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crumbledcastle28 · 4 years ago

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Chapter 5: An Old Friend

Warnings: this one is mostly fluff, so I don’t think there are any warnings. Maybe references to past trauma? If I’m missing one please lmk!

Author’s Note: Chapter 5!! Enjoy!!

(gif gotten from javierian)

After the little…. predicament with the last mission…. you couldn’t deny that you had gotten closer with the anonymous man you had been living with.

You made pleasant conversation, never too deep, but you felt more comfortable in his company. You had felt the same way with Peli… but this was different.

Your heart rate would increase whenever he would talk to you, and your mood would increase as well. You were excited to get to know him! This man who had taken you in knowing absolutely nothing about you. The least you could do was make him feel comfortable around you, and that didn’t even feel like enough.

It made you happy when he would ask you questions, like “did you enjoy the dinner last night” or “how did you sleep.”

It felt good to have someone be curious and care about you in your present state, not just your past or your abilities. And you loved to ask him questions too.

If you were lucky, he would tell you a story about an old job he did, and those were the best. It was like getting little pieces to a much larger, beautiful puzzle. A puzzle you prayed you would see finished by the end of your time with him.

The best interaction you had, by far, was when he finally ate with you.

It had been a nice day. You guys had stopped for supplies and it felt good to stretch your legs a little bit.

You found a great little food stand that had fresh meat and vegetables, and you knew you could make a delicious meal out of it. You shared your excitement with Mando, who nodded and helped you carry the supplies back to the crest.

Once you made it back and put all the supplies down in the incredibly tiny kitchen, you went to work.

You used amazing spices that you hadn’t tasted in weeks on the meat, and made sure to brown the vegetables in the same pan you used for the meat. That way they would soak up the amazing rendered flavors that the meat left over. After that, you put it all together in a pot and poured savory chicken broth in to mix the flavors.

Your stomach was grumbling at the smell alone.

The kid was hungry too, you could tell by the way he stared at you while you worked, so you made sure to save a hefty serving for him when you poured the meal into serving bowls.

You gave the little guy his serving and set yours right next to his on the dining table. You then carried Mando’s serving to the cockpit to give it to him.

You had an idea…. and you hated how you got your hopes up that he would agree.

You stood behind the pilot’s chair for a moment, until you finally took a deep breath and said, “Dinner is ready.”

Mando spun around in his chair and took the bowl from you.

“This smells amazing. Thank you,” he said and got up to walk to his room. He always ate in there because of his creed, and you felt a pull on your heartstrings every time you would think about him eating all alone. You wanted him with you and the kid. You felt full when you three were together, and Mando eating alone felt like you were leaving him out. You knew what that felt like, and you never wanted to inflict it on others.

This was it. This was the moment.

“Wait,” you said, and he turned back around to you, still holding the bowl in his hands.

Every time he looked at you straight on you felt your nerves creep up your spine and your hands become fidgety. You felt cheesy and stupid. This man was basically your roommate, not some partner you needed to impress.

But why does it feel that way?

“I uh… I was thinking that maybe.. we could figure out a way to eat together? I feel bad that you have to eat alone in your room, so maybe I could.. I don’t know.. turn around? And get the kid to do that as well? If you aren’t comfortable with that I totally get it, I just.. feel really bad that you don’t have anyone to eat with,” you say.

Of course he will say no. Why would he trust someone to just “turn around?” As if they wouldn’t want to catch a glimpse?

Your hopes were sinking every moment he stood in silence, and you weren’t liking your chances.

He looked down at his bowl and then back up at you, and these were the moments you wished he wasn’t so good at hiding his emotions. You wanted to see and feel what he was thinking, but he was impenetrable. He was like a stone wall, and you hated it.

He sighed, obviously thinking about what you said, and you just waited. You didn’t want to pressure him anymore. He can make his own decisions, and you can deal with them.

“If I do that,” he says, “you have to swear to me… you won’t turn around. And you won’t let the kid turn either.”

Your eyes widened.

It worked, you think. How the hell did that work?

“I swear Mando. I will not turn around on any circumstance, and I will do everything in my power to keep the kid at bay. If he doesn’t want to cooperate, I will eat with him away from you just to be safe. I promise,” you say and he nods.

“Ok,” he mumbles, and you smile at him. A genuine smile. A smile that says all the things you wish you could say, but are too afraid.

You hoped he wasn’t as good at reading people as you were.

“Ok. Let’s go,” you say and he follows you back to the table.

“Ok kid. You’ve gotta turn around for me ok,” you say to the kid and he babbles something incoherent.

“Thank you for the compliment on the food. I’ve known that recipe for a while,” you say with a giggle while turning his chair around.

You turn yours around as well and grab your bowl to set on your lap.

You and the child are now facing away from Mando, eating your dinner, and you couldn’t be happier.

Your belly slowly becoming more full calms your excitement, until you hear a small hiss and the sound of metal scratching the floor.

It’s off. Mando’s helmet is off.

You take a deep breath and close your eyes.

He did it. He really trusts me to do this.

You hear the sounds of him eating the soup and you swear this couldn’t get any better.

You go back to eating with a huge grin on your face, and you keep the child in your peripheral vision to make sure he doesn’t turn either.

You had connected with him through the force a couple of times since your first meeting. You had gotten better at reading the little one, and you could see just a faint look of understanding in his body language.

He didn’t waver. He didn’t squirm. He just ate as still as he could, and you were so grateful.

Seriously? This was all it took for the kid to behave, you wondered to yourself

Mando mumbling, “This is really good,” shatters through your thoughts like ice.

Mando’s voice. His true voice, just hit your ears for the first time ever, and you wanted it burned into your brain forever. You never wanted to hear anything different.

It wasn’t just the sound of it, but the feeling. You could hear the gratitude in his voice and it sent chills down your arms.

It was him. His voice. Something no one could ever replicate. It was truly his own.

“Thank you,” you say and take another sip of your soup. Your appetite has basically vanished at this point, and your ears just yearn to hear more.

“I think the kid is enjoying himself,” you say, and you pray you get Mando’s rarest gem of all in its rawest form.

And you do.

He gives a soft chuckle of a laugh. “Yeah, I think so too,” he says and takes another bite.

If you dropped dead right now, you would die a happy woman.

How do you even iterate what that felt like? What it felt like to hear this big, scary, metallic man give off something so vulnerable to you.

Had other people heard this at all? Maybe not even since he was a child?

Your hands started to shake from the endorphins and you finished your bowl. You took the kid’s bowl as well and placed it inside your own and just sat. Just soaked in this happy moment that you never wanted to end.

If only you knew how big of a smile Mando had on his face behind you.

~~*~~

A few days pass and the energy on the ship is the best it’s ever been.

You had eaten dinner together every day since then, and you wondered how something so simple could make you so….happy.

Mando was at his pilot’s chair (as usual) and he called for you to come to the cockpit.

Luckily it was pretty late, so the kid was passed out.

You made your way to the cockpit and saw that Mando had an image broadcasting from the ship’s holoprojecter. The image was of a man with a darker skin tone and flecks of grey in his hair. He looked like he had been through a lot, as his clothes were slightly tattered and ripped.

“I’d like you to hear this,” Mando said before pressing play.

The man in the image proceeded to explain how ranks of ex- imperial guards were ruling over his city and they needed Mando’s help to take them down. He proposed that Mando return to Nevaro and bring the child as bait, and once they got near the client, Mando would kill him.

The man said that if Mando succeeded, he would have his name cleared in the Guild and he can keep the child.

The clip ended and Mando turned to face you.

“What do you think,” he asked, and you looked to the floor with knit eyebrows, thinking.

“Bringing the child as bait is incredibly risky, but if you trust that man, I don’t see a problem with it. You can take down ex- Imperial guards no problem,” you say, and he nods.

“I’m just confused how you even know that man,” you say.

“He’s… an old friend,” Mando says, and you don’t like the sound of that.

“We kinda got off on the wrong foot last time we talked,” he said, and you nodded.

“So… he is saying you get to keep the child if you succeed, but we have had him this whole time?”

“There’s something you need to know,” he says, and he goes to explain how he really got the child, and how he has been being hunted by the Empire this whole time.

Throughout the explanation, you listen intently, nodding and keeping eye contact with Mando.

You would think that the fact that the Empire had been on your tracks the whole time would scare you, but it doesn’t.

It fuels you. You three were pissing the Empire off, and there was nothing you liked doing more.

You felt powerful. Unstoppable. For once you were making them mad, not the other way around. And you liked it.

You are not angry at Mando, not even a little. You feel relieved.

This perfect man who had given you nothing but happiness….wasn’t perfect. You had so many demons, and you found someone who did too. Someone who did something bad for the right reasons. You found a good person, who did the right thing because it was right. He had a good heart rather than an ego, and he let you in on something so precious to him. This child.

And you were not gonna let the galaxy rip him away.

Once he finished, you took a deep breath. You looked at him and smiled.

“You know…I am pretty relieved Mando,” you say, and he cocked his head to the side slightly in confusion.

“I thought you looked like that under the helmet,” you say, gesturing with your head to the sleeping green creature behind you, and you laugh.

Mando’s shoulders relax, and his grip on the arm rests of the pilot’s chair softens.

“Seriously Mando, it’s ok. You did the right thing. 99% of people would have just dumped the kid and left. I am proud of you. I am proud to be on this mission,” you say.

“If saving a baby from the Empire gets me arrested, then by all means let them arrest me.”

Mando’s shoulders shake a little. It probably felt incredible to get this off his chest. He had been keeping this from you for a while.

I wonder if eating with me helped him trust me more?

“Ok,” he breathes out of his helmet. “Good. I was hoping you’d stay.”

“Oh I’m staying alright,” you say and he gives a breathy laugh.

“But this is your decision Mando. I am up for going or staying. I know you understand there are risks in both options,” you say, referring to the offer the man on the recording had given you earlier.

“Whatever you want to do. I trust you,” you say and his head snaps back to make eye contact with you.

You give him a weak smile, and allow what you said to sink through his beskar and into his skin.

I. Trust. You.

After a moment, he turns back to his controls and stares into space.

If you’re being honest, you have no idea what you would choose. If you don’t go, the kid will keep being hunted and at risk. If you do go, that man could betray you and get you all killed.

Mando is in deep thought, as are you, and you jump a little when he starts punching coordinates into the controls.

“Sorgan? Why Sorgan?” you ask.

He turns to face back to you, and you can only imagine the cocky smirk he has on his face.

“An old friend.”

Tag list:

@leahkenobi @pinkninja200 @bookloverfilmoholic @farfromjustordinary

#din djarin #mando #din djarin imagine #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #din djarin fluff #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian

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another-tmnt-writer · 4 years ago

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Congested and Contested

Donnie x Reader

Author: Admin JemPrompt: Hello! May I request a Image where the reader, (Donnie’s GF), is sick but denies it until she gets her butt kicked by the guys at training, almost faints, then confesses she that she is ill and Donnie cares for her? Thank you!!

Note: I am under the weather a bit so this really made me feel all happy and wanting a turtle to take care of my sick college bumm.

Warnings: Being sick? Undereating? Close to fainting? Honestly pretty chill.

Word Count: 2.1K

When you woke up for the day you could immediately tell something was off. Your eyes were so heavy and it felt like someone had shoved cotton balls into your skull, and left some plugging your nose. You couldn’t breathe except through your mouth which was so dry that you could barely take a breath without feeling like each inhale was a barbed wire being pulled down your throat then back out again. You groaned when you found your limbs were jelly. Everything felt disjointed and heavy.

You forced yourself upright and could feel your nose alleviate some of the blockages before coming back full force with a new friend- a pounding headache. Oh just great. I love a double whammy. Not.

When you heard the knock on the door and the bright light of the hallway invade your senses, it felt like your head would explode.

“You’re up- good. We have breakfast ready.”

You squinted at the large figure in the doorway, seeing enough features to determine it to be Donnie, with his bo staff strapped to his back and glasses being adjusted by a three-fingered hand. He smiled as you just groaned.

“Can I just stay in bed today?” You croaked, placing your head in your hands and gave a sharp sniff, trying to breathe easier.

Donnie moved towards you quickly and sat next to you. He moved your hair from your face and placed his lips against your forehead. You sighed as his cooler lips came into contact with your overheated body.

“Sweetheart,” He pulled away, “you’re burning up.”

You pouted as he got up and began walking the space of the room and began mumbling to himself on what your symptoms were. You sighed. You knew he would work himself into a worried frenzy and work until he was able to get you better. He had already been in his lab so much trying to find Shredder and what he was planning, you couldn’t put more on him.

You shook your head, “Don’t worry, love, I’m fine.”

You pushed the blankets off of you, shivering as you crawled out of your warm cocoon. Your headache began again with a vengeance. Taking a moment to recuperate, you pretended to look around for a clean shirt, when in reality you didn’t want to drop to the floor.

Donnie remained on the bed watching you with a crease between his brows. He knew you weren’t feeling well. He knew how stubborn you were. He also knew if he pushed the issue too far you would go silent and walk around the lair anyways. As long as he kept an eye on you today, Donnie could help when you were ready to ask.

When you were finally dressed- who knew trying to put on a sports bra when sick could be so freaking difficult??- you shot Donnie a smile and took his hand before leading him from the room. Donnie kept your hand in his and kept himself close to you the whole way. You just shrugged and let him have his moment of being protective. You couldn’t handle an argument very well with your nose running a mile a minute and your brain trying to replicate a whole drumline in your skull.

As you walked into the kitchen you were hit by so much noise and chaos you debated on turning around right then and there. Mikey was blasting “Wap” from the speaker April had gotten him- the same woman who introduced him to TikTok- while tossing a pancake onto a plate periodically. Leo sat with a smile, occasionally mouthing the lyrics and bobbing his head with the beat. Raph had resorted to banging the cutlery on the table in an impromptu drum session and was catching a pancake as they flew past him. Splinter merely sat reading a novel as he cut his pancakes into precise pieces.

Donnie nudged you towards a chair next to Leo before grabbing the two of you some plates. As he set one down in front of you you saw that Leo had been staring at you.

“What’s up, Fearless?” you drawled.

He just smiled softly and passed you some orange juice.

YES! Vitamin D to help take away some of the grogginess. When you were younger your mom would always make you a grilled cheese sandwich with either tomato or chicken noodle soup with a glass of orange juice. She always said it would help cure three parts of a cold. The hunger, the frowns, and the sleepies. It always cheered you up and never failed to make you feel like a little girl again when you got orange juice or grilled cheese.

You nodded gratefully before filling the glass and taking a big gulp. The cool drink on your dry throat felt amazing and you could feel your headache abate a bit. Well until Mikey walked up to you and decided to scream, “HOT PANCAKES!” before plopping six on your plate.

Your eyes widened. You were a food lover for sure, but there was no way you were going to be able to eat all of those. You raised your eyes to see Donnie smiling softly as he put four from your plate onto his. You nodded in thanks and started to nibble on what was in front of you. You weren’t even that hungry but you knew that if you didn’t eat at all then you would drop halfway through the day from malnutrition. That wouldn’t help your case of not being sick.

The boys were done eating in record time while you struggled to eat even half of your food. They shot looks at each other while Donnie’s eyebrows furrowed at your attempts to finish off your plate.

“Love?”

You looked up to see 5 pairs of eyes on you. You chuckled, “Guess pancakes aren’t the move for me today. Sorry, Mikey.”

“It’s all good, sweetcheeks,” Mikey took your plate and began eating what was left, “You feeling okay?”

“Of course. Fit as a fiddle.” You bluffed.

Donnie shook his head at you and stole a glance at Splinter, who nodded back.

You narrowed your eyes at them. What on earth were they concocting?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were stuck on the side of the mat as the boys trained. Splinter would ignore your attempts to jump in to spar with the boys and passed over you on all the demonstrations. It was infuriating. You had been training for months with the boys, proving you could handle yourself despite your smaller size. A stupid cold wasn’t going to keep you from training. Raph had the flu and still got to fight and go on patrol, but you couldn’t even train? No way.

You looked onto the sparring mat to see Raph on the ground, pissed as usual that he hadn’t beaten the leader in blue. He ignored Leo’s hand and stood up by himself. Leo shook his head and went to where Splinter was working Mikey and Donnie through some movements.

You smirked. This was your chance.

Snagging some water you strode over to Raph. Sniffed before getting to close so he wouldn’t hear your breaths ratting as easily.

“Hey Red,” you offered the bottle to him.

He took it with clenched hands. “Hey Y/N. How ya feelin’?”

“Fine,” you said through clenched teeth.

Raph raised an eyebrow.

“wanna spar?” you shot out before he could begin to ask further about how you were doing. Honestly standing and talking was wiping you out and your head was pounding.

“Nah I can’t fight ya when you’re like this. I would-“

You cut him off. “Scared you’re gonna lose again? I’m sure Leo would be willing to spar- more of a challenge anyways.”

You turned around but paused when Raph grabbed your elbow and whipped you back around.

“Let’s go.” He growled. He tossed the water bottle to the edge of the mat before backing away to get into his stance. So predictable.

As you lowered yourself into a stance, he pounced at you. You had to duck and weave to avoid his offensive approach. You were hardly able to take in a breath and all the jumping around was making your head spin. Raph landed a blow to your shoulder and sent you back a good 2 feet. You could hardly breathe anymore. Your vision started to get darker spots on the edges of your vision. Raph stopped and called out for Donnie. You crouched down when you began to sway. Your breath came in shallow gasps and it felt like there was fog in your ears, your eyes, and your tongue felt so heavy.

“Y/N?” you felt a cool hand press itself to your clammy forehead. “Love, you’re burning up”

Just as your vision faded completely you managed to get out, “It’s cuz I’m so hot.” Then it went dark.

When you woke up later, it was very quiet except for the mild hum of a diffuser on the table next to you. As you tried to sit up you found there was something heavy on your head. You lifted your hand and removed the damp cloth from your forehead to see that you were in a cocoon of blankets, head propped up by a pillow. As you shifted, you saw that someone had changed you out of your sweaty clothes into a clean T-shirt. You sniffed it and determined it was Donnie’s because of how big it was on you and the light scent of motor grease. You sat up quickly and took another deep breath. You could smell again! You smiled and saw a glass of ice water on the table. You gulped it down quickly and sighed as the cool liquid soothed your dry throat.

The door cracked open and Donnie popped his head in. He smiled and opened the door further when he saw that you were awake. He carried a tray with a bowl and toast with him, which he sat on the table next to you. He placed his hand on your forehead.

“Hi love,” he took out a thermometer and turned it on, “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” you opened your mouth and he placed the device under your tongue.

“You scared me back there. Why didn’t you just let me take care of you earlier? You could’ve gotten seriously hurt.” He looked at you in concern. You knew you worried him and it wasn’t fair. But you don’t want to be the weak link in his family. He was always so strong and took care of everyone else. You wanted to show him you could be strong too.

Instead, you pointed to the thermometer in your mouth.

He chuckled and nodded. “I’ll wait.”

The thermometer beeped and Donnie read the temperature.

“99.7. Still a little high but better than before.” He said.

You looked down at your hands. “I’m sorry I worried you. I didn’t want to upset you.” You explained how you felt and Donnie remained quiet until you were finished. He pulled you into his arms and stroked your hair from your face.

“You are the strongest person I know, Y/N. You fight every day for us and you support me in so many ways. You always help patch up the boys after a patrol, staying up to help us talk through our problems. You always are so positive and push us to do better. You make me better every day and I am so grateful I get to have you in my life. You are so wonderful and giving and strong, it makes me want to be worthy of you.” He placed a kiss on top of your head. “You don’t need to be strong all the time. I am your partner and it’s my job to take care of you. I love getting to take care of you.”

You sniffled into his chest and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“thank you.”

“of course.”

You both sat there for some time, simply taking in the other's presence. It was quiet and peaceful. Well until your stomach grumbled.

“Hungry?” Donnie chuckled.

You nodded and took the bowl from him. Tomato soup and grilled cheese. Yes! You loved this turtle. You offered him a bite of the grilled cheese, then hunkered down into the blankets as he turned on Star Wars. He crawled in next to you. Wrapping his arm around your shoulders, your head against his chest, and your favorite movie marathon in front of you, you knew you could stay here forever. With Donnie, you were happy and content. Maybe having him take care of you wasn’t as bad as you thought.

#donnie x reader #donatello x reader #tmnt imagine #tmnt x reader #sick #fluff #tmnt fluff #tmnt #donatello imagine #tmnt Donnie #donnie imagine

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basicallywhiterice · 4 years ago

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on top of the world (dong sicheng/winwin)

pairing: sicheng/winwin x reader

genre: angst, fluff, flangst. friends to lovers, highschool!au, dancer!sicheng, spring break trip

summary: The fall to the ground doesn’t seem so daunting when you’re living on top of the world.

word count: 3.2k

warnings: cussing

a/n: if enough people get mad at me i’ll write a part 2

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

this can be read as a standalone, but it is part 1 in the on top of the world series. crossposted on ao3 here!

Chinatown, Washington, D.C., 7:01 p.m.

“Honest Abe? More like, honest babe,” Lucas hollers to Kun and no one in particular, drawing a few disgruntled looks from the pedestrians waiting for the walk signal to flash again. He winks at a man in a navy suit, who rolls his eyes and looks away. Yangyang reaches over for a high-five.

“Dude was 6′ 4″, of course he’s a babe,” Sicheng whistles, leaning behind Yangyang and craning his neck to steal glances at Kun’s phone.

To your right, Ningning flits around, snapping pictures of the street displays and assorted neon lights on the storefronts. You watch her alongside Giselle, who pops her bubblegum, periodically glancing at the traffic light at the bustling intersection. Standing shoulder to shoulder with you to your left, Kun rattles off a hodge-podge of facts about Abraham Lincoln and Ford’s Theatre, which you just passed by, from his phone screen to a faux-enthused Yangyang, who shakes Sicheng by the shoulders every time Kun reads a new fact. He occasionally gets pushed into Lucas’s side, rolling his eyes while doing little to hide the growing grin on his face.

“... and apparently they planned his assassination in the building the Wok n’ Roll restaurant we passed used to be,” Kun remarks.

“OH MY GOD SICHENG ISN’T THAT SO CRAZY?” Yangyang all but screams. “IT WAS IN THE WOK N’ ROLL!”

As you glance over fondly, your eyes linger on the orange hues and kaleidoscopic shadows the nearby “do not walk” signal spills over Sicheng’s face. After a moment, he looks away from Yangyang’s exaggerated bouncing. His gaze flits upwards, meeting your stolen glance with his own.

The world grinds to a halt beneath your feet when a strong gust of wind blows through your hair, propelling you into free fall into the depths of his eyes until Giselle tugs on your arm, pulling you back into the present.

She gestures toward the “walk” signal on the traffic light, and you fall in line with her quick footsteps as you stride across the crosswalk.

“We should go there later,” she suggests. “Try summoning Lincoln’s ghost or something.”

“The Wok n’ Roll?”

“Yeah. Do you think his ghost would have his top hat?”

“I thought ghosts were just spirits and didn’t take material possessions with them?”

“Yeah, but then every ghost would be naked, which would be hella inappropriate.”

Ningning overhears, skipping up to you and looping her arm through yours. “You have to prove the existence of ghosts and take them out to dinner before you get them naked, you pig.”

“I made yo momma sound like a ghost last night,” Lucas quips. “I skipped the ‘getting dinner’ part, though.”

“Goddamn,” Giselle exclaims as you burst into laughter, throwing jokes and jabs at each other for the rest of the trek to the ramen restaurant where you eat dinner.

Hilton Garden Inn, Washington, D.C., 9:13 p.m.

After helping Giselle and Ningning unpack, you knock on the communicating door between your hotel room and the boys’ in order to bother Kun.

Sicheng answers, moving aside so you can step across. Their room is surprisingly clean, although you chalk it up to the limited amount of time they had to unpack earlier today. Lucas sits at the desk in the corner near the window, hunched over his laptop while Yangyang peeks over his shoulder. You glimpse a few pictures of the Washington Monument on his screen before he scrolls down to other marble structures.

“Are you looking up other places to visit?” you ask him.

He glances up, cracking his neck before responding. “Yeah. I can’t find anything special that we don’t know about, though.”

“It’s boutta be lit,” Yanyang chimes in.

“Ayeee,” Lucas responds. They start aggressively patting each other on the back and arms, and you take that as your cue to leave before they wrestle you into whatever weird ritual they’re performing.

Turning, you see Sicheng flop down onto the bed closest to the windows where Kun lays, sprawled out. “Hey,” Kun greets, lifting his head from his pillows.

“Hey,” you reply, remembering the reason why you came to the room in the first place. “Oh yeah! I found a stop sign a few blocks from here on a decently busy street. It’ll take ten minutes to go there and back, tops.”

He groans. “I would love to go, but I just got a stomachache. Tell you what. Sicheng,” he says, propping himself up at a snail’s pace and clasping Sicheng’s shoulder, “you can accompany her there, right?”

“To a stop sign?” Sicheng asks, looking up from his phone.

“A hand-picked, top tier, magnificent stop sign,” you proclaim. “Whenever me and Kun travel, we always get a random passerby to take our picture in front of a stop sign like it’s a tourist attraction. Are you down for potential social awkwardness?”

The corner of Sicheng’s lips tugs up into a grin. “You know it. I’m not ruining your tradition with Kun, am I?” he asks, glancing sideways at Kun for confirmation.

Kun flops back down on the bed. “Nah. If I went right now, I’d probably ruin the tradition by shitting my pants there or something.”

Sicheng chuckles. “Promise? We could print out those pictures and mail them back to your parents like a postcard.”

“I like the way you think,” you say with a scheming smile, nodding at Sicheng before turning back to Kun. “Anyways, drink some warm water to help with your stomachache, maybe? What do you think caused it?”

He shrugs. “Not sure. Maybe I shouldn’t have eaten that trashcan pizza slice in the subway.” Sicheng reaches over and flicks his forehead. “Ow! I’m kidding! Why would you torment a sick man like this? Go away and take your pictures already.”

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” you ask as Sicheng asks, “You sure?”

“Yeah, don’t worry. Worst comes to worst, I’ll take a Pepto-Bismol in fifteen minutes. Go and have fun.” He waves you off, grabbing a spare pillow and lightly smacking Sicheng with it.

“Fine, mom.” Sicheng stands, pocketing his phone. “You ready? I just need to put on my shoes.”

“Yeah.” As he walks over to the closet, you sneak a peek at your reflection through your phone screen. Fighting back a sudden bundle of nerves, you discreetly smooth your t-shirt down, running a hand through your hair. Kun wiggles his eyebrows when he notices, and you flip him off, silently warning him to stay quiet.

He doesn’t. “Have fun on your date with loverboy,” he whispers.

“Shut up.”

“After you leave, should I check out the pool?” he murmurs. “Lucas and Yangyang said they don’t feel like swimming tonight.”

“What, isn’t your stomach—”

“Oh my, would you look at the time? Off you go!” He shoos you away, almost standing up to push you away and laying back down before Sicheng can turn around. You’re almost impressed by how well he set you up.

Still, though. If Kun weren’t your best friend, you’d shove him into the hotel’s fountain.

H Street Northwest, Washington D.C., 9:40 p.m.

Half an hour later, you give up on the facade of collecting anti-tourist pictures after the third stop sign, stopping by the Chinatown Express to grab a bowl of noodles with roast duck to go. You walk for a few blocks before finding a bench to sit and split it at, slurping them up in an appreciative silence.

“Oh my god,” Sicheng intones around a mouthful of noodles. When you look over, his cheeks are puffed, an empty spoon descending to rest inside the soup container.

“You look like one of those baby birds eating scraps,” you giggle.

“I’m certainly skilled with chicks,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows.

You roll your eyes, then scoot closer to pick up a piece of roast duck. Your knees touch, but neither of you move away. “Do you think there’s a more advanced form of life than humans, like aliens, and they view us how we view animals?” you ask, resuming the conversation you had about the meaning of life before you sat down. “Like we don’t think birds could become self-aware, no matter how intelligent they are, so then we can’t achieve the alien version of self-awareness no matter how philosophical we get.”

“Good question. Uh, alien self-awareness would probably relate to the meaning of life or something, right? Or the secrets of the universe and breaking the laws of physics. And because they’re so big brained, they could control things with their minds and be enlightened with telekinesis. So hypothetically, if I were a wise, sagely alien,” he says, gently picking up your hand and laying it flat against his palm, “I could make my hand pass through yours if I had enough brainpower.”

His hand is warm, and you hope furiously that your palms aren’t sweating. “Was this another excuse to hold my hand?”

“Well, did it work?”

You raise your eyebrows and fail at biting back your smile. “You already know, you just want to hear me say it.”

He grins. “Then say it!”

“Yes, Sicheng, it worked.”

“Awesome.” He moves his right hand to pick up his spoon, briefly tugging your hand with him until he realizes. “Fuck. Sorry, I have to let go of your hand while I eat. Unless you wanna see me struggle with my left hand.”

“As much as I’d love to watch you do that, I feel like that’d be an insult to the rest of the noodles.”

When you finally remember to stand up and throw away the long-forgotten remnants of your food, he holds your hand carefully but firmly as you walk past the White House, and you imagine his hold on your heart must feel the same.

Lafayette Square, Washington, D.C., 11:16 p.m.

“Dance with me,” Sicheng pleads, pulling you under a streetlight. You nod, but your feet stay cemented on the brick-paved sidewalk.

“I don’t know how to.”

“That’s fine.” You place your hand in his outstretched one, and he lifts your other hand to rest on his shoulder. “No one’s around to judge, so just do whatever.”

“Wise words,” you deadpan, but you let his hand on your waist guide your swaying.

He’s right, though. After the initial awkwardness fades, you find that waltzing around isn’t so bad after all—especially when he twirls you around the pocket of light underneath the lamppost so gently it feels like you’re dancing on air.

And when he dips you as you throw your head back, laughing, you think you finally understand why his eyes light up every time he finishes a dance performance.

“Is this what you love about dancing?” you ask once you’ve come back up.

He nods, eyes closing briefly. “Partly. The grand choreographies are the showstoppers, but the simpler moments keep me sane.” His eyes flutter open. “I haven’t let anyone see me dance with such bad technique in a while. I’m usually not this bad, I promise.”

“I know,” you grin. “I saw you at the winter showcase. You were amazing.” Then you take a deep breath, and brace for the worst. “The lyrical piece you closed with was the one you used for your audition, right?”

“Yeah, I—yeah.”

Abruptly, he releases your hands and steps back. You allow yourself to feel a twinge of guilt for mentioning the elephant in the room before you steel yourself for the impending conversation.

“We should probably talk about that,” he says.

“We should. Do you want to walk around the National Mall? You said you liked it earlier today.”

“Sure.”

The walk is quiet enough for you to overthink. Sicheng got accepted by a dance studio in Korea, after months of submitting auditions and traveling back and forth between countries. He’s leaving soon, even if he says he’s still waiting to hear back from Juilliard and keeping his options open. You see it in the goodbyes he keeps subconsciously saying and the memories he drinks in like it’s his last chance to, and you’re terrified of what your life will look like without him.

You glance over at him periodically, and he seems to be lost in thought too, staring straight ahead down the well-lit path. His eyebrows furrow as you pass under a streetlight, and you wonder if you brought it up the wrong way.

You’re disappointed in the crude way you shoved the future into a perfectly happy moment, then mad that you’re disappointed. It was inevitable that you’d have to talk about what would come after graduation, and it was inevitable that he’d have to remove himself from your side to chase after his dreams. It’s a wonder he hasn’t pulled away already.

Stupid, you chide yourself. Stupid, stupid, stupid, loving so hard that your chest implodes from all the weight it carries, already drifting through the pangs of hurt and the wisps of melancholy bringing about a premature nostalgia.

“I’m really going to miss you next year,” Sicheng confesses out of the blue.

You glance up. His hands are shoved into his pants pockets, his eyes roaming over your face like he’s trying to remember all the secrets it hides.

You think you might always run back to him. You’re not sure how to feel about that.

National Mall, Washington, D.C., 11:33 p.m.

“So.”

“So,” you echo. “Have you looked at decisions yet?” It’s a pointless question. You know he’s not going to Juilliard.

“Yeah, I looked at them this afternoon in the theater.” He clears his throat. “I got waitlisted.”

“Ah.”

“I’m not going to accept a spot on the waitlist.”

“Why not?”

He shrugs. “I had made my decision anyway.” Then he sighs, his nonchalant facade dropping for good. “You can probably guess.”

“You’re leaving?”

“I’m accepting the studio’s offer,” he whispers, as if the air is glass and the moment could shatter at any moment. The words float there, above your head, and you imagine grabbing them and hugging them close to your chest before they slip away.

You don’t. “I figured.”

“Yeah. You knew.”

You stare ahead and will the tears not to fall.

“I’m leaving as soon as school ends,” he says, with the sideways glance that marks the start of his rambling distraction process, “and flying there on—”

“I’m gonna miss you,” you blurt. He pauses mid-sentence. “I’m gonna miss you like crazy. Can we talk about this, for real? You can tell me all the details later, I just—please,” and your voice cracks, “don’t dismiss this.”

“Yeah. Of course.”

A blink, and the first teardrop traces its way down your face.

You waste away the hours of your stolen youth with a boy who wipes your tears away and comforts you over the future that you’ll no longer be a part of.

National Mall, Washington, D.C., 11:57 p.m.

“Before I leave,” Sicheng says, scuffing the heels of his shoes on the gravel pathway, “I know I’d regret it if I didn’t say something. I mean, I’m going to leave anyways, so why not, you know? I have to say something before I’m gone. Um, so, you know this by now, but I… I—” and you already know what’s coming.

“Stop. I know what you’re going to say. Give me a minute to think.”

You make the mistake of glancing up at him, his eyes wide and shining. “Yeah. Alright. Take all the time you need, please.”

In half a year, Sicheng will be gone and you will be left to pick up the pieces of your life that don’t involve him, piecing them together the best you can and carrying on like there isn’t a hole in your heart.

“I’m in love with you.” One thud of your heartbeat. Then another. “Sicheng.”

In half a year, this chance will be long gone, and if you let it slip through your fingers without grabbing on, you’ll never forgive yourself for letting Sicheng become your biggest what-if.

“I’m in love with you too.” He raises his hand to cradle your face in his palm. “Y/n.”

“I’ve wanted to say that for a while now.”

“Me too. It’s not just because I’m leaving, you know.” You nod, his palm momentarily pressing against your cheek. “You knew.”

“Yeah.”

You stare up at him, the boy who wears his heart on his sleeve and holds entire galaxies in his eyes.

“What are we?” he asks.

“I don’t know.”

“How do you feel about dating?”

You freeze like a deer in headlights. “Dating?”

“Yeah, would you? Like to date me?”

And then Sicheng turns into a what-if again. “I don’t know,” you confess. “I don’t know if I could handle the split.”

“We don’t have to break up when I leave. We could do long distance,” he suggests, but it sounds flimsy even to your ears.

“I don’t know, Sicheng. I don’t want to end up losing you.”

“I know. We don’t have to, especially if you don’t want to.”

You nod once in acknowledgment, and then you’re stepping into his arms again. He holds you securely, stroking your hair and waiting for you to collect your thoughts.

“I wish we had more time,” you whisper into his shoulder an eternity later. “Could we have been doing this earlier?”

“It would’ve been too fast,” he reasons, and you’re inclined to agree. “We didn’t really… not until this year…”

“Yeah.” You’ve known Sicheng for years and have been close with him for months, but you only fell in love with each other when it was too late. “I wish we started hanging out sooner.”

“Maybe things wouldn’t have turned out this way.”

“Maybe.”

You pull back enough to glance up at him, gaze dropping to his lips at the close proximity before immediately bringing it back up. His eyes follow the movement, a smile creeping up his face.

“One kiss wouldn’t hurt, right?” he asks, and he says it so earnestly that it’s hard to believe he’d be wrong.

“It wouldn’t,” you agree. His nose bumps with yours and you blink up at him once, twice, and then you’re leaning in until the faraway sounds of the city fade away. He’s purposeful and patient and when all you can think of is the brush of his lips against yours, it’s just you and him against the world.

One kiss might not hurt, but one turns to two and two turns to too many and when you finally pull away and stare into his eyes, dazed, your lips tingle from the ghost of his mouth on yours.

At that moment, the way his mouth slowly stretches into a grin does something to your heart, and you think you’d let it break a million times just to be the cause of his smile.

“Yes, Sicheng. Let’s date.”

He kisses you again, beaming so wide that his teeth knock against your lips and pulling you closer, almost picking you up in the process.

You wonder if you made the wrong decision.

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ajbwasntwriting · 4 years ago

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Daughter!Reader X Negan, Reader x Daryl: Chapter 1. Darling Princess

After the sneak peak tested well I decided to post the first chapter. I have many more already written and in the making but I’ll only post them if this gets a good reaction so please if you enjoy this please heart it, reblog it, and/or reply to it. Interaction inspires.

Sucking on another cigarette the stale tobacco burned your throat in a way you would’ve been disgusted by years ago. You looked out your window down at the gate, walkers pulling at it to try and get in. It had been a couple of years since Negan took power and more than long enough for you to feel trapped. You held the smoke in your lungs, a small part of your brain wishing it would ignite inside you and let you combust, before letting it out slow and smooth. Luxuries like this were meant to last. Another luxury was the leather loveseat you were sitting on, and the black and blue mosaic coffee table your feet and ashtray were on, and the acoustic gibson on your lap.

You placed the smoke between your lips to free your hand so you could strum the strings. You were playing an old rock balled your old man had taught you what felt like a life-time ago. He didn’t teach you to play guitar but when you came back from scouts playing campfire songs he insisted on teaching you some real music. You thought back on how many of his guitar strings you broke before that Christmas he bought you your own Washburn. The strings seemed to break less when the instrument was more your size. Those memories felt so distant now. As if they belonged to another person or were part of a movie you watched. The lyrics of the tune you were playing were on the cusp of coming back to you when your door opened violently somewhere behind you.

“My dearest daughter” Negan spoke as he entered your private room. You likened his new way of talking to that of a TV presenter. Always having to keep people on their toes. You used to think it funny when you were a kid but it wasn’t part of his personality then. “What are you doing here? Dinner was half an hour ago.”

“I’m not hungry” you shot back not even turning to face him, which would have been easy since the chair sat with its side to the window, but the walkers chewing on the fence were far more interesting.

“Y/N, don’t lie to me. You said the same at breakfast.” He sauntered over. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Lucille wasn’t with him.

“Food I didn’t earn doesn’t sate my appetite” you shot back, leaning forward to put out your smoke in the ashtray. That must have stirred something within him because the next thing you know you were grabbed by your arm and dragged out of your room, the guitar hitting the ground with a sorry sound. You let him drag you without protest, knowing better.

You were pulled into a plush dining room, immaculately furnished with white cushioned chair and a long oak table, set with silver cutlery. There were five sets in total for you, your father, and three of his ‘wives’. You figured this was some sort of ‘happy family’ play he’d act out but you didn’t know who the viewer was. You? The wives? The men? Or maybe knowing you didn’t want to be here was entertainment enough.

You were shoved into a chair next to the head of the table across from Frankie. She looked comfortable while nursing her drink but you reckoned that wasn’t her first. In front of her sat a bottle of vodka, distilled on-site by worker number 12. Fat Joey was filling the bowls with soup when your father shoved your chair in. He plopped himself into the chair next to you at the head of the table.

“Now isn’t this nice. A big happy family dinner before your old man takes off tomorrow.” You didn’t dignify him with a reply, instead motioning to the bottle of vodka in front of you.

“May I have some, Frankie?” she looked at the bottle then smiled at you

“Go ahead, Princess”. You picked up the bottle and filled your glass half-way to spite her for that nickname.

“Thank you” you tried to be civil, as badly as you wanted to just walk off with the bottle, you sipped your glass instead.

You silently started the soup. The veggies were cut into large pieces. Perfect, chewing gave you a reason not to talk to the dickhead to your left. Your eyes were too buried in your soup to see the other two wives staring at you and your father who was boring holes into your head with his eyes.

“How was your day, Y/N?” Tanya perked up

“Same as yours” you replied with a mouth full of carrot and potato

Silence

“Where are you going tomorrow Negan?” Nicolle added.

“Ladies.” Your father spoke out, his tone showing his distinct lack of patience. “I’m not an idiot. I can tell that our darling daughter doesn’t want to share our company.”

“I made that obvious in my room.” Your spoon fell gracelessly into your bowl. “Why am I here?!”

He reached over and rubbed your cheek affectionately. “Because I love you. And!” he punctuated the final word by raising a finger in front of your face, a silent cue to wait. He stood up from his chair and took off out of the room and down the hall. You took this moment to talk to his wives.

“You don’t have to be nice to me,” you said before starting to shovel soup into your mouth.

“Like hell, we don't.” Frankie retorted, earning a short child from one of the others. You chuckled and swallowed the food in your mouth. You picked up your glass and gestured it at Frankie

“Take notes, Ladies. Frankie doesn’t try bullshit on me” Frankie gestured her glass back. You guessed she’d been in a similar situation, forced to get along with people because it was easier. She didn’t try to be your friend because you knew you wouldn’t appreciate it, which in a weird turn of events you appreciated.

Your father arrived back. It was now you noticed he was a lot cleaner than usual, even the signature leather jacket had left him. Now you were alarmed. In his hands was a pink box with a purple bow. He placed it in front of you and kissed the top of your head. “Happy Birthday, Y/N.”

“Is it my birthday?” you asked, not quite sure. Time had become a blur since the end of the world. You pushed your bowl away to bring the box in front of you.

“Give or take a few months. I know I’ve missed a couple what with...everything...so this will count for at least one of them.” He placed a hand on your shoulder giving it a little squeeze, your own hand finding its way on top “There’s a lot more gifts coming for my princess, don't you worry.” You couldn’t help the smile that came to you, giggling slightly. You looked up at him, seeing nothing but unconditional love being sent back your way

“Dad, it’s alright.” You smiled and turned back to your gift. The wives were now watching, captivated by this little bit of humanity at the end of it all. You gingerly opened the bow and lifted the lid off.

Inside lay a military knife, clearly hand-made on-site with a beautiful leather handle and your name carved into the side in cursive. You released a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding. You picked it up, finding it fits in your hand perfectly.

“It’s beautiful” you near-whispered, watching as the candle lights hit against the metal. In a moment it was lodged in the table a mere inch from Tanya’s hand. You kicked back your chair, making your father step back, and grabbed the vodka bottle in one motion. “Now if only I had a reason to fucking use it” you spat as you stormed out of the room.

Back in your room, you sat in the corner with your head against the cold-glass window, looking down at the dead, only illuminated by the moon. You had killed so many of them before arriving at Sanctuary. Hell, you’d say you saved your old man’s ass more than he saved you...but he was a people’s person. Ruthless. But a people’s person. ‘Let me do my thing and I’ll have these assholes sucking my dick in days’.

That was a different age. Back when your father was a teacher. Back when your mother was sick. Back when your father cheated on her with anything with a pulse and she took it out on you. Back when your mother’s treatment and your father’s lifestyle drained your college fund and you had to enlist. Back when she’d attack you, both emotionally and physically, and you took it cause you knew she was in pain. Back when you had come home from a 16-month mission because her condition had worsened. Back when the world went to shit. Back when you had to put her down because your sleazeball of a father wasn’t man enough to do it. You looked down at the dead and thought, if you reached your hands through the wires...you could be back with your mom.

Your door opened slowly, heavy footsteps coming your way. There was no need to look. Only one person would enter your room without knocking. “You scared Tanya back there, Princess.” your father spoke in a low voice.

“She can take it” you croaked, a clear sign you had been crying. He kneeled down beside you. In the reflection of the window, you could see him holding out the knife.

“Please take it.” You turned around, your back now pressed to the window.

“Why?”

“You need to be able to protect yourself”

“Give me a gun then”

“No.”

“Why? Scared I’d leave.” You took a swig of your drink.

“I see you’re upset-”

“Do you?! Do you really?” you cut him short, stumbling to your feet using the window to push yourself up. “Why am I upset? Because I eat food I don’t deserve? Because you make people die for me? Because you have me trapped in a fucking tower like Repunzel or some shit!?” That earned a chuckle from him, which only served to piss you off. “I should be down there earning my bit just like everyone else.”

“Do we have to go over this again?” He sighed dramatically. He cupped your face, the knife now dangerously close to you. “You're my daughter Y/N. My darling baby girl. My precious princess”

“I was twenty-six when this shit hit, dad” you mumbled through your squished cheeks. He gave them a little loving slap.

“You're valuable to me, which means some people might want to hurt you. You eat to stay alive, people die because they’re stupid, and you live in this room on this floor so you can be kept safe.” you blew him off with a wave of your hand and an angry sigh. You pushed passed him to your bed, twirling to sit on it and start taking off your combat boots. He walked over and lodged the knife in your headboard before kneeling down to look up at you. “I have to go out for a while. Find this Rick Grimes asshole and get some payback for the fifteen men he killed at our outpost.”

A chill went up your spine “The one near the hilltop settlement” you whispered.

“That’s right.” You looked him in the eye, not noticing how your lip quivered.

“You don’t have too.” you didn’t know if it was the booze or genuine worry for human life but you found yourself begging. “We have more than enough peo-” he shushed you soothingly, his hand coming up to your cheek, rubbing soothing circles.

“Oh but you know I have too, and while I’m gone I don’t want anyone to get ideas on what they can do to you so” he nodded towards the knife. You pulled it out of the wall, looking it over before nodding, mouthing ‘okay’ and depositing it in your nightstand table. He kissed your forehead before leaving, wishing you a good night. Once again alone you took two large gulps of your drink and laid down.

Edit: For creative reasons Y/N is now 26 at the beginning of the apocalypse instead of the original 24

#daughter x negan #daughter reader #daughter reader x negan #twd negan #the walking dead negan #the walking dead #twd #twd reader insert #twd imagine #twd y/n #the walking dead fanfic #the walking dead fanfiction #twd fanfic #twd fanfiction #the walking dead tv #twd tv #slowburn #AJ's Negan's Daughter AU

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theobxhummingbird · 4 years ago

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WHO YOUR LIPS KISSED. -JJ MAYBANK X READER

Summary: A letter to JJ, makes him understand what he lost and what he’ll mostly regret.

A/N: Here’s another JJ x Reader I wrote. It’s emotional...too emotional.

The tip of her shoes, hit the wooden doorstep. Her shaking hand refuses to form a fist and knock on the door; a white envelope squeezed in it. Rather, she kneels down, and leaves it on the doorstep. Taking a last look, at the place of many wonderful, and many miserable moments, her back turns to the small house. As if she's held by chains, her steps are slow and heavy, somehow the house keeping her from leaving. Her head unglued from the ground, coming face to face with her blonde friend, who's been waiting for her next to the old Volkswagen. -It was for the both of your best. -said Sarah, rubbing her back. Y/N's feet were glued to the dusty ground, keeping her from making any other move. She knew that her step out of the Chateau, was another step to ending everything; to killing the Y/N she became long time ago. There were no tears in her eyes; all of them wasted too many nights. Her look turned to Sarah, getting a short, sad smile from her, gesturing Y/N to walk out of the place. She followed; she followed with a heavy heart. Maybe, it wasn't something she looked up to when expressing her feelings and leading the relationship with her heart, absolutely ignoring her brain, but it was something she expected to come one day. Sarah was there with her, to give any support at any time; promising not to tell John B anything. Y/N's house came in sight. Giving a hug to Sarah, and thanking her for being there, she unlocked the door, to reveal her mother, laid on the couch. -Hi. -she said softly, barely any sound coming out of her mouth. Bruised eyes, white and chapped lips and a pale face. She's been battling them for years and the clock was ticking on the wall. The remaining time, marked on the calendar. -Hi, mum, how are you feeling today?- she knelt next to her, fixing the blanket and pulling it up closer to her chin. -Better...and a bit cold. -I'll turn on the heating now, wait. -she jumped from the position and turned the heating, taking off her jacket and placing it on the chair. The house was cold and she had to do something to warm her mother, so a soup was the first thing that came to her head. Proceeding through the cabinets, to find the right pot, she filled it with water and made her mother the soup she's been making her when sick, since childhood. Putting a bowl of soup and a spoon, and also cutting half a lemon; Y/N brought everything on a tray to the living room. -Look at you...you'll take care of me like I did when you were young. -Yes. And it always made me better, that's why I'll give it a try now and take your place for a bit, so you could feel better. -said Y/N, fixing her mum's positing, so she's leaned on the pillow. -You did a great job on the soup, butterfly. -said her mum, slurping the soup, Y/N gave to her. -But, you don't have to feed me, I can do it myself. -I'll put some lemon as well. -she took the lemon, and squeezed it with the spoon. -Where were you? -I-I went with Sarah, she needed to get something done. -I thought-Y/N cut in with another spoon of soup. -Let's not talk while you're eating, it's a rule you used to always tell me. -Okay then. After her mother finished her soup, and fell asleep, Y/N sat at the table with a cup of tea in front of her. The small window that overlooked at their garden was too interesting to her. Her eyes moved with the design on the curtain; totally lost in her thoughts. The white papers were on the other side of the table, reminding her of the amounts of time she crumbled them and threw them away, before getting the right words on them. It was a painful moment of freedom and curiosity. Curiosity, because she wanted to know, why'd she have to be the one to write such a letter, to the person she'd barely every put herself in a position of letting go? She craved an answer, but couldn't find it.

John B and JJ fell asleep at the Chateau; worn out of the surfing and swimming the Pogues did that day. Kie and Pope were home. And even though Kie and Y/N were close friends, she only chose Sarah to come with her and be aware of what's going on; knowing she's the only one that won't hint it to the others. But, Kie, Pope and John B weren't the only ones that didn't know; JJ took the letter in confusion, getting excited at the name of his beloved girl. -What's that? -said John B, peeking over JJ's shoulder and sitting on one of the porch couches. -It's from Y/N, she wrote me a letter I guess. -said JJ, taking a seat opposite John B. He ripped the envelope open and took the folded piece of paper. There was a lot of writing:

" Dear JJ, the days folded into a whole year. A whole year, of many moments together. And as every day ended, my happiness and joy grew bigger, knowing I'll see you the next and then the next. At the start, everything went in a way I didn't even think of. You made me feel like the most loved person in the world and gave me more attention and time than I deserved. I was thankful; thankful for the things you did for me. I prayed the whole journey, for our relationship to last as it started; full of adventures together and days I'll never forget. You told me you loved me every day and how thankful you were to have me in your life. You looked at me with adornment in your eyes. And, when you thought I was asleep, while you muttered beautiful words to me, I was quietly listening to you; taking in every word and hiding it in my heart. But...just as I thought we'd form a forever, as every day ended, I was full of pain, instead of happiness and joy. You weren't there to treat my wounds; they crusted with your absence. The place on my bed was cold and dry; telling me the lack of your presence. Instead, it was full of tears; puddles of tears. Every night, I was thinking about who your heart started to love and also thought about asking you; but I had no strength to do it. It was never enough of what I told you for me; I had a person slowly fading in my life and didn't want to have another one, so I kept you next to me. I counted the stranger's scent on your clothes, messy hair, all the notes of numbers in your pockets, as my own blindness. And had no bravery to ask you who your lips kissed, praying it was only me. From those moments, I knew nothing was enough; your many kisses shortened, as well as your time spent with me; your hugs were long gone; but mostly you...I hadn't had enough of you. And let me answer all your questions. When you asked me why I distanced myself sometimes; it was because I knew why your excitement to see me, was expressed by cuddling me and kissing me. Also, when you asked me why I didn't return to your calls; it was because of the amounts of times I called before, that your phone was busy. And even if there was someone, I counted them as no one, hoping there's really no one that could get your phone too busy, as well as your room at John B's. So, please don't make me tired anymore, JJ. The amounts of times I fell and got up, this time I'm stuck to the ground and can't breathe anymore. I know you can't relate to me right now, and don't pity your feelings...I'll count them as nothing. But...I'll always count my love for you. I ignored all your mistakes, rough words and craziness, willingly. And those abysses I went to blindly, I'll ignore them too, as well as a whole wasted year. But please, for god's sake, don't create me more pain. Let the both of us go our own ways, because this doesn't work when we're together. I'll still remain the Y/N you met that day, and remember me as her, please. If you want to crumble and throw away this letter; do it. But know that all the words will stay in your head. Thank you for your time and love. And please don't come to my house...please. See you someday in the future. Sincerely, Y/N Y/L/N." The letter landed on the wooden floor of the porch, followed by a few tears. John B was confusingly looking at his friend, -What happened, dude? -It-it's over, John B. Y/N and I...we're no more. John B picked up the letter, his eyes moving through the rows of words. His face dropped from shock; eyes widened at his broken friend. -What happened to her? She seemed so happy yesterday. -She faked it. The whole time, she faked it. Y/N wasn't happy, she just didn't hint her pain to me. JJ walked back and forth, the floor squeaking under his feet. His hands were tightly tugging his blonde hair, as hot tears rolled down his face, -I messed up everything...I lost Y/N. -JJ...-John B was speechless, calling Y/N's number, but there was no answer. JJ's figure still couldn't shake off the stress and shock; just tears fallind down his face. He curled up in a ball on the floor, crying in his knees and swinging back and forth.

It passed a whole month of their absence at John B's; neither JJ was coming to ride with the Pogues of the HMS Pogue. Y/N normally worked in her life, taking care of her mother. There was no space for crying or closing herself in her room. Pope came a few times to visit her at work; feeling the need to be there for his friend, even though he knew her less than he knew JJ. Kie tried to take her out in town and distract her from the sadness, but it just didn't work; Sarah had the ability to do that more than Kie. Since, even though she didn't know it, Y/N couldn't have Kie next to her, knowing the big crush JJ had on her. It wasn't Kie's fault, Y/N just couldn't get distracted from her pain by talking to Kie. But one day, she came for something else. -Here's your invitation to my birthday party. -said Kie, sliding the invitation Y/N's way, -I'm looking forward to seeing you at the Wreck. -I'll try to come, Kie. -Okay, but try please. See you then, bye. With that, she left Y/N's work place. That happy and loved by everybody, Kiara Carrera. Sometimes she understood why JJ still might have a crush on her; the girl was smart and pretty.

The day of Kie's birthday came and Y/N was busy with taking care of her mother, when someone knocked on the door. -Are you read- said Sarah, looking at Y/N, who was dressed in sweatpants, a t-shirt and her hair up in a messy bun. -When are you going to get ready? -For what? Ow, it was Kie's birthday, wasn't it? I can't come, Sarah. -said Y/N, keeping the door as close to her as possible, so Sarah doesn't take a peek inside. -Y/N you bought a present and said you'll come. Come on. You can avoid JJ all night if you want to, but Kie's our friend. -Fine...then I'll go and get ready, you, stay here, outside, please. Sarah was confused of why'd she rushed so much about her staying outside, by closing the door and the curtain of the living room window. She followed her friend's words and waited at the porch, observing the flowers Y/N took care of, even though she worked too hard. But, when she heard a voice from inside, calling for help, she swung open the door. A woman was laid on the floor, trying to reach for the coffee table for support. -Aunt, wait. -she said, jogging her way and slowly lifting her up. Sarah placed Y/N's mum on the couch and threw the blanket over her body, -Did you want something? -Just a glass of water. -Here. -Sarah handed her a glass full of water Y/N had placed on the coffee table. -Mum, I'll go to Kie's birthday and get back immediately, please sleep a bit, before I...- said Y/N, walking in the living room and stopping when Sarah's worried face comes in her sight, -come back. -Okay butterfly, don't worry about me. Enjoy the party.

Sarah was quiet the whole walk to Kie's birthday, as well as Y/N. She knew Sarah wanted to ask her everything and could explode of curiosity in any minute, so she decided to tell her what's going on in her life, that she doesn't know about. And why'd she never let them come to her house, when her mother wasn't at the hospital. -My mum's sick, Sarah. That's why I made you stay at the porch while I get ready. And I'm sorry I didn't tell any of you about my mum's sickness. -Y/N why? We would've helped you, you know that. -Yes, because I knew that, and that’s why I didn't tell you. My mum and I are no one's worry. And whatever I had to do about her getting well, I was going to do it alone. -I'm sorry Y/N. -Sarah gave her a side hug and the both of them entered the Wreck. They hugged Kie, giving her the presents.

It was a big party, with many people from her dad's business and a lot of the Kooks. Sarah sometimes excused herself, to go to John B. Even Y/N made her go, feeling uncomfortable to have her be at the table, when she could spend some time with her boyfriend. Y/N was now alone at the table and at her unluckiness, Rafe, Topper and Kelce stood around her table. -Why are you alone? -said Topper, and evil smile spreading on his face. -Sarah went to John B a bit, I'm waiting for her. Plus, loneliness makes me feel better. -she gave the three of them a polite smile. Their evil smirks, softed into sad smiles; there was no harm in her and would resist to create any to her. Somehow, those three, who are known to hit on girls at parties, quietly walked away from her table. Her eyes looked around the room and glanced at the well-known blonde. He was already looking at her. His figure turned towards her and unknowingly his feet brought him to her table. -Hi. -he said awkwardly. -Hi. -How are you? -I'm okay, how are you? -I'm doing fine. Y/N speechlessly nodded her head and played with the decorations, just to avoid any eye contact with JJ. -Haven't seen you in a long time... -Yes, it's been...uh...a long- -One month, Y/N...I counted. -One month? -she acted as if she's not aware of the number. JJ nodded, his face falling into a thousand pieces. -I don't know; didn't really have the time to count. -I did. I sat down and counted every second even. -Please...it's Kie's birthday. -I'll say what's in my heart and go, Y/N. -Don't! -she raised her voice a bit, -You don't have to. There's no words left in me, so I can't respond to it...please. Just when she was about to walk away from the table, her phone rang. It was an unknown number. -Hello?...Yes, that's me...What? I'm coming now. Her shaking hands put the phone in her pocket. Taking her bag, she rushed her way out the Wreck, trying to find a taxi that might pass next to the restaurant. Tears were streaming down her face. -Hop in the car. -said JJ, going around the jeep and sitting at the driver's seat. If she wasn't in a rush, she wouldn't even step in it, but it was the only choice she had at the moment. -Where are we going? -To the hospital. Please, be fast. -she said, playing with her hands and looking at the time.

-Mum?...-she said, putting her hand on the glass; her mum's sleeping figure on the other side of it. -I'm sorry....mum. -She called the hospital somehow, but when the team came she was on the floor. -said the doctor from behind Y/N. JJ had no idea what was going on. He looked at Y/N, the doctor and the person laying on the hospital bed with full confusion. -Don't worry. The sickness is getting to minimal amounts and as her body's fighting against it, she can't take too much, so she faints. It'll happen, but really, don't worry. Settle her on the bed and when she opens her eyes, a glass of water's enough. I hope she'll get better soon. -Thank you doctor. -said Y/N shaking hands with him. She sat down on the chair, rubbing her face. -I didn't know your mother was- -Because I didn't tell you,JJ. The name rang in his head. It was different when she told it and he's been missing her voice for a whole month. -I'm sorry. -It's fine... -she said and got up, to see her mother.

It's been a whole week from Kie's birthday and everyone came to visit Y/N's mum. She felt so uncomfortable having each of them appear at her house. That was also the reason why she never told them about her mother's sickness. Her mother though, got better. She started to heal from her sickness, and her face got a different tint of life. She was now able to walk, work in the garden and house, without too much tiring. -Who brought these? -said Y/N, looking at the presents on the table. -JJ brought them. -said her mother, washing the dishes in the kitchen. -There's a letter for you inside one of them. Y/N proceeded through the bags, taking out an envelope with her and JJ's name on it.

"Dear Y/N, you wrote me a letter and I guess it's up to me now. I've never written a letter to anyone, so I won't have the same word style as you. Also, I'll be very direct. I love you, Y/N, even though it now seems so fake to you; I love you...so much. I've been thinking about you since the day I got the letter. The only way you'll get to hear my sorry is through this letter...so I'm sorry...and I know it sounds so raw and dry, but I am sorry from the bottom of my heart. In my life, I never had someone who cared about me and I thought you'll leave like everyone else. So, the only escape from your constant love was spending time with other girls, even though I still had you in mind while kissing them. And, whenever I looked at their faces and realized it's not you and they can never be you, I excitedly walked to you, knowing your warmth and love. I remembered it; Y/N's warmth could never be replaced. I messed up my life, my whole life and have no idea how to fix it. A few days after you left the letter, drinking was the only escape from the pain. But, when one night I drank too much, your words came to my head: "Drinking is never a solution." And I stopped; throwing the glass bottle on the grass, shattering it to pieces. This wasn't the JJ that changed because of you; this wasn't the JJ you loved. This was JJ that tried to escape from life. Losing both you and now my friends. John B doesn't talk to me, because I started drinking and smoking badly. Pope hasn't been at the Chateau for a long time. Kie has her own life. Sarah didn't even talk to me long before you left the letter; now I understand why. And you...you are long gone from my life.

I'm going Y/N. Finally leaving the Outer Banks. I guess this is the only escape that's right, rather than kissing girls because I'm too in love with my girl. And like you always say: "Cheating has no reasons." You're right. I have the whole fault. And I can't do anything about it. So, leaving is the only option. I respect whatever you decide in your life. Know that I'm deadly in love with you and I'll always be. See you in the future, princess. You have my heart, always.

I love you, JJ"

Without thinking twice, she was out the door. Running as fast as possible, to reach JJ before he goes away forever, she arrived at the dock. He was loading the boat and untying the rope. -Wait! -she yelled behind him. Her feet hit the wet grass and made their way to JJ. His surprised look turned to the familiar voice, and just when he was about to say anything, Y/N ran and connected her lips to his. Everything, from her anger to her pain and love, was relieved into the deep kiss. Her hands were tightly cupping his face, as his arms hugged her body closer to his. Longing for both of each other's touch, Y/N nuzzled her nose in the crook of his neck, taking in the scent of JJ; that salt water and sunscreen mix. She relaxed at his smell, feeling the heat of the sun that warmed his body all day. -Don't you ever make me relive every moment that had you escape from me, ever. -she said, squeezing his body. -I'll never do that, ever again, I promise you Y/N. I love you so much, princess. -Please, don't leave. -I won't. I'll stay with you forever. -I love you, JJ Maybank. -I love you, Y/N Y/L/N. Carved on a piece of wood was a sentence: "All the ways, lead to you."

#jj maybank x reader #jjxy/n #outer banks fan fiction #jj maybank obx #jj maybank #y/n y/l/n #fan fictions #theobxhummingbird #outer banks #john booker routledge #sarah cameron #kiara carrera #pope hayward

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aka-indulgence · 5 years ago

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Nighttime Surprise

Not exactly a ‘usual’ stress-relief, but also.. yes? Not in the usual sense, though I may have self projected. Maybe. Something I wrote that wouldn’t strain my one month unused writing muscles... And enjoy it too

Summary: You don’t know what your relationship with (HT!)Sans is. Just that it’s close and intimate... And it’s going to get much more so when you suddenly find the guy in front of your shoebox apartment door.

It was night. You were tired. And having a heavy case of the tension headaches.

You were feeling thoroughly like a piece of garbage. You hadn’t done anything today.

You had called in sick, when you were thinking to do so many of those “adult responsibility things”. Like going to the bank before your work started, and going to to the party after the work that your colleague was having. It wasn’t a party really- just that friends had invited to go drinking at a bar. You weren’t that big of a drinker- maybe just drinking on celebratory nights or when you were invited, never looking for it on your own.

But when you woke up to feel that grogginess in your eyes, the chills and slight shivers when you shifted around in your bed, the tenderness of your muscles and the fact you felt too hot when you had the blanket over you, but started getting more chills when you took it off- You’re sure if you didn’t get proper rest, you’d get a fever, and you didn’t want that.

Forcing yourself to work won’t solve anything.

You sighed as you watched the clock tick, getting past midnight.

You groaned.

Why… Were you… Still awake?

You may have heard enough medical advice to tell you about things. You’re supposed to rest so you’d feel better the next day. But… Throughout the day, while you were just lying in your bed, staring at the ceiling, you thought how much more productive you could be.

But instead, you just sat there. Every time you moved, you felt like gravity had gotten twice more stronger than it should be. You had so many things you could do.

You were also a side reporter. More freelancing than an official one really. Occassionally writing up something in day to day that was worth mentioning to the public, whether it was something interesting that the average person don’t know but might get interested in- to more serious things like when an accident had happened near you.

You never had a schedule, you weren't obliged to keep writing for them every day- but you could send in a piece of your work to be published by them.

Other than that, you had actual snail-mail letters sent to you from family members that you should get to. They take time to deliver, and doing it faster, the better it’d be for them as well. Sure, you’ve all gotten smartphones and could use a messaging program, but there was something special about sending real, tangible things they could touch that needed thought before it gets sent off.

…

And you didn’t do any of that.

Or… Not exactly.

You did try something. You did try writing a report on the amazing ‘job’ a 65 year old man was doing just down the street that everyone undermines- cleaning up leaf litter and just downright litter every day on the road, without getting paid. You did try thinking of things to reply to your cousin who lived seas away from you.

… But everything you did, just seemed not as good as you thought it’d be.

So you groaned, thinking you’re just going to do it another day. But all this… waiting has gotten you stressed.

You know you shouldn’t dwell but… You just tossed and turned in bed, like some kind of annoying purgatory of wanting to do something and can’t, and getting stressed when you don’t do something and just stay lying awake, trying your best to. Fall. Asleep.

“Oh, I didn’t even take a long nap for god’s sake…” You say to yourself, putting a dramatic hand on your forehead.

On top of everything, you were so bored!

You didn’t want to look at your phone, because you worry it’s just going to keep you up. But now you’re just staring at the wall, the ceiling, back to the other wall… And your mind had gotten so numb that you’ve resorted to making weird convulsion-like movement in your bed.

You make a particularly loud groan afterwards, sounding thoroughly miserable. You didn;t do work, didn’t socialize, and even more… You didn’t actually rest, and now your brain seems to be against you in trying to make you sleep.

Just as you attempt to close your eyes again, lying on the bed with a pissed-off look to your face, you suddenly hear three, slow knocks on your door.

Tap.

… You almost screamed a ghastly scream at that, if you weren’t actually just choking yourself so you don’t make the noise.

What the hell was THAT?!

You stand up from your bed, slowly opening the door without the lock that was in front of your front apartment door- Why didn’t these have locks too, what’s the point?!- And leaning in the peephole, praying that you don’t see an eyeball peering back at you.

…

It wasn’t an eye. It was an eye socket. With an eye light inside of it. Red and big, and casting a dim light on the peephole.

“… Sans?!” You almost shout when you realize who he is. Any other human would probably shriek at the mere sight of him in the dramatic darkness of the apartment hallway. What ‘with those skeletal features that most grandparents described death, the creepy’eyelight, and the hole in his skull.’

… Someone had actually said that to you when you were out with him once.

That person had quickly gained a nosebleed from your fist.

You swung open the door to him, the soft look on his face, his smile non-present. Neutral, his eyelight dilated as he took the sight of you that was… Pretty unsightly even to yourself.

“… angel hair?” His face fell a bit at the sight of you.

“Um… Hi, Sans.” You siad simply. “Uh… Didn’t expect you to come so late tonight.”

“… you didn’t come today.”

You know he was talking about work.

You don’t quite sure know about the relationship you had with Sans, just that it was more… Intimate than what you’d call ‘friends’. Nothing explicitly romantic yet, but… Sans doesn’t talk much to people outside of his brother, and you. He doesn’t work with you, but you’d met him in a little restaurant near the building. He worked in a vegetarian restaurant his brother built- you started making small talk to him, and the rest is pretty much history.

You don’t quite know at what point you clicked with him- it just happened gradually, everyday he was talking more and more with you, as you had started going to the restaurant solely to meet him and he started to take closer steps to you… Going to your house, inviting you to his, laughing together on the sofa…

Never making a move on each other.

Just that you know… You both really, really cared about each other. Like right now.

“Sorry… I didn’t tell you.” You frown, yet again slapping yourself mentally, forgetting to tell your really close friend who brought you to work and home, hung out extensively in the your home, and had no problem giving physical affections… That may or may not last longer than they’re supposed to.

“I got sick.. Maybe.”

You didn’t have to explain much more.

He had walked in silently into your apartment flat which wasn’t anything impressive- he always gave it a disapproving stare at the walls around you. Basically only having two rooms minus the entrance ‘room’- bedroom/kitchen, and bathroom.

He had picked you up, closing the door gently before locking it, walking back to your bedroom, plopping you in your bed.

“tell me what you need, pumpkin.” He said as he opened the cabinets, turning out the small light in the ‘kitchen’ area.

“Sans…” You tried to protest.

“you’re hungry.”

… Quickly ending in failure.

You’d let him make you a simple corn soup, worried about the state of your stomach, knowing it might be sensitive. He had sat you up in your bed, helped feed you, giving encouraging waves whenever you went still for a few seconds, the sleepiness seeming to come when he was near you.

Sans being a cook, had made the corn stock soup you had tucked away in your drawer into something restaurant level. The longer you ate the more lively you felt, and as he put the small bowl away in the sink, washing quietly to himself without a word to you… You felt more comfortable just lying on the side with the soft yellow light in the corner of your room, with silent dishwashing in the other corner, than being in the dark with no sound.

The sight of him just wringing his hands and drying them in the tower… Made you smile, thinking how he had come all this way to take care of you the moment you told him you were kind of sick.

After going to the bathroom to collect warm water in a rubber bottle, he came back, placed the water bottle on top of your stomach, and…

He climbed into the bed, arms curling around you, legs wrapped around your lower half. He pressed his skull to the side of your face… A sound similar to the rev of a truck engine slowly but surely getting heard from his ribcage.

… Was that…

Purring?

Well- arguing whether Sans was actually just a big cat or just a monster skeleton- wasn’t the only thing that had made you as stiff as a board, eyes wide.

… This.. Has never happened before.

Sure, you’ve held hands, hugged him, real tight too- but Sans had never just climbed onto your bed, laid in it with you and snuggled close to you. Not that you could remember, at least.

It made your heart beat fast, and you wondered if you were feeling hot because of the warmth that was just radiating off of his body, or… You’re just really, really flushed.

Must be both.

Sans looks completely relaxed while he held you like either a big teddy bear or a body pillow… And you just couldn’t do that. Your heart wouldn’t let that, as well as your tired groginess being pushed to the back of your mind at the closeness.

“… Sans?”

“mmm…?”

Oh GOD his voice sounded really husky right now.

“…” This shouldn’t be an appropriate time but- if anything happens, you’ll just blame it on your non-existent fever. “What are you doing?”

“snuggling you in your bed.” He says simply, as if it was the easiest question he’s ever heard that needed answering. “why?”

“… That’s what I wanted to ask you.” You say meekly… Slowly turning your body to him so you could hug him back, to which he gratefully taken a snugger hold on you. It wasn’t very comfortable with thick bones under your spine right? Not because… You wanted to get closer to the skeleton, no…

“… what do you mean?” He asks, and you see that red eyelight, looking down at you. You’ve never seen it so dilated before.

“… Uh… You came here, made me soup, helped me eat the soup, and now you’re in my bed, h-holding me like this…” Was that the ‘fever’ or your embarrassment making your cheeks burn? “… Why did you come all this way?”

Sans go silent for awhile, as he seems to be thinking.

“… a sweet little human who is gentle and kind to me, hadn’t come to get her lunch of the day… no news, asked her work, told me she called sick. didn’t get a text from her, i got worried. i don’t like not knowing what’s wrong with my little honeypot.” As his gaze seem to fall on you again, you note how fuzzy and soft they were… Radiating adoration at your face.

“when i see the exhaustion just radiating off of her… i can’t just leave her be…. gotta… gotta take care of the ones i love.” He gives you a smile, small and genuine.

“you look like you didn’t sleep.”

“… I didn’t. I couldn’t.” You quickly added, as he shushed you, petting your hair.

“you have me with you. if you need anything, just tell me. i’ll be here, sugar lump.”

… He really did just come in the middle of the night, worried how you were doing despite the fact you didn’t text him… Probably because he was contemplating whether to come to your apartment or not, since you didn’t tell him anything. It’s getting better day by day, but you know how afraid Sans could be at… Losing someone. Making them run away and fear him.

You guess you being sick just overridden all that, now with him openly purring and tucking your head under his chin, curling around you some more.

…

Your relationship just got all the more closer…

And the blooming warmth on your chest, the happy noises he was making the closer he felt he was to you, and the smile on both of yours and his faces told you it was just going to get better from now on.

#stress relief #ht!sans/reader #haven't been writing 'properly' in awhile #thought to make a practice with this #it ain't perfect but...#it's got fluff in the end with big warm boi.#short fic #snippet #guess who read a VERY good ht!sans fic today

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spiderman-homecomeme · 6 years ago

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Day One - Hidden Connections

AN: You guys!!! Spideychelle week is finally here!! Ahhhh I’m so excited to see what everyone else as written and to share my stuff! Here is my contribution to day one! It’s a little short and quick, and there’s a fair amount of non-romantic stuff in it, but I just thought this idea was really funny and had to write it down! A huge thank you to @spideychelleweek for putting this together!

Prompt: Secret Relationship AU/College AU

Pls enjoy some 2.4k of humor, fluff, and a dash of angst.

“To whom it may concern,”

“Dear Sir or Madam,”

“Dear Mr. Bugle,”

“Hello,

I hope your day is going well.

My name is Peter Parker, and I happened to film the altercation between the criminal known as Rhino and the heroes Luke Cage and Spider-Man on the intersection of 42nd Street and 11th Avenue. I have some screencaps of it attached, if you are interested in the video for a blog post, let me know. I am willing to sell said footage for a discounted quick-sale price.

Sincerely,

Yours Truly,

Love,

Thanks,

Peter Parker

Releasing a puff of air through his lips, Peter hits send.

The clickable ad he’d seen while scrolling through Facebook said: SEND VIDEOS OF SPIDER-MAN. $1 PER SECOND*. It was only after he’d clicked did he notice the fine print: Spider-Man must be within the frame for the whole second, otherwise the dollar is void.

But that doesn’t matter. Peter has a full five minutes that Dronie had so graciously recorded for him of Luke Cage and him kicking Rhino’s ass.

And he really needs the money.

MJ’s birthday is four days away, a day which also coincides with his rent being due, so in other words: he’s essentially broke. While he does have money in his bank account, he only has enough for one of those things, not both, and he can’t really afford to be evicted at this point. He knows MJ won’t leave him if he doesn’t get her anything…

But she at least deserves something nice.

This video should net him roughly $300; he can take her out to a nice dinner, maybe buy her something actually decent for a change. Not another scarf.

And who knows? She might not even want to go out to a fancy restaurant, seeing as she’s turned down every offer he’s given to take her out in the six months they’ve been dating. Every date night, it’s either been take-out, a quick slice, or some kind of fast food. Not that he’s complaining about hanging out with his girlfriend; every minute spent with her was more than enough. And he’d be a liar if he said it wasn’t a little easier on the wallet.

But there was still that seed of doubt. Why did she never want to leave Queens? Why was it always such a rush to get back home? Why hadn’t she introduced him to her parents? The intrusive, relentless thought that her being embarrassed of him might have been a factor whispered darkly in the back of his mind. He knows he can be immature at times, both with his sense of humor and overall behavior, so, albeit shamefully, he could understand where she was coming from.

Maybe a nice present accompanied by a fancy dinner could help to prove that he can act like a grown-up.

Maybe.

The next morning, while happily munching on a bowl of Hulk O’s, he’s genuinely surprised to see a reply in his notification bar from none other than J. Jonah Jameson himself.

“I want to see that video. Will talk about your payment after I have it analyzed by my team.

Your appointment is today at 9am. Don't be late.

J.J. Jameson

Editor for the Daily Bugle Heralding Your Daily News │Tel [212] 555-7109│Fax [877] 555-0971

Sent from my iPhone.”

Peter only allows himself a moment to be put off by the the informality of Jameson’s response, brows crinkled as he turns to check the time.

8:30 AM.

He drops his spoon into the bowl, milk and soggy cereal splashing.

Well, shit.

He stuffs whatever clothes he can find into a backpack before roughly yanking his suit on; he flings himself out of his fifth story window, cereal bowl abandoned on the kitchen counter. Phone in hand, following along on Google Maps, he wonders how super heroes were able to find their way around big cities before GPS.

The next thirty minutes fly by in a blur, and Peter honestly doesn’t know how he’s able to put enough brain cells together to find a place to change into his civilian “interview” clothes. It’s a wonder he made it there in one piece.

The lobby doesn’t have any kind of directory, or any indication of where J. Jonah Jameson is supposed to be. In fact, Peter isn’t even sure where he’s supposed to meet the guy, unable to recall if there’d been anything like that in the email.

He gingerly approaches the front desk, ducking his head down slightly as he offers a smile to the receptionist. “Uhm, hello! I’m here to see Mr. Jameson?”

The woman gives him the the quick once over, visibly unimpressed. “You got a delivery, kid?”

“Uh, n-no.” Peter shifts awkwardly, smile fading. “He, uh, he sent me an email. To meet him at nine? Today? Right… Right now?”

“Hold on,” she says, her voice monotone, turning to the phone on the desk and dialing a four digit number with freshly manicured nails.

Peter starts to say, “Thanks,” but is cut off by the woman holding a finger up.

“Hey Ted, I’ve got a kid down here. Says he’s supposed to meet with Jameson. Do you know anything about it?”

She listens for a moment, nodding. “Okay, thanks.”

Click.

“Okay, kid, go over to that elevator. 17th floor. Someone will meet you.”

Peter smiles again, throwing a quick, but polite, “Thank you,” over his shoulder as he moves.

He’s met by who he assumes to be Ted, a slight middle-aged man with tired eyes. “Peter Parker?” He asks.

Peter nods.

“Alright, follow me.”

Peter isn’t taken directly to the office at first, only being seated in the waiting area just outside.

For thirty minutes.

9 AM, he said. Don’t be late, he said.

The door to the office is ajar, the sound of Jameson yelling at and berating some poor unfortunate soul over the phone almost as loud as the clacking of Ted’s typing on his keyboard.

“I don’t care what that weasel said, I want it done right this time! And if you had done what I’d told you to, we wouldn’t be having this conversation!” There’s a pause as Jameson presumably listens to the person on the other line begging for mercy. “Fine. Go with the lilac. It’ll clash with your comforter, you’ll see. Don’t come crying to me when you have to buy a whole new bed set.”

Another beat of just Ted’s typing passes.

“Okay. Love you, Mom. Buh-bye.” Jameson hangs up, before yelling out the door. “HOFFMAN!”

“Yes, sir?” Ted answers quickly.

“MY 9:00 IS LATE. IT’S 9:30!”

“No, sir, he’s here sir. He’s been here since 9.”

“WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME? I COULD’VE HAVE ENDED THIS CONVERSATION SOONER. MAKE A NOTE OF THAT, HOFFMAN.”

“Yes, sir. Will do, sir.”

“NEXT TIME, INTERRUPT MY PHONE CALL. STICK YOUR HEAD IN HERE. GIVE ME A SIGNAL.” He sighs. “Okay. Send him in.”

Ted looks over. “You can go on in. Good luck.”

Peter falters for a moment, wondering if he’s really willing to go through with this.

No. He is. MJ was more than worth it.

He says a quick, “Thank you,” before walking in to the lion’s den.

Jameson sits at his desk, looking up briefly, chewing on an unlit cigar. “Well, quit your dawdling, get in here.”

Peter picks up the pace.

The man glares at him for an uncomfortable few moments, sizing him up, before extending his hand. “You got the video?” He asks, skipping introductions entirely.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah.” Peter swallows, handing him the drive.

Jameson hums. “I was expecting someone… More… professional.”

It’s then that Peter realizes he’d left his apartment without even combing his hair or brushing his teeth. He hadn’t even bothered put on deodorant or to change out of his The Mighty Thorgi t-shirt. He’s wearing a pair of the day before yesterday’s and yesterday’s jeans, and to make matters worse, he’s wearing two different shoes; one grey converse and one blue.

“You homeless or something? Because there’s a soup kitchen around here.” Jameson spends the next few moments trying to plug in the USB to his computer, flipping it over and over. “Damn thing. HOFFMAN!”

Ted practically sprints in. “Yes, sir?”

Peter tries to speak. “I can do it if you—”

“—Don’t patronize me, kid,” Jameson snaps. “Hoffman. Plug this in.”

Peter watches in silence as Jameson’s expression never changes as the video plays out on his computer. Peter knows what’s on the video, he knows it by heart, in fact. He fought in it. When the video ends, Jameson leans back, his blank expression now seems thoughtful.

“I’m gonna give it to you straight kid,” He says. “It’s a good video. Now I can send this down to my lab nerds. They can calculate the exact amount of time that Spider-Man’s in a full frame. I’m guessing it’s gonna be around $120 to $150. But, that’s if we give you credit, of course. If you wanna sign the rights of this video over to us, we’re looking at, say, $350 upfront. You won’t be credited, though.”

To Peter, that actually sounds pretty good; he gets a good amount of money, more than he thought, and his name won’t be tied to his alter-ego. It’s a win-win. “Oh, yeah! That sounds great!”

Jameson’s smile is shark-like. “Great. HOFFMAN! GET ME CONTRACT A27!”

“Do you mean A63, sir?” Ted asks from the door, contract already in hand, placing it on the desk.

“Yes, yes of course. A63.” Jameson shakes his head. “Can’t get decent help around here,” he mutters.

Peter signs where Ted indicates. Jameson signs the last page and hands back the contract.

“I’ll be back with your copy,” Hoffman says as he exits the room.

Jameson then opens his drawer, retrieving a thick check book and grabbing a pen. “Parker Peterson, right?”

“No, no. Just… Peter… Parker.”

As Jameson writes the check, Peter takes the time to take in the office around him, his eyes drawn immediately to the portrait on the desk. His stomach drops as he realizes who it is.

No doubt about it.

That’s a picture of his girlfriend.

Why is there a picture of MJ… on Jameson’s desk?

“Pretty, isn’t she?”

Jameson’s voice startles Peter, and he looks over, the older man glaring right into him. “Huh?” Peter asks.

“She’s pretty, right? It’s okay. You can say she’s pretty. Beautiful even.”

Peter nods, voice soft. “Yeah. Really beautiful.” And he means it, more than anything, nervous as he is; MJ is the most beautiful person he’s ever known.

With the flick of his wrist, Jameson deliberately flips the portrait away from Peter.

In the amount of time Peter’s been in the office, Jameson has had two volumes: Loud and VERY LOUD. There seems to be a third setting, however. In a hushed, threatening tone, Jameson seethes. “Listen here, kid. I don’t need no smelly, grubby, unemployed jackass drooling all over my daughter.”

Wait, what?!

Fuck.

“I don’t know what thoughts were going through your sick little mind, but that’s my little girl, and I will be damned if she fuels your pervy little spank bank! Do I make myself clear?”

Oh, if only he knew...

Even though Peter could easily take down the older man, he still finds himself shrinking back slightly.

He nods profusely. “Yes, sir, of course sir.”

“Good.” Jameson roughly shoves the check at Peter. “Now get the hell out of my office.”

Peter doesn’t need to be told twice as he dashes through the door, nearly running past Hoffman who expertly passes him the contract copy.

“Have a nice day!” Hoffman calls as Peter disappears down the hallway.

Omw, the text read from MJ.

Luckily, Peter had already planned for arrival; the apartment’s clean, the floors vacuumed, Febreez has been sprayed. Conditions were perfect. All he needed to do now was sit and wait, mindlessly tapping his fingers against his thigh, the events from earlier replaying in his head on some kind of torturous loop.

The sound of the key turning the lock fifteen minutes later had his pulse quickening. She was here. “I brought Chinese!” She called as she set the bags down on the dining room table.

Peter cuts right to the chase, barely lasting a second. “So. I met your dad today.”

MJ nearly drops the lo mein, her eyes blown wide. “Oh my God.”

Peter shrugs.

“I am so. So. Sorry.”

He tilts his head a fraction, brows wrinkling in confusion. “Why?”

“I don’t know how he find out,” She says, almost to herself. “I tried to keep this— us— hidden from him. He chases away any guy who comes close to me; friend, colleague… One time a teacher said I was a remarkable student and he— It doesn’t matter. I’ve tried explaining this hetero-normative, misogynistic bullshit to him, but it just goes right over his head. He’s always had this… toxic paternity complex. Like, I know that he loves me, I guess, but that’s no excuse.” She folds her arms across her chest, glancing away, her eyes welling in frustration. “And I just didn’t want him to scare you away.”

Peter puts his hands on her arms. “Woahwoahwoahwoah. Hey. It’s okay.” She looks up at him. “He doesn’t know about us. I just went to the Bugle today to sell a video of Spider-Man… and I saw your picture on his desk.”

Relief washes over her, and she puts a hand on her chest. “Oh, thank God.”

“Nothing to worry about.” Peter grins, before growing confused again, expression crinkling. “I thought your last name was Jones?”

“It is.”

“Then…?”

“So’s my Mom’s,” she elaborates. “They just never got married. Or stayed together, really.”

“Ah, gotcha,” Peter nods.

A comfortable silence fills the room, the food on the table surely getting colder by the minute. But MJ finds that her curiosity is growing too strong. She has to know.

“What did he say?”

Peter snorts, face scrunching as he scratches the back of his neck. “A lot. He totally freaked out when I said you were pretty.”

“He yelled at you for saying I was pretty?”

“Well… It wasn’t really yelling. Just angry whispering. And...” Peter turns bashful. “I said you were beautiful.”

A small smile cracks MJ’s expression, and she looks back down at their now intertwined hands. “Gross.”

“I know.” He cups her cheek, thumb caressing the soft skin there as he stares deeply into her eyes. He leans in, placing a loving, lingering kiss against her lips. As he pulls away, they both sigh. “Just so you know…” He starts, voice barely above a whisper.

Her eyes gaze adoringly into his; she’s not even trying to hide how mushy she feels at this moment.

“You’re always the star of my spank bank.”

“Wait, What?”

#spideychelle #spideychelleweek2k19 #peter parker x michelle jones #petermj #fic #ahhhhhh here it is!!#hope you enjoy!

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lucifers-trash-stash · 5 years ago

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Run From Me: Chapter Six

Summary: There aren’t many solutions to escape becoming a member of The Mad Titan Thanos’ harem. All you can try to do is to run and pray he doesn’t find you.

Word Count: 3,352

Chapter Warnings: Some violence

Run From Me Masterlist

After seeing Thanos yesterday, I’d been on autopilot for the whole day. When I ate breakfast with Elsy, Tuella, and Aphua, I listened to Elsy clamour away about whatever was on her mind while nodding politely and eating my food, not really taking anything in. Tuella seemed to notice my distant attitude and offered me a small smile, but ultimately left me be.

I told them goodbye, and for the first time in a long while, I wandered back to my room. I flopped on top of the covers, laying there and staring up at the ceiling. I hated being in this room during the day, but now I took comfort in it. It made me feel like a prisoner, yet also kept me hidden from those that might want to talk to me. I wasn’t in the mood to deal with anyone; I needed to think.

Closing my eyes, I stretched out my limbs on the bed, grounding myself. I still wasn’t certain how I truly felt about Thanos. It was a confusing mess; one minute I felt hot and bothered, and another minute I felt scared and hopeless. I crave his touch along my cheek, but his stare yesterday reminded me just how powerful Thanos was. He could murder me without a second thought. What if I didn't give him what he wanted? What was stopping him from going back on his word that he wouldn't hurt me?

No matter how I put it in my mind, I kept returning to that conclusion. That no matter what kindness he gave me, he still had so much more authority and influence under the surface. The fact that many of his women refuse to leave their rooms for fear of his might was proof enough of that.

And yet… why did he still fascinate me? As afraid as I was, I was morbidly curious about him. He was intelligent, and a part of me wanted to pick his brain, try to figure out why he is the way that he is. Another part was interested in knowing how sex with him felt like. I wasn’t a virgin, I knew a few things. But how did he compensate for smaller partners? It was probably much more than simply a tight fit, and I almost wished Elsy had gone into more detail about his… attentiveness. That way I wouldn’t be sitting here spending my time thinking about it and further digging myself deeper into the hole of my embarrassing carnal desire for him.

I rubbed my palms against my eyes, trying to focus on something else. My thoughts ran back to the Edgar Allan Poe book in my bag. I was so flustered yesterday that I hadn’t bothered opening it back up. How could I focus on such grim prose when all I could think about were Thanos’ eyes? His cool, grey eyes.

Sighing, I sat up in bed and began to pace around the room. I really wasn’t sure what I was doing, mostly just trying to keep my mind occupied. Wandering over to the window, I stared outside. The vast expanse of the universe always interested me as a child, but I’d never imagined actually being out in the thick of it and certainly not being captured by the Mad Titan that wanted to cull it. With my forehead pressed against the cool glass, I let my eyes glaze over for a moment as I took it all in.

A knock at my door yanked me out of my daydream, and I shook my head to pull myself together. I inhaled deeply, fully expecting a guard to be standing outside and requesting for me to see Thanos in his room. But when I opened the door, it was a much smaller and more petite figure.

In the doorway, Aphua stared at me expectantly through her sapphire blue hair. Her shawl today was a dark turquoise, hiding her body underneath. I often wondered if she was naturally cold-natured or if she just preferred these clothes.

After a brief moment of awkward silence, I realized I should probably say something. “Oh, Aphua, how are you doing? What’s up?” I asked.

Before answering, her hands emerged from her shawl, holding a small parcel in her hands. She held it out, pushing it towards me and into my hands. Confused, I peeled the fabric back, revealing a half sandwich and a few slices of ripe Yaro root.

My brow furrowed, and I looked up at Aphua. Before I could ask what this was for, she said, “You missed lunch. I didn’t want you to go hungry.”

I blinked. It barely felt like any time had passed since I came to my room. Had I really missed lunch? Aphua’s silver-eyed gaze didn’t seem to me like she was lying, so I figured I really must have spent all that time spacing out and doing nothing.

“Thank you,” I told her, giving her a grateful smile. Aphua’s head tilted down to look at the floor, but I could have sworn I saw a small smile on her lips as well. She left without another word, and I watched as she shuffled back down the hall and out of sight.

Closing the door behind me, I took a bite of the sandwich. Nothing like an Earth sandwich since it was Gordgan meat instead of ham and cheese or egg salad, but close enough. What I wouldn’t give for a bag of Doritos or a juicy, greasy McDonald’s burger or even a nice bowl of homemade chicken noodle soup from my mother. That last thought made me sad, so I ate my sandwich and turned my attention to my bag.

Setting the rest of the food on my bed with the sandwich still clenched between my teeth, I pulled out one of my journals. I plucked the photo of my family out of the pages and propped it up on my sheets so I could look at it. Mulling over the memories in my journal, I took another pensive bite. It helped to reread the images of the past even as much as writing them down did. They were more real that way, more at the forefront of my mind. Trying to imagine what my father would say to me in this situation. After a moment of turning that thought over in my mind, I realized that he probably wouldn’t have a good answer for how to deal with simultaneously hating and lusting after a giant purple behemoth that would put Andre the Giant to shame. Mom probably wouldn’t be much better, and I smirked at imagining her trying to come up with solutions like she always did. No problem is too big, she’d always tell me, it can be broken down into smaller pieces and dealt with that way.

Perhaps it was an issue of breaking things down into smaller components. I bit into a ripened Yaro root slice. Thanos was one big issue that could be dealt with in smaller ways. Keeping on his good side was one way. Would it be easier to deal with him if I obeyed him, gave him what he wanted? Right now I was still untrustworthy, and it seemed he had an eye on my every move.

With a huff, I fell back against the bed and threw an arm over my eyes. I didn’t want to consider that was my only possibility of getting out of here. But what else was there? If I put my head down and did what I was told, he would eventually ignore me for long enough time for me to plan an escape. Except that wasn’t me.

I let myself drift for a while, letting my mind take me to other places. Every fluttering of my eyes opening and then closing again felt like minutes instead of hours. A serene calmness swept over my limbs, and I laid there, floating out in an empty space.

I wasn’t sure what had woken me out of my stupor. Out of nowhere, sudden inspiration flit across my mind and I shot up in bed. I stared into space, suddenly aware of what needed to be done. I couldn’t sit here like this, trying to decide what I should or shouldn’t do. I needed to act. I had to find out once and for all where the escape pods were kept. That would be the first step in a series of many steps I would have to take before I could get out of here. If I didn’t do this now, I would forever continue to make excuses as to why I couldn’t.

Quickly slipping on my boots and throwing my jacket on and my bag over my shoulder, I crept to the door and poked my head out into the hallway. Not a soul was roaming outside, so I slipped through and shut the door behind me quietly. Trying to compose myself, I took a few deep breaths before making my way toward where I knew the restricted area was. It was the only place on my map that I hadn’t plotted out so that had to be where all of the important planet destruction activities went on.

I knew there was a chance I would be caught almost instantly, but I was going to take the risk. It was better than what Thanos could do to me if I stayed. Seeing his simmering rage was something I never wanted to experience again. Even if he didn’t, just knowing the possibility that he could easily hurt me was something I didn’t want to chance. Immediate death is better than a lifetime of mistreatment.

After a few more winding passageways, I was here. The cut off point. No one was around this particular hallway, but I knew that what lies beyond would be crawling with Chitauri and other assortments of alien guards. I had to be stealthy, which I had become accustomed to in my many years of planetary travel. But while that was easy to do when those environments were rich with foliage to blend into and other nooks and crannies, that was rather hard to do on a massive ship with long, smooth hallways with no places to hide. I just had to pray that I wouldn’t get caught before I could sneak into one of the control rooms.

As I slowly proceeded, I made mental notes of which passages I was taking so I could log them in for later. If there was a later. At this point it was do or die, and I had to keep my wits about me now.

Soft talking came from somewhere behind me, and my body began to tense up. It would be a matter of time before they turned the corner and found me. Frantically, I pushed the entry buttons on the doors that lined the walls, but all were locked and wouldn’t budge. Fuck! I had barely accomplished anything!

I didn’t want it to end like this. Against my better judgement, I scurried a bit quicker down the hallway, continuously looking over my shoulder for the source of the voices. I kept slamming the buttons for each door I walked past, but nothing happened. My heartbeat was deafening in my ears, and I tried my best to focus, but to no avail.

Hoping to hide behind the corner of the next hallway, I quickly turned without checking to see if the coast was clear. That’s when I slammed against an armored chest, gasping and trying to scramble backwards. But it was too late, and a hand gripped my wrist tightly, causing me to wince.

Two Chitauri guards stood before me, leering down at my form. I knew that the Chitauri were a merciless species, eager for any opportunity to torture, maim, and slaughter anyone that stood in their way. Trembling, I watched in horror as the one that held me spoke in chitters, “Where do you think you’re going, whore?”

“I’m not a whore!” I sputtered, trying desperately to regain control of myself for long enough to get out of this mess. “I just turned down the wrong hallway was all! You expect me to figure out where I’m going when the hallways are a fucking labyrinth!?”

The other Chitauri guard scoffed. “You shouldn’t be getting lost in the first place. Your only job is to spread your-”

“Don’t you fucking say it you piece of shit!” I grunted as I tried pulling away - failing again - and driving the heel of my foot against his ankle. His boots were armored though, so the effort was futile.

He began to say something more, but another voice interrupted, “You’ve become quite predictable, haven’t you?”

The three of us turned our attention towards Maw, who slowly approached from an entryway behind the guards. My eyes widened as I gazed inside, realizing just how close I was to some sort of control room. Thanos was nowhere to be found, but it was obvious from the aliens at their respective stations and the technology lining the walls that this was one of the many control rooms that would be required to power such a massive vessel. I would have been more in awe of the set up if I wasn’t in this predicament.

“We found one of the Lord’s whores wandering around,” the guard that held me spoke up, shaking my wrist as I struggled to regain my balance.

“I can clearly see that,” Maw coldly snapped as he narrowed his eyes at the two guards. “Let her go. You’ve already tossed her around enough and if you do any more she will receive bruises. I don’t think I have to remind either of you what happened to the last guard that left bruises on his property?”

Without hesitation, the guard released me from his tight hold, but I was about to stumble backwards from tugging away too hard. I braced myself for an impact against the ground, but instead I felt a force hold my back steady and straighten me up, no doubt Maw’s doing.

“But we must return her to-”

“I’ll take care of it. I wouldn’t trust the two of you to transport her safely considering how you manhandle someone who could hardly be perceived as a thinking organism, let alone a threat.” The two guards exchanged chastised glances before following their orders and walking back to the control room, leaving me alone with Maw.

“Fancy meeting you here,” I said, attempting casualness with a lopsided smile, trying to weasel my way out of more reprimands. I should have known better.

Unamused, Maw laced his fingers in front of himself, looking down at me. “My patience with you wears thin, Terran.” His hands then unclasped, one sliding down my back as he urged me to move, pushing me back down the hallway from where I’d come from. The action and his touch sickened me, and I shrugged his hand away as soon as he allowed me to.

“For a woman who is constantly spouting off that she can take care of herself,” Maw began, using his power to make my legs stop and therefore focus my attention entirely on him. His fingers brushed against my cheek, tilting my chin up to meet his gaze. “You play the damsel in distress rather well.”

“Do not,” I spat at him.

“Really?” His voice drawled in a hum. “Because it seems that through our each and every encounter, you’re constantly needing help. And we provide it to you because we understand how difficult it must be to adjust here.” Maw leaned closer, his head dipping down towards mine. I flinched instinctively, but with his hand gently gripping my chin - careful not to leave bruises - I couldn’t pull away very far. Trying to throw off his magic was just as futile. As if I were an amoeba under a microscope, he tilted his head to the side as he stared down at me dispassionately. “But there will come a time, Terran, when our kindness will dry up. Your little games will cease to be amusing, and Lord Thanos will punish you accordingly. As he should have done far sooner.”

Maw suddenly let me free from his grasp, and I stumbled back a few steps before regaining my footing. With a snide smile crawling up his lips, he glanced down at me and continued, “I certainly think he will. Before this you were just a nuisance, but now you were trying to escape. Perhaps I should tell you of what Thanos does to those who try to run?”

My heart thudded harshly in my chest as I tensed up. I had fucked up bad this time. I could only hope Thanos’ punishment was swift, so I might be able to quickly recover and come up with a better plan than the idiotic one I had just tried to enact. What was I thinking, running around blind? In the moment it seemed rational, but with Maw and his smug grin staring me down, I knew this was the dumbest decision I could have made.

After regarding my expression for a moment more, he turned away and my legs were suddenly back in my power. I shifted slightly as Maw gestured with his finger to follow him. “Come along now. The longer you stand there silently dreading your Lord’s punishment, the longer it will take to atone for your pitiful attempts at fleeing.”

I trailed behind him, staring daggers into his hands, held behind his back. “At least I tried.”

Maw scoffed. “If you call strutting straight into a guard infested location ‘trying’ then I suppose you did accomplish that which was otherwise a failure.” Out of the corner of his eye, he looked over his shoulder at me. “Really, do you Terrans truly believe that struggling in a hopeless situation is commendable? Fate is inevitable, Terran, you will do well to learn that fairly quickly, lest you fall into more trouble than you are worth.”

I held my tongue. There was no point in answering him. I had lost. I had to accept that fact and move forward. Otherwise Maw would be happy to stand there and berate me even further. I suppose in a way I had to take his advice. There was nothing left for me to do except to keep my head down, get my punishment from Thanos, and move on from there.

When we arrived at Thanos’ room, Maw almost walked right in without knocking, so giddy with the idea of tattling on me that he almost forgot his own strict manners. He ushered me forth beside him, and I saw Thanos turn in his chair to glance at the two of us. He sat up in a more formal position as we stopped before him at a respectful distance, his stern glance bearing its weight down on me.

“My Lord,” Maw began, drawing Thanos’ gaze to his subordinate. “I regret to inform you that I found your newest acquisition attempting to leave our ship.”

I tried to choke back a snort. Regret, my ass. Overjoyed, more likely.

Thanos’ steely eyes returned to me. He assessed me for a moment, before finally speaking. “Well?” He asked expectantly, “Does Maw speak the truth?”

I forced myself to lock my gaze with his in challenge. “Yes, Master, he is correct.” I spat the word at him, trying to make my displeasure clear.

Thanos inhaled deeply for a moment. Without looking away from me, he ordered in a firm tone, “Thank you, Maw. You may be excused. My human pet and I are to have a short discussion alone.”

Even though I was watching Thanos carefully, I could almost sense the smile that curled along Maw’s face as he turned and swiftly exited the room. As the door clicked shut behind me with a foreboding finality, I felt the dread begin to settle in my gut.

I was alone with the Mad Titan, and I had no idea what he would do with me.

#run from me #thanos #thanos x oc #thanos x ofc #thanos fanfiction #thanos fanfic #my fanfiction

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pandamancer11 · 6 years ago

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Makoto’s Story - Chapter 1

**This is the first installment in a series I've dedicated to telling Makoto Niijima's side of the story in the events that take place through Persona 5.

It's been a ton of fun to explore the everyday life, turned adventure of a lifetime, of one of my favorite characters in the game! This series will loosely follow the plot of Persona, but I will be throwing a healthy batch of headcanon and my own narrative.

So if that's your thing, please join me as we see the world of Persona through the eyes of the Queen herself! **

Chapter 1: A Day in the Life

I placed the papers back on the table and rubbed my sore eyes.

‘No matter how many times I run the numbers, the board has simply hasn’t given me the funds I need to pull this off…’

Lifting my face from my hands, I gave a tentative glance to the clock.

‘Five thirty already? I’ve been at this for hours, but there is still so much to be done.’ I drew in a deep breath ‘I hate to complain to the school board. They have lent a great deal of trust to me. Trusting me to be able to budget and plan this year’s up-coming student festival for the school. I just wish they had given me a little more to work with here…’

I grouped my scattered papers together, stacked them nicely and placed them neatly back in my bag. ‘I guess I’m just going to have to come back in again this Sunday to try to figure this out. Though I still don’t know what use it would be. I’ve been working on this every day for the past two weeks. I’m afraid I may end disappointing principal Kobayakawa and the whole school at this rate.’

My bag in hand, I stood and slid the chair back in its place. ‘I simply can’t let that happen. I knew, going in, becoming school president wasn’t going to be an easy task. I’ll just have to double my efforts tomorrow morning.’

I shut and locked the door to the student council office behind me. The school hallway was barren. Not a student or a teacher in sight. Most of the hall lights were off, and the only source of illumination was coming from the dwindling sun through the large bay windows overlooking the courtyard. It’s not like I was unaccustomed to being the only one left in the school.

It was just part of the routine at this point. Get to school early, hold meetings, go to class, check in on clubs, have a meeting with principal Kobayakawa, continue planning for the festival, and now, go home to get my studying done. I won’t say it’s been particularly easy since I became a third year here at Shujin Academy, but it’s all a part of ‘growing up’ as Sae told me.

How could I complain about my workload when my sister has not only come up against all expectations of her as an unmarried woman in the male-dominated work environment that is the SUI office but has blazed a path for me.

Not only did she graduate at the top of her class in law school, but she was even invited to be a prosecutor for the special investigations department. Becoming the first woman to do so. I’ve learned so much from her and would be privileged to live up to being even a fraction of what she is.

“Well hey there miss school president!” A man’s voice called to me. I looked towards the source and found the school’s volleyball coach, Mr. Kamoshida, was walking in my direction from further down the hallway. Probably fresh from the team practice considering the time of day.

“What has you at the school this late hour Niijima? Classes ended a few hours ago.” He grinned and rubbed the back of his head “Probably up to some student council business eh?”

I gave a smile back and a slight bow “Good evening Mr. Kamoshida. Yes, sir, the council has needed me to stay a little later after school to help organize the student festival that is coming up in a couple of months.”

“You are already working on that thing?” he let out a slight chuckle “You big brained students never cease to amaze me! Showing such initiative and dedication will surely be in your favor when it comes to college applications.”

“Thank you, sir. We are certainly trying our best to provide the best experience for our fellow students here at Shujin!”

“Well, I’m sure it will show when the time comes” He shifted his weight to the opposite leg and crossed his arms “You know Makoto, we could really use someone with your talents on the girls’ volleyball team.” Mr. Kamoshida suggested, “Now I know you have a lot on your plate at the moment, but we are holding tryouts for next semester’s team soon.”

I clutched my bag “Thank you for the offer sir, but I’m not really the athletic type-”

“Nonsense! Volleyball is more than just raw physical skill. It’s all about strategy. Having the ability to out-think as well as outmaneuver your opponent.” He mimed serving a volleyball “Strength means nothing without the ability to read the opponents weaknesses” Kamoshida spiked his imaginary ball “then exploiting that weakness to gain victory!” He dusted off his hands and smiled widely “And I think you’re just the girl to give us that much-needed edge! Besides, I can tell from just looking at you. You have quite the physic. I’m sure your body is capable of more than you give it credit for!”

My shoulders tightened “That’s very kind of you to say, sir. But as you did point out earlier, I do have quite a lot on my plate at the moment-”

He crossed his arms once again “Oh! No need to make a decision now! Just promise me you’ll think about it. I can assure you, you’ll be one of my first picks if you try out! I know you wouldn’t need another letter of recommendation from a teacher, but one more certainly couldn’t hurt.”

I nodded “It’s a very tempting and generous offer sir. I will certainly give it a great deal of thought when the time comes.”

He shot me a knowing grin “Now, we talked about this, no need for the sir stuff ok? Just call me Suguru. And hopefully soon, coach!”

“Yes si-, sorry, Suguru. I will do well to remember in the future” I faced the door that left the hallway “Well, I should be going or I’ll miss my train.”

He gestured to the door “Oh of course! Sorry for keeping you! Have a good rest of your day Makoto. See you tomorrow.”

I nodded in return “You as well!” and pulled open the door and hastily walked through. I watched the door slowly close behind me and took a breath. I could feel my palms moist with sweat. ‘Now now Makoto. You’re being ridiculous.’ I assured myself ‘You know they are all just rumors. We were simply having a friendly conversation, nothing more.’ I gave myself a moment to recompose. Once I had my legs back underneath myself, I made my way out of the front hall and towards the subway station.

The apartment looked the same as it did that morning when I left for school. I examined the clock on the wall ‘Hmm. Sis should have been home by now.’ Locking the door behind me, I placed my bag and jacket on the sofa and headed to the kitchen. ‘She must be pulling another all-nighter at the office.’

I pulled out a Tupperware of leftover homemade ramen I made earlier in the week. Being sure to make plenty and to portion out some for Sae as well. She works so hard, and she’s kind enough to house me at her apartment after all. The least I could do is make her a meal. However, when I opened up the fridge, I saw her container of ramen still full and untouched after sitting there for days.

‘Come to think of it’ I silently considered to myself ‘when was the last time I saw her home?’ I poured the last of my soup into a pot and let it heat back up on the stove top. ‘Maybe I should just shoot her a text and make sure she’s fine…’

I tapped my phone's screen back to life and opened up the messenger app. ‘Evening Sis. Sorry to bother you. I know you must be hard at work at the office. Just haven’t heard from you in a while and wanted to make sure you were well. Please let me know if I can do anything to help!’

The ramen had already started to steam, so I took a bowl from a nearby cupboard and set my place at the table. I pulled my seat up and let the aroma of the warm soup fill my lungs. It still smelt delicious. In this batch, I played with the ratio of chili sauce to broth. It absolutely paid off.

After a few spoonfuls, I noticed just how quiet it was in the house. I wasn’t particularly sure why it stood out to me just then of all times. Ever since Sae let me move in with her, it’s always kind of been like this. The apartment was beautiful. Matching cream-colored sofas in the living room. Lovely gray and black colored curtains. Even a couple of potted ferns and lilies to brighten the room a little. And under a stunningly hand carved coffee table laid a gorgeous ornate rug.

Sae’s apartment certainly didn’t lack a sense of taste. When she moved in, she even hired an interior decorator to give the place its distinct style and character. It gave off a sort of beautiful minimalistic feel.

Still, I had to admit, it lacked warmth. Can’t say I’ve ever complete felt comfortable in it. Though it was a near art piece, it still felt hollow somehow.

The stillness was putting me on edge, so I clicked on the TV in the living room a listened while I ate. The large screen popped to life, and the SNN breaking news logo streaked across the screen.

‘-Experts are still baffled as to what caused the trains to crash earlier this April. The subway’s conductor had cleared all tests for narcotics, or any substances of any kind, in his system. Even after extensive interrogation, he still cannot recall why he would have sent his train speeding down the track, far over recommended speeds, causing the massive crash into Shibuya station, killing dozens and injuring even more.-’ A reporter announced

‘Oh right, that train crash that happened earlier in the school year. It was fortunate it was on a Sunday, or Shujin students very easily could have been on that train or at the station.’ I stirred the noodles while listening to the broadcaster continue.

‘The conductor is still awaiting his court date to face a judge over whether the matter is to be considered criminal neglect or manslaughter.’ Another reporter chimed in ‘Now why isn’t he just being thrown in jail for murder? He wasn’t under any sort drug as you said, then he had to have been in a clear state of mind when he killed all those people’

‘Many have asked the same.’ The first reporter retorted ‘However, after the incident, it was confirmed by a doctor at the scene that the conductor had had a seizure of some sort behind the wheel. He was said to be foaming at the mouth, and his eyes rolled to the back of his head. He was said to be lucky to recover from such an accident-’

I clicked the tv back off and sighed “I really don’t feel like hearing about train accidents right now” I murmured to myself while getting up. I grabbed my school bag and sat back down at the dinner table. Undid the latch and brought out my notes from the day. Segregating the binders and papers into separate piles by classes, I cracked open the first.

Before starting, I grouped a few noodles together and chomped down on a mouth full. My stomach growled with desire for more. “Hmm. Forgot how long ago lunch was. Guess my stomach didn’t.” I rubbed my tired eyes and got to work on my homework ‘Ok. Question one: according to the philosopher Plato, the soul is composed of appetite, spirit and what else?’

#persona 5 #persona #Makoto #fanfic #Makotosstory

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kyraensui · 7 years ago

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Solitude of heat and care

Summary: Lotor testing his luck and pride as an Alpha to court an infamous omega, Keith.

Rated: Teen & Up

Chapter 6 of 8

Can read at AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/12559508/chapters/28769541

Keith stood quiet near the door when he opened the lavish room. It was huge! Almost the size of the apartment that he stayed with Shiro. Speaking of Shiro, when did he kicked him out? He found out from Lotor when he wanted to go home that all of his belongings were packed up and left in the new room of this house. Meaning he was going to live with Lotor. He was going to kick Shiro's butt when he gets to see him. The moment he message him about his bond was the day he told Lotor to take care of him. He was given away to Lotor without his saying. Stupid Shiro. He also found out that Lance moved in with Shiro. Those jerks. Whatever. This was a huge upgrade in his pale life. He looked around the room with his hand touching the velvet walls and sheer curtains. Even the bed was huge for a single person as he took a flop on the plush mattress. He almost sank in and rolled on his back with his arms stretched out. It felt like he was in one of those fairy tale stories where the heroine gets a happy ending and most would get prince charming too. Instead, Keith was the heroine and he got a cheesy, perverted prince charming. His own fairy tale story was a little twisted and not quite suitable for kids. This room. It was his new solitude from his old place. He turned on his side and curled up with the oversize pillow. This will do now that his heat decided to kick him down and make him suffer. From what he had learned, his heat would become intense after forming a bond with an Alpha. The desire for the Alpha's presence to help fulfill his Omega's needs. Keith buried his face into the pillow. He was scared. He was scared of dealing with his heat alone.

Most of all, he wasn't ready to spend his heat with Lotor yet.

"How are you feeling, little one?" Keith shook his head and laid back on the chair. He was restless from staying up late into the night. It was a miserable first night of his heat. He can barely get out of bed without the help of the maids and escorting him to the dining hall with the weird woman. He was shocked to find out that the weird woman was Lotor's mother and the scary man from the party was his father. He was terrible in piecing the puzzles together. "Exhausted." "Eat up sweetie to replenish yourself. This soup is light, but hearty." His eyes cast down at the small white bowl of pale yellowish pond with big chucks of orange and brown. He shook his head again. She frowned, but got up from her seat and took a chair next to Keith's and sat down close. She grabbed the spoon on the table and carefully dip the spoon in the broth with few stirs. With careful scrapping to remove excess liquid, she held the spoon up to his mouth. "We can do two ways, little one. Either I can feed you or I can call my son in to feed you. I'm sure he would oblige happily to feed you." He shook his head fast and quickly took the spoon in his mouth as she pulled it back. Keith swallowed the flavorful broth. "It's not so bad now, is it?" He can tell now where Lotor got his snarky personality and brain from. She continued to feed him until the bowl was empty. She smiled when she saw Keith's content look and placed her hand over his forehead. "You're family now. You're not alone anymore and I won't let you deal with the heat alone. I can sense that you're not ready to spend it with my son yet." Keith can only nod in agreement. "You two are still young and new to this. I'm here for you little one. I will be with you to guide and help through this heat." "Where is Lotor?"

Keith found himself missing the idiot Alpha these past few days. He was avoiding Keith like he was the plague. Or maybe Lotor was being nice to stay away from him during his heat. The last thing Keith wanted was Lotor pouncing him when he wasn't ready. "He is spending his time with his father and having their usual talks. Aww'd~ You miss him already."

"No! I don't miss him! Just curious where he went. That's all!"

You're cute when in denial of your true feelings. I can see why Lotor worked hard his butt off to win you over.

"Tell me little one, have you ever thought of your future?" He cracked open his eyes, but it felt heavy to stay open. "I have, but not much thought about settling down." "How come?" "I don't know honestly. I'm so used to do many things independently that I didn't need to have someone." "You're afraid of commitment." "I didn't expect to encounter someone that can be so persistent in wanting to be with me. I thought he was blind and crazy." She chuckled with hand stroking his bangs. "You surprised us, little one. It was a first to see our son feel the attraction and working harder to win an omega's affection." "I don't get it." "Love is not easy to explain of how it works. It just happens. To Lotor, it was your smile. How about you, little one? What made you changed your mind?" "... It was his scent." Her hand went over and caressed his cheek. "You're the best partner that I can ever ask for my son." "...." Keith choked back on his sudden sobbing and found himself resting against the woman's embrace. He had long forgotten of how comfortable and warm a mother's embrace was. It was so long as he found himself snuggling against her chest with her fingers sliding through his hair. He wasn't alone anymore.

"Father." "Lotor." Another pause of silence. "I assume Mother is currently with Keith." "She's the perfect person who can make your mate feel at-ease during his time of sudden changes. It can be overwhelming if he is not used to the changes of his new environment." "Mother dotes him already with the way she took charge of his sudden move-in. She even bought clothes for him! How did she even know his sizes?" Zarkon chuckled. "She has her ways, but she can tell what he needs the most. However son, we are here to speak as Alphas and a father. I want to hear your future plans now that you've found a mate." Lotor sat back on the chair and closed his eyes for a moment. His eyes opened as he leaned in with his elbow rested on the table. "I'm not sure anymore." "Explain." "I had it all plan out how the future would be, but when we finally bonded, I felt stupid and inconsiderate." "Why is that son?" He looked at his free hand. "I can sense his feelings clearer than before. I was so focus on winning his heart that I didn't notice his internal conflict." "It is good that you were able to notice this early on. You did well to pull yourself away especially when it will be at his vulnerable time." "I wanted to have our relationship to last like you and Mother." Zarkon exhaled. "It's not perfect as you think, but we both work out our problems and differences through communication. There will be times where our emotions will get to us, but we both know when to speak up and learn how to say our apologies. We work with our differences." "Mother has told many stories how she had to hold your hands for a long time whenever Kova came close to you." "To this day, I can only tolerate Kova and her litters. All other cats are restricted within my presence." Lotor gave a sly grin. "You're afraid of them." He gave a deadpan look at his son. "We are not having another conversation about this. We are returning our conversation about your future. Do you wish to have a family of your own?" "I do, but I have not spoken about it with Keith yet. You have drill that long lecture in my brain about mutual consent and preparation." "Yes son. Speak with your mate. He will notice your genuine concerns and feelings about this matter. I did not raise you to have your primal urges rule your sane mind." Lotor nodded. "I've caught myself before it can happen." "It takes disciplines and patience to control, but the end results will be rewarding." "Thanks Father." "I'm only warning you ahead as your mate seems to have similar fiery personality as Honerva, but more openly." Lotor's brow quirked up as his Father took a drink of his coffee. So the rumor must be true. Will have to ask Mother later.

Keith hated nightfall. He can operate one-third normally in the day time, but when the sun sets, his heat overtook his body and rendered him useless. He was on his third day of his heat. About four more days to go. He would curled up or spread himself on bed in hopes to find some comfort to deal with the pain and fire of his sweating body. His thoughts lingered in thick fog of arousal. His body would demand extreme comfort and relief. It wasn't satisfied with his fingers only. It wanted more. It was clawing his brain to search out for his Alpha.

Lotor.

Lotor would take his time exploring his naked body to search out pleasure spots while showering him with affectionate words.

Beautiful.

Lovely.

Cute.

And so on. He would tease him mercilessly until Keith would give in. His moans became loud with his hands roaming around his lower half when the thought of being knotted by Lotor popped up. He wondered how it will feel inside his burning body. "Lotor." in his breathy voice. "My Alpha." It sounded so stupid coming out of his mouth, but he can no longer hold back his wants and needs. This heat was killing him. Keith whimpered as he tried reaching out the sudden comfort only to be push back down. Both of his wrists were pinned down and he was tilting his head up to grant access of his moist neck. His Alpha has came. Lotor gave soft coos and kisses against his neck then to his face. He smiled when he felt Keith's legs rubbing against his pant. His soft mewls were heaven to his ears. Keith in heat was epiphany of sin and desire. He was tempted to give what he wants, but not today. He will give him some comfort so his omega can get a decent sleep tonight. "Shh... I will give you some relief so you can sleep better. I want to speak with you in the morning about our future."

Has Lotor changed his mind? He doesn't want me no more now that he finished his fun?

And what future?

Wait. He said our future?

"Love." He kissed his omega's forehead. "I am not breaking up with you if that's what you were thinking. I want to hear your thoughts and feelings about starting a family together."

A family of our own?

"I cannot fulfill your needs as you are currently in the most fertile stage. I cannot knot you." He released one of his hands and placed it over Keith's stomach. He gave gentle massage rubs. "I want you to be ready. I respect your decision if you don't want to carry, but I just want to let you know how I felt." A kiss on the tip of his nose. "And I'm sorry for overwhelming you as of late. I was so focus on winning you that I didn't stop and think of your opinions and feelings." If Keith had the energy, he would have rolled his eyes, but he won't. He could sense the genuinely of Lotor's words. His blue eyes spoke louder than ever.

Love.

Lotor was so in deep with Keith that he didn't know how to respond. With one free hand, Keith reached out and pulled Lotor by the back of his neck as their lips made contact. He could feel his other wrist being released from the hold. His arms snaked around Lotor's neck and pulled him down until their chests were pressed together. Their kisses deepen with some tongue actions. It felt good. He could feel it. The passion and love from his Alpha. For the first time in his life, he could actually see a desirable future. A future with Lotor as his mate for life.

#keitor #keitorweek2017 #vld fic #vld fic: blind love #voltron #voltron legendary defender

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mittensmcedgelord · 8 years ago

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Cobalt

Another day. The same day. It's hard to tell.

A follow up to "Good Morning, Again". Awareness is setting in and questions are coming to the surface. Who am I? How many of me have there been? And how the hell do you even eat udon?

( Alternate Title: The Noodle Incident )

Previous: https://mittensmcedgelord.tumblr.com/post/161414852605/good-morning-again

“Good morning, Morgan. Today is Monday, March 15th.” The alarm clock starts its routine, but doesn’t finish before it hits the kitchen counter with enough force to break the case. I didn’t lay a finger on it. The implications should worry me more than they do.

The illusion crackles as I sit up. The TranScribe tells me it’s closer to midnight than 7 AM. Something somewhere glitches. My room, empty of everything but a few pieces meant to make the simulation feel real, comes into view. I wonder if I’ve seen it like this before. I pick up the broken alarm clock and turn it over in my hands. It’s an easy fix. Ten minutes, maybe. I can figure out why it went off at midnight while I’m putting it back together, too.

Except that isn’t what I do. I put the clock on the counter, get dressed, and head to the cafeteria. I realize halfway down the grav shaft that I haven’t bothered to shave or brush my hair and laugh. I’ve never needed to shave. I never will. I catch my reflection in the glass, red eyes and stubble and hair in all directions. This is either rock bottom or the apex of my efforts. Either way, it’s exactly right for getting instant udon at midnight.

I’ve never actually had instant noodles. I’ve eaten it before in the simulation. It’s one of my—well, Morgan’s—favorite guilty pleasures. So, it seemed like an important thing to try. Lucky me, the cafeteria is nearly empty at this hour. One or two people who look less awake than I do are sitting at a table near the coffee pot, completely absorbed in paperwork. The cook doesn’t even seem surprised that I’m asking for instant udon, which either says a lot about Morgan or about the crew in general. What greets me is a nest of long, tendril-like noodles writhing in unnaturally colored broth, which I now have to eat with a pair of tapered wooden utensils that seem wildly unsuited to the task at hand. Nonetheless, I am not daunted. I am determined to consume this meal. This is, as my memories serve, one of the most quintessential Morgan Yu meals that I can find. I even have a can of Kafe Karsk to go with it, just to ensure authenticity.

A few minutes pass as I stare down the plastic bowl, willing it to divulge its secrets. None are forthcoming. Before I completely give up and take the armload of rations to my room, I see Sho sit down with a tray of unagi rolls. I grab my food and sit down across from her before she realizes I’ve even moved.

“What the fuck?” She drops the chopsticks onto the table and starts to stand. Her hand moves to her hip for a minute before she sits back down. She looks like she wants to punch me. Wouldn’t be the first time if the reports are any indication. “You shouldn’t do that. There’s a shoot on sight order for anything Typhon-like.”

“I didn’t mean to. It just sort of happens.”

“Phantom shifting just happens. Sure. You are really creepy. You know that, right?” She picks up a roll with the chopsticks and pops it in her mouth. I move closer to inspect only for her to shift a seat over. “Seriously, between that weird stretching thing you did between chairs and this, I’m pretty sure you’re not convincing anyone that you’re actually human.”

“I was trying to see how you used the chopsticks to eat. I would have installed a mod for it if I could have.” I poke at a piece of dehydrated eel floating in the broth. “Trust me, I searched the entire company directory of recorded skills. There’s nothing there.”

“Of course there’s not a neuromod for eating noodles, Mim. I don’t think anyone’s ever needed it. And before you ask I am not going to help you make one. Just do what everyone else does. Swear at the cheap useless chopsticks and slurp it out of the bowl.”

“Mim?”

“Yeah. I mean, we need something to call you. So, Mimic Morgan. Mim for short. It’s even on your official classified files.”

“Why not just ‘Morgan’?”

“Because you’re not Morgan, not to the people who know better. I know Alex programmed you to think you are, but you aren’t.” She snaps the chopsticks together and points them at me. “And before you ask, that’s a good thing. I can guess what you’ve been told, but contrary to what Alex and Igwe say, the station wasn’t exactly falling over itself worshipping Morgan’s brilliance and charm.”

She leans closer and almost knocks over my soup. I sit rigidly in place, trying to pretend I’m not thinking about shifting into a more innocuous object. She’s looking for something, somewhere that I’ve cracked open and the darkness is seeping through. I’m not sure if she sees it or not, but she leans back. “Do you actually think of yourself as him?”

“Yes.” My answer is too immediate, too emphatic. She snorts. “Why wouldn’t I? I know I’m not the same person, but how does that make me any less Morgan than he was after so many neuromod removals?”

“Because I’ve seen the recordings of your simulation. The real Morgan wouldn’t have done half the stuff you did.”

“How do you know?”

“Because he didn’t.” She slams her hands on the table and my noodles spill. I start sopping up the broth with the bundle of napkins the cook gave me. She doesn’t seem to notice. “Because he didn’t do one single thing you did, especially not destroy the station to buy Earth some time. If he did, maybe we wouldn’t be here still studying Typhons on Humanity’s Last Resort.”

“What did happen?” I reach into the bowl with my fingers this time, pull out a piece of dehydrated eel, and eat it. I’m pretty sure this isn’t the texture food is supposed to have. It’s possible that I’m wrong, but the way Sho is laughing says I’m probably not. I’m starting to think that instant noodles, as a whole, might actually be an elaborate joke that I’m not in on yet. “You said Morgan didn’t do the same things I did in the sim. No one’s felt the need to fill me in on what actually happened yet.”

“This isn't a great time for this.” ”Why?” My voice crackles. I see Sho’s face contort at the sound. I take a breath, put my hands on the table in front of me, and try to relax my posture. I try to look as non-threatening as possible. She heard a Typhon; I don’t want her to see one. “Sorry. It’s just that it would mean a lot to me to know. We're the only people in the cafeteria at this hour, so you don’t have to worry about anyone overhearing. And I don’t think you’d accept an invite to my dorm to tell me about it in private.”

“Okay. Fine.” She sits back and crosses her arms. Her mouth is pulled into a tight line. Pain is written across her face. I get an image of Abigail in the freezer. Of the escaped volunteer and his brain decorating the walls of the malfunctioning escape pod. She doesn’t make eye contact. “So, what happened on Talos 1. It was close to the simulation you were in. I nearly died, but you knew that. I got through a hatch before I actually did die. Barely. I ran into a weaver and some cystoids on the way in. My suit was so damaged it read my vitals as deceased. But I had to get back. I had to make sure the bastard that killed her paid. There was never a volunteer named Ingram to be saved. The fabricator in deep storage never got up and running to make any turrets. We had to make do. Only six of us survived. You've met five of them, either in proxy or in person.”

“Alex, Mikhaila, Igwe, Elazar, and you. Who was number six?”

“Morgan.” She waits, watching my expression. The name was acid coming out of her mouth. There was no love lost there, in spite of the familiarity she’d shown me so far. “He survived. For a while. Turns out after all those tests he was almost as much Typhon as human. When he triggered the null wave generator it wiped out all the Typhon on the ship instantly, big one included, but with him it worked slower. It wasn't pretty, let's leave it at that. I didn't like Morgan, but he deserved better. Sure as hell didn’t deserve constant reincarnation as different Typhon.”

“Where do I come in?”

“After the world went to hell.” She pushes the last couple rolls aside. Any hunger I felt is gone too, replaced by something cold and heavy. Sho opens a can of Duck beer as she continues. It seems to do something for the hesitance she had earlier. “We didn't know a shuttle with a mimic on it already landed earthside. We tried to keep ourselves quarantined until we realized it wouldn't do any good. We fought. We ran. We mobilized. And once we were out here playing sentinel by the original breach, Alex started forming a plan. He used Morgan's memories of the outbreak as a base. Said that disaster response was the best way to judge actions. Project Cobalt started. ‘A human Typhon hybrid to bridge our species.’ It was Morgan’s idea, even back before the containment breech, but we’d never been desperate enough to try it before now.”

“How many were there before me?”

“Too many. We were going to scrap it soon. The mirror neurons weren't activating, not without a lot of intervention. And then you came along. You used all the Typhon mods you could find. You helped everyone you met. You tried to save us all. In a way, you were too human to be a real human. Alex said one of the variables was changed, but they changed every test. So, who knows. Maybe we just got lucky.”

“What was changed for my test?”

“Beats me.” She sighs and throws her hands out in front of her. The universal sign of ‘I’m done with this conversation’. The night shift is getting off pretty soon and the morning shift is getting ready to go on. Sho gives her now warm unagi rolls an annoyed look and pushes them to me. “There were a lot of variables. All classified. You’d have better luck asking Dr. Igwe.”

“Thank you.”

“Nothing a quick trip through the station’s history wouldn’t tell you.” She knows that isn’t the truth, but she shrugs it off like nothing anyway. I start to say something and swallow my words. There’s a shield around Sho’s mind like the kind a psychoscope generates, only this one’s not solid. It’s a mile of empty, unforgiving, airless space. She didn’t die outside the station like she did in the sim, but something did. Someone did. The woman talking to me is as much Danielle Sho as I am Morgan Yu. Finally, she breaks eye contact and grabs the half full beer can. “Last word of advice? Try to keep the Typhon powers low key. I’m not sure how many people actually believe the bullshit official story behind Morgan’s miraculous reappearance.”

Somewhere a chime sounds and the graveyard shift starts. She heads off to her station, beer still in hand, and doesn’t look back. That leaves me with her advice, her leftovers, and my now cold udon. Not to mention the host of new questions.

Alex never told me how Morgan died. Or when. I never really thought about how everyone accepted that I was here. The ones who don’t know about Project Cobalt just think I’m the second Yu sibling, a little worse for wear but not dead or inhuman. Sho knew. The survivors of Talos 1 know. I guess the better question is how no one else does.

The TranScribe beeps at me and shakes me out of my daze. The clock rolled back. The scheduled messages for 7 AM have are queued. The date is March 15th, 2032.

I hit the calendar button for the first time since I got it and tell it to synch with the station’s clock. I don’t know what date it finally registers. It’s forgotten in one of the pockets on my uniform by the time the update is done.

The udon is cold. It tastes like how eating instant noodles and a can of coffee alone at 1 AM feels. It isn’t good, but it’s familiar.

#prey #prey 2017 #fanfic #spoilers #dear god the spoilers #mimics and eels and coffee oh my #does this count as an au?#thank long suffering tauren for the alt title

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xvii-chapters · 8 years ago

Text

PRIDE || MAFIA!Seokmin [Chp 2]

BLURB: Sometimes we put on facades to seem stronger than we are, when all we need is someone to tell us they will hold our hand through it all.

GENRE: mafia!au, action, mystery, family

WORDS: 2752

PART: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

For the record, you had tried very hard to resist the invitation.

This was the mafia for goodness sake – even your hunger-induced brain couldn’t deny it was dangerous and probably an even stupider idea than Wonho’s failed heist. But if it meant you could sink your teeth into some fresh bread or suck on a succulent piece of grilled chicken before dying from the poison they put in it, you honestly didn’t mind. You liked living but you liked food more.

That thought had you contemplating your priorities but not for very long.

The smiling boy was still smiling at you.

“So?” he prompted.

“Fine,” you said, but tried to sound as reluctant as possible.

His grin grew impossibly wider and he jumped a little on the spot.

“Yay!” he said, before grabbing your wrist and pulling you deeper into the alley. Before you had enough time to start panicking again he stopped in front of a sleek black car perfectly concealed in the shadows. He opened the passenger seat and gestured you inside. It felt odd; no one had ever opened the door for you. Then again, it had been a long time since you last sat in a car. It was always the inside of vans or the open-top backs of trucks for you. Your single car trip was when social services drove you from the orphanage to your foster home.

You strapped yourself in just as the boy – Seokmin, you had to remind yourself – climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine. Then he was pulling out of the dark alley and into the streetlight flooded roads of downtown Seoul. For the first time, looking out through the glass of a car window, it looked beautiful.

“Wow,” you couldn’t help but breathe.

“I know, right?” There was a look of calm on Seokmin’s face. The guy could hold a mean poker face but you’ve learned from young that there was a telling point in everyone’s features and for him it lay in the eyebrows. Right now they were resting straight and relaxed. “I love the streets at night.”

“You wouldn’t be saying that if you actually had to live on them.” The words spilled out before you could stop them.

Startlingly, he chuckled. “You would be surprised. I know about it more than you think.”

“Do you really?” you said with spite.

“I do.” His eyes were fixed on the road but the certainty in his words made it feel like he was looking straight at you. You looked away, choosing instead to focus on your hands and the way they curled around the leather seat, the material soft beneath your touch. It was worn but it was luxurious none the less. Outside, the city whipped past. Trees came into view.

Internally you were freaking out that he might be driving you to the top of a hill just to shoot you but when he looked over all you gave was a cool and calm expression.

Before you knew it the car was driving up a worn dirt path, low-hanging trees lining each side. The branches scraped against the windows and above, larger trees grew upwards to the sky, blocking out most of the light. The car stopped in front of a high-tech gate which slid open at a signal you couldn’t pinpoint – Seokmin didn’t even roll down the window. He continued driving up the path towards a looming mansion then turned a bend into a gigantic garage. You were too awestruck to realize you had completely forgotten to memorise the route here – that is if you even made out alive tonight to tell anyone – and when you did, you wanted to kick yourself.

Seokmin paused unbuckling his seatbelt. “Did you just mentally kick yourself?”

“No,” you scowled, crossing your arms and sinking deeper into the seat. Seokmin just shrugged and got out of the car, and for the second time that day you wanted to kick yourself. You were acting like a brat – the moment he got sick of your shit you might just as easily find a gun pointed to your forehead. You quickly followed after him, hoping his bullshit-o-meter wasn’t already close to full.

You forgot all about keeping cool the moment you walked through the door.

“This is your house?!” you exclaimed, looking around in awe at the high ceilings and expensive art that covered every inch of available wall space.

“Well I share this house with the rest of the guys, but yeah, we do live here.”

“It’s huge!”

“There are over thirteen of us.”

“There are eight of us with Wonho but we live in an abandoned underground train station with only four beds.” You had moved over to the living room and gaped at the endless rows of books that covered the walls. Then you spotted the game console. You turned to Seokmin excitedly. “Can I play that please please PLEASE? I won’t break it I promise, Wonho just never lets me use his and yours looks so much cooler.”

Seokmin chuckled, going over to ruffle your hair. “Hey don’t do that.”

“Can’t help it you remind me of Chan, ‘cept he’s all big now.”

“Chan?” you asked carefully. Hey if Seokmin was just going to give out free information about the others living here you’d take what you could get.

“Yes Chan, codename Dino. He’s the one running on the streets, talking to people, finding intel about you guys.” Well that was a lot more information then you expected to get. Seokmin had started walking back outside and now looked over his shoulder at you. “And don’t think I don’t know you’re trying to play spy. It won’t work – you can’t remember everything.”

“Hey!” You were offended. You especially hated it when someone said you couldn’t do something. Seokmin didn’t even seem to hear you. “Come on, let’s walk around first before dinner,” he said, “We can play later.” You vowed to remember everything about this house even if you had to forget your name to do it.

He pulled you into room after room and told you the names of every person you passed by, codename and role in the mafia included. It’s like Seokmin enjoyed watching you struggle. Everyone smiled at you but warily, and in return you gave them your wildest grin just to throw them off. It didn’t really matter to you though. You were actually only here for the food.

“We’ll go to the library next–”

“Oh!” The next thing you knew you were on the floor, nursing a bump on your ass. A girl looked down snootily at you. “Watch where you’re going there, idiot.”

Instantly anger heated your chest. You shot to your feet. “Excuse me? I’m the idiot?”

“Yes, you are.” The girl looked back at you incredulously. “Did you see anyone else on the floor while you were there?”

“You knocked into me!”

“So now it’s my fault you’re an idiot?”

“WOW WOW, hey!” Seokmin grabbed your arm before you could swing it right into the girl’s pretty (fake) little nose. “Let’s not break things on the first day.”

“She just called me an idiot I wanna fight.”

“Well she’s certainly got spirit.” In your anger you hadn’t realize there was someone else there in the hallway with you. Your anger simmered down when you spotted the curly haired boy currently assessing you. He looked like he had a much smaller bullshit-o-meter than Seokmin and you were suddenly acutely aware of your place. Still you tried to play it cool. You pulled your arm from Seokmin’s grip and huffed. “And who might you be?”

“I’m Seungkwan, I live here. Who are you?” The girl looked back at you smiling smugly. Two could play at that game.

“I’m Y/N, I live in an abandoned subway station. Who’s the bitch?”

“Why you��” The girl made to lunge at you but Seungkwan already had his arms around her and was pulling her away. He whispered something into her ears and she stopped fighting, stomping off somewhere still glaring at you. You stuck out your tongue at her retreating figure.

Beside you Seokmin was strangely grinning excitedly. “What’d I tell you!”

Seungkwan just rolled his eyes like he was exhausted. You pitied the guy – he had to deal with such a prissy princess. “That’s great and all but did you really have to bring her now?”

“Why not? Seungcheol said to bring her for dinner so here she is.”

“But not this one.” He had tried to keep it soft but it wasn’t really working. You weren’t really fazed though. You had been to plenty of places people didn’t want you to be at (including the juvenile prison once) but that didn’t stop you from sticking around anyway.

Besides, Seokmin had said that Seungcheol – whoever that was – wanted you here so that’s one more person validating your presence here.

“Seungcheol said “anytime” and it happens she was free today!”

‘This is actually the first time you’ve asked,’ you wanted to say, but you bit your tongue because it was clear Seungkwan didn’t know (or need to know) that.

“Whatever.” Seungkwan was already walking away. “But just so you know even Hyewon isn’t coming.”

“Like I care that she isn’t going,” but you weren’t sure if you heard that right or not. Seokmin was smiling at his friend’s retreating figure. He turned back to you. “So shall we?”

You told yourself you would eat only what you needed but then again who didn’t need endless amounts of chicken.

Seokmin watch you with a knowing smirk as you gorged on the food, slurping up soup and dipping the fried fish into 12 different sauces at once.

“It’s good right?” Seokmin asked. You mumbled something that probably came out as an affirmation.

“Yah eat slowly or you’ll choke!” You glared at him and continued eating. As you ate your gaze flit across the table and saw someone was watching you curiously. Probably at how messily you were eating. You glared and she quickly looked away. Not everyone was lucky enough to be raised in a good home with perfect manners so you excused yourself.

After the chicken and mains, a tall guy named mango are something came out from the kitchen and placed a large bowl of pudding in the centre of the table. Another girl placed cake next to it and someone else put ice cream in front of everyone.

Your eyes widened at the sights in front of you. You didn’t even care anymore that you looked kind of like a pig. Seokmin laughed at your expression. “Which one do I eat first?!”

“The ice-cream probably, since it’s melting.” Seokmin was already delving into his.

“But the cheesecake is melting too!” You looked sadly at the delicious creamy treat. “And I don’t know whether I can finish the ice-cream and the cake.”

“Then just eat the cake.”

“And lose out on ice-cream?” You looked at him in horror. “Never.”

Seokmin shrugged. “Suit yourself. But you’re dealing with the stomach-ache on your own.”

Stomach-ache be damned. You gobbled down the ice-cream that was closer to soup now, hogging the chocolate sauce every now and then. You made Seokmin grab you a piece of cheesecake – in your defence the table was wide and you were small – and somehow you managed to eat that too despite how full you already were from the chicken.

When Seokmin pushed a bowl of pudding towards you, you didn’t hesitate.

“Ughhhh,” you groaned after a while, slumped across your chair, “I’m soooo fullll.”

“I don’t think so,” Seokmin said pushing another piece of cake to your lips. “Just one more bite.”

You pushed his hand away, frowning, “You’re just fattening me up to eat me later, aren’t you?”

“I’m not a cannibal!” Seokmin dropped the fork indignantly. Almost everyone had left the dining table and only you two were left eating away at whatever remained. Well, you were still eating – Seokmin was mostly looking on in glee.

“Stop it!” you pushed away yet another bit of food he put on your plate. “You promised I could play on the console after dinner. Let’s go.”

“I don’t think that’s a very good idea.” You pouted. “You’ll puke.” He looked pointedly at you. “You’ll puke on me.”

“But you promised.”

“Maybe next time.” Seokmin grinned mischievously. “Why don’t we steal Jun’s motorbike and go for a ride instead?”

“HOLY HELL!” you yelled when you stepped off the bike. “THAT WAS AMAZING!!!”

“Right?” Seokmin grinned, helping you take off the helmet.

The moment it was off you spun in a circle, eyes bright with excitement. “That was the best thing I’ve ever done!” you continued to gush. “You wheelied! You fucking WHEELIED!”

“I did wheelie.”

“And you did that spin thing? Whatsitcalled?”

Seokmin shrugged. He really didn’t know. But he did know you got a major kick from all the stunts he did and it pleased him to no end that they made you so happy. You continued to bounce around enthusiastically, recounting all the things you did as if he hadn’t been there with you too and it was exhausting to watch but Seokmin had never seen someone smile that big in a while.

Eventually you settled down. It was quiet at the top of the hill. Below you, the city was spread out like a blanket of garish stars. You turned to him. “Alright, so what’s the catch?”

“What’s what catch?”

You gave him a light shove. “Don’t play dumb. Why are you being so nice to me?”

“Why can’t I be nice to you just because I want to be?”

“As much as I’d like to believe that, the world isn’t that fair and you guys are the mafia.”

Seokmin stiffened. “We’re not a mafia.”

“Of course you guys are–”

“We’re not a mafia,” he repeated. All the traces of amusement had fallen from his face and his lips curled into a frown. “We’re more than that.”

Something about the underlying tone in Seokmin’s voice had you thinking twice about mouthing off the way you normally would.

“Okay fine,” you said quietly. “But you still haven’t answered the question. What’s the catch?”

“No catch, I just wanted to be a Good Samaritan. Is that really so hard to believe?” There was a tinge of frustration laced in his voice – frustration that wasn’t directed at you exactly, but you felt it like little jabs to your skin. His brows were knit together in a sharp V and he was looking far away.

You didn’t say anything; the very fact that he was angry meant that you were right and there was something he wanted from you. So you waited for it.

Seokmin sighed. “We’d like to invite you to be part of SVT.”

You couldn’t help it – you burst out laughing.

Seokmin frowned like he couldn’t quite find anything funny about the offer.

“What makes you think I want to join you guys?” He frowned harder. “No offence but SVT isn’t exactly a very respectable establishment for me to get involved with.”

“And Wonho’s gang is?” Seokmin sounded hurt but you didn’t seem to notice; you were too busy chuckling.

“If anything I’ve heard about you guys is true, then yes actually.” You sobered up. “Wonho sure is a shit leader but all we do is petty theft. You guys… You are the kingpins. You trade, you sell – you play with blood. And I don’t want to be involved in that twenty years down the road.”

You took a step back. “So thank you? I’m macabrely honoured? But no thanks.”

You started to walk away.

“There’s another side to us you know,” Seokmin said quietly, “Believe it or not, we didn’t start out with the intention of being bad.”

Despite yourself you turned back around. He was talking to the ground face a mixture of frustration and… helplessness. It made you stop.

“It didn’t use to be this political.” He looked up. “And I could show you. But you need to agree to come with me.” He took a deep breath. “Please come with me.”

You stopped short.

You could articulate all you felt in that moment – how nice it was that someone was asking you about something, how your curiosity burned, how despite yourself, Seokmin didn’t at all look as dangerous as his reputation – but nothing could compare to the surge of that one word pushing through your lips.

“Okay.”

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burndownthehousetonight · 8 years ago

Photo

((Me and @tinyredartist are never gonna need a different banner for our RPs are we))

Aria was busy cooking away in her apartment. The smells of homemade soup, some roast and fresh bread filled the small, one room apartment, and wafted into the hallway. Manic and Scourge were coming over for dinner after returning from their honeymoon the day prior. She truly had missed her friends while they were gone, although she was glad that they had gotten a vacation to celebrate them.

Aria made a move to set the table, pausing as she counted plates. Would her Scourge be coming? She impatiently checked her phone for messages, but none from the king. The past two weeks had him acting strange. This past week was even worse. She only hoped that Mr. And Mr. Castillo had any idea how to help him.

Her phone buzzed with two texts. One from Terra who was on her break at work, and one from Manic. "We're almost there, dude." Manic's text would start. "We're just stopping to grab some food" There was another text almost as soon as Aria read his last. "Wait that's why we're coming over nevermind" Their van was hurrying away from the fast food restaurant they'd almost pulled into. Whoops. Their honeymoon had left them happy, relaxed, and completely satisfied. They were sad they were leaving, certainly, but they weren't sad to get back to their usual lives. Their usual lives, of course, inevitably leading into some kind of nonsense. But they weren't worried about any kind of nonsense just yet, only whatever Aria was cooking. And soon from Aria's window, she could see the headlights pulling up to her building. Aria rushed to get the soup plated and checked the roast. Dinner was coming along perfectly, and the cookies she had baked earlier as dessert were still warm. Everything was perfect.

Until she remembered that she was in nothing but her underwear and an apron. The mad dash switched from the food to some clothes, settling on a pair of leggings with her girlfriends shirt as a dress. The shirt was loose on the bat, so Aria nearly drowned in it, but it was fashionable and comfortable.

She finished the table with a place setting for Scourge, but an empty bowl. If he showed up, he could have some. When the door was opened for them, Manic greeted Aria with a strangely quiet hug. He let the sudden mushy moment hold for just a few seconds before pulling away. "That place was amazing," Manic said simply. "I get it's a wedding gift and it's not supposed to be big, but- You shouldn't have done that for us, dude." He just smiled warmly, his skin slightly tanned from their little vacation. Scourge responded with a pat on Aria's back of his own. "Smells great in here," he said simply as him and Manic entered the apartment. "Is the king coming?" Aria was surprised by the hug, but nonetheless hugged back. She had missed them both, and the king’s behavior only intensified that.

“In my family it's tradition to send the happy couple as far away as you can afford. That was the best I could do,” she joked, booping Manics nose with a finger.

Scourge was hugged as well, and Arias smile lit up. “Thank you! It was a lot of hard work bit I figured it was worth it! After all, I bet this soup will hit the spot. Tell me all about the resort-”

As she lead them to the table and rambled, she paused. Fixing the empty place setting she collected her thoughts.

“Scourge has been…. Acting oddly. Its an understatement by far but I can’t explain” "I mean, even if he was acting fine, he danced with a Fiona in a wedding dress, dude." Manic shrugged as he sat down. "And he just watched a different Scourge get married." "Maybe he's jealous?" Scourge offered. "Not that petty, though. Heartbroken? Somethin' like that." They didn't know what else to offer. "Hey, we'll worry about that when he's here. Come on, there was a hell of a lot going on at that place! Oh god, where do we start...?" They let Aria finish up table preparations as they gushed over everything that resort had. A large pool and access to a large beach for some reason, a honeymoon suite with a gorgeous patio view, massages, scuba diving, bars and musical performances- they kept going on, listing more and more to seemingly no end. "...and they're supposed to be trained, but dolphins are terrifying as hell," Scourge said. "I ain't trusting 'em." “That’s not it. It wasn’t the wedding or anything like that… It's… It's just weird.”

She listened in as they described the vacations and how much fun they had. She was glad they had fun, but as they sat for dinner Aria seemed upset at the empty plate…

The soup was warm and inviting, and tasted like someone’s grandmother had cooked it. Aria ate her fill hesitantly, looking to the door every few seconds.

“He’s… Do you guys think I’m annoying?” "Annoying?" Manic put down his spoon for a moment. "What are you talking about, you're alright. What, just because you've got pep and energy and all that?" Manic smirked. "You think I ain't at least twice as annoying?" It was a delicious meal, and they were taking the time to enjoy it as much as they wanted. They couldn't ignore Aria darting her look to the door so regularly, and with the empty space at the table, it was clear why. "He's a king," Scourge delivered bluntly. "He's got responsibilities and shit, he's probably just busy. If a Scourge thinks someone's annoying, they'll tell 'em to their face. We ain't polite or nothing." “That’s not it… Its just hard to explain. He’s been distant and maybe I drove him away… Wouldn’t be the first time.” She shrugged. Appreciating the effort made by the two to cheer her up.

“Besides, when I called him to ask if he could grab something for me he sounded… Off. Overtly formal. Its just not like him… And Glare said he had nothing to do today… Maybe if you two talk to him he would feel better? It's just been really bad, its almost like he’s not the same person. Maybe I should have gone to try and de-spirit the old hall instead.” "Wait, he went in there?" Manic said, looking almost scared at that fact. "No wonder, that place is all kind of messed up- God, I'm thinking that and the wedding must've hit him hard. Maybe he's just coping." "It sounds like she's pretty sure it wasn't the wedding," Scourge commented. "We'll talk to him." "After dinner, of course." Manic said, already going to take another bite of roast. "Besides, we didn't even get to Rouge visiting. Yeah, one day, she just flew down and landed on our balcony... ..." They tried their best to stay away from talking about the king during the meal. And they had plenty stories about small luxuries and their usual less legal thievery shenanigans to keep her entertained, even if she was fidgety about the empty seat at the table. Aria smiled at stories that usually would have made her laugh, and remained neutral on stories that would have made her smile.

By the time the meal was done, Aria split the leftovers into a container for the couple to take home and a container to save for her mate when she returned from work.

Aria flopped on her couch, still distraught. Maybe ask about her art? Or work? Either way, the silence was uncomfortable. The green couple certainly noticed these changes in her behavior. They weren't just easy to see, they were blatantly obvious. "What's wrong, dude?" Manic asked. He put down the leftovers right on the table and sat down near Aria. Scourge took a seat on a nearby armchair. "You're acting a lot sadder than usual, did something happen?" Scourge pieced it together for Manic. "Exactly how weird's Scourge been acting?" “Extremely. He’s been… Forgetful, very forgetful. He forgot who I was until Glare explained it to him. Forgot Glare too. Forgot a lot of things, but he remembered you two… Just didn’t remember where you were… He’s forgotten technology too, he’s having troubles with his phone. I think his trauma is messing with his brain, or he hit his head… He’s also not wearing his jacket, which is incredibly unusual. And he ordered the old hall cleaned and refurbished in an incredibly unreasonable amount of time… He’s not himself. He’s not anyone I’ve ever met. The way he looked at me… I’ve never seen that before.”

She rubbed her arms and shivered. Clearly disturbed. Manic reached over and patted her on the shoulder. "That's insane," Manic said. "That's... I've got no idea. It doesn't even sound like him." Scourge just thought. His first thought was this was some kind of a long con. He acted kind for a long, long time, but played all his cards at once and was screwing everyone over to get... something. He was a Scourge, after all. But would saying that have helped? No, Aria was already disturbed. Doubt would just make things worse. "...Sounds to me like an alternate's in his place." Scourge said gruffly. "How tight's security in the castle, can we get in?" “No, not an alternate. He’s still got the scars from the broken glass. That’s our… My? Scourge. His just not himself. He has not reason to be acting this way…. He’s acting like a Sonic alternate or something!”

Ah, right. Things were backwards here. Scourges were good, Sonics were bad. Up was down, down was up, everything was a jumble.

“But it doesn’t make sense… Why would he remember you two and not me?" "He has to still remember you, somewhere in his head." Manic mused out loud. "Sounds like he's either acting like he doesn't, or he's completely lost it..." Scourge made a motion while Aria was looking away, telling Manic to stop with that line of thought. He shut up. "Talking about it's fine and all, but we ain't gonna get answers if we don't know what he's doing." Scourge said, shifting in his seat and ready to stand. "We're only gonna get answers by snooping around, and you've got the best snoop in the business." Manic stuck out his tongue in a goofy way, letting her know exactly who the snoop was. "You gonna want to come along? Or do you need to meet Terra without anyone knowing?" Manic was still trying to lighten her spirits just a bit. "Don't worry, we don't know a thing." “I’ll come with you two snoopers. Besides, she’s at work and won’t be back until much later… Let me just..”

Aria scribbled out a quick, romantic note to her lover and stuck it on the leftovers. Gently kissing the note to leave a lipstick stain instead of a signature. Their little ritual.

As Aria grabbed her things, her shirt would start to slide off her shoulder a bit, revealing quite a few subtle hickies, covered up to the best of Aria's ability. Manic didn't say anything. Scourge didn't say anything. But they saw. Oh, they definitely saw. The glare Manic was giving Scourge told him that he had so many jokes in mind for how they could tease Aria, but he was restraining himself with some tiny shred of restraint he had left. "Don't you dare tease her," Scourge growled at Manic, running his finger over one of the bite marks over Manic's shoulder helpfully covered up. "Or she's gonna find out about your 'hickies'~" Manic and Scourge were clearly not over the honeymoon. As though they were ever. They sat next to each other and kept flirting while they let Aria grab her things, and hopefully put on some kind of pants or proper skirt. Aria pulled on thick leggings under her mate's shirt and grabbed her purse and her phone. She turned the stove off and checked that everything was clean. Satisfied, Aria scratched over the portal and warped them to the castle.

It was quiet, Glare having gone home for the night as well as most of the servants. Aria walked right into the building and started looking around for Scourge.

“Scourge? Manic and Castillo are back from the honeymoon! I brought you dinner too!” The castle felt wrong this late at night. When all the servants were gone, it felt like they weren't supposed to be there. Like it was a crypt that some nosy grave robbers had stumbled into. They didn't go into the abandoned wing of the castle for plenty of reasons, but it was clear that some kind of big renovations were going it. The doors were opened, and there were scrapes on the floor showing that furniture had been dragged through and out of the entrances. But they weren't sure they ever wanted to even remember that old castle wing existed. He wasn't downstairs, by the looks of it. "Are you sure he's here?" Manic said. He couldn't explain what it was, but it felt like he was somehow insulting the castle by continuing to be there. The atmosphere had certainly changed, the whole castle now had the same disturbing feeling of being watched.

“Let’s check upstairs. Scourge?!?” Aria called out again, climbing up the main staircase

They passed by that mysterious door that was next to the bedroom again. Its mysteries were less intriguing but still concerning. Maybe something in there could help them? In their minds, if they were gonna be watched, they were gonna snoop right back at them. It was time to get down to work. "Let's split up for a hot minute and regroup right back here," Manic said simply. "No point searching through all these rooms one at a time, right?" "I'll stick with Aria," Scourge said. I.E., I'll stick with her and make sure she doesn't interrupt your trespassing. Manic started walking down the opposite way, creeping back the moment Aria couldn't see him from down the hall. A peep revealed a four tumbler lock. Not too hard, and there clearly wasn't an alarm system. He pulled a set of lockpicks out of his quills and started fiddling away, not needing a minute to get the lock to give way. With a spin of his hand, the lock was gone, and the door started to open. Aria passed by the bedroom, she knew he wasn’t in there because the door was open. Not dangerously out of place, but unusual. The study was empty as well, but books were strewn all over the place. All published within the last two years.

“Okay. The book on architecture makes sense, he’s trying to fix the castle. But economics? History? Warfare? This isn’t stuff he deals with. He's technically a figurehead, not ac-” Aria paused as she looked at a book, gulping as she read the cover. An old book. Older than the two hedgehog combined.

“How to regain your throne from the democracy” Aria read, instantly confused and concerned. “Why would he…”

The door swung open for Manic with a loud groan. Looks like the hinges needed oiling. When inside, turning the light on would reveal what should have been a nursery. A crib with a mobile hanging above it, a changing table, a rocking chair, a small bookcase with children’s books and a big box full of toys. On the walls, pictures hung of a much younger Scourge and a Fiona alternate. His Fiona. She was younger than the one Manic knew, her hair was longer and she had a bit more weight on her, probably from the pregnancy. A few pictures contained their son as well, a tiny indigo child, happy and healthy. He had his fathers eyes.

There was even a photo album on the table a bunch of pictures of Fiona and Luke, with writing explaining how the day went. Obviously it was written for Scourge, for when he got out of jail. Judging by the water droplets ruining the ink on the front page, he had not been able to read it.

This was yet another thing Manic should not have seen. Scourge said nothing to the books. He was all but convinced of his alternate Scourge theory, and this just hammered those points home. The crypt-like feeling of most of the castle was intense here. After everything he'd known of what occurred between Scourge and Fiona years before. The photos of Fiona and Luke weren't easy to look at. He'd seen enough Fionas to last a lifetime, and they were always slightly uncomfortable to seem if their relationship with Scourge was healthy or not. She didn't carry the same kind of edge to her looks, she almost seemed demure in the photos. Luke was utterly precious. He shared nothing in common with his son-in-law, but he couldn't help but think that this was somehow, somewhere, almost his husband's kid. There was a sorrow in the pit of Manic's stomach he didn't want to rid of. He couldn't bear to look at the papers talking about the day of his birth. The emotions from this room couldn't have been half as intense for Manic as they were for the king, but putting into word what this room felt like was maddening. He leaned against the wall, closed his eyes, and thought. He was out as soon as he collected himself, and sped down the hall to find the others. Manic ran right into Scourge's chest. Not his mate, the king they were looking for. And He. Was. Livid. Looks like Manic had been caught.

He would be dragged by the back of the vest, and pushed into the room. Castillo caught his husband, thankfully. The rage surrounding the king was justified, but completely different than what they had seen before.

“I found this little thief snooping around where he should not have been. Get a better control over your concubines and get out,” the king ordered Castillo, filled with quiet but deadly rage.

His tone and speech patterns were different, but this was for sure their king. He radiated power and fear and his presence demanded respect. Aria's ears pinned back, afraid. Motioning for Manic and Castillo to follow orders so she was the last one out. A buffer. Manic was perfectly compliant. He knew he'd screwed up. Aria was perfectly compliant. She was clearly terrified of the king. But Castillo wasn't terrified, and he didn't know exactly what Manic had found. All he knew was this wasn't the same king they'd talked to before, and he'd tried to lay his hands on Manic. "Of course he's a thief," Scourge growled, motioning for Aria to stand back. "You know he's a thief. What the fuck are you thinking, dragging him by the collar?" Scourge approached the king, grabbing him by the throat and clearly ready for a fight. "Touch my husband like that again, and I'll make you BEG for forgiveness." "Scourge, stop!" Manic yelled out, but he wasn't about to step in. One Scourge had a hell of a lot of power, he wasn't going to get between two. Scourge was taking the sudden hold on the king to look him over. The scars were real. He was the same height, same build, same everything, but not the same person. Had something happened to him? "I'm gonna let go, and you ain't gonna make any funny moves." Scourge demanded. "What happened to you?" “You Need To Work On Your Diction As Much As You Do On Your Threats.” He spat out, flipping them so Castillo’s back was shoved up against the bookcase, his feet off the floor and the king's hand on his throat, squeezing a lot tighter. His eyes had changed color, from a light blue to a deep, rich one. Only noticeable when one was super close to his face, full of malice and hatred.

But after a split second they lighted up and the king stumbled back, letting his alternate go.

“Holy shit Castillo, I’m so sorry, I have no idea what came over me!” He rushed out an apology, looking at his hands like they had betrayed him. He back up into the center of the room.

Aria held a hand out. Trying to calm him. “Easy there. Easy. Calm down”

The eyes switched back to the dark blue, although that went unnoticed. “Insolent Women. I Told You To Leave And Never Return!” He growled, grabbing Aria by the base of the quills and causing her to scream from the pain. There was a low, heavy thud and a sudden surprise in the king's eyes. The king fell to the floor, clutching where Manic had just bludgeoned him with a candlestick. Castillo jumped in and wrenched one arm behind the king's back. They didn't want to hurt him too badly. He'd done so much for Manic, he couldn't possibly hurt him too badly. But Castillo had completely different reasons, and a long bike chain he always kept on hand that was tying the king's arms behind his back in a heavy knot. Castillo knelt down in front of the king, lifting his head by his chin and showing off every one of his sharp teeth in a smug smile. "You almost had it." His voice was smooth, even flirtatious. "But your eyes are the wrong color. An' if you don't wanna see your guts, you're telling us where the real king is." The yelp that came when he was hit turned his eyes back to their normal icy blue. “Manic what the fuck?!”

The threats turned them back again, and his expression of pain turned into one of glee and sadistic pleasure. Whoever this was was enjoying the thought of being carved open like a thanksgiving turkey…weird.

“Go Ahead Boy. Spill My Guts In This Damned Room. But It Would All Be In Vain, Because You Will Never Talk To That Spoiled Brat Ever Again. Might I Suggest A Cat-O-Ninetails Whip? Scourge Always Was A Fan Of That One.” He laughed, malicious and evil.

He wasn’t expecting the punch across the face from Aria. Furious, stressed and all around angry, she took it out of the ‘intruder.’

The body on the floor yelped in pain. “Aria stop it! Ow! It's me!” When she did stop, the evil laughter started up again… It sounded familiar, where had they heard that laugh before? Scourge and Manic did nothing to stop Aria's beating. All Scourge was doing was keeping the false king's head tilted towards his own, peering deep into his mind. He was helpless, and Scourge wanted to watch when he would eventually give in. But he didn't see that. He saw the eyes change, sure, but not in expression. The eyes changed to a completely different color in a moment, before reverting back when Aria seemed to lighten up on her pummeling. Scourge's eyes were normally a friendly cobalt blue, but this was darker. The pupils almost looked more slitted, more sinister. This looked like the king for just a few moments, whatever was going on. "Whoever the hell you are, you ain't the king." He dropped his head and let it slam on the ground. Sure, it would hurt the body, but more importantly, it would hurt whatever this dark-eyed creature was. "So what are we looking at here? This some anarchy beryl situation, some kinda drug-drug interaction with chaos energy?" There was more pain to the back of his neck from Scourge's claws, in the hopes pain could somehow draw out the king's personality. "We're getting an answer outta you, punk, so spill it." He knew he could only get an answer out of the real king, if he could ever get him to talk. The king's body had passed out and Aria was panting from all of her overexertion, sniffling as she held back tears.

“That’s not how our beryl works. It drains life forces to charge and when they do charge they grant the used amazing power at the price of their body. This isn’t beryl…. But there’s one way we can test if this is Scourge.”

She called his phone and found it under the books, bringing it over and sitting next to the body.

“Each alternate has a unique fingerprint right? So this shouldn’t work if this guy isn’t our-”

A click from the phone. It unlocked.

“Okay… So this our Scourge…. Did you two hear the way he was laughing? That’s not normal…” "No, that wasn't him." Castillo grumbled. If it was the king, they'd need to make sure he didn't move. The tied king was placed sitting upright in the main study chair. "Sounds like he isn't the same guy we know, but if it's the same fingerprint... ..." "Is he going crazy?!" Manic could only react to the bizarre actions with angry shock. "That's like multiple personalities nonsense right there! One of his is a nihilist, one normal-" "Bullshit," Castillo shot back. "We'd know if he was really insane. Feels more like-" He coughed, considering stopping himself. "Scourge's are Scourges, after all. This could've been some kinda long con, an' he's cutting the act now." "A decade long long con?" Manic rebutted. "We've heard him laugh before, that wasn't his natural laugh! It sounded like- I don't know, but it sounded like someone else!" The two stared down, each adamant about their own course of events, before they came to the same realization. "It was that person... We heard that laugh when we were in the old wing." Manic uttered. Castillo’s theory just made Aria cry, but Manic's realization got her sniffles to quiet down

“Whatever is going on, that person knew about the whipping. No one in the kingdom knows about that except for us, Scourge and-”

Aria paled, looking over at the body in the chair. “That’s why he wasn’t concerned if Scourge got hurt and why he’s trying to take down the throne. That’s why he doesn’t know who I am but he vaguely knows you two and why he’s clearing out the old wing when Scourge was trying to get rid of it… Its-…”

Aria would feel blinding white pain as she was hit in the head with the butt of a sword. Seems like whoever was controlling Scourge's body had gotten free and was holding the swords tip to her neck as she laid on the floor, unconscious.

“Women Should Be Seen Not Heard. What A Shame She Figured It Out, She Would Have Made An Excellent Concubine.” The person controlling Scourge cooed. "Aria!" Scourge yelled out. He wanted to rush forward, but the sword was to her neck and he couldn't move any closer. They just wanted to restrain him, but this person was killing to kill either of them. That was very bad. There were two of them and one of him. That was very good. There was only one way this was going to be settled, but they needed to wait for the right chance to move in. "You admit it then," Manic responded through his fear. He reached into his vest and pulled out a switchblade knife, not bothering with fancy knife tricks and holding it firm in one hand. "How about we get a name before we finish this off?" Maybe if he taunted him with killing Scourge, this spirit would let them get in close... "Don't think we're getting an answer." Scourge picked up the first thing off of the nearby shelf, a blunt and heavy bookend. "We're never gonna find out this fucker's some anti Jules." “Good Boy. You Figured It Out. I Do Have To Admit, You Are Smarter Than My Insolent Son. You Probably Would Have Seen Less Of The Whip If You Were In His Shoes. Alas, The Past Is The Past, Nothing Anyone Could Do About It Now. I Would Advise You Boys Not To Do Anything Rash. Even If You Kill The Body, I Could Still Possess Either Of You. But Its Not Like You Could Even Get Close. I Have Made A Habit Of Killing People That Scourge Cares About.”

He grabbed a second sword, keeping the first trained on Aria's throat. “I Doubt He Told You, But I Can Fight Just As Well With Both Hands. Your Move Boy.” Despite being absolutely pissed at the spirit, Scourge wasn't going to make the first move. He could press down slightly and kill Aria in an instant. He was definitely unhinged, but he didn't seem like he would kill Aria out of the blue. No moves were made. "She's unconcious," Manic reiterated simple, sounding mildly annoyed rather than seething with anger. "What, you're seriously weak enough to want to stab someone when they're down? What happened to your pride, anyways?!" Scourge knew where he was going with this. It was insane and desperate, but it usually worked. Manic ushered the study door open. "If you wanna cut us up, get Ari out of the room and we'll fight you. We're just a thief and an addict, you're a king with plenty of weapons. What kind of king's afraid of fighting a fair fight, anyways?" “Tsk Tsk. Seems Like You’re Not Quite As Smart As I Thought You Were. Tell Me Boy, What Do You Think My Endgame Is?”

An odd question as Jules moved to seat himself in an armchair, his sword lightly nicking Arias throat.

“I Will Even Give You Some Help. Think About The Consequences For The Body And The Mind… If Three People Are Found Dead Where Three Have Died Before. Books About Warfare And Usurping The Throne. The Nursery Torn To Shreds. By The Way, Thank You For Unlocking The Door My Boy. That Was Awfully Nice Of You, Seeing As I Don’t Know Where The Key Is… Everything Is Falling Into Place To Make Him Seem Like The Unhinged One. His Fingerprints Are Everywhere On This Crime Scene. Even If You Run To Tell Someone They Won’t Believe You. I Have Covered Every Single Angle Of This And There’s No Way Out. Any Way You Slice It, I Won! And Now, Once I Get Rid Of You Three, I’ll Use His Biometrics To Regain My Body Using The Beryl.”

He laughed as Aria began to stir, moving the sword to pull her up by the throat. “Good Morning. Tell Me Child, How Would You Like To Die?”

Arias only response was to scratch at her neck to pry his fingers off, the king choking her tightly. She managed somehow, to spit on his face. This made the wicked king angry, and he dropped her. Wiping spittle out of his eyes gave Aria the break to crawl as fast as she could to Manic's side. The king had dropped his hostage and one of his swords, and was distracted for the briefest fraction of a second. Scourge saw his chance and rushed the King, grabbing his arm as he took his swing. The blade was mere inches from his alternate's body. Scourge grabbed his arm with both hands and wrenched it around, until it was in too uncomfortable a position to swing. Manic gave Aria a quick pat on the shoulder before darting across at the first opportunity. He kicked the fallen sword so it would slide towards Aria and far out of the possessed king's reach. Their goal was only to restrain the spirit, but he was taking so much control it was hard to see him as anything other than another threat to be taken out. The king broke free of Scourge's grips, Sword pointed at his throat before being swung in either direction, but the distance was fine. Manic had gotten what he came for, and after bundling it in the blink of an eye, Scourge's bike chain was tossed back to him. He swung it around in his hands a few times, sending it too close to who was once the king and sending a threatening snap far too close to his skin. He had a solid five feet of lead, much longer than the spirit's sword could reach. "Alright, asshole." Scourge said with a grin, clutching the chain in either hand like a garrote. "Let's fuck it up~" Manic had taken the snap of the chain to rush back towards Aria. "He didn't hurt you too badly, right?" The spirit merely looked amused, tossing the cape he had been wearing to the side. A whip hung from his belt and he pulled it loose, snapping it in the air to let it rest. A Cat-o-Ninetails, brand new.

“I Believe The Phrase Is ‘Bring It’,” the spirit taunted.

Aria shook her head no, thinking hard. What advantages did they have… Surprise. That was all.

“Scourge, be careful! He doesn’t care about getting hurt!” She called out, a plan formulating. “Manic, do you have any kind of loose powder on you? We need the beryl.” Manic patted himself down. Switchblade, phone, wallet, earrings, makeup- He didn't have much on hand, but he had a small container of setting powder on hand, which he handed straight to Aria. "Gimme a plan and we'll nap that beryl... wherever it is." The metal chain and whip collided in mid air, snapping briskly against one another and tumbling down. But scourge used the extra moment as the short whip fell to snap the chain straight back up in the air, only striking the king for a moment. Just enough to stun him and get Scourge in closer. The whip stung more than he thought it would. He was expecting a sharp pain, but the bits of metal made it sting much stronger than anticipated. Scourge winced in pain and stumbled a bit, using the wince to force himself to tumble forward. He just needed to get close enough to chain him up again...! “Gimme. Stay here and help Scourge if he needs it.” She ran out of the room unnoticed.

The evil king chuckled at the pain of the bike chain. The shorter whip gave him an advantage as Castillo stumbled in close enough. The next crack would send a shooting pain into Castillo's side. Followed by another. The next two on his hands, as Jules got in close enough to drag the other to the ground by the quills, foot pressing his head into the ground.

“I think you weren’t hit enough as a child. Well that can be remedied.”

His jacket and shirt were sliced off, exposing his back and Jules used the bike chain to loop around Castillo’s wrists tightly. A sickening crack as the whip hit bare skin.

Aria had run into Scourge's bedroom, shoving the bed away from the wall with all the strength she had in her. Behind it was a safe with biometric locks. The powder and a cloth allowed her to bypass the fingerprint by using the oils from the last fingerprint to scan. The retina scan was actually set for her, rosy or Glare. A new addition.

Inside was a case. She pulled it out and instantly felt sick from the life draining magic. Regardless she ran back to the study.

“Is this what you were looking for?” She taunted, holding up the cape for the king to see. Manic was sick at seeing Scourge chained up like he was. And the whip- God, the whipping. Scourge bit hard on his own teeth, trying not to give in and wince at the sharp pain as they waited for Aria to get back. "You bastard...! You BASTARD!" Manic had lost it entirely. He didn't even care about pain anymore. Manic grabbed the first thing to his side - a fragile lamp, not that good - and chucking it square towards the king as he rushed him. The lamp did little damage as the glass base shattered and littered the ground. Tiny superficial cuts to him and his husband, nothing more. But Manic wasn't out for mild infury, and he wasn't out for restraint anymore. He was out for blood. Manic held the king down to the ground with either hand, his grip on Scourge's neck getting tighter as he listened to that hideous laugh... Scourge brushed off the pain the best he could and loosened the chain from his grips. He reached out for the king's hands, grabbing his left and desperately clutching for his right as Manic loosened up his hold. They just had to handcuff him more severely, and- Aria's entrance startled all of them, and the power he could feel told Castillo exactly what was draped under that cape. "Good job, kid." Scourge grunted, not letting go. "Toss it to us... Now!" Aria stumbled a bit, already weak from carrying the Beryl for so long.

Aria dropped like a stone, the beryl falling out of the case and scattering around the room. They slowly began to circle the room, focusing in on Scourge. Not Castillo, the king, who started laughing manically.

“Its Too Late Now!! Its All Over!” He shoved the other two off with surprising strength as the beryl circled him.

He parted from Scourge, manifesting in a translucent form as Scourge's body dropped. The beryl spun faster and in a blinding light, Jules set foot on the ground, his body back.

“Ah, Its Feels So Good To Be Me Again.” he cooed, voice obtaining an echo like quality to it.

Scourge groaned on the floor, weakened badly by the beryl and assuming he was having a nightmare. All bets were off. Scourge desperately unwrapped the chain from around Scourge's wrists, desperate to get his weapon back. One sword was all the way across the room from him, but the other was scattered near anti-Jules feet. Jule's whip was quickly kicked away, hopefully out of the true king's line of sight. Manic lunged to grab the sword, but it was already in his enemies hands, and he scuttled back away from the figure as soon as he saw him go for it. "Alright, so what's your endgame now?" Manic taunted, already knowing the true answer. "Point is, it's one on four now." "And your little immune spirit bullshit's worn out." Scourge said, chain whipping around in his hand. The chain he was spinning around was let loose, delivering a single harsh blow to anti-Jules's neck. The end of the chain had been knotted up into a ball as a makeshift flail. Manic grasped the large sword in both hands, Scourge his trusty chain as the two approached their newly mortal adversary. "Got one last question for you, asshole," Scourge snarled at him. "How do you wanna die?" Aria got up off the floor, panting.

“Knock the beryl out of formation, but don’t touch them!!” She called out, using a heavy book to knock one of the beryls to the ground.

Jules laughed at her pathetic attempt to hit him until he flickered back to translucent for a split second . The evil king growled out, realizing his power focused itself around the beryl.

While no one was looking, the true king got up shakily, grabbing his favorite rapier. He weighed it in his hand and turned to his father.

“Stand down. This is my fight.” He ordered, back to normal. Manic followed instructions immediately. He was backed away near where Aria was, looking around him for anything he could throw. Books, bookends, paperweights, anything heavy enough to heave and get the beryl stones out of formation. Castillo followed directions... somewhat. But those beryl were looking irresistible to him. He already had a chain in hand, he just had to... how could he make that slipknot? Could it even work with a chain? But by some stupid attempt and a lucky throw, the chain was wrapped around a large purple stone, immediately dragging it back to Castillo. The power ate at him in a way a Scourge could not only stand, but even enjoy. He wanted to keep this for himself, take over, prove his worth. A particularly heavy book managed to knock another stone far enough away that Castillo was able to lunge and grab it before it tugged back into formation, as both stones now begged to do. "This is our fight," Castillo insisted, forcing the yellow stone into the king's hand. He spun the chain around in his hands so the heavy knotted end was spinning in his hands. "Let's fuck it up." Aria slid the case and the other beryl to the true king, and Scourge put the two they had obtained in there as well. The case clicked closed and Jules was left with four circling him.

“INSOLENT BRAT!” The father called, running at his son with his sword drawn.

It was interesting watching the ensuing sword fight. Scourge was fighting fencing style and Jules was swinging to damage. The fight pushed them backwards and Scourge used his free hand to slap one of the beryls to Castillo.

Jules reached down and grabbed his whip smirking as it cracked. Scourge froze in place and felt his stomach drop. Castillo knew that just locking the beryl away wouldn't stop these other three. There was only one way to fight anarchy beryl, and that was with anarchy beryl. He threw off the halved shirt and jacket he had left on, clutching the red beryl with a death grip and the chain in his other. Pure anger stopped him from feeling the decaying feeling as anything other than a mild annoyance. The powers it granted were a strange focus, like everything had gone robotic in his mind. The chain swirling around in his hand was swirling faster and faster, with greater and greater energy while he built up strength. The first blow knocked a green stone out of the air and towards Aria, with only two circling stones remaining powering the old king. The second blow was square to Jules's left temple, sending a splatter of... was that blood? It almost looked right, but the consistency was strangely off, strangely discolored. The power of the beryl was weakening on Jules. "Let's finish this up...!" Castillo screamed, rushing Jules as he tied a simple slipknot out of the chain...! The power of the beryl was also making the king stronger, and the crack of the whip against Castillo's face was immense. He couldn't tell how much damage it had done, but he knew that his right eye hurt like hell. He tumbled to the floor, dropping his chain and trying his damnest to clutch to his stone with the energy he had. Scourge snapped out of it as he watched Castillo take a strike from the whip. This made him angry. Bright white flames licked at his feet, appearing from nowhere.

In the corner, Aria groaned and curled into a ball. She had been weakened by the beryl's case, and the jewel so close to her wasn’t helping. Aria whined pitifully for the king's help. “Scourge…”

Old rage boiled up again fanning the flames that licked at his feet and enveloped him. His eyes turned black, his quills turned white. His skin lost its color.

Jules was grabbed by the throat and slammed against the wall incredibly hard, yet Scourge barely broke a sweat. The three onlookers in the room could feel the energy exuding from the king as he held Jules against the wall. Castillo covered his eye with one hand and seemed to be panting like a predator desperate to sink it's fangs into it's prey, but the could tell that would have been entirely stupid. But like a miser desperate to take his valuables to the grave, he lunged at the chest of beryl stones, grasping that last one abandoned near Aria desperately. He threw them against the far wall of the room, as far from Aria as they could go while the other Scourge's power only intensified. The bright light in spite of the sudden violence was bizarrely entrancing, almost beautiful to Manic. Jules was as good as dead. If Scourge couldn't deliver the final blow, Manic knew he was going to end up with blood on his hands. Aria was out. Scourge was out. Manic was the only one who could stand up and help the king. He approached the two, standing behind as close as he could get without feeling overwhelmed by the power being generated. He held his switchblade out from behind the two, close enough that only Scourge could reach it. But in Manic's mind, he knew Scourge probably wouldn't need a weapon. "End it." Jules choked and gasped, involuntarily scratching at Scourge's arms to get him to give him air. The king threw the other out of the room and followed him, ignoring Manic. His hand reached out and his rapier came to him.

A beryl was locked away and Jules was left with only one surrounding him. His body began to fall apart like a scene in a horror movie. His skin melted away, his bones clattered to the flood and turned to dust, it all vanished until Scourge was left holding the ghost of his father. His sword glowed with the same white fire he was surrounded in, and he smashed his father across the face with the butt of the hilt. The flames grew and Scourge slashed through his shoulder, the spirits arm falling away like paper.

The ghost king screamed out in pain and Scourge growled, low and with an echo like quality.

“That was for Castillo!”

Slice. The other arm off.

“That was for Aria!”

Slice. A leg

“That was for Manic!”

Slice. The other leg.

“That was for Miles!”

Slice. Cut off at the waist

“That was for Luke!”

Slice. Higher up on the chest.

“That was for Fiona!”

The sword rested against the ghost king's throat, and the king growled.

“And this is for you. Goodbye FATHER”

The spirits head was sliced off, and the rapier was stabbed through his heart as the last beryl fell on its own.

The spirits scream was cut short, and the flames died away as Scourge sunk to the floor and cried.

It was over. They could only stare through the door as limb after limb was removed. Every slice was personal, furious, ladened with decades of anger and lit up by supernatural flames. And as quickly as it started, it ended with Scourge's tears echoing through deathly quiet halls. The anarchy beryl was powering Castillo, and the pain in his eye subsided slightly, although it was far from healing. He opened the case, and started to collect the scattered gems. One in the corner of the room. One behind the desk where the ghost stood. Just gathering them quickly so no one else would have to deal with the burden. Manic pocketed his knife as soon as the awestruck paralysis had worn off. He'd done it. He'd ended everything. Every one of his slow steps was intentionally louder than usual, to give the king fair warning as he approached. He didn't deliver words of wisdom or congratulations or anything, his pep wasn't going to help. And the few jokes he wanted to crack to lighten the mood were so out of place, even he knew they would only ruin things more. He said nothing, in fact. Scourge would soon find himself with his head rested on Manic's chest, giving him some kind of a tangible being to cling to after his ordeal. He hummed a soft melody, although where these notes came from or what they meant, Scourge had no idea. It was elegant, it was simple, and the gentle humming sent comforting vibrations, like a purring cat comforting it's kittens. Aria stood on shaky legs, grasping the door for support. After telling Castillo where to put the case, she stumbled over to the two of them. Aria sat on Scourge's other side and merely hugged her king as well. Her purring added to Manic's song.

After a little while, Scourge gently pulled back and wiped his face, sniffling in order to calm down. “M'okay… M’ okay” he slurred.

The castle's atmosphere returned to normal quickly and eventually Scourge got up to walk downstairs.

“I gotta… Go to…” He mumbled, clearly trying to head outside. Aria heaved herself up using a banister and when Castillo returned, they followed him. Manic stood next to aria. She was holding her own more, but she clearly needed any kind of support she could get. Castillo could see much of the same weakness in his alternate, following him at a close distance. There was no telling when he might tumble, cry, faint, anything. "You actually touched the beryl?" Manic asked Aria quietly, holder her by her shoulder. "That's amazing... We've touched beryls once before, and I couldn't stand it." There was a soft pat on her shoulder. "You're a strong girl, Ari." Castillo had no idea what could have been going through the king's mind. Whatever it was, it was intense, he knew that much. But questions would have to wait until the king was substantially calmer. He didn't say anything, but quietly walked and offered him a comforting look. Their victory march through the castle was weak, depressing, and yet somehow serene. “I feel like shit.” She groaned, leaning heavily on Manic to get the world to stop spinning. Her hair had turned white at the roots and her eyes had lost some color. Nothing a good nap and a bottle of hair dye couldn’t fix.

To Scourge, the victory march was mostly a walk of shame. They left through a side door that Castillo had never noticed and Scourge went straight for the forest. After a few minutes of walking, they came across a clearing with a manmade little river running through it. In the center were two ageing gravestones of white marble, plain but elegant. He went to a small spot next to the little creek and sat next to a tree stump.

“Sorry. I just needed to come see her.” "Do what you've gotta," Scourge said quietly. He stepped back, standing with Aria and Manic. Scourge clearly needed space. There weren't benches or seats or anything. Instead, Manic held tight onto Aria and guided her so they were both sitting on the grass. Castillo relaxed into his normal position, as though nothing had happened. Someone needed to stay casual. Castillo couldn't deny that the power of those stones was enticing to him. But now wasn't the time to think about these things. He didn't say a word to Manic as he comforted Aria and ruffled her hair. He didn't say a word to Aria as she took time to regain her posture. He only glanced from far away as Scourge took some time to meed with his Fiona. Aria purred quietly, laying back in the grass and breathing in clean air. This place was sacred in a way, truly felt like a place filled with love.

The stress melted away from the girl and the king merely let his fingers dangle in the water of the stream where fish swam. Thinking. His rapier discarded by his side.

“I'm… Sorry.” The king finally said, to no one in particular. There wasn't a response. The cold castle walls were imposing, especially with the spirit present. The forest might have felt similarly cramped. But this clearing was quiet, welcoming, serene. The grass was healthy, the fish content. After such an avalanche of emotions, the chance to sit somewhere this pleasant almost felt like whiplash with how suddenly everything shifted. He wasn't saying anything else. Castillo bit the bullet and stood to his feet. The rustling of his jeans was audible over the gentle ambience. Castillo slowly knelt a short distance from the king. "How're you holding up?" Scourge took a deep breath. “I don’t know… I feel… Lighter. Like this big weight was just lifted off my shoulders… How’s your back?”

He pushed the other around gently so he could inspect the marks. They had healed mostly from the beryls powers.

“You’ll be fine, you’re tough,” he said with something that might be considered a smile, patting his back gently. "Never worry about me," Scourge said as he turned to face his alternate. His right eye was bright red and scratched, but didn't look like it had any damage beyond a scratch. "I've had worse." He sat for a moment, not sure what else to say. When he came to a certain realization, he started to grin. "Maybe I shouldn't be walkin' around without a shirt?" He clearly didn't take any kind of shame from that comment. Scourge held him by the arm and helped the king to his feet, leaning over to grab him his sword and put it back into it's holder. "The worst of it's over," he said, trying to be gentle without sounding too soft. "Put your sword away, we'll lock up the beryl, we'll clean the study. You call up your doctor or friends or- whoever the hell you need. Get your brains in order." He looked up at the sky, not sure what else to say. Tiny specks of starlight dotted the midnight sky. "Gorgeous view." “Easier said than done. Not many therapists believe in ghosts.” He shrugged, looking up at the sky with a soft smile.

“Yeah, Fiona loved it here. This was our spot, our sanctuary. She loved sitting near the river to listen to the sound but this spot has the best view of the stars. I dug out the little river for her to give her both.” He recounted, smiling up at the wide expanse of the universe.

“I’m sorry for dragging you and Scourge into this. Seems likes you all get hurt because of me on the constant.” Aria said to Manic, staring up at the stars. "Don't apologize for anything," Manic reassured her. "You didn't wanna see us getting attacked, anyways. You're fine, dude." Manic flumped back first onto the grass and stared up with the others. The gaze they shared at the starry void held as everyone tried to collect their thoughts about everything that had just occurred. Theyer wasn't much they could say to make anything better. "We'll find you someone," Castillo assured the king. "If they exist, there's gotta be one out there who'll believe. An' you know we're here to listen and talk." It was the least he could do to comfort him. Comfort... "We've got some of Aria's home cooking at her place. Wanna hop over for some comfort food?" Aria rolled onto her side and closed her eyes, listening to the sounds of nature. The songs that the wilderness sang were her childhood lullabies and the open sky was her blanket. The tranquility was needed.

When her name was spoken she perked up. “Did you call me?” She asked the green duo.

“Yeah, he said you made dinner… Thanks kiddo. It means a lot.” He ruffled Scourge's quills and they all walked over to sit on the soft grass for a few minutes while Aria regained her strength to portal them to her home. When Scourge was on the grass, Manic gave him a comforting pat on the shoulder. He didn't have Castillo's problems with looking mushy, and if the king didn't have his back injuries, he probably would have pounced and given him a large comforting bear hug. But it was enough. Castillo sat down with Manic, and Manic ended up reclining against his lover. "My cooking ain't that bad," Castillo offered after a while, letting the cool air brush over them. "I could whip somethin' up fresh. What's a good comfort food, anyways? Mac and cheese?" "You aren't cooking it," Manic interjected, trying not to sound too goofy, only light-hearted. "I can boil water without starting a fire." "Fine, but Aria's gotta hide her paint cans first." Manic gave him a playful punch in the arm. Sure, they felt a bit overwhelmed by how much had just happened, but Scourge and Aria didn't need to see that. Anything to make them feel better. The word ‘whip’ made Scourge wince a bit, but he hid it.

“Well I mean, I’m all ready to warp whenever you wanna,” she insisted. “I don’t want to eat paint can spaghetti!”

“Seconded. Let’s go!” The king insisted, helping everyone up. He hung behind as the others went on ahead, gently kissing his fingers and pressing them to the two graves. They could rest finally. And so could he. Manic pretended to peek behind and look at what the king was doing. "Hey, Ari." Manic asked quietly as they started walking away from the clearing. "Do you know anything that like, helps him calm down? I don't want him to have a total breakdown, we gotta keep him comfortable." There was a beat before Manic spoke again. "I mean, Scourge here's gonna have to nab a shirt and cover up his back, you think you'd have any that would fit him?" He looked down at the giant shirt Aria was draped in. "Hell, you have any that fit YOU?" “I don’t think that will be necessary. He should be fine for now… But Castillo, if you can, go find his jacket, it should be in his room. Take a shirt from there as well, he won’t mind.”

Aria looked over at Manic, judging him. “Don’t you look at me like that. I’m not the only one who borrows clothes from my significant other. I recall you wearing black leather and flames at one point...”

She was teasing him of course, giggling as Scourge walked up. "Hey, I didn't wear it!" Manic protested back. "I just used it as a blanket sometimes! A lot! And sometimes wore it." Castillo walked through the castle halls, almost slowing down just to take in the feeling of the castle. It felt right again. Even if everything that had happened was far from alright, it was over for now. And hopefully, forever. He knew exactly where the king's room was. Castillo was aware that lingering to look at any of the photos would just cause him grief, so he kept away. There was no reason to think about Fiona or Luke now. He just had to get in and out, grab a shirt and jacket, and not worry about the history of these rooms. He noticed the nursery door open across the hall. He silently closed the door, it's contents a secret from him. His snooping had done enough already. The three met at the back exit to the castle, Castillo now wearing some kind of a fancy dress shirt. "Hope you don't mind, but my old clothes are kinda screwed." He shrugged and handed the jacket over to Scourge, as well as a roll of bandage tape from his bedside. "You two ready?" Aria and Manic were teasing each other back and forth, Aria cracking jokes at Manic's lovesick expense. If she had to put up with the eyefucking he had to own up to it.

“Hey, thanks. I don’t mind at all, I hate that shirt.” He shrugged and Aria looked offended.

“I got that for you for Christmas!” She protested, scratching her portal open and acting all pouty. There was a silent look between Manic and Scourge, both surprised by this comment and slightly amused as to whatever was going to come from this. Even if they knew Aria wasn't really going to chew him out for that, their glares still told Scourge they were very, very sorry for whatever would happen. They stepped through the portal into Aria's room. Castillo and Scourge walked over to the sitting area and fell into the cushions, Castillo letting out a long, heavy sigh. Manic picked up the leftovers on the table and walked over to the kitchen, starting up the stove to heat up the soup properly. A quick rummage through some of the foods in the closest cupboard was a box of macaroni and cheese, plain and simple. Just that and one set of leftovers, that would be good. One set? "Ari, didn't you leave more leftovers out earlier?" Manic asked, looking towards the counter. The container and the kiss-stained note were both gone. The shower was running, which no one noticed as Aria chewed Scourge out playfully, tugging lightly on his ear. He laughed and pretended to be in pain, stumbling over to the couch as Aria went behind a screen to collect some clothes. She knocked on the bathroom door.

“Babe? Its me. The boys are here so I grabbed you some clothes. Can I come in?”

The bat answered in the affirmative and Aria slipped into the bathroom. She didn’t leave for 20 minutes and when she came out her hair was wet but her shirt was dry. The Scourges noticed and exchanged a look. Both them smiled in that mischievous way that unsettled Aria.

Terra only briefly said hello before falling into bed and falling asleep. Aria sat on the edge of the bed, petting her mate gently. Now that Manic had access to actual cookware and utensils, there wasn't much concern about letting him handle the food as Aria was left to her girlfriend's whims. Pasta boiled, soup was warmed, and a comfortable set of scents filled the room. "Here, she made some roast and soup and stuff." Manic placed a plate down on the wood coffee table, with the reheated roast and a slice of the warmed bread. The soup was served alongside in a small bowl. "I just made some mac and cheese fresh, that's a pretty good comfort food, right?" "Didn't wanna grab a bowl?" Scourge asked. "Hey, don't judge!" Manic put the saucepan filled with macaroni and cheese in front of the king. A wooden spoon was sticking out of the pot, his evident utensil. "That's the best way to eat it, you know that! This was the first time he noticed those stares the Scourges were giving each other. "What're you guys smirking at?" "Ohh, nothing,” Scourge teased, happily eating the food set before him like a starving dog. Jules had forgotten that eating was a thing it seems.

Castillo’s eyes directed Manic's gaze to Aria's and Terra's wet hair, then raised his eyebrows as if to say, “isn’t that odd?”

Aria pulled away from her mate gently, closing the screen they had put around their bed so the tired bat could sleep. She claimed the leftover cookies for herself and sat on the floor. Oblivious to the conversations, she happily munched on cookies. Manic didn't seem phased by the realization. "I thought that just always happened with those guys?" He said without a trace of irony. Castillo laughed and let Aria munch away, not the one to ruin things this time. Manic took the time to stand up, walk to the kitchen, take a spoon, and walk back just to steal a scoop of mac and cheese for himself. Scourge was holding up for now, but there were still questions that needed to be asked. "You gonna need a ride to the castle after this, or you fine crashing here?" Castillo's question was just as much pointed at the king as it was to Aria. When Scourge managed to stop eating for a few seconds and swallow, he shook his head.

‘I think I’m gonna run home. I need to think and clear my head. Besides, crashing here is awkward when you’re third wheeling,” he shrugged and continued to eat his food

“You wouldn’t be third wheeling, but I understand,” Aria insisted. They were all really tired. "You sure?" Manic was finally letting some concern through. "We'd be happy to, dude. We ain't got much going on." "Running helps a ton," Castillo told Manic. "You should try it." "Whatever, dude." Manic said back. "I think Scourge and me are gonna try and find a hotel..." There was a loud yawn. "Ah man, we're probably just gonna crash in the van." "You guys take care," Castillo said back. "Especially you, kingy." Their walk to their van wasn't quite as casual as their conversations in the apartment were. "Damn, he's taking this well." Manic pointed out. "Do you think he's gonna be alright?" "Eventually," Castillo admitted. He didn't bring up his suspicion Scourge was much worse off than he'd ever let on, but now wasn't the time. Everyone was tired, and they just wanted to crash. The king finished his meal, washed the dishes and then hugged Aria goodbye.

“Call when you get home. Call anytime.” She insisted, voice muffled into his jacket. He pet her quills gently.

“Of course.” He said his good nights and sped off into the city, pushing himself to the limits, as fast as he could go. After half an hour of running as fast as he could, he jumped onto the roof of the castle and laid on his back, sweating and panting.

He looked up at the stars and thought. He would think for a long time, and wouldn’t go back into the castle until morning. He mused to himself, as he watched the sun rise.

“Its a new day.”

#TinyRedArtist #Show's Over #There's A Melody Playing #Strong Language

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