#tried to kill me once and threatened to kill me uncountable times but ended up dying himself.. embarrassing... | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

otomehoes · 4 years ago

Text

S/O who can fence — Leonardo, Comte, Napoleon, Arthur and Jean

pairings: reader x comte, leonardo x reader, napoleon x reader, arthur x reader and jean x reader

warnings: use of weapons, mentions of nsfw [napoleon’s part], mentions of violence [jean],

A/N: rn I feel ✨blessed✨ with this request ahdhdh, also I had to study a little bit about fence things and movements

❥ Leonardo Da Vinci

actually he didn’t know that you fences until he saw you one day sneaking out to the practice room where napoleon and jean used to fence

his curiosity is bout to kill him so he follows you to see what you are up to

but when he sees you with napoleon fencing so fiercely but at the same time so elegantly

oh god he can’t stop staring at you

when you notice him you can’t help but feel shy

HES BOMBARDING YOU WITH QUESTIONS

also proud really really proud

you always liked april because of its fresh days. also because you could go to fence without getting worried about the weather. it was a secret that you wanted to keep for yourself. not because you felt embarrassed or anything, but fencing was something that always made you feel confident, it was only you and your fast movements towards your opponent .

however that day it was different. you didn’t know that your beautiful and curious boyfriend leonardo was following you. it was normal for you to disappear a few hours once a week. he was walking when he saw you running towards the practice room where sometimes napoleon or jean went to practice fencing. with light steps Leonardo followed you like a shadow.

his eyes went wide when he saw you. napoleon was fencing with someone, he couldn’t see who it was, until he saw through the fencing mask a long and silky (h/c) hair. and then he knew who was napoleon opponent. but what took his breathing was how fast and how elegant was your movements, the way you moved and how you thrusted your attacks toward the former french emperor threatening and pushing him towards the edge, made him so proud that he couldn’t keep hiding anymore and revealing himself to the both of you.

you saw a shadow moving behind you, you took a glance to see who it was, surprised you saw how leonardo was standing at the door looking at you with sparking eyes. you regretted your actions when you saw the tip of his foil pointing at you. with a sigh you dropped your fencing weapon, showing your defeat.

you heard a few steps coming from behind, turning you saw leonardo smiling at you “cara mia, you should have told me you knew fencing, next time I’ll be more careful to not make you mad” he said while you punched slightly at his arm trying to cover the hard blush you had. leonardo only knew that his beautiful girlfriend was a really interesting woman who always managed to surprise him even more.

❥ Comte de Saint-Germain

he knew it

but he respected your privacy

he didn’t told you, but the reason that he made the fencing room more big and with new equipmentit was because of you

sometimes he went to see you, but secretly

when you told him he did as he never knew

pikachu meme face

his respect for you will only grew to a 5000%

“mademoiselle you’re really amazing, it the first time that I find someone who can keep up with me” jean’s eyes were full of admiration while he praised you. with a blush you thanked him, at first it was hard to convince jean to practice some fencing with you, he thought that he would end up hurting you, but you assured him that you would be alright.

what the both of you didn’t know was how a pair of caramel eyes observed all your movements. with a smile comte turned back to his office knowing that in a few minutes you’ll be there with him. his heart was beating so fast that he couldn’t even think properly, your elegants moves, the way you dodged all the attacks that jean sent to you was something breathtaking. his love for you only grew more and more. he knew he did right falling in love with you, not only your heart was strong but your body too, and the fierce way you attacked jean proved how much he admired his beautiful girlfriend.

running towards comte’s room you arrived at the entrance of the door. you didn’t see how much time passed since you started to practice with jean. your fencing skills was a secret that you wanted to keep to yourself, and the only person who knew about that was jean and napoleon, the first one whom you often staying long hours practicing.

carefully you knocked his door to proceed with opening it , you saw comte looking at some papers with a frown, probably more letter from leonardo’s family. sometimes you felt bad for the renaissance man and for comte too, who had to write or burn another pile of letters.

“Abel, you should take a break, come here with me” you said while walking towards the sofa. his eyes meet yours and with a smile he went towards you sitting next to you with an elegance that could steal anyone’s breathe.

“also... sorry for being so late” you said looking at him, his eyes inspected yours, looking for an explanation. “well, I’ve been wanting to tell you this from a long time ago, but I never found the right moment” taking a deep breath you prepared yourself “once or twice a week I go with jean or napoleon to practice some fencing, nothing too dangerous”

“and did you had fun today?” he asked you, you looked at him surprised, you didn’t expect him to be this calm, and then you saw it, it was just a second, but that tiny and momentary spark in his eyes told you everything “you knew it don’t you?” you asked him, a smile appeared on his lips “yes, but you know what chérie? knowing that you can defend yourself so fiercely only makes me fall more and more in love with you”

“s-shut up d-don’t be dumb” you told him while trying to evade his intense gaze, your ears burning like fire. it didn’t matter how but he always made you feel so amazing, and that was one between of the uncountable reasons that you loved him.

❥ Napoleon Bonaparte

he’s proud of his nunuche

it’s something normal to see the two of you fencing til death

won’t admit it but he sometimes goes easy on you

that’s until you start teasing him

so yeah most of your sparring seasons ends up with the both of you lying on the floor trying to breathe properly

it was common to meet up with napoleon wednesdays and fridays at the sparring room. “if you want to evade more faster the attacks flex your knees a little bit more, it’ll be more easy to move too” while his face had a serious facade, his eyes were soft. napoleon loved this. spending time with the person he loved only made his heart to beat so fast that he sometimes wondered if he would die right there.

following your boyfriend’s advice you flexed a little more your legs, a felling of comfort appearing on your body. he really knows even when it’s not his own body. A mischievous grin appeared on your face, the odds for your idea to success were low, but it was worth trying it.

“let’s make a bet” your voice echoed the room, napoleon looked at you curious before adding “tell me”.

“if I lose this round, I’ll be at your mercy the whole night, any wish will be fulfilled by me” you smiled and winked at him before continuing “but if win, you will be at my mercy, I can request anything, what do you think? deal or not deal”

and now there you were, both of you lying on the ground, trying to catch your breathing and laughing at the same time, you looked at napoleon, he seemed to relaxed, so free, sometimes you cursed at yourself for not having a camera to take a photo. the view was worthy, really worthy. his eyes met yours, a smile appearing on his beautiful lips “let’s say that we’re both the winners” he said while getting up while offering his hand to you to do the same thing.

moments like this were really worthy.

❥ Arthur Conan Doyle

he discovered in the worst situation ever

it was past midnight when the Arthur decided to pay a visit to you

nah he was just horny

entering at you room without making any sound who could startle you he tried to went towards your bed when the tip which seemed from a sword was pointing in the middle of his face

he was ✨shocked✨

and screamed

actually his soul almost left his body

when you saw it was him you started to apologize like a crazy

he totally forgot why he went to your room

he made a mental note to not storm like that at your bedroom anymore

you were supposed to be sleeping, but for any reason your body didn’t want to. but something told you that probably it was because of dazai’s yōkai story. with a sigh you closed the windows and started to prepare yourself to go to bed. that was until you heard a tiny but almost inaudible footsteps at the corridor. each step seemed to be more and more closer to your door.

the probably that someone could be up at this hour was almost impossible, you thought about arthur, but he told you that he probably would go to bed earlier because he had some business to attend at the town tomorrow.

in times like that you felt grateful for the infernal fencing classes that your parents told you to attend when you were younger. with careful steps, you stood behind the door, with your foile in hand. and then the door opened, with fast reflexes you pointed at the ghost- wait, at the person, you heard a scream which made you scream too, turning the lights on you saw arthur with a surprise face almost terrified.

“OH– ARTHUR IM SO SORRY” you screamed throwing the foile and taking with both of your hands you boyfriends handsome face “oh god oh god, I really thought you were a ghost or something, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry!”

taking a big breath arthur looked at you, now more composed and calm “tell me, did you want something” you talked taking his hand with yours, he looked at you, and then at the door “I- I don’t remember”

❥ Jean D’Arc

he didn’t expect it at all

he didn’t have words

just like Arthur he found out in the worst situation

it was one of your late night walkings when a group of three men approached to the both of you

feeling the danger jean wrapped an arm around you his jaw tensed and his hand on the tip of his sword

he saw that the other man had one too

he told you to hide

after the incident sometimes asks you to fence with him sometimes

it’s just an excuse to spend time with you

“jean I think that they’re following us” you told your boyfriend, his grip on your shoulder tensed up, his beautiful purple eyes were darker, jaw clenched “mademoiselle when I give you the sign you run, okay?”

you looked at jean and then the three man, something caught your eye. the man on the left had a sword, a big one. you knew that that classes that fencing classes would be worthy in the future. you looked at jean who was prepared to defend you from that group of men. but who would protect him, without thinking further and with a fast movement you took the man’s sword elegantly pointing at him death in the eye.

there weren’t three surprised faces but four, jean’s face got totally decomposed, surprise written on his face. he never, not in a million of years would ever imagine you being able to handle a sword with that determination “jean I appreciate your concern about my well-being but if you protect me, who will protect you?”

and with that words the soldier was preparing a whole wedding inside his head. you made him see all the good thing in the world, and he swore for his life that he would protect that perception of the world for you. but for the first time, in many years he let his pride and stubbornness apart, he promised to himself that he would never let you go. not you, not his warrior angel.

— yōkai or 妖怪 are a class of supernatural monsters and spirits in Japanese folklore. The word 'yōkai' is made up of the kanji for "bewitching; attractive; calamity" and "spectre; apparition; mystery; suspicious."

#ikevamp #x reader #ikemen vampire #ikemen vampire headcanons #ikemen vampire scenarios #ikemen vampire x reader #comte x reader #Leonardo x reader #napoleon x reader #jean d’arc scenarios #jean d’arc headcanons #jean x reader #Arthur x reader #cybrid #otome games

291 notes · View notes

the-deep-fog · 3 years ago

Text

The moon and sun have lost themselves to obscurity, and Fog descends. The environment is as classic a superpowered showdown setting one can get while still playing hospitality to a meandering mist that prefers uncountably many corners to hide itself in. One villain, a radioactive rebel holding to life like a weed that takes in pesticides for dessert, scouts the area, freshly healed and eager for a bout of vengeance. Another, the spitefully surviving embodiment of Harlan Ellison’s worst fears, calmly scours the playing field with no end of possible ending gambits stored in its motherboard/mind. Fully beknownst to their individual selves, whispered wonders and warnings reach them from unseen mouths yawning in the mist, subtly and ever so maddeningly guiding them further within the misty maze. Until, they meet. “Oh, Haricot,” CD crows, “back so soon? Why couldn’t you have stayed in the ground to rot a little longer? Are you that eager for another easy loss?” “Far from it, Chess,” returns Haricot. “Surely you don’t think I’d simply waste my time while relieved of your presence for ever so short a while?” It scoffs. “I should hope so, or else this will be over far too quickly to even be fun.” Ey smirk and start to reply, but cut emself off as the air between the two collects, gathers, and confuses into the outline of a figure sitting cross-legged with its chin resting in its hands. “Why, hello you two, Fancy meeting you here.” Both let off annoyed sighs (the similarities stopping there). CD speaks up. “Ugh, can’t you ever take this seriously?” “Yeah, way to kill the vibe,” Haricot follows up. Their complaints are met with only a grin. Suddenly directly in their faces, Fog actually replies, “So. I bet you’re wondering why I’m here.” The villainous duo look bemused, in a conniving sort of way. Haricot speaks first. “Believe it or not, I do know why you’re here- and Chess, trust me when I say it’s not a pleasant reason for you.” Incredulous, Chess replies, “Excuse me, but it’s not like I don’t know their reason for being here, and though your reaction seems improper it’s not like it matters that you think you know the situation, when in fact you’re in for...” “I didn’t lie, you know. To either of you.” Fog’s everlasting grin shifts slightly to a smirk, and the two rivals come to a realization at the same time. “Oh, you slippery little- “I knew that promise was too good to be true!” Well aware that riling up two of the biggest supervillains round the block leaves them in dire straits, the formless figure untangles their stature, giving off the appearance of taking a fighting stance. “Now, now, I’m not going back on my word at all! I shall deal as much damage as I can, just as promised. It’s only up to you whether to take advantage of the situation as it concerns your adamant adversary, or, yknow. Direct your avenging attention elsewhere.” Haricot reaches for a thorny beanstalk as they rise from the earth in numbers. “If you get dealt with permanently through all this, that’s one less thing getting in the way of me taking down Chess for good.” CD, in tandem, tessellates a jagged aspect of the ground and nods. “The less you bug me, Fog, the easier I’ll have it claiming victory over Haricot as well.” Zer smile grows even further, accompanied by the emergence of eyes from countless nooks and crannies in The Fog one could not imagine. For just because nobody could possibly know how one misty menace might pose a tangible threat, inflict damage of a directly mortal kind, it could be true all the same.

...

“Why are you doing this?” shouts Haricot, steadily growing a host of shrubs to shield emself with. “You must have a motive, nobody ever does stuff like this without a motive.” The Fog laughs, gleeful as ever, a booming sound that seems to come from nowhere and everywhere at once. “You think I have a motive? That I am driven by anything to do what I do? Such things are the creations of you individuals; I have never had use for them. I go, and I act, and if that’s too much for you to comprehend then...” Though irradiating to demolition an eye that can hardly be described as there at all is a daunting task, Haricot pulls it off with determined flair. “Yeah, but you’re clearly going after me and Chess with some specificity- why go through all that extra effort? I know we’re not easy targets.” Fog lunges from & through nothing, resting in midair directly in front of them and looking at them intensely- less in a means of observation and more as mere eye contact for the first time they can think of. “Oh, the questions I ask have you asking questions in turn, what a wonderful relationship we have!” Haricot takes a step back, trying to develop personal space in a place where space itself can hardly be relied on, much less personhood, while Fog holds almost violently still amid the malevolent maelstrom. “I ask you this because you ask me the very same. Never has my question been, ‘why do you do this?’ because never have you, the one in my domain, done something humans don’t, and never has your question of ‘why’ been something I-” The ground beneath Haricot’s feet, steady as carbon-14, dissolves into murky air. Fog is torn to shreds above em as ey hurtle an unfathomable distance downward, till a web of vines and sludgy wood dense enough to support em forms. Though unclimbable walls extend around them, and depths great enough to distort the definitions of up and down yawn in every other direction, Fog reemerges from around a corner that cannot be found with an unprecedented frenzy in xer eyes. “You fight for your life, to survive, and I know how-why that happens. I know it,” they speak, with enough force to shatter a barometer. “Survival and curiosity are what motivates a human, but you two aren’t human, you reject it entirely, and you’re driven by more than this basic, primal duality, the intrinsic and extrinsic.” Can it yet be called an invasion of personal space when one has lost any sense of their body’s own position in space, and the other never had one to begin with? “You’re like me, and everybody questions me, and I too question everyone, but, I never- Sticks and stones degrade at the rotting hand of nuclear fusion. Haricot Heretic fights on.

...

Chess offenses, enacting gambit after glitchy gambit. “Damn you,” it mutters, then speaks more loudly into the stormy still. “What’s your goal in all this? Where are you trying to take this?” A cackle, harsh and untraceable, answers it at first. “Now, why would you assume I care for the results of my actions? That I aspire to achieve anything at all, beyond what you bear witness and contribute to as we speak?” Every word from The Fog’s mouths slithers through the air without discretion, almost as though it cares more about being heard than having its words said. The sharpness is turned down, resolution diminished, and threat put aside in a display of defensive tactics (though, how a cloud could ever be sharp enough to threaten in the first place remains bewilderingly unclear). “Look, you say you’ll never be satisfied, that it doesn’t matter if results are insubstantial- I don’t buy that. But you must know how we fight well enough to tell this won’t end well for you, so why devise all this in the first place?” CD asks again. It’s greeted by a face, ferocious and fanged, thrusting from the warring pixelation and obscurity besieging them. “I am transparent, you devil. You’re right, this is all futile, and for you to be correct at all shows my failure beautifully. I know not where this capacity for failure and determination in spite of such came from, because if I did, if my years spent interrogating the human race turn out to now have a tangible point, a lesson for me to learn, then-” Something or nothing or another scrapes hard against Chess’ horns, toppling it backwards into freefall. The ground, or whatever is passing for it, meets it immediately; jagged, hungry, & inviting. Something, many of it, planar and sharp enough to cut, is propelled or flung from the floor at it as it tries to pick itself up again. “You ask me questions I cannot, rather than will & would not answer, and I give you information I would & will not rather than can not.” Hir words seep through the condensation, slithering forward from behind its back just as easily as toothy mouths stretch as far as it can see in front of it. “You’re asking me questions none other have asked me- it should be inevitable. So why do I ask you, is it because you are different from any I have met before, or because I am different than-” The hard line between ones and zeroes forces separation and relief from the unclarity oppressing itself unto it. Checkmate is sought for ever longer. Checkered Devil fights on.

...

The fog is in no way noticed shifting, and yet Haricot & Chess find themselves in a clearing all the same. The two stand poised, not yet tired nor in peak form after all that has passed. Fog hangs in the air in front of them, not in form either. Sharp eyes, inhuman teeth, fill up space surrounding as they always have; a face, almost an outline, is arranged on Fog as it never has. It’s hesitant. Acting on impulse. Cowed and afraid. With all the cards in its hands. Ready to give up. Surely unstoppable. The target of infinite inquiries. Uncertain. “What do we have in common? Nothing of your motivation unites you with humanity- I am filled with questions, and that unites me with... them.” To Haricot and Chess, the sensation of eyes sliding their attention off them and onto another had never before been so very tangible. Nor had anything to do with Fog ever been tangible, though, only this far. “I know humanity when I see it- I don’t think these roles were meant to be reversed, okay?” they cut themself off, with their form almost seeming to be headed in a similar direction. Towards our villainous pair, a hand stretches forward. The wind picks up, drowning out sound & blurring vision, forcing the two to brace themselves; the only thing left clear in the maelstrom is a pair of eyes & a simple mouth- a face -and that hand, reaching, grasping, searching as far as it possibly can. “I am faced with the incomprehensible, filled to my limit with questions thanks to you two,” they yell, and scream, and whisper into the wind, “and it’s maddening. Every time i look at you two, it’s so, so, familiar it hurts

...

The sun rests comfortably in the sky. The moon, desaturated, finds a place above our villains’ heads as well. The Checkered Devil and Haricot Heretic stand, alone, on a simple grassy field. The air has cleared, only in a literal sense, and on the flat, clean, ground, rests a notebook, plain as can be.

...Does it get opened to the very first, or the very last page?

#writing #[that last sentence is indeed a prompt. an answer will be necessary]#hhvcd

16 notes · View notes

yandere-society · 5 years ago

Text

Roses | M

Sypnosis: You grew up dirt poor in the shadows of society, barely managing to survive without parents or family and very little money. Somehow through multiple part-times and endless overtimes, you land a job at the most profitable company in your country: the Jeon estate. Now you work for the young head of the estate, Asia’s most powerful man, Jeon Jungkook, as an assistant. One day, as you are preparing for the Grand Valentine ball which Jungkook has formally set up for his and his fiance’s anniversary, you realize two things; Jeon Jungkook and the rich like him will always live above people like you and two, Jungkook really loves his fiance. Or…is it really her he loves?

Pairing: Jungkook x Female Reader

Word Count: 5,350

Admin: @roses-ruby

Valentine’s Day Event Masterlist

Warnings: yandere themes, blood, death, murder, mentions of smut, mentions of sexual harassment, evil plans, letter openers; those knife looking kinds

You had always been jealous.

“I’ve been thinking about her a lot these days…”

The morning air wraps around your frame with frigid clarity. You had to breathe once, then twice to be able to concentrate on the intense eyes before you.

“Your fiancé, sir?”

With a sober gaze, you focus on the handsome yet stoic man sitting in front of you. His stare was vacant but captured your whole torso in a viper like grip.

“About what to get her.” He speaks in the same dull tone as before.

“…Maybe roses?”

Women like roses, right?

He tilts his head at you, as if he was signaling you about how thoroughly he was contemplating your answer. The action raised goosebumps along your upper arm until they met with the cold polyester sleeves of your dress shirt. There was such beauty even in his most simple movements, but truthfully there was nothing quite simple about the raven-haired man that eyed you with such an unreadable expression. Even though you reacted in such a way, you refused to let him see you fazed. To invite him to sink his teeth below the upper casing like he so desperately wanted.

Not yet.

With a sigh that yelled defeat, he leaned back in his chair. Mumbling to himself.

“Roses it is.”

And just like that, he dismissed you. Looking off into the distance on the left, where a large window displaying the huge metropolis laid bare. You wonder how it must feel – the raw power of staring out that window, knowing that every inch of the land could be yours within seconds. All he had to do was say the word. How would it ever be like to wake up every day wearing uncountable riches and diamonds and dynasties upon your thick skin? Either to mold or to destroy.

How does it feel to hold the fragile earth within your fist?

Perhaps you were curious because you’ve never had that luxury. Left behind to rot by that very earth itself, you’ve never had any luxuries. For you were just a simple, everyday peasant unlike the heir to the Jeon throne himself. The differences between you both were similar to that of the sun and moon. He sat on a throne you could only watch upon, forced to stand up on your impoverished legs for the rest of your life until they were to cave when you were to finally die.

Only the red are privileged to sit.

Your pace is nimble, but you manage to make it back to your desk outside his office. With a sigh, you plop down onto your rolly chair. The cushions mold into your stiffened back and your muscles relax against the plush. In the back of your mind, behind your closed eyes, you picture someone pressuring each side of your heart. Being the cause of the faint ache you felt inside your chest.

But you don’t get to rest for long, as a loud bang enters your office hallway. Startled, you sit up – and as soon as you do, the chalky screeching surrounds your ears.

“My God, some people are insufferable! I mean how hard is it to clean a dress? A monkey with a sponge could do it! Accident they say, those lazy rats. Really – and today of all days as well. This is sabotage! I will have them regret the day they tried to cross me-”

You watch with wide eyes as the lady in red hair clacks around in her maroon heels. She was seething with anger, cheeks rosy and steam coming out of her ears. But even through her fury she remained the epitome of beauty, her doll like features heightened by her puerile attitude. All you could do was gape at her as the pounding in your brain grew from her each word. With one final stomp, she stops, right in front of your desk. Her body was facing your boss’ door as she glared into the distance quietly before whirling her head at you. Eyes squinted with menace making you jump in your seat.

If looks could kill.

“What are you looking at, pig?” She snarls

Before you could answer her, the door opens. He comes out with his hands in his pocket, heartless as usual. But his eyebrows were furrowed, and you could sense the annoyance in his stance.

“What’s with all the commotion?”

“DARLING!” It was as if all her animosity had vanished in that instant. She leaped over at Jungkook, arms flailing and eyes sparkling. Your lips twitched subtly at her shrill scream.

Wrapping her long arms around him, she practically moans into his neck. Her red lip gloss smearing over his soft skin. He places his hands on her hips to hold her – and himself – steady. They look so perfect together – a sight to behold. Yet something threatens to crawl out your throat the more you watch them.

“Darling, it was awful! The Chang’s, darling – they ruined my expensive, custom made ruby iridescent Prada evening gown! They ruined it, darling!” She loudly wails into his shoulder.

Jungkook listens to her cry, before sighing. You couldn’t read him completely, it felt like he was looking at a young child throwing a tantrum. A precious child. “Why would you even use an industrial dry cleaner when you have professionals at home babe? What did they do to it?”

She backs away from him, looking into his eyes like a hurt puppy.

“T…They tore a piece from the bottom…from the wash they say… Miuccia designed it for me herself Kookie…y-you can’t let them get away with this.”

Jungkook stares into her glossy orbs for a bit, before he glances at you. His gaze makes you jerk, facing elsewhere in a heartbeat. It felt like you were interrupting them, your cheeks burn with shame. Your heart even more until you heard him huff.

“Alright, I’ll contact Min. He’ll be able to handle it.”

“Oh darling, I love you so much.” She screeches, hugging him once again.

Min. That was the family lawyer. A cut-throat man who managed to make powerful billionaires beg for their livelihood on Jungkook’s feet. One small-time laundro mat was a speck of dust compared to them. Your chest ache grew as you clenched your fists beneath the desk. The poor Chang’s had just managed to put their oldest into college, they had no savings left. They were barely handling 3 more kids and multiple elders to nurture, 9 people in total in one small apartment. Something like a lawsuit was bound to put them out on the streets. But now that they had crossed paths with Jeon’s beloved fiancé, how horrible their fate was bound to be.

There were thorns in your throat.

“Darling, I just wish tomorrow will be perfect.”

Her tone always contained a particular weight that captures your attention back to her. Jungkook was still looking at you, his stare heavy, holding down your shoulders. You felt the red explode inside your pupils as she wrapped herself around him before kissing him.

“Don’t worry, it will be. I promise.”

They start to make out, unabashed. But what shame would a rich person ever have? The cold morning air surrounds you again, as you steady your breaths, and try to get back to work. Manage to yet again contain your jealousy.

Sadly, you end up missing the intense eyes that were still on your figure, gripping tightly and never moving off once.

Valentine’s day. A time of small importance to you.

Is what you say as you eye the crimson curtains and scarlet carpet. The chandelier had a red tinge in its shards, lighting up the vast room in an almost bizarre way. A ballroom fit for the never early King and Queen. You stare at the monotone waitpersons cavorting about, carrying colored shots and expensive sweets in their trays. Your eyebrow perks up as your gaze lands on one of them being subtly touched by an older gentleman. His aged wrinkles in his drunk, lustful gaze versus her frightened young orbs and doe posture. It reminds you of your past. In all those cheap diners and broken eateries, being groped and disregarded all at the same time. In those days as well, Valentine’s day meant nothing to you.

Turning back to the long table before you, you pop another chocolate covered strawberry into your mouth. At that moment you hear soft laughter, making you look toward the left end of the table. There stood your coworker, Jimin, in his pink tux and blonde hair. He was talking to another coworker. You turn your eyes away once he catches your gaze.

And coincidentally, they end up meeting with the man you’ve been avoiding all night. On the other side of the table, stood Jungkook. Your breath gets caught in your throat. Jungkook in his infrared suit. A blend of garnet and carmine and sanguine. Gelled hair, bright skin, dark glare. Such marbled precision. He was staring at you then too, when Jimin came to flirt with you a while ago. As well as when Taehyung tried his luck.

And oh, if looks could kill.

Your little moment is interrupted when another man in red walks up to him, starting a conversation. His red wasn’t as strong as Jungkook’s, you noticed. Actually, you’re sure Jungkook probably held the strongest red in the world, just like her. They were born with it after all. You, on the other hand, worked your whole life through the mud pit to be able to bear pink upon your frame. A few of your coworkers wore pink too, some of their attires barely blushing, while the ones worth more wore fuscia. The waitpersons wore white and that forced you back in time the most… the time you could only wear white like it was a scar engraved into your skin.

Maybe you should make peace with the fact that a day like today wasn’t something for people like you to enjoy. That even if some people still view you as nothing but a body to fulfill their desires, you now have a face to go along with it unlike the servants around you. Maybe you should be thankful you are more blessed than the help. And the helpless. Even if you desired a lot more. It’s always been like that hasn’t it. A few speeches of wisdom draped upon the less fortunate public.

“Be grateful for what you have.”

Startled by the voice, your head whips back, where the lady in glimmering red stood. It was her, the one who had arrived with him, hand in hand, half an hour late. Yet she had instantly been the main attraction at the ball, people swarming towards her like hungry bees. Her gown was the color of a rose’s center – the strapless dress, lingering the ground like a mermaid’s legs, hugging her slender figure so delicately – it was the epitome of perfection. Your pink sun dress fell short in comparison. The impenetrable beauty was addicting, attracting even the shyest of insects into her clutches. For a second you got high on her scent alone, before the malicious tone of her words settled into your brain.

Why was she here? A minute ago, she was stuck to Jungkook’s side like she was glued together with his larger frame. Perhaps she gave him some space to breathe for once, but that still doesn’t explain why she came up to you out of all the bugs about. Seething in her perfect set of teeth, she glares a hole through you, making you unnerved. Even with ill intentions written in her eyes, she presented a beautiful, kind smile on her cherry lips.

“You’re probably happy knowing that you’re the only secretary Jungkook hasn’t fired within a week. You’re probably thrilled to have someone like Jungkook promote someone like you to the department head. You probably get off every time he calls your filthy name.” She breathes into your face; her breath was cold and pupils sharp. “You might think you have him wrapped around your finger and I’m not sure you know who you are, but since your poor education has failed you so greatly, I’m here to remind you.”

She steps closer into your space, as a way to intimidate you. “You’re a mutt he’s taking pity on and nothing more, you understand me? A pig shouldn’t get so happy being fed the scraps of a stallion. You mean nothing to him and as soon as he’s fucked you senseless, he’ll forget about you like every other girl that has tried to take my place.”

Her smile never faltered. If anyone was watching this interaction, they’d think she was having a pleasant discussion with you. That the reason you were shying away from her was because you could not handle her radiant glow and pouring compassion. And in the same second the gears in your mind started turning, searching for a possible response, she took a step back.

“Don’t try to get too close to him. Don’t smile so much when he looks your way. Don’t let your pathetic feelings cross the line. Stay in your lane and be grateful for what you have. Because trust me, I can make everything disappear.” With a nod, she brushes past you.

Gone, just like that.

The spot that once held her being is forgotten, your head turning to watch her leave. A few butterflies fly up to her, each one wearing a thousand more on their figures and necks, but nothing that could be compared to her red.

It felt as if she never threatened you. As if she wasn’t the villain you just witnessed but a sweet cerise princess. You watch the girls gush about her life; about how luxurious her dress, her hair, her nails, her jewels, and the Grande Valentine ball was. About how blessed she is to have loving wealthy fiancé like Jungkook. She laughs agreeing with them while exhaling the same breath she took pretending to be humble.

Soon you were blending into the background. As usual.

Finally able to pry your eyes away, you stare at the ground, feeling the ache in your chest slowly cover your vision. It felt like the green, bitter thorns from a Rose’s stem, pressing against your heart with brutal force. You already felt like an outsider as soon as you stepped in here, but this was the final straw. The thorns grew amongst your chest, you spent hours finalizing every single thing about tonight on Jungkook’s command. All for his precious fiancé, choosing the colors out of your personal reach and decorations and the drinks and the food. And yet you feel like you just showed up uninvited to a stranger’s house. Knowing nothing here was meant for you.

Parting your lips, you begin walking towards the exit, ready to crawl back into your mouse cave where the lights weren’t so exposing.

You trudged along the exit hall, feeling the cheap heels of your shoes leaves sores against your soles. The ball was only an hour in, and you were fleeing way before midnight. It shouldn’t matter however; it was best to remember that Valentine’s day and its activities hold no meaning to you. Foggy thoughts run throughout your head as you watch the gleaming floor.

When you were almost at the door, a shadow overcasting the tiles and resembling a person makes you halt. Your head tilts up to catch the man in the elegantly fitted red suit, staring back at you with those familiar eyes.

“Leaving already?”

You aren’t sure how you ended up here.

All you remember was him telling you to follow along and you obeying his command silently. He led you out of the banquet hall, into his rumbling sports car and then straight inside his mansion. Jungkook never uttered a word, but his essence – his aura…it spoke for him. You walked behind him placidly, like the prey of a snake slowing moving inside the predator’s seams. When he walks into a room, the walls light up immediately at his presence. They glow of a lavish chamber leaves you jolting in place as he carelessly strides to his open bar.

How was this any different from where you just came from? If they wanted, they could have just held the ball here.

You watch as he grabs a bottle from the shelf, turning around and placing it on the counter as he picks up a glass.

“Would you like a drink?”

You immediately shake your head in decline. He shrugs, pouring himself a good amount of dark liquor. As you stand still, watching him take a sip, confusion finally settles in from the whole ordeal. Why would he bring you here? Your ignorance made you feel like scum on the back of his expensive shoes.

She probably always felt at home here.

Jealousy was a suffocating feeling and to deal with the pressure, you look away. Try to think about something else other than his ethereal face. On a small, decorative table to the left of you was a stubby golden vase, filled to the brim with roses. The vibrant flowers capture your orbs closely, like you were being lulled in by their appearance alone. You take small steps up to the table, your heart beating in your ears. When you were close enough you could see the thorns decorating the stems.

The thorns that hindered the beauty of the red.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you pick up a knife – possibly a letter opener from underneath the vase. You carefully take a stem into your hand, pinching it beneath your fingers. With a quick breath, you slice away a thorn, then two. Ridding the plants of its spikes and ugliness in animosity. Making it perfect with each removal.

Your haste movements froze when a hand grabbed yours. You look up to see Jungkook, holding onto you while staring at you with an unreadable expression.

“What are you doing? I thought you liked roses?”

That’s what you wanted to ask him, what was he doing? Why did he bring you here? But it’s not like the rich were born to be questioned. As you hold his gaze with anger, but bite your tongue from speaking, he sighs. Taking the knife out of your hands and placing it back on the table. He replaces the object with his fingers and your whole body heats up from the rush of your hands.

His scent was heavenly. Like a thousand roses laid amongst a field.

“You…at the ball…you seemed off.” He says, capturing your attention with the same incomprehensible face he always has on. “There were so many bugs flying around you there…I needed to take my chance.”

“…What?”

You watch closely as Jungkook tongues his cheek.

“You’re always so…closed off. Like there��s nothing on your mind…like you couldn’t care less about anything. I always…notice.” He huffs, looking at the floor in concentration. “I remember, it was your third day. I was passing by on my way for an early brunch with a buddy. And I saw the support manager fall onto a wet floor. The way she screamed…I and everyone around us rushed to her. Through the commotion and her cries and everyone making sure she was okay…I spotted you sitting at a desk 10 feet away. I saw you…and you didn’t do anything, even though she was in obvious pain… you just gave her a glance and then went back to work. She ended up breaking her arm and suing the company, so I got rid of her but none of that mattered.”

He looks back up at you. “What mattered was you…you caught my eye. Your lack of interest in everyone, your empty eyes. I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

It goes quiet for a moment and you now know how haunting the silence is in a big space like this. That and Jungkook’s presence made the atmosphere surreal.

“Would it have made a difference?” You question. His eyebrows raise at your response. “I mean…if I had cared…would her pain have disappeared?”

Jungkook gazes deeply into your eyes, like he was trying to read you. The hand that held you shifted slightly and you tried to not let the movements affect you. It was then that he broke out into a smirk, he seemed intrigued.

“I guess not.”

“No, it wouldn’t have. The one place there is no worth – no red – is in compassion.”

He chuckles. “I suppose with my status and what my family’s taught me…I’m inclined to disagree. But I can’t help…like this…like you.”

It was your turn to raise your eyebrows as he looks away, turning crimson. “I can’t explain why…so don’t ask me. I’ve been involved with plenty of other women…but it was always carnal pleasure. My fiancé always made sure they didn’t last long anyway but it doesn’t matter…they bore me. Yet…I don’t know what it is about you that calls to me. To keep you close to me.” He turns back to you with a determined face. “I want you and I want to get rid of anything in my way that keeps me from you.”

It felt like time stopped. The lull reverberated off the walls with intensity. There was a strange new sensation in your chest the more you stared at his sharp features. He was born with the beauty of red. When you finally felt like you could breathe again, you took your hand out of his. For a split second, you felt his whole physique embody a pout before you lightly placed your finger on his shoulder.

He froze under your touch. You continued to lightly rub at the fabric of his red coat, before placing your other hand on his other shoulder. Jungkook couldn’t look away. Especially not when you moved closer to him, not when he could feel your soft breath hit his face.

“Is this…close enough?” You whisper, watching the way his bright eyes turned dark. Within moments you felt a sudden source of heat around your waist, before you were pushed into his sturdy chest. His heartbeat matched your rhythm and your lips hovered one another as your orbs fought for balance. There was a cocoon of warmth around you, traveling up your spine as his thumb brushed your waist.

“It’s perfect.” He says before you feel his naturally red lips touch your coral ones.

It had been a while since your last kiss. That would explain why your tongue felt so sensitive and weak against his. Your hands hold onto his shoulders to keep yourself steady and at that moment, you recall how this very scene happened before you just yesterday, with his hand on her hips. You recall the jealousy. Bitter thoughts don’t ever completely vanish, do they?

As he bites your bottom lip, you fail to conceal a moan. He smiles into your kiss, before breaking away. Your lips were raw, and although you couldn’t see yourself, you knew they were swollen red. So you begin to smile as well.

“You’re so beautiful.” He says before kissing your cheek, down your jaw and into your neck. “All mine.”

You hold onto the back of his head as he nips at your neck. Gazing at the roses behind him.

“And you, mine.”

You woke up to the dark.

It didn’t take you long to figure out you weren’t in your house. The smell…the atmosphere…the scenery…it was all different. Not the familiar color you were used to. Your ear catches the sound of soft snoring, so you turn to see Jungkook sleeping peacefully by your side. His dark bangs covered most of his eyes and you slowly raised your fingers to move his hair out of his face. He seemed so different when he was asleep compared to his cold office demeanor. So calm and innocent – almost like a child.

In that second, your throat feels dry, so you try to sit up. Maybe you’ll have that drink he spoke of now. But a heavy arm thrown across your body stops you. You peek underneath the blanket to find Jungkook’s biceps holding onto you tightly. He was definitely the possessive type. With a quick inhale, you subtly try to remove his big arm off of you. Freezing whenever he faintly stirred. When you’ve managed to become free, you get out of bed, wincing as soon as you get up.

Even without the light, you could tell how damaged you were as you limp towards the door. He didn’t hold back in bed, wanting you to show him every expression of pleasure – of pain you were capable of. Him and only him, he said. There were bite marks on your neck and ass…he loved using his mouth. And then there was his endless fucking stamina. But truthfully you didn’t mind it one bit, it felt like he was pouring his deep rich wine upon you. You felt yourself inflaming up from the inside out, it was a feeling like no other – addicting.

Actually, you’ve always known about his interest in you. He had managed to make his face unreadable because of the position and line of work he’s in. But he’s still always slipped around you. You saw the subtle yearning and longing way before you came up with this plan. A plan that was necessary, you had never been this lucky before after all. And you wonder if she saw it too. If she knew you weren’t like Jungkook’s others. Perhaps that’s why she came up to you tonight. To try and stop you.

But mere warnings don’t work on the desperate.

As soon as you’re in the other room, the living room lights flash on. Prompting you to squint, while trying to adjust to the brightness. Once again, your attention is immediately captured by the vivid red roses in the golden vase on the small table across the room. You begin walking towards the vase mindlessly but once you were a couple feet in, you notice another shade of red to your left.

A glittering red.

You turn to face her, the princess of the kingdom, in her soon to be king’s castle. Naked and sullied in retrospect to her lavishly covered frame. But strangely, compared to you in this moment she was weak.

It was her face. Her face as she glares at you, eyes squinted, and lips pulled back. Mascara and tears ran down all over her cheeks and her eyes were puffy swollen. She stood there, shaking in her heels as her hands clenched into fists. How could she look so pathetic dressed in red of all things? There was something funny about the sight…it almost made you burst into laughter. Instead you pursed you lips and raised a brow.

Right then she launched herself at you.

“You BITCH!” She screamed at the top of her lungs before you felt her sharp nails collide with your cheek. Your ears rung as you try to regain your balance. You didn’t have time to react as she pulled your face up using your hair and smacked you twice before pushing you down. Already frail torso crashing upon the tiles a bit too easily.

Really, you felt like laughing as you laid there while she screamed and pounded her weak fists onto you. You couldn’t feel the pain, nothing at all, not even when she banged your head against the tile. Not when she kicked you in the gut. So you laughed, and you felt her go quiet for a second. Small giggles turning into something insane. Your laugh got louder and louder as your cheek connected with the cold floor. The ringing surrounded your ears, but you still heard her curse underneath her breath, calling you crazy. You’ve always hated her voice.

“DIIIIEEEEE! DIE YOU CRAZY BITCH! HE’S MINE!” You could hear her tight dress starting to rip with every sudden jerk and twist. It was ironic. Your head felt light and your vision started to blur as she pulled at your stands frantically. Suddenly, you were being pulled up onto your legs with the world spinning around you and thrown right into the small table you couldn’t stop being called towards.

On impact, one of the legs gave out, causing you and the vase to slip onto the ground. You were completely out of it for a few seconds. After a blurry moment, you could finally feel the wet water and the broken wood and the shattered glass and the cold metal scraping against your skin as you struggled to get up. That…and the green thorns stuck inside your chest, bleeding raw.

Once you were up, you struggle to maintain your steadiness. As your slippery feet came to a halt, you stare down at your wounded chest. At the thorns in your heart, before you hear her shrill voice coming towards you again. So, you timed it in your head. Waited for the bottom ruffles of her beautiful dress to slide along the tiles and signal you. Let her red give her away.

And once she was close enough, you spun around. Extended your hand until you could tell the blade collided through something hard yet pudgy. Everything comes to a standstill. You hear her inhale loudly before her face actually appears before you. Eyes wide and mouth parted. Her hands were still in midair, they were coming for your neck. Her shaky pupils gape at you, before looking down below where the knife met her.

When she’s distracted, you take out the letter opener from her stomach before slamming it back into her once again, a little left. It made a soft, stubby sound and she gasped faintly. Your hands shook dimly with the blade still inside her, blood staining your fingers. The ringing had vanished now, and you were facing the silence of the mansion. Now that you had gotten the gist of it, as quick as you could, you stabbed her a third time. It was your final attack because as soon as you took the edge out, she fell backwards with a loud thud. You didn’t have time to process everything, just cringed at the way her head collided with the floor.

For a while, you just stood there. Weapon in hand, watching the way the blood slowly oozed out of her sides. Her eyes were wide open in shock, lips parted, and jaw unhinged. Bringing the blade up to your face, you closely examine the loose blood along the edges as the knife gleamed underneath the lights. Red was truly a magnificent color. If you were to split her open, would she bleed it all out before you? Let you have all her secrets and riches? You take the blade and carefully wipe both sides of the blood onto your chest, over your heart. Making a perfect x and letting yourself become red.

Like you’ve always wanted.

Once you were done with that, you look back at her. At her lifeless face and sunken eyes.

“What are you looking at, pig?”

Just then a hand grabs yours from behind. You dropped the letter opener in surprise, and it crashes onto the floor with everything else. The object is replaced by long fingers. Your head whips back to meet a bare Jungkook standing right behind you, as handsome as ever, staring at you with a smile. There was a little insanity in his eyes, the same one you saw every morning in the mirror.

“I was wondering how to get rid of her myself.” He says, before wrapping his arms around your shivering torso and placing his mouth on your neck.

It had only been a few hours after Valentine’s day, and here you stood. Being gently rocked by your boss, with his beautiful fiancé bleeding out on the floor in front of him. Even in death…she was the epitome of beauty. And you had always been jealous.

Not of who she was to Jungkook.

But because of the vibrant, glowing, bleeding red rose she always resembled.

What you were jealous of was the rose she embodied.

The rose you wanted to be.

#yandere society #bts #jungkook #yandere bts #yandere jungkook #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader

1K notes · View notes

aflyingcontradiction · 3 years ago

Text

The Magnus Archives Relisten: Episode 88 - Dig

Basira: Yeah, well, your boss is busy and I tried talking to Tim, but… (...) And he said Sasha’s gone, so I thought I’d talk to you.

Oh god, I can just imagine that conversation. Tim depressed, still grieving but not really knowing for whom, barely able to force out the words 'Sasha's gone' and Basira just taking it as 'she's been fired or something' and going 'Ah, okay, I'll talk to Martin then." all business-like. Ouch.

Basira: I actually thought I misjudged him. Hell, I liked the guy. Martin: Wait, you mean… like you… Basira: Oh, what? Urgh, no! Why does everyone think that? Martin: Right, yeah, ‘cause I don’t actually… I don’t actually think he…

Martin, dear, you're not being subtle.

Basira: I just, I mean he was good company. Y’know, when he wasn’t being a paranoia machine. He was funny, you know? Martin: What, Jon? (...) I don't think I've ever heard him tell a joke. Basira: Maybe you weren’t listening.

I mean, Basira is right, Jon can be fucking hilarious, but I suppose from Martin's perspective that wouldn't really shine through because 99 % of Jon's humour consists of undiluted snark and a SIGNIFICANT amount of that snark is aimed at Martin specifically! And given how relatable Martin is to me in many ways I'm just going to blithely assume that he, like me, finds it difficult to appreciate someone's snark when he's the person being snarked at.

Basira: No, no. Did she use the phrase “operational discretion”? Martin: Yeah. She said she had “full operational discretion”. Is everything alright? Basira: I need to find him. (...) Martin: Fine. Now please, we’re really busy.

How does Martin not realise how serious this is? Just the way Basira turns on a dime from relatively-unhurriedly attempting to find Daisy to "Oh shit, I need to find JON. Now." on its own should tip him off. But, like, I'm not even caught up in a mess of murder and supernatural horrors and if I got threatened by some black ops-ish cop with zero accountability who told me they have 'full operational discretion' I'd be wondering if someone was about to get tortured or killed, so... what gives, Martin?

Not a bad little find, I remember thinking, as I started to clean the sand from around it. ... And uncovered the wrist it was still attached to. - Statement of Enrique MacMillan

Oh, the timing of that little "And..." makes this scene look practically cinematic in my head!

I’ve dreamed of it, of course. Safe and happy below, wrapped on all sides by uncounted miles of crushing, loving, earth and stone. I see it, and watch the passing of history build upon it, layer after layer. To travel down into the ground is to travel through time, that’s what I always used to say, before I found my book. And I still believe it, but time is the least of the things that waits for us down there, things I can barely think of without collapsing in fear. A thousand terrible things, trapped and alone, out of air and out of light, all contained within those three hideous letters: DIG.

Welcome to Avatardom, Enrique. (Seriously, this combination of fear and awe is so common in the avatars).

There’s something here, you see. Something to be dug up, rooted out, buried within. A hollow space that all eyes point towards.

Wait, is Enrique talking about the panopticon?

My impression of this episode

So I've seen this episode in a list of "Things that are actually hilarious about TMA", specifically the "DIG!" thing, but actually I found that kind of unsettling. Not even the concept of the statement giver succumbing to the Buried. Just the increasingly aggressive way Martin reads the word "DIG!" tbh. It reminds me of those nightmares I sometimes get where a loved one screams something at me really aggressively and I wake up and it's super-scary despite the fact that I have no idea what they were even yelling. And then there's that introduction, that conversation of Basira and Martin, that "OH SHIT!" moment when it gets rubbed in once again just how much danger Jon is in... And then, of course, the ending, Melanie trying to look for Jude Perry and the confirmation that yeah, what Jon heard was very likely THE calliope 'cause it sure ain't in artefact storage anymore. There's rather a lot going on in this episode, actually!

#tma relisten #the magnus archives

3 notes · View notes

justanotherlifeff · 4 years ago

Text

Levi Ackerman × reader

Genre: Angst, Hurt/comfort, Fluff, matured themes, slowburn

Warning: There's mentions and descriptions of underage rape and suicidal themes and self harm.

(Y/N) POV

I sat on the floor looking at the huge bloodied figure lying on the ground right in front of me. It was screaming a while ago before I stabbed it uncountable times on it's throat. Now it's quiet and peaceful. I heard about titans from my parents. They told me stories about those big humanoid creatures with sick smiles. I looked at the figure and thought, is that what titans look like?

The door to the house opened and my parents walked in. I ran to my dad, hugged him, smiled at him and said "I killed a titan!". There were stains of blood on his pants which clearly came from my naked body. I forgot I didn't have clothes on as the 'titan' tore them off. The look of horror in their eyes made my enthusiasm go away. They looked at me as if they were terrified. Was Jacob telling the truth? Will they put me back to that nightmarish place again? I felt betrayed. Weren't they supposed to protect me?

"(Y/N)? Wake up (Y/N)." I woke up to Hanji's voice. I don't recall much from last night except for the part where I dragged myself to eat the stew heichou made. My only memory before that was the talk with heichou since I passed out on my bed out of exhaustion after that. When I got up, I noticed heichou standing at the door of my room looking at me. A blush was threatening to creep on my face as I remembered the kiss from yesterday.

Levi heichou and I had something between us now and I was feeling as nervous as a teenager for the first time in my life. I didn't know why I kissed him last night but I just couldn't control myself. Heichou was such a beautiful specimen... The sun was up and bright and I realised that I overslept.

"Sorry I overslept. Didn't I lock the door last night?" I asked Hanji while getting down from bed. "Yes you are late but you needed to sleep. After all, you had a rough day yesterday. And, no you didn't lock your door. You really shouldn't forget things like that you know." Hanji told me sympathetically. I had to agree with her in both cases but the irony was too much to bear as Hanji often forgot to sleep or eat thanks to her obsession with titan research.

"We are going to Trost. Erwin lost an arm and is in a coma. I supposed you would like to see him." Levi heichou spoke to me. I, still trying to control the blush, answered, "Yes heichou. I will be ready in five minutes''. "Well, I will let you get dressed" Hanji said as she left the room. Levi Heichou was still standing at the door. After an awkward silence, he spoke to me, "You okay? Erwin is being treated by the best military doctors. He will be fine." I could see the worry in his eyes. He was worried about me?

"Thanks for letting me know." I murmured. The news he gave me made me a bit relaxed. After hearing Erwin was in a coma, I feared for his life because he was the only family I had left. Before I knew it, the captain was in front of me and he caressed my cheek.

"It's gonna be alright. Now get dressed and pack up some clothes. We will be staying there for a while. Mikasa can protect Eren and Historia. You can be with Erwin meanwhile and I have to take care of his work. That piece of shit chose a good fucking time to slack off." he said the last bit with a sarcastic tone before continuing, "By the way, you're getting on the same carriage as I am. Don't let Hanji steal you." and with that, he got out of the room.

I couldn't help but blush the whole time. Heichou was capable of showing emotions like that? I had to admit that I wasn't acting like my usual self as well. It felt as if all the teenage hormones I held back for so long were erupting now. I figured that I would have to wear something fancy since heichou was wearing a suit.

Unfortunately I did not own anything like that so I stuck with my survey corps uniform and packed up the very few clothes I owned. As I went out, I found two carriages waiting for us. Hanji literally jumped at me excitedly and said "There you are! No wonder you're second in command. I have never been so punctual in my whole career. I can see why Shorty here admires you!".

I tried to get her off me as she dragged me to a carriage and before she pulled me in, a monotone voice stated, "Shouldn't you go with Moblit here? He's you're second in command and you're making my second in command stinky, shitty glasses''.

Hanji looked at Levi Heichou who was standing in front of the other carriage and said, "Come on shorty! I bathed just two days back! My underarms don't even smell!" and she approached him to make him smell her underarms to which he crinkled his nose and said "Fuck off shitty glasses. (Y/N), get in the carriage." and with that, he got inside the carriage he was standing in front of.

I followed him as Hanji complained, "Jeez, that shorty needs to calm down" before going back to Moblit. As I got up and sat beside heichou, he commented, "You won several sparring sessions with me and couldn't shake Hanji off?". "Hanji was shoving my nose in her underarms. Unlike what she said, it did smell bad, which was quite distracting" I answered and for the first time, I heard heichou chuckle. I looked at him with wide eyes as he looked at me and stated, "I was planning to kiss you but you will have to wash your face now" with a grin. He looked amused and I didn't know if I wanted to punch him in the face for laughing at my misery or if I should just enjoy the rare moment of him grinning. At the end, I decided to let it slide. I could always punch him later during training. After a short awkward silence, he spoke, "So, I wanted to talk to you about yesterday".

Levi POV

I wasn't sure about that kiss yet. She was tired when it happened. Did she even mean it? After all, she didn't seem to say anything when I touched her cheek or made that remark about kissing her. I still had to be sure. She avoided my gaze when I mentioned that I wanted to talk about yesterday. "Do you regret it?" she asked quietly. Her face looked emotionless but her eyes gave away the fact that she was scared. "I don't regret anything. I want this, (Y/N). I just want to know if we are on the same page." I explained to her.

She looked at me, smiled and replied, "Yes we are.". However, her face became serious once again as she muttered, "Although, I have some questions.". " Well then, ask" I encouraged her, looking at her eyes, giving her all my attention. "What the fuck is she going to ask?" I wondered. "You mentioned that we have enemies inside the walls. Who are they? Why are they our enemies?" she asked.

"You see, Nick spilled about Historia and Hanji thinks that the church is not going to take this easily. Nick unknowingly mentioned that other people know about Historia too when he said that he can't speak because of the other followers. If the other followers were to know that he talked, the Survey Corps may be targeted, especially Eren and Historia. Hanji thinks the information Nick gave up had something to do with titans and that makes Eren a target. Historia's noble family definitely didn't want Historia to keep that name.

Her mother was assassinated and this means the enemy is strong. As for you, we both know that I'm the so-called humanity's strongest. The first thing any attacker would try to find is my weakness to bring me down. We both know that you're the only weakness I've got. The fact that you're my subordinate and we both are popular as you made a new name for yourself as humanity's strongest woman and the fact that you're so much younger than I am, all of it means that the gossip about us will spread like wildfire if anyone is to know.

If the enemy gets to know about us, you will be in danger. I know you are capable of taking care of yourself but as your squad leader, and something more than just that now, I have a duty towards protecting you. I just don't want you to be hurt" I explained to her. I was bad at showing emotions but I think she understood that seeing her hurt would make me feel like a failure.

I remembered the gut clenching experience from that day when I was waiting desperately for her to return safely. I remembered how terrified I felt when I heard she was not well and the colossal titan and the armoured titan showed up near her. I wanted to protect this woman at any cost.

"I see. Honestly, I thought you didn't want anyone to know because of the rumours it would create and I thought you didn't want the negative impression they would have on you" she told me with a straight face. "I see, the usual (Y/N) is back." I thought as I looked at her. I was kinda shocked to see her blush so much. I wasn't complaining though since she looked adorable when she blushed. "You really think I give a fuck about what people think?" I asked her, raising my eyebrows.

She chuckled a bit at that. After some more silence, I said, "Hey (Y/N), when I entered your room this morning, you were sleep talking.". She blushed again, to my delight and asked, " Was I? What did I say?". She really did look lovely when she blushed. "You were saying 'I killed a titan dad' with a big smile on your face. Care to explain?" I asked her with a smirk. I could tell that the story behind this would be interesting. To that, she suddenly grimaced.

"I said that to my father when he returned home with my mother after I killed that Garrison soldier." she answered with her face void of any emotion. Immediately, I felt guilty about the fact that I had accidentally brought on some definitely unpleasant memories into the conversation. I knew this was a sensitive topic but I also knew that trying to lighten the mood wouldn't work. As much as I personally wasn't good at it, it just wouldn't work because I understood the depth of her situation.

I saw young children getting molested in the underground. I remember how they cried. I killed a few molesters myself but saving everyone at the end, just wasn't possible. I decided to ask her if she wanted to talk about it so that she might find some solace out of sharing her painful past. As I asked her this, she scanned my face as if she was trying to figure something out. At the end she said, "I'll talk if you share your memories with me too".

I hesitated for a second and upon seeing that, she asked, "Do you trust me?". I thought about it and didn't find any reason not to trust her. " Yes, do you?" I answered and asked. "Yes," she answered. Upon listening to her memories of this certain Jacob, my heart ached. My hands clenched into a fist unconsciously and I felt anger fuming inside me. "No one will touch her again as long as I'm alive. No one except myself", I thought. I had to protect her from this world. I was proud of how capable she was but I still wouldn't let her in harm's way. I just couldn't. She deserved so much better.

"I would've gutted that bastard if he was alive. I would've pulled every single nail from his hands and legs and cut his dick off. You were kind to him and he didn't deserve it." I commented when she finished. "Well, you're the only one who thinks that." she answered with a weak smile. "You know, if you give your official statement at the court, your criminal record could be erased. I can talk to Erwin about it if you're uncomfortable. This would help you if you ever retire." I offered to her, hoping she would agree to it. Instead, she asked, "Would you retire?".

I was taken aback by that question. "I don't think so. I devoted my life to humanity. I never really thought about retirement." I answered looking away from her. I didn't like where this was going. "Why do you think I will retire then? I devoted my life to humanity as well." she answered. "Wouldn't you want a stable life? A family?" I asked her. I was scared of the answer. Every woman wanted that didn't they? I couldn't give her a stable life. I knew that much. Why would she ever think about having a family with someone who might end up dead anytime?

"I don't want to be some man's trophy wife. I want to have my free will. I want to fight for humanity. If I am ever to have a family, I would have it while fighting for humanity. I'm sure my children would be proud to say their mother died a hero." she answered with a smile. I felt guilt and relief at the same time. Guilt because she would have to live a soldier's life because of me and relief because she will remain mine for longer than I had anticipated. Heck, she might be mine till one of us dies. I couldn't ask for more.

"Their mother will die only if I end up dying. Before that, it's not happening" I told her with a smirk and she blushed at the sentence. She totally got what I meant. "Why don't you talk to me about your past now?" she said. I started talking to her about Farlan and Isabel. We chatted for hours about our pasts. I said to her that the last time I cried was when Farlan and Isabel died. She told me about what happened at the court during her trial. How Mr and Mrs Hertz defended her. How all the proof was in her favour as the man was found half naked while she was found completely nude.

The lawyer on the culprit's defence however was cunning and said that as she had sexual experience before, she used it to murder the man. She did it out of her murderous nature that she apparently acquired from the underground. He blamed her for not talking because everything the proof says were false when in reality, she just didn't want to admit killing the man because she was scared that she would be left in the underground city again. I made a mental note to beat the lawyer up.

I told her about my mother. How she seemed to love me. How she sold her body to provide for me. How at the end, she ended up dying, leaving me alone. How I spent a couple of days stuck in a room with her corpse. How a man named Kenny saved me. She listened and held my hand in the progress. I didn't shrug it off because it made me feel better for a change.

She talked to me about how she first met Erwin after her trial. How she was scared of him at first but he gained her trust by letting her read books from his personal library in his quarters in the Survey Corps headquarters back in wall Maria. How he trained her to fight and gave her the courage to face anything thrown at her way. How he never judged her. This made me remember my own experience with Erwin. He never judged me, a thug from the underground city either. I respected him for this attitude. I wondered if he would be happy with me and (Y/N) being together as he was the closest thing to a father figure (Y/N) had.

We were so much into our conversation that we didn't notice that we had reached Trost. The coachman opened the door of the carriage and we both got down. We were in front of a military police lodging. We were supposed to be staying here till Erwin regained his consciousness. As we got down, Nile approached us with somewhat of a worried face.

"I didn't think you would bring extra people. We were only expecting Hanji and you, Levi" he told me. "Well, Hanji doesn't remember to sleep or eat without Moblit's help and Erwin is close to (Y/N). Both needed to be here." I replied to him. "I understand but there is a shortage of rooms as the Garrison is holding a charity event in Trost and the people from wall Sina are here. We were only able to arrange two rooms." he said.

"Huhhh? Well, that means I can stay with (Y/N)! I can't wait to tell her all I know about titans! " Hanji squealed and (Y/N) looked at me with annoyance clear in her eyes and said, "I'm not staying with her" making Hanji stop squealing. "Hanji and Moblit can take these rooms. We will find lodging in any hotel" I assured Nile. "Well, good luck finding a room. Most upper class hotels with enough security are booked for a week." he mentioned.

"We'll see that. Could we borrow two horses? Both of us have leg injuries" I stated to Nile and he said, "Of Course. Someone would return with the horses shortly. I must go now. Good day." as he went out of the facility. After waiting for about 15 minutes, a stable boy came to us with two horses and we went off to search for a hotel.

(Y/N) POV

I followed Heichou's horse to one of the big hotels in the Trost district. They mentioned that no rooms are available at any luxury hotel now except one where a few suites may be available. "That would make some effect on my paycheck," heichou muttered to himself after getting out of that hotel and while getting on his horse. "We could just go rent a room at an inn.." I suggested but heichou dismissed the idea saying, "We need to be somewhere more secure than that. I mentioned why before didn't I?". I didn't reply to it. Heichou seemed to know the hotel we were going to.

"You seem to know the location," I mentioned to him. He didn't look at me and replied, "Yes, I stayed there a few times. Not for weeks though. They keep overnight guests discrete.". I felt a pang of jealousy at that but I knew that heichou was popular among women and it happened before we got together, so I didn't exactly have the right to be jealous about it. After reaching the place, Heichou talked to the man in the lobby about rooms.

Apparently, only one suite was still available. While heichou was paying for the suite, I took a look at the price while heichou was paying. He seemed to notice the shock in my eyes and asked, " What are you looking at?". "How can you afford that?" I asked him in shock. "I'm one of the highest paid soldiers because of my position in the survey corps and my reputation. I can easily afford it. Seems like your paycheck will increase next month too. You're second in command now after all" he stated in a matter of fact tone.

After he was done with the paperworks with the man in the lobby, I followed him and a waiter into the suite. It had a big living room with an attached kitchen and an enormous bedroom with an attached bathroom.

"You can take the bed. I'll sleep on the sofa" heichou said as he got into the walk in closet with the bedroom. I looked at the sofa in the living room and it clearly wasn't nearly as comfortable as the big soft bed. I didn't go against his decision however, because I didn't feel comfortable about sharing a bed with him just yet. I saw him take a towel that was given by the hotel and examine it. When he was convinced that it was clean enough, he went into the bathroom and said, "I sent a messenger to the military police lodging about where we are staying. They will bring our luggages here. When they do, I need you to put out a shirt and a pant for me".

"Okay" I answered. As he went to the shower, I went to the kitchen. They had vegetables stocked in the cabinets and meat in the ice box. I knew we would have to pay for it later and meat was expensive now so I just proceeded to cook some vegetable stew. A military police recruit came with our trunks and I took them from him and thanked him for the help. He seemed kinda intimidated by me even if I was just thanking him but that probably was because of my new reputation.

Apparently I have been on today's newspaper as the strongest woman of humanity. Honestly, I couldn't care less about such foolish titles. I opened Heichou's trunk and took a white shirt and one of his black pants. Seemed like all the pants he owned were black except for his survey corps uniform pants. I laid them out neatly on the bed and went back to see how much my stew was cooked. Just as I was done, I saw heichou get out of the bathroom with nothing but a towel on.

Suddenly, dirty thoughts that never crossed my mind before were all flooding into my head. Heichou's body was nothing like those men from the underground or Jacob. It actually made me slightly interested in giving a shot at sex. I brushed those thoughts aside when heichou disappeared in the walk-in closet with his clothes.

I took a pot from the cabinet and poured out the stew. Heichou walked in the living room as I had set the pot on the dining table. "We could've just ordered someone to bring us food. You didn't have to work so hard." he said to me. "Wouldn't that be more expensive?" I asked him. He smiled at me and replied, "Like I said before, I'm one of the highest paid soldiers. You don't have to worry about money. The stew smells good though. Thank God I claimed you before some aristocrat bastard made you their housewife". Levi Heichou was teasing me? "Wouldn't you kill them and get me back?" I smirked back.

"Ah, that I would. Get cleaned now. You look like shit" he said with a smile. I went to the washroom, took a quick shower and wore a long brown skirt and an olive green peasant blouse. The outfit didn't suit the atmosphere of the room. "I really need to buy good clothes'' I thought. As I came out of the closet, heichou looked at me for a while and said, "change into your uniform pants. After seeing Erwin, you're going out with me and Hanji to buy some good clothes. I'll pay for it because your salary as a recruit won't get you anything good. You probably can buy your own stuff from next month".

I tried to protest but he got up from his chair and shutted me up with a kiss. As I was gaping at him for his sudden actions, he stated, "Don't question me. Get dressed properly now. I'll arrange two horses." and got out of the suite. I did as he said because I couldn't exactly complain in this situation. I didn't have much money with me as the salary for recruits, even in the special operations squad, was really low.

I ate the rest of the leftover stew and got out of the suite. Levi heichou finished off more than half of the stew and by that, I assumed that he liked it. I suppose the higher quality ingredients were the reason behind it.

I found heichou waiting for me outside with two horses. I was anxious about what position I would see uncle Erwin in and it seemed like heichou understood it. "Everything's gonna be fine," he said, trying to comfort me. I looked at him and found that his gaze was soft. As we went out to the road, I kept looking at that man. He was capable of being so strong yet so emotionally conflicted.

I understood his attempts to make me feel better. I was bad at it too but what mattered was that he tried. That I was willing to try as well. What mattered was that he was the most beautiful person I had ever encountered.

To be continued...

Taglist: @kingtamakimurder @realityisoftendisapointing

#levi aot #levi ackerman #levi heichou #levi x fem!reader #levi×reader #shingeki no kyoujin levi #levi attack on titan #attack on titan #aot x reader #aot anime #aot #aot fanfiction

17 notes · View notes

thepeakyfckingblinders · 5 years ago

Text

Răbĭēs || Michael Gray x reader

⤠ MASTERLIST⤟

Anon requested: 16 + 19 with michael please? xx Summary: n.16 & 19 from my prompt list: “Another’s hands on her skin” + “I’ll burn this fucking place down”. (Thomas being completely reckless here, shocker, I know)

Warnings: violence, heavy drinking, obviously swearing

Author’s notes:

I’m sorry for being this late, so so so sorry! I also forgot to tag you @namelesslosers, forgive me babe

The title is actually a Latin word, I LOVE LATIN SO DAMN MUCH, indeed I added its meaning as an intro for the piece, please tell me if you liked this idea

In this imagine the boys didn’t destroy The Marquis pub (at least not yet), plus the Changrettas attacked Arthur instead of Grace.

There’s a quote written in Italian in the middle of the script, it’s marked by an asterisk and you’ll find its translation at the end of the page.

Let me know what you think and tell me if this is what you expected ♡

I’m Italian, English isn’t my first language, so I apologize for every possible mistake I made. Also please, help me improve my writing by telling me if there’s something wrong

I FINALLY EDITED THIS IMAGINE, SO I HOPE IT’S BETTER NOW

I AM SO TRULY SORRY I DID SUCH A RUSHED WORK THIS TIME, FORGIVE ME, IT WAS A LONG AND HARD DAY, I NEEDED SOME OTHER TIME TO DO THINGS PROPERLY

ENJOY!

Răbĭēs feminine noun V declension 1. fury, rage, violence 2. madness, frenzy 3. amorous passion

“Tell me again why it had to be her” Michael’s voice came out in a growl, hampered by his clenched teeth, as he tensely moved on his chair, mechanically adjusting his classy pinstripe suit. He was unutterably furious because, that time more than any other, Thomas had seriously gone too far, to say the least. In fact, after John’s unpleasant encounter with Angelo Changretta, the Italian clan had started threatening the Peaky Blinders and, a few days later, two of their youngest recruits somehow managed to attack Arthur while he was alone on his way home, in the early hours of the morning.

Luckily, no grievous harm had come to the eldest Shelby, those inexperienced and undisciplined kids had only been able to leave a slight knife wound in his left side, but nevertheless, the whole family agreed that such an affront had to be punished. As a result, Tommy got to collect all sorts of information about the Changrettas thanks to his uncountable contacts in Birmingham and London, still that wasn’t enough to take actual action. He needed to hear what the Italians’ intentions were straight from their men’s mouth, so he inconsiderately decided to drag you in that dirty mess by asking you to charm one of their henchmen and obtain as many details as possible about their plans. It goes without saying that you immediately accepted his proposal, tired of not being helpful in any way, you were desperately longing for a chance to show them you were able to cope with that kind of business as well. For this reason, you didn’t think twice about it, not even when Michael found out and firmly objected to the idea of exposing his girlfriend to such a danger. So there you were: Tommy, John and Michael lurking in a secret room of The Marquis pub, two more blinders watching at the main entrance, while you sat alone at the bar, in all your magnificent beauty, patiently waiting for your target to show up. “ ‘Cause that fucking eyetie is almost a kid, we needed a young girl, a clever one, and that’s y/n, now just shut up ” Without blinking an eye at Michael’s totally justified rage, Thomas nonchalantly cleared his throat and spat that sharp answer with his typical adamant tone, then he opened his cigarette case handing it to his cousin, as if a simple smoke could repay him for the hell he was literally going through.

“That’s my girl, Tom! Christ, those people are dangerous!” Michael’s fists aggressively collided with the round table they were sitting to, and the crystal glasses full of whisky upon it alarmingly quaked, producing a disturbing tinkle that filled the room, together with his heavy breaths. “I don’t see much of a problem with that since she fucks you, a bloody gangster” Tommy’s lips, already tensed in a harsh grin, threw out that inflammatory remark as he lethargically played with the half empty cup in his right hand, his blue eyes fixed on the dark liquor swaying. And this time Michael definitely lost his temper, his face twitched with pure fury as he abruptly stood from his seat, without a second thought he would’ve rabidly pounced on Thomas, had it not been for John’s quick hands that promptly grabbed his shoulders in order to keep him in his place. “Hey! You’re acting like two fucking children” John blurted out, his low voice had the air quivering around their solid figures, then he moderately poked Michael’s neck in hope to put some sense back into him “Shit, you have to control yourself, kid! We need to stay focused on what’s important right now” As the middle brother surprisingly tried to act like the grown-up for once, they saw your elegant silhouette sneaking in the private room strategically located in front of them, so that they could have a clear visual on what was happening in there without being seen. You giggled in a flirtatious way, holding hands with the Italian guy -whose name turned out to be Salvatore- in order to lead him exactly where you wanted him to be. At that sight Michael rudely finished his drink in a single swig, before lighting the umpteenth cigarette of the night in attempt to calm his nerves, but then again he saw the bloke’s fingers ably linger your cheek and go down your neck while the two of you kept talking about only God knew what, and his blind rage inexorably erupted afresh. “You want me to stay here, nice and quiet, watching another’s hands on her skin without doing anything, that’s bullshit!” He angrily snarled, his fingers going through his short hair in a convulsive movement. John rolled his eyes at those words and boldly put on a taunting smirk as soon as the cigar he was smoking left his lips. “C’mon, Shakespeare, stop being so dramatic over this” But he immediately bowed his head in discomfort, when Thomas and Michael simultaneously sent him a menacing glare; in the meanwhile Salvatore tantalizingly leant towards your face, whispering in your ear with his strong accent something about how he’d like to feel your body against his, and you suddenly began to fear the potential developments of that risky situation. Michael, on the other hand, was now furiously walking up and down the place, it really felt like he was suffocating and he knew he couldn’t stand anything like that for much longer. “If that fucker gets that close to her again, I swear I’ll burn this fucking place down!” Exactly when his brutal voice came out in a frenetic shout, by sheer coincidence, he found himself watching one of the guy’s hands avidly grip your thigh left exposed by the slit of the glittering dress you were wearing; you instantly tried to push the stranger away, yet he was too strong in comparison and his filthy mouth overwhelmingly ended upon the hot skin of your neck.

John didn’t even have the time to fully pronounce the word “fuck” alone, that Michael already stormed in the room, he had raw hate burning in his eyes and sharp breaths shaking his body as he took heavy steps in your direction. “E tu chi cazzo sei?”* that was the only thing Salvatore was able to say, before your boyfriend roughly pulled him off you, punching him in the face multiple times and then forcing him to get down on his knees by holding a hand around his throat, nearly choking him on the spot. You had never seen him in such a state, your Michael was always sweet and caring, rarely nervous and even less violent, the one busy killing a man in front of your eyes was a complete different person, and that realization scared you to death. “John, get her out of here, now!” His tone brooked no arguments as he kept tightening his grip on the boy, despite your screams and prayers to stop; eventually Johnny obeyed to that severe order, dragging you out of the pub with no hesitation and leaving Thomas and Michael alone with their prey. “This bastard needs to learn a fucking lesson.”

*E tu chi cazzo sei? = Who the fuck are you?

595 notes · View notes

bedbellyandbeyond · 7 years ago

Text

Codename: Red

Long Post, Art At End - NEW CHARACTER

"Dari? You awake back there?" Fay asked. "We've almost arrived." They were on their way to Fay's work to have Dari checked up. For his pregnancy, he'd been regularly house visited by an external doctor, but he still had to come into the EID to see his psychiatrist and update his rehabilitation progress every other month. "I'm awake…" Since returning to Earth, Dari was much more comfortable riding in the back of the car so he could lie down and not have to look out the window. Making any eye contact with strangers on the outside made him terribly anxious and he didn't much like to watch the road either. It just made him motion sick and he didn't want to go back to the vomiting part of his pregnancy. He kept a hand on his stomach throughout the entire ride. At five months in, there was a fair bit to hold onto.

Fay pulled up to the front gates and fobbed his way into the facility and underground parking lot. After parking in his reserved space, he got out of the car and opened Dari's door for him. "Come on out, sweetheart." Dari groaned and sat up, unbuckling his seatbelt. "I hate check-ups." "I know. Don't worry. It'll be over soon." "You say that but it's not true," Dari said grabbing Fay's arm to help himself out. They made their way inside and up to Fay's office. Since Dari's appointment was in the afternoon, Dari was to hang around Fay for the time being. Even though Fay told him to ignore them, Dari couldn't help noticing the looks from his boyfriend's co-workers as they went down the hall to the separate office. "I'm going to be going over some files," Fay said. "You can use the couch to lie down if you feel like and of course there's water and some snack in the fridge, so-" "-Fay," Dari said. "We've done this before. I know. I curl up on the couch, you do some filing then you go off and see some clients and leave me all alone locked up in your office until my appointment." Fay sighed. "I just want to make you comfortable." "I'll be fine." With that Dari scooped up the blanket draped over the back of the sofa, wrapped himself up, and got snug on the couch. He was asleep almost instantaneously. Fay let out another sigh and got to work. After organising his things and updating Vi's information again, he slid all his paperwork into his drawer, pulled out a file and stood up. He looked over to the bundle that was Dari and rubbed his shoulder. "Hm?" "I'm off now," Fay said. "One hour with my first client, then I'll be back, okay?" "Mm…" "The door'll be locked so no one can bother you but you can get out in case you need the washroom or anything… You remember the passcode to get back in, right?" "Mm…17091989…" "Good. Love you." "Love you…" Fay leaned in and kissed Dari's head before leaving the room. He waited a moment outside the door to make sure he heard the door lock. Nothing worried him more than a snoopy or jealous co-worker finding their way into his room and potentially bothering Dari. He got to the elevator and swiped a card inside. Only these cards allowed access to the lowest floors of the EID where they kept new arrivals to Earth. Being so deep underground never ceased to put Fay on edge. As an ocean dweller, being so extremely buried in dirt felt rather threatening. But it was part of his job and while not comfortable, he was used to it. On the very bottom floor, security was dense. It took a good several minutes for Fay to get through all the procedures before he could walk freely again. The ceilings were high and the halls well lit in an attempt to make things feel more above ground, but the steel columns and rafters all but dissolved the illusion. Steel doors lined the halls and Fay made his way halfway down to the room number he was looking for. Even after dealing with this client many times, Fay still had to check the number since there were simply too many rooms. A low growl assured him it was the right room and he let himself in. The resident was sitting on a bed at the other end of the room. Fay did not miss the days when he'd be right at the door when Fay walked in, nearly scaring him. "Good morning," Fay said, in his best Yulini. He made his way to the table in the middle of the room and sat. There was a plate in the centre with a leg of lamb and seasoned potatoes. Fay's nose crinkle. "You haven't eaten breakfast?" His client didn't respond and just sniffed the air. Slowly he got up and came over, his seven feet of height lumbering over Fay. He stood beside him, sniffing again. He was the one who'd crashed in the Golf. His skin was a deep ashy red, his eyes big and black with white pupils, gem like structures protruding from his body including a single horn on his forehead. A long tail swung from side to side behind him, a dark plate at the end, flanked by two prongs. They'd given him pants but he'd arrived with ripped off world clothing, damaged in the crash it seemed. "Are you not talking to me, Red?" Fay asked pouting. "Did I do something wrong? Are we having a falling out?" Suddenly the alien Fay called Red grabbed his shirt and lifted him up. Fay's heart skipped a beat but he stayed calm and held up a hand at the cameras, knowing someone on the other end probably had their hand on the security button. "Hey. Speak to me please," Fay said looking in the dark eyes of his holder. "I don't like this and you're hurting me." His client lifted him closer and took another sniff before putting him down. "He's here," Red finally said through his own gruff and heavily grunt based language, sniffing the air above his head. "...What..." Fay's eyes widened suddenly. "Oh. Oh no. He's not." "He's here," Red repeated, turning to the door. "Hey, I know what you're thinking," Fay said. "It's not worth it. You'll only get hurt." Red quickly stomped to the door and sniffed around it. With two quick motions, he jabbed his fingers into the concrete on both sides of the door and ripped it from the wall, flinging it over his shoulder. Concrete dust scattered and showered Fay, blinding him for a moment. After a terrible coughing fit, the dust settled and Red was no longer there. Fay panicked and ran out to the hall, finding Red galloping on all fours down towards the elevator. He barrelled through security, knocking guards to either side. Once at the elevator doors, he threw himself at them, denting them inwards. By this time the alarms were sounding and security was catching up. Guards with tranquilisers got to the scene and were frantically shooting. It did little to deter the escapee and he pried the elevator doors open. There was no lift on the other side but it didn't seem to bother him. He leapt into the shaft and started climbing. Fay cursed and decided to run to the freight elevator. With the facility now in lockdown, he scrambled to put in the emergency override code. He managed to get it in and the elevator flung upward. He panted in the corner, catching his breath and praying that Dari would be alright.

Dari didn't know what to think when the alarms started going off. He had been napping and at first thought it was an alarm clock. When he realised he was still in Fay's office, he got up quickly and tried the door. The lockdown however had sealed it shut and he started to get scared. Fay's window was much to high to climb from so he was stuck. Shaking, he crawled under Fay's desk with the blanket and sobbed. Without a clue in the world what was going on, he feared the worst. He didn't know where Fay was. He didn't know what happened. He didn't know how to get out. He stayed huddled there for an uncountable amount of time. What bothered him most was the alarms ringing and reverberating in his head. He kept his hands over his ears trying to keep out the sound. It reminded him so much of the alarms on the captors' ship when they'd been attacked. All he knew was it meant danger. Suddenly, there was a loud crash and the floor trembled. Someone screamed. He balled up further, wrapping his arms around his stomach. Something was out there. He could hear the loud footfalls as whatever it was moved about the floor. It got close. Then stopped. He was in tears now. He couldn't help the sobs escaping him. Whatever it was, it had to be an alien, right? That's what Fay dealt with. That's what this place dealt with. And it's what Dari feared most. Whatever it was, he was not going to be captured again. He unfurled, looking around. Poking his head up from the desk, he froze. It was there. Right outside the door. A tall looming figure silhouetted in the frosted window of the door. His eyes glanced down to the desk and found a reasonably pointy letter opener. Dari grabbed it quickly and curled back up under the door. He needed to fight. There was no way his child was going to be abducted. He'd kill them and himself before that could ever happen. The door flew open. Dari held his breath, hoping if he didn't move and stayed quiet enough, he wouldn't be found out. The beast moved around the room. He could hear it sniffing the air. A big red two toed foot stepped in front of the opening of the desk. Dari's breath hitched. He recognised this foot. He couldn't help but let out a whimper. The desk disappeared from above him and crashed against the wall. Dari brandished the knife but his hands were trembling so hard, there was no way he could use it. He was already defeated. He just cried, his eyes shut tight. The knife was easily pulled out of his hands. He prepared for the worst. He felt himself being picked up by the big solid arms. Still sniffling and sobbing, he was pressed against the beast's shoulder. Fine, he said. I give up. Take me away. I know, I'm just a thing to you… But they didn't go anywhere he was just held there, tight in the beast's arms. Is this… he wondered. Is this a…hug? After a solid minute of being squished against the alien, he was relinquished and put down. Dari opened his eyes and panted, trying to catch his breath. He looked at his 'captor'. They were big, yes, but not as big as the alien he remembered, and not quite as rugged. In fact, he was missing a few qualities from the species he remembered, including a many more horns and a much thicker tail. Instead, this one was a lot more…human. "…You're…" Dari mumbled, raising a hand and pointing. "…You're…" The alien just sat there across from him, seemingly smiling and watching him. Dari still tried to gather his word. "…You're my…" Suddenly Dari could hear running coming down the hall and his name being called. The alien stood up quickly and got between him and the door. Dari recognised the voice. "Fay! Fay!" Fay got to the door, panting. "Dari! Are you…" He scowled up at the alien before him. "If you've done anything to Dari, I swear…" "He didn't do anything!" Dari said getting up and trying to move around the alien. "Fay, he's my son!" Fay got to Dari and pulled him into a hug. "Dari, you're okay, right? I'm so sorry…" "He's my son, Fay!" Dari said. "I can't believe… My first…" Then he looked at Fay. "Wait, did you know?" Fay's eyes widened. "No, no… Well… I…" Dari's pulled away from him. "You knew?! You knew one of my children was here and you didn't tell me?" "Dari," Fay said. "In your state, I didn't want you to get upset. I knew Red would bring back bad memories!" "I don't care!" Dari said. "He's my son! I can…" He turned to the alien who was just watching them both. "I can hold my child…" Dari reached out for his face. "Red?" "We named him that... His species doesn't seem to really have names," Fay said. "It's mostly visually and scent based identification." Red dropped his face into Dari's hands and let him feel his features. "I'll find him a name," Dari said, rubbing his thumbs over his son's cheeks. "Hah, he got my freckles…" Fay raised an eyebrow and looked back to Red. "Those are diamond shaped markings, not freckles." "They're freckles, Fay," Dari said. "Don't be jealous." Fay huffed. "I'm not jealous." Dari moved his hands down to his son's big arms. "…He should come home with us." Fay blinked. "What? Absolutely not. There's no way." "Fay, he's all alone and scared," Dari said. "Dari, listen to me," Fay said. "He just did hundreds of thousands of dollars' worth of damage here and also happens to be a loose unregistered alien from a hostile planet. We are not taking him home with us." "You can talk to him though, right?" Dari asked. "You know what he's about. He's good and you like him, I bet." "It's not about whether I like him or not!" Fay said. "After doing this, there is no way anyone's going to let him go anywhere but back to the planet he came from." "Fay, he doesn't fit in there," Dari said. "He'd be too small. He's probably a refugee." "There is nothing at all small about him," Fay stated. "I've seen his kind!" Dari said. "I know, not you! They are three times his size! They'll kill him if he goes back!" "My hands are tied, Dari!" Fay said. "Even if he hadn't just destroyed my office, he would need years of processing before they even let him set foot outside." "Fay," Dari said. "I'm not leaving this building without him." "Dari." "Fay." "Dari!" "He's my son." Fay grit his teeth and looked between Red and Dari, both watching him expectantly. He sighed. "This is going to get me fired."

Dari: My son is so handsome and beautiful and tall and strong and just...really real. I can touch him and hug him and... Fay, I’m gonna cry...

Fay: There, there. *hugs him* He gets all his good looks from you.

#new character #Dari #Fay #Red #mpreg #alien #alien abduction #alien abductee #lore

67 notes · View notes

sserpente · 8 years ago

Photo

A/N: MAY THE FOURTH BE WITH YOU!

Words: 2768 Warnings: slavery

The planet you had been born on was anything but pleasant. With humanoid creatures trading humans like mindless animals, like obedient pets and an alien ruler who despised your race to his very core, your chances of survival were miserably little.

“Creatures” like you, they didn’t get to live normal in this rotten place. They were born into families whose owners had instructed them to produce offspring to ensure a never ending existence of unwilling slaves to then carelessly dispose of those they were fed up with or even worse, those who were unlucky enough to suffer from their demolishing anger. A natural trait of the humanoids.

Once in a while, however, something extraordinary happened to the human people on your home planet. Once, maybe twice or thrice a decade, they were born, unknowing of their peculiar fate. Force sensitives. And you were one of them.

You had found out by coincidence, the hot rage surging within you whenever you had to face your masters, those ugly humanoids demanding your loyalty. Light bulbs burst, lights flickered and then, when you had imagined squeezing that fat little throat of those disgusting aliens, you had choked them with nothing but the strength of your mind.

Force sensitives like you were valuable, priceless even. Your powers were beyond imaginable and they sold for a quite descent prize. So here you were. Rotting in a tiny cell and waiting for the next auction which would take place any minute and where creatures and humans from uncountable planets would come and examine you like an object. If you got lucky, the person buying you would show mercy, treat you like a person even.

All of your hopes were crushed, however, when you saw a bunch of soldiers enter, dressed in white armour. Even you, lacking of education and knowledge about the universe, knew instantly they were dangerous. And certainly, they would bring no good.

Followed by a figure clothed all in black, they respectfully stepped aside and made room for their leader—she… or he looked eerie, intimidating and powerful. Black robes and leather gloves and, what scared you the most, a black mask hiding… what? A face? A shudder went through you when you thought about what could be lurking under those very clothes.

“Commander! The First Order! To what do we owe the honour?” Your master bowed so low his nose almost reached his toes. The First Order. You had heard of it. A powerful organisation, by all means, a threat to the humanoids that held you captive.

“Spare me the false loyalty,” he spat in reply, making you flinch. He was male, his voice distorted by his horrifying helmet. “I have been told you habour force sensitives.”

“I- uh, uh, of course, we have one… but I’m afraid she is not… she is very expensive, you must know.”

“Is she?” Raising his voice a bit, the stranger tilted his head. Only the fraction of a second later, you could literally feel his burning gaze on you, even if you couldn’t see his eyes. Swallowing thickly, you shifted in your tiny cell.

What he did next surprised you at the very least. Terrified, you jumped when he pulled a metallic weapon from his belt and turned it on, drowning the auction room in a creepy red light as it crackled loudly and seemed to surge the air around him. Was that… a lightsaber? Was he a force sensitive too? Maybe that’s how he could tell it was you your master had been talking about.

The humanoid being screamed when he rammed the glowing weapon into his chest, turning and twisting it to his ear-piercing screams. Then, it was over. Silence spread in the room as the Commander returned his lightsaber to its rightful place and then clenched his fists.

Danger was radiating off him like heat and fire, making you breathe in sharply and recoil to the back of your small cell when he started walking towards you, your gaze fixed on the now dead body of your former master.

He knelt down in front of you and mutely ordered one of his soldiers to open the cell, which they did by simply firing a blaster at the lock. It shrieked when it fell open, broken, and eliminating the last protecting barrier there was between you and him.

Please don’t kill me, you attempted to say, but no matter how hard you tried, no sound would escape your lips.

It was then you heard a smooth and throaty voice in your head. His voice. Without the impact of his eerie mask.

I won’t. I came to save you.

Grunting, you turned around, burying you face in a pillow when you heard the doors to your quarters open to rouse you from your slumber. Other than the cleaning droids, there was only one person who could access your private rooms.

“Five more minutes,” your voice was muffled, dull from the sheets you had wrapped around your whole body.

Kylo’s footsteps got louder, his tread threatening and intimidating.

“No. Get up.” Usually, whenever the two of you were together, undisturbed and alone, the Knight of Ren would remove his helmet. Today, however, he seemed to be in a hurry. You rolled your eyes, turning once more to face him with sleepy eyes.

“Are we having a stare down contest, I can’t tell.”

“Get up, (Y/N),”

“I’m training every fucking day, can’t you give me a break? Just… five more minutes, alright?” It wasn’t like you weren’t respecting him—quite on the contrary. You were dedicated and grateful; not only had he saved you from slavery but also given you a home, a purpose and training to become a powerful force user.

He had taught you everything, from your enemies, The Resistance and the Jedi to Supreme Leader Snoke’s demands. The First Order was your family, Kylo Ren was… the man you could never have. You had been stunned the first time he had removed his mask. A beautiful face with even more beautiful dark eyes, full of pain and determination was what you’d been confronted with, causing you to do the one thing you weren’t supposed to do—fall in love. From that day forth, you had started practicing frantically, making sure he wouldn’t be able to see inside your head and sense your feelings.

“There’s no training today. You will join me on a mission.” He boldly interrupted your thoughts.

“A mission? Wait, are we… are we… I mean, are we actually leaving Starkiller Base?”

His answer was a brief nod, barely visible because of his helmet. A gasp escaped your lips. You nearly knocked him over as you jumped out of bed, careless of the fact you were wearing nothing but a thin tanktop and your panties. Despite the fact you wanted to pull off a show for him, that man right in front of you had been inside your head numerous times. Therefore, there was no reason to be shy about your body.

“Yes, we are. Get dressed, we’re leaving in ten minutes.”

“You seem particularly grumpy today, something the matter?” Innocently, you put on a black and long-sleeved shirt and equally black pants, followed by black boots. Kylo had insisted on dressing you in his colour so everyone would show you respect and know what you were capable of. Thus far, it had worked perfectly, besides, you liked black anyway—it was way better than the dirty grey you had had to wear as a slave back in the days.

“Hux will be joining us.” Kylo simply gave back as you walked into the refresher, his fists clenching angrily in the process. A silent giggle escaped your lips.

“I really don’t get how you hate him so much.” In fact, however, you knew exactly why he despised the ginger General. He fancied you—way more than a General should fancy an apprentice of Kylo Ren and despite the Knight of Ren himself had never approached you in a romantic way, he acted awkwardly jealous whenever the three of you were together. It was hilarious, really.

“You know very well why. Now let’s go.”

Grinning, you saluted. “Yes, sir.”

It was even better than you had expected. Although Kylo hadn’t told you what exactly the mission was about, you enjoyed the fresh air. The planet you had landed on was beyond beautiful, with billions of green plants, bushes and trees, despite it was inhabited by the very same humanoids that had enslaved you, only they had been quite friendly towards you thus far. Apparently, Hux was going to recruit their people to join the First Order, for that cause, the disgusting aliens had even offered you accommodation which you had rather reluctantly took. With Kylo by your side, however, you figured you’d be safe.

The best part of this though, was how Hux and Kylo were constantly quarreling. Fighting over the littlest things, it ended in your master force pushing the General into a nearby tree, inflicting a bleeding cut right on his forehead.

Screeching, you rolled your eyes.

“That’s enough! If I knew you brought me to be your babysitter today, I wouldn’t have come in the first place, damn it!” You rushed over to Hux, gnashing your teeth as you did, and pulled some clean bandages out of one of your pockets.

An injured General was a mad General and as much as you both hated to admit it, he was still in charge of your living conditions on Starkiller. For all you knew, he could make you sleep in a broom chamber.

You could literally feel Kylo tense and squirm as you patched him up again. First, you assumed it must have been your connection through the Force. Hux disapproved of that theory when he spoke up and caused all hell to break lose.

“What’s the matter, Ren, are you jealous?”

His response was a judging tilt of his head, a split second later you could hear the General choke. Frowning, you looked at him, watching his skin turning a light blue colour in his face.

“Kylo! Kylo, stop it, Kylo! Are you fucking insane?! Stop it. Grow up. Both of you.”

“Maybe…” Hux started, panting heavily. “We should call it a day so the Commander can cool down. You can join me in my tent, (Y/N).”

The Knight of Ren clenched his fists. “She sleeps in mine.”

“Ren, are you aware that…”

“She is my apprentice, she sleeps in my tent.”

“Guys…” Breathing in and out loudly, you massaged your temples. The tension between the two of them was tangible and what made it even worse was that one of them was awfully jealous, the other liked you more than he should. You were right in between a testosterone-driven kindergarten brawl.

Why can’t you fucking see I love you, Kylo Ren? Never had you been happier about the fact the Knight of Ren couldn’t read your mind anymore—unless you let him, that was.

“Is there anything we can do for you? General? Commander?” The humanoid interrupting you was a little taller than the one who had enslaved you. He was still ugly though and he didn’t speak English—his rough language pestering your ears like hot needles.

“They’re fine, leave us!” You answered tetchily, feeling the sudden urge to wash your mouth for speaking in their tongue again. Trembling, he backed off, leaving both Kylo and Hux turning their heads to you, a confused expression on their faces. Well, on Hux’ face, for your tutor was still wearing his mask.

“How are you able to understand them? Hardly anyone speaks their language.” The General spoke up, almost disgusted all of a sudden.

“I grew up speaking their language, Hux. You seem to forget that English is not my mother tongue either.” You growled, sensing how Kylo sent waves of angry energy towards you.

“Yes. I tend to forget that a lot. Your language skills are beyond exceptional.” And that was a compliment? That wasn’t even worth a try. The Commander chuckled darkly in your mind.

“You tend to forget a lot lately, General. Perhaps it’d be wise for you to study your acquaintances more precisely.” He said out loud then.

Bloody hell, here we go again. You could practically see him frown behind his mask.

“You go to bed, now. Good night, General.” And with that, he firmly grabbed your arm and yanked you with him. His grip was so painful you yelped, hot rage washing through you as he pushed you into the tent and then reached up to his helmet to take it off.

“Are you mad at me now, what have I done?!” You complained.

“It’s the General. If it wasn’t for the Supreme Leader, I would have long pierced his throat with my lightsaber. He is into you.”

“Right, and you’re jealous.”

Having these kinds of conversations was always dangerous. Both you and Kylo knew that he liked to lash out on occasion, destroying everything and everyone in his environment. You couldn’t have that, not here. Not over you.

The Knight of Ren said nothing. Instead, his gaze was so menacing you felt the urge to take a step back. You could feel the Force gushing around him, drawing you even closer to presence.

“You’re jealous,” You repeated. “You’re jealous of Hux. God damn it, Kylo, I don’t want Hux, I don’t know why you’re so fucking worried. You’re the one who saved me, you’re the one who’s teaching me, you’re the one who gave me a home and you‘re the man I love!”

Stopping dead in your tracks, you tensed, swallowing thickly. You had not meant to say that last bit out loud.

Kylo frowned. His lips parted in confusion. For once, you could hear millions of thoughts tumbling inside his head. Your head was buzzing when he finally spoke up and started at you, stopping mere inches before your stature so you had to lift your chin to face him.

“You can’t love me. You’re my apprentice, I am your master.”

It was like he had ripped your heart out.

“Is that all you have to say? You told me the Force was all about passion and power. What stronger power is there than love? I fucking fell for you the first time you showed me your face. I fell for your eyes, the way they looked at me. You’re my hero.” You admitted. Biting back your tears, you settled for chewing on your lower lip instead.

I’m not a hero. I’m one of the bad ones, you heard his voice in your head.

“You’re a hero to me.”

“Am I?” You could feel his breath on lips, inviting you to kiss him.

So you did. You leaned forward, grabbing ahold of his hair so he couldn’t escape your assault and then pressed your mouth against his. It wasn’t a gentle kiss, nor was it a rough one. But it was passionate and it grew more so with every second that passed. It was like your power connected, mixing like blood and water and tangling in each other like dozens of thin ropes.

“Let me. Please. Just let me. Fuck Hux. Fuck everything else. Just let me.”

“Let… you… what?” Kylo whispered out of breath after you’d pulled away, pressing yourself against his muscly chest.

“Let me love you.”

His strong arms wrapped around your body. You could feel the cool leather of his gloves on your back as he held you close, resting his chin on your head. His eyes were closed, you could tell.

“If I do, then will you promise me that it won’t hurt? Ever?”

“It won’t. It won’t. You’re everything I have, Kylo.”

You didn’t need a response, for you could feel it, sense it in all of your cells. Your body was linked to his, like it couldn’t exist without his presence.

Maybe that stupid mission had been a good idea after all. Maybe Hux’ scornful remarks augured well in the end, for after as long as you had known the restive and stubborn Knight of Ren with a bad temper, he was lonely and lost. You had been inside his head, you had felt the pain that he had felt. Maybe there was no one else who understood him, no one else who could comprehend his actions. But you could. You were there for him and he was for you. To hell with all those who thought him evil.

Kylo was good, you thought peacefully. He was whenever he was with you.

906 notes · View notes

ohsobittle · 8 years ago

Text

An excerpt from my novel, Citizens of Jericho, concerning an event in the war that, while unimportant in the ultimate scheme of things, remains hugely significant in the lives of two of our characters.

Mostly under the cut because of content warnings: graphic depiction of violence.

Nobody was where they were supposed to be. Dead, too many of them, an as yet uncounted number of their own people, dead, and for no other reason than that nobody was where they were supposed to be.

Bad intelligence.

Cohen was still reeling.

It was supposed to have been simple: grueling, like all things on this godforsaken chunk of ice were, but simple. Go in. Blast the MAAF out of the still-standing buildings in the square. Claim another inch of territory, advance another inch towards occupying this place.

According to their intel, the Martians were in the northwestern building, with the southern perimeter being only sparsely defended. Terran Coalition forces should’ve been able to sweep through and take the temple on the southeastern corner easily, set up a cannon in the relatively protected cloisters, and fire on the structures opposite.

Except that they weren’t in the northwestern building. They were in the fucking temple. The temple!! Not even in phase one, and the plan was already blown to hell.

Nobody was counting on the Nationalists, either. While Cohen’s unit was fighting for their lives, retreating backwards into the minimal cover offered by the eastern stoa, an explosion rocked the ground near their feet and all of a sudden he was diving right to avoid a falling balustrade. The world tilted, sound blurring and fading first out and then in again with an echoing ring that he was certain would deafen him. Around him, his unit was being cut down by invisible energy—no, bullets, these fuckers had bullets – as a new force of grey-clad rebels flooded in from the west. No, the north. No, they were everywhere, storming in through the open spaces of the square, pouring through the cracks of every defense, a grey tide that threatened to crush them all irrespective of allegiance.

It was chaos.

He got to his feet, crouching behind the rubble that had just nearly killed him to fire at the mass of grey that was overtaking his vision, trying to thin the herd, trying to fight down the panic bubbling up in the pit of his stomach. Every time he rose above his cover to shoot, he chanced glances around the field, attempting to determine where in the hell he should go; the stoa offered scant protection.

The TC forces were fractured, scattered across the battlefield. To his left, MAAF troops held the temple and were firing on both the stoa and the open square. To his right, a small knot of his own people were engaged similarly to him; one crumpled forward and did not rise. Diagonal to him, a larger group of TCF fighters were wedged between the eastern and northern stoas, trapped in the crossfire of the Martian and Nationalist sides. They were struggling, disorganized, caught off guard. Cohen collapsed back behind his cover, wracking his brain for his next move.

And then came the orders. Crackling through their radios, barely audible through the din of battle, came the voice of their lieutenant ordering them to converge on the northern wing of what had been their intended target: the northwestern building. Sure; why not, if all their information was wrong? Cohen picked himself off his ass and grabbed those nearest to him to make the dash through the stoa.

They couldn’t have moved too soon. The grey tide kept rushing forward, breaking over the rubble in their path and everywhere, everywhere, sowing death. A grenade launched at the temple brought pieces of the stone façade roaring to the ground, crushing TCF and MAAF troops both. Bullets fired from an automatic – fuck, who was supplying these bastards?! – cut a bloody line through those running with Cohen, embedding themselves in flesh, cement, stone, tile.

In all, three of Cohen’s group made it to the building. They squeezed through a crack in the rubble and found themselves, for a moment, in relative quiet. This had been a government building, once. The Palace of Administration. Now, it was a shell. The surviving members of their strike force were all assembled, half barricading the far door, half anxiously checking and re-checking the space around them. Though protected, it was too open. The ceiling arched high above them, echoing the sounds of distant fighting from elsewhere in the building, the screams of dying men and women reverberating in an unearthly sound that would haunt all of their nightmares.

The respite was temporary. They were told that the only way out of this square was through the west wing of the building, the place that was currently occupied with what sounded to be both nationalist and MAAF troops. Bringing a third side to that would only make matters go from chaotic to apocalyptic. It was a fool’s chance, but it was the only hope they had. With orders to regroup at the staging area five klicks to the southeast of the square, they were dismissed with luck.

It was at this point that Cohen went completely numb. The fear from the stoa that had risen in his throat unbidden was now chilled, his chest an empty cavity that held no feeling. This was it. This was probably how he was going to die. It wouldn’t even mean anything. He would be one among dozens—hundreds?—dead in this icy, bombed-out square. Probably nobody would walk away with a victory here. It didn’t even mean anything. He moved mechanically, falling in step with two of his sisters in arms as they jogged west out of their sanctuary, towards the screams and chaos of battle.

And chaos it was. They ran as far as they could, as fast as they could, before the bloodbath opened up before their eyes and they were forced to choose whether to blast directly into the fray, or dive behind pillars and try to survive. Nationalist forces fought bitterly with starving, desperate MAAF soldiers, beams of scarlet energy flashing through the crowds, bullets cutting men down with bloody, savage brutality. The first wave of the TCF were cut down immediately, falling in a too-neat line across the ground. They didn’t even die quickly; Cohen watched one, a kid his own age, heaving ineffectually, trying to reach the blaster just out of his grip. Blood. So much blood. The chiming of blaster fire echoed off the marble walls, accompanied by the harsh, thundering report of nationalist guns to combine in a terrible symphony.

Cohen nearly froze in the face of it, a musician without his sheet music. Close quarters fighting, with weapons intended for battle at a distance. To his right, a woman with a charred, smoking stump where her arm should be. Nearly at his feet, a man with a gaping wound in his chest, leaking blood and heaving ineffectual breaths. A beam of energy rocketed towards him and the soldier to his left, and he reacted instinctively, grabbing the man and diving for cover. Cohen stopped to draw breath, looking at the man he had saved. The astonished eyes of a Nationalist fighter stared back, both of them momentarily shocked still. Cohen reacted first and the man dropped, Cohen’s weapon singing.

The TCF were scattered throughout the bloodbath, hiding or fighting for their lives, often both. There were no sides anymore, in this mess; each soldier fought and died alone, made the desperate bid for escape alone, was wounded and left to suffer alone. He looked around, searching for any friendlies, refusing to let them be slaughtered like animals. Across from him, behind the pillar paralleling his, were two from his unit. Sawyer crouched down low while Jansdottir stood above her, both firing pointlessly into the fray. Cohen dashed across to join them.

Come on! He shouted, motioning them toward the wall. With me!

He led, laying down cover fire in front, trusting them to fall in behind him. They did, laying down their own cover fire as they all three crawled along the wall, hanging at the fringes of the fight. There weren’t clear “lines” to this battle—it wasn’t organized enough for that—but if there were, they would be walking behind the MAAF. As they advanced, inch by inch, they grabbed what friendlies they could. There weren’t many.

Women, men, others...they kept falling, sagging back dead or grievously wounded, and still Cohen’s little group advanced. One step here. Pause. Several minutes of firing, anywhere they encountered resistance (everywhere). Another step. Pause. Repeat. A MAAF fighter collapsed against the wall just in front of Cohen, holding her bleeding side with one hand, her blaster rifle sagging out of her grip. Another bullet flew out of nowhere, and she was down. Cohen tried not to look at her. Another step.

Somehow, they made it out of the bloodbath. Cohen, Sawyer, Ahmed, a few others. Not Jansdottir. Suddenly, they had turned a corner, and found themselves in an empty hallway, the sounds of battle mostly behind them. Ahead, they could hear the distant sound of more fighting, reminding them of what they had left in the square. The group looked at him, Cohen realized, and he nodded. They were going to make it out of here.

They took off at a run again, their footfalls echoing off the marble. Anyone waiting for them at the other end of this would hear them coming well before they were even seen. Fortunately, miraculously, the exit was clear, only guarded by two Nationalist sentries. Sawyer and Ahmed shot them before they could even raise their rifles.

Outside, the grey tide had ceased to flow inward; the fight was now contained, confined to the bounds of the square. The survivors, with Cohen somehow leading them, were able to dash the few yards to safety across the entrance to the square. Behind the cloisters, hidden by rubble, four TCF survivors crouched around a wounded comrade. She was dying. But she wouldn’t die here. Cohen bent, picking her up in a fireman’s carry, fixing the others with a determined look.

Come on. Time to go. Cohen set the pace, a steady jog they could maintain: even the wounded, even him, carrying the dying soldier. They ran, letting the city enfold them. They ran, twisting and turning down alleys. They ran, leaving the killing-field far behind them. They were close, so close, to safety. To actual commanders. Almost there.

They stumbled into the staging area, medics rushing over to take the dying woman onto a stretcher. Dizzied, Cohen stumbled back and out of the way. Where was his lieutenant? Who was he to report to here? There were so few who had made it back.

No one approached him yet, and he stood, taking it in. The dying woman was breathing her last, the medics helpless in their efforts. They stood, moving on to other patients. Sawyer, holding her arm tightly to her side, sat down heavily on a piece of rubble, blood streaming from a bullet wound in her shoulder that Cohen was just now noticing. He looked behind him; fifteen wounded soldiers had followed him to safety, were now being received by medics.

And in the middle of it all, the Mercurian “agent”, the veritable child. What was she doing here?

Somehow she had gotten caught up in this mess. Fuck—she was only seventeen. She should’ve been off planet by now. But here she stood, calm as a statue in the midst of chaos and war and death. There was so much blood; her clothes shone with it. Not her own, it couldn’t possibly be, or she wouldn’t be standing. The thick lanotec cap that she wore to protect her buzzed scalp from the cold was sliding off, a hole was burned through the side of one of her coat sleeves, a darkening bruise forming over a swollen cheek. And still she stood, presenting that same impenetrable mask.

The troops thought her a freak; a trained, emotionless weapon of human implosion. She certainly did nothing to dispel their impression, even seeming to encourage it. Cohen wasn’t fooled.

She was not unaffected.

She was in shock.

She had never seen death. Not like this, at least. Death in her world was probably the work of precision, carefully timed and executed. Clean. She had never seen a massacre. And this was. It had been a massacre. It dawned on Cohen then—there were no more survivors. His lieutenant was no longer there to report to.

Eli blinked, suddenly aware that he’d dropped out of the conversation. Marah, no longer a child, was looking at him with mild concern, waiting for him to come back. How much had he missed?

“I’m sorry…what?”

“I didn’t say anything. Don’t worry, Eli. We all do it.”

Her tone did not betray who exactly was meant by “we”. Now Eli was the one who was concerned. Did she think this was normal? Dissociating? Flashbacks? Did she think that everyone dealt with that? Or was she just talking about the survivors?

“Eli?”

“Sorry. I was just…thinking.”

#CoJ #Rory Writes #my writing #my content #sci-fi #dark stabby the space roomba #please validate me #this is the first time I've written anything major for my original content in years

43 notes · View notes