprised the game designers decided to “murder” Kairi. I mean technically they did send Sora to the afterworld, so I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised, but beyond my surprise that’s the only emotion I felt. I used to love her, but really… Kairi’s a useless character. She barely fights, she has no other conviction other than she is a princess of light and a constant light to Sora, and her dialogue is so vapid and unimportant when its meant to be sincere. To be honest, I was glad when Xemnas took her. I mean, she made Sora look weak, when he’s not at all, and I was glad she was gone. But then that brings me to the biggest let down of the game and that’s the end.

I don’t get Kairi and Sora’s link anymore. They’ve spent way more time a part then together at this point, how are they still in love? They don’t really act like it either. So I was devastated when Sora goes on this journey to find her and the end scene shows her alive and well and him just disappearing? Fuck that noise! At least the secret ending eluded to the fact he’s not dead and also that he’s reunited with his boyfriend, because I’m sorry, he and Riku are the ones who should be in a relationship. It’s made sense for so long and their relationship has depth. But for some reason the game designers are scared to commit to it, so instead they want you to believe the whole, well if Kairi is with Sora, then Namine must be with Riku even though that’s semi creepy since Namine and Kairi are somewhat the same. It’s like saying both boys are into the same girl, when really they are into each other, duh…

This also is because I adore Sora to death. I’ve always called him my monkey boy, and he’s an idiot most of the time and naïve, but he grew a lot in this game so I’m sad to see him be forced to go pining after Kairi just because this game gave him so much more maturity.

So we’ll see where things go. I hope the secret ending is an illusion to the next game, but if that means Sora’s in the real world, that’s a bizarre thought. At least he learned selfie tricks to help him get by in today’s day and age.

As I mentioned I didn’t like some of the storyline directions. I mean they did a great job of working with the worlds, but then there were weird moments like when we come across Vanitas the first time and Donald, Goofy, and Sora are just like, that’s weird, but he must be crazy. Not the psycho dark side of Ven they’ve been told about. Instead, let’s just forget they ran into him for a bit. Okay… Then when you have Sora on his knees, crying about the death of his friends, how do you make him so cheerful to learn he’s essentially dead as he reached the Final World and wants to come back to visit Chirithy? Okay… It all really comes to a head when you have to have Woody pretty much say what we’re all thinking to Young Xehanort which is essentially “I don’t know where you are going with this, but I don’t care” to sum up the problems with the storyline.

Now beyond this, I love the moments in the worlds and how the true essence of the game was captured as Sora, Donald, and Goofy just stumble into worlds, don’t understand a thing, and yet somehow make friends. Pirates was the best example of this because all the main characters pretended they didn’t exist. It was hilarious. I was just sad there weren’t more worlds. I mean what they did was great, but they could have had more and added more depth.

Also one of the best moments gets a shoutout, because having Yen Sid be awesome at the end was such a thrill!

Gameplay:

Overall, really, really fun! I loved that they brought together all the elements of the games, like forms, focus drive, links, and magic into the game and then added the ridiculous elements of the attraction based attacks, wall running, and parkour moves into this addition. It made for fast paced, action packed, awesome flow during fight scenes with silly consequences thanks to all the keyblade forms. I also loved the uniqueness to all the blades and the overall attention to detail they gave each and everyone of them. Especially how they interacted in other worlds. It was fantastic!

I loved that instead of journal, we got a phone. I loved that you could take pictures and get new selfie poses (though why that’s when most of the game is over, I don’t understand). Heck half the fun was taking pictures of random people just because you could. It was fun! I also loved the Classic Kingdom Games because they were well thought out to play off the old school arcade games. The keyblade you get for collecting all of them is silly but powerful which is great! The only thing I didn’t like, like I mentioned above, was that the secret reports you can’t even collect until after beating the game. I would have rather gotten everything and then beaten it, but it forced my hand. Sigh…

I loved cooking with Remy! That may have been my favorite part! It’s just a sweet way to include Ratatouille and not diminish the whole point of that story and you get to see Sora be a terrible cook, because he is. The keyblade you get for helping Remy is also my favorite one in the game. I want to make it so badly and cosplay with it. Plus there was something satisfying at the end by trying to defeat Xehanort with a frying pan and screaming, “Flambe his Ass!” that added to the mood.

I loved travelling through the worlds, I loved the openness of the maps, even though they still guided you places. I loved the aesthetic and the Unreal Engine made everything gorgeous. It got annoying after a while to hear Goofy and Donald talk about finding nearby ingredients, but helpful when looking for all the damn emblems! I loved their costumes and the way they treated the design for Toy Story and Monsters Inc. I’m in love with Sora’s Pirate’s costume, I want to also make that and cosplay in that! Maybe a mix between the that costume and keyblade? Could be fun!

The gummiship was a nice mix between 1 and 2’s style, though the fights were ridiculous and hurt my hands from trying to beat the missions. I loved the idea of constellations, but why were the designs so random? I also love the ‘Treasure Planets’ though can we have an actual Treasure Planet World? That would be amazing!!

There’s two main things about the gameplay I didn’t like though. First, the boss battles were too easy. I mean except for not protecting my pirate ship, which was bullshit, I never once died. All the cutscenes where Sora’s heavy breathing or on the ground defeated, I was like, this is crap because this was so easy. I want a challenge! So I’ll play again on Proud mode and see if it’s better. I mean not even the secret battles were hard, but admittedly I was battling them around level 70 by that point so that could be why…

And I wish they had done the fights with the Organization members better. I mean it was so jaunting to fight three enemies and kill one just to have a pause in the fight where everyone let so-and-so have their last words. Thoughtful, I guess, but dumb and if you want each death to be meaningful you could have done it so much better. Because I could have felt more for Larxene, if Marluxia wasn’t about to Axe me, ten seconds later. What I thought would have been cool is one-on-one battles and playing as all the different keyblade wielders. I mean, don’t tease me by letting me play as Riku a couple times, and Aqua once, if you won’t let me play with them at the end! That’s so not fair! I mean I love Sora, and he’s powerful, but there would have been so much more sweet justice getting to fight certain members as the other characters. Like Roxas for example. How badass would that have been to come back and beat down on Saix and Xemnas? But they didn’t let me!!!! Sad day…

Overall Rating: 8/10 Because ultimately, I did have fun. I will play it again despite the issues I had, and it still is one of my all time series.

Thanks for reading if you made it this far!

#kh3 #ending thoughts #spoilers #sora #riku

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