#My description of his emotions is he was programed to 'Love Kids' and said program may have been a little.. faulty | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

the-suicidal-lizard · 2 years

Text

saying something stupid like "i love you"... | Glamrock! Freddy x Glamrock! Bonnie |

Summary: Freddy doesn't like coming to the Bonnie Bowl, he misses him...

Warning: Robot Character Death, Description Of Said Death, Monty Is Not A Good Guy - sorry!

Notes: Title from the song "Something Stupid" by Robbie Williams.

The Bonnie Bowl area was one of Gregory's favourite places; during the day that is. And, he could do without the animatronics trying to get him, and the lack of security guard. And, when he came down here with Freddy, he didn't expect the bear to say, "I do not come up here anymore. I miss him."

Gregory was a curious child, and sure, he can't lie, he's been a bit selfish, a bit bratty, and if his mother knew he'd been prying into a clearly upsetting, and personal thing, he'd end up with a bruised backside, but... he had to know. "Miss who?"

"Bonnie..." Freddy said, sounding so... forlorn.

Gregory vaguely remembered Bonnie from where he was young... well, younger. Honestly, Bonnie wasn't his favourite, he much preferred Monty, but, well, he had to asked, "what happened to him?"

"He had been wondering around one night. He went to the atrium, then to the east arcade, then..." Suddenly, Freddy's voice got darker, "then Monty's Golf Course... next thing he was decommissioned. And, Monty took his place..."

"And, you're not happy about it," Gregory said, and realised - he was pointing out the obvious.

"No... Bonnie and I... we were close..." Freddy said, voice soft, and somehow, those light up, lifeless, robotic eyes seemed to soften in their own way. "I... I guess I began "feeling" things I shouldn't..."

"Feeling?"

..............

Freddy remembers that day too well, the day he realised he was feeling something that wasn't for children. He loved children, he liked playing games, and playing songs, he liked making sure they were okay; a Dad Instinct almost. But, this was different. This was a feeling he wasn't programmed to have, a feeling that made his wires short circuit (or butterflies, as he was told by one of the girls he played with, with flowers in her hair), his system override ("you do dumb stuff in front of people you love", came a little boys voice), his voice box break ("sometimes my voice stops working when I talk to Mike" came little Suzy's voice), and his cheeks feel like melting (blushing Alice said).

All signs of being in love.

But, it's not in his programming, nor Bonnie's. I mean, the two had been friends for years. At times, Freddy thinks they knew each other before the Pizza Plex, but he's unsure. It feels that way, but that could be his programming rather than actual memories.

And here he is. In the Bonnie Bowling area with Bonnie, the two brainstorming for another song, as Bonnie's firm, robotic fingers strummed against the guitar strings, with Freddy zoning out, eyes roaming him, doing a scan. But, not a vital diagnostic like he did with guests, or the others, a personal diagnostic, admiring the bunny's long ears, and soft eyes, and cute bow tie —

"You lose somethin' over 'ere, Freddy?" Came Bonnie's slightly southern voice.

"Uh, no... I was just..." Freddy paused, wondering how he could play off staring at Bonnie.

"Jus'...?" Bonnie asked, as he finally looked away from the guitar, but he was still plucking the strings, making a few notes.

Freddy sighed, and looked down. "I just..." He trailed off, "Bonnie... do you ever feel... emotions?"

"Sure! Love for kids, 'n' —" Started Bonnie, shrugging, and he pulled the guitar closer.

"No, I mean... friendship, and hatred, and... romance," Freddy said, looking down to the floor, and messed with one of his claws.

Bonnie finally paused. He looked up and set down the guitar down, his eyebrow plate raised, "romance? You mean like; the Mothers and Fathers that bring their children to the Pizza Plex?"

"Yes, exactly," Freddy nodded.

Bonnie thought, silent. He nodded slowly, carefully thinking. "Yes... yes, romance is somethin' I've felt before..."

Freddy looked to him, and he almost felt like he was swallowing oil. (He thinks one of the children said it was "wetting your mouth when you're nervous".) "Bonnie," he said, eyes somehow soft, and looking at Bonnie gently.

Bonnie stared back, as if he knew where it was going, "Freddy, we aren't programmed that way."

"I know, but Bonnie —"

"Don't go and spoil it all, by saying something stupid like —"

"I love you!" Freddy said, a bit too loudly, and clamped his claw over his muzzle.

Bonnie looked around quickly, as if afraid someone would hear, and come and drag one away, "Freddy!" He hissed out quietly.

Freddy winced, as if he knew he was too loud and said, "I know, I know, sorry. It's just... Bonnie, you can't blame me if my programming is faulty..."

"I'm not blamin' you," Bonnie said softly, and leaned forward, "Freddy —" He sighed out, his sigh sounding robotic, and mechanical.

"I'm sorry," Freddy said again, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he kept repeating. Freddy never felt insecure, how could he? He's still learning this "feeling" and "emotion" thing, but he's never felt small, and insignificant. He wished he could take it back, burn himself in a fire, he hated himself right now, and felt sick, if he could, he didn't like it, and he was still repeating "I'm sorry".

He only stopped when he felt, cold, hard, plastic... not lips, but a muzzle on his muzzle, and Freddy blinked. Bonnie's eyes were closed, and he was... kissing him, Freddy thinks it's called. He's seen Mother's and Father's kiss, and he had never seen friends kiss... this wasn't a friendly thing... this was... oh...

Freddy kissed back, closing his eyes, and felt Bonnie smile into the kiss.

"I think," Bonnie said, pulling back, and slowly opening his eyes, "I love you too..."

Freddy smiled, "we can... we can make this work, can't we?"

Bonnie nodded, "yes, yes, we can... we 'ave to."

..............

Bonnie was looking for Freddy. It was... a "date night" I guess one could call it. I mean, it wasn't what a human would have, with food, and a kiss. But, it was spending time together in the arcade, or making music together, though this time, the music was... for them. Not for children, for them, it helped... get their feelings out. However, they mainly spent time in the Bowling area, even before they began "dating".

On more than one occasion, Bonnie had been playing Balloon World, and Freddy has somehow sneaked up behind him, (impressive given the earth quakes when Freddy walks), and would wrap his arms around Bonnie's waist, making the bunny laugh, and his cheeks would get hot, feeling Freddy press kisses to his cheek, his nose buried into the bunny's neck.

Bonnie looked around, there was no Freddy in the Atrium, nor the arcade, despite the extensive search. He went to the bowling area, their second most frequented location, and yet still, no Freddy. This wasn't like his bear friend, he was either there before him, or would be there a minute after him, never longer than five minutes, though he's stayed for ten minutes in each area.

He hesitated outside of Monty's Golf Course, but nonetheless entered. Monty usually rubbed him the wrong way, emotionally that is. There was just this under skin, seething anger, that radiated off Monty around him, but he didn't understand way.

"Monty? You in 'ere?" Bonnie called out into the darkness.

Monty suddenly jumped down, landing in front of him, making Bonnie paused in his step. "What do want, Bunny?"

"I-I was jus' wonderin' if you'd seen Freddy," Bonnie said, scooting back, his feet grinding against the floor.

Monty glared behind his star sunglasses, "Freddy? What's been going on with you and Freddy?" He asked, walking forward, again he was radiating anger.

Bonnie kept backing up, tense, "we're friends. We 'ave been for years." He has no idea what made him say it, but he would later come to regret it. "Longer than you 'ave."

Monty's anger grew, he glared, "you have a glitch in your system!" He lunged suddenly, and Bonnie yelled in shock, falling to the ground.

Bonnie screamed, his voice box sounding high pitched, and bounced off the walls, feeling as Monty ripped his arm off, and an ear. His head was twitching, and yelled, as Monty pulled an eye from his socket, and it dimmed, going out, he tried to get up, but Monty grabbed his legs, and ripped his waist off, and pulled off a foot, and a leg, for good measure, before moving back to the upper half. He grabbed the rabbit's shoulder and ripped.

"M-M-Mon-Mon-Mont-t-t-yyyy —"

Suddenly, Monty shoved his claws into Bonnie's mouth, and began pulling his mouth open. Bonnie's screaming was turning withered. Wrecked in. When suddenly, the top half of Bonnie's face was ripped off, and he dropped it.

The gator stood and picked the guitar up, and strummed it a few times, it was the last thing Bonnie saw.

But, the last thing Bonnie "thought", or computed, was; 'I love you Freddy...'

..............

Freddy kept staring at the poster of Bonnie on the wall, not noticing Gregory, who was tugging his hand. A few months after Freddy and Bonnie confessed, Bonnie went into Monty's Golf Course, and...

Freddy swears Monty decommissioned Bonnie, tore him apart, and because of that, Freddy never cared for Monty, and besides on stage and around children, never interacted with Monty. It was his fault Bonnie went there. It was his fault. He had been late leaving, and he went to the Bowling area, and just... sat there... waiting... way after Bonnie had already ventured into the Bowling area... it was all his fault...

"Freddy!" Called Gregory, making Freddy look down, and behind him to see Monty trying to get in through the double doors.

Freddy glared. He really did hate Monty. He opened his chest, "get in." He had to get Gregory out of here, and... and it's just occurred to him, maybe at the end of this horrid night he could... he could maybe see Bonnie again, join Bonnie, wherever he might be... hope grew in his chest... (or that could just be a warm Gregory.)

'I'll see you soon, Bonnie...'

194 notes · View notes

beskar-cowboy · 3 years

Text

A Close Call

Part Three of The Best Things Dwell Out of Sight Series

Summary: After bounty hunting in the jungle, Mando comes back to the Crest with many pent up... feelings. (6k words) ao3 link here

Warnings: NSFW, smut, canon typical violence, descriptions of injuries, blood, yearning, mutual pining, rough sex, the helmet stays ON, breeding kink if you squint cause its Mando, also no season 2 spoilers

A/N: this series will be uploaded in a non-linear order! i realize that this way of doing things might not be everyone’s favourite so please let me know if you would like to be notified when all the parts are uploaded (which will be linearly in my masterlist) <3

The sweltering heat was heavy, drowning you in your own sweat as you walked deeper into vines, tall grass and thick foliage of the unfamiliar jungle.

The air was humid, the forest vast and dense, filled with shades of greens that you never thought you’d experience with your own eyes. You were seeing colours you had only previously dreamt of. It was such a stark contrast to the ice planet you had been on maybe a week prior to this. You weren’t sure which extreme you preferred but you were not the biggest fan of the way the humidity was making your hair puff out, curl exaggeratedly and stick to your neck and forehead with the sheen layer of sweat coated on every inch of your body. Your clothes were beginning to stick to your skin as well.

Mando was a fan of that, however. Yet the helmet gave away nothing, as always.

The moment you landed on the planet, he noticed the way your chest heaved, taking in the supple, fresh air for the first time. The look of wonder in your eyes, taking in the flora and fauna you could only have only ever dreamed of previous to this. You were very endearing, it made his heart feel heavy, tense, as if you were squeezing it in your perfect little hand, bleeding him dry.

You couldn’t believe this was your life now; travelling with a deadly bounty hunter, caring for him and his adoptive child day and night. What was even stranger, perhaps, was that you were having the time of your life.

No matter how cold Mando could be, how rude, closed off or just straight up silent he could get some days. You wouldn’t trade it for anything. This was much better than your life on that dingey planet, working that dead end job in the scummiest bar in town. You tried not to think too much of your past, but you couldn’t help the few untamed thoughts that crossed your mind every now and then. You shrugged them off with relative ease, usually being whisked away in some task the Mandalorian asked you to complete, or by the cries of the Child.

No matter how hard the days could get, no matter how lonely you felt some nights, you were thankful for the loving affection of the kid, you were thankful for how much he seemed to care for you. And you cared for him in return. Not because it was what you signed up for, to more or less be his babysitter, but because you truly cared and maybe even loved the little green booger like he was your own. He was very sweet, kind, curious and reckless like Mando. You liked how they seemed so similar in some strange little ways, it made your heart feel heavy.

Heavy with some emotion you wouldn’t dare name because it would only fuck you up further, fuck up the missions, fuck up your tasks, fuck up everything. That sickening feeling you got in the pit of your stomach everytime you caught Mando talking to the Child, staring at him sweetly, catching the way he seemed to stare at you sometimes too. At least you think he was. Whatever, that helmet made it near impossible to ever tell what he was thinking, feeling or even just looking at.

No matter how little he was actually beginning to warm up to you, he was still extremely apprehensive and closed off. He had his moments of perceived kindness, gentleness or whatever it really was, but he always seemed to take five steps back when he realized he had been too vulnerable with you.

You couldn't blame him though, he was on the run from people who were trying to take the kid from him, or busy chasing after bounties himself, he didn’t have time for… whatever it was you were feeling. Whatever emotion you were terrible at suppressing, you know without a doubt that Mando didn’t have time for such trivial, childish things.

You huff and look down to your side, the Child’s pod floating seamlessly along your side, the two of you just a few steps behind Mando.

The Mandalorian was tracking a bounty and he said there was a good chance he’d be on this jungle planet seeking refuge with a friend or something like that. You had literally begged him to come along, not wanting to spend another day alone in the ship with the Child. It had taken a few days to get here, and you desperately needed to stretch your legs and breathe some fresh air. Mando was reluctant, very reluctant, but after enough begging and pouting from you he allowed for the two of you to come along, figuring it would be a pretty easy quest anyways.

Oh how he was wrong about that.

His visor display was showing multiple footsteps having walked in the same direction that the three of you were now walking. The footsteps were strange, seeming to be left by a herd of long bodied, four legged animals. Mando had no way of knowing if they were a threat or not, but he had a feeling he’d be finding out soon enough. The Child’s safety and… and yours was not something he felt like gambling with today.

Mando stopped dead in his tracks and you nearly walked right into him, having been engrossed in a more or less one-sided conversation with the Child.

“Head back to the ship.” Mando commanded, his voice trying to give the sense that there was no room for discussion. He barely even turned around to glance at you, but you noticed his hand hovering over his blaster.

“Why? What’s wrong?” Your own hand now hovers over your own blaster, technically Mando’s but he had trusted you to wield it after that one stunt back on Batuu when you saved him and the Child.

“Animals. Too many of them, you’ll be safer on the Crest.” He turns to glance at the Child who coos back up at him, his ears turning downwards as if he too knows of the animals which creep up on the three of you.

“No, I can stay and fight. I’m not leaving.” You, I’m not leaving you, you want to add. But you bite your tongue.

You can’t see because of the hemet but Mando is rolling his eyes at you, at your stubbornness but also your resilience. How eager you are to stand by and help him almost blindly. He doesn’t doubt that you judge him or criticize him in your mind, but he doesn’t think he’s ever heard a negative comment leave your mouth. You’re always sweet to him. Sweet girl.

“Our job is to take care of the Child, make sure he’s safe,” He huffs, pressing a few buttons on his vambrace and suddenly the Child’s pod is floating away at a leisurely pace, back in the direction you’ve just come from. “Follow it back to the ship, close the hatch and do not leave until I’ve returned.”

You glare at Mando and how he’s given you no choice but to head back to the ship. There was no way you’d leave the Child floating unattend, and without Mando’s directions, you had no way of finding the ship again on your own. You sigh but turn on your heels after the pod, following its lead through the jungle and back to the Crest like Mando had programmed it to.

It’s been hours.

Or at least it feels like it’s been hours. You aren’t aware of the planet’s day cycles so you have no idea if it's been minutes, hours or days but it was dark now and you’d been trying to keep the kid occupied, distracted from the fact that his dad wasn’t here and you had no idea when he would be.

Luckily, the Child was in an agreeable mood so he was distracted pretty easily, playing with various shiny things that he usually reached for on the ship. You made him a couple of snacks with what you managed to find stashed away, he took a nap and you cleaned up the tiny mess he made. Overall, a pretty good day for him.

You on the other hand, were fucking stressed.

It was dark, really dark, and Mando hadn’t even contacted you on the comlink, not that he even did that before but you think that if he comes back- no, when he comes back - you’re definitely going to make that a new rule.

The Child was rocking sweetly in your arms, you had been trying to get him to fall asleep for the past thirty minutes and he was finally getting a bit dopey. Those big eyes of his seeming to get heavier, his blinks growing slower. His little hand was wrapped around your thumb and you quietly hummed a random song to him, maybe it was one your mother sang to you, you’re not quite sure but it seems to be doing the trick.

You can hear small disturbances outside the hatch and you use your hand which isn’t holding the Child to hover over your- Mando’s blaster. You lean against the wall, blaster in hand, hoping, praying it’s him.

Please be him, please be him, please be him.

The hatch groans as it releases its locks and opens slowly to the ever humid jungle. That familiar beskar glints and shines in the moonlight like a precious jewel. You exhale a much needed sigh of relief, Mando was back.

You tuck the blaster back into your holster as you watch him roundup the quarry into the ship, pushing him aggressively up the inclination. He stands wide, broad and big as he does his job. He’s tired and annoyed, you can tell. You can always tell, but he’s strong too, always strong.

The quarry’s hands are shackled, his face beat up and bloodied. Mando really did a number on him…

The quarry’s eyes meet yours, take in the sight before him, a beautiful young girl cradling a strange little green baby. He seems confused, he looks back to the intimidating Mandalorian inquisitively. It’s the last thing he sees before he’s frozen into carbonite.

You say something something to him, to Mando. You sound worried, but he can barely make it out. He had seen the way the quarry’s eyes racked the length of your body, landing on the Child as well. Mando saw red, his adrenaline still pumping heavy and potent in his veins, coursing through his body from the chase, the act of hunting.

So much so, that he hadn’t even realized he had come to tower over you, caging you in against the wall which you had been leaning against.

You look up at him with wide, worried eyes, you look flustered, lips red and swollen. He wants to touch you, he… he wants to do more than touch you-

The Child’s sleepy cooing breaks him out of his wicked mind. He looks down at the kid who reaches for him sleepily with his tiny hands, eyes half closed. He takes him from you, out of your motherly hold. Your hands brush and he wishes he wasn’t wearing gloves.

“W-What did you say?” He finally asks, remembering you had said something to him and he heard absolutely nothing.

“I said your arm is bleeding, Mando.” Voice so small, gentle.

Mando huffs, barely acknowledging it before he steps away from you, turning to the Child’s pod and placing him gently inside. It closes with a hiss. You suck in a shuddering breath.

Mando rummages around for a few moments before pulling out his tool kit, sitting down on the edge of his cot and pulling out his taser-like contraption. You watch almost dumbfounded, trying to piece together what exactly it is he’s doing. He reaches for the tear in the thick material of his sleeve, pulling on it and tearing it further to better show off his wound and his… his skin.

Flesh. Mando’s arm.

Maybe you weren’t supposed to be looking, maybe you were breaking his creed by seeing part of his skin but you couldn’t look away, and he made no motion for you to do so either. So you stand transfixed as he begins to shoddily cauterize his tanned skin.

“L-Let me help you, please.” You take a step forward, towards him, hands reaching out.

“I’m fine.” He basically growls at you, his rough tone startling you, stopping you in your tracks.

So you stand by idly, watching him burn his own skin, attempting to close his open wound.

You only interject again when he starts taking longer breaks between each electrifying tase. When his hand starts to shake and his movements slow down, motivation and determination leaving him as he slowly accepts the pain of the deep gash on his arm, blood trailing down his toned bicep.

“Here…” You say quietly again, hoping he listens to you this time. You reach into the tool kit, pulling out his bacta gel before coming to stand in front of him, your knees grazing his bent one from where he sits on the edge of his cot.

He seems to have listened, his movements having stopped, the taser held weakly in his hand. You take it from him, setting it back in the metal box before zeroing in on his bleeding cut.

You shudder at the sudden proximity, his pent up adrenaline and anger palpable, intoxicating. It lays thick and heavy in the air between your two bodies. Your hands shake as you gently douse the wound with the gel, trying to stay focused, trying to get the bleeding to stop. You fingers brush gingerly along toned, scarred skin and you try, you try so fucking hard to focus. To not let your fingers linger, not let them wander to regions unknown to any other living thing.

Mando groans as it begins to seep into the wound and you wince as well, feeling his pain as your own. You mumble a quiet ‘I’m sorry’ but continue to apply the thick substance to his bicep.

His gloved hand suddenly shoots out and latches onto your hip bone, fingers grasping the clothed flesh in a deadly grip, as if trying to ground himself to you, to the ship, to ignore the throbbing pain. You didn’t realize it would hurt that bad, maybe it went deeper than you thought.

When you’re finally done with the gel, you turn slightly to get some gauze to wrap the wound in. Mando’s touch never leaves you, his hand seemingly welded into your form. His thumb begins to absentmindedly rub up and down in soothing motions, you try to ignore the way it makes your heart pound but… but it's not really a big deal is it? No, Mando’s touched you before, what's so different about it now?

The air? The tension? The way he looks up at you, through that mask, begging to be seen?

God, you wonder what colour his eyes are.

You bet they’re soft, beautiful, kind. They probably give away how secretly gentle he is, something no one else would notice or dare assume about the deadly Mandalorian, but you know. You know because he’s been touching you more lately, especially since the ice planet. Just passing touches but still, you can’t imagine how much significance a simple touch holds for a man covered head to toe in armour, and who’s never shown his face to another living being in decades.

“Who are you?”

His voice startles you. It’s dropped several octaves since he last spoke, it felt like hours had passed since he last spoke- or more, growled at you.

“What?”

“What are you? H-How do you do this to me?” He helmet tilts to the side as he gazes up at you and your heart fucking pounds in its cage, trying to escape and expose itself to this metal man, expose everything you’ve been feeling since you met him.

“Mando-” You don’t understand what he’s saying, he’s not making any sense. Could the pain really be that bad? Making him this incoherent?

“You’re not real… you’re too good, to us, too good to the child… to me-” He was rambling. Mando was rambling. When has he ever spoken this much to you before?

Never.

“You’re good to me too.” You interject meekly.

“But not as sweet… not as sweet as you.” His words make your next intake of breath sharper than usual, no doubt he catches it by the way his helmet tilts up further. You wonder if he’s looking you in the eyes. It sure feels like he is.

“I-I don’t know what I would do if, if anything happened to-” His fingers tense on your hip as he lulls over his words, tossing them around on his tongue, afraid. “The Child… or you.”

“You keep us safe Mando.” You try to reassure him, but you’re not sure if he’s listening. His left hand joins his right one, both sides of your hips now engulfed in his large, strong hands. You throb everywhere, your body pulses for him.

Mando thinks about just letting his helmet fall forward, to let it rest against the softness of your belly but.

But he can’t. He’s too fucking scared. You scare him more than anything. More than any unknown animal in an unfamiliar jungle, more than any quarry, bounty chase, Mythosaur. More than anything, you scare him more than anything because this is the only domain Mando truly always fucks up. Feelings or whatever the fuck going on in his head right now.

“You take such good care of us.” He says, deflecting your words.

He pulls on your hips and you rock forward, almost losing your balance but your hands come forward to lean against his beskar covered shoulders, dropping the gauze you held. You shudder at the cool bite of the metal on your warm, overheating palms. Mando barely budged at your added weight, and you look down at him from where you now tower over him.

Your eyes rake over the sharp edges of his helmet in the low light of the hatch, down to his wound which still needs to be wrapped up but he was... Seriously distracting you for lack of a better word. You notice the heave of his chest, the heavy fall of his breaths like he’s having trouble getting oxygen into his body. And then you notice- you notice the bulge forming underneath his thick pants.

Mando takes you in as you do the same, watching as you finally notice his state, finally notice what you do to him. What you’ve been doing to him since the moment he met you.

“Take your pants off.”

You think your brain short circuits.

Because there’s no way that’s what Mando has more or less just ordered you to do, judging by his harsh tone.

“Wha-”

“Take them off or I will.” He groans, hands squeezing your hips again.

You whimper and bite your lip, trying to see through the pitch black T of his visor, trying to find the man underneath the beskar. You remove your trembling hands from his shoulders, standing up straighter and letting them travel down, down, down towards the button and fly of your utility pants.

“M-Mando, I-”

“Don’t make me ask you again, sweet girl.” You whimper at the nickname, it wasn't the first time he used it but this was probably only the third time at this point. With his thumbs relentlessly caressing your hip bones, you shiver underneath his touch.

You had been dreaming of this for months now, dreaming of his hands on you, sexual or not, you were so deprived of intimacy, having gone months now only barely touching, grazing each other. You both needed this, both needed this more than fucking anything esle right now and you were no one to deny him of what he wanted.

Mando keeps the helmet trained on you as your nimble fingers pry the button open, admiring how easily persuaded you were by his thick, lust-laced words. He couldn’t believe he had managed to draw this out as long as he did, his urge to just tear your clothing away from your body and sink his raging cock into your tight heat the moment he entered the Crest was…. overwhelming to say the least.

But he had barely touched you up until now, and he wanted to work you up to it, no matter how much restraint that meant he had to have on his part.

The sound of your metal zipper sliding down below your belly button tests that restraint. He keeps his eyes on you even though he knows you wouldn't be able to tell where he’s looking. He knows you feel it, knows you feel the way his eyes burn holes into you, devouring you silently, pleading with you, please, please show me.

He feels your hands come to rest over top of his gently, as if you’re still nervous about touching him. You interlace your fingers with his and lower your pants, shimmying them down your hips and thighs together. It makes Mando’s breath catch in his throat and his heart pummel in his chest.

Never had he undressed someone before. Never had the patience, never cared to. But with you, oh with you.

Maker, did he care.

Maybe cared too much, but now was not the time for such ill inducing thoughts. You were becoming more and more bare to him as the seconds passed. You only let go of his hands once your pants went past your knees. Pushing them down to your ankles, you stepped out of them, kicking off your boots as well.

There you were, standing before him in a black tank top and that fucking thong of yours… of course that’s what you had decided to wear today. Mando groans as his hands come up to touch you again, tentatively this time. He can’t believe you were allowing him this, letting him touch you, letting yourself be vulnerable with him when he wasn’t sure how ready he was to be vulnerable in return.

Maybe he could learn.

His hands travel up to your hips again, toying with the thin waistband of your panties, letting his gloved hand run along your pristine flesh that was once covered in ugly bruises. He-

He thinks he wants to be the only thing to bruise you. From now on, he made a promise to himself (and to you, secretly) that he was the only thing in this galaxy that could mark you up, claim you.

Mando’s hands travel back, reaching for the supple meat of your ass, clutching it in his large hands, kneading it before he pushes you forwards again, into him. You yelp as you land in his lap, catching yourself quickly as both of your knees rest on either side of his hips. You readjust and sit back down, your minimally clothed cunt coming to land on his hard bulge, you gasp, eyes wide as you look into his visor. He was so hard, he felt big too.

“S-Sorry I didn’t mean to-”

“What are you apologizing for now, hmm?” He asks tauntingly, helmet tilting slightly to the side, as if he were considering you.

His gloved hands come up your sides, going underneath your tank top and brushing along the underside of your breasts, feeling the tight skin. You unintentionally rock in his lap, creating friction on your already embarrassingly wet center. Mando’s hands tighten at your sides, groaning as he tries to still your movements but. But it feels too fucking good to stop.

He brings a gloved finger to your lips, running the worn leather over the pillowy flesh as if to let you taste it. You look at him, confused.

“Bite.” He instructs, voice clipped, sharp.

Without needing further instruction, your teeth latch onto the absolute tip of his glove, letting him slip his hand out of its leather confines, revealing to you the most precious amount of skin of his you’ve ever seen.

Tanned skin, thick fingers, large palm, perfect. Him. The urge to litter the rough calloused skin in kisses, lick his entire hand, just put the whole fucking thing in your mouth was all consuming. Yet you sat there in his lap staring at his hand like it was a vase of water and you were a flower, parched for water. He asked you to do the same with the other glove and of course, you did as he asked. You quickly found yourself wanting to please him.

You stared at his bare, rough, strong hands in awe, watched as he let them peek underneath your thin top to skim along your silky smooth flesh, an expanse unknown to him. His fingertips brush over your nipples, feeling how the pretty buds pebble for him. He twists and pulls them in between his fingers, watching the way your face contorts in pain and in pleasure. It’s his new favourite thing, he feels drunk off of you already.

“Please.” You aren’t quite sure what you’re begging for, Mando isn’t really sure either. But he knows one thing, and it's that the sweet sound of your voice, begging for him, begging for anything, just so desperate, was enough to make him cum in his pants. His fingers dig into your skin, trying to cool his overheating mind, trying to slow down a bit before he actually does cum in his pants, before he’s even properly seen you.

His bare hands come down to your panties, toying with them again between his agile fingers.

“You want this?” He asks, daringly pushing your panties to the side, getting the smallest glimpse and your slicked up and drenched pussy. He thinks he could die right now, die happy, never want anything, ask for anything again.

“Yeah, yeah I do, always- have.” You choke on a hiccup, emotions welling in your eyes already from how fucking built up all of this is. You feel like you were both about to burst at the seams. You still couldn’t believe this was happening, even if it were to stop now and not progress any further, you couldn’t believe he had allowed you this much of him.

Mando wraps his arm around you completely, gripping your waist tightly to spin you around, pinning you underneath him in the tight space of his cot. You gasp, shriek at the sensation of it all, as he comes to rut against you, grinding his thick bulge into your cunt.

You notice how his arm has begun to bleed again, the skin ripping open and the deep red liquid trickling down what little part of his bicep was exposed, further proving his humanity, exposing the man beneath the beskar. You really felt like you could cry.

Lost in your whirlwind, Mando pulls off your thong, throwing it somewhere unpreciously behind him before doing the same thing with your tank top. Completely vulnerable, you laid bare before him as he hovered above you, covered head to toe, save for his hands, in beskar. That fact alone made you throb deep inside. The sheer power and size of him enough to get you off.

You knew what little he had already decided to show you was all he could afford, you were so grateful for it anyway, that he was even willing to show you his hands, the little glimpse of his bicep. His skin was beautiful, but you couldn’t possibly grasp the words to tell him.

So you hook your legs around his backside and pull him to you, silently begging him to do something, anything. You would take anything he gave you, you’d even thank him for it at this point.

“Fuck.” Mando growls, bare hands coming to work at unbuttoning his pants, pulling them low enough to pull out his engorged, thick cock.

Mando was… he was huge.

This came hardly as a surprise to you, however. You would have had to be blind to not noticed how he walked. He walked like it was big, talked like it was big, fought like it was big. But fuck.

You were not prepared for that.

“Mando, I-I don’t know if it’ll-”

“It will.”

You moan and arch your back towards him, needing it now, needing that sweet burn and stretch that you know is about to come.

And oh does it come.

Mando thrusts into you without further warning, giving you no time or preparation to adjust to what he was packing.

He makes you take it. He makes it fit.

The stretch burns, it bites and it knocks every single breath and thought from your body as he nestles himself all the way up against your cervix. Your body convulses in retreat, trying to push him away from the aggressive intrusion but your mind wants more, needs more. Needs him to fucking split you in half on his cock.

You scream and Mando growls, loud, his helmet falling forward and resting in the crook of your shoulder which meets your neck. His helmet is cold and your skin is burning hot, it creates a fog on his visor and he desperately tries to wipe it off on your skin, trying to look at you so up close. The way your eyes screw shut, squeezing tears out, watching the beautiful dew drops roll down your cheek so perfectly.

It hurts. Maker, does it hurt but fuck does it feel good. The pleasure overrides the pain more than you could imagine and you find yourself begging him to give you more even though he’s already started thrusting into you like he’s on a mission, a mission to sever you in half with his cock.

He was surely succeeding.

Mando watches you cry in pleasure as he fucks into your pussy with such aggressive fervour, like someone had a gun to his head. One hand on your hip and the other around your neck, bruising your skin in that beautiful way he always wanted, how he always dreamed of. He holds you in place so that his hips don’t drive you up his cot because they surely would from how fucking deep and hard he’s pounding into you. Stars, you think you can feel him in your stomach, in your throat.

The hand on your hip travels up to one of your bouncing breasts, kneading the sotf flesh in his palm and watching you wither beneath him. So desperate -

“S-so helpless.” He moans, watching your body bend to his will beneath him.

“Mando- oh my god.” You cry, hands and arms flailing at your sides, not knowing where to put them. Mando sees your struggle and takes both of your hands into each of his, pinning them above your head and using it to drive into you even harder somehow.

Your pussy squelches obscenely, trying to suck him in deeper, keep him inside forever. The only sounds in the cot are fucking lewd, skin on skin rhythmically slapping. You pray the Child can’t hear any of this from inside his pod, you pray he’s asleep.

“So fucking wet... You’d let me do anything, wouldn’t you?” You nod your head so fast you think you’d give yourself whiplash.

“A-Anything, anything Mando- fuck.” That familiar coil was beginning to tighten in your belly, your toes curling, fisting gripping onto his, no doubt cutting off some of his circulation.

Eyes rolling into the back of your head, your chest arches up, up, up your breasts rubbing against unforgiving beskar.

Underneath said beskar, Mando felt like he wasn’t getting nearly enough oxygen into his helmet, his skin flushing underneath the heavy armour but the pleasure rolling off of you and into him would be enough to sustain him for hours, he thinks.

Your pussy was squeezing him so tight, the ridges of your inner walls so soft, warm, wet, inviting. You felt like home. Absolutely fucking drenched, no wonder you were able to take him whole with almost zero preparation, you had fucking wanted it that way. Wanted him to be rough like this.

“I’ll never leave- never leave this sweet pussy...” He moans, hips stuttering, rolling and grinding deeper and deeper and you felt your orgasm quickly approaching, his words were only bringing you that much closer.

“Please, I- I…”

“Cum for me ner mesh’la, need you to cum for me.” He groans, cool and sharp edges of his helmet resting on your cheekbone.

You envisioned the faceless man deep inside you, what his face must look like now, deep in the throes of pleasure only inches from yours. You pictured the tanned skin covering his entire body head to toe, flushed and splotchy, hot to the touch.

Would his eyes screw shut? Would his mouth hang open, little pants, groans, moans slipping through swollen lips, only loud enough for the ears of his lover to hear?

Your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, you try to look into his visor as your orgasm wipes your mind blank, eyes screwing shut, an endless stream of tears falling onto already damp cheeks as you moan and cry his name into the tight space of his cot.

Mando.

You don’t think you could recall anything if anyone asked you. Not the name of the planet you were currently on, not the name of the planet you were born on, the bar you used to work at, your old bosses name, your name. Nothing.

With two, three, four more thrusts, Mando’s hips still after he drills himself into the deepest and darkest parts of your hot cunt, spilling white hot cum into you with the lowest moan you think you’ve ever heard flowing deep from within his chest. You gasp at the sensation, that warm pleasant feeling of being absolutely stuffed full, somehow more than you already were.

He draws his cock out before pushing it back in, plugging you up with his cum, pushing it deeper and deeper inside of you. You cry, bordering on overstimulation, his cock only softening in the slightest so the hard intrusion was almost too much for you to bear.

“Fuck Mando I’m- I don’t have the implant..” You whimper, suddenly worried, voice coming out uneven with your ragged breaths.

Mando feels another surge of blood to his cock at your words, groaning as his dick twitches and thrusting into you a few more times…. For-

For good measure, he thinks.

Not that he would necessarily want that right now but fuck. Fuck did the mere idea of it make him painfully hard against his own will. You…. swollen with-

“Fuck.” He growls, pulling away from you a bit to better look down at you. Your eyes are shiny, lashes coated thick and wet with your precious tears. Lips swollen, chest flushed. You look worried, but beautiful. His.

Mando remembers your old job at the bar…. Wouldn’t they have made it mandatory for all the girls to have the implant to prevent them from getting pregn-

“But- your job, you-?”

“I didn’t do that, I didn’t fuck them… just drinks.” You smile up softly at him due to fatigue, bashful nonetheless.

Mando likes that, it puts him at ease in some fucked up way to know that those men in those types of places couldn’t get too far with you, even if they wanted.

“We can, I can get it for you on the next planet if- if that’s what you want?” He asks, hips still gently thrusting into you and you start to see stars behind your eyelids. You whimper, feeling his cum mix with your and gush back onto his cock and down the backs of your thighs.

“O-okay… thank you.” Mando nods but says nothing, pulling his cock from your fluttering pussy. You gasp at the sudden loss, feeling terribly empty and used. More cum dribbles from you and you quickly cup your cunt with your palm, trying to stop it from leaking everywhere on his cot.

Moving quicker than you would have expected him to, Mando stands up straight and tucks his wet cock back into his pants before walking away abruptly. You, however, barely notice as you lay flat on your back, head staring up at the ceiling with eyes closed, trying to catch your breath, regain some sense of self after getting all of it fucked out of you.

You’re made aware of Mando’s return by the touch of a warm and damp washcloth to your abused pussy. You gasp and sit up on your elbows, looking down the length of you to see the Mandalorian between your thighs, wiping away the mess that both of you made. Together.

You want to thank him again but you can’t find the words within you, all of them lost to you because of this sudden display of dare you say affection.

“Stay here, gonna put us into hyperspeed. Once we’re up there, go clean up.” Mando orders softly, nodding his helmet at you. You nod back, still breathless, still shaking.

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #reader insert #din djarin #din djarin x reader #imagine #smut #din djarin smut #the mandalorian smut #my writing #the best things dwell out of sight #fan fiction series #a close call

358 notes · View notes

wingsofkpop · 3 years

Text

Hiraeth - I.IX: Bloodborne

pairing(s): Hybrid!Im Jaebeom x Reader, Witch!Mark Tuan x Reader, Werewolf!Jackson Wang x Reader, Vampire!Park Jinyoung x Reader, Supernatural!Got7 x Reader

genre: Supernatural!AU, Dark Magic!AU, heavy Angst, eventual Smut

warnings: Mature language, mentions of death and murder, violence, explicit descriptions of fighting, blood and gore, some satanic themes, mentions of trauma, etc.

word count: 6,5k

synopsis: How far are you willing to go to find out the truth about Moon Dye Bay?…

chapter directory

“—so once Youngjae channels enough power from the blood moon tonight, he’ll be able to lower the veil between the Other Side and the physical plane long enough to resurrect your spirit into a mortal body.” You explain, glancing over your notes at the unusually quiet figure sitting on your bed. Something about his expression seems distant—almost sorrowful.

After your return from the hospital, and after the long chat with your roommate convincing her that your absence all night was due to a last minute work emergency, a certain ghost phased into your bedroom. You wouldn’t allow yourself to be this concerned, but during his visits, Jackson usually never shuts up. If you were all alone with no one to talk to, you probably wouldn’t either.

You lower your notebook and shake your head, “You haven’t said one word since you showed up. What’s wrong?”

Jackson purses his lips, as if nervous to relay the thoughts swirling through his mind. Another brief moment of silence passes before he finally murmurs, “It’s the witches. They’re starting to get suspicious again… I don’t know how long I have before they figure out I’ve been crossing over to this plane.”

“Then we’ll just have to bring you back before they find out.” You grab your phone from your desk, checking through your notifications to see if a certain siphoner has yet responded to your dozens of texts and calls. No dice.

You haven’t been able to reach Youngjae since yesterday morning, which is odd considering the guy is the type to respond within three seconds of receiving a message. It would be one thing if he let you know that he’s busy, but it’s complete radio silence. It’s not like Youngjae at all.

“You’re worried about something.”

Your eyes dartup at Jackson’s observation, discovering his concerned gaze focused on you.

“It’s Youngjae.” You sigh, “I haven’t heard from him, but I’m sure he’s just busy brewing potions or something.” You expect to earn at least a chuckle from the ghost, but his silence remains along with the blank expression along his face. His same distant demeanor also lingers, and this time, your concern grows to panic. “What is it, Jackson? What’s going on?”

“I didn’t want to say anything cause I was sure it was all in my head, but I feel that something is… weird.”

“Weird?”

“It’s hard to explain.” He continues, “But as a ghost, I can feel things around me… like right now, the universe just seems off—” His voice cuts out as he frantically shakes his head, “Anyway, I just want you to be careful. Mark used to tell me that disrupting the balance of nature is like opening Pandora’s box.”

“Yeah. We will be doing none of that.” You set your phone down before crossing the room to kneel in front of Jackson. A grin lifts to your lips as you hum to the ghost, “So what do you feel when you’re around me?...”

Jackson raises an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”

“You said you feel things around you… Do you feel anything special when you’re with me?”

You’re surprised at the eagerness that swells in your chest as he takes his time to think over your question. The inquiry was supposed to be a joke to lighten the mood, but you’re actually curious about your companion’s ghastly perceptions. After maybe a minute or two, Jackson sends you a small smile:

“I feel… light.”

“Light? What is that supposed to mean?”

“You have this aura around you.” Jackson affirms, mindlessly reaching forward thumb at your cheek. You obviously can’t feel his touch, but something in your gut tells you that if you could, you would feel nothing but warmth. “I feel powerful when I’m with you…”

“Is that a good thing?”

He grins, “I think so.”

You continue to stare at one another for a moment, almost attempting to read the depths in each other’s eyes. It’s not until a harsh knock resonates from the front door do you finally break the gaze, offering Jackson a final hum, “I’ll bring you back as soon as I can. I promise.”

Jackson nods, “I know you will. But like I said, please be careful.”

“I will. See you soon.” You wait for Jackson to disappear completely before exiting your bedroom, cursing Sana for leaving you to deal with whoever is incessantly banging on your door. It’s probably the old lady from across the hall wanting to borrow another cup of sugar. You roll your eyes at the thought and open the door, ready to politely decline your neighbor’s request.

Your words die on your tongue—definitely not the old lady from across the hall.

“Mark? What are you—?”

“What? Not expecting to see me?” Mark’s hostile growl takes you by surprise, as does the furious expression etched along his features. “That’s not surprising since you’ve been ignoring me.”

“I’ve been busy.”

“Oh. I’m sure.”

You cross your arms over your chest. “What the hell is your problem?”

“You wanna know what my problem is?” Mark takes a step closer to you before pointing a finger in your direction, “The fact that you not only lie to me, but you go behind my back and then deliberately avoid me for days on end.”

“What are you even talking about, Mark?”

“I’m talking about you and Youngjae playing God and resurrecting Jackson.”

Your muscles instantly freeze, as if Mark had taken a tub of ice water and thrown it over your head. The annoyance inside your chest shifts to guilt, and your once cold features cannot help but soften.

You shake your head, “Mark, I—”

“Do you know how dangerous it is to bring someone back from the dead, (Y/N)?” Mark lowers his voice, but his tone remains as frigid as his gaze. “Do you know the consequences that happen when you fuck with the balance of nature?”

“I get that, but—it’s complicated, Mark… There’s things you don’t understand—”

“I don’t understand!?” He scoffs, “Last I checked, I’m the goddamn witch here, (Y/N)! You know nothing about magic and its sacrifice!”

“Maybe not, but I do know that there is a chance I could bring Jackson back!” You shake your head again, “Please, just give me a chance to explain—”

“No. Because it’s not fucking happening.” Mark interrupts, furiously shaking his own head. “I forbid you to do this.”

It’s like a switch goes off in your mind. Your guilt immediately transforms, but this time, it configures into rage:

“You forbid me!? Who the flying fuck do you think you are!?”

“I won’t sit back and allow you to get yourself killed—!”

“And last I checked, you don’t have the right to control what I do and the decisions I make!” You seethe, stepping further back into your apartment. “This is my choice. I’m resurrecting Jackson whether you like it or not.”

“Fine! Get yourself fucking killed for all I care!” The witch raises his hands in mock surrender. “At least then I won’t have to deal with your reckless, moronic ass!”

“Fuck you, Mark.” You don’t allow the witch to say anything further and slam the door in his face. Your chest remains unbearably heavy, both physically and mentally, but you ignore the sweltering emotions and begin to traverse around the apartment, gathering your bag and other assorted belongings.

A confused and rather concerned Sana emerges from her bedroom a few seconds later. “Are you okay? What was with all that yelling?”

“Don’t worry about it,” You huff, shoving your arms through the sleeves of your jacket. “Just Mark being a douchebag, as per usual.”

“Where are you going?”

“To find Youngjae.”

“Isn’t it kind of late?”

“I’m an adult, Sana.” You snap before throwing your bag over your shoulder. “Don’t wait up for me.”

Similar to Mark, you don’t allow Sana the chance to question you further and sprint out the front door, praying that Youngjae will be up to bringing Jackson back in the next few hours.

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

Mark has never exercised the greatest control over his emotions. It first began when he was twelve, after his dad walked out on his mom. He found himself sobbing his eyes out some days, and beating the shit out of other kids on others. His mood ranged from intense rage to extreme depression. There was no in between.

In an effort to help, his mom enrolled him in a program designed to teach teens how to handle their emotions. But to no one’s surprise, the therapy didn’t do shit and Mark continued to initiate fights and cry himself to sleep most nights. He never understood why he felt this way—he still doesn’t, to be honest. His dad and him were never close, nor did he ever really care about his sudden departure. Maybe he was just an angry kid with depression. Maybe it was something else.

It wasn’t until his mom was killed did Mark begin to pull his life together, which also happened to be around the same time he met the too-friendly, homeschooled kid with an ego the size of Jupiter, Jackson Wang. Sure, the two of them butted heads every so often, but with Jackson being a werewolf, Mark learned the importance of managing the chaos within. ‘Emotion is like a loaded gun,’ he remembers Jackson once said, ‘If you let yourself pull the trigger without first aiming down sights, then you risk sinking a bullet into someone you love.’ Those words remain with him—remind him what means to stay in control.

But when it involves the people he loves, Mark can’t always regulate the ticking bomb counting down in his soul.

An ache settles in his chest as he recalls the passionate fire in your gaze. There’s always been some parts of you that reminds Mark of his past friend, specifically your stubbornness and inability to think before you act. He’s never found himself hating those parts of you until now—and he shouldn’t, Mark knows that, but he’s so fucking angry and so fucking scared of losing yet another one of the most important people in his life.

He’s experienced his fair share of loss, but losing you… It would break him. Completely.

Mark tries to push the intrusive thoughts from the forefront of his mind and focus on navigating his way through the dark maze of headstones and crumbling tombs. Right after you slammed your front door in his face, he received a text from Youngjae summoning him, Jisung and Lia to an emergency meeting at the edge of the cemetery. He’s still mad at the siphoner for assisting with your reckless scheme, but he won’t allow his pettiness to interfere with the safety of the coven.

A sigh falls from his lips—he does regret ever saying those ending words to you though… because what if they’re the last ones you hear from him.

‘I’m so sorry, Jackson…’

Mark’s misery is forgotten when he notices a group of people up ahead. He recognizes Lia, Jisung and Youngjae flocked together inside a chalk-white circle surrounded by lit torches. For a moment, Mark wonders if they’re in the middle of performing some type of seance, but his curiosity dwindles into confusion when he grows aware of the panic present in each set of their features.

He breaks into a sprint to cover more distance, approaching the strangely placed trio in no time. At the sight of him, Lia immediately bursts into tears, furthering the anxiety bubbling at the back of his throat.

“What the hell is going on!?”

“Hyung! You have to get out of here right now!” Mark notices the swollen, angry flesh of Youngjae’s bottom lip as he speaks, along with the ugly bruise underneath his left eye.

“What happened?” He ignores the siphoner’s warnings, attempting to reach inside the circle and grab Lia’s arm. However, his hand is met with resistance—a boundary spell. “Who did this to you?”

Lia sobs, “Just go, Mark! Before he hurts you!”

“Before who hurts me!? What are you—” His demands die in his throat as another figure appears from behind a large, marble gravestone. He immediately recognizes the newcomer, which sends even more confusion through his veins. “Seo Changbin? What the hell is this?”

“It’s an emergency meeting, hyung.” Mark feels his entire body freeze when the familiar, conniving voice enters his ears. “You had me a little worried… I almost thought you wouldn’t show up.”

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” Mark whirls around to face a smirking Minho cockily leaning against the wall of an empty tomb. “What kind of game do you think you’re playing, Minho?”

The younger witch shrugs before pushing off the wall to pace around the area. As he draws closer and closer, Mark can spy an ancient, navy blue ring sitting heavily on his forefinger. He’s never seen any piece of jewelry like it before, but something in his gut told him it wasn’t just a simple ring—and that he’s definitely in some kind of trouble.

“Mind explaining to me what we’re doing here? Or are you just going to continue pacing around the place like a cocky bastard?”

“Tonight is a special night, hyung… You wanna know why?” He watches Minho point to the night sky, “In just a few minutes, the moon will drift into the Earth’s shadow and the light of the sun will reflect across the moon’s surface, thus causing a blood moon… It’s actually pretty cool—”

“For Christsake, Minho—get to the goddamn point.”

“You know, for years I had to deal with all your bullshit excuses and justifications of putting our coven in danger—it was only a matter of time until one of us ended up dead, don’t you think?”

A bitter memory of Nayeon’s corpse resurfaces, but Mark remains silent.

“Everyone was too fucking blind, but I saw right through you.” Mark doesn’t move a muscle when Minho suddenly approaches, crowding his space until his nose is mere inches from brushing his own. The younger witch’s harsh glare bleeds into his soul as he continues, “You’re a poor fucking excuse for a leader, hyung—a leader who can’t even protect his own people.”

“And you think you can do better, huh?” Mark growls, glaring his own daggers into Minho’s gaze. “You have no fucking clue what it takes to run this coven… Admit it, you’re just pissed they chose me over you.”

“And look where that got them.”

“You need to cut out whatever petty bullshit this is and let Youngjae, Jisung and Lia go.” Mark murmurs, “Whatever problems you have are with me, so let’s just talk it out, okay?”

“Oh, Mark-hyung…” Minho’s gaze is unwavering from his own as he lifts a hand to rest on Mark’s shoulder. It’s a second too late that Mark realizes it is the same hand in which holds the mysterious ring:

“I’m over talking it out.”

Youngjae’s screams and Lia’s sobs echo in his ears along with the words that spill from Minho’s lips—they’re foreign, but Mark recognizes the spell right away. He tries to squirm and fight against the perpetrator’s grip, but another pair of hands keep his body in place—Changbin.

Bit by bit, Mark feels the buzz of his magic lift from his veins like a flock of doves. His limbs grow weak and his head fuzzy. Soon enough, his own knees no longer bear the strength to hold his weight. Once both Minho and Changbin release him, Mark collapses to the ground—empty and unable to rise.

“What did you do to him!?” Mark hears Jisung’s voice for the first time, although his brain is not fully able to comprehend the inquiry.

“I took his magic. He won’t be needing it anymore.”

Mark manages to find enough strength to reposition his body in a way that allows him to watch both Minho and Changbin approach a makeshift altar composed of an old, concrete coffin. Through the blur of his vision, he catches the witch stirring some kind of crimson mixture—likely blood. Minho looks to the moon, which is slowly brightening to a shade of maroon, before resting his gaze on his companion:

“It’s time.” He offers the mixture to Changbin, “Once you drink this, I can begin the transformation.”

“And you’re sure this spell will give me everything I need to take down the Primes?”

“One hundred percent.”

Take down the Primes?… Fucking hell.

“Minho! Don’t do this!” Mark can’t make out his own voice between the ringing of his ears and the beating of his heart, but he can only hope they’re audible enough for his audience. “The transformation—it won’t work!”

Youngjae shakes his head. “I don’t understand… What are you talking about, hyung?”

“He’s going to try to recreate the spell I used on Jackson on Changbin.” With a huff and a puff, Mark pushes himself to his hands and knees. He attempts to crawl forward, but the spinning of his head sends his body sprawling along the ground once again. He abandons any more thoughts of movement and speaks to Minho directly, “It will kill him—do you understand me!? You can’t—”

“You failed because you couldn’t draw enough power to complete the transformation.” Minho doesn’t even bother to look in his direction, “It will work—I know it will.”

Understanding there’s no possible way to convince the witch, Mark looks to the werewolf instead, “I’m warning you, Changbin! If you go through with this, you will die!”

“Don’t listen to him. Just drink the blood.”

“No! For fucksake, this is suicide!”

“Think of Jackson.” Minho murmurs to a torn Changbin, reaching across the altar to place a supportive hand on his shoulder. “Do it for him.”

“Changbin, don’t—!”

Mark watches in horror as Changbin throws back the mixture and downs its entirety in two gulps. His heart shatters like the glass vial the werewolf launches to the ground. He peers to his left, discovering the same shocked expressions across Youngjae, Jisung and Lia’s faces, and shakes his head in defeat as Lia begins to sob again.

“Filia maximo… Filia maximo… Morsus, morsus—” The wind begins to screech as Minho chants, tearing at Mark’s hair and nudging at his clothes, as if pleading for him to stop the spell. But there’s nothing he can do. For once, Mark is powerless. “—morsus… Advenio donec duo est revertus mors…” With a loud scream, Changbin collapses to the earth. He squirms and writhes in pain underneath the flaming light of the moon—and Mark can’t help but attempt to block out the snaps of his cracking bones.

The scene seems to last for hours until Changbin eventually grows silent. Mark takes the time to catch his breath, unable to control his lungs over the anxiety, fear and nausea lurking through his veins. He wants to look away from the still werewolf, but his gaze is as frozen as the rest of his body.

His eyes burn with tears of rage—Changbin is dead. Another person died because of his own fucking stupidity. Mark should have known this would happen again. He should have stopped it. He should have—

His thoughts disappear as Changbin suddenly gasps for air. For a moment, he claws at the earth as if attempting to ground himself, before he finally, albeit shakily, climbs to his feet. Minho cautiously approaches the wolf, peering down at the shorter male with a gaze full of concern.

“How do you feel?...”

“I feel…” Changbin flexes his fingers again, before closing them into tight fists. The moonlight illuminates the crimson glow of his irises and the sharpness of his long, black fangs as he faces the witch—a malicious smirk spreading along his lips as he chuckles, “I feel like kicking some ancient Prime ass.”

Mark can’t find the strength to watch anymore and allows his head to lower to the earth. Just before his eyes flutter shut, he swears he spots the movement of shadows from behind a nearby headstone. But before he can confirm his suspicions, his head takes one final spin and the world grows dark.

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

June 13th, 1769 — As much as I enjoy the atmosphere of Paris, I believe it is time to progress onto another part of the world. Some of the townsfolk are beginning to grow suspicious, considering I appear twenty years younger than my supposed age. Nevertheless, I will not mind a new start elsewhere. Jaebeom, on the other hand, will be a terror to convince. As he claimed last time I brought the idea to light, ‘There will never be a place more beautiful than Paris.’

But I know he is not through playing with his newest toy—Tzuyu.

I set sail for the newlands tomorrow at sunrise. Whether my brother decides to accompany me or not is solely his preference. It would be pleasant to spend some time apart—to spend some time in peace—but I know, with many complaints and reluctance, Jaebeom will board the ship tomorrow. Wherever I traverse, he follows, and vice versa. We are family, after all.

I will miss Notre Dame the most. I have grown used to visiting the Cathedral and repenting my wrongdoings to the high priest. Of course, I am forced to erase his memory of our talks each time, but it is nice to confess. It lifts a weight off of the shoulders, takes away a small portion of the guilt. If there is a god, he would never allow a creature like me to walk amongst his heavens—but at least I can salvage the lingering hope left inside of my soul. Speaking of hope, I thought I saw a woman that resembled Irene during my daily visit to the church. I find it amusing that after all these years, my heart continues to yearn for her presence. She was truly special—I wonder if she ever thought the same of me.

I’ve heard some of the sailors refer to a shore in the newland that has yet to be claimed. It may be the perfect location for Jaebeom and I to start anew. I can only hope it is as beautiful as people say. Maybe I will construct a place of worship as stunning as the Cathedral.

Isn’t that ironic?... A vampire who believes in faith.

Jinyoung finishes the entry with a sigh, welcoming the nostalgia that spreads through his thoughts like an old friend. It seems just yesterday that he recorded his first thoughts about the land that would become Moon Dye Bay. He shakes his head, carefully setting the old journal back on the bookshelf.

He never did build that church.

“Reminiscing again, brother?” The moment is ruined when a certain hybrid’s snicker reaches his ears. Jinyoung rolls his eyes as Jaebeom takes residence beside him, dragging his fingers along the spines of Jinyoung’s other diaries. “We did have some great times back in the 18th century… Remember our battles during the French Revolution? I rather enjoyed King Louis and Marie Antoinette’s executions.”

“You enjoy anything that involves bloodshed.”

“Don’t be so resentful, Jinyoungie. It’s not my fault that the queen had you in her interests.”

Jinyoung shakes his head before retreating to his desk to fix himself a drink. “The woman was as shallow as a poor soul’s ego. She was taken with any man who’d pay her the time of day. It was a miracle her death came as quickly as it did.”

“Careful there. You sound like me.”

Jinyoung deliberately chooses not to respond to Jaebeom’s comment and proceeds to pour two glasses of bourbon. He ignores his companion’s wide smirk as he hands him one of the drinks. Both the vampire and the hybrid simultaneously take a sip, peering at one another over the rims of their cups. Jaebeom is the first to break the silence with a pleased inhale and a hum:

“You returned pretty late last night. I hope you used protection during your time with (Y/N).”

“Mind your tongue, hyung.” Jinyoung warns, “I brought (Y/N) to the hospital after the attack—I trust you took care of Tzuyu?”

Jaebeom smirks. “Of course. She won’t be alive long enough to target your newest Maria Antonia again.”

About to inhale another sip of his bourbon, Jinyoung pauses to mull over the answer. He lowers his glass to his side before delivering Jaebeom a confused expression and a murmured inquiry, “What do you mean she won’t be alive?”

“Tzuyu and I got into an argument and, well, she pissed me off.” Jinyoung watches Jaebeom down the rest of his drink.

“Please tell me you didn’t bite her, Jaebeom-hyung.” He curses at the widening of Jaebeom’s smirk, slamming his glass back down on his desk with enough force to crack its exterior. “When I told you to deal with her, I didn’t mean condemn her to a fate of pain. If you wished to kill her, you could have at least been merciful and done it quick.”

“Last I checked, you said it yourself not to be kind.” Jinyoung follows Jaebeom as he pours himself another drink and collapses onto a brown, leather sofa. He tips his glass toward him with a smile before continuing, “I thought the punishment fit the crime, and we wouldn’t want to put helpless, human (Y/N) in danger again, would we?”

“You turned it off, didn’t you?” Jinyoung realizes, “Does holding onto your humanity wound you that badly, hyung? That you have no choice but to wish it away?”

“If I remember correctly, I’m not the only one that can’t hold onto their humanity… How many people did you kill in the ‘20s alone? One thousand? Maybe two?”

Jinyoung shakes his head, “I’m not that person anymore.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” In the blink of an eye, Jaebeom is in front of Jinyoung—his glass in pieces on the floor beside him. He leans in until Jinyoung can taste the alcohol of his breath on his tongue, then whispers darkly, “You can lie to yourself all you fucking want, Jinyoung. But deep down, you’ll always know what you are… let’s just hope (Y/N) never finds out, hm?”

At the mention of your name, Jinyoung’s anger expands. He suppresses the urge to take the table beside him and smash it over the hybrid’s head, and instead inhales a deep breath. Jaebeom is only trying to provoke him—and he refuses to be a pawn in his foolish games.

“You will remember what it was like to feel human again.” Jinyoung sighs, “For your sake, I hope your remembrance comes sooner rather than later.”

Jaebeom tsks, “Being human is overrated.”

“He said the same thing about fate.” Both Jinyoung and Jaebeom whirl around at the appearance of a third voice. Jinyoung feels his blood begin to boil at the sight of the familiar vampire in the doorway, once again, suppressing his desire to launch a piece of furniture in her direction. “Ironically, fate and humanity are a package deal.”

Jaebeom growls, “What the fuck are you doing here, Tzuyu?”

“I came to try and convince you to give me your blood.” Tzuyu coughs, and Jinyoung swears he can hear the rattle of her bones. “But judging by your attitude, that’s obviously going to be harder than I thought.”

“You have courage for showing your face again.” Jinyoung crosses his arms with a dark hum, “Especially so soon after you nearly killed (Y/N).”

“It wasn’t my intention to kill her. I just wanted to send a message.”

“Is that so?” With a malicious glare, Jinyoung steps forward and tilts his head toward the vampire, “And what kind of message was that?”

“For (Y/N) to stay away from Jaebeom.” Another violent cough wracks through Tzuyu’s thin form, causing a light stream of blood to splatter from her lips. She wipes her mouth with a ragged breath before continuing, “Look, I did it for her own good. We all know his track record at keeping humans alive.”

“You did it to protect her!?” Jaebeom cackles, “Wow! That’s fucking priceless!”

“Say what you will, you both know I’m right.” Tzuyu says, propping herself up against a nearby bookshelf. “It’s either she ends up dead or is turned into a vampire—then again, there’s not much of a difference between the two, is there?”

“I would die before I allow (Y/N) to come to any harm.”

“The only issue with that is you can’t die, Jinyoung.” Jinyoung doesn’t take his eyes off Tzuyu as she grabs a bottle of brandy from the top shelf. It takes her literal seconds to unscrew the cap and down a good portion of the container. She licks her lips and says, “I’m sorry I attacked (Y/N), okay? I went too far. I won’t do it again.”

“You think an apology is enough to save your life?” Jaebeom snickers before snatching the alcohol from the vampire, “Think again, sweetheart.”

“What do you want from me, Jaebeom? Does seeing me die a slow, painful death bring you joy?”

He shrugs, “No one mourns for the wicked.”

“Is he always this much of an asshole?”

Jinyoung chuckles, “Pretty much.”

“Great.” The vampire breathes out a sigh and cards her fingers through her hair. After a brief moment of silence, she directs her attention back to Jaebeom and pleads—her voice packed with desperation and fear, “What can I do to convince you to let me live? Please, Jaebeom… I don’t want to die.”

“You should have thought about that before you touched what I told you not to.” Jinyoung remains quiet as Jaebeom lifts a hand to grasp Tzuyu’s jaw. The dying visitor remains unphased, proceeding to glare at the hybrid with hateful, yet oddly sorrowful eyes. “I suggest you show yourself out before I end your life sooner.”

“You’re going to lose everything one of these days, Jaebeom.” Tzuyu shakes her head sadly, wiping away a layer of cold sweat from her forehead. “You’re going to lose everyone, even your brother, and you’re going to be alone. For an eternity.”

“Save the monologue.” Jaebeom waves dismissively, taking a sip of the brandy before returning it back to its shelf. “Petty isn’t a good look for you, baby.”

“Fuck you, Jaebeom.” Tzuyu goes to stomp out the door, but something—someone blocks her path. The atmosphere changes when Jinyoung notices your panicked form, practically gasping for air and cross-eyed, standing in the doorway. He immediately speeds to your side without hesitation, grasping your hands in hopes to ground you.

He stares into your eyes, “What is it, (Y/N)? What’s wrong?”

“You and Jaebeom have to get the hell out of here! Right now!”

Jaebeom shakes his head in confusion, “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I don’t know what exactly happened but Minho turned Changbin into this dark werewolf creature or-or something… I do know, however, that Changbin is on his way right now to kill you both.” Jinyoung steps back at the intensity of your explanation, unable to think of a response over the roar of his thoughts. Through his peripheral vision, he can spot the same type of speechlessness across Jaebeom’s face.

Not again…

“That’s stupid… You realize nothing can kill them, right?” Tzuyu scoffs.

“This is different.” You urge, “I saw Changbin—he wasn’t like anything I’ve ever seen before… The spell that Minho used, it was-was—”

“Dark magic.” Jinyoung finishes blankly, “The spell was dark magic.”

“Yes… which means you and Jaebeom need to leave town as fast as you possibly can before—”

“I don’t think anyone is going anywhere, (Y/N).” Jinyoung’s entire body grows stiff as a new voice echoes throughout the study. He cautiously turns his head, discovering none other than the young werewolf in question resting among the shadows. His eye also catches the open window a few inches away, and he curses himself for ever wanting to feel the nightly draft.

Changbin’s smirk is as dark as his eyes.

“What?... Not going to offer me a drink?”

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

“(Y/N)! Get out of here! Now!” Jaebeom hears Jinyoung scream as the werewolf suddenly launches forward, knocking his brother into the bookshelf behind him. The wood completely splinters beneath the impact, raining down an array of books and planks on Jinyoung’s body. Changbin turns to Jaebeom next, but the hybrid is ready—and pissed off.

Jaebeom speeds toward the intruder and delivers a swift kick to the gut. Changbin flies back at the force, crashing back through the window with a loud growl. Sensing the urgency in time, Jaebeom quickly throws Jinyoung’s immobile body over his shoulder and urges both you and Tzuyu out the study door.

“Come on! We gotta go!”

“Jaebeom! What the hell is happening!?” He ignores Tzuyu’s fearful ask and proceeds to lug Jinyoung through the maze of hallways and down the staircase, you and the female vampire hot on his heels. He doesn’t know exactly where he’s going, but he makes his way to the parlor where he props Jinyoung up against a nearby chair before turning to you:

“You need to leave. I will deal with this.”

“No way. I’m not going anywhere.” Jaebeom curses your stubbornness inside his head, sending a stern glare in your direction. Your expression remains fixated, and he can’t help but wish your presence in any other situation but now.

“I can’t protect you right now—”

“And I can’t sit back and watch you get yourselves killed!” You shake your head indignantly, “I’m staying!”

“Fucking hell, (Y/N)! Get your ass out that door before I throw you out myself!”

“Jaebeom, watch out!” At Tzuyu’s cue, a wooden branch comes soaring in through the window. Jaebeom immediately throws himself against you, effectively forcing your body to the ground to dodge the projectile. He can feel your fear through the trembling of your limbs and hurried breaths, but it only brings him more determination to tear apart his attacker.

He shakes his head in surrender, “You stay on the fucking ground, understand? Don’t you fucking dare move a muscle.” He doesn’t bother to wait for a response and pushes himself back to his feet.

Tzuyu is huddled in a corner, and Jinyoung has yet to awaken from his crash landing back in the study. Jaebeom tries to focus his senses on detecting the werewolf, but he can’t seem to hear anything past the beating of his own heart. He carefully makes his way over to the incapacitated vampire, attempting to force him back to consciousness.

“Now is really not the time for a fucking nap, Jinyoung.” He hisses, “I swear to god, if I have to save your ass one more time—” Another wave of tree branches come crashing through the windows. Unfortunately, Jaebeom is not as quick and one catches his shoulder at just the right angle. He feels the wood sink into his flesh, painfully carving into his bones. With a low groan, Jaebeom manages to grab the makeshift stake and remove it in one hefty pull.

He tosses it away with a yell, “You gonna hide like a little bitch!? Or are you gonna come out and fight like a man!?”

“Be careful what you wish for, asshole!” Jaebeom turns just in time to discover the werewolf emerging from a shattered window. His blood boils when he notices the sadistic grin along the young kid’s face—he wonders how those teeth will look strewn across the parlor floor.

Changbin comes at him fast, much faster than Jaebeom could have predicted. He manages to dodge a set of jabs, but he’s not so lucky when Changbin lands a heavy hit against the side of his face. Pain erupts through his jaw as he collapses to the floor, but Jaebeom doesn’t have the chance to dwell over it and rolls out of the way just as the werewolf attempts to stomp his nose.

Jaebeom tries to speed away again, but like before, his counterpart is faster. Changbin manages to force him to the floor for a second time, pinning his body down with his own. Horrified, the hybrid watches as the werewolf’s eyes glow blood red and large, pitch black fangs emerge past his parted lips. Once again, he attempts to break free, but it’s no use—Changbin is too strong.

Just when he believes the wolf’s fangs are going to sink into his neck, another form knocks Changbin away. Jaebeom hurriedly props himself on his arms in time to watch Tzuyu deliver a series of hits and kicks to the perpetrator, eventually slamming his head into a nearby armoire. Taking advantage of the moment, she turns from Changbin to Jaebeom instead:

“Grab Jinyoung and (Y/N) and run!” She screams, “Get the hell of here!”

Unable to move, Jaebeom remains as Tzuyu attempts to fight off the wolf. But with the combination of his ultimate strength and her weakness from Jaebeom’s venom, her defeat is inevitable. He watches in terror as Changbin sinks his teeth into the vampire’s arm before yanking her head forward and effectively snapping her neck. Jaebeom feels his insides practically soar with rage when the attacker tosses a comatose Tzuyu across the room like a useless toy.

“I’ll kill you…” He sneers, allowing his own supernatural features to overtake his face. “I’ll fucking kill you…”

Changbin shakes his head with a smirk, “I’d like to see you try.”

Using the little agility he has left, Jaebeom grabs one of the branches and speeds toward the wolf. Due to Changbin’s movements, he misses his chest, but manages to stab the weapon in his stomach. Changbin releases a pained groan, allowing Jaebeom to take advantage of his surprise and land another array of uppercuts to his face. Just when he finally thinks he has the upper hand, his opponent blocks one of his hits and pins him against a wall with a hand around his throat.

“Any last words, Prime?”

“You really think you can kill me?” Jaebeom growls, squirming against Changbin’s hold.

“I know I can… Have fun rotting in Hell—fuck!”

Shock spills through Jaebeom’s veins as the point of branch suddenly appears through the center of the wolf’s chest, splattering red across both of their bodies. Changbin’s grip releases, allowing the hybrid to quickly speed out of his reach. Once he’s a safe distances away, Jaebeom looks to his savior, discovering the one person he never expected to see—

You stand over Changbin’s body—chest heaving and bloodied hands trembling. Your eyes are glassy when Jaebeom meets your gaze, and for some reason, he feels the urge to go and pull your form into a tight embrace. Your voice, however, returns his mind to reality:

“Did I… Did I kill him?”

“I don’t think so.” Jaebeom answers, nursing his wound with his own shaky fingers. “We need to get out of here—get somewhere safe.”

“Good idea.” You trudge over to where Jinyoung is still unconsciously laid across the chair. Jaebeom follows your lead and hurries over to a lifeless Tzuyu. “I know somewhere we can go… but I don’t think you’re going to like it.”

“(Y/N)... There is an immortal, unkillable super wolf out to kill me and my brother currently in my living room…” He snorts, maneuvering Tzuyu’s body into one arm and assisting you and Jinyoung with the other.

“Trust me, anywhere is a hell of a lot better than here…”

87 notes · View notes

cheri-translates · 3 years

Text

[CN] Lucien’s R&S - The victim who disappeared (Eng Translation)

🍒This R&S (消失的遇难者) was part of the Dream Heart Lake event which will unlikely come to EN🍒

Angst warning!

More Lucien R&S from this event:

> regarding what books don’t say (important to read this first!)

> my love rival older brother

> the victim who disappeared ♡

> since that rainy night

[ Chapter One ]

Recently, the girls in the precinct have been addicted to a variety program called “Miracle Finder”. When it’s time for lunch, there’d be a bunch of them piling in front of the computer screen, watching and exclaiming.

Filled with curiosity, I lean over to take a look. The girls immediately stop me, recommending it fervently.

“Captain Fan, do you watch this program too?”

“This week’s guest is Professor Lucien. He looks so handsome!”

I shake my head in resignation. “You girls only know how to look at appearances the whole day.”

“Captain Fan, you can’t say that! Our Professor Lucien became a neurologist at a very young age.”

“Exactly, exactly! He’s also a guest professor at Loveland University!”

“Sigh. If I had such a handsome teacher back then, I’d have definitely worked hard.”

Watching the girls chat, I can’t help but tease them. “Don’t all of you have an even more handsome-looking superior? It isn’t too late to start working now.”

The moment I finish speaking, their exclamations completely cover my words. Seems like the young and gifted “Professor Lucien” they’ve been talking about has appeared on the screen. Seeing his refined manner and gentle appearance, I actually feel a sense of familiarity.

“Hurry and look! Even Captain Fan is dazed!”

“We were right, weren’t we? Doesn’t he have an especially good temperament!”

The crinkled and smiling eyes of that boy in my memories overlap with the person on screen. That unresolved case which almost disappeared finally has a favourable turn after so many years. Even though I know that the chances are slim, I still wish to grasp this new lead.

“What’s his name again?”

“Oh? Wasn’t Captain Fan completely uninterested just now?” The girls notice the change in my attitude, becoming enthusiastic in an instant. They start introducing him, their words pouring out in an unceasing torrent. “His name is Lucien, a neurologist who returned after studying abroad. I heard that the thesis he released at twenty was published in an internationally renowned science magazine...”

“Isn’t he just as intelligent as that boy?” I mutter softly, the hope in my heart brightening by a few notches.

Although the name doesn’t fit, if that child managed to survive after that incident 19 years ago, it feels as though he would have gone down such a life path.

“Uncle has worked very hard. Kid, have you been doing your best over the years too?”

Even though I’m unable to find concrete evidence to make public the incident 19 years ago, the least I could do is to shed some light on the truth concerning that kid and his family.

In the midst of a cruel reality mixed with tears and blood, and the truth which cannot be found, the me of the past finally decided to step out of the days of living in a wasteland, plunging deeper into a depthless pool of truth.

[ Chapter Two ]

At night, I dreamt of that day yet again.

It was that boy’s 7th birthday.

Early in the morning on that day, he had headed out with his parents. Before he left, he specially gave me an invitation card to his birthday party in the evening.

He rarely revealed the innocent smile a kid should have. Instead, his mouth remained merciless, saying something unadorable. “I’ve already spoken with my dad. Tonight, he can tell you how to play chess. If you don't improve in your chess skills, I won’t know how to play with you anymore.”

I snatched the invitation card in his hand in an impolite manner, deliberately provoking him. “You’ll have to make do with it, little genius. I’m the only one who’s willing to play with you.”

In a huff, he ran over to where his parents were waiting for him not afar off. Taking their hands, they left while talking and laughing.

I rarely saw this busy couple accompanying their child outside over the weekend. They must have taken a day off from work specially for his birthday.

“Kid, have fun!”

“Mm.”

“Also, happy birthday!”

“Thank you, Brother Fan.”

His parents and him turned around to wave goodbye at me, the three of their smiles under the sunlight, sparkling and bright.

On hindsight, I should have given him his present then.

It was a sci-fi novel which was popular amongst kids, and I’d frequently see children gathered in the yard discussing it together. Although I didn’t know if that kid liked reading other books aside from those profound science materials, I felt it wouldn’t hurt for him to engage with things people his age liked.

He was still a child. From the bottom of my heart, I hoped that he could live a little more like a child.

However, this wish that I never said aloud was completely shattered by that car accident.

That evening, which should have filled with presents, cake, and the sound of birthday songs, only welcomed pattering and whistling rain, as well as blood stains on the asphalt road which couldn’t be washed off even with a scrub.

Sirens from the ambulance and police cars intertwined. Mixed with the sharp cries of passers-by, they composed the saddest and shrillest background music.

[ Chapter Three ]

“Oh my goodness, that’s so horrifying! Those two people are covered in blood!”

“Let’s leave, it’s too pitiful.”

The crowd in the surroundings remarked in soft voices, showing sympathy towards the victims they weren’t acquainted with.

The incident happened on the road outside our estate. After receiving the task, I rushed over to the scene. When I saw the names of the casualties, I was both shocked and had a flicker of hope in my heart, praying that they were people who happened to share the same names. However, after confirming the identities of the two bodies underneath the white cloth, coldness rushed through my body--

Those were the parents of the little genius.

In just the blink of an eye, the couple who had greeted me with warm smiles had turned ice cold, lying in a pool of blood. I didn’t dare to imagine how such a young kid would be able to face such a cruel reality, and my insuppressible tears, along with the rain, drenched my face.

The captain came over to pat me on the shoulder, consoling me with a lowered voice. “Settle your emotions, and do a proper investigation.”

I nodded my head silently, lifting my hand to wipe my tears away. After that, I started taking down records of what the witness had to say.

The witness was a boss of a news-stand nearby, around 45 years of age. He was in a state of fright, hugging his elbows and shivering.

I asked if he needed a rest before supplementing the record, but he shook his head repeatedly, saying that it’d be better to record it early, since he wouldn’t want to recollect such a horrifying image afterwards.

According to his description, the cause of the accident was a large truck which had lost control. It was yet to be confirmed whether the reason for the loss of control was due to a human error, or the slippery road.

After realising that there was an issue with the truck, the driver had frantically tried to turn. But in the end, it still ended up hitting the family of three who were walking on the zebra crossing.

The three of them were sent flying a great distance. The places where they fell turned into pools of blood not long after.

As for what happened after, the boss of the news-stand expressed that he didn’t pay attention due to fright.

After handing him over to the medical personnel to console his emotions, I continued making notes for the next witness.

The images described by all the witnesses were virtually the same. From the various indications of the scene, this tragedy could have been a normal traffic accident.

When I finished making the records, the scene was more or less cleaned up. After wrapping up my work, I inquired about which hospital the boy was taken to. But I was notified that no injured child was found on the scene.

“How’s that impossible! That sketchbook over there belongs to him! That boy suffered such grave injuries - where else could he have gone!”

Agitatedly, I pointed at the exhibits collected, one of them a sketchbook coated in blood. At a glance, I recognised it as the book that boy would carry with him all day. That’s because the flower garland on the cover was a work he was proud of, and it was exactly the same as the one drawn on his birthday invitation card this morning.

He was definitely at the scene when the accident happened. Also, he definitely couldn’t have left on his own.

“Has the scene been investigated? Are there any other suspicious areas or areas we’ve overlooked?”

"Didn’t all the witnesses say there was a family of three at the scene? There’s definitely one more kid!”

“How much time passed after the incident before the scene was cordoned off? Could the kid have been taken away before that?”

I tossed out points of contention in succession, but the expressions of my colleagues remained confused and blank. In a moment of anxiousness, I burned with impatience and went to check the surveillance tape on my own. However, I didn’t notice any suspicious people entering or exiting the scene before or after the incident.

I didn’t have a single clue regarding his whereabouts, and could only hold onto hope as I contacted his relatives one by one.

They were generally not from the city. Most of them didn’t even know that the family had met with an accident, much less the whereabouts of the boy. After consoling their emotions, I hang up dejectedly, turning back to the scene of the incident.

The police cars stationed around earlier had long since left, and traces left on the asphalt road had been washed clean by the rain. Everything returned to peace and quiet, as though nothing had happened. Only the lingering grief served as a reminder that it wasn’t over yet--

The sudden car accident, the missing child, the ignorant relatives - all of these seemed to remind me that this wasn’t a simple traffic incident.

Without any orderliness, I started investigating the vicinity, imagining countless times for that smart fellow to suddenly lunge out from a dark corner, telling me that this whole thing was just a prank he pulled.

However, that didn’t happen. Even after checking every corner of the large streets and small alleys, I ended up empty-handed.

In the end, I sat down tiredly along the side of the road, looking at the pitch-black sky as it started turning into a grey dawn.

Although it was dawn, the truth of the matter would forever be hidden in that dark night.

All my hopes and hopelessness fell into pieces, leaving behind a maze of doubts, akin to a dense fog.

[ Chapter Four ]

On the morning of the second day, without even washing my face, I headed to the news-stand to buy various newspapers, looking through them seriously to search for any reports on the matter.

As it was temporarily classified as a normal traffic accident, the length of all the articles were very short. Also, they were placed in nondescript corners.

I closed the final set of newspapers, realising in disappointment that none of them mentioned the missing child.

It’s as though he had evaporated from the world. Aside from me, no one else remembered his existence.

I couldn't stand for the case to be closed just like this, and finally understood the anxiety family members felt when they asked for our help in conducting investigations. As long as it was related to a living person, there wasn’t anything not worth investigating.

With a determination to investigate the matter and leave no stone unturned, I once again returned to the scene of the accident. I asked around the small shops along the roadside, hoping to obtain just a tiny hint.

Heaven will not disappoint the person who tries. From the lips of an owner of the shop facing the zebra crossing, I received an important lead which wasn’t brought up before - a black car.

“When the accident occurred, I was busy, and even had a scare when I heard the truck braking. By the time I set down my stuff to watch, the police cars and ambulance weren’t here yet. But a black car was stationed here for quite some time.”

Regarding this lead, I first expressed shock. Then, I had doubts.

Based on the surveillance tape I watched on the day of the incident, no suspicious cars appeared. If this person deliberately toggled with the surveillance footage to capture the kid, the remaining investigations would likely be a bitter struggle.

“Why did he take the kid away?”

“Could there be a conspiracy behind this?”

That black car had taken both the truth and that boy, disappearing into thin air.

The scene I had witnessed, the images depicted by the witnesses, the true footage of that surveillance tape, pieces of evidence which weren’t able to fit together, created paradoxes. The entire incident was akin to a vicious cycle, tangled and complicated, twisting and turning, unable to grasp a hint of it, and left one spinning around on a superficial level.

In the end, the police classified this matter as a normal traffic incident. And I could only continue investigating in the dark.

[ Chapter Five ]

Many years passed. From a small police officer who had accomplished nothing, I struggled and worked hard, becoming a captain who solved countless cases.

Even so, the unresolved case concerning that boy hasn’t had a breakthrough.

Over ten years, I found some leads, but they would ultimately be flawed fragments. And along with the passage of time, they’ve eroded even more.

This time, the person called “Lucien” was probably the finally hope of this case.

I visit Loveland University over the weekend, asking the kids about this “Professor Lucien”, but receive scant results even after a long while. He’s indeed very popular amongst students. But regarding his personal life, everyone expressed that they weren’t clear about it.

“Then again, which student would be so free to ask about a teacher’s personal life?” With a wry smile, I take a seat at the resting area of the math building. Without realising it, someone sits beside me. While feeling puzzled over why someone would choose to sit next to a middle-aged uncle when there are so many other empty chairs around, I see the face of the person I was looking for.

“Lucien?!”

“I heard from the students that you were asking about me. So I thought, why not let you ask me in person directly?” His tone is as calm as what I saw in the program, but I can vaguely sense a hint of irritation.

“Please don’t get the wrong idea. I didn’t mean to offend you.” I find an excuse on the fly. “It’s just that after watching your program, there were some issues I didn’t quite understand, and wanted to consult you.”

He listens patiently to the many unorganised questions I have, and explains them thoroughly. That look of concentration makes me think about the boy again.

Finally, I can no longer contain myself. When I’m about to bid farewell to him, I ask, “It might be a little presumptuous of me, but could I ask if you’ve always been living abroad since young?”

There doesn’t seem to be much change in his expression, but he raises his eyebrows slightly.

“In that case, could I be also be presumptuous and ask why you have such a question?

Since things have already reached this stage, I decide that there’s no longer a need to conceal anything. So I tell him the honest truth. “You kind of resemble a kid I used to know, but he’s gone missing.”

Upon hearing this, a sadness dyes his eyes in an instant. He lowers his eyes, his expression sad, as though he had also once known that pitiful child. “I feel deeply sorry for that child... but it’s a shame that I’m not the person you’re looking for. From the moment I could remember, I’ve been living in an orphanage.

“Ah... sorry about that.” I feel uncomfortable knowing that I’ve rubbed someone else’s sore spot. As though he’s talking about matters pertaining to somebody else, he says relaxedly, “It’s all right. I hope you can find that child soon.”

His eyes really do resemble the boy. It’s just that he’s much more modest in how he conducts himself. I increasingly hope that if the boy were still living on this earth, he must definitely be a person who is just as well-liked.

“Many years have passed. To tell you the truth, I think whether or not I find him isn’t that important.” I look into the distance, making a wish from the bottom of my heart. “I just hope that in a corner of the world, he’s living happily and well.”

After Lucien hears this, he chuckles lightly. “I’m almost envious of that boy - that he was able to meet a kind-hearted person who would think of him even after such a long time.”

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc lucien #cncancelled #...T-T

85 notes · View notes

chromosome23hq · 3 years

Photo

august 11th, 1997, 6:05 am, silverhouse apartments

One fine morning, with a mug of coffee in one hand and a watering can in the other, Billie Foster was not prepared for the crack of a gun to kick her into a vision. A crowd. A masked figure. Mayor Peter Webber, now with a hole in his forehead. So many lives altered in one fell swoop that the crowd overwhelmed her. A small stampede had Billie stumbling back into her apartment. Coffee in her monstera and water soaking her feet. She didn't get a chance to see anymore details, only a masked figure and an untimely death.

It’s not something Billie can just ignore, especially when it comes to the death of a public figure, much less the mayor. She needed to tell someone, an officer of some sort who can protect the mayor from anything. It’s when she remembers them, the Omegas. It’s a part of their job description to protect the weak and innocent, which includes the mayor. A heavy and deep sigh leaves between her lips. This is not how she wanted to start her morning.

august 14th, 1997, 11:45 am, somewhere in the city

This has to be the most boring protection assignment in the world. For the past few days, all Yazmín Navarro Montes’ (also known as Siren) done is escort Mayor Peter Weber everywhere to defend him against an assassination threat. He still has his bodyguards, but extra cushion with Yazmín here, as Prism described it. Of course, it’s unspoken that this also works as great publicity. She had wanted nothing to do with it, which meant Prism had to pick her for this. Her luck always worked that way. Today, she’s starting to wonder if this threat was real at all, or a phony stunt to benefit the mayor and the Omegas. There’s been no suspicious figures lingering around his office or home, no attempts, and no threats sent to him.

Still, Yazmín doesn’t slack on her job. She always has an eye out, ready to push the mayor out of the way or stop a would-be killer. They’re outside for a few minutes when something starts to bother her. There’s water everywhere she can sense, then suddenly there’s a spike. It’s nowhere near winter, but something freezing just entered the vicinity. No one stands out in the crowd, until—

Already running behind schedule after sleeping in late, Ethan Sato pays no heed to his surroundings as he cuts past a gentleman on his journey to class. He’s cursing himself internally, vowing for the umpteenth time to start going to bed earlier, when his internal monologue is drowned out by a wave of terror. Ethan stops in his tracks, his heartbeat thundering, panic squeezing down on his chest. Breathe, he needs to breathe. He takes in one, shuddering breath, knowing that this—whatever this is—isn’t his, then turns around and he sees—

“Oh, my God.” He claps his hand over his mouth. Behind Ethan is the Mayor, haloed by his own blood as he lays on the footpath. It takes Ethan a solid minute to process what he sees, what he feels, before he scrambles backwards, yelling, “Help! Somebody help!”

As soon as his co-worker had walked in, Jaewon Oh had scampered off for his break. An entire hour away from inane questions was exactly what he needed. Deciding to take a stroll to his favorite nearby coffee shop was done automatically, he ate there almost everyday. Unfortunately for him, his hour was coming to an end and so he made his way back with an extra sandwich in his hand.

He was contemplating whether or not he could get away with leaving the store early when he saw it. Or, rather, them. A person in a mask appeared seemingly out of nowhere and Jaewon, curious, watched as they walked ahead of him with purpose. something about this didn’t feel right, he wasn’t sure exactly what was going on but there was a sinking feeling in his gut.

Should he do something? No, yes? He was just about to shake off the feeling, not wanting to get involved in business that wasn’t his own, when he saw a man ahead of him go down. It took him a moment to register that it was the mayor and said mayor had just been shot. The masked figure was running and Jaewon watched, frozen to his spot, as they did so. On the sidewalk ahead of him the mayor lay dying, the particles of energy around him turning a meek gray as the life left him.

Jaewon took several steps back and pressed himself against a storefront, brows furrowed. it couldn’t have been a normal bullet, a gun going off was loud. this had been too quiet. suspicion rose in him, humans could quiet a gun, sure, but not to that extent. could … could it have been a mutant? Jaewon looked back at the scene that was now filled with people, all as terrified as they were shocked, and wondered. It certainly seemed like a possibility. shit, he’d just witnessed the mayor getting shot, the mayor being killed. Soon enough police sirens would echo down the street and detectives would go looking for bystanders. Not wanting to be questioned, he quickly walked in the opposite direction and stewed in his own theories.

Sitting on the stairs of a building that had been ‘under construction’ for five years now (he’d been keeping track of time—the crew seemed to have abandoned it), David Castillo withdrew his flask and took a swig, eyeing the passersby—trying to find who best to focus on. Woman with the dog thinking about how the groomers screwed her poodle’s nail polish up completely? (he didn’t agree, they looked marvelous)—she walked by too fast. Man with the shirt that read ‘D.A.R.E - to keep kids off drugs’ and was already thinking about that sweet weed he would score later? Also too fast.

That was the only problem with a staircase in the middle of an ‘under construction’ type of place!

Voices swirling around, from those thinking about their affairs to those thinking about their loyal spouses, he shook his head viciously.

And then a strong voice emerged.

Strong emotion.

Strong passion.

Strong thought.

‘Got ‘em.’

Followed by screams—real ones.

And a silence. Even amongst the screams... a silence.

It’s too late.

There’s barely any noise between the mayor standing in front of Yazmin, and dropping to the ground. Blood is everywhere. Some of it’s even on her suit, her hands. She had bent down to hold the wound without thinking, before realizing it’s all too late.

There’s people running away in the crowd, and that’s how she knows the shooter isn’t far ahead. She’s running before the bodyguards do, head going through anyway she could to slow them down. Every option can lead to civilian injuries or worse. Shit! Yaz speeds up, water rising from her side pouch and striking out toward the assailant’s ankle as they round the corner. It misses by an inch.

As she enters the alley, she sends a dozen sharp edged droplets at the wall with a yell for them to stop. But no one’s there. The only evidence that remains is a spray painted symbol.

august 17th, 1997, 5:34 pm, ramer cemetery

Peter Webber is found dead on sight. Upon inspection, they’re unable to find a bullet but water is found. Because of Yazmín’s ability and past criminal record, the suspicion falls onto her. Banks and schools are closed early that day, and remain that way until the funeral. National news channels cover it nearly twenty-four seven, wondering how the mayor of one of the most prominent cities in America was shot in broad daylight and by who. All channels in New York cut into their current programming to broadcast the funeral, from the funeral home to the drive to the cemetery. Crowds line the streets during the procession to show their love for the beloved mayor, as well as grieve his loss and the loss it is to the city. His children and wife thank those for being there with them through this difficult time. The vice mayor, who was sworn in days before, tells the city they’ll get through this together and follow the vision Mayor Peter Webber had.

august 18th, 1997, 9:30 am, new york city hall

This isn’t the first time that Han-Byul Song (also known as Prism) stands surrounded by cameras, microphones, and journalists waiting for what he has to say. But he can say that it’s the first time dealing with them like this. Individuals who once looked at him as if he was like them, now they see him as something else. It doesn’t sit right with him, none of this sits right with him. However, he’s a professional and never the type to let someone see him when he’s at his lowest. With a straightened back and squared shoulders, Han-Byul begins his statement.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the city, my name is Prism and as you all know, I’m the current leader of the Omegas. We are tasked with protecting the lives of the innocent, both mutants and non-mutants. Recently, we were given the mission to watch over and protect Mayor Peter Webber, sending one of our own to act as one of his bodyguards.” His eyes fall on Yazmín, the young mutant standing beside him with a cold stare and a rigid body. “Despite our best efforts to protect the mayor, we—” Failed. The words fall from his tongue but it doesn’t feel like he’s the one saying it. He can see the questions that are ready to leap out of their mouths, the hunger in their eyes, beasts. They were all beasts. “However, this doesn’t mean that our mission ends here. We’re now undergoing an investigation to look for and capture the person behind this. Once we find this individual, we’ll bring justice to all of you but also Mayor Webber.”

There are questions, lots of them, and he answers, some of them. There isn’t enough or maybe that’s what he tries to tell himself as Yazmín takes his place to read over her apology. He’s listening but also not, he’s mainly just watching her and the crowd. Even though she was there acting as a bodyguard, she’s a suspect. Just because of her ability, just because she’s a mutant, just because they needed a scapegoat.

OOC INFORMATION:

Mayor Peter Webber died on August 14th, 1997 and his funeral was held on the 17th. Various radio talk shows and news articles report on his death. Your muse can react however they want to this!

The masked killer is Daichi Kato (played by Admin Kashia). No muse is aware of him killing the mayor, outside of Magneto. Yazmín is under the suspicion of partaking.

This marks the true beginning of The Brotherhood showing themselves to everyone, which also means they’re recruiting people in. Your muse has the decision to join them but be aware of the true purpose of The Brotherhood! The spots are unlimited.

If you play a Xavier student or staff member, things will be tense as Charles plans on what to do next.

And that’s the way the pussy crumbles.

#c23plotdrop #murder cw #death cw #murder tw #death tw

11 notes · View notes

yyxy-seph · 3 years

Text

Post Insane! Sephiroth X Black girl! Reader

𝒪𝓃𝑒 𝓌𝒾𝓃𝑔, 𝓈𝒾𝓁𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝓁𝑜𝒸𝓀𝓈 pt.1

Part 2

Part 3

Warning: SUPER fucking cheesy! And I’m a relatively new FFVII fan so some of my wordings might be kind of weird. But if you want more content like this from me, just hit the heart!

Also, I’ve changed some of the events in the storyline. Avalanche hasn’t attacked Shinra just yet! But Sephiroth has already had his insane streak.

Context: Zack & Cloud set Y/N up on a blind date w/ Seph! Here, we will discover an interesting history between Seph and the reader as well as witness their adorable date!

————-

“Y/N, come here.” Zack ordered once more. I let out another sigh of frustration at how he had set me up on a blind date with no warning.

He said that he was tired of watching me worry over the thought of not being able to find a fine man, get married, and have kids as a SOLDIER.

So he set me up on a blind date with a tiny bit of input from Cloud. I know right? As if he really cares about stuff like this. But Cloud has been acting really strange about it and it kinda upsets me how they’re making plans without my input.

Before I left the SOLDIER territory, Cloud showed up just to tease me. On my way out he said “He’ll never be just a memory to you, you love him too much.”

What does that even mean? He also said that this guy I’d be meeting is a pretty, popular ex- SOLDIER.

Zack told me not to lift one finger in preparation for the date since he was planning it all. He even picked my outfit.

A little black dress with a turtleneck, low slit in the front, and cinched waist. It also had silver buttons and bows along the back. The heels were probably the most interesting part though.

They were gladiator-style, thigh-high sandals with a chunky heel. But, they weren’t just ordinary heels. They had a shuriken intruding in the back that could also be used during battle. How stylish!

I gotta give it to Zack. He could be a part-time stylist. He even called the shoes “cute and dangerous”.

He entered my view with his regular gleam in his eyes.

“I think you’ll really like this guy. He’s just your type-badass, first-class...well, former SOLDIER, long hair, certainly committed, and kinda fucking crazy-“

“I’m not sure if that description helped much for my worries.” I cut him off.

He laughed nervously but continued, reassuring me it’d be ok.

“But no really, you’re just his type too! Pretty, curvy, great fighter, determined. He really likes bad girls, and to me, you’re pretty damn bad on the field. You can fight your ass off! Proves why you’re first-class!”

A smile spread across my face.

“That’s very sweet of you, Zack. That’s why you’re my best friend!”

He beamed in return. “No problem. But one more thing before you go in.” He said more seriously.

“Okay...”

“If he goes bat-shit crazy again and tries to hurt you, yell for me as loud as you can. Promise me.”

“Again?? And I can handle myself, Zack.”

“I know you can! Just promise me.” He said, holding my hands and tightening his grip.

“Fine. I promise.”

“Now go blow his mind with those mako-infused eyes!”

I chuckled at his words and went into the room, one step at a time in my heels.

It was a restaurant. The walls were painted the vermillion shade of red. Black stripes were also painted in certain spots, accentuating a romantic vibe.

“Where is he, where is he?” I asked myself with each step. I was starting to get nervous. All those years of fighting off countless enemies and this is what has me the most anxious and uncomfortable.

Just then, I spotted a man sitting by himself as if he was waiting on someone to join. He had silver locks from what I could see but his head was turned to the kitchen of the restaurant so his face remained mysterious.

I sat down on the empty seat in front of him, curious to meet this man.

He turned his head swiftly, to the sound of me placing my hands on the glass table.

“Hey- SEPHIROTH??”

His cutely shaped lips rose in attraction.

“Hello, princess.” He responded.

I was completely and utterly shocked. Sephiroth, the best warrior in Shinra. The guy who lost his mind and caused the Nibelheim incident. The guy who is somehow still good looking to me even after all the fucked up shit he did. The silver haired man of my dreams who broke my heart when I was younger.

Even though we’ve had little to do with each other in the past, he still meant a lot to me until he faded from my mind. That is, after he went insane.

He liked me, I liked him. It was evident. We were young and in the SOLDIER program. He took up my mental space rather than training. I liked him that much. But he was more focused on his training and never considered dating. He just thought I was a pretty face and that we’d be nothing more.

He worked his way up to first class through his amazing fighting ability while I stayed behind due to my lack of interest. Fighting was just a thing to do. It was never too important to me.

The night before the Nibelheim incident, we shared a kiss. He snuck to my dorm out of curiosity (and desperation due to his previous conversation with Genesis), it seemed. He said, “ if we were to have a relationship, I need to have a good fighter and a good kisser. If you fail at one thing, you must perfect the other. Otherwise, we never know what could be.”

I sat up on my bed and pressed my lips against his. He leaned in more, deepening it. Soon, we were making out. Until, we weren’t.

He just left after that. No words were spoken. He just slid on his coat and left.

The next night, he’d lost his mind. And once the word had spread that this happened, my heart was instantly broken.

I thought things like, ‘Why would he do such a thing?’, ‘He didn’t love me.’, ‘I would’ve been there for him through all this chaos’, ‘He just played with my emotions and used me’, ‘He didn’t like the kiss’, and so on.

With my new wound, I decided to nurture it by taking my frustrations out during training. I trained as hard as I could, making my way up to first class. Everyone was shocked, especially Cloud. He thought he’d never see the day that I took training seriously.

But here I am. And now I’m in front of my past love, Sephiroth, who never seemed to care about me and... now does? Why did Zack set me up like this?

“I-I can’t believe I’m on this date with you right now.” I admitted with crossed arms and growing hatred.

His green cat-like eyes sparkled under the florescent lights. “Sure, you can’t. But you are. And there’s no turning back now.”

“Oh, yes there is.” I shot back while getting up.

He leaned forward over the table and laid his hand on top of mine, grasping it in his clutch. “I left you...and I’m sorry for that, but I’m not letting you leave.”

He flashed another attractive glare while more of his long hair fell over his shoulder, revealing once more that it was him.

Uh, I hate myself for still thinking he’s handsome.

“Why should I stay?” I asked, half-way giving in already.

“Because I won’t hurt you like I did before.”

I sighed, still being disappointed.

“Tuh, it’s only a matter of time before you’re blowing my head off or impaling me with your masamune.”

“Baby, I would never, never you.” He stated with promising eyes.

The nickname caught me off guard, making me fall a bit more for him.

“Just sit down and I’ll tell you everything. I swear. The truth and nothing but.”

I gazed down at his hand, still caressing mine, and back up at his green eyes.

I can’t believe I’m giving into this.

“Start talking.”

He began while I sat back down.

“I never meant to hurt you, really. I just didn’t intend to be in a relationship at that time or do the things I did the next night.”

“Why did you get my hopes up that night then?” I questioned, still being defensive.

“I-I just c-couldn’t control myself. I didn’t know how I felt about you. But now I do.”

“And now I’m supposed to sit here and take you back just like that? What about how I feel?” I replied and continued.

“Will you be able to control yourself if I piss you off one day, or is that the old Seph?” How do I know you’re telling me the truth and not just using me again?”

“Y/N, I don’t expect you to believe me or take me back but just hear me out.”

“I’m waiting...”

“The night I found out the entirety of my origins, I just couldn’t deal. I’d been lied to my whole life so far and had a deep feel for anger and assassination. I hated Shinra, I hated everything. My mind had gone elsewhere and that wasn’t me. I’ve calmed down and found the real reason for my existence. And that’s being a great SOLDIER, saving the planet, being the fine man you wanted, and giving you the world.”

Not gonna lie, his words were really touching. I could see the sincerity in him. But I still wasn’t ready to give in just yet.

“It’s that easy?” I asked.

“It’s only that easy if you show me the way. I need you. I want you.”

More silence and confliction rolled through me as I started realizing he might be telling the truth.

#ffvii sephiroth #ffvii #ffvii x reader #sephiroth x reader #black reader #yyxy-seph

43 notes · View notes

skdubbs · 4 years

Text

Let Love Find You

Chapter 1: An Awkward Introduction

Summary: Love has a funny way of finding you when you’re not looking for it. Commander Fox discovered this the hard way when a box arrived on base and pique his interest.

Here it is. I can’t believe I'm finally doing this. A huge huge HUGE shoutout and thank you to @detroitbydark for all of the encouragement, feedback, and listening to my ramblings about this story. You’re the best.

This story will be the first in a collection of three interconnected stories taking place at the same time. I hope you all enjoy!

It all started with a box.

Commander Fox of the Coruscant Guard stared at the parcel currently sitting on his desk amidst piles of carefully cataloged holopads. The contents of said package laid innocently next to the box. He’d had part of it scanned and tested, twice. Absolutely nothing alarming to be found. And yet Fox was still unsettled.

In the year since taking up his post, he’d never been rendered speechless. Well, today the boys could mark it down in the books. Truly, the commander didn’t know what to say. Or think. Or do. The mental conundrum Fox found himself in was beyond exasperating. Sighing, Fox shook his head, then glanced at the flimsi note he held. Once more, he read the delicately written script.

To: Commander Fox of the Coruscant Guard

Dear Sir,

I’m sure this package and its contents might cause alarm and confusion. Please don’t allow it to do either. This is simply a token to express my thanks to the troopers involved with the skirmish in the market district on Level 3 nearly four rotations ago. Their actions saved my life and that of my daughter. When we expressed our gratitude, my daughter felt the shock trooper didn’t think we were sincere. Hence, this small gift. I ask that you please see to it that the troopers involved receive this token and understand how grateful we were for their timely arrival. For there are citizens on this planet who are aware of the services the Guard provides to ensure our continued safety and peace. Thank you for your help in this matter.

Sincerely,

Arissa Blunt

Fox knew without looking it up what skirmish Ms. Blunt referred to, as well as the troopers involved. Reach’s report had made mention of the two citizens he’d pulled away from the fire fight, a young woman and child. Interestingly enough, Fox had also heard through the guard barrack’s grapevine that Reach spent most of that night crowing about a civvie thanking him and how pretty she’d been. According to Reach, her body was a man’s wet dream.

At the time Fox had scoffed and pushed the matter out of his mind. He had far more important matters to contend with than one of his trooper’s infatuations. All of the men would have one at some point or other. It was a natural result with overexposure to civilians after a lifetime of social isolation. Fox was one of the few he knew to never fall to such an affliction. That didn’t mean he hadn’t dabbled and explored his options. The commander had simply never experienced the magic of someone capturing his attention for more than a moment of a little physical pleasure. Until now.

Commander Fox was intrigued, all because of a box of homemade ginger spice cookies, a short note, and an infatuated trooper’s embellished description. Again, Fox sighed. Maker, he needed a drink. And it wasn’t even 1200 yet.

He commed Captain Stone, the squad leader there on the day in question.

“This is Stone,” came the greeting.

“Captain, round up the troopers involved in the skirmish on Level 3, I’m sure you remember the one,” Fox instructed. “They’ve got a gift waiting for them in my office. Apparently Reach’s story wasn’t completely fabricated.”

There was a beat of stunned silence. It was brief, but Fox knew it for what it was. Shock. “Right away, sir,” Stone replied.

Fox disconnected, then turned to inspect the baked goods still sitting on his desk. Ginger spice cookies. Homemade, no less. Damn, they smelled good.

Fox smirked. What the men didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. He plucked one cookie from the pile, taking a small bite to test the flavor. A groan of delight broke past his lips. This was one of the best frekkin’ things he’d ever had the pleasure of eating, and that's saying something. After all, the position of Commander of the Coruscant Guard afforded certain luxuries and privileges that few other clones were allowed.

The commander took another bite, savoring the taste. What he wouldn’t give to have something this good to eat every day. His eyes found the note again, sitting on his desk in stark contrast to everything else. Arissa Blunt. One has to wonder what kind of woman she was. Fox had every intention of finding out.

-----

After giving the boys their gift (the looks of shock and delight on their faces had caused a grin on his), Fox decided to investigate. It took little effort to find the information he needed. Another perk to his position.

Arissa Blunt, single human female aged 22 standard years. Currently a member of the Republic military’s research and development division located here on base. His brows had raised at that. He merely needed to leave his office and walk across the facility in order to find her. Her focus was prototype military-grade weapons. So, she worked on creating better ways for his brothers on the front to do their job. While he didn’t know her, Fox felt a swell of appreciation for this woman.

He was shocked and intrigued to find she held her position with no formal training. Instead, Ms. Blunt came into the program through the recommendation of a member of the board. It was highly irregular. Perhaps some nepotism was involved? But that made no sense either. According to her file, Ms. Blunt had no living relatives, only a young daughter named Gemma. Cute name, he’d thought.

Out of curiosity, Fox looked her up too. Gemma Blunt, single human female aged 5 standard years. Currently enrolled on scholarship at a school for gifted young children located noooo in a more well-to-do area of the upper levels. So, the kid was smart.

A part of Fox was impressed. And even more intrigued, especially as he gazed at Ms. Blunt’s photo. Reach hadn’t exaggerated, she was quite pretty. Not in the glamour model sort of way. But you could see the potential lying underneath her cute veneer should she ever try to be one. And those eyes….well, they’d surprised him too. Most humans didn’t have violet colored eyes, at least not naturally. But on her they were stunning. They drew you in and spoke volumes. As if the secrets they held were more than just her own. She could know yours without you evening realizing. A fanciful thought perhaps, but there all the same.

And that is why Commander Fox found himself making the long trek to the R&D division on base a few hours later. Amazingly, he had an hour free. Plenty of time to pay Ms. Blunt a visit. He could convey the men’s appreciation and slake his curiosity.

He’d found a technician by the name of A’tron Rogers when he arrived. The man had the audacity to scoff at him when he stated who he was looking for. Fox wisely kept his helmet on, knowing full well what kind of person he was dealing with. It was rather obvious what Mr. Rogers thought of clones and about doing anything for them. One had to wonder why he was in a position that required him to help create weapons that helped said clones.

“Yeah, she’s back here,” he’d snapped. “Follow me.”

Resisting the urge to call the man on his insubordination, Fox followed. They made their way further back into the lab and came to a stop at what looked to be some kind of long range canon. However, the weapon wasn’t what caught Fox’s attention.

Fox froze, his brain gone blank. Before his eyes, bent over at just the right angle, was perhaps the most perfectly shaped ass he’d ever seen. His mouth watered while his blood rushed south. Mentally, he cursed. This was not a good way to start an introduction.

“Blunt!” Rogers practically screeched, trying to get the technician's attention. It certainly did the trick, albeit in a painful way. Arissa’s head shot up, caught by surprise, only to have it collide with the paneling of the prototype she’d been working on. A string of low muttered curses followed the loud clang. Fox winced in sympathy.

After a moment or two, Arissa straightened, seemed to take a steadying breath, then turned to face them. Her eyes widened for a fraction of a second when they landed on him. However, she recovered quickly, her face becoming unreadable as she turned to her coworker.

Fox wished he could say the same. That beautiful shebs he’d been staring at not long ago should have warned him at what else he’d see. Because, by the maker, Reach hadn’t exaggerated. Not one bit. Arissa Blunt truly was a man’s wet dream. Her hair was up and covered, but he didn’t need to see the dark brown wavy locks again to know how it finished the masterpiece that stood before him. Even wearing coveralls covered in grease splotches couldn’t detract from that hourglass figure or the small waist. And her breasts. By Fett, they were a handful and more. So much more. Again, Fox was grateful he’d chosen to keep his bucket on. He’d have looked like a gaping fool otherwise.

Arissa addressed Rogers, her voice even and devoid of emotion. “Did you need something, Rogers?”

The shorter man huffed, obviously put out by her lack of response to him. Fox made a mental note of that. Maybe it wasn’t just clones the man had a problem with. “You’ve got a visitor. Commander Fox here needs to speak with you.”

The technician’s gaze swung over to him, that violet gaze holding him captive. Again, he noticed a moment of trepidation, as if she feared his presence. Fox scowled, annoyance flaring. Her reaction was classic for a citizen. They either looked at him and his brothers with fear or disdain. He wasn’t sure which pissed him off more.

“I see,” she replied. “Well, I’m due a fifteen anyway. If you need me, we’ll be in the conference room.”

Rogers snorted, then left. Yup, that chakaaryc really didn’t like Arissa Blunt. Fox focused his attention on the woman before him. As he looked closer, her nerves became more obvious. What did she have to be nervous about?

“Ms. Blunt,” he greeted, his voice stiff and formal.

“Commander Fox,” she greeted in return. Grabbing a rag, she wiped her hands off, then motioned for him to follow her. “Whatever you need to tell me, it’d be best said in the conference room. Otherwise, everyone else in the department will know about it before the end of the day. You wouldn’t think it, but the lot here are as bad as a bunch of gossiping housewives.”

Nodding, he followed. As they left the lab and made their way down the hallway, Fox couldn’t help his eyes from looking. The sway of those hips were going to haunt him. Another curse ran through his mind.

Soon enough they reached their destination, Arissa gesturing him inside. He took up a position further in, standing at attention while he waited for her to shut the door.

“Would you rather sit, Commander?”

“No thank you, miss. But please don’t stand on my account. Have a seat.”

He patiently waited while Arissa got comfortable. Once she seemed settled, he dove right in. “I assume you know why I’m here?”

That flash of trepidation was back. It was gone immediately, but still, he saw it.

“I think so,” she quietly answered. Her tongue came out to wet her lips. Despite himself, Fox felt a knee jerk reaction to the tiny movement. Maker, this needed to stop. Now.

“Then explain yourself,” he ordered.

That got her attention. Arissa straightened, her brows furrowed in confusion. “Explain myself? I thought the note I left was pretty self-explanatory.”

“Perhaps,” he hedged. “However, your reaction to my appearance here would say otherwise. I thought you appreciated what the guard does for the citizens of Coruscant. Someone who is appreciative doesn’t respond with fear in their eyes.”

Arissa’s eyes widened, first in shock, then in anger. However, when she next spoke, her voice remained even. “From my point of view, your sudden appearance here is rather suspect. Troopers, let alone commanders, don’t make random visits to this part of the base. Any fear you saw was my worry that I’d done something wrong.”

That made Fox pause, considering. Her words in the note had sounded sincere. And someone who feared or hated clones wouldn't have sent something in the first place, not without it having some sort of repercussion. Perhaps she had a point. Finally, Fox relaxed his stance.

“I suppose your reaction would make sense then,” he conceded. “I apologize for alarming you, Ms. Blunt.”

She shrugged. “Don’t worry about it, you couldn’t have known. I’m sorry I gave you the impression I was like all those ungrateful idiots out there.”

Fox stared at her. Well, that was certainly one way of putting it. Apparently Ms.Blunt lived up to her name. He cleared his throat. “Now that that’s settled, would you mind explaining to me why you felt the need to do such a thing?”

Arissa started fiddling with a loose thread of her coveralls. A nervous tick. “I already told you in the note I sent with the package. My daughter thought the trooper who helped us didn’t believe we meant what we said. I was helping to make him see otherwise.”

A scoff escaped him. “Forgive my own cynicism then. I’m used to people having ulterior motives. It’s my job to find them.” He shrugged. “So, it’s a little hard to believe there wasn’t something else behind your actions, appreciated as they are.”

While he knew he was being something of a di’kut, Fox needed to know. He wasn’t lying. Any civilian he’d ever met had some sort of ulterior motive, most often to the detriment of his men.

She didn’t speak for a while, sitting there in quiet contemplation. Then, those violet orbs caught the gaze of his visor and held it. She wanted to get this right, he realized. She wanted him to believe her. “Maybe because men who didn’t have a choice in choosing this life deserve something good once in a while.”

Speechless, that’s what he was. She said it so plainly and without artifice. Fox knew she meant it, every word.

“I see,” he replied, voice quiet and low. “Well, allow me to express my gratitude and that of my men. It may not seem like much, but those sweets were the first gift any of those men have ever received. It might be the only one.”

“You’re very welcome, Commander Fox.” Her voice was quiet too, her eyes soft and understanding. How Fox wished he could get lost in them for more than just a few minutes. It was time to go. Now.

“You’ll excuse me then, Ms. Blunt, for taking up your time. Thank you for seeing me on such short notice. I’ll see myself out.” Fox made to do just that, not leaving her a chance to say anything in return. He was almost to the door when-----

“Commander, could I ask a favor?”

Fox stopped, then looked over his shoulder. Here it comes. “What is it?”

Arissa gulped, her nerves showing once more. Fox smirked. Already in such a short amount of time, Fox knew he’d enjoy setting her on edge on a regular basis. It was a shame their paths likely wouldn’t cross again.

“I know this may seem silly, but would you be willing to write a short note to my daughter? I know it’d mean the world to her to hear how much the troopers that helped us enjoyed the cookies.”

“Can’t you just tell her?”

“I could,” she allowed. “But she might think I’m lying. Sometimes she has a hard time believing things if she doesn’t have evidence. Finding out you came to tell me yourself just how much the gift was appreciated will be suspect without some kind of proof.”

“Is your daughter really that cynical?”

Arissa laughed, shaking her head. Fox had to admit she had a lovely laugh. Fett, he was going soft. “No, not cynical, commander. Just a child who needs encouragement that something is real when she’s had so many other disappointments.”

While Fox was curious as to what she meant by that statement, he didn’t ask. Honestly, what was the harm in writing the kid something? There was none. Besides, he was more than happy to do it.

“Well, I’d hate to disappoint.”

The smile she gave him made an answering one pull at his lips. Thankfully, his helmet hid the sight. Yeah, this was definitely not good.

------

“Mommy! You’re home!” Gemma squealed in happiness as Arissa stepped through the door. Arissa was barely inside before her five-year-old daughter wrapped her tiny arms around her torso and squeezed.

Arissa paused, soaking the moment in. A smile pulled at her lips while the hint of tears teased her eyes. This right here made everything worth it. The ridiculously long days. The demeaning remarks and catty behavior from her coworkers. This was her why, the reason she kept putting up with everything.

She wrapped her arms around Gemma and squeezed back. “Hello to you too, Gemma. Did you miss me?”

“Yes!” Gemma pulled back, her strawberry blonde curls bouncing in her excitement. “Did you miss me?”

Arissa chuckled, ruffling her daughter’s hair. “Yes, sweetie.”

“Welcome home, Arissa. Long day?”

Arissa glanced up, making eye contact with the teenager lounging on the lumpy pale green couch in the apartment space that served as a living room. She barely withheld a grimace, thinking back over her day. “Just the usual, Trix.”

Although it really hadn’t been. Not when a certain unsettling clone commander decided to pop in and pay an unexpected visit. Gods, she’d thought for a moment there she’d done something wrong, that somehow the gift Gemma had practically begged her to make was illegal. Panic had filled Arissa, assuming the worst. But then he’d thanked her. Thanked her. Like a box of ginger spice cookies was the best gift his men had ever received. That wasn’t really too far off the mark, though, was it? And that black visor. When he’d held her gaze, Arissa had felt as if she were naked. She couldn’t remember anyone ever making her fell that way. Definitely not something one wants to feel upon meeting a commanding officer of the GAR.

Shaking her head, Arissa focused back in on the present. “Did the two of you eat yet?”

Trix suddenly appeared uncomfortable, a look of guilt flashing in her eyes. “Yeah, we did. I, um, thought it’d be nice to treat Gemma to something. We went to Dex’s Diner and had the works. Saved some for you, too.”

While she knew why Trix might feel guilty, Arissa couldn’t fault the teenager for spending the money instead of eating the leftovers in the fridge. A year of being homeless and dodging traffickers and drug dealers had done a number on Trix. The kid’s useless father had abandoned her just days after her mother passed away. And the lower levels of Coruscant were not kind to the young and innocent. Arissa knew this fact quite well. Trix was finally getting back on her feet, working at a local bakery to make some money while attending school at night to finish her primary education. She lived in the third bedroom and watched Gemma when Arissa had to work late. And Trix positively adored her. So if Trix wanted to spoil Gemma with a night of burgers and shakes, Arissa wasn’t going to complain. She was far too grateful for the help to even think of chastising the teenager for splurging.

“That sounds like a lot of fun. Thanks for thinking of me,” She smiled at Trix, hoping the teenager understood she wasn’t mad. “I can’t remember the last time I had Dex’s. Is it as good as I remember?”

Gemma giggled. “Even better! Oh, and we got to meet Dex. Did you know he’s a besalisk? I’ve never seen one before. He answered all my questions, too. Didn’t act like I was a bother or anything.”

“Of course he wouldn’t. Because he realized right away what a bright and inquisitive mind you have, sweetie.” Arissa’s heart warmed at the kindness the diner owner had unknowingly extended her daughter. Gemma truly was inquisitive, wanting to know anything and everything. And amazingly she remembered it all. However, there were some people who found the girl’s nearly constant questions an annoyance and something to discourage. It was why she’d done so poorly in school until transferring into a private academy. Thank the maker for that scholarship. She bent over and lifted Gemma up, holding the young girl as she made her way to their small kitchen table. “Now spill. How was your day?”

Asking Gemma that question was all the kiddo needed to start regaling her mother with the events of the day. Arissa listened attentively as she went about putting her dinner together. She laughed when Gemma explained how a boy in her class had water come out of his nose during lunch and praised her when told how she’d received perfect marks on yesterday’s exam. Trix stayed with them for a while, interjecting comments here and there before retreating to her room to start on her school work. They wished the sixteen-year-old good night as mother and daughter both knew they likely wouldn’t see the teenager again until morning. Arissa was done with her dinner and working on a mostly thawed nerf milkshake by the time Gemma asked how her day went.

Arissa had thought long and hard how she wanted to present her surprise. She pulled the note from her back pocket and slid it across the table’s surface. “I had an unexpected visitor today. He asked me to give you this.”

Curious, Gemma carefully unfolded the note. Even at such a young age she handled everything with a great deal of care. Violet eyes scanned the note, then widened in shock. When Gemma finally looked back up she was smiling from ear to ear. “He wrote a note. He really wrote a thank you note!”

The smile breaking across Arissa’s face almost hurt. Seeing her daughter’s happiness at something so small was beyond precious. Mentally, she filed the image away to remember when the moody teenager years hit. “I was told not to read it. That it was top secret until your eyes saw what was inside. Think you could read it to me?”

Gemma nodded enthusiastically.

“It says: Dear Miss Gemma. Thank you for the lovely gift of ginger spiced cookies. I have shared your present with the troopers involved in the skirmish four rotations ago in the market. They were very surprised and grateful for your thoughtfulness. They rarely get a thank you for their work. Your mother tells me you are a bright student and love to learn new things. Did you know that members of the guard love uj cake? I highly recommend trying it. Please continue to do your part as a good and loyal citizen of the Republic.

Sincerely,

Commander Fox of the Coruscant Guard.”

The excitement radiating off of Gemma was contagious. She truly was happy from Commander Fox’s words. Arissa sent a silent thank you to the commander for taking the time to fulfil her request. Maybe she could find a way to let him know how much his note meant. But he must be very busy. Why would he care about any of this?

If he didn’t care, why would he bother in the first place? He could have said no.

“Do you think I could write a reply, mommy?” Gemma asked. “Maybe we could make them some uj cake since they like it so much and leave a note with it like before.”

That made Arissa pause. “Perhaps. But don’t you think the rest of the guard might get jealous when only a few of them get to have some?”

Gemma’s brow furrowed as she contemplated that possibility. “I guess you’re right. I know I wouldn’t like it if only a few of my classmates kept getting something and I didn’t.” Then her face brightened. “Maybe we could make some for everyone! That way no one felt left out. Oh but,” Gemma frowned as she realized something. “That wouldn’t work either. There’s so many of them, aren't there?”

Arissa hmmed, feeling her heart squeeze with regret as her daughter’s face fell. For someone so young, she truly had a compassionate and giving nature. She wanted everyone to be happy. “I’m not sure how many there are, but yes, there are a lot of men in the guard. Far too many for us to make enough for everyone. I’m sorry sweetie.”

The evening wore on, the hours passing as the world outside transitioned from day to night. Despite her disappointment, Gemma managed to recover. They played a few games, took care of Gemma’s bath, and cuddled on the couch to watch a silly holomovie before Arissa announced it was time for bed. Arissa read a story of her daughter’s choosing, sang her a song, and kissed her good night. Once Arissa left the room, she’d make a cup of tea and curl up on the couch with a book, losing herself in the passionate romance of her current novel before heading to bed as well. It was like so many other night’s, this ritual their evenings had become. But tonight would be different.

“Mommy?”

Arissa paused, turning back to face her daughter. Only the top of her head and her eyes were visible above the fuzzy purple comforter she’d cocooned into. “What is it, sweetie?”

“Will you please tell Commander Fox thank you for writing me that note? I really did like it. And I think he’d like to know that, too.”

The breath whooshed out of Arissa’s lungs. She hadn’t expected this. But how could she refuse? “Of course, Gemma. I’ll tell him tomorrow. Now, get some sleep. You have a big day at school in the morning.”

“Can you make rainbow berry pancakes for breakfast?”

Arissa couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped, Gemma’s tone was just too hopeful. “I think I can manage that. Now, sleep little one.”

Gemma giggled, happy at her mother’s answer. “Okay, okay. Good night, Mommy. I love you.”

“I love you too, Gemma.”

Arissa closed the door and made her way to the kitchen. She tinkered around the small space, getting things ready for the morning while her tea water boiled, then steeped. Once finished, she grabbed the old and worn romance novel off her caf table, the flimsi pages yellowed with age. She happily made herself comfortable on the couch as she dove into the world of high passion…..

Five minutes later, Arissa was back in the kitchen, a notepad open to a clean page while her holopad came to life. She scrubbed a hand over her face, sighing. “I can’t believe I’m actually doing this.” As soon as the piece of technology was up and running, she began bringing up Republic military records, trying to get an accurate head count of how many men filled the ranks of the Coruscant Guard.

------

Now, while Arissa was toiling away at the kitchen table trying to work out a plan to fulfill her daughter’s wish, said daughter was busy working on another matter instead of sleeping.

Gemma waited for her holopad to boot up, reading the note from Commander Fox almost obsessively. She’d never thought in a million years her mother would come home with any kind of news about the gift she’d begged her to make. Instead, she’d brought home a note. A note! Gemma very quietly giggled, pressing her face into her pillow to better muffle the noise. She was in the next star system from how happy that little piece of flimsi had made her. The five-year-old sent a desperate plea to the gods, asking them for the chance to meet this Commander Fox. Yes, she’d asked her mom to thank him, but she wanted the chance to tell him herself how much his note meant to her. And she wanted to show him just how much she could learn when she set her mind to it.

Finally the holopad came on and Gemma brought up a search engine. Adults were always so surprised when they saw how well she could navigate tech at her age. For whatever reason, it was astonishing. Gemma didn’t pretend to understand why. Carefully, she typed in uj cake, then hit search. She skimmed over a promising article. It did sound rather yummy. Perhaps she could convince her mom to help her make some after school tomorrow and she could share it with the class. The kids would probably like that. Maybe it’d help her make a few friends.

The article said the recipe came from Mandalore. Intrigued, Gemma decided to search the planet, not knowing what she was getting herself into. What she read fascinated her. Hours went by and Gemma refused to sleep, far too invested in learning more about this old creed of warriors. She had only nodded off when her mother came to wake her, far earlier than usual.

Gemma’s groggy eyes met her mother’s. “What is it, mommy? Is something wrong?”

Arissa shook her head, a hint of mischief lighting her eyes. “No, sweetie. I just needed your help with something. How would you like to help me make some uj cake this morning? I think a certain clone commander would appreciate it.”

It took a moment for Gemma’s sleepy brain to understand exactly what her mother was saying. When she did, she shot out of bed so fast she almost knocked her mother over. Excitement took care of the exhaustion she’d felt just moments ago.

“Yes!” she exclaimed, then dashed out the door to the kitchen, her mother’s laughter following after her.

What neither realized then was how their actions that morning would come to shape the rest of their lives.....and those throughout the galaxy.

#commander fox #commander fox x original character #original female character #clone x ofc #I am so freaking excited this is finally up and going

46 notes · View notes

thatsallotadamage · 3 years

Text

An interview with a promising Hero (Fic)

Relationships nonromantic: Aizawa and Toga. Toga and the league

Warnings: small mention of suicide

Description: Toga Himiko has been captured. Nezu has a "Reforming Villians" program set up that would fit Toga perfectly. The only problem is they need to get her to talk about her story but she refuses to speak to anyone, except Aizawa for some reason.

_____

Preface this by saying in this AU Toga hasn't killed anyone. She attacks but leaves them alive, unless of course it's an attacker. )

Aizawa sat in a little room with a two way mirror and a table in front of him. It was an interviewing room, why was he here? Well for Toga Himiko of course, Nezu had a little god complex memory and started a program to reform young villians around the time Toga Himiko was captured. But the issue was the only person she was willing to talk to about her past was Aizawa. So he had to squeeze every bit if information he could from her.

He watched with interest as they brought her in. Just a week ago she was sitting in his Livingroom with a cup of hot chocolate looking just like any other teenage girl. But when they dragged her in she looked bitter and surprisingly scared. Her hands were bound, nails had been clipped and she had a dog muzzle over her mouth. "I can walk myself to the damn chair!" She snarled as she was escorted to her seat across from Aizawa. The guard let out a quick "good luck" before hurrying out and closing the door.

They sat in silence for a few minutes "Toga" he said.

She looked up at him "Don't be that way Shouta! You know you can call me Himiko" she said, her usual smile returning to her face "Now, why'd they muzzle me? You know I'm not going to bite you" she said with a pout "I really don't like being muzzled".

He raised his eyebrows and started the recording "Well, they dint trust you it know you like I do, I was pretty angry when they muzzled you" he said and yawned. "Alright let's cut to the chase already, you know Nezu wants to reform you" he sipped his coffee.

"Yep! And I know you want any information you can get in the league right?" She asked.

Aizawa nodded "But right now let's talk about you, not much known about your early life other than you ran away at the age of thirteen" he said "Mind opening up about it?".

Toga pondered for awhile "Sure, no use in hiding it anyways, it's just a classic normal villain story really" she stretched and yawned. "Mommy and daddy didn't love each other, they fought about that, they thought my quirk was gross, they fought about that, they thought my tendencies were disgusting so they fought about that" she paused and shifted in her seat. "They just fought a lot and at the end of it mom would get really violent and tell me it was my fault so one day I snapped, I'm sure you've heard of the accident where I attacked my classmate". She seemed hesitant when remembering it. "I ran away with the intent of killing myself, I was going to jump off a bridge but i couldn't go through with it, there was a guy there and he took me in and that was Dabi, he became like my big brother and I never looked back" she stopped.

Aizawa took awhile to process it all. It was difficult for home to think of the villain Dabi helping a little girl who was about to jump off a bridge back onto her feet. Hell it was difficult to imagine a parent telling their child it was all their fault and that their quirk was disgusting. Then again he had adopted Hitoshi and his background wasn't all sunshine and rainbows either. "Wasn't really sure what I was expecting but certainly not that" he said. Toga merrily laughed "Yeah I know it's weird to think about but Dabi is actually a big softie when it comes to kids and me" she smiled fondly at memories of years past.

Aizawa took a long sip of his coffee thermos, mumbling to himself how it was almost empty. "Alright, speaking of Dabi can you tell me about this league?" He asked.

She grinned "Yeah! We're like a family really" she said happily

Aizawa raised his eyebrows, he never thought a gang of criminals would ever call themselves a family so to sat he was curious wouldn't even cover it "How so?" He asked.

"Well, I told you Dabi is like a big brother but he's like the one that shows up randomly for gas money, he comes and goes" she pouted. "Shiggy is like a big brother too but the one that lives in the basement and games all day, hes a meanie" she said and tugged against her hand restraints "I itch" she complained.

"Keep talking and I'll take your cuffs off" he said. He didn't know how to feel about Toga talking about them like this, giving them nicknames and humanizing them. He was reminded Shigaraki was just a kid just a bit older than Mirio.

"Well, Kurogiri is like our dad" she giggled "He gets mad when we forget to eat or the dishwasher isn't loaded right...in fact the last thing we talked about before I got captured was him asking what I wanted for dinner and he'd have it ready when we got home" she tried not to look emotional but it was difficult. One moment she was going about her day, looking forward to a hot chicken tender meal and the next she was cuffed and muzzled at the police station being fed a bag of carrot sticks. Aizawa hated it, he hated seeing kids upset and no matter how people put it Toga was still just that, a kid, a child.

"Um" she sniffled and wiped her eyes with her wrist. "Compress and Spinner are like the fun uncles, Compress with his magic shows, he loves doing tricks and Spinner is just fun to be around when he's not brooding...those two even homeschooled me so I don't have the education level of a twelve year old" she said and couldn't look him in the eye. "I don't know what I would call Jin, he's like family but doesn't fit anywhere, hes my best friend...Twice is fun though he's my partner in crime- one time we swapped out Dabi's hair dye shampoo with normal shampoo, his hair is white" she snickered. Seemingly in a better mood talking about the rest if her 'family'. "What about you Shouta? You got family right?".

He wasn't expecting her to be asking him questions. But he knew if he didn't answer she's just get upset and refuse to talk. "Yeah I got people like that. Twenty three problem children...well twenty four if I count Mirio" he couldn't help but smile with fondness thinking about his students and kids "I got Present Mic, he's my best friend, my guy if you will" he said and downed the rest of his coffee. "That thinking you said about Kurogiri? I am the tired dad that is sick of asking all the kids if they remembered to eat, it's annoying when they don't" he said. Toga laughed and proceeded to call him a big softie. "Yeah yeah I know the kids say that every day, is there anyone else you want to add to your family?" He asked.

Without hesitation Himiko replied with "Hawksie!". Aizawa took a moment to process that, he knew Hawks had been gathering Intel for the HPSC on the league for some time now, but had it really gotten to the point that Toga thought of him as family "What?" He asked.

"Hawksie! He’s like the fun uncle, he takes me places and I've time he held me and we flew!" She laughed "He won't let me bite him though because he's a meanie, like I know his little secrets like the gloves and the chirping thing, what's the big deal?" She said. Aizawa just stared. She frowned "What? You feel bad because he's a spy don't you?" she asked.

Aizawa didn't make any movement, he shrugged and continued looking. She groaned "Look we know he's a spy already but Dabi is his friend and Shiggy cares about him, I know he thinks about me as a sibling and Kurogiri cares about him way to much, like he made him a dinner to take home once because of the stupid punishments" she said. "He and Spinner get along great and you should see when he plays Twice and Jin during go fish" she smiled a little. "He tells those Thots at the HPSC what they need to know but he hates them just as much as we do, I can't say anything else since he wouldn't appreciate me saying anymore but Hawksie is my friend and I can't wait to see him".

Aizawa listened attentively to what she had to say, It was a shock to say the least. "I see, well I won't ask about that anymore okay? How about anew topic like" he pulled out a stick note " How do you feel about this while reforming thing?" Hs asked.

Her features dropped and she started thinking "Hopeless" she said. "You can take a villain out of the league but you cant take the league our of the villain ya know?" She said. "They're always going to be my family because I had no one else... they raised me into the girl I am today" she said. "Hawksie always talked out reforming me and I doubt he didn't pull any strings to make sure I didn't wind up at Tartarus or Nanba". She looked like she was lost in thought, she took a deep breath and swung her feet back and forth. "Hawks always said the villain route is no place for a kid but what choice do I have with a blood quirk that makes me literally crazy?!" She teared up. "The only blood quirk hero I can think of is Vlad King...he's so cool but he doesn't drink blood he just expels it" she said.

Aizawa was surprised to head her call a hero cool. "To-" he stopped himself "Himiko, people with quirks labeled villainous can make the greatest heroes, I should know that since I'm trading one right now" he said. "My son is adopted, he was given up because of his quirk, he can mind control people and he's going to be the best Hero because of it" he said. "And I want to remind you not all heroes wear capes, some wear lab coats, others are first responders and therapists, a Hero's job is to help people and you don't have to have a flashy or conventionally heroic quirk to do it" he lectured.

"...Yep, 100% dad material" she said before bursting into a fit of laughter "You even got the 'please understand my lecture' face!" She wheezed.

Aizawa rolled his eyes "I get that a lot, okay last question why did you choose me of all people to interview you? You seem close with Hawks so why not him?" He asked.

Toga shrugged "Like I said, Hawks is like my uncle, besides he knows all this stuff already" he said "When they brought me to the UA place you were the first person that treated me like a person so I appreciate that" she smiled.

The buzzer sounded letting them know time was up. Toga sighed "Aw man!" She pouted. Aizawa grabbed his empty cup and stood up "I'll see you around kid, you'll find a family and make a great hero okay?" He truly believed she had potential "I better see you in my class or in Vlad's in a week or two" he said. Himiko groaned as the escorts walked in to take her away "Alright whatever Dadzawa I'll see you later" she teased.

___

"Dadzawa huh?" Hizashi asked from his spot on the couch.

"Yeah" Shouta chuckled "it has a nice ring to it".

#mr aizawa #toga+angst #toga himiko #reformed toga #mha #bnha #bnha aizawa #bnha toga #ao3 #ao3 fanfic

9 notes · View notes

ask-marcus-cally-and-ari · 3 years

Text

Only Human

Chapter 10: Downtime

Authors note: Apologies for the long delay. Schoolwork has been burying us and stress from Covid-19 has been at an all time high.

Within three days, Marcus’s mood had significantly improved. With two new allies by his side, he felt markedly more secure in his surroundings, although he still occasionally looked above him from time to time out of instinct.

He was in the back of Spyper’s van with Ari and Cally, quietly playing a game of Uno amongst themselves.

Looking up at Intelligent, he said, "Yo, big guy. You look like you wanna ask us something."

“I do, actually,” Intelligent said, setting aside his book. “You three seem really close. How long have you known each other for?”

"Six years and 348 days," Cally answered, setting down her cards.

"Technically, longer," Marcus added, "But we officially met during the summer."

6 Years and 348 Days Ago…

The rec center was alive with activity during the summer. It made sense that three random 10 year olds would be here. Marcus, Cally, and Ari were all there, going about their business. Marcus was busy taking boxing classes, Ari was attending choir lessons, and Cally intently watched a lecture on computer programming.

The classes all ended early that day, leaving the three kids not knowing where to go. So they all ended up in an empty tennis court, sitting and waiting for their parents.

To kill time, Ari fatefully began chatting with Marcus.

“Hi. My name’s Ari,” He greeted, waving to Marcus. “What’s your name?”

“Marcus. Aren’t you that short kid who sits in the front of the class?”

“Yeah, that’s me. You’re the kid who’s taking boxing lessons, right?”

“The one with anger problems,” Cally chimed in from the corner, reading a book. “Yeah, that’s him.”

Marcus threw a candy wrapper at her.

“Hey, be nice!” Ari frowned at Cally.

“It’s true, isn’t it? No point saying anything that isn’t true for the sake of one’s feelings.”

“You sound really mean.”

"I heard that once you get smart enough you stop having emotions," Marcus shrugged.

"That's a lie," Cally hissed. "I just don't see the value in being dishonest."

Marcus rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and the fact that I called you a loser that one time has nothing to do with it."

"I just refuted your theory on my lack of emotions. I can hold a grudge."

“How do you even know he has anger issues? Because he boxes?” Ari asked.

"My mom is the school secretary. She has me do a lot of the paperwork so she can go out. Some of that paperwork got Marcus to see the school therapist."

“Why does the secretary have a 10 year old doing her work? Isn’t that against the rules or something?”

"Not if the principal doesn't find out."

“So you’re being mean to Marcus even though you’re the one breaking the rules?”

“Look. Ari, right? If the people who fed and sheltered you and could kick you out if they felt so inclined and barely gave a crap about you told you to do something, would you do it?”��

“Isn’t it against the law to kick a kid out of the house?”

“Probably. Wouldn’t stop my parents.”

“You sound like you have issues. Maybe you should see the school therapist.”

“I don’t want to get landed in foster care. Too much of a risk to my psyche.”

“And being treated like sh_t by your parents isn’t?” Marcus asked.

Ari and Cally stared at Marcus. “You kiss your mother with that mouth?” Cally asked.

“Yes, actually.”

Ari whined. “Isn’t cussing bad?”

“Eh. Some people don’t like it, and my parents don’t let me swear when we’re in restaurants and things like that.”

“Wouldn’t the community rec center count as a place you shouldn’t swear?” Cally asked dryly.

“I guess, but there aren’t any adults around.”

Cally deadpanned. Ari pouted.

Leaning back, the intelligent kid pulled out some gum. “Want some?”

“What flavor is it?”

“Spearmint.”

“Eh, sure.”

“I love mint!” Ari beamed.

“Not my favorite, but I’ll take it over 5gum,” Marcus added.

“Ugh. 5gum.”

“What’s wrong with 5gum?” Ari inquired, popping a piece of gum into their mouth.

“Tastes like trash,” Marcus groused.

“It’s an insult to gum.” Cally sat. “The least horrible flavor is mint.”

“And even then, this spearmint gum beats it by a mile,” Marcus added. “I don’t see how anyone can enjoy 5gum. It’s like eating plastic.”

“Better than nothing.”

“I’ve never had 5gum before, but I’ll take you on your word,” Ari said.

Present

“So, yeah. That was fun.”

“So you three started out arguing with each other, and now you three are basically inseparable,” Intelligent remarked, leaning back in his seat. “A lot must have happened in those six years.”

“Yeah. For one thing, we became study partners. I had to tie Cally to a chair to keep her from doing all the work for us.”

“I was not that bad, Marcus.”

Ari winced. “Well...”

3 Years Ago…

“Cally, this is a GROUP project! That means we ALL have to work on this!” Marcus shouted, taking the papers away from Cally.

“You guys did a lot of the research. And you know I’m a better writer than you,” Cally reasoned, reaching for the papers again.

“Yeah, right! You were the one hogging all the research, and you’re the one who’s been doing all the writing so far! I know you’re a good writer, but you can’t just hog the entire project!” Marcus protested, holding the papers out of Cally’s reach. “Just about the only thing you haven’t tried to do yourself are the visual aids!”

"Ari can do those."

“Exactly! That’s the only thing Ari’s been able to do with you hogging everything else!”

“I just want us to get a good grade!”

“And we will get a good grade! But ya gotta let us help, too!”

Cally sighed, sitting back down. “Alright, alright.”

“Thank you. Now let's get on with this,” Marcus said, dividing the papers equally between himself, Cally, and Ari.

Present

"Okay, maybe I was a little too overbearing. But my grade was on the line!"

“Cally, calm down. We got a perfect A on that assignment,” Marcus assured.

“I know,” Cally granted. “And then you almost got suspended three months later.”

Marcus scowled and grumbled to himself, folding his arms at the memory.

“I still think punching that guy in the face was overkill,” whined Ari.

“It was not!” Marcus protested.

Cally raised an eyebrow.

2 Years and 9 Months Ago…

“Violence was unnecessary,” Cally pointed out as she wrapped up Marcus’s hand.

“Then that kid shouldn’t have ran off with my notebook!” Marcus snapped, wincing as Cally tightened the bandages around his hand.

“You could have taken it back. Most everyone is scared of you anyway, given how your fight with Albert ended.”

“That kid wouldn’t give me it back, even after I asked!”

“And you decided to punch him in the face instead of just snatching it,” Cally added.

“Both of those are mean,” complained Ari.

“It was MY notebook!”

“Still,” Cally frowned. “Your temper could get you hurt.”

Marcus grumbled something, hissing as Cally started patching up another scratch.

“Please stop moving.”

“But it hurts!”

“And?” Cally deadpanned.

“Cally,” Ari pouted.

“I know. Sorry, Marcus. I’m just worried, you know? I don’t want your temper getting you hurt one day.”

“I know, I know. But I’ve got it covered, alright? I’ll be fine. I can handle it,” Marcus assured. He grunted and rolled his shoulders once Cally was done bandaging his wounds. “F_ck, I’m gonna be sore in the morning…”

“Yeah, you are,” Cally sighed. “And try not to swear in front of Ari. You know he hates it.”

“Sorry Ar, force of habit,” Marcus apologized.

Ari hugged Marcus. “It’s okay.”

Present

“And now here we are. Honestly, I wish all our problems were that I was a control freak over grades and Marcus punched people out.”

Marcus nodded. “Preach.”

“But they aren’t. Superbeings want to rip our guts out because we apparently can stop a world-ending event,” Cally sighed.

Marcus folded his arms and thought for a moment. “What are we even supposed to do to stop it, anyways? Is there a superweapon we have to stop? Do we have to go to space and bring down a spaceship or something?”

“I dunno.”

“Hmmm...Hey, big guy! Do you know?”

“Sorry, I have no idea what the others are planning. Me and Spyper have barely heard anything about this whole situation,” Intelligent sighed.

“Well, what have you heard?” Ari asked earnestly.

Intelligent paused for a moment and closed his book. “I don’t know if it’ll help much, but I have heard that the Freaks found something they could use to turn everyone on the planet into Freaks. What that thing is, where it’s being kept, or if it can be destroyed, I don’t know.”

"Sh@t. Anyone you know who may know something?"

Spyper glanced to the back of his van. “We do know someone who may know. She works for HECU.”

"I count four who fit that description," Cally said, eyes taking on a pink tint.

Spyper paused. “Is Rudra included in that count?”

"Yes. So is the scientist everyone is scared of for some reason."

“Oh. Yeah, that would be Anita.”

"What's her deal?"

Ari shifted. “Is she evil?”

“Well...I wouldn’t say she’s evil, but she is crazy,” Spyper shrugged.

“How crazy?”

“She builds weapons of mass destruction for fun.”

“And wants to dissect us for ‘science.’”

“Hmm… don’t like that,” Marcus winced.

“Don’t worry, she’s not as evil as Brutal and his pals.”

“That’s good,” Ari nodded.

“But enough about that. We need information. And to get to safety. Spyper?” Intelligent turned to his buddy, who grinned and started his van.

#only human #freak fortress #spyper #intelligent heavy #marcus #ari #cally

11 notes · View notes

the-story-of-the-tucks · 4 years

Text

Just breathe

(Alice and Alfred get to audition for a theater college! But what happens when Alfred starts to have a panic attack mid audition?

TW: descriptive panic attack

(I projected myself onto Alfred for the first time, it was fun. Shoutout to the West of words discord for screaming about theater kids! alice/alfred so much. I love every single one of y'all <3)

Also posted on AO3 by @the_story_of_the_tucks

Alfred was sitting backstage while his best friend, Alice nailed her audition song.

Since they were little they always knew they would be actors someday. That dream grew into a reality when they started middle school and got into the theater program.

He remembers it like it was yesterday-

They were putting up a production of grease junior and the pair was so excited to be part of it. Sure they didn't get big roles since it was their first year but they fell in love with theater more than ever.

They started to get bigger roles until they ended up performing in the show Wonderland their senior year. Alice -of course- playing Alice and Alfred playing the white rabbit. Just like they have done so many times when they read the book.

He was so freaking proud of her for landing the leading role. Alice had an amazing voice and absolutely deserved everything.

Even now, she was on stage singing Whispering from Spring awakening to the judges who will determine if they get into this college or not.

That's why Alfred felt like he should run while he can. He did not consider himself as someone with stage fright since he could always perform in front of a crowd when he did his high school musicals.

But this was not a high school musical.

This was an audition that will determine his future. Will he get into the college of his dreams with her best friend? or will he fail at the audition and go to a normal college, leaving Alice behind and shattering his dreams?

He started to feel anxious a week before the auditions, everything became too real for Alfred.

This was not a silly high school audition were it didn’t even matter if he got ensemble or the fucking scarecrow from Wizard of Oz.

This was real life and had real life stakes. The teacher was not gonna take pity on him and cast him anyways! If he was not perfect in the audition he could kiss goodbye to his dreams.

So he started practicing a lot.

He read his song over and over again, sometimes staying past midnight and skipped meals just so he could study the lyrics.

He chose Tonight at eight from the musical She loves me. He knew it was a mouthful of a song but it also showcased his vocal range and acting skills.

“It's fitting since you always seem to be nervous about everything” Alice joked when Alfred told her which song he was auditioning with. At the moment they laughed about it but right now Alfred felt like throwing up from the nerves.

He just needed to calm down and concentrate on something else, how hard could it be?

Alice was still singing-

Her sweet but powerful voice filled the whole building and made Alfred´s heart melt. He could hear how much emotion she was putting on the song. She was not Alice at the moment; she was Wendla Bergmann, and she was fucking great at it.

-Listening... For the hope, for the new life— Something beautiful, a new chance. Hear, it's whispering, There, again…-

She held the last note at the end and then there was just silence. He heard her say her thank yous and then she ran backstage to Alfred´s arms.

“You did amazing!” Alfred smiled widely while hugging and spinning her a bit.

Alice laughed melodically “Thanks! I think the judges liked it too!” She was grinning like crazy, still having the rush from performing onstage.

They both stayed there, giggling for a few seconds as if nothing else in the world mattered but them. Then they hear Alfred's name called out on the speaker.

“Hallam, Alfred?”

He froze. He was not prepared for this! What was he even thinking? He was just going to turn around and get home just to not get humiliated in front of the judges.

Alice saw the look of panic in his face and held his hand. “Hey, hey-, you're gonna do great” she placed her hand in his shoulder to confort him “just don't get nervous, ok? you already practiced and you know everything by heart” she winked.

“Right” Alfred, nodded trying to convince himself “I’m fine- I’m not nervous at all-”

“Alfie, your hands are shaking”

“shit” Alfred held both of his hands at his chest and took a deep breath trying to calm down.

“You can do this” Alice smiled and squeezed his shoulder.

He can do this.

Alfred stood in front of the jury paralyzed by fear for what felt like forever but it was probably a few seconds.

“I- uh Hello” He cringed at how his voice sounded. “My name is Alfred Hallam and I will be performing Tonight at eight by the musical She loves me”

His hands were still shaking and he tried to crack his knuckles to cover it.

He squeezed his eyes shut for a few seconds and exhaled

He can do this

-I'm nervous and upset Because this girl I've never met-

He started singing, ok so far so good.

-I get to meet Tonight at eight-

He almost smiled, he was actually doing great!

-I'm taking her to dinner At a charming old cafe, But who can eat Tonight at eight?-

Alfred made the mistake of glancing at the judges' table and saw them writing something down in their notepads. shit.

Were they writing something good about him? something bad?

-It's early in the morning, And our date is not till eight o'clock tonight, And yet already I can see What a nightmare this whole day will be-

Maybe he had to get into the character a bit more? that's it! but he couldn't concentrate at all, his heart was beating too loudly and he felt the jury’s eyes burning holes at him.

-I haven't slept a wink, I only think Of our approaching tete-a-tete, Tonight at eight.-

'C’mon Alfred' he thought. 'Just fucking concentrate on the song and don’t think about the jury watching you, or your too loud beating heart, or the fact that your hands started shaking again, or-'

-I feel a combination Of depression and elation; What a state! To wait Till eight!-

Why did he feel like he was getting out of breath? did the jury notice? were they writing on their notepads again?

-Three more minutes, two more seconds, ten more hours to go!-

He felt the room getting smaller and hotter.

-In spite of what I've written, She may not be very- very-

He paused.

God, what was the word? his mind was too foggy to think and it was getting harder and harder to breathe.

“Mr Hallam?” One of the people in the jury asked “Are you alright?”

Was he? Alfred couldn't breathe at all. His hands were shaking and his heart felt like it was threatening to fall out of his chest.

“Mr Hallam, do you need a minute?”

“I uh-” He swallowed thickly, forcing himself to talk “I’m sorry-”

And with that he ran backstage.

Alfred managed to reach the stairs outside the theater and sit down.

His hand were still shaking and they were starting to feel numb. He tried to wipe the sweat that was dripping down from his forehead but he couldn't control his hands enough to do it.

And worst of all? He felt like there was and elephant sitting on his chest.

Alfred couldn’t help but repeat the moment in his head.

He choked in front of the jury who would decide if he went to the school of his dreams or not- He forgot a song he had known all his life and had been practicing non stop for at least a month-

All those sleepless nights were for absolutely nothing- The judges probably thought that if he got freaked out by a simple audition he will most likely get worse in an actual play or with any performance.

What was he even thinking? he’s never gonna have a future as an actor! he’d probably was gonna end up being thirty and working in an office while Alice wins her third tony award and he won’t even be able to attend to the ceremony because he’d have to do the office reports or else he’ll get fired and-

“Alfie?”

He heard a familiar voice and looked up only to face the one and only Alice spencer.

He wanted to talk, he wanted to tell her he was okay and that she didn’t need to worry or make a fuss about him but only choked sobs came out of his mouth every time he tried to explain.

“Hey hey it’s ok-” Alice tried to soothe him, she gently took Alfred’s shaky hand and squeezed it.

“Try to match my breathing, ok?” she started to inhale and exhale slowly and Alfred tried to follow suit.

They have done this many times when they were kinds, whether it be because he was having an asthma attack and couldn’t find his inhaler, a panic attack or he was just freaking out. He could guarantee that Alice was gonna be always by his side helping him breathe.

But it was not gonna be like that after college started, right?

“I fucked it up” He whispered between shaky breaths “I- I got too nervous and I choked mid audition”

“I know” Alice just squeezed his hand tighter, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“My future is ruined-”

“Hey, no its not” she said simply “We can go back and talk to the jury and explain you were having a panic attack”

“I-I can’t go back there! I don’t even know if they’ll even hear me and-”

“Alife” Alice looked directly at his green eyes “You’re probably not the first person who had a panic attack mid audition, they’ll understand”

“And if they don’t?”

“They will” she assured him.

Alfred was too tired to protest so he just limited himself to nod.

“After the other auditions finish we’ll go back and ask for another audition date, alright?”

Alice started ramble about her plan, it was kinda endearing.

“I don’t think i’m ready to go back just yet” Alfred said miserably

“I’ll go with you” Alice assured him “i’m not letting you face those judges alone, they’re scary”

Alfred laughed a bit “yeah, they are”

Alfred realized that no matter were they went Alice will always have his back and vice versa. It was relieving to know you have someone who will catch you if you fall and you’d have to catch them too sometimes.

They ended up talking to the judges together and agreed on scheduling another audition the next week, which gave Alfred a bit more time to go over the lyrics and prepare himself.

They both got their acceptance letters at the same time.

#this is a bad fic but eh #alice by heart #abh #alfred hallam #alice spencer #spallam?#halice?#alicefred?#the answer is yes #molly gordon #colton ryan #my fics

7 notes · View notes

name1name1 · 3 years

Note

3 and 7 for the year-end fic writer asks!

3) Which of your fics was most different from what you usually write?

ummm. probably Man in the Mirror. Never in my life did I think I’d enjoy writing a body swap fic :D :D :D. I usually just write descriptive feels, so this was a weird perspective.

7) from ‘The Dark’ in my first series.....I shudder at the terrible punctuation and grammar but the feeling that inspired this story is really powerful for some reason......

The signal coming from her call signature was a huge relief until the heard the man’s voice. The awful words and what those words meant.

He lost a chunk of time.

The next thing he remembers he’s strapping a repeating blaster to his shoulder and lowering the ramp.

He heard the kid let out a questioning sound. He sounded scared. If Din was capable of feeling any emotion right now, he would have stopped to comfort him.

“I don’t want you to see this.” The kid just looked at him clutching her right boot, his favorite treasure he kept in his toy box. They still couldn’t figure out why he loved it so much, and only the right one. He had no great love for the left. Go figure…

“If you have ever listened to me before, please do it now. I can’t lose you too.” The kid took a step toward him and he said desperately “if you won’t stay here for me, then do it for her.”

“I won’t leave her here with them. I’ll bring her back. I promise”.

The kid sat down.

It was too much. He had to go. He couldn’t look at the worried look on the kid’s face any longer.

He walked toward the compound in a trance. The hate, the rage, the uncontrollable fury he felt was everything he didn’t want the kid to know existed inside him. What he planned on doing was something the kid could never know about.

He prided himself on being honorable in battle, clean kills and mercy, but he was going to enjoy killing every one of them. He would show them pain and hurt and no quarter, just as they had shown her none. He would make sure they felt a fraction of the pain he was feeling.

He programmed the empty metal pram to follow his path, to hover alongside him.

He walks right up to the front door, not even a pretense of stealth. What he plans, he wants them to see coming. He wants them to know what’s going to happen. He wants to see their faces when they realize it.

“Mando, I see you cam-------” he never even finished the word. Din gunned him down where he stood and the guards to either side of him. They may not have been prepared for a fight, but he certainly was. Cara always loved a good blaster fight. This was for her.

2 notes · View notes

youremeimyou · 4 years

Text

Promise Me(pt.2)

Part 1 - Part 2

pairing: Park Jimin x reader (ft. Kim Taehyung) genre: Lots of angst, fluff and pure drama... word count: 5k warnings: alcohol consumption, sexual tension

Description: Y/N is Jimin’s longest and best friend. Certain feelings are caught and meanwhile, Jimin accidently sets Y/N up with his other best friend. But not before getting her to make him a promise.

A/N: First off, sorry cuz I know it’s been a long time since pt.1. But finally pt.2 is here, yayy! This one’s a bit more angsty but these two boys are both fluffballs so there are lots of cute stuff. (sighs)I just love Vmin so much, it was hard to do this justice. I hope I could and I hope you’ll like it. I’d love to know what you think. Enjoy!

It had almost been a month since the eventful Christmas. Taehyung was walking to the girl's dorm to spend some time with Y/N. This was his third time going without Jimin since he finally found the courage to go alone a few weeks ago, when he made up a stupid excuse for showing up at her door in the middle of the night.

Of course he was drunk that night. A few words may have slipped out of his mouth that made Y/N a blushing mess. But he never made a move on her in his drunken state and she appreciated that. Y/N took care of him, helped him sober up, let him sleep on her couch. So it became normal for him to drop by just to hang out since then.

After everything that went down on Christmas, Jimin only had one mission in mind: Avoid both of your best friends at all costs.

It was obviously hard considering one of them was a person he saw everyday since he was a kid and the other was his roommate. But he tried his best. It was starting to become tiring, feeling bothered and even heartbroken without understanding why and pretending to be okay so they wouldn't figure out. So he was more ghost than man over the course of last month.

It didn't go unnoticed by Y/N of course, she saw through his acts easily. Especially the times they would work on the musical. Normally doing anything with Jimin was fun for Y/N, even work and studying. And producing a musical normally would've been crazy fun. But Y/N could tell he was being distant. He wouldn't even come over much, saying there was still a lot of time to work on the project. All of that broke Y/N's heart to pieces.

There was a flower in Taehyung's hand that he picked up from the little winter garden at the coffee shop he'd been coming from. And he contemplated whether or not to give it to Y/N as he waited outside her room. But suddenly the door opened.

"Oh- Hey Tae! What're you doing here?"

"Uhh.. Hi. I just came by to ask you if you wanted to play some Mortal Kombat." he said, having trouble keeping eye contact.

"You mean you wanna get your ass kicked by the best player around? Sure." Y/N smirked. "I was just about to take out the trash so after that-"

Taehyung took it from her hands.

"I'll take it out and you get the game ready?" He made it sound like a question but started walking away to do as he said at the same time.

"Wait. What's that in your..?"

Taehyung looked back to see Y/N pointing at the flower in his hand, a funny expression on her face. He mentally face palmed.

"Oh this? Uhh it's just-" he sighed defeatedly and passed it to her. "It's for you." She was cringing and laughing but it still made his heart race as she took it to her nose.

"Thanks, it smells so nice."

After 15 rounds of K.O. -each with fatality- from Y/N, Taehyung gave up and put the controller down with a frown. Then he noticed the sketches on the coffee table.

"Oh, come on. You're good at music, acting and drawing? How's that fair for the rest of the world?" Taehyung protested.

"I'm merely mediocre at the first two and I suck at the last one. Admit it."

"No way! What were you drawing here?"

"Uh.. Jimin.."

Taehyung's eyes went wide. "Oh. Okay, sorry it just looks more like Bart Simpson than anything."

They both burst into laughter.

"I know. It's just- the professor wants the posters to also be original and made by us. So I wanted it to be a cool drawing of Jimin. You know, cause he's the lead." Her face dropped as she continued. "And also.. Jimin's been out of my reach lately. Which sucks.. So I thought maybe I could surprise him and make up for anything stupid I did to make him avoid me."

Taehyung could tell how important this was to her. He also was on Jimin's 'to avoid list'. An idea popped into his mind.

"Well, I can work on a poster for Jimin. Though, it'll be kinda hard to keep it from him. He always loves to snoop whenever I'm working on something."

Taehyung was a graphic design student that did illustrations for a comic book shop as part time gig. So he was more than qualified. But all of his equipment and designing programs were on his computer. And his wasn't a laptop but a desktop pc.

"You're just gonna have to distract him for me!" Taehyung said while looking like he presented the best idea ever.

"That is a brilliant idea. But our lovely Chim doesn't really talk to me novadays." Y/N's frown returned. She really had missed him.

"Come on, he can never resist you."

Now that was true. All three of them knew it. Even if it made Taehyung a bit upset, he just knew their relationship was something way bigger than anything else. And so, they made a deal and shook on it. Taehyung was gonna get free tickets to the musical in return for designing the poster.

Later that day, Taehyung texted Y/N saying he had an inspiration and that she needed to get Jimin out of the room to start working on it. So she quickly got ready and went over there.

She knocked on the door and heard both of the boys collectively say "Come in!" When she walked in she saw that Jimin really was trying to look at what Taehyung was doing on his computer. A curious little baby, she thought.

"Hey Chim. Whatcha doin'?"

The look on Jimin's face as he looked at her was confusing. Because it contained nervousness and edginess but also longing and relief. It gave hope to Y/N in thinking she wasn't the only one missing a best friend. Jimin walked over to her and when he noticed a strand of hair fall on her eyes, he gently put it back behind her ear.

"Nothing much. You?"

"Same. Wanna come over and work on some dance moves? I feel like I can't do any of 'em right. I really need you.."

She had no idea why she expressed that last part with so much emotion. But it made Jimin inhale sharply.

"Okay, sure."

"Great! Oh, you go ahead and I just gotta return Taehyung this uh.. pen I burrowed."

Y/N had one of her own pens in her hand and Jimin knew it. But he wasn't gonna dig on the subject. He just settled for rolling his eyes and saying "Fine.." as he walked out. Taehyung on the other hand was confused not remembering ever lending her a pen.

"Here Tae, thanks!" She shouted that so Jimin would hear and then whispered the next part.

"Whatever you do, just draw him dancing. Oh, and I want my pen back later."

Y/N knew her neighboors would complain about the noise she and Jimin were making while practising. But it didn't matter. With the way his body moved fluidly as he showed her his smooth and flawless moves and the way he held her hips to move her and teach her when she couldn't get it right.. Y/N didn't care one bit about the neighboors, no.

Every once in a while he would dance behind her to lead her through the choreography, all the while his breathy voice in her ear, panting and counting the steps. Needless to say she felt hot and bothered. So she suggested to take a break.

The chamomile sitting on the little table inside a glass of water caught Jimin's eye. He knew for a fact Y/N wasn't a flower person. Whenever he'd buy her some in the past, they'd always end up dead. He did have a guess in mind about who might've brought it here, though.

"I hope he won't get upset when it dies in like two days." He pointed to it with his head.

"I know he's your friend but sorry, that thing was a goner as soon as it was placed in my care."

"Well, sad. Cause coming from Taehyung, it's kinda a big gesture."

A frown formed on Y/N's brows, with the worry of making Taehyung upset. But flowers just didn't grow with her, nothing could be done.

"I'm afraid it wasn't the right gesture to pull on me."

"He doesn't know you like I do."

By this point, he was much closer to Y/N than he was at the beginning of the conversation. Y/N hadn't even realized him moving towards her. This rehersal had been nothing but tense so far.

"No one does, Chim."

They looked into each other's eyes as if it was a staring contest. Jimin would normally win those. But having her right in front of him, with drops of sweat falling from her face down to her collarbones and heat radiating off her skin, he felt a push like never before to get even closer so he had to step back as caution.

"Good job today, panda. These moves fit you so well."

"Thanks. And thanks for teaching me. Sorry for being such a burden-"

"Hey!" Jimin cut in and stepped towards her again to look her in the eyes once more. "You could never be a burden." He gave her a kiss on the forehead and left soon after.

The evening came pretty soon and Y/N was very exhausted after all the dancing around earlier. Jimin was a professional at it. His body and condition would rival any of the boys on soccer team. But Y/N wasn't fit like that. So she was getting ready to call it at a day. In fact, she was barely awake as she layed on the couch. She nearly jumped out of her skin when her phone went off loudly with notifications. Her brain immediately presumed to see 'Chimmy' on the screen but instead it was 'TaeTae'.

-Hey wanna come over real quick? Jimin went out.

-I mean to talk about the poster, I swear I’m not a perv.. u awake?? I really need opinions!

-Y/N, he'll be out prolly all night, this is our chance.

Out all night? Why would he be out all night? Y/N quickly called Jimin first before even opening the messages.

"Angel? What's up?"

"Hey Chim, where are you?"

"Uh.. on my way to the library. I have intel that there'll be a quiz on Theatre History tomorrow." He voiced the last part like those characters in spy movies.

"Oh. Why didn't you tell me? I took that class last year and still have my notes, I could come help you."

"I know but no need, lovely. You were already tired today. And Namjoon hyung's here to give me an intensive course."

He always managed to make a smiling fool out of Y/N with the endless, sweet nicknames. This time wasn't an exception.

"Anything up with you? If you need something I'm already outside I can-"

"No, I just wanted to check in on you, I'm about to go to sleep. Good luck and say hi to Joon."

"I will. Sweet dreams, angel."

She got up to walk to her bed but remembered Taehyung’s messages. Her body desperately craved sleep but Taehyung was right. It was a great opening with Jimin out of the room so she dragged her feet over there.

When Taehyung opened the door and saw a sleepy Y/N, his stomach started doing flips and somersaults. As a result, he was a stuttering mess.

“Hey, sorry if uh.. if I wake- woke you. Come on- come in! Come in.”

His hair was wet. There was a towel over his shoulders and he held a t-shirt over his chest. Fresh out of the shower. Y/N eyes traced the t-shirt down to where once she knew his tummy was from P.E. classes in high school. Tummy was no more, though. Those were qualified abs. Not overdone but just the right amount of them. Once she noticed she was staring, her eyes quickly changed direction. And when he noticed what she had been doing, he visibly blushed and audibly gulped.

“Oh.. When you didn’t write back, I thought you might’ve gone to sleep so I just hopped in the shower.” he explained as he quickly put on his shirt.

They went over to his computer to see the progress of the poster. Taehyung sat on the chair in front of the table and Y/N took a seat on Taehyung’s bed right next to it.

“Woah, Tae it looks incredible. I can’t believe you’re done so soon!”

“Done? No, I’m not done. There’re still a lot of details we should go through.”

As Taehyung mumbled the list of said details, Y/N couldn’t get her attention away from the poster. The elegancy and the delicacy of the move Jimin was pictured doing seemed so real, like an actual photo. But the colors and the environment looked so abstract.

“You’ve really captured the essence of Jimin and the way he loses himself to dance. Wow.”

“I’ve seen him perform enough times to familiarize with the demon that posesses him on stage.”

Thank you Mr. Demon, Y/N thought as she always did when seeing Jimin perform.

Taehyung then settled on his bed next to Y/N with a pen and paper on his hands to sketch. He was asking Y/N about the stuff he wanted to change or add and etc and showing her what it would roughly look like. And Y/N tried her best to give opinions but her eyes were slowly but surely closing, drifting into sweet slumber. And so she dozed off. Taehyung didn’t even notice until he also was pulled by sleep.

He thought about waking her up but couldn’t bring himself to do it. He watched her steadily breathing for a while before being taken by sleep himself.

A few hours later Jimin came back from the library and slowly got inside his room, guessing his roomate would be sleeping. What he never would’ve expected was seeing Y/N curled up next to him. Sleeping by his side.

That devastating feeling came back to sit on Jimin’s chest. She knew Jimin would be out for hours, maybe even until the morning. She called Jimin before coming here. Why? Why would she sneak in here without saying anything to him? Why would she keep this.. whatever it was a secret from him? They were clearly way closer than Jimin imagined.

His breath got stuck in his throat. He felt furious and heartbroken and he wanted to run away but stopped dead in his tracks. The thought of leaving them alone in here like this seemed inconceivable at that moment. So he walked over to his bed and plumped on it. Pulling the cover over his head he hoped it wasn’t real but when he got his head out again, the view was the same.

That’s when he saw Y/N twitching and grunting in discomfort. She was slowly gaining back consciousness. Her head was between her hands as she tried to wake up fully, realizing she fell asleep unintentionally. After miraculously managing to slip out of the bed without waking Taehyung up, she noticed Jimin sitting on his bed staring at her. She wobbly walked over to him. And even though Jimin was upset, he still felt worried, she didn’t look well.

“What’s wrong with you?”

“This crazy headache woke me up. I feel like vomiting.”

Jimin got up and went to check on her by instinct. “Let’s get you to a doctor.”

“No no. It’s just normal migraine stuff, Chim. It won’t pass unless I manage to go back to sleep. I should get back to my room.”

She started walking towards the door and decided to explain everything to Jimin in the morning when she’d be able to do it better. Jimin on the other hand couldn’t leave her alone when she was in this much pain. Putting everything aside for the time being, he pulled her back by her arm.

“Just come here, Y/N.”

He pulled her into the bed next to himself and gently turned her to face the other way. His hands travelled on her temples, eyes and forhead, slowly massaging the areas. He would place little kisses on the back of her head from time to time, too. She’d get these headaches every once in a while so Jimin had learned over time what he could do to make her feel better.

“It’ll be okay. Just close your eyes, try clearing your head and take deep breaths, baby.” he whispered in her ear.

Jimin’s arms were home. Warm, comfy and familiar. Even that headache couldn’t hold Y/N back from dozing off once more and sleeping soundly in his embrace. Jimin kept watching over her and only allowed himself to sleep when it seemed like all her pain was gone.

With the morning sun Y/N slowly came around from sleep. She felt the lack of a set of arms around her so she turned around to regain them as her eyes were still closed. They opened in disbelief when she couldn’t find the source. Her eyes looked around the room next but only to find that both Jimin and Taehyung were gone.

Y/N stayed in bed, trying to remember details of last night. She had accidently fallen asleep on Taehyung’s bed. She wondered what Jimin thought when he saw her like that. He did seem upset and she’d love to explain it to him but that terrible headache.. And how Jimin took care of her. Wasn’t new that he helped her but the atmosphere felt different at that moment. Despite being distant for a while before, he was being more intimate with her lately. A different kind of intimate. She really wanted to have a talk with him. She decided to text him but she saw the texts he had sent before on the screen.

-Y/N, I had to leave to get to class. If you're still not feeling okay, you have to go to the doctor. Let me know if you do. If not, bagels in the fridge and coffee's made.

-My keys are on the night stand you can leave them under the mat if you go out. But I'd love to have you there when I get back, angel.

There it was. An opportunity to have the talk. Jimin seemed to want to, as well. So decided on waiting there, it was a free day for her anyways.

Some time later sounds came from the door implicating someone coming in. Y/N thought it must've been Jimin. It was his taller counterpart.

"Oh, uh.. morning, Y/N."

"Hey, Tae. Did you have an early class?"

"No, it's my free day just like you. I just went out for a walk."

"In this cold?" Y/N teased, smiling.

"I was kinda hot headed so the cold helped."

His voice was even deeper than normal. And the features of his face were unusually hardened.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, sure."

He shot her a quick smile that didn't even reach his eyes. And anyone that knew Taehyung knew he was never insincere. That was against his nature.

"You can talk to me about anything." Y/N said as she handed him the cup of coffee she poured for him when he came in.

Taehyung stared at the mug. Then, at her strecthed out arm and lastly at her eyes, without saying a word or moving. He looked like he was thinking carefully about what he was gonna say next.

"I didn't wanna scare you away last night. I hope I wasn't but I apperantly have this habit of hugging things as I sleep so I'm sorry if-"

"Wha- No Tae and I wouldn't mind if you were either. You didn't scare me away. A headache woke me up."

"But when I woke up, I saw you over there." He pointed to Jimin's bed. Shit. Y/N worried about what Jimin thought of the situation last night but it didn't occur to her how Taehyung would take it. She sometimes forgot what Jimin told her about Taehyung's feelings. The last thing she'd want would be to break his heart.

"Jimin helped me. There's this massage thing he invented for when I get headaches. That's why we were-"

"I know it's not the first time I've seen you two like that but it's just-" Courage came to him all of a sudden so he took a step forward. "I thought I was being more.. open with you. And call me crazy if I'm wrong but it feels like we've become closer. Haven't we?"

They had been.Taehyung wasn't someone Y/N could easily disregard. And she knew she kept letting him in more and more over time. But she was just confused by Jimin all the time. Maybe she shouldn't have been, though. Jimin's been witnessing them getting closer but wasn't doing or saying anything about it, she thought. Guess he really was okay with it. Obviously he didn't want his relationship with Y/N to change into something.. else.

"You're not wrong, Tae. We have."

His eyes lit up and his mood got back up after hearing her say that. He didn't wanna rush things but he didn't want to do nothing either.

"Tonight, when you're hungry and when I'm also hungry we could- could we? Eat? Like outside- I know a great place."

Y/N couldn't help but smile seeing him stumble over his words.

"How are you this shy with the way you look is still beyond me." It was a sincere comment and she was pleasently surprised to be able to say it to his face. Taehyung still blushed like crazy, though. Then he took a deep breath and asked more confidently.

"Can I take you out to dinner tonight?"

Maybe she needed to move on from the limbo she was in, after all.

"Yeah.."

------

A ryhtmic knocking came from Y/N's door. She opened it and was met with a Jimin holding a lot of shopping bags.

"Chim! What's all that?"

"Well my quiz went amazingly, thanks for asking. So I thought we could celebrate. We're gonna make a cake!"

"I think you've gotten enough stuff to make ten cakes. And congrats."

"Ten cakes are even better. And thanks. But hey, I thought you’d be waiting for your man to get back at his room where he left you." Jimin teased with a smug smirk on his face. And Y/N’s mouth fell open a little in shock. But she quickly recovered and played along.

“Well my man took his time to come back. I can’t be kept in a cage, waiting forever for a guy.” They stared at each other until Jimin said “And scene..”

They were laughing as they carried the stuff inside and upon Jimin insisting, they started with the cake immediately. Twenty minutes in, they already created the biggest mess and didn't even get much done from fooling around. Jimin was in a good mood, dancing around, teasing Y/N and it all felt normal.

Y/N was making chocolate sauce and beckoned Jimin for a taste test. He came to her, sticking his head out from behind, over her shoulder and placing his hands on both sides of the stove, trapping her body with his own. Closer than close. He reached for the spoon and immediately closed his eyes after tasting, humming deeply.

"Mmhhmm.. my diligent panda, it tastes like paradise! Great job."

"Exaggerate away.."

"It does! Go ahead and taste for yourself."

Jimin took the spoon out of her hand and offered her some. He watched her as she tasted it. He was already staring at her lips and now they were covered in chocolate. There was some left on the corner of her mouth, too. Jimin felt that push again but this time he was already too close to not act on it.

He leaned forward and licked the chocolate away. Y/N just froze, not even being able to react.

"You had a little left.. on the corner right there."

When they finally broke apart Jimin got a bottle of wine out from one of the bags.

"I got this for when the cake is ready."

A while later there was some music they put in the background, only a few pieces were left of the two cakes that they made and the wine bottle had been emptied very quickly. It was still early into the evening but emotions, thoughts and feelings were already all over the place.

They were at their usual spot. On the floor in front of the couch with Y/N seated in the space between Jimin’s legs and Jimin’s arms wrapped up around her. Movements were sloppy due to alcohol. Jimin placed his head on her shoulder.

“I’m sleepy.” Y/N almost couldn’t understand what he said because of his mumbling.

“Are you now? I don’t ever remember you being an early bird.”

“What can I do? You’re so cozy.”

“Me? It’s probably the wine making you sle-”

“Nope, this much wouldn’t affect me. It’s all you, bear.”

Bear was a new one, she loved it.

“Oh!” Jimin hopped up and down where he was sitting. “I know your secret~” he sang. Y/N’s eyes went wide. Did Taehyung tell him about the date? And why was he taking it this excitedly?

“Umm.. I don’t know what you’re talki-”

“I saw it on Taehyung’s PC. I figured it was your idea. And the way you were sneaking around with him made much more sense.” He huffed as if in relief. Y/N was also relieved. He meant the poster, not the date. Good. She wanted to be the one to tell him.

“He did all the work. And you weren’t supposed to see until he felt like it was done completely!”

“My dude’s got talent. And I always snoop around, he knows that.”

They were giggling, Jimin put his head back down on her shoulder and closed his eyes. Y/N’s eyes went to the clock to see the time they agreed on meeting with Taehyung was getting close. She had to tell Jimin about it.

“I gotta jet soon, Chim.”

“No, you wouldn’t leave me.”

“But I have to get ready.”

Jimin got his head up suddenly in denial with a lovely pout.

“Where’re you going?”

“Out to dinner.” She paused to avert her eyes from him. “With Taehyung.”

Jimin had a rude awakening. “A date? An offical one?”

She just nodded. They didn’t speak for some time and just stared into space. But something happened in the silence. Jimin understood now. Up until that moment, what he knew was that Y/N was his person. Everyone around them knew it as well. But the void Jimin felt whenever this subject was brought up finally made sense to him. And he had promised himself that he’d tell her as soon as he knew. So that’s what he’d do.

“Don’t go.”

He spoke clearly and seriously.

“What?”

“Even though you complied back then, it was wrong of me to make you promise to not care about anyone the way you care about me.”

“Jimin, I could never-”

“We might be best and oldest friends but that wouldn’t be fair to anyone we open our hearts to. And especially you. You’ve given so much to me and I became comfortable on the recieving end. The reason I made you make that promise is because I knew I wanted to be the one you loved most but I was so dumb to not realize why until now.”

He moved his head closer and closer until their lips were so close that they even touched but only slightly.

“I know I’m so stupid. But I’m so in love with you, Y/N. I wanna kiss you so bad..” Y/N was sure her heart would jump right out of her chest at any second.

“But I won’t if you don’t want me to-”

Y/N quickly closed whatever little distance was left between their faces, not being able to take it any longer. Jimin was surprised but when he felt her trying to pull away, he held her and deepened the kiss. He slowly and gently pushed her down on the ground with his body on top of hers, lips still connected. Then linked one of his hands with hers while the other one was still placed on the back of her head, protecting it from bumping onto the ground earlier.

When they finally parted lips, both were panting. Y/N ran her hand through Jimin’s hair. Jimin was looking at her with fragile eyes.

“Does this mean you’re not going?”

“No, I only kissed you because there was some chocolate left on your lips and I didn’t want it to go to waste.”

Jimin actually took it seriously for a moment. He let out a relieved sigh when he realized the corners of her mouth curving upwards in humour.

“I can’t believe it took you this long, Jimin.” Y/N complained.

“What do you mean? Wait- Did you already-”

“You finally figured out your feelings but you never had a clue about mine?”

Jimin was shocked. “Are you serious right now?”

“I’ve always loved you, idiot. And I’ve been pining after you for the longest time.”

“I’m sorry.” he quickly pecked her lips over and over and spoke in between kisses saying “I love you.”, “I’m an idiot.” and “I love you” again.

“It’s okay, Chim.” she softly tapped his chest, signaling to sit back up. And they were seated once more.

“What’re we gonna do about Tae?” She felt so worried about that. Feeling like she played him. He was an amazing person and a true friend to both of them. The thought of breaking his heart terrified her. It made Jimin upset too, they both cared about him.

“I don’t know.. But we’ll figure it out.”

He laughed bitterly. “You know what? Tae knew. He always told me to stop being an idiot with you. I should’ve listened. But yeah.. I know he’ll understand.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. And whatever happens I’ll make it right with him. He’s my brother. Brothers might fight but they’re still brothers.”

She pinched the side of his arm. “No fighting over anyone! Not ever!”

“I meant that figuratively, angel.”

“Wait. Did you just quote High School Musical?” They both burst into laughter.

Then he smiled at her endearingly and pulled her into the tightest hug ever.

“Let’s just stay like this for a while.”

...

@world-moon @nopedopebts had requested to be tagged so here you go :)

A/N: I’m sorry for this long ass part. Thank you soo much if you bared with me and read it. I seriously hope you liked it because I struggled a lot with the ending, I hope it was good and satisfactory. I’d really like it if you guys let me know what you think and who would you have liked Y/N to end up with.

85 notes · View notes

dafukdidiwatch · 4 years

Text

Cool Cat Saves The Kids

I watched this movie and I still can’t believe this is the actual cover art for it.

God I wrote so many notes about this that even my flipping Bullet Points were basically an essay. I don’t even know how to begin just thinking about it hurts my head.

Overview: Cool Cat is Cool. Things happen to him, and he has to deal with bullying.

That’s it. That’s the thing I watched. Because there is no Real Flipping Plot to this movie.

This is a kid’s show. Or at the very minimum, a movie that is intended for children. It was based on a kid’s book series I’ve never heard of whose author Derek Savage decided to turn it into a movie. Though movie isn’t exactly what I would call it. When you watch it, it honestly feels like there are six 15 minute shorts that they just mashed together to a feature film, but even then that is a Generous Description.

Basically, the film tries to be a children’s program (and I guess has beef with Barney?). And you can see intent behind it being informative child-friendly psa. But the execution was so bad.

First, there is no plot. Sure the cover says that this is “an anti-bullying kid gun safety movie,” but it really give you nothing. What would happen is that Cool Cat has a problem, like someone bullying him or his friends. It would either A) be addressed immediately and solved so that’s great, or B) it is dropped immediately and never really addressed throughout the rest of the film.

And example of A is that the bully kid Butch just starts stealing candy just to be “evil,” Cool Cat sees that and chases him, and the kid gets arrested twenty seconds later. The End.

For B, Cool Cat gets a mean email. And...that’s about it. He responds to the email, but doesn’t actually address the issue and the subplot drops entirely until that VERY Last wrap up scene.

I think the reason for this lack of plot is that there was just WAY too many messages in here. Like, take a shot every time you see a psa announcement. It ranges from don’t bully, how to deal with bullies, being creative, crossing the street safely, to fricking GUN?! Like, the gun thing that I Guess was promoted in the movie tagline, only shows up the last 10 minutes. It caught me so off guard. You cannot call this a Gun Safety movie when guns aren’t even prevalent!!

And the lack of plot is counterproductive when you want to make a Kid’s Movie like this. If you want to tackle each issue as a show or a short, the messages would come across better. There would be more time to develop each message for kids to really understand. But because there is So Much to cover, a lot of the things are gonna fall to the wayside. There is no way a kid would pay attention to this, and if they do I doubt they are gonna learn everything that Derek Savage is trying to teach. There just isn’t any real focus.

The acting, god like they Tried to go with the kid friendly vibe, but was not working. At All. It was like they thought that to add emotion is to just enunciate your words as loudly as you can. Cool Cat was way too yelly. Every line he was just screaming, has no change whatsoever. Even Elmo can sound sad when need be (fucking love Elmo, but he does has a similar voice vibe to Cool Cat, just better).

Then the kids....I don’t want to be mean but I’ll be blunt. They are just reading lines, this is a middle school stage play basically. I’m not blaming the kids, Butch look like he had a hell of a time doing his villain laugh. It’s just that some of the scenes felt like it was taken in one shot and they didn’t bother to retry. Example: One kid got too excited and jumped his line, but they couldn’t just retake that??

And the lines, man. OOF. Some of it was bad. Like, really really bad placement.They should have had someone proof-read this.

Cool Cat: “Why Are You Painting That Wall?”

Random Kid: “Because Nobody Loves Us”

lol what?

Maria: “I bet those kids have never been shown love before.”

Cool Cat: “Thanks, and it’s all true”

LOL What??

There are just a LOT of lines like that that should have been rephrased.

THEN there are the freaking technical issues.

The audio kept fluctuating in sound quality, which honestly started to hurt with Cool Cat’s constant yelling. Some scenes it sounds like they recorded in a studio, sometimes it sounded like the actors had to yell in order for the camera to capture it. There were echos, there were layers, you can’t hear the lines over the song, you can’t hear the song over the cheers. There was one point whispers overlaid on top of the lines where I thought that Cool Cat just got haunted now. And the fun side of having headphones on means I heard the phone button noises in only One Ear. LOUDLY.

Blocking could have been better. There were a lot of backs to the camera, shots of characters walking away from camera not just off screen. This didn’t bother me as much, because I know this isn’t professionally made. But it didn’t feel like they really tried as much as just half-assed it. Example:

Cool Cat was drawing a picture with different colors, but the actor only used one marker and just said different colors. Or Cool Cat is working on a poster but really just rubs the already completed poster on a clean table as him “working.” Like, how hard is it to just film on a table with a bunch of craft supplies around you?

Then there are the questionable camera shots. LOTS of lingering shots to I assume fill up run time. These are shots of just showing Cool Cat walking round without having any real purpose. It shows Cool Catwalk all the way Up Stairs. Walked all the way Down Stairs. Walking into the House, walking into the Car. Even just shots of the parents doing things with no real motivation or impact to whatever Cool Cat is doing. It’s just there. If you want to say stuff like "oh well its to show the parents relationship" no it doesn’t. You can’t really add nuance to characters when the rest of the film is just one chaotic shot after the other. It just gets lost in translation.

The music number is probably what hurts me the most. You see Cool Cat WRITE the song. Then he SINGS the song. Then he DANCES to a DIFFERENT song. And that was it. He just needed the song for the parade, but there wasn’t any explanation or anything. I don’t even know WHY he needs the song for the parade! There was no explanation. It was just an excuse to have two back-to-back bad music video of poor choreography that again, NO POINT to whatever plot/message/psa thing he is trying to do.

I get that there should be some leeway since it looked like this was shot at Derek Savage’s house/neighborhood, so there really isn’t much they could do with their setting. But they could at least tried more with what they had. Cool Cat’s room doesn’t look exactly child friendly. There are only blank drab walls with two, maybe three posters of just Cool Cat himself. There is a reason the settings in other children shows have vibrant colors to engage them. Along with that, another half-assing moment was Butch graffiting Cool Cat’s poster, but it was one of those political posters you stuck on the lawn so it was like a foot tall outside. 1) You can’t really see that shit that small. 2) You couldn’t put the poster on a wall to film that scene at, to give a better view to the audience? It’s just a bunch of little things like that all over this film that really adds up.

Also, what’s with the posters only being about Cool Cat in his own room? A bit narcissistic if you ask me.

I'm also like 70%,sure they made this movie around the footage of them being in the Hollywood parade twice. They were at the parade, got the film, and wanted to use it so they made a movie for it. And I know it was twice because the announcers that were there to announce the arrival of Cool Cat had a costume change after switching scenes.

And after ALL of this, there is just so many random shit that really don’t do anything. Elements are randomly introduced and just as randomly dropped. We get a “next day” transition in the middle of the movie when days have already passed before them. Cool Cat breaks the 4th wall a couple of times with no real reason why. There is this joke where the camera was following Cool Cat into the bathroom for Cool Cat to ask for privacy, only to just ignore that bit every time he goes to the bathroom afterwards. Cool Cat just makes random ass noises when doing things, not important stuff. Just Doing Things. And he does this weird thing where I think he is trying to do Air Guitar, but it just looks like he is just shaking his leg a lot. I don’t really get it.

(Oh Shit, it is only after like the 3rd proof-read of this review I notice that in the gif you can clearly see the dude’s actual leg. I don’t know how mascot suits actually work, but I’m pretty sure that you’re not supposed to let kids actually see that there’s a person underneath in a kid’s show.)

There is also this....lowkey humblebrag going on? Which does not do the movie favors. After the first dumb song number, Derek shows off that he has a signed guitar by Van Halen. Like not just him playing it (which after the 15th zoom in on the guitar how could you NOT notice it thank you Derek), but pointing out to the audience that, Yes it was Indeed signed by Van Halen. Then there is the footage from the Hollywood Parade about the cars there. Sure, I get showing off like the Ghostbusters car, or Jurassic Park car, or the Batmobile. But Hurby the Love Bug? Night Rider?? Starsky and Hutch??? Magnum P.I.?????? The target audience is elementary kids, they aren’t going to know these old shows. So who is this for exactly?

Kudos to the cop for actually doing this, seriously. That cop probably had a hell of a lot of better things to do than arrest children for a bad after-school special.

And this is just SOME of the main problems of this film. There’s so much going on it would be impossible for me to go over everything without

The thing is, there is good material here. Maybe not great results, but there are a lot of ideas here that you can work with to make a decent kid’s movie. I actually loved the part where Cool Cat is dreaming and trying to figure out how he should handle bullies. I thought that was a good scene and a good way to show kids how to think through different options. There are good ideas here, but it was just way to much going on at once the movie basically shoots itself in the foot.

So here is My Version of what Cool Cat should have done.

Cool Cat is running for School President. That’s the main story line. Early in the movie he learns of a writing contest where the winner gets their own float at the hollywood parade (stretch but roll with it). But Cool Cat has no idea what to write, and talks to it with his friends who offers ideas. So he is juggling that along with running for Student President.

However, the Butch the Bully doesn’t like that. He doesn’t want Cool Cat to win. So he vandalizes his posters. Cool cat still runs and makes better posters. Butch tries to frame Cool Cat for vandalizing the playground, but instead his cronies get caught and convinced that it was a bad idea. So Butch decides to cyberbully Cool Cat and his friends to scare them off. He works with the other kid running for President to make a hate ad against Cool Cat, telling everyone how terrible and bad Cool Cat is. Cool Cat tries to go against this my making his music video song over how cool he is to swing the votes, making Butch more angry and vindictive to his bullying scheme.

Cool Cat doesn’t know how to get Butch to stop, but after getting advice from his friends, parents, teachers, and some hard thinking, he decides to confront Butch about his bullying issue, tell someone, and thus solves the problem. Later on after talking to Butch, maybe manages to convince him to start being friends.

Finally, Cool Cat uses this scenario to write his story about how to deal with bullying and make new friends. Which wins and we end with the Hollywood Parade.

Is this perfect? No. But it focuses the idea to one main plot (running for president) with the other issues naturally coming off of it, instead of making each issue it’s own separate thing. There is no random shifts in narrative, no GUN moments (or GUN in general we kick that shit out) and just focus on the main bullying theme.

Overall: This was a weird and bad children’s show. You have to put in a lot of effort into making a movie, but there was just too much going on for this to be a Good Children’s Movie, least of all a Good Movie in general. But it isn’t to say that it wasn’t morbidly enjoyable. It’s was like playing Spot The Difference to find all the Wrong Things in here. It was fun in a bad way.

So will I show this to children? No. But will I play a drinking game with my friends where we take a shot every time someone says the phrase “Cool Cat”? Yeah that sounds enjoyable.

Take a shot for every time you read “Cool Cat” in my review.

Side Note:

You had this as a GUN PSA, wtf are you doing holding a gun!? Given how the only 3 videos this channel has is only Cool Cat Trailers, I’m assuming this is official Cool Cat. Soooo.....what the hell?

#dafukblog #dafuking films #cool cat #cool cat saves the kids #week 8 movie #derek savage

17 notes · View notes