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kpop---scenarios · 3 years

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Torn Apart (2 Final)

Pairing: Surprise! x Reader

Warning: Smut, Sadness, Angst Maybe? Mean People

Word Count: 5.4k

It had been weeks.

Weeks of sobbing into your pillow, weeks of feeling like things were going to get better, until you found the most insignificant thing that belonged to Chanyeol and you broke down all over again. You missed him. You missed his touch, his warmth, his smile, the way he made you laugh when you were sad. You missed it all. You were broken, and it was all Chanyeol's fault.

Until you scrolled through Instagram, and saw pictures of him with Maya, that bitch. You had never hated anyone in your life until you had met her. You couldn't even begin to fathom what even slightly redeeming qualities Chanyeol saw in her, but apparently there was something to that wench.

You were curled on your couch in the fetal position as you cried at the ending of Strong Girl Bong Soon. You wished you had a love like that. The way An Minhyuk loved Bong Soon was the relationship you wanted, the one you would strive for. He loved her so much and you just wanted to be loved by someone like that.

You groan loudly as your doorbell rings, and then whoever pounds on your door. You didn't want visitors, you didn't care who it was, you wanted to hermit.

"What?" You yelled from the other side of the door.

"Y/N, let me in." You hear from the other side. You recognized the voice immediately.

"Baekhyun, I look like a troll. Kindly leave." You sigh.

"Y/N, if your trolly ass doesn't let me in, I will break down your door." He threatens, which makes you laugh for the first time in days. You both knew he would never be able to do that, and he would likely end up hurting himself.

"Baek, you would break your leg." You say, pulling the door open. On the other side was a sympathetic Baekhyun, who had tissues, ice cream, chocolate and a bag full of movies. You smile at his kindness. "You know I have Netflix right?"

"Shut the fuck up and move, this shit is cold." He barks, moving past you and into your kitchen. "Look, I have all the necessities. We will get you through this. Because I for one, cannot stand the sight of Mayeol and I want to gouge my eyes out, and I need someone to do it with."

"I don't understand how that has anything to do with me." You say, grabbing two spoons.

"Sehun is gone, he's so in love with those two, hes bordering being a psychopath, Jongdae and his wife are just tolerating, Suho, Kai and Kyungsoo are avoiding them like the plague and Minseok and Lay have been MIA, so you're my last hope, Y/N."

"I really don't want to talk about him, Baek." You admit, the hole in your heart somehow feels larger than before.

"That's fine, I'll stop, let's start a movie." He suggests, grabbing a random one out of his bag.

And for the next few hours, that's all you guys did. You watched movies, making comments, laughing and you genuinely had a good time with him. It had been so long since you actually felt happy and you were grateful to Baekhyun for bringing at least a little joy back into your life.

Until he left, and you were alone again. All the feelings came rushing back, except they hurt a little less this time. You didn't miss him quite as much.

The next day, at the same time, your doorbell rang again. You open the door, your eyes puffy and bloodshot and you see Baekhyun standing there again, a new flavor of ice cream in hand, a new kind of chocolate, and a new bag of movies. This time he said nothing to you, instead pushed his way past you and through the door, setting everything down on your living room table as he popped in the movie. You smiled to yourself before turning around to join him, it felt nice to be cared about, and the fact that he was going out of his way to do this for you, and make you feel better. You truly appreciated Baekhyun.

As he sat there and watched the movie, you watched him. The way his eyes lit up at a part of the movie he enjoyed, the face he made when he took a bite of his ice cream, the wrinkle he had in his nose when there was a cheesy scene. You never truly noticed how handsome Baekhyun was until now. His distinct jawline, his large hands, his toned body, you briefly.. very briefly began to wonder how large his..

"No Y/N, no. Do not go there with your existing bestfriend."

You quickly shake off the thought, moving your eyes to the TV screen, trying to focus.

"How are you feeling today?" Baekhyun asks, sliding his phone back into his pants pocket.

"A bit better, I guess." You answer. Before Baekhyun could say anything there was another knock at the door. "That's good." He smiles, standing up. "There are some people who wanna see you." He says, opening the door.

Minseok, Suho and Kyungsoo file through the door, looking at you with pity as they all sit, surrounding you.

"Hiiiii." Suho pouts, protruding his bottom lip. "How are we feeling today?"

"Um, hi." You laugh. "I'm fine."

"Oh good, so we can go." Kyungsoo pipes up, standing up and walking towards the door.

"Sit." Minseok sighs, pointing back at the seat. Kyungsoo rolls his eyes, shuffling back to his spot and flopping down.

"She's fine, Chanyeol is fine, so why are we here? Everyone is fine." He groans.

"Have you seen him? Is he fine?" You hesitantly ask. You weren't even sure if you wanted to know.

"Oh he's more than fine." Kyungsoo groans. "He and Maya are all over each other all the time. It's honestly nauseating. Like I want to be able to eat my sandwich without hearing your girlfriend moan when you kiss her." He gags.

You bite your bottom lip as you slowly nod your head, tears welling in your eyes. These were most definitely details you did not need to hear about your ex and the girl he cheated on you with. All the men whip their heads to look at you, who now had your head hanging low as your shoulders shaked. They all look back at Kyungsoo, with only one speaking up.

"That's it." Baekhyun growls. "Kyungsoo, get out." He spits, pointing to the door.

"What did I do?" Kyungsoo asks, innocently. Baekhyun rolls his eyes, looking at you, softly whimpering into the sleeves of your sweater.

"Out. Now." Baekhyun says, giving him the middle finger before flinching as Kyungsoo stands up, whispering "Don't hurt me."

"Don't listen to him." Minseok sighs. "Kyungsoo has zero social cues, he also could not read a room if his life depended on it."

As Kyungsoo opened the door to leave, in rushed Lay, who looked at the man leaving and just nodded his head, realizing he had probably said something rude and was asked to leave. It wasn't the first time and would not be the last either.

"Y/N." Lay breathes. "How do you feel about tall, muscular men who sing?" He asks.

"I do enjoy them. Why?" You ask.

"I have a friend from the hospital.. I think you two would get along really well. He's in his third year of surgery residency and is looking to date. I may have shown him your picture and he instantly said yes." He tells you.

You look around the room, Suho and Minseok are nodding enthusiastically, while Baekhyun sits with his arms crossed against his chest, and a pouty look on his face.

"What do you think?" You ask Baekhyun. He looks up at you, his face softening immediately.

"I uhh, it's up to you. Yanno, if you're into muscular, tall men.." he mumbles.

"You know what? Sure, yes, I will. Chanyeol and Maya are out there living their best lives while I'm sitting here sulking, mourning a love that clearly didn't mean as much to him. So yes I will go out with him." You announce, perking up already. "When?"

"Tonight." Lay says. "More specifically, an hour."

"I need to get ready." You smile, jumping from your seat to rush to your room. You slowly peak your head around the corner, softly smiling at your friends. "Thank you, you guys. You've all really helped me these last weeks. I greatly appreciate you all." You finish, heading back into your room to quickly throw yourself together.

By the time you were done, you had 15 minutes to spare, and you were damn proud of what you accomplished in the last 45 minutes. You showered and shaved to become a hairless human from the eyelashes down, you managed to get the knots out of your hair and it looked in decent shape, as well as hide the semi-permanent redness of your eyes with a lot of makeup. You almost didn't recognize yourself in the mirror when you looked. You didn't see the heartbroken girl anymore, you saw someone confident, hot and worthy of a great love.

Stepping out into the living room you blush at all the 'oohs and ahhs' from your friends.

Except for Baekhyun.

When you looked at him, his eyes shined and for some reason it made your heartbeat a little faster. You watched his eyes trail up and down your body, seemingly taking in every curve, every inch of you. When he notices you staring, he clears his throat and looks away. "You look prettyish." He mumbles as he walks away, there's a knock at the door. Baekhyun is the one to answer and looks up at the tall man.

"You must be.." he begins, moving out of the way, letting the man walk in.

"Hi." He smiles at you. "I'm Matthew." He says, holding out his hand.

"Hi Matthew." You grin. "Y/N." You finish, introducing yourself.

"It's really nice to meet you. You look phenomenal." He says, holding your hand up to spin you around. You can't help but let out a loud laugh as a blush spreads across your cheeks.

"Thank you." You whisper. "Shall we?"

He waves to Lay and everyone else before taking your arm in his and leading you out the door. You left three excited men behind you and one who felt annoyed but didn't quite know why.

You hadn't laughed so hard until tears rolled down your cheeks and you held your stomach for a very long time. You honestly were surprised at how much you and Matthew had in common. You both enjoyed the same type of music, food, and pastimes. You had yet to meet someone who loved the same authors as you, who enjoyed doing your favorite activities and who genuinely seemed like a great person but here he was, sitting right in front of you at this nice restaurant.

"I have to admit something." Matthew begins. Your stomach drops as you feel like he's going to tell you he's married or has a girlfriend, something that's going to make you lose trust in men, again.

"Go on." You say, forcing a smile before taking a sip of your drink.

"I really like you." He grins. "It's insane, I have never met someone I had so much in common with until tonight."

"I was just thinking the same thing." You laugh, feeling relieved at his confession. You liked Matthew, he seemed as though he would be good for you and treat you right, although you thought that Chanyeol would do the same and look how that turned out.

Beep

Matthew's pager beeps incessantly. He takes it from the waistband of his pants, checking the page and stands up abruptly. "I'm so sorry." He sighs. "I have to go, there was an accident and I'm needed in the OR." He explains.

"Go." You say, waving your hands to emphasize.

"I had a wonderful time Y/N, and I hope I get to see you again." He grins. He places down a few hundred bills on the table before kissing your hand, and with a wink he was off and your heart was pumping fast as red spreads across your cheeks.

Oh boy.

Your blush is still present as you walk through the door of your apartment. You see Baekhyun sitting on your couch with his arms crossed as he watches a show, not even acknowledging your presence.

"Why are you still here?" You ask, tossing your purse on the chair.

"I wanna hear all about Matthew." He mimics, rolling his eyes. "How was your date?"

"It was really nice. We have a lot in common, which is strange. He seems really nice and we get along amazingly. He was paged into surgery so it ended early." You tell him. "So cool."

"Oh wow, surgery huh?" Baekhyun says, nodding his head. "Did I tell you I'm auditioning for a band?" He smiles.

"Are you really?" You ask, a little shocked.

"Maybe." He says, clearing his throat, turning back to the show.

You sit beside him, you dress riding up just a little to expose your thigh. You're focused on the show, barely realizing that Baekhyun has now rested his hand on your bare thigh, his thumb lightly rubbing the same spot.

Why did you feel butterflies? Why was your pussy throbbing? It's probably just friendly, there's no way Baekhyun has feelings for you.

Right?

As the show played on, your eyes became increasingly droopy, feeling the exhaustion and excitement of today finally catching up with you. Your eyes slowly close as you lean your head back onto the couch.

You weren't sure when it happened, but you woke up, what you're assuming is a few hours later with your head on Baekhyun's lap while he gently rubbed your head, running his fingers through your hair. Your body shivered at the gentle sensation and you closed your eyes once again, feeling safe and happy as you dozed off.

When you woke up the next morning, you were laying on the couch, alone with a blanket draped over you. Your eyes searched your apartment and there was no sign of Baekhyun. You had no idea when he had left but a part of you felt a little hurt that he left without saying goodbye to you. You rolled yourself off the couch and shuffled into your room, changing your clothes to something more comfortable.

When you were done you made your way to the kitchen to find food when your front door opened. In walked Baekhyun with a large bag from your favorite food place.

"You didn't." You grin. "It's so far away."

"I did, and it was worth it to see the look on your face." He laughs, setting the bag down on the table.

The two of you sit down, and have breakfast together and chat. You hadn't realized that Baekhyun actually had a lot in common with you as well. You didn't know why the two of you had never talked about these things but you felt like it was a crazy coincidence that two men match with you so well. Although you knew Baekhyun's feelings were strictly platonic, there was no way that he felt anything romantically for you.

"I gotta go to work, but we'll hang out later, if you're up for it?" He asks, throwing his garbage away.

"Of course." You smile. You look in his eyes, his beautiful brown eyes and you just want to melt. You liked Baekhyun, alot. Maybe it was just from how good he's been treating you lately, or maybe the feelings were real, you would never know because you were going to focus on changing your feelings for Baekhyun to feelings for Matthew, someone you knew you actually had a chance with.

Later that day you were doing some work on your computer for the company you work for, luckily you're able to do your work from home, giving you plenty of time to be free during the day for activities. You're brought out of your zone by a text from Matthew, asking you if you wanted to grab a late lunch around 2pm, and immediately your mood changed, and you happily replied that you would love to.

At 1:50pm, you sat at the restaurant, a drink in front of you while you waited for Matthew. Seeing him walk through the door, your heart did a mini dance as he smiled at you, heading towards the table you had already gotten.

"Hey there beautiful." He grins, sitting across from you.

"Hi." You giggle. "How has your day been?"

"Busy and stressful, but that's all been forgotten now that I have you in front of me." He says. You smile widely, burying your head in your hands. He was so sweet, and you didn't know how to react to it. After the two of you order, you're in the middle of a conversation about a movie you had each recently watched, when out of the corner of your eye, you notice someone familiar. You look over and at a table that was too close for your liking sat Baekhyun, Chanyeol and Maya. Your attitude, demeanour and mood completely changed when you noticed them. You could feel the tears welling in your eyes as you looked away. You look at Matthew who instantly looks concerned.

"What's wrong? Did I say something?" He asks, leaning in closely to whisper to you.

"T-that's my ex.. and the girl he chose over me, and his best friend who I'm still friends with." You whisper, nodding your head towards them.

Matthew discreetly looks over and notices the blonde man looking in your direction, pain in his eyes from the moment he saw you.

"Look at me." Matthew whispers. You look up at him, trying to control the tears. "That boy is an idiot for giving you up. You are one in a million. You're smart, funny, beautiful, caring and an all around amazing person to be around. Don't give them anymore of your tears, princess. They don't deserve them, and you don't deserve to cry over them." He smiles.

You sit up, taking a deep breath, smiling at the man across from you, staring at his beautiful smile. You glance over to the table and see Chanyeol staring at you, sadness in his eyes while Maya glares at you and Baekhyun, he stares at you with what seems like a look of anger. He glares in your direction, his face like stone and you had no idea what you did to make him so mad at you.

"Would you like to go somewhere else?" Matthew asks.

You nod your head, knowing you didn't want to be in the same restaurant as Mayeol, it was bad enough to have to be in the same city as them. Matthew grabs the check, escorting you out, his hand hovering over your backside as you walk out, the feeling of eyes watching you burning into your back as you exit the restaurant. You and Matthew stand outside your door, and he smiles at you. "I'm sorry about the date." He sighs.

"It wasn't your fault. If anything I should be sorry." You say.

"You did nothing wrong." He tells you. "I have to get back to the hospital now, but I'll call you." He says, leaning down he presses his lips to yours quickly before pulling away and saying goodbye.

You walk into your apartment, feeling a little confused. That didn't go how you imagined it at all. As you're trying to get out of your sundress, there's a knock at the door before someone walks in. You turn around and see Baekhyun standing there, watching you.

"You looked pretty comfortable and intimate with what's his name." He blurts out, walking towards you. He stands closely behind you, you can feel his breath on your neck as he pulls down the zipper of your dress.

"Yeah well you looked pretty comfortable with fucking Maya and Chanyeol." You retort, trying to storm away from him. Your dress slips off your body, landing on the floor. Baekhyun follows you, reaching out to grab your wrist. He spins you around to face him. He pulls your body closer to his.

"What do you want?" He asks. You don't answer, your lips parted as you try to form a sentence. Baekhyun's eyes drop down to your lips. He licks his lips and sighs. You can feel his breath, so close to you, almost kissing you. "What do you want from me, Y/N?" He asks.

Your heart is practically beating out of your chest. You look into his eyes, one word on the tip of your tongue.

You. Just say it. You want him. Tell him.

But you say nothing.

Baekhyun sighs. "That's what I thought." He says, moving away from you and picking up your dress from the floor. He hands it to you, leaning in to press his lips against your temple. "Call me when you know what you want." He says, walking away from you and out the door.

What did that mean? Did he want you like you wanted him? Why couldn't you have just told him right then and there?

You were scared. You were scared of rejection, you were scared he didn't mean it, maybe his feelings towards you weren't real. But then again, you would never know unless you talked to him.

Later that night you laid in your bed, thinking about Baekhyun. You couldn't sleep, so you grabbed your purse and your keys, drive aimlessly around town. A little while later, you glance at the clock that reads 2am, you park your car and you pull out your phone and call him. You felt like you were going to vomit as the phone rang.

"Hello?" A groggy voice answered.

"You." You whisper through the speaker. "I want you."

"Y/N." He breathes.

"Open the door, Baekhyun." You whisper.

You can hear him get out of bed and stomp towards the front door. He pulls it open and there you are, your phone pressed against your ear, wearing a nightshirt and shorts.

"I want you." You say again, pulling the phone away from your ear.

Baekhyun pulls you inside, slamming the door behind you before pinning you against the front door.

"Fuck it." He groans, crashing his lips against yours, pulling your body in closer to his. His hands roaming your body as he slides his tongue into your mouth. His hands move under your shirt and up your torso, cupping a bare breast. He groans into the kiss as he pinches your hard nipple, rolling it between his fingers. He presses his crotch into your leg, allowing you to feel his hard cock pushing against his boxers.

You reach your hand down, sliding it into his waistband, grabbing his cock and slowly pumping, making his knees buckle.

"Fuck." He murmurs, breaking the kiss. He leans his head into your neck, placing small kisses as you stroke his cock.

Suddenly he stands up straight, pulling your hand from inside his boxers. He grabs your hand and leads you to his bedroom.

"Take off your clothes." He growls.

You maintain eye contact as you slip your shirt off your body, dropping it to the floor and the shimmy off your shorts, letting them pool around your ankles. You stand there naked in front of Baekhyun who takes in every curve and crevasse of your body.

"Get on the bed." He whispers. You move to the bed, slowly climbing on and laying on your back.

"So fucking beautiful." He moans, crawling on top of you. "I just wanna be inside you." He whispers. You nod your head, giving him all the consent he needs.

Baekhyun spits on his hand, pumping his cock. He lifts your legs over his shoulder before lining him up with your entrance. He pushes himself into you, stretching your pussy out, making you cry out loudly.

It had been so long for you, you forgot what it felt like to be fucked. Your hands grip the bed sheets as Baekhyun slides his cock in and out of you slowly.

"How do you want it, baby?" He asks, moving slowly still.

"Faster." You moan. "Fuck me Baekhyun."

His eyes become dark after hearing your words. His hands wrap around your ankles as he starts thrusting harder into you, the sound of skin slapping fills the room.

"Oh god." You cry out, your hands cupping your breasts, pinching your nipples as he pumps his cock into you.

Baekhyun releases one of your legs, placing his thumb between your lips to rub your clit. He rubs in circles, making you clench around him.

"Just like that." You cry out as you buck your hips. You knew you were going to cum soon, you hadn't had an orgasm since Chanyeol left.

"Fuck." Baekhyun groans.

"I'm gonna cum." You scream as he fucks you harder, and continues to rub you.

Your orgasm hits you, making you scream out in pleasure, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you tighten around Baekhyun once again.

He groans loudly, suddenly cumming, shooting his load inside of you, breathing heavily as he works through his orgasm.

"Holy fuck." He sighs, pulling out of you. He lays next to you, and you snuggle into him, not caring about the mess, just being completely and utterly happy in the moment.

"So.." Baekhyun starts off the next morning, as you lay in his bed, tangled in his sheets. You have one leg and one arm sprawled across him as you snuggle in closer to him. "What about Matthew?" He asks.

"I called him yesterday after you left, and I told him I didn't think things were going to work out, but I would like to remain friends." You explain.

"And he was fine with that?" He asks.

"He asked if there was someone else." You sigh. "I told him I wasn't sure, but I hoped and he wished me luck."

"I didn't like you seeing him." Baekhyun admits. "It hurt but I felt like I couldn't do anything." He says.

"Why?" You ask.

"Because.. Chanyeol is my best friend and you were his." He tells you.

"Chanyeol made his decision, and he chose Maya. I'm free to date whoever I want, and I want you." You whisper.

"Oh baby girl." Baekhyun growls. "You have no idea what you do to me." He whispers, rolling over on top of you, pressing his lips to yours. You wrap your arms around him, pulling him in closer to you, never having felt so wanted or loved.

It has been a few months of you and Baekhyun dating, and you've kept it under wraps for the most part, wanting to stay in your little bubble of happiness. But now your friends were getting suspicious and you felt like it was time to tell them. And what other perfect time to tell them then at a dinner party that everyone is attending.

That night you and Baekhyun had brought a spinach and artichoke dip that you made together and it was the best thing ever. You told Jongdae and his wife the news first, and they were both extremely happy for the both of you.

Next, Minseok, Suho, Kyungsoo, Kai and Lay were told and they were all happy for you two, except Lay who was disappointed that things didn't work with Matthew, but he was happy that you were happy.

You all sat around the dinner table when Chanyeol, Sehun and Maya walked in. Things instantly got tense and quiet the minute they entered the room. They hadn't noticed you yet and you could feel the knots forming in your stomach.

"Hey guys." Chanyeol smiled, looking around the room and then his eyes landed on you and his smile dropped.

"Hi friends." Maya chirps up, not realizing you were there until Sehun pointed it out, quite loudly and rudely.

"Why is she here?" He asks, nodding his head towards you.

"Because she's our friend." Jongdae pipes up, glare at Sehun.

"It's just weird." Maya comments, sitting down at the table. You ball your hands into fists under the table. Baekhyun reaches under the table, grabbing your hand to calm you down, showing you he's there and has your back.

"It's not weird, actually." Baekhyun pipes up. "What's weird is coming to a gathering when you know no one here likes you. That's weird." He says, looking at Maya.

"Baek." Chanyeol sighs. "She's my girlfriend." He says, as if that's a good enough reason.

"Okay." Baekhyun says. "And she's mine." He says, nodding towards you. "So tell your girl to show some respect."

"You're what?" Chanyeol asks, staring at you and Baekhyun, not even acknowledging the fact that Maya is sitting there with her mouth open and offended. "You're dating my ex-girlfriend?"

"I am." Baekhyun says, not caring about Chanyeol's reaction anymore.

"You.. you can't do that." He says.

"And why not?" Baekhyun wonders. "You left her. You chose that over this amazing woman. You have no right to be angry here. You broke her, tore her apart and I'm putting the pieces back together."

"I don't want her here." Maya pouts.

"And no one wants you here." You chime in. You were tired of her and she had only been here for a few minutes.

"Chanyeol." She whines, nudging him but he's still not paying attention to her, only looking at you and Baekhyun.

"So.. what did you guys bring?" Lay asks, nodding towards their dish.

"Buffalo chicken dip." Maya says, with a smile.

You burst out laughing, rolling your eyes. "You mean you're still making the recipe that Chanyeol and I made together?" You ask with a smile on your face.

Maya's smile instantly drops, looking at you with disgust. "Chanyeol." She yells.

"What?" He snaps, turning to look at her.

"Do something." She whines.

"You don't have to do anything, man. We're gonna go. Thanks for having us, Jongdae. It's been interesting." Baekhyun says. He looks at you and holds out his hand. "Ready?" He asks you. You smile at him, taking his hand and walking out, hand in hand with the man who made you the happiest you've been.

A few days later you're in your apartment, singing and dancing as you clean up the place. You no longer missed Chanyeol, his name no longer brought pain to your heart, seeing things that reminded you of him no longer made you cry. You had Baekhyun now, and he treated you like a queen.

You're walking past your front door when you hear a faint knock. You open it slightly and see an exhausted looking Chanyeol standing on the other side.

"Can we talk?" He asks.

You didn't want to hear what he had to say, but you decided to be nice and let him in.

"What?" You ask, sitting on your couch as he stands in front of you.

"I fucked up." He blurts out. "I should have never chosen Maya over you. I didn't realize what I was doing at the time, Y/N, please forgive me. I miss you. I miss us. We were great together." He breathes.

You're shocked. You had spent weeks crying over him, wishing for him to come to you and say these words to you but now it was too late.

"You're a little too late now." You say to him.

"I know you're with Baekhyun, but I had you first." He says.

You scoff at him. "How dare you? How could you come here months after you left me for Maya and beg for me back when I'm finally happy again? It took a long time for me to be okay. Baekhyun has been there for me, he was the one who helped put me back together. You chose Maya. You made your bed." You yell. "Get out Chanyeol."

"Y/N please." He begs.

"No, you need to leave. I don't want you. I don't love you anymore." You tell him.

Chanyeol walks out the door, looking back at you with tears in his eyes. You felt no remorse for him. You had felt the way he was feeling, it was his own fault and you refused to be torn apart by him again. Chanyeol was now your past, and Baekhyun was your future and you couldn't be happier about it.

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jaxsteamblog · 3 years

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Flirt

Click here to read the entire fic on AO3

Katara straightened her crown in the mirror, turning her head side to side to make sure it was straight. Her wavy hair had resisted the pin, and the thickness certainly fought the top knot, but she had eventually managed to get the thing on.

“Are you sure it doesn’t look silly?” She asked.

Zuko came into view behind her, sliding his hands around her sides to hold her lightly.

“As silly as mine does in modern clothes.” He replied and kissed her soundly on the cheek.

“I don’t think it’s made for hair like mine.” She muttered.

“Sounds like a design flaw, not a you flaw.”

“Mmm.”

“Mmm?”

“MMM.”

Zuko kissed her cheek again and backed away. The loops usually at the side of her face had been pulled back to start a simple sort of braid. The beads were still present, and she was wearing her necklace, but the crown stood out as an accessory.

“I know it’s a flame, but doesn’t it look a bit like a crescent moon?” He asked.

“That’s a stretch.” Katara said.

Skittering claws came into the room and Katara turned as Druk bounded toward her. He was less than a year old but already the size of an adult owl cat. His wings were still clumsy and he could only fly short distances, yet his legs were powerful enough to send him racing down hallways.

He terrified the palace staff and greatly annoyed the also still alarmingly growing Mister Whiskers.

“Don’t.” Zuko warned both Katara and Druk. Both of them ignored him and Druk launched himself at Katara, making her stagger as she caught him.

“He can’t jump up on people like that.” Zuko grumbled. “It’s poor manners.”

“Aww, my sweet baby just wants attention.” Katara cooed, rubbed her nose against Druk’s snout. He smelled like soot and heat, and Katara cuddled his chest close to her face. He nipped at her crown and Zuko sighed in annoyance.

“A dragon shouldn’t be carried like a toddler. It’s undignified.” He said finally and Katara turned to him.

“How dare you say such a thing about our boy.” She said.

“This is why he’s a brat when you’re gone.”

“Of course, he misses his momma.”

“You both are deranged.”

Katara kissed Druk’s scaly head and set him down. The dragon hopped indignantly, blowing out bursts of flame.

“You know he’s going to be a terror when we have actual children.” Zuko said, holding out his arm. Katara linked to him and held on with her other hand.

“Why do we even need anymore? Let’s just crown Druk and the Fire Nation can have an actual dragon as it’s Fire Lord instead of making up all these fancy honorifics for you.” Katara said.

“If history is any indication, they might not tell the difference.” He agreed.

Walking out of their bedroom, Druk followed them closely. Having returned with a dragon, the court and the city of Caldera had changed its attitude toward Zuko. The rest of the world still thought dragons were extinct, so Druk was a miracle bestowed to their Fire Lord as a sign from the spirits. As they had all sworn an oath never to speak of Ran and Shaw, no one disabused people of that notion.

Now, even the prime minister had quelled his adversarial politics.

Ozai and Azula both had been recorded as having thrown massive fits about it.

Katara and Zuko headed toward the ballroom, watching with wry amusement as the staff jumped out of Druk’s way. When they reached the massive double doors, Katara called Druk and held him again, knowing that he didn’t do very well in large groups of people.

“Fire Lord, Fire Lady.” A member of the house staff jumped when he opened the door, seeing the royal couple on the other side.

“We wanted to see how everything was progressing.” Zuko said.

The man glanced at Druk, curled in Katara’s arms and she smiled back at him.

Being favored by a dragon was also helping her image at the palace as well.

“Of course.” The man said, stepping to the side.

Katara followed Zuko inside and looked around. While Zuko himself wasn’t overly interested in celebrating his birthday, there were expectations for the Fire Lord. These expectations somehow included the Water Tribe Ambassador rearranging all of the flowers.

A sour faced man approached them, bowing obviously to Zuko and leaving Katara in her place at his side.

“Is everything to your liking, Fire Lord?” He asked.

Zuko turned to Katara and idly scratched Druk’s crest.

“Lady wife?” He asked.

“Yes?”

“Everything pales in comparison to the luminary beauty of yourself. I am unable to adequately judge these offerings with you standing so close to me.”

Katara smiled and had to keep herself from laughing.

“How can I do any better? The light of your loveliness blinds me to anything else.” She remarked.

“My most prudent and beloved queen, I beg that you give me some words to describe this room that does not degrade your glittering visage.”

“Oh honorable husband, for that you would have to leave my sight and I could not bear to stand in such darkness.”

“I think,” The sour faced man said bitterly. “I will have to trust the Fire Lady’s most esteemed brother then?”

“Sokka is a marvel, I think that might be best.” Katara said, wrinkling her nose and giving the man a patronizing look.

The man bowed to them both and walked back to the activity. Zuko did laugh softly then and Katara turned back to him.

“Light of my loveliness?” He asked.

“Glittering visage?” She countered.

“Hey, the words may have been stuffy, but they were still true.” He replied.

“So what words would you really use?” Katara asked.

“Hmm,” Zuko thought and took some of her hair in his hands. He stared at it as he rolled the strands under his fingers.

“I would start by saying how devious fate must be to make my love part ocean spirit as I most certainly am in danger of drowning when you’re around.” He started and twirled her hair around his fingers. “You take my breath away, but also, there are times when I don’t feel like coming up for air.”

“Zuko!” Katara whispered sharply, her face heating up in a flash.

Zuko only smiled and released her hair.

“I would say that thank the spirits you’re brilliant because I lose all sense when I look at your face, because your beauty is enough to make a fool of any man.” He continued. “And I’d quite like an opportunity to play the fool soon.”

“Spirits, you are brazen.” Katara said with a laugh. Her grip on Druk tightened and he squeaked in annoyance.

“Sorry Druk, I’m displacing you as your mother’s favorite.” Zuko said and scratched Druk’s neck.

“You are always my favorite.” Katara said. “No matter what season it is in the Poles, I only feel like the sun has returned when I’m with you.”

“I don’t see how I can compare when you are always the one lighting up the room.”

“I wish I could paint with ink the same shade as your hair so I could write every character with the same kind of elegance.”

“I wish I could train birds to sing in the same notes as your laughter so I could hear your joy every morning.”

“My laughter? I wish I could keep your voice with me because it soothes me better than the sound of a far off thunderstorm.”

“I am going to vomit all over the floor if you two don’t stop.” Sokka interjected.

Katara lowered her face, blushing, but Zuko chuckled.

“Aw come on! They were being really cute!” Thuy added as she approached from behind them.

The twins that hung around Thuy, who Zuko swore were harmless, watched them with different levels of interest. Suzu looked gleeful while Zula looked bored. Or mildly irritated. She was harder to read.

“I see my wife every other season. You’re lucky we’re out of our rooms at all.” Zuko said.

“Zuko!” Katara blurted while the three teenage girls burst out laughing. Sokka only sighed and tapped the heel of his hand against his forehead.

“Can we play with Druk, Auntie?” Thuy asked, changing the subject.

“Please.” Katara said, holding Druk out even as he clung to her in protest. “He needs to potty.”

“Thank you Auntie!” Thuy said and forcefully took the dragon, running off with him before he could break free of her grip. Suzu jogged after her and Zula walked stoically after.

“Okay you two, try to focus for long enough to look at these terrible centerpieces.” Sokka said. “I think I’ve managed to salvage them.”

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#zutara #fanfiction #jax writes #zutara month #modern au #the fic that prompts built

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tony-is-my-daddy · 3 years

Text

My Forbidden Fruit

I hit a writer's block a few days ago with the multi chapter Starker fic I'm working on and I thought I'd try writing something else to keep myself occupied. I hope you like this.

Basically, Peter is a farm owner's son and Tony works for his dad and they're not supposed to date but oh well... Also, it's not staded in the fic but Peter is twenty years old here.

TW: one love scene, a bit of possessive behaviour but it's mostly just dirty talk. I think that's it but if you think there's anything else, let me know, please!

------

He placed down the last crate of corn in the barn, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. His hands hurt at this point from how many heavy crates he'd been carrying around all day, but he couldn't complain, his job paid quite well. Working for a well going farm owner meant good payment but also a huge property where Tony had a load of work to get done every day. He'd been up since six in the morning and the only break he had was his lunch time ever since.

The physically tiring work wouldn't have been bad, but this job wasn't just physically tiring. There was this one boy who kept annoying him and distracting him from his work however he could. That stupid game between them felt more tiring than his whole afternoon of carrying crates around the place. And the worst part was - the boy was extremely pretty and he knew how to use that to his advatage.

He walked around in the tiniest clothes ever that Tony secretly loved, short shorts and tight fitting tops that just drove him absolutely insane. It's hard to focus on your job when he's outside, sunbathing on the grass in nothing but a pair of boxers, or doing his morning yoga on his balcony, or when he's coming back from a dip in the lake, milky skin and messy chestnut curls dripping water that the towel wrapped around his waist barely soaks up.

He was only supposed to stay until the end of the summer, but it was now the middle of September and he was still there. Tony didn't know why he was still at the farm but he wasn't about to ask because getting into a conversation with Peter, the son of the owner of the farm which Tony worked on, was dangerous. Peter had his way with words, all syrupy-sweet and tantalizing. Tony did not need that, he wasn't planning on losing his job because he fucked his boss' son.

But he could never avoid the boy fully when he was on the farm, and today was no exception. Peter was already on his tail as he walked out from the barn and towards the pile of wood that needed to be chopped.

"Hi Tony," the younger boy greeted as he hurried after the man. "My mom told me you had a lot of work to get done today so I thought I'd keep you company."

"I don't need company," Tony replied curtly as he grabbed the axe that laid against the wall of the shed.

They always used makeshift stand made out of a huge woodbark that almost reached up to Tony's hip to chop wood on, it was the easiest route. So Tony grabbed a small piece of wood, set it on top of the big bark and with a hard swing of the heavy axe, he split the wood right into two pieces, the axe stopping as it got stuck in the thick bark.

"Stand back, pretty boy, or you might get hurt," he said with a motion of his hand, signaling to Peter to go away.

"I'm fine." Peter smiled as he sat down on a bench not too far away from Tony. He watched the man work in awe, as if he was doing anything other than swinging an axe back and forth. "You're so strong, Tony. I wish I could do that as well."

"Try doing sports other than yoga and maybe you'll be able to lift the axe," Tony mocked him between two hits. "This isn't some game, Peter. I'm working over here, please don't distract me."

"Oh I'm not distracting you, am I," the younger boy asked faux innocently. "I'm just sitting here-" Yes, in those stupid shorts that put his milky white legs on display. "-and I'm not doing anything-" Just talking to me with that voice. "-just watching you work. Because it looks so fascinating, how strong you are."

"Then why not watch the other workers instead? They're probably just as fascinating as I am."

"No they're not."

"Why not?"

"Because you're way sexier."

There it was, again... Tony hated it when Peter did that, so open about what he wanted and always trying to get it shamelessly. Tony felt like a piece of meat under the intense stare of the younger boy, and he started getting more and more uncomforfable. Who did this boy think he was, saying such things?!

"Peter, I work for your father. Hell, I'm over ten years older than you!"

"That doesn't mean a thing, I like men in their thirties way more than men in their twenties. You're more mature, smart, experienced. I like that."

Tony rolled his eyes and got back to chopping wood, that was his work, after all. He tried his best to ignore the younger boy, but it was hard when he was only a few feet away and he looked fucking edible. Tony found himself glancing at Peter more often than not, making him smile triuphantly, which Tony pretended he did not see. It was harder to do his work with the pair of honey eyes (do not ask how did he know what color Peter's eyes were) constantly on him, his hits becoming less accuare until he wasn't even splitting them in half but into thirds and two-thirds. He shook his head, deciding to take a break. He put the chopped wood into a wheelbarrow and manouvered it into the shed, putting them away into the organized pile that stood next to the wall. The next thing he knew, Peter was there next to him, picking up a piece of wood and putting it down next to the ones Tony placed. Tony adjusted it a little so it sat straight, like the rest, and put three more next to it.

"Hey Tones... would you like to come with me to the lake later today?"

Tony scoffed. "It's Tony. And no, if you haven't realized yet, I have a lot of work to do."

"What else are you gonna do?"

"I have to finish chopping wood, lock the animals up and the boss told me there's a car that needs to be checked as well."

"Yes, my car! It doesn't want to start, I don't know what's wrong with it. Ahh, you're gonna look at my car? That's so nice of you Tony, I really appreciate it. Maybe- maybe you could teach me something? Like, I could watch while you work and you tell me how everything works and-"

"No." Tony finished up putting the wood away and lead the wheelbarrow back outside and put it down close to himself as he started chopping wood again. He managed to cut three before he heard Peter's voice again.

"What do you mean no? Why not?"

Tony sighed. "I was told to take a look at your car and fix it, not to give you a car mechanics one-oh-one. And that's exactly what I'm gonna do, no less, no more. Now if you'd please stop distracting me, I'd greatly appreciate that."

Tony heard a small huff behind himself, then saw the boy pass by him and finally left Tony alone. He heard the slam of a door, Peter probably went back to the farm house. So Tony continued chopping wood in peace, but soon regretted sending Peter away because his job was way less interesting without him around. Maybe he did actually need that company...

The sun was starting to set when Tony finally got to checking Peter's car. He put a portable lamp down next to himself as he opened the hood of the car.

"Tell me where it hurts, babygirl," he mumbled to the machine as he smoothed his hands down the engine. He looked through it and found the battery termials. A loose positive cable, of course. Tony carefully removed the negative cable, so he could tighten the positive without getting shocked. Then, he plugged the negative back in, both of them nice and snug in their place. He closed the hood and sat in the car to check if it would start. He turned the key that was still in the ignition and the engine began rumbling. When he stepped on the gas pedal, the vehicle started. Tony laughed victoriously and turned the car off.

This was probably his fourth time that he sat down during the whole day, so he savoured it. He leaned his head back against the seat and took a deep breath. The car smelled like Peter, the most intoxicating scent ever. Tony didn't often get to be engulfed by that smell, but it was so good, he never wanted to leave that bubble he was in, never ever. He knew that's not how it worked, though, and he sighed as he leaned back forward, ready to open the door, when suddenly the passenger door on the other side of him opened, and a very shirtless Peter Parker got into the car, a towel thrown over his shoulder.

"Let's go," he said.

"What? Where?"

"To the lake. You said you had no time because you had work. But this was your last job and now that you fixed my car, we can go and take a relaxing dip together."

"Peter, no-"

"Peter yes. Now start the car, please, I wanna get there before the sun sets fully. It's so pretty, you have to see it."

Tony shook his head again, but when he looked at the puppy dog eyed boy, he knew he lost the battle. He couldn't say no to that sight, he had to go. So with a sigh, he started the engine again and he put it in reverse to back up to the road. Peter told him exactly what direction to go, since Tony hadn't been to the lake yet, and soon they were in a secluded area, nature surrounding them and the small lake. Peter got out of the car and eagerly ran towards the clear water, Tony following in suit.

Peter dropped his pants, now only clad in a pair of tight boxers that perfectly hugged his round ass, and walked into the water. He let out a little yelp as it touched his skin.

"It's a bit cold," he giggled. "But it's still nice, come on!"

Tony shook his head with a slight smile, but started unbuttoning his flannel anyways. He watched as Peter's eyes followed his movements, the boy basically drooling over Tony's exposed upper body. But Tony couldn't say anything, he was no different. Seeing Peter's lean figure was something he was still not used to, probably never will be used to.

He unbuckled and unbuttoned his jeans as well and let them slide down his legs, stepping out of them and his shoes. Now he was also in only his boxers and while he knew he really should not have done it, Peter was irresistible. So he walked into the cool water as well, pleasant against his overheated skin.

At its deepest point, the water came up to Tony's hip, just covering the hem of his boxers, while it reached up to Peter's waist. The height difference between them was so obvious in that moment. Hell, every difference between them was so obvious, Tony's tanned hands against Peter's pale skin, calloused hands on the boy's silky soft sides while Peter placed his own, smooth hands on Tony's chest. They were so close to each other, they were touching each other. And not only that, but the amount of clothes separating them was minimal. It was so much easier to resist Peter on the farm, where people were around them and Tony knew what was his job. Where there was always at least a foot distance between them and an acceptable amount of clothes on them. But now, no one was there to interrupt them, nothing could've possibly made Tony step away from the beautiful boy. He was getting lost in the moment, lost in the honey colored eyes, the endless amount of freckles littering Peter's gorgeous cheeks and the bridge of his nose, the thick eyelases that fluttered so beautifully, like the wings of a graceful butterfly, the deep pink of those soft looking lips. Tony couldn't help his hand that moved on its own, coming up to touch Peter's bottom lip gently and yes, it was so soft, so delicate.

"Just kiss me already," Peter breathed, his usual teasing tone gone, now he was straight up begging. It made that last bit of resistance melt away, the last brick of the wall that Tony built around the two of them smash into tiny pieces, and their lips pressed together within a heartbeat. It was passionate, rough, months of built up tension poured into it. Tony'd hands began roaming up and down Peter's sides and back before one of them finally rested at the back of his neck, pulling him in, deepening the kiss, and the other one just below his ass as it pulled Peter's leg out of the water to wrap around his waist. The younger boy's arms wrapped around his back as well, hands burying into Tony's sweaty hair.

It was perfect, everything about the kiss was perfect and Tony never wanted to stop. Especially not when Peter's other leg followed the one that Tony was holding and he clung to Tony with his whole body. Only then did Tony notice the tent in the younger one's boxers.

"Tony," he gasped between kisses. "Please, do something, please."

And how can a weak, weak man like Tony resist to something like that? He grapped Peter's plump ass with both hands and started grinding the boy down against himself, the sweet friction on their clothes cocks making both of them moan out loud. The kissing came to an end as their jaws dropped in order to let their sounds flow, but they remained close to each other, basically sharing a breath. Their foreheads leaned against each other, half lidded eyes staring into the other's while they moved in tandem, grinding against one another.

"You're so beautiful," Tony said, his voice gravelly. "Skin so pretty and soft... I wanna mark it all up, make it mine. Make you mine."

"Take me. Take me, I'm yours, always have been yours."

"God, Peter. You're so good, fuck, so hot."

"Want everyone to know that I belong to you, Tony. Want them to see that the hottest man in the fucking world owns me. That I'm yours and no one else's-"

"And I'm yours, too."

They shared a few more lazy kisses between loud moans of the other one's name, both of them nearing their climax rapidly. Peter was the first who came, a harsh bite on his shoulder pushing him over the edge. As he came, he let out a scream louder than the ones he had before, which made Tony lose himself as well and come with Peter's name rolling off his tongue like a prayer.

They still held each other close as they came down from their high and tried to catch their breath. Tony was rocking Peter side to side, making the younger boy sleepy.

"Tony," he whispered.

"Yes, baby?"

"Can I tell you a secret?"

"Of course."

"I love you."

Tony chuckled. "Can I tell you a secret as well?"

"Mhm."

"I've loved you ever since I first laid eyes on you."

#starker #starker fanfic #starker fanfiction #tony x peter #tony stark x peter parker #tony stark/peter parker #farm worker!tony #farm owner's son!peter #au #nff

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ghosts-and-swords · 3 years

Text

Before Romance Dawn

Mihawk has a crew but has been keeping away from them for more than a decade to hide them from the government's radar.

Each crewmate had their own coffin boat they used for stealthy attacks.

He met Shanks some time before Roger's execution, but their friendly banters began almost right afterwards. Mihawk's goal had always been to become the strongest swordsman in the world, and Shanks became aware of how weak he was when his captain was executed, so he promised himself to become the very best as well.

At some point, the two of them were considered part of the “Supernovas” of their generation. (I compare them to Luffy and Law to some degree).

Shanks does know and is friendly with Mihawk's crew, just as the swordsman is with the Red Hair Pirates. He keeps their secret and supports Mihawk's play pretend to make everyone believe he's a one-man-crew.

Sometime before Shanks stayed for a year at Dawn Island and lost his arm, their fights became so stupidly dangerous their crews helped the locals evacuate the area for safety.

Eventually they both grew desperate there wasn't a clear winner and they decided to call it a truce, only to fight on a daily basis over the dumbest things.

Over the course of a single year, they had dance-offs, sing-offs, food wars, eating competitions and many many other dumb stuff Mihawk would rather not talk about ever again.

Shanks, on the other hand, won’t shut up about them.

Hawks is a very good cook and a terrific dancer because of that, tho.

Mihawk accepted the title as Shichibukai ten years ago, only because he was bored. Shanks had already lost his arm and mostly no one was able to stand against him in battle, so he took the position to be left alone.

The reason his crew managed to stay off the radar was because Mihawk alone became really famous thanks to his rivalry with Shanks. Though the crew was feared, most people never knew their captain was none other than Hawk Eye Mihawk. When they vanished from sight, most people believed they had been either captured or killed.

Before the timeskip

Mihawk is Shanks' son goth-father (lol. And yes, you know what child I'm talking about you cannot take that headcanon away from me). If Mihawk ever got a child, he'd pick Shanks as their godfather too.

He hasn't considered parenthood as a viable option, but if he did, he'd rather have a daughter (*coughcoughcough*).

His attendance ratio to meetings with the government is below 40%. He only attends when absolutely necessary mostly because he doesn't want to lose his privilege of being left alone.

He's not friendly with the other Warlords, specially Doflamingo, Crocodile and Moria, knowing of the abuse they make of their positions.

Mihawk was ok with Kuma, though he's often tired of his religious preaching. He knew of his alliance with the Revolutionaries before turning into a Pacifista, but doesn’t dwell on it. He’s kinda bitter he sent him Zoro and Perona, though, even if he grew to like the two of them.

He'd never met Hancock before Marineford, but had heard many things about the Snake Princess that made him want to fight against her at some point.

He was actually friendly towards Jinbei until he got imprisoned at Impel Down, but he always believed he was kinda foolish for risking too much in defying Big Mom and joining Luffy’s crew.

Law seemed a promising warlord and another interesting rival swordsman, but it was more than obvious he was just using the government as a stepping stone. He wishes he could also fight him at some point.

He doesn’t have Blackbeard in good regards for his underhanded methods. He didn’t like him because of his beef with Shanks, and he likes him even less afterwards what happened in Marineford. He’s intrigued by his Devil Fruits’ powers, but doesn’t wish to fight against him.

Mihawk knows Buggy is Shanks' friend but cannot believe he was appointed as a Shichibukai. He'd fought against him briefly at Marineford and he thinks Buggy is just one very, very lucky idiot with a bothersome Devil Fruit.

The moment Weevil was appointed as a warlord, Mihawk knew the government no longer needed them.

Living with Zoro & Perona Pt. 1

Mihawk felt he had lost a spark until he met Zoro. When they clashed in East Blue, he took a liking to the young swordsman because he greatly reminded him of himself when he was younger.

We joke a lot about Mihawk’s chronic depression, but I hc that he actually suffers from it. He has a strict training regime and often follows a tight schedule and diet to keep it at bay.

If he feels like his depression is hitting him hard, he stops drinking for a while. He doesn’t take medication.

It was getting really bad until Zoro defied him and later on he and Perona crashed into his home. Ever since the three of them had been living together, he has felt his depressive episodes are shorter and not as hard to overcome.

He has never told anyone about this, though he is sure Shanks and his former crewmates know.

At first he was really annoyed Kuma had sent him two children to take care, but as time went by, he began to enjoy their company a lot. Zoro was a good practice partner and Perona had similar tastes in decor, books and fashion.

He still thinks they are annoying, mostly when they fight, but he gets them to shut up real fast.

Mihawk kills bugs around the castle for Perona, after too much nagging.

He forbid Zoro from drinking while mastering haki because he knows that’s what works for him when he needs to focus.

You’d never hear him say it out loud, but he’s quite attached to the humandrills. When they became a bit more amicable, he’d usually talk to them and pat them.

Contrary to what Perona and Zoro initialy thought, Mihawk is a dog person. He doesn’t dislike cats, but he freaking loves dogs.

He would never want to have one, since he believes he’d not be able to take care of another living being.

Perona considered giving him one, but decided it was better not to piss him off or she’d end up taking care of the pup.

In some timeline in which they keep living together (andmarryandhaveadaughter) they do adopt a dog and call him Cerberus. Mihawk likes crafting armor for him.

Mihawk is good at remembering important dates and very good at giving gifts. He once gave Zoro a silver flask and Perona a very beautiful sundress. In return, they try to give him cool gifts for his birthday, but they never manage to win against him lol

Mihawk pretends he doesn’t know where a certain cocoa tree came from. Perona knows.

TBC Other Headcanons 1 | 2 | 3

#dracule mihawk #one piece #one piece headcanons #headcanons #my writing #shanks

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tartagilicious · 4 years

Text

recollection / shaw bai

did I write a fic for someone we’ve interacted with twice? yes. // w.c: 1.9k // requested by @bridgetysm

[cloud boy by sabby sousa]

—

“___!”

A familiar, shockingly loud voice filled my ears, startling my eyes into focus. I remember that day almost as if it were yesterday, the unnatural feeling of blood pooling in my mouth and beneath the bruises on my forehead so vivid that I could conjure it up even now.

But, another thing that still stands untouched in my memory, is Shaw’s expression in that first moment, clear in the haze of the evening sky. The first face I’d seen in days after being ambushed on my way home from work somehow felt like a new one, his fearful expression even startling me at first. It was uncharacteristic, the way his normally slack face was taut with concern, and how his amber eyes seemed to be drowning in a type of panic I didn’t know he knew how to feel.

But the relief I felt when locking eyes with the very man I’d been hoping to see -- it was still immeasurable.

His breathing had been loud and laboured, but there wasn’t a single part of me that minded, because the slight breeze on my forehead as he worked to untie the bonds I'd been constricted to was all I needed to be reminded that I wasn’t alone anymore.

“You’re safe,” Shaw finally said this after the thin rope fell to the ground, his voice much softer than I had been expecting. “Thank god.”

Something changed that day for both of us. Whether it was in the tender way he touched my beaten skin, or how he stayed by my side that night without a word, I’m not sure. But I don’t find myself wishing it’d never happened, so I can’t say it exactly turned things for the worst.

It was difficult beforehand, and no less annoying to have such a resource at the tip of my fingers that was yet simultaneously so unreachable. I knew that I should’ve known better than to let someone like him into my life, especially in a world where placing trust in someone could mean certain death. But against my better judgement, I decided to stick with him. I made a gamble and chose to have faith in the man whose presence practically reeked of trouble -- in every part of him from the heavy steps of his doc martens up to that cocky smile of his that seemed permanent.

And, likely to the surprise of us both, it wasn’t a waste.

In the beginning, I took his words seriously only because they were all I had. But now, I take them as they are because I’d found a genuine bond in someone I had never expected much from. And truthfully, I expected very little after his spiel the first time we’d met in this winter world, so I admired his willingness to climb out of the hole he’d dug himself into.

I just never thought my admiration would spiral.

Shaw is by no means perfect. He mocks and he teases without a hint of trepidation, he’s never clear, and barely lends his help without being cryptic about it first. But, he also always somehow manages to pop up when I need him, too. He listens better than most, and knows how to joke around until my stomach hurts from laughing too hard.

He gives me a true sense of the term tough love, that’s for sure.

But, it’s not a feeling I can bring myself to hate. Because no matter the roadblocks our situation may place in front of us, a glance into his smiling eyes is always enough to drag me back down to earth -- and I’m grateful for that.

It’s still not an easy feat loving someone like him, though. Shaw is barely ever caught being serious, whether it be in truth or in those he sides with, and it’s admittedly frustrating. The reasons can change per the day, but my insecurity around him all trails back to the same thing:

the fear that he isn’t serious with me.

Relationships can vary greatly, especially when looking at them from a romantic versus friendly standpoint. But in my case, I was pinned with the unceremonious task to watch out for both. Shaw is a wild card in almost any group he chooses to throw himself into, and it didn’t take me long to realise that the same ideal didn’t stop at me.

I’ve spent countless nights awake wondering if his number would still be in my phone the next morning. Hours trying to comb through what I’d said to him that day, and trying to figure out if any of it would upset him enough to make him leave.

But every time, all I’m met with the next morning is the same unchanging arrogant smile, blissfully unaware of all the turmoil I had gone through in preparation to see it again.

This same cycle goes on irritatingly for weeks, and between the stress of Shaw and everything else, my inner scale feels like it’s a hair’s length away from malfunctioning. He should be the least of my problems, but the punk had somehow managed to claw himself to the top of the list anyway.

“Something happen this morning to make you upset, little girl?” Shaw garners my attention with a very true-to-self line. “Or is that just your face?”

I turn to him with a doubtful look, trying to contain my smile. “If you think that’s the case, Shaw, then something’s been coming and ruining my mornings for weeks now.”

Even after copious signs of something changing for the better, Shaw continued to inadvertently push everything aside. With only a signature smug smile, of course.

“Hey, you’re going about it all wrong!” Shaw had tsked at me once for not taking his advice, but still helped me recuperate regardless of his tone.“You’d be running around like a chicken with their head cut off at this rate without me.”

But nothing can go on forever.

“You’re not seriously thinking of going alone, are you?”

Shaw says this to me one night after visiting to warn me of the black cabin’s movement, his expression so oddly incredulous that I almost try to reach up to rub my eyes. I’m caught off guard, and it’s easy to tell when I don’t respond, but Shaw takes my surprise and still continues as naturally as can be.

“You couldn’t ever find it by yourself. Not now, probably not in a hundred years.” It’s obvious that his tone is slightly mocking, but a hopeful part of me wants to believe that he’s still worried nonetheless.

I sigh and turn away, mumbling, “How nice of you to think so.”

He sets his hands down on the kitchen island, putting his full weight down and somehow still managing to look right at home in a place he barely visits. I notice him shrug limply from where I stand next to him, and can’t help the way my heart lurches.

he’s making fun of me again, isn’t he?

I resist the urge to bite down on my lip, fearing that it’ll draw more attention than needed.

“I’m just saying.” He begins with a type of smile that has me preparing for the worst, turning his head to look me in the eye. “Besides, it’s real nice having me around to help, you can’t deny that.”

I find myself answering the question privately in my head, but outwardly, I just roll my eyes and ask, “Maybe now, but probably not for much longer. I doubt you’ll still need me once we’re back in the real world, anyway.”

He doesn’t answer. I think I even catch him hesitating for a moment, but then his lips curve up into a somehow more gentle smile.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, little girl. That observation of yours only further proves that you’re gonna need as much help as you can get.” He stands up straighter as he speaks, even going as far as to stretch casually.

I give him a look. My delusional heart can’t help but want to stop and selfishly fish out a double meaning to his words, but I go on anyway. “What, so I’m wrong? But even if I am, how am I supposed to know what’s ever running through that head of yours? You still barely tell me anything.”

“Try a bit harder, ___. Same as always. What you know is dependent on your decisions alone.”

I begin to shake my head, hesitantly asking, “...And if I don’t?”

Shaw only stares at me.

“Would it matter to you if I stayed the way I am? Weak and unable to do anything alone?”

I know I’m about to cross a barrier. I know, but I don’t stop. I turn to face him anyway, my expression horribly open after weeks of being schooled.

“Or would you leave me too if that happened?” I ask softly, my lips merging into a natural frown as I drop my head. “Like everyone else?”

I go painfully silent as I search for the right words to say, and in the midst of it, Shaw leans down slightly. I look up just as his nose stops inches from mine, the concern in his eyes just as stark as the surprise in my own.

I feel his breath on my face as he murmurs, “____… what’s this about?”

Words catch in my throat as I gage how close he is, and they stay down with every slow rise and fall of my chest. It stretches into a minute where neither of us speak, but I note his evident patience and gather the courage to restart.

“Well... I just want to know. After everything we’ve been through in this world,” I say, looking up to meet his eyes again. “Would details like that matter? Would you still be here even if I one day say that I can’t do it?”

A flurry of emotions swirl through his eyes, but none come forward in his words, so I say something that I hope will be a good push to get what I need to settle the insatiable thrumming of my heart.

“I don’t know if something like that would really matter to you, but to me, it’s everything. It’s my only connection to you.”

Shaw gulps.

“It’s-- it’s not. Don’t talk like that.”

“How is it not?” I whisper, my voice breaking. “I love you, okay? I love you, Shaw, but I don’t even know whose side you’re on half the time, so why should I have the nerve to think you’ll stay on mine?”

He doesn’t speak, but hesitantly, he reaches up as his thumb comes up to collect the tears that adorn my cheeks, the leather of his fingerless gloves leaving a soft warmth in its wake.

“That sense,” Shaw trails off, his lips slightly parted as his eyes trail down. “It’s well placed, but... unneeded this time.”

I am only given seconds to grasp what he’s said before he maneuvers his hand to support my chin and my mind goes blank. I’m still trying to catch up when he presses his lips to mine, carefully, as if he doesn’t want to startle me.

I feel the tight ball in my chest suddenly release as my frame relaxes, much to his obvious delight, as I kiss back. I had never quite found enough courage to think about what his kisses would feel like, but now I realise that anything I could’ve imagined wouldn’t even come close.

It feels like only seconds before we part again, both of us panting as we cling loosely to each other’s clothing.

“Because I’ll always be on your side, whether you like it or not.”

I let out a small laugh, the look in my eyes softening as I meet his. I see something unfamiliar swimming through his eyes, but somehow, I’m still eager to explore it.

“Then I'll take your word for it.”

[read more of my works here~]

#mr love queen’s choice #mlqc #mr love #mr love queen’s choice shaw #mlqc shaw #mr love shaw #mlqc x reader #mr love queen’s choice x reader #mlqc fic #mlqc imagine #mr love queen’s choice imagine #mlqc xiaoling #mr love xiaoling #mr love queen’s choice xiaoling #this.. I don’t hate it #ngl

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devil-baker · 4 years

Text

What Is Due

Initially, he had found it irksome that she was so afraid of him.

The way she scanned the room for him when she came down for meal times, then proceeded to sit between Mammon and Beel. He could feel the apprehension from her end whenever he texted her about a matter that she was a part of, especially when he requested that she come to wherever he was so they could both take care of it. When she sat and read books or did homework in a place other than her room, and he drifted near, whether out of happenstance or to talk to her, she would tense. As if she were getting ready to run.

Lucifer had found it annoying at first. But as the weeks turned into months and her skittishness lessened only marginally, he began to feel something different; pity. And perhaps something that resembled apologeticness. What for, he had no idea.

He was aware that he greatly resembled Elaine’s ex-boyfriend. The man who had taken advantage of her since her higher education days, who had abused her for years. She had never spoken about what exactly was done to her during that time, but Lucifer could see it plain as day in the image he preserved within his mind. The image of Elaine seeing him upon her arrival to the Devildom.

Terror was something he had seen so many times in humans. Millenia of their follies (mainly comprised of petty little wars) had terrific examples of it. But it had still caught him off guard when he saw that very same look in her eyes paired right alongside something else. Recognition. Or rather, it had been recognition only for a second before she had realized that he was someone else entirely.

He had stood by and watched as she slowly but steadily formed pacts with his brothers, til only Lucifer was left.

When Elaine had finally formed her pact with him, there was a major element of apprehension to the way she held herself. He would never admit that it stung. Being the Avatar of Pride, he always viewed himself as above such trivial emotions. However, there were times when he would wonder with a pang if she viewed him as so awful. The same level of heinousness as her ex.

He wished that they could be closer. He invited her to tea, he offered her assistance with assignments, but she would always turn them down, claiming that she had a prior engagement. Mammon or Asmo was taking her shopping. Satan was helping her with the assignment. And so, he was left to his own devices.

His lordship was not much help. The few times Lucifer had expressed to Diavolo his desire to become closer to Elaine, Diavolo had reacted with incredulousness.

“How could she not want to be closer to you?!” he would exclaim. Diavolo would go on to list Lucifer’s qualities, such as his meticulousness, his love and caring towards his brothers, his refined tastes, his intellect, and, inevitably, his beauty.

Lucifer was not deaf to the rumors. Those surrounding Diavolo, about him harboring romantic feelings for Lucifer. He often thought there was some truth to it. After all, Diavolo, without a hint of subtlety, grabbed every opportunity to shower Lucifer with gifts and attention, much in the same fashion of that between lovers. He was flattered by such special treatment on his lordship’s part, and perhaps there was even a time when Lucifer had reciprocated such romantic feelings. But nowadays, there was far too much on his plate for him to consider pursuing a relationship of that sort.

So preoccupied with keeping tight leashes on his brothers and their antics, his academics and administrative duties, managing the nuts and bolts of the exchange program. Such nuts and bolts meant keeping an eye on the exchange students as well as maintaining friendly relationships between them. Which was hard to do when one such as Elaine was so nervous around him. Someone so very powerful, peculiar, easygoing, even alluring, and yet so easily frightened by him.

He contemplated all of this as he drifted through the house. When his train of thought came to an end, Lucifer found himself in front of Elaine’s bedroom door. He furrowed his brow, gnawed at his lip, then rapped on the door quickly, three times.

“Come in!” Elaine called through the door.

Lucifer hesitated, then turned the door handle and entered.

Elaine was seated at her desk, scribbling away in her academic notebook and occasionally glancing at her textbook. Soft jazz was playing from her laptop. She didn’t even look up.

“Sorry, I’m kinda drowning in homework right now. It’s rather fascinating, though!” she laughed softly. “I’ll be up all night studying at this rate. Not that I mind. I like having something interesting to focus on!”

Lucifer found himself smiling. He hadn’t known that she could be this chatty.

“Sorry, I’m just goin’ on and on. Need someth-” She finally looked up.

The change was instantaneous. Her pen scratched hard and her smile vanished. Elaine stared at Lucifer with wide eyes and didn’t move at all, but she seemed to be trying to make herself seem smaller, less noticeable.

“... Need something?” she managed, her voice exponentially quieter.

“Not really. Elaine, I wanted to check in and make sure that you are doing alright.”

“I’m fine.”

“Are your classes going well?”

“Yes.”

“I see.” He paused. “Is anything... troubling you of late?”

“Not really.”

This was going nowhere. The uneasiness was almost painful.

“Elaine.”

“Yes?”

“I want you to know that I am very fond of you,” he said awkwardly. “I will do my utmost to protect you and ensure your wellbeing... Even if you yourself are afraid of me.”

Lucifer believed that was the end of it and he turned to leave.

“... Please wait.” Elaine’s chair scraped against the hardwood as she rose from it. She came around the desk and approached him.

“I... I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“I keep... I keep holding you to the same standard as I did with him. And it’s not fair to you. Y-you’re tryin’ to connect with me, I can see it. But I’m just over here pushing you away. You look just like him, you know. ‘Cept his hair was longer. And curly. And he had blue eyes. But the way you carry yourself, your build, your facial structure, even the way you speak sometimes are all so reminiscent of him. When I first arrived, I was so... so terrified that you were him, just with a haircut and colored contacts. I thought I was gonna end up back at square one and all the hurt he’d ever caused me was gonna start all over again. But livin’ here with y’all... I can see that you’re not him, and yet I still distance myself kind of as a reflex.”

“Elaine...”

“So, I’m sorry. I really am.”

“... Thank you.”

Elaine hesitated, then slowly came closer to Lucifer. She wordlessly raised her arms and wrapped them around his torso.

Lucifer blinked in shock, then gently returned the embrace. Nothing was said, but he was pleasantly surprised at how lovely Elaine’s hug was. She held onto him tightly, her body warm and soft. Her hands slightly rubbed into his back, her touch feather-like. It was the sort of hug where the receiver could tell that the giver was so perfectly, absolutely comforting. Like a warm blanket on a cold night.

Before he could stop himself, Lucifer melted into the hug. Elaine staggered under his weight.

“Whoa, are you okay?” she asked.

“My apologies.” He quickly stood up. “That was... You are surprisingly good at embraces.”

“Heh. Thanks.”

“... Once you are finished with your studies, would you care to join me for a cup of tea?”

A smile tugged at the corners of Elaine’s mouth. “That sounds nice. Once I’m done, if it’s not too late, then yes.”

#obey me #obey me swd #obey me fic #obey me lucifer #elaine delaplace #fanfiction

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kprciffdw · 3 years

Text

Kim Possible: The Extremely Secret Files-Part 15

They eventually arrived at the Disposal Facility. It appeared to be a massive hollow sphere. They flew directly inside it. Ratchet: "Alright, Kimberly, input the password."

She did just that, but then the security system started attacking them. Kim: "What's going on!? I thought I entered the correct password. Did I?" Clank: "Yes, I am certain that you did." Ron: "Then why are the defenses attacking us!?!" Ratchet: "I don't know, but we've got to hold them off until Mr. Fizzwidget gets here. Kimberly, take the second controls!"

And with that, they fought off the defense system. It took them an extensive amount of time doing so. As they fought on, Kim grew more and more suspicious of the situation at hand. Ron, on the other hand, was still freaking out, which greatly annoyed everyone.

They were eventually able to fight off the defenses long enough for Mr. Fizzwidget to call them back. Mr. Fizzwidget: "Oh! Um, hello? Come in! Can you hear me?" Kim: "Mr. Fizzwidget, the password you gave us didn't work." Mr. Fizzwidget: "Implausible! Unless…uh…is this Tuesday or Wednesday? Anyway, sorry to have missed our meeting, you guys. I was called away to film a commercial for our weapons facilitory." Kim: "Mr. Fizzwidget! We really need to talk about the…" Mr. Fizzwidget: "Commercial? I thought you would never ask. Here, take a look at this."

They watched the entire commercial of the Weapons Facility. Mr. Fizzwidget: "So, what do you guys think? Spectraculiary, wasn't it?" Kim: "Uh…yeah…it was…great…Mr. Fizzwidget, we need to…" Mr. Fizzwidget: "Oh, I couldn't agree more. Heh, heh, heh. Fizzwidget out." Ratchet: "Sir, wait!"

It was too late; he already disconnected. Ratchet: "Mr. Fizzwidget! Come in!"

Ratchet tried to contact him again. Kim: "Well, this has been frustratingly inconvenient. Although…something about this seems…a little too inconvenient. Ron, what do you think?" Ron: "That looked like the most dangerous and frightening tour anyone would ever go on." Kim: "Ron, focus!" Ron: "Oh, sorry, KP. I'm just overwhelmed by the sheer terror of everything that looks deadly. I need something to calm my nerves. Can we stop and pick up some Nacos?" Kim, Ratchet, Clank: "Ron!" Ron: "I'll take that as a no…" Clank: "Perhaps we will be able to find him at the weapons facility." Kim: "Yeah, let's head over there now." Ratchet: "My thoughts exactly."

They were flying a long flight through space. Just then, Wade contacted them on the dashboard monitor. Wade: "Hey, guys, how are things going?" Ratchet: "To put it lightly, Wade, very, very irritating!" Wade: "Oh, that doesn't sound good, but give the circumstances, I'm not really surprised." Kim: "That geezer has been completely absent-minded. He's been a lot less focused than Ron!" Clank: "We have made an attempt to meet with him at the Megacorp Disposal Facility to discuss with him about the Experiment, but our efforts have been, shall I say, for not." Kim: "We were attacked by the facility defenses even though Mr. Fizzwidget gave us a password. Even worse than that, he never showed up to help us out at all." Ron: "He said he was called off from meeting us there to film a commercial of perhaps one of the most terrifying places to have any tours of any kind ever!" Wade: "Hm…well, I really hate to tell you guys this, but Mr. Fizzwidget is not as much of a scatterbrain as you may think; he's actually been avoiding you guys on purpose."

Ratchet immediately became alarmed. Ratchet: "What!?" Ron: "How did you come to that conclusion?" Wade: "I have been hacking in the Megacorp main computer and found some incredibly important data. One of them involved Mr. Fizzwidget's schedule. He lied to you about getting called away to film that commercial. He planned on going over to that weapons facility for that commercial from the start. There were no changes to the schedule and no indications of meeting you at the disposal facility or at all for that matter." Kim: "So, we flew all that way to the disposal facility for no reason?" Wade: "I…wouldn't exactly say that…and it gets worse. I looked into the data banks of that facility and found that its defenses can't be deactivated by a simple password, but by a complex binary code that only Mr. Fizzwidget and all of his employees know." Ratchet: "So he had us sent there to be blown to bits!?" Wade: "I would believe that to be the case." Kim: "And judging by how he reacted when we contacted him, he didn't expect to survive." Wade: "I wouldn't be surprised if that was true."

Ratchet growled angrily. Ron: "Does he even know that he has a vicious monster in his possession?" Wade: "I would think so. You would have to be far too deeply oblivious to not recognize that." Kim: "And you already told us that he's not as unaware of everything he's doing as we thought. Great, now I'm really worried about what he plans to do with the Experiment." Wade: "I tried to look into any intel regarding the Experiment but the main computer's firewall kicked in and I was blocked out. Sorry, guys, I wish I could have done more to help." Ratchet: "That's OK, Wade, even if you a little helpful, you have done a lot more for us than what that geezer ever did!" Wade: "Always happy to help, I'll keep digging for more data regarding Megacorp and the Experiment. By the way, where are you guys heading?" Clank: "We are heading over to the Megacorp Weapons Facility to hopefully find and speak with Mr. Fizzwidget." Ratchet: "More like confront him and demand him to tell us why he tried to have us killed!" Wade: "Uh, well, OK, but don't be too disappointed if he isn't there because he most likely isn't." Ratchet: "That's fine, even if we don't find him there, I wouldn't think our efforts of getting there would be for nothing. Regardless, I'm sure we'll find something vital there." Wade: "Well…OK, I'll contact you guys again as soon as I find out anything important." Ratchet: "Yeah, you keep at it, Wade. At least I know we can count on you."

Wade smiled before he cut off communications with them. Kim: "Yeesh! I had no idea that things were to really get this bad." Ratchet: "Yeah, me neither and it will only get worse from here." Ron: "Geez, between Dr. P's space station and this whole issue with Mr. Fizzwidget, things have really gotten intense. Are you sure we can't stop for some Nacos?"

Kim, Ratchet and Clank looked towards Ron and gave him some very nasty looks. Ron was greatly discouraged by this. Ron: "Never mind…" Ratchet: "Prepare yourselves, everyone, we're almost there."

They eventually arrived at the Weapons Facility on Planet Todano. Immediately after they landed, they noticed a tour bus flying in and dropping off a crowd of robot civilians. Kim: "Oh, look, they really do give tours here just like that commercial said they would." Ron: "And if what we saw on that commercial was any more accurate, then this tour will be very dangerous." Kim: "I sure hope not."

Just then, Clank spotted something that startled him. Clank: "Unfortunately, what Ron has just mentioned was precise. Look."

They looked over and noticed the civilians starting their tour led by a Fizzwidget bot and directly into a path which cuts through a field of monstrous, rabid squirrels. Ron: "Oh, no! KP! Ratchet! Clank! Those mutant squirrels are going for those tourists!" Ratchet: "Not if I have anything to say about it! Come on!"

They rushed out to the field as fast as they could. The squirrels were fast approaching the civilians and they were about to attack, but then Ratchet and the rest of the group came in and fought the squirrels just in time to protect the civilians. As the tour continued on, they were faced with more of the vicious wildlife. Ratchet and the others made certain that not even one civilian was harmed. However, during the fight, the squirrels took an unusual interest in Ron, which he found very terrifying, they then chased after him. He ran away from them while screaming. Kim, Ratchet and Clank stood by and watched all of this take place. Ratchet: "Um…OK? This is weird." Clank: "At least he is luring them away from the tourists." Kim: "We have to do something! Those squirrels will rip him apart." Ratchet: "I agree. Clank, you help Ron out, Kimberly and I will run ahead."

Ratchet ran off with Kim. They continued the fight together. They kept the fight going all the way to the end of the tour. After they were able to fight off all of the squirrels, the civilians rejoiced from being saved. Kim and Ratchet rushed over to them and smiled as they were being cheered at. A little girl approached Kim; she looked down at the little girl as they stood idly for a bit. She then pulled out what looked like another piece of Dr. Possible's space shuttle. Little Girl: "Um…thank you for saving us. I don't know any other way to repay you; I just have this to give you. I hope you would appreciate this." Kim: "Oh! Absolutely! I have been looking for objects a lot like that. Thank you!"

She took the object from the little girl. The civilians waved goodbye as another tour bus arrived. They got on board it and it flew away. Ratchet: "Well, that was a very interesting turn of events." Kim: "Yep, we saved a group of robot citizens from those monstrous, alien squirrels and collected another piece of my dad's space shuttle in the process."

She pulled out the container that was given to her by Wade and placed the shuttle piece into it. She put the container away as Clank rushed back towards her and Ratchet. Clank: "I can see that you have successfully fended off those rodents and saved those tourists from being devoured." Kim: "Sure did. Uh, where's Ron?"

Clank pointed towards another direction. Kim and Ratchet looked over and noticed the squirrels fighting to get Ron's pants off while he was screaming in the process. They managed to rip off almost all of his pants, he ran off, still screaming, while the squirrel fought to rip apart and devour his pants.

Ron managed to rush back towards his friends, wearing nothing but the waist part of his pants plus one pocket with which Rufus was still in. He had a very irritated look on his face from the epidemic. Ratchet: "Uh…way to…take one for the team, Ron."

The Pants Regenerator restored his pants miraculously. Kim: "Good thing those tourists left when they did. I'm sure you would have not wanted them to see you like that."

Ron groaned. Ratchet: "I'm…guessing you'll want that Naco you keep asking for." Ron: "You've got that right!" Ratchet: "OK, this time, we'll concede to that." Kim: "Um…sounds fair…" Clank: "I am not looking forward to this." Ratchet: "Come on, we need to search this facility for any vital intel regarding Mr. Fizzwidget and that Experiment."

They then rushed off.

They eventually arrived at the front of the facility entrance. There, they fought their way into and through the entire weapons facility. They fought against countless robots within the complex, with the robots respawning continuously. Ron: "(groan) What does this facility need all of these robots for?" Kim: "Hm…that's a good question, Ron. I know they're worker bots, but doesn't this seem greatly overdoing it to have so many of them, not to mention having them respawn like this."

They kept fighting through the complex, room after room after room, until they reached a small chamber at the very end which contained a small screen. On the screen was the female Lombax transmitting to them. Lombax: "Angela Cross calling Ratchet on secure band 7-Echo-Foxtrot." Ratchet: "Ratchet here. I read you loud and clear." Kim: "So, Angela is your name, huh? Interesting." Ron: "You know something? Ratchet was calling you by a completely different name." Ratchet: "Ron!" Angela: "Oh, was he now? Anyway, I'm afraid I have some bad news, Thugs-4-Less have completely taken over my flying lab." Kim: "Hold on for a sec. Weren't those boneheads working for you?" Angela: "Not anymore. Apparently someone has made them a better offer." Ron: "Aw, man! We could have had those thug guys on our side!" Kim: "Well, I'm not disappointed by that. I would love to have another rematch with their dimwitted leader." Ratchet: "You said it, Kimberly." Clank: "Hm, it seems as though problems are arising everywhere." Angela: "Tell me about it, between the Thugs and the Protopets, this whole galaxy is heading for…" Kim: "Wait! Protopets?" Angela: "Oh! Yeah! It's what they're calling the "Experiment" now. Here watch this."

They watched a commercial of a little boy being attacked by the Experiment while the commercial announced it as a new, playful friend for the boy. Ratchet: "That thing is going to be a pet?" Ron: "That is just sick and wrong on so many levels." Clank: "Oh, no, Megacorp intends to market a killer. That is simply unconscionable!" Angela: "Which is exactly what I was trying to tell everyone!" Kim: "So, that's what you meant when you told us what Megacorp plans to do with it is a mistake." Angela: "Exactly! There will be disastrous consequences if that monster is distributed." Kim: "No kidding! We would have never handed that thing over to Mr. Fizzwidget if we knew this would happen. I'm afraid to say the worst of it doesn't even end there. From what Wade has told us about that geezer, he has been dodging all of our attempts to reason with him on purpose." Angela: "Uh, who's Wade?" Ratchet: "10 year old super genius who works with Kimberly and Ron on all of there missions." Kim: "And if what he was saying about him was true, then it's almost certain that he knows exactly what he's doing with that thing and what will happen." Clank: "We must find and confront Mr. Fizzwidget at all costs." Angela: "Well, if you feel that you must, then you should try to find him on the Planet Boldan. I'll upload the coordinates to you." Ratchet: "Let's go, you guys. This could be our last chance."

They rushed out as fast as they could. Nearby, a dark figure had been observing them as they were exchanging intel with Angela. Shego: "Dr. D, do you read me? I just listened in on Kimmie and her little pals chit-chatting away. They'll be heading for some planet called Boldan." Drakken: "Good work, Shego. The Thugs and I will be setting a trap for them there. They won't see this coming." Shego: "Gotcha. I'll meet you at that new prison. This is going to be fun."

#Kim Possible #Ratchet and Kim Possible Chronicles #Ratchet and Clank #Ratchet #Clank #Ron Stoppable #Rufus #Wade #Mr. Fizzwidget #Angela Cross #Protopets #Dr. Drakken #Shego #Bogon Galaxy #Going Commando

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writtenbylalaloverss · 5 years

Text

The Iron Hearted Ruler Prologue

It was the beginning of the Summer season, when the most feared ruler fell in love. He wouldn't let people into his kingdom, only when there were parties or celebrations he felt like sharing. It wasn't until one night when he met her, she was a stunning royal woman. She wore a tight fitting ballgown that was colored in the most expensive and lavish (Color) fabrics, Diamond accents were sewn into the fabric to make it shine miles away. King Gajeel couldn't take his eyes off of her, he truly wanted her, she was going to be his queen.

Gajeel spent the rest of the night focused on her, trying to catch her gaze, which seemed to be everywhere but him. Getting annoyed he smiled as he walked over to her, gently tapping at her shoulder.

"Milady would you care to dance?" He asked her a large smile plastered on his face, something he never gives out freely.

"Oh yes, I take it you have some place else in mind? As the dance floor is quite full, Your Majesty" she replied.

"Oh yes, I do have a spot in mind. Now please hold my hand as I take us there"

Gajeel lead her to the outside balcony, which had two grand staircases attached to either side, leading into the massive garden.

"Your castle is quite large, you must get lonely here" (Name) spoke.

"Oh yes I do, but I tend to keep busy to avoid worrying about simple matters"

"Simple matters?"

"Like having a Queen, Don't get me wrong it's a dream to have someone to share this with but right now I need to focus on making sure everyone knows who the Black Steel Gajeel is"

"And who exactly is he?"

"He's someone who rules by force, Someone who won't cave when the pressure is too much. Someone who will remain strong"

"You must have quite the goal if you tend to live your life alone"

"I just have one goal, Everyone to either love me or fear me"

"Surely you've thought about your Queen, you must have women lined up left and right for you"

"I do but they hold no interest to me, I need to find myself someone who will understand that I have a goal and I will do everything to succeed my dreams. Though there's been this one woman that caught my eye tonight"

"Oh? Who must this mystery woman be?"

"Well, she's currently dancing with the kingdoms worst dancer, who keeps stepping on her toes. I apologize for that my dear"

"Oh? Well she's not that upset, he's quite the looker, despite not dancing to save his life" she teased.

"I must say, will I get to know your name?"

"I am (Lastname) (Name), Princess of the Floral Kingdom"

"Well Princess, what do you say wanna be my Queen?" Gajeel spoke with a shit eating grin on his face, as if what he just declared wasn't the most ridiculous request on earth.

"Your Highness! It's much to soon for that! You must talk to my Kingdom's Officials and propose the idea of you even possibly Courting me! Even then our courting is much different then yours, you must stay in my village for two weeks to prove to my father that you deserve my hand. My father then must put you through trials of trust, it's a long and hard process. Clearly I am not worthy of such love"

"Yes you, you are the most gorgeous woman here, I couldn't keep my eyes off of you the moment you walked through those doors, the way you presented yourself and even helped that one servant who tripped over their own two feet, brought warmth to my heart that I didn't even know existed, I truly do want to be your husband and I will take those trials on like the man you deserve. I will give you everything, you'll never need to lift a finger, you'll be the most loved and happiest queen in all the seven kingdom's combined. Just give me the night to prove it" he spoke, holding her hands and looking down into her eyes.

"Okay Gajeel, prove it tonight"

And that night he proved it to (Name), Two weeks later he left his kingdom in the hands of his most trusted right hand. He was in charge of making sure the kingdom was in one piece as Gajeel would return soon. Gajeel was in the carriage annoyed that he had to be stuck in for who knows how long, Gajeel and vehicles don't mix, he's known for getting sick. In fact most of the Seven rulers, tend to get sick durning it. Gajeel put on a brave face and tried his best to relax as his future wife was riding on his.

"Your Majesty we have arrived, I present you the Floral Kingdom" his driver announced and opens the doors.

Gajeel's eyes nearly popped out of his face, the Kingdom was covered with flowers. Flowers hanging on lampposts, in beautiful arrangements long the cobblestone pathways.

"Your Majesty If you will please follow me, the King and Queen gladly await your presence" a royal servant lead him towards the grand castle.

Upon entering Gajeel was blown away from the sight before him, his woman. (Name) was on the floor helping bathe Orphan children, well what he assumed to be orphans.

Gajeel watched as (Name) got dirty and helped the other maids wash and dry these children, giving them clean clothes and food.

"What's going on?" He asked the servant

"Oh you see princess (Name) has the most loving and loyal heart to her Kingdom, she isn't afraid to get dirty and help her village. She has the most kindest heart in the village, every man has fallen for her charms and wanted to court her but they actions weren't pure, so they failed the trials" the servant replied. "Now please come along, the King doesn't like to be kept waiting"

The servant lead Gajeel to the royal throne room, where the King and Queen of The Floral Kingdom sat graciously.

"Your Majesties I present you Gajeel Redfox, King of the Iron Kingdom" the servant announced and bowed before them, Gajeel also bowed.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Your Majesty. Now it's to my understanding that you wish to court our daughter, the princess into a union of marriage?" The king spoke.

"Yes Your Majesty I wish to court you Daughter the Princess, with the hopes of marriage."

"What can you bring us if we agree to you courting her"

"I can bring you protection, I've noticed that you have a small army, with my most trusted men I can grant you a much larger army"

"Stop right there, we don't not wish to have an army, the men hired do quite the job. We simply wish to know why you are so different then the many suitors that failed before you"

"I promise to make her the most happiest woman, I vow to always love her and be there for her, never making her feel less my equal"

"When you say equal? What do you mean exactly?"

"I mean that she will be privy to all my royal affairs, her opinions will be greatly appreciated. She will be the most important person in my life, she'll never be second to anyone or anything"

"Hmm, well I must say that you do seem to care greatly for my daughter. Your first trial will be to help her bath those little orphans and then sparring our toughest knights-"

"Honey that's simply too much, just simply bathing the orphans and helping ease (Name)'s work load would be plenty for the first trial. I do hope you aren't afraid to get dirty"

The queen smiled as she shut up her husband. “Our servant will be able to guide you towards your room and help you change, I can assure you it’ll be much better to soil some regular clothes instead of your royal attire, my Husband has so graciously left some of his clothes for you to use”

Gajeel bowed and thanked both of them before following the servant to the guest corridors.

The room Gajeel was staying in was covered in a thick velvet red, the center of the room was the lush king sized bed. The bed was covered in a thick black and sliver covers. The servant started to help Gajeel strip and then change into simpler clothes, a puffy white shirt, and black bottoms.

“Please follow me and I’ll show you to the princess”

The walk towards her was making Gajeel’s heart beat faster then normal, he couldn’t understand why. He was falling more and more in love with the princess. Once he reached her he still smiled at her, she was still sitting in the center of the large room and was still washing the children.

“Princess, I am here to help you wash these children” he spoke as softly as he could not to scare the children.

“Oh King Gajeel, What a pleasant surprise. Can I Help you?” She spoke to him.

“Oh no? I’m supposed to be helping you, with these small children” he replied slightly more nervously.

“Oh okay, makes sense as to why you are wearing the kings old clothes, anyways grab a sponge and a child, and start scrubbing”

Gajeel followed her commands and started to follow her actions. After washing the twenty little children it was time to take them outside and have a small lunch. Gajeel was impressed with her kindness.

“So why do you do this?” He asked

“Well the orphanage doesn’t have the funds to care for all of them so I offered to bring them here to bathe and eat their fills until the caretakers come and get them after dinner” (Name) replied.

“I see, that’s really kind of you”

“I’m not some spoiled little princess, I’m not afraid to get my hands dirty. I hope that you can understand that”

“Of course, I’m not here to demand you change for me, I’m here to learn more about you, if I have to get dirty along side you I will”

The next two weeks went a blur, Gajeel was getting his hands dirty. Wether it was tending to the animals, working with villagers to solve the problems they faced, tending to the farmers market, helping the orphanage. Gajeel was being pulled every which way durning his stay. He hardly had time to be alone. Gajeel was being treated much different then any other village or kingdom he stayed at, it was like he was stripped of his tittle and was a peasant. Gajeel didn’t mind not having a royal status, it made him much more approachable towards the people of the village.

It wasn’t until the last day when the king requested a grand audience with the villagers.

“Thank you all for coming, I’m here to announce that someone has finally pasted my courting trials for my Daughters hand at marriage. Tonight we celebrate the union of Princess (Name) and King Gajeel. Meaning our sweet Princess will be leaving us to join her future husband in her new home, the Kingdom Of Iron. Tonight we celebrate the honor of our Princess and all she’s done for the village. Please enjoy yourselves tonight!” The king spoke and started to party.

The following day both Gajeel and (Name) both left for the Iron Kingdom, they picked up slight conversions along the way.

“So I know taking you away from your village hurts you, so I made a very large donation to the orphanage, I always paid for it to be fixed up, I’ll be sending some of my best carpenters to the village to start the reconstruction” he spoke.

“Thank you Gajeel, those children deserve the world”

The car ride was quiet and quick, Gajeel was eager to show (Name) the castle, the gardens, his royal courts, her room.

Three months later the wedding happened. Gajeel was waiting eagerly at the alter, The Kings from the surrounding kingdoms were in attendance. Gajeel stood proudly, dressed in all royal blue, he had gold accents along the center of his jacket and he had also worn a sliver bet. The chapel doors opened up at the marching band began to play. The little flower girl walked down the aisle first before (Name), she wore a lovely white ballgown with sliver and diamond accents, the sleeves and the chest piece was covered in lace. Her veil was also lace, she reached the alter and Gajeel took her hand.

“Now we are gathered here today to Honor and Join these two in holy matrimony, the couple had written their own vows, King Gajeel If you will”

“I, King Gajeel. Vow to always make you happy, to make sure you never shed a tear. To love and honor you, to always be your Iron beam to lean on, I will always be there to lighten the load. I want you to know that I love you and I will always cherish my Queen. You will always be my first priority. I will never hurt your feelings or do anything that will harm you, I will never let you go to sleep without being told I love you”

“Gajeel that was lovely, Princess?”

“I, Princess (Name), promise to be the best queen and wife to you. I may not always understand the work you may do but I vow to help your work load, I vow to make your life easier. I vow to be someone you can talk to and be honest with. I vow to always love you, I’ll never stray from you” (Name) spoke.

“You May kiss your bride”

The two shared a sweet and simple kiss before separating and walking down the aisle.

That night the whole kingdom celebrated the marriage of the King and Queen. Once the happy couple was alone, they enjoyed each other’s company and consummated their wedding night.

#gajeel x reader #gajeel redfox #ft gajeel #black steel gajeel #fairy tail gajeel #fairy tail x reader #fairy tail laxus #ft laxus #laxusthelightning #laxus dreyar #fairy tail #kingdom au #writtenbylalaloverss #King Gajeel

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kpopisamood · 5 years

Text

Queen’s Clan { 10 }

Summary: y/n is plagued by nightmares. She realizes that the more she runs away, the less frequently they haunt her. However, in running away, she’s also running straight into her ultimate demise. Will she be saved in time by those who would lay down their lives for her, even if they don’t know of each other’s existence?

Monsta X/Reader, Human/Vampire(s), Reverse Harem

Warnings: future smut?, violence, language

Word count: 1.59k

Tag list: @noonaduck @lovinggalaxies @elenaramos1 @girlwith-thecinder-blockgarden

***

Miss Kudrow was pleasantly surprised when she graced everyone with her presence the following day. To hear your awakening process was excelling as well as accepting a Clan member and taking them as your own? Outstanding! She had made promises to your ancestors and immediate family that she would do anything to protect and help you provide for yourself and she felt somewhat like a proud maternity figure seeing you get through this trying time on your own.

If only she knew about the previous night and the incessant seducing antics the others had taken on. Hyunwoo had demanded you called him Shownu and since he was at that, Hoseok wouldn’t respond to anything you asked until you called him Wonho. Including leaving your room. You’d pretty much had a stare down to see who would cave first and go to bed and you’d lost horribly after two hours of awkward staring.

Then, this morning, wind of what you’d done last night had been through the whole house. It was like you had a big “HELP WANTED” sign plastered on your forehead and the others were doing everything they could to make you their Queen.

Except Changkyun. His sarcasm was actually refreshing so early in the day and him not being completely up your ass made him your new favorite next to Minhyuk. Min had kept to his promise so far and seemed to truly take your feelings into consideration. It’s almost like he sensed what you were feeling and how overwhelmed you were getting before you blew up. He’d try and make the others annoyed at him in order to take the focus off of you and you greatly appreciated it.

You even had a sigh of relief when Miss Kudrow stormed in, guns blazing, ready with another suitcase filled with...you guessed it, files on the Royals.

You had all gathered in the dining room again, class about to be in session when your space was invaded once more. Jooheon has mindlessly started massaging your hands, Wonho sat to your right, leaning against you gently and pouting slightly, asking for your attention and Shownu was talking softly to you, asking about how you slept and whatnot. Minhyuk and Changkyun joined the party last and took the furthest seats from your group. Min had felt the surge before you did it, but even so, it was still a shock to see you go from zero to one hundred. Miss Kudrow had a shit-eating grin as she took in the events about to unfold.

“Alright, that’s it! I’ve had it with this nonstop seducing/begging game. This isn’t some Bachelorette reality tv show! At this point, I’d take Changkyun as a part of my Clan before any of you guys!” You shouted, probably looking like a cartoon character with how red you were turning.

“Thanks, Trick. I’m flattered, really. But the last time I served under a Queen, I got fucked. In all ways that word represents.” Changkyun stated simply, looking through the files aimlessly and smirking at the Clans present.

“Wait, what?” You turned, heading straight for him.

“‘Kyun, be quiet.” Shownu ordered, a serious look taking over.

“No, tell me. You’ve all served under another Queen before and didn’t think to tell me?” You demanded, a slight pang of anger hitting you.

“It’s not like it matters now. Why would you need to know something like that?” Changkyun challenged, rolling his eyes dismissively but inside, his smirk deepened. The game has begun. You’ve already accepted one of his close friends, it’s only a matter of time before you accept them all.

Why did you need to know? And why does it bother you so much? You kept trying to logistically say that these guys were all saying you were this great Queen, but they’ve served under another “Great Queen” so how would you trust them? To be honest, a small part of you was flaring maybe five percent with jealousy but you’d never admit it.

Except you didn’t need to when the only member of your Clan could feel it. Min jumped in quickly, trying to save you the embarrassment of an explanation of any sort. You were a Royal and didn’t have to explain yourself to anyone ever. Definitely not for someone like Changkyun.

“Actually, Shownu, Jooheon, and Changkyun all served under a Queen at one time. Wonho and myself have remained celibate.” Minhyuk snitched shamelessly.

“As celibate as your fucking right hand.” Changkyun grumbled.

Jooheon spoke for the first time in awhile. “We served under a Queen before, yes. It nearly killed us, but we loved her very much. She did some...things to us and now we’re all here. I’m just gonna come out and say it,” Shownu shook his head, begging the younger one not to say more. “If we don’t find a new Clan, we’ll end up like those Shadows that attacked you last night. We were planning to head to another Queen or possibly a King who would take us when we felt your awakening process start and we thought you’d want us instead.”

“So, I’m second best?” Yes, you sounded childish but hell, if you had known these guys were just trying to serve you to protect their own skin, you might have thought this through more.

“No, you’re the only one who can save us.” Jooheon prodded.

“No pressure.” You muttered, standing up. “Look, I don’t know much about this whole Royals situation, but I’m not someone who is going to have a whole harem filled with men trying to please me just to save themselves. It’s not happening. I won’t take anyone who doesn’t truly wish to be here. Not because you need saving or anything like that, but because you truly want to stay and do this. Again, I’m new at this and have no idea how this whole Clan business needs to go, but I’m not going to force anyone to stay around out of fear for their lives.”

Changkyun clapped slowly. “Awesome speech, Muhammad Ali, now can we get this lesson on the road? We do have things to do today other than cater to you, ya know?” He knew he was pushing all the wrong buttons, or the right ones depending on who you asked. Regardless, his words brought a death glare from both you and Miss Kudrow.

Something clicked in Jooheon’s and Shownu’s heads then. This is something he’d do when he wanted his way. On the outside, they pretended to be just as shocked as everyone else at his antics, but on the inside, smirks ahoy.

“Why, you little—“ you ran at him, pinning him to the wall. Miss Kudrow’s eyes widened at your brute strength and eyed Minhyuk warily while he gave her a simple shrug. He couldn’t help that you were going to be a powerful Queen someday.

“I will kick your sarcastic ass into the next lifetime!” You threatened, pulling him up by his shirt collar.

The fucker laughed. Laughed. “Can you even reach it?” He asked, blowing into your face once and laughing at your expression. “I don’t think you can do shit to anyone. No one here does.” He signaled around the room, a smirk pulling at his lips.

Everything slowed down at once. No one breathed. Your eyes zeroed in on Changkyun’s neck and your pupils dilated immediately. You could faintly see the slight jumps his vein was taking under his skin and you could picture yourself taking him in more ways than one. Your throat started to feel dry and your mouth felt like it was filled with cotton.

“You’ll never be as good as our Queen was.” He pushed again. A series of “ASSHOLE!” And “CHANGYKUN!” Rang around the room before you’d had enough. A haze had filled your mind and you’d lunged for his neck, causing him to suck in a breath of trepidation and excitement. Your lips slowly made contact with his burning skin and the second your tongue laved against his pulse, he groaned out and wound one hand in your hair to keep you in place.

This was his plan from the get-go. But you’re not going to give in. Not like this. You slowly licked up and down at his pulse before grabbing his hand out of your hair and wrenching it behind his back, causing him to shout out. You leaned in once more to look at the tantalizing pulse before shaking your head and softly pecking it before dropping him completely and walking out, already seeking out your calming spot.

“Way to go, genius.” Minhyuk laughed as Changkyun sat on the floor, confused as all hell.

He was looking for someone to put him in his place and you had done that. Just not in the way he thought. He was sure his plan to have you bite him and lose it completely would work, but you’d been one step ahead.

Oh yeah, he definitely wanted to stay in your Clan.

#kpop #kpop fic #monsta x fic #monsta x x reader #monsta x x you #ot7 x reader #ot7 x you #kpop fanfic #monsta x #monsta x fanfic

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pagiecakewritesstuff · 5 years

Text

Taking away his pain (Arno Dorian x reader)

Just the basic Elise died and now Arno is very sad stuff, but I had to write my own version of it.

And requests are open, I guess...

MENTIONS OF SUICIDE AND DEPRESSION IN THIS PART.

You looked at the shouting crowd below, and then at him, standing at the edge of Notre Dame's tower without a haycart to cushion his fall. Down everybody noticed him already since he stood there for soo long not being able to decide whether he should take his life or not.

"Arno?" You tried to get his attention gently. The mission wasn't a secret anymore, every eye were on him. You could even catch a glimpse of templars down there. They were more than delighted to witness this event, which made your blood boil.

"Arno, please come here to me. You're going to fall." You pleaded, trying to stop your best friend's suicide attempt.

"Yes, I'm going to fall (y/n)." Answered Arno, his voice was shaky and broken. Really broken, your heart ached for him.

"There is no reason for you to do this."

"I have plenty of reasons." Finally, the man turned to you with glossy eyes. "Elise is dead, I'm not an assassin anymore. I was betrayed by the people close to me. Let the revolution go on without me..."

"No." The thought of losing your best friend frightened you. "I can help you, Arno. I will help you to get through this. I just need you to come here to me, back to safety."

"I'm going to jump." Arno looked at the streets below him, crowded with people.

"You don't have to..."

"But I will!" He shouted sobbing. "You can't help me, you can't take away this pain I feel!"

"But I can show you how to live with it."

"No." Arno stepped forward, you had to act quickly. There was no time to think. Grabbing his robes you pulled him back roughly. But he didn't give up. Arno thrashed around, trying to escape your hold. He was desperate to end his life.

"Calm down okay? Just calm down..." You whispered into his ear, while feeling his body ease, and start to tremble. Arno fell to the ground, bowing his head down, hiding his tears.

"It's alright now, I'm going to get you out of here." You kneeled beside him, embracing his shaking form gently. He buried his face into the crook of your neck. Arno hated being broken before you, and you knew that well. Only in his hardest times, he let you see his real sadness or pain. In this case both. Other than that he was always charming, funny, even a bit flirty sometimes, cracking bad jokes just to annoy the hell out of you when he was bored. But it seemed that the Arno you used to know died with Elise.

"Come!" You stood up, pulling him with you. "A priest is waiting at the door down there to escort us to our carriage." Arno nodded pulling his hood even more over his features, ashamed by his tears.

"Can you climb down?" Showing the small leap between the tower and the door to Arno you looked at him concerned.

"Yes." His voice was blank, empty.

"Just be careful, and don't do..."

"I'm not going to jump (y/n). You made more than sure of that.

"Alright go ahead, I want to see you." Quickly following him you watched his every step, only easing when both of you reached the door, where the priest impatiently waited.

"May I escort you out of the cathedral?" He looked at Arno strangely.

"Oui, merci." The three of you took the steps down, thanking everything to the priest again downstairs. The carriage was near, but you still had to go through the crowd.

"Heads down and try to blend." You ordered Arno. "The carriage is not too far."

Arno would tell you that he doesn't like it when others at his or below his rank give him orders, but he had nothing to say, after all, he wasn't the part of the creed anymore. The male assassin silently obeyed, in the meantime you scanned the crows with the help of your eagle vision, trying to identify templars.

Before Arno decided to jump there was a riot, so quite a few people gathered. Knowing that the council was already displeased enough you got to the carriage very fast.

"To the Café Theatre." You told the driver, giving him some money, that he took with a half-smile. He got waí more than he would've asked for. You took the seat next to Arno who was already sitting inside, waiting for you to pay. The male assassin's eyes were tired and full of thoughts.

"Your next mission is also about me?" He asked with a raspy voice.

"Yes." You admitted. "I clearly told the council that I know you better than any of our brothers, therefore if somebody has to be next to you I'll be it."

"Why do they even care if I kill myself or not?"

The horses came to a halt, stopping the carriage.

"I didn't ask, but I deeply care about you, you have to believe that. Come on."

The Theatre was filled with sweet smells, laughs, and guests. With very loud ones actually, singing revolutionary songs happily.

Arno looked at a kissing couple, longing.

"I shall take you upstairs." Holding his hand you basically dragged him after yourself into his room. "What about you have a bath while I make two cups of warm tea?"

Arno just nodded, lightly touching the letters from Elise, scattered around his table, with his fingertips, like he couldn't decide which one to read or should he even read any of them.

"Can you do the bathing part yourself?" You asked awkwardly.

"Yes (y/n), I'm not yet crippled."

The harsh remark took you aback a bit, he probably just wanted to be alone, a little time by himself might do some good.

"Alright then."Placing your hand on the doorknob you decided to leave the room. "I'll be back with that tea. Please don't do anything that you might regret later."

He didn't answer, just slowly headed to the bathroom, like nothing happened before, but his hollow eyes were out of focus. Looked like he wanted to disappear, far from Paris, far from France.

Realizing that he wouldn't speak to you, with a worried sigh, you left the room. After making the tea you hurried back, feeling a deep sense of fear about what state you'll find him in.

But he was alright, as alright he could be in the moment. Sitting at the edge of his bed he glanced at you, while you placed down two cups at the bedside table.

"You should leave." He stated blankly, eyes fixated on the tea. It took a moment for you to realize what he just said.

"I'm not going to leave you."

"I wasn't asking."

"What you told me is nonsense, I'm not..."

"Just leave already!" Arno shouted, tears brimming his eyes. He was clearly unwell, but what could you do? Nothing. As a highly skilled male assassin, he could throw you out by his two bare hands at any moment.

"If that's what you wish for." Slightly bowing your head you went trough the open door. The council must be impatient by now, you had to report what happened.

After two weeks you got no news from or about Arno. The council didn't know anything either, nor the other assassins. Checking on him would do no harm you decided, as you headed to the Café Theatre. A waitress came to your side at the moment you arrived.

"He is not well. " She whispered glancing around at the guests. "He forbid me to send somebody for you, bud he needs help. We worry about him greatly."

"Why he didn't let you ask for me?"

"He said that he doesn't need anybody's pity. But he can't handle his emotions, so I fear he'll attempt suicide again."

"I see what I can do." Running upstairs you saw that the tiny home was in chaos, broken furniture, torn clothes. Even tiny droplets of blood splattered around the floor.

"Arno?" Your voice was full of fear as you searched for the assassin.

"Leave!" He shouted from the bedroom.

"Look, I came to help, and I know..." That's when you saw him, sitting against the wall, in dirty, bloody clothes, his untied hair around his pale, sad face. His bloodshot eyes met yours.

"I want you to leave."

Only after the first wave of shock, you could answer.

"Absolutely no way!" Kneeling beside him you discovered cuts all along his arm. Some of them were fresh, some were almost healed, there were deep ones too. "You cut yourself?!"

Arno's only reaction was his pained expression.

"Let me heal you...." You pleaded. "Please..."

He gave you a barely visible nod.

"Can you stand?"

The male assassin didn't know what to say, he might be able to get on his feet but he wasn't sure.

"No."

You hauled him up and helped him sit on his bed then grabbing a seemingly clean cloth you pressed it on his cuts.

"Hold this there tightly, I'll grab some water to clean your wounds." Then as fast as you came you left the room.

Arno was actually relieved that you were with him. These two weeks were hell for him. He wanted to be alone but he also desired the company, somebody to hold him and tell him everything will be alright. Letting you help might make him weak in his own eyes but he couldn't live in this state anymore.

You stepped into the room with a bowl of water and some clean fabric.

"You don't have to do this." He muttered quietly.

"I'm your friend Arno." Watering the cloth you started to clean his cuts. Arno winched slightly, but he could manage his pain. "And because of that, I'll do everything to make you feel better."

"I don't deserve your care (y/n)..."

"Yes, you do."

"The Creed won't take me back anyway."

"I think they'll take you back, you are a valuable assassin, with great talent and experience. You just have to get back on your feet."

He buried his face into his hands trying to hide the fact that he was on the verge of crying.

"I'm a mess (y/n). I don't think I can ever be the same again."

"Youll never be the same." You ran your fingers through his messy hair, undoing the knots in it.

"Elises death will change you forever. But that doesn't mean you can never be happy anymore. Take your time, and the pain will ease."

"I can't do it alone." He leaned on you, burying his head into the crook of your neck. Your smell calmed him, it felt like home, fresh clothes, warm bread, but he could also notice the marks of the revolution, gun powder, medicine, and blood. All so familiar to him, Elise had the same aura, but she was less gentle. She didn't need to be, not with him.

"I'll be by your side."

"You promise?"

"I can even move here. The Café is big enough for us."

"Then stay."

"I will."

Weeks passed with the day being hard at first then slowly easing into peaceful, more happier ones. You saw Arno cry in your embrace, rage with boiling anger or just sit depressed by the window looking out to a Paris without Elise. He slowly started coping with her death, turning back to his duties as an assassin. For you, he seemed happier on the outside, but in the inside fear tortured his soul. He found himself discovering a new kind of love... for you. Elise was his first partner so his feelings for you seemed different. Guilt washed over him every time he looked at you. What would Elise say? He still loved her in a way but he had to let her go. She would want him to be happy. Right? Also, your kind of work made him nervous. You as an assassin could get hurt or die any day in this bloody revolution. Elise didn't get engaged in fights until she became a grandmaster. What if he can't protect you? He would surely end his life.

On the other hand, you started to like Arno not knowing that he felt the same. You gave no signs of your affection, after all, he was grieving. And this made him more insecure, you might reject him, he thought.

After days he grew quite stressed over his feelings. You noticed that.

His cheeks slightly reddened when you said something nice to him, he would fiddle with his fingers while talking to you and he became rather clumsy in your presence making a fool of himself on occasion like he concentrated on something else rather than his actual task. Until you decided you had enough.

One sunny afternoon you sat down by his desk where he worked himself through some letters. Assassin business mostly.

"Arno?"

"Yes (y/n)?" He neatly put away the paper he was reading, looking up to you.

"I'm concerned about your behavior. You acted... odd in these days. Is everything alright?" You asked watching closely his reaction. He instantly blushed like a lovesick schoolboy. Unbeknown to you he was indeed in love.

"I feel perfect if that's what you want to know."

"In this case I'm relieved. You started to get better..."

"There is actually one thing I wanted to talk about with you." He admitted nervously.

"Go on, we can talk about whatever you want." You smiled reassuringly.

"Do you think I can find new love?"

"Yes, that's totally possible."

"What would Elise say?"

Oh, so that was the problem.

"She would be alright with it."

"You sure?"

"Totally."

"Then I think the problem is with me."

"There is nothing wrong with you." You stated, maybe a bit too fast.

"You see there's this (man/woman), (he/she) is very nice but I'm afraid to confess my feelings for (him/her).

"What are you afraid of?"

"Losing (him/her) I guess..." There again he fiddled with his fingers nervously.

"Then you should speak to (him/her). Shoving away your feelings because of this... is not a life."

"You might be true."

"Who is the lucky one anyway?" Glancing at him you resisted to show any emotions. "If I may ask..."

Arno loudly gulped, forgetting to say something even."

"Arno?"

"Well..."

"You don't have to tell."

"(he/she) is sitting in front of me." He blurted out...

It took you a couple of seconds just to realize what he said.

"What?"

"It's you (y/n)."

"Me?"

"Forget it, I was foolish to..." But he couldn't finish as you quickly got up and pressed a light kiss into his mouth. He stared at you dumbfolded before a small smile tugged his lips upwards.

"Je t'aime Arno."

"Je t'aime (y/n)."

#assassin's creed #ac #ac unity #unity #arno #dorian #arno dorian #arno dorian x reader #x reader #ac x reader #angst #sad #you

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pazvizslaplasmathrower · 4 years

Text

Father of Hopes and Dreams -Chapter 10

Read here or on AO3!

Summary: Your young master is gone, just at the birth of your bond, he has left you for many years, leaving you to survive the galaxy alone. After sustaining an injury from a drunken storm trooper, someone faces the decision to either leave or help you in your moment of need.

Chapter Summary: A stranger finds you in someplace you do not belong and offers their help. The stranger seems to find the encounter a little unusual, not one to be forgotten. Unexpectedly, Paz runs into the infuriating Din Djarin.

A/N: Hope y’all like it! I love Paz so much asdfghjukl

Also my ask box is open for requests and prompts and all that

Word Count: 1896

The atmospheric duality of the planet was truly something, the sweltering heat of the day vanishing completely, the nearly frigid cold taking hold. Somehow the Armorer had crafted your clothing and armor, in such a fashion, neither heat or cold was a death sentence, the ill-prepared layman had no chance of survival. You had been that way not long ago. Perched atop a building in the center of the port city, you had a fantastic view of life down below. Speeders flew by, thieves laying in wait for the occasional, unsuspecting victim, crowds shifted by one another, not one seeming at comfort.

Your long ears perked up at the sound of vivacious music, ringing throughout the streets. The melody unlike anything you had heard before. Your master had sang many songs about Jedi and great Force authorities of old, great tales of discovery and reverence. In your opinion the best one were that of grand adventure, but your youthful master admonished you for that, saying that while those ballads may be wonderful, they were a bit less than humble.

This sound was unlike anything else, making you want to stand up and dance around like a fool. Instead, you stealthily snaked your way down the building, weaving in between civilians and visitors alike until you were standing outside the entrance of the massive cantina, debating if this was going to be worth the potential trouble. The last on you had been in was on Stewjon where that kriffing trooper decided to slash you open with a vibroblade.

Deciding the risks were minimal, you crouched behind a group entering, slipping past the guard unnoticed. Once inside, the music became drastically more erratic than sonorous, lights of numerous colors flashing, making your eyes sting. Patrons of many cultures danced around to the strong beat of the music, crashing into you without care. Overwhelmed by the assault on all your senses, it was only made worse when you felt a hot sensation against the shell of your ear.

“OoOOoH. What do we have here? I don't think I've s-”

When the perpetrator's hand laid on your arm, you sprang into action. At once, you seized the fiend's arm, dragging them forward with all your might, still hanging on, you bared your teeth and bit down hard. The drunk quarren let out a strangled scream, and you let go, allowing him to draw back his bleeding arm and clutch it to his chest.

“Ugh!” You retched. “That was foul!”

Noticing the stares starting to moved your way, you moved away, heading towards the bar which offered a decent spot to watch the musicians on stage. A small section of stools were unoccupied, so you knelt down to hide under the edge of the counter. Truthfully, it was difficult to focus on the music when the environment was so grossly overwhelming. Each note sent a wave through your body, making your head pound. The incessant chatter and screaming was so shrill, it took all the self control you had not to do something about it.

“Hey, kiddo. You alright there?”

Eyes that were once glued shut flew open, nervously seeing a pair of boots. Following them led to a stern man, hands settled on his hips. He was quite becoming for a human man, subtly sculpted features, a voice that had the potential to be friendly, and warm brown hair.

“What's a young kid like you doing in a place like this, huh?” He asked.

Too stunned to answer, you wondered if you would be able to make it through the dense crowds swiftly.

“Hey!” The man stated sharply. “Don't get any funny ideas, okay? Do you have a parent or guardian or something?”

The question threw you. A master who was missing? Yes. A Mandalorian warrior who was helping you find said master? Yes. Parent? No?

“Um. I-I don't know.”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose a second before offering you his hand. “I think I saw one like you outside, looked pretty worried. C'mon.”

You didn't want to. Only a fool would take the hand of a man they didn't know. At any moment he could try and attack. At this point in time, you were stronger and more focused than you had been in a long while. This was simply one human man, he could put up a fight, but surely you would be victorious if need be.

Nodding, you let the man help you to your feet and pull you through the dancers and those reveling in the sweet madness.

“The name's Solo.” He huffed, keeping his grip tight. “This ain't no place for a kid y'know?”

“Tch, Mr. Solo, you're not my father.”

Without warning, he turned on his heel, jerking you suddenly. “I know I'm not your father and don't call me that!”

Scowling, you fixed the man with a harsh glare. “I'll think about it, Mr. Solo.”

***___***___***

Clenching his fists, Paz regarded the man before him with begrudging respect.

“What brings you here, Din Djarin?” He asked coolly, softening a bit at seeing the baby sleeping in its carrier.

“I could ask you the same thing.” There was an abundant pause. “But I don't care.”

He had hardly said a thing and Djarin was already being such a kriffing bastard, if it were not for the baby, he would have walked over in two strides and given Din a piece of his mind. He was of course overly tense because the child in his care had run off. Maker, it better have been of their own volition or else Paz would start to lose his mind.

“I don't have time for your blatant disrespect. Answer me this, have you seen a young child running about? Mandalorian clothing....Humanoid...”

Din Djarin shifted uneasily. “What. Since when do you have a child?”

“That is not for you to know, I only asked if you had seen such a child.” Paz snapped, annoyed by the hint of venom in the other's voice.

The tiny, green baby wheezed awkwardly as his father took a few steps forward, moving into Paz Vizsla's personal space. At least he had the pleasure of being able to look down on Din, he having to crane his neck upwards.

“If it's my help you are trying to get my help, you're going about it the wrong kriffing way.”

By simply flexing his fingers, one could hear the small chorus of crackling coming through his gloves. Somewhere in this port, Y/N could be in danger and here he was being insulted by this son of a-

“There! There! That's him!”

“Hey! Calm down kid! You're gonna rip off my arm!”

Pushing Din Djarin aside, Paz could see from far off, young Y/N tugging the arm of a handsome, disgruntled looking man. He went forward to meet the child who excitedly jumped up and hugged him tightly.

“Found you!” They laughed, sharp teeth flashing.

The stranger sighed. “You didn't find em'. I did. You were the one hiding under the bar in the Cantina.”

“What?” Vizsla plucked the kid off of him, holding them up in the air. “You went inside a Cantina?! I thought I told you to hide someplace close and stay there until I was finished?”

From behind he could hear Din laugh quietly to himself, that kriffing idiot was probably jeering under his shiny, little helmet.

“Uh, well, I guess there are your fathers. I'll let you guys be.” The handsome man turned to leave.

“We're not'-!” It was no use, the stranger didn't care and kept walking until he vanished into the sea of people.

“Bye, Mr. Solo!” Y/N yelled.

Gently, Paz placed the kid on the ground, looking them over for any injuries, no matter how minimal they might be. Only a couple of scuffs here and there and tired eyes. He took a small med kit from a pouch, cleaning the scrapes making sure they would not get infected.

“What the hell were you thinking, A'dika?”

“You took forever!” They whined, their eyes distracted by something else. “I thought I'd just look around y'know?”

“No. I don't know” Paz pocketed the kit. “Maker, Y/N, would you look at me?”

The child blinked a few times before fixing their gaze on him. “You never told me there were even more!”

They gestured to Din who had the audacity to still be standing, observing something that did not involve him in the slightest...

“I didn't think you would be meeting him...much less so soon.” He growled.

Y/N shook their head, moving closer to Din against Paz's wishes. The other Mandalorian tensed, not liking them in his space, but he remained calm.

“That is Din Djarin, young one. He is a Mandalorian like me.”

They smiled, showing once again, those razor sharp teeth. “Kinda figured!” They shrugged. “Whoa, cool baby, mister.”

Din watched stiffly as Y/N offered the baby a finger which his son took. The eyes of Paz's child grew wide, what sort of strange greeting was this?

“Kark...” The older child breathed.

“Y/N, watch your tongue.” Paz stated flatly.

“Hey, he's like me!”

Both Mandalorians looked at one another, though neither of them could see the other's face, both could feel the same chilling anticipation.

***___***___***

Your guardian and his friend had made it safely back to the hangar of the ghoulish man, who luckily was fast asleep. Though no one could see him, you could definitely hear him. The uneasiness he gave you was greatly overshadowed by the excitement coursing through your body. Not only had you met a very unusual yet adorable baby, that baby happened to have a strong connection to the living Force. Not to mention you had met the third Mandalorian in your life. The man wasn't much for talking. The whole walk back you tried asking him questions about his little boy, to which he would simply grunt in reply. Not entirely useful, but perhaps he was just shy.

“So, Mr. Djarin, what kind of things can your baby do? Can he lift stuff? Without touching it of course. Can he levitate? Or make people-”

“Alright, A'dika.” Paz laid his hands on your shoulders moving you in front of him and away from his friend. “That's enough for one night. Go board the ship, I set up sleeping arrangements for you. Alright?”

“But I wanna talk to the baby!” You protested.

Hand on his hips, Paz stood between you and the little one who was pulling at one of the straps of his carrier. Your guardian moved to the closest wall, throwing a switch upwards, bringing dozens of fluorescent lights alive, but they were perhaps less than dim, casting only a soft glow. Under the light was a fair looking star ship, certainly not anything lavish, but not scrap metal either. A flagship of sorts, rather flat in design was parked with its bay door wide open, the thick outer durasteel, gray with a marks of deep, dark purple. You looked back at the others, locking eyes with the baby. You would see each other again. And if fate didn't allow for that to happen, you would make it so.

#sw #star wars #star wars series #star wars saga #the mandalorian #the mandolorian #the mandalorian imagine #the mandalorian fic #mando fic #fiction #fanfic #fic #paz fic #paz vizsla fic #paz vizla #paz vizsla #y/n #reader insert

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1stunseeliefaelass · 4 years

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Ale's Sidestory Part 6

To begin her quest of finding ways to make herself stronger for Death's sake, she began with her friend Aspen. Aspen was more than happy to aid Ale in this endeavor, even though she wasn't so sure about it. Given Ale's blindness was a massive disadvantage for her. But they continued with the training regardless. Ale's speed was helpful, in that it made sure Aspen could teach her to use it effectively in combat. As well teaching Ale how to manipulate the vines she uses to get around like living whips against attackers. In time however, Aspen realized that Ale can only learn so much from her. At least in terms of what she can use effectively. So Aspen approached her friend during one of their sessions,

"Ale, while I think you can learn much more. I fear I cannot teach you what may serve you best. Your speed can be greatly utilized through the Fae element of Wind. And it is an element I have precious little knowledge of."

"I thank you nonetheless Aspen, you've done all you can and then some. I'm glad to have you as a friend." Ale says warmly.

Aspen is calmed at this but tells her, "Unfortunately the only person I can think of that can teach you what you need....is Merlin."

"You mean the perverted young prodigy mage?" Ale asks confused by his mention.

"Yes. But he does fear my sister Nimue extensively, for good reason too. So I doubt he'll do anything too stupid while speaking with us." Aspen states.

"I see. Even so we best be careful then hmm? No telling what he may try, or what he may want in return for aiding me." Ale says simply.

Aspen nods at this and begins to use her power to link to plant life, granted to her via the magic of the Fae element Wood, to seek Merlin's location. She does eventually track him down after a lengthy amount of time, and decides to bring him to where she and Ale are. Merlin at first is highly annoyed and irked at being bothered this way. Anyone would be after being suddenly teleported to the home of a random person.

"HOW DARE YOU?! WHAT GIVES YOU THE RIGHT T-?!" Merlin starts before noticing the two female beings before him. His tone changes VERY quickly after this, "Oooooh my word....ahem...My apologizes fair ladies, I just wasn't expecting such a summons."

Aspen rolls her eyes as he stares at both her and Ale's chests, "If you'd be so kind as to stop ogling us, we have a request for you."

Hearing Aspen's words, Ale responds by quickly covering her chest. Not that it wasn't covered by her clothing.

"Ladies you wound me! I mean no harm by my stares, you're just gorgeous. What man wouldn't stare in admiration of your lovely features? But it seems you're the 'business before pleasure' types of women, not that it bothers me any. So what is it you want of me then?" Merlin says with a grandiose style tone.

"Aspen has been teaching how to fight, but can only teach me so much. She has suggested that you could teach me more, specifically magicks of the Fae element Wind. As my speed matches it well from what she says." Ale tells him simply.

"Oh I see. I suppose I can teach you all you wish to know about this powerful element. Although I'd very much like a reward for this help. Perhaps you might....?" Merlin says as he reaches to try and touch her.

Aspen sees where his hands going and whips his hand with a willow vine, "You'll not get away with such things here Merlin. My friend is blind so I will be watchful for her. I can also easily tell my dear sister Nimue of anything you do."

Merlin's eyes widen before he falls to his knees begging, "Please milady, don't tell your sister I'm here. I won't be a bother again I swear it! I'll even do this as a favor instead, one you can repay however you wish later on."

"Hmph, fine. But only because you promised not to do anything perverted to us. A promise I will hold you to endlessly." Aspen states.

From this awkward moment on, Merlin began teaching Ale all he could about the element of Wind. Leading her to many parts of the realm for teaching sake. This brought Ale to the point where she could travel faster with the currents, use wind to slide along surfaces like sand, glide after jumping for a brief time, to name just a few things she could accomplish now. This combined with Aspen's help gave Ale more confidence as a capable Mother, and thusly she dutifully kept at her work with Death. Aiding him wherever she possibly could. However, she did figure she could stand to know more things as time passed. This was around the time Death had gone on his 500 year hiatus, and decided to spend it at least partially, with his Mother. Seeking any comfort she may have for him, and to consider any advice she may give. Ale knew the destruction of the Nephilim race was far from easy or anything less than painful for Death to bring about. Thusly, she did her best to comfort him, and let time heal as many wounds as it could. During this time she asked advice from him as well,

"Atan, I know this may not be the best time to ask. But I've had some thoughts on bettering my knowledge of healing magic, among other things."

"It's fine Ceise. If anything, I'd help you if I could. But I don't know much healing magic myself. Only the barest bits of it. Although, you might find luck within The White City. They have a vast library, there's bound to something for you there." Death stated in a tired tone, as he'd been having trouble sleeping.

"Thank you Atan, I shall keep this in mind. But for now, I shall focus on you. Have you already eaten this morning?" Ale asked as she brushed a bit of his hair aside gently.

"I've thought about it but...." Death began to say.

"Atan, I know you're not in your best state. But not eating anything won't help. You'll just shrivel away even more." Ale told him sounding concerned.

"I'll be fine Ceise. One missed meal won't kill me."

"What about several missed meals? I may not be capable of sight Atan, but I can still tell when you've eaten or not. I'll get breakfast started, and I expect you eat at least something." Ale stated with a firm but gentle tone.

Death sighed at this, and finally relented. Though he truly desired nothing more than to lock himself away. As unproductive and pointless as it was. He did eat as Ale asked, not wanting to worry his Mother so much. He then fell asleep shortly after finishing the meal. The vines let Ale know this much, and so she placed a light blanket over him for this nap. She'd have placed him in bed, had she not been worried he'd lock himself in his room again. That and she wasn't so confident in her physical strength. From there, she kept her ears perked for any sounds that indicated him waking up or him having nightmares.

#Darksiders #Darksiders Fandom #Darksiders Fanfic #OCs #Death #Adult...ish Content #Ale's Sidestory

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greencrusader13 · 5 years

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All Were Innocent Once: Chapter 8 - Coruscant Sunset

Finally! It’s done, just like I said it would be. Thank you to everyone who waited so patiently for this next chapter. Hopefully the next one won’t take nearly as long.

If you like this fic please like and reblog it! Feedback is greatly appreciated as well.

You can read here, FF.net, or AO3.

“Master Shan,” Greylam called, hurrying down the steps of the Jedi Temple. The hem of his robes threatened to trip him mid-gait, and Greylam remained mindful of them as he tried closing the distance between Satele Shan and himself. The senior Jedi was still several paces ahead of him, but she’d stopped and turned at his call. Her expression remained calm, serene, not even curious in the least. Ahead a Republic transport craft waited for her along with a handful of soldiers Greylam presumed she’d been assigned.

Another Jedi off to war. Unlike most others, though, Satele Shan had already distinguished herself as a capable warrior. She’d been on Korriban when the war first started, survived it. She was the sort of hero the Republic wished to follow, as did he. Restraint possessed wisdom of its own, but not when it turned into sloth. He did no good sitting around the temple, not when Greylam knew what he himself was capable of. Perhaps Satele would see it as well.

It was not a decision he’d reached arbitrarily. Each day since hearing of Master Paddoq’s fall he’d meditated on the wisdom of joining the war himself. The idea gnawed at his mind, seizing thoughts normally dedicated to studies and quiet reflection. His nights had been filled with tossing and turning and thinking, pondering. He knew pride was yet another path to the dark side of the Force, especially when viewing oneself with an overinflated sense of self, and he’d made sure that he wasn’t pursuing this out of a misplaced ego. He just wanted to help.

Greylam slowed to a stop ahead of her, panting. He hadn’t thought himself running all that quickly, and yet he found himself out of breath as he reached her. Although he’d recited his appeal within his head on repeat since leaving the library, something about her presence now cowed him into forgetting it entirely. Satele Shan was not an imposing Jedi, far from it in fact. Her blue eyes held a distinct calm obtained from years of training within the Jedi Order. She’d fixed him with an expression of muted concern, her lips pursed as though to tell him everything he thought she’d say without any words.

Still, even under her gaze, Greylam straightened himself and bowed. “Master Shan,” he repeated, meeting her eyes again. It took all the conviction he possessed to keep himself from crumbling under her presence. “I hear that you are heading for the battlefront. Is it true?”

“It is,” she replied. Satele then cocked an eyebrow. “But I’m guessing you did not run all this way just to ask me something you already know, are you?”

“Master Shan, I would humbly petition that you allow me to accompany you wherever you are heading.”

As he spoke Satele Shan turned and waved to her charge of Republic soldiers lingering by the shuttle. Their commander – his face obscured by a helmet, Republic standard issue – nodded and signaled his contingent to board. Greylam watched them file into the ship with a lackadaisical pace, far less regimented and orderly than what he’d expected. Yet their commander didn’t bark orders at them, didn’t press. Perhaps having a Jedi with them shifted their perspective of the mission.

After the soldiers had boarded Satele lowered herself to a knee, meeting Greylam at eye-level. This time he did not look away. “Greylam, war is no place for children. I couldn’t bring you out there in good conscience, not knowing that you could get hurt or killed.”

There is no death; there is the Force. “But Master Shan-”

“You humble me, Greylam, but I am no Jedi Master. You can just call me Satele.”

“Satele,” Greylam repeated hesitantly. Her name felt weird in his mouth, and he almost regretted addressing her without her due respect. “I don’t understand. We’re taught that our only limits are what the Force allows. My age shouldn’t diminish how I could aid the Republic. I do not presume my own abilities, and I know I have much to learn, but I want…”

His voice trailed off at that word: want. He wasn’t supposed to want anything. It was unbecoming of a Jedi to want, to allow his own emotions to get in the way of the Order’s wisdom. As he realized this he felt a pang of regret, which he then dismissed with a deep breath.

“I understand what you want Greylam, but all things come in time. Your place is here at the temple. It’s what Master Paddoq would’ve wanted for you as well, no?”

The thought of his old master stirred pain within him. When he’d heard that Paddoq and the rest of the garrison fell it had taken all the meditations he knew to prevent grief from overwhelming him. Even now the loss hurt, although he knew that it was another thing he had to let go. Paddoq was with the Force now. There was comfort in that. No death. It was not all right that some part of him still grieved.

“It was. I apologize for my brashness. I should’ve taken more time to consider the wisdom in staying,” Greylam said, bowing. “My purpose is wherever the Force guides me. I’ll not try to compel it to my own desires.”

“You are still young Greylam,” Satele said. Her faced warmed a little, a small smile forming at the edge of her lips. “There’s much you’ve yet to learn about being a Jedi, and many of these lessons cannot be taught in books. Calm yourself; there’s nothing out beyond the Temple that requires your diligence.

“Perhaps if you’re looking for some way to occupy yourself you could seek out Master Yuon Par. I happen to know that she is always looking for some aid on her archaeology projects.”

The offer intrigued him. He’d heard of Yuon Par and her exploits with the history of the Order, read about them, but he’d never met her. Archaeology happened to be one of the subjects he’d taken a liking to reading during his many hours in the library. “I’ll do that,” he said, turning around to head back to the Jedi Temple.

“Greylam?” Satele called, a note of confusion audible in her tone.

He stopped. “Yes?”

Satele Shan’s expression tempered as he looked back at her. “Things will work out eventually. Trust in the Force, and may it be with you.”

“May the Force be with you too.”

Greylam didn’t remain for the departure of her shuttle, only hearing it depart behind him as he made his way up the steps towards the central ziggurat. A gust of warm wind rippled his robes, and for a moment he hesitated. Glancing back, Greylam watched as the ship became silhouetted against the gold-orange hue of Coruscant’s sun before disappearing altogether.

Night had fully set by the time Greylam reached the archives, and few Jedi remained in its halls. His steps echoed faintly off the marble floor as he made his way down the rows. A stray initiate or two sat at spaces along the table at the repository’s center, their weary eyes struggling to focus on the texts in front of them. A nearby Nautolan girl hadn’t even managed that. Her face remained pressed down against the holopad before her. She snored, and on occasion an initiate would shoot her an annoyed glance.

Greylam had always loved the archives. He’d spent more than his fair share of time there, and if he was lucky he’d spend all the much more. If the Temple Spire was the heart of the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, then the archives were its mind. The space was filled with the faint glow of blue light emanating from the infinite number of texts on shelves around the rotunda. Each of the four wings held different texts, different mysteries. Sometimes searching for them was worth more than what he’d gleamed from the texts at all. From the balconies on the second floor he could look down and watch those in pursuit of knowledge peruse the rows for it. Behind the railings cone-shaped windows would pour natural light into the chamber on clear days. It felt paradoxically open and closed; a world of endless knowledge on an impossible scale so neatly and organically fit within the ziggurat.

Greylam braced himself along the balcony. No one matching Yuon Par’s description remained in the library. She’d likely retired for the night, as was common sense. He couldn’t help but feel mildly disappointed. Although it was late, Greylam could still feel his mind racing, stirring, thinking. If he tried to fall asleep now he’d be up for several more hours, that much Greylam knew.

I’m already here, he thought, shrugging to himself. I might as well brush up on the topics Yuon Par will want to cover with me. He scanned the chamber again. From his vantage point he could not see the Chief Librarian, but several analysis droids clanked below as they clumsily moved about the shelves. Perhaps with a quick look he could find what texts she’d browsed recently.

“Come on, you shouldn’t stay up anymore,” a young voice said behind him.

It’s not that late, Greylam thought, then paused. He turned, confused, only to find that the speaker wasn’t speaking to him at all. A Zabrak male roughly around his own age sat crouched by the window across a similarly aged Cathar, the latter of whom’s head remained planted against his knees in a seated fetal position. At the Zabrak’s continued urging the Cathar only shook his head and pulled himself tighter. The fur around his eyes was damp, ruffled from being rubbed at repeatedly. Greylam couldn’t help but feel taken aback. Was he really…crying? Had he no control over his emotions?

The Zabrak glanced over and noticed Greylam staring mutely. “Could you give me some help? Please? Tyar isn’t going to sleep.”

“I don’t wanna,” the Cathar – Tyar – mumbled through his folded arms.

Greylam looked over the boys again. Not long ago he had overheard Master Nomris mentioning that the Order had found two more potential initiates, one from Nar Shaddaa and another a rescued slave. Red rings of chaffed dry skin marked the Zabrak boy’s neck and wrists. “You must be the slave Master Din liberated from the Sith,” Greylam said.

Concern flashed in the boy’s amber eyes, and he stopped his approach. “How did you know that?” Before Greylam could explain his deduction the Zabrak boy touched at his neck and glanced away in shame. It was an odd response, one that he hadn’t expected.

“There’s nothing you need to feel ashamed of,” Greylam replied. “Nobody will think less of you for it. Looking down on others for their background is not the Jedi way, and slavery is an injustice the Republic does not tolerate. I hope they treat you with kindness.” It seemed like something Master Paddoq would’ve said, and Greylam hoped he’d emulated him well.

The boy smiled meekly. Perhaps it was the right thing to say.

“I don’t want to be here,” Tyar moaned as he pressed his weight harder against the glass. “Eonur I want to go home. I want my brother.” He sniffled again before exhaling sharply. Fog formed on the glass inches from his mouth, and Tyar drew a line through it with his finger.

Greylam crouched down to the Cathar boy, who looked up at him with big red eyes. “What you’re feeling right now is just from being in a new place that’s very different for you. It’s not a rational one. As Jedi we need to learn how to control our emotions instead of letting them control us. Does that make sense? If you calm them you might find you like it here.”

Tyar shook his head and looked up at him with large red eyes. “I don’t want to like it here! I just want Dad and Cirak.”

He had once heard from Master Paddoq that some Jedi were like pottery. Some needed more time on the wheel with gentle hands to give them more shape. Others needed time to cool after being in the kiln. Patience and a guiding hand would eventually yield a beautiful creation, regardless of what step you started with. Looking over these two new initiates it was clear that Greylam had lumps of clay.

“Let’s just try a breathing exercise. Eonur I’d like you to try this as well.” Once the Zabrak boy had joined them, Greylam kneeled down on both knees in front of Tyar. The Cathar boy turned in his seat, but did not loose the tension in his posture. “First, we breathe in.” Greylam demonstrated, inhaling slowly through his nose while guiding his right hand up in motion with the breath. Eonur copied him from Greylam’s peripheral. “Then, we just breathe out the same way.” He exhaled from his mouth, letting his hand fall at the same pace down the length of his chest.

Tyar’s first breath was rough, coarse and still embroiled in unchecked fear and anguish. When he exhaled the release of air was more like a huff than a meditative technique, but Greylam saw his shoulders relax all the same. Greylam repeated the technique. Soon Tyar’s chest rose and fell at a normal rhythm, and the crying stopped.

“Are you calm?”

The boy rubbed at his eyes. “I just really miss home.”

He needs something else to think about, Greylam thought. There were hundreds of thousands of texts here in the library, but Tyar did not appear to be in a studious state, and they were unlikely to provide any peace for him. He needed something tranquil that did not require any active focus.

“Would you like to see my favorite place in the entire temple?” Greylam asked.

A hopeful light sparkled in Tyar’s eyes, and he nodded fervently. Greylam offered his hand and helped the boy up as Eonur watched. Tyar’s grip remained firm in Greylam’s even after reaching his feet, and although he wasn’t much smaller than him Tyar still held his hand with the same sort of craving for protection a child would seek from their parent. Greylam wanted to wriggle his hand free, but he could not. The boy would have an emotional reaction again if he did.

Once they were out of the archives Eonur quickened his pace up to Greylam’s side. After a few moments of decided silence he spoke. “Thank you. He was fine for most of the day, but it’s like once it started getting later he started getting really sad, and I couldn’t do anything.”

“It was nothing really,” Greylam replied. “All I did was show him a rudimentary breathing technique for relaxation.”

“Well it worked. Even I felt calmer afterwards, and I wasn’t even the one you were trying to help.”

Greylam struggled to think of an appropriate Jedi teaching or saying to repeat back to him. He had received many over his years at the temple, but in the moment they seemed to vanish from his mind. It would’ve just confused him anyhow. Greylam instead opted for the simpler response. “You are welcome.”

The gardens were empty when the three arrived, much to Greylam’s relief. The smell of fresh greenery rushed into his nose, amplified by the cool humidity from the small streams running over rock formation that misted on contact. Once again, he felt serene, and all remaining thoughts of following Satele Shan to war vanished from his mind. Beside him he heard Tyar and Eonur gasp in awe.

“I didn’t know there was this much green in the whole galaxy,” Eonur muttered.

“Me neither.”

“This place is wonderful for quiet reflection and study. You can truly feel the Force at work within the garden,” Greylam said. He took a seat cross-legged on a knoll across from a still pond and closed his eyes. “I often come here to practice my meditations and-”

“There’s fish!”

Greylam opened a single eye. The boys had rushed over to the water’s edge and were now peering over it, pointing at the swimming creatures beneath the pond’s surface. They were laughing, reveling, but calm. He could feel that peace through the Force.

They were new, and had much to learn. As he reached out to the Force in quiet meditation, Greylam thought back to Master Paddoq’s instruction and guidance, that making friends would help him become a better Jedi, that there was good in friendship. Perhaps this is what he meant. He would teach them. They would be his friends.

#all were innocent once #swtor #swtor fanfiction #my swtor #my writing #fanfiction #fanfic #AO3 fanfic #ao3 #ff.net #greylam cormat #eonur bogra #tyar kiht

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elhoimleafar · 5 years

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The devil of witchcraft in the Amazonas. #Lucifer #Satanas

Unlike many other similar posts that you may have read on the internet before, if you already know my work as a writer and blogger, you know that I do not summarize what others write, there are others writing about it, I prefer to focus on writing about what I know, and that implies (most of the time) that many other authors and writers are going to completely disagree with me, but that's what my blog has always been about, writing from my perspective and experience, even when this It sounds a bit arrogant on my part, but I think the diversity of views is important in these issues.

Already after rambling a bit to introduce you to the topic (something silly but necessary), now to return here to the topic we came to, several months ago I posted a very silly phrase on my twitter account due to an entirely personal situation, the tweet read the following:

“In my culture, we do not venerate the devil and in my family, we never discuss if it exists or not, but if he goes around I think he owes me a couple of favors 🤔 where are my devil?”.

And as expected, he receives more questions and doubts than he expected, and it is understandable, in this modern hodgepodge of witchcraft / Wicca / paganism, where everything seems to enter but nothing can come out, and everything ends up transforming into something much in there. more ethnic and weird, and that really doesn't bother me at all, this only seems to piss off some 'pseudo-keyboard activists' who fight “at heart” against something they call cultural appropriation.

The topic to be discussed here is about the devil's belief in witchcraft, although I recognize that I am not the most qualified to talk about the subject, I am sure that this will help as support material for others in the future, at least as a reference, Maybe because of my origin and ethnicity.

The devil, this charismatic, eccentric, witty and vivacious Christian folklore character who seems to earnestly gain more followers than his apparent creator and father, is today (and perhaps always has been, I don't know that) one of the most common characters in folklore linked to witchcraft and magic.

Something that I understand, admire and respect greatly, is that many modern wizards and pagans come from the Catholic religion, and many of them for that reason tend to include the belief in this 'malevolent' character as part of their practice, which although not It seems to correspond to them, in a way it has been linked to the witches since the time of the persecution, if my mother said "it is totally absurd to persecute someone for venerating something they do not believe", I also understand that persecutors of witches accused them of venerating the devil for being what they identified with evil, especially because certain verses of the Old Testament promote the taking of immoral actions against witches, which he repeatedly calls " Demon lovers. ”

Perhaps for practitioners of black magic and other forms of dark arts, I am referring here to true practitioners who perform rituals and invocations, not those who read hundreds of books and do not practice anything (usually they know much less than they believe ), these in their practice venerate the figure of evil in the form of the devil, and the few that I have known in my personal life, assure me that they believe in the devil and venerate him in different ways, not publicly (or attending any church), and they claim to receive huge favors, benefits, and powers from this character.

Now, in my case and from my point of view, the first time I remember hearing that word "devil", I remember that I was 10 years old, I was waiting for my mother outside of school, she arrived entirely dressed in white, because she was at that time living her stage of 'iyaworaje' as a follower of Santería, and I clearly remember that Professor Lucía Ramírez, commented to another of the representatives “oh yes, that is the lady who is diabolic”, I I kept quiet and when I got in the car, I asked my Mom, she only replied “oh, the devil is the one to blame for everything”, she has always been very crude to answer about these types of issues, not telling me nothing else, I waited until I got home and asked the same question to my sisters, one of them 'Neyiber' replied that the devil was a kind of dark god that “certain people” revere and others are afraid of, and every time someone does something wrong, or something bad happens and the reasons are not understood, they simply blame him.

I continued with the doubt for some time, perhaps because I have never been very sociable, especially in school so I did not ask anyone, on the contrary, I waited until I got some books and a dictionary to inform me about the subject, and although with the passing of I have continued to have many doubts about this, at least I have informed myself much more and a broader view on the subject.

"There are no devils in witchcraft and magic" ...

So says an old saying that many preach and I believe in him, but I understand that this is a matter of perspective that plays with the beliefs of the origin of each individual, some believe that the devil is the one who gives his powers to the witches, others think that he works directly with the witches who seek to do evil, and not with other witches, the Wiccans see it as something alien to their practice, pagan wizards mostly refuse to believe in it, I personally see it as one of many myth-surviving gods, as a kind of dark god, a trickster like Loki, and from what I have read I understand that he was a beautiful and wise angel of light who was in a way, punished for believing himself as great as his creator, I see him as a representation of rebellion and freedom, an archetype of the rebellious and tempting god that you can find in all myths, and obviously an ingenious master of sorcery.

My experience in the Amazon.

If you have the opportunity to visit the Amazon, and if you can visit the Wayuu and Caribbean tribes, you will understand that the devil is a belief entirely alien to them, they do not understand it for different reasons, mostly because the beliefs of origin teach them that gods are unequivocally flat, the gods of light only give children of light and the gods and dark spirits only bring darkness, but it is difficult for them to understand that a god of light has a perfect child and it is revealed.

Most of the Amazonian folklore is recorded in old books that are contained in the national public library of Venezuela, and which, unfortunately, on issues of Economy and Government, have not had the opportunity to be digitized, so what many of us know, We know really very little, in the vicinity of the Orinoco River some healers of the old school call it “awujii” (the one that was brought), referring to the Amazonian legend that tells the arrival of some clouds over the blue sea, and in whose clouds full of iron men came a spirit of redemption and light, and a dark spirit that would bring misfortunes, temptations and death to the tribes.

For them clearly the devil is something completely alien to their faith, but if you visit those aboriginal peoples that survive in the vicinity of the border with Colombia, where the Catholic faith has mixed and diversified with the native pagan faith, where the Cults of the different gods, the devil is known as "the pinzao" a horrendous demon with burned skin, four eyes without pupils on the face and bat wings, the size of a dog that moves among the trees and deceives the who get lost at night, take the form of the deceased and give sweet gifts to children and treasures to adult men and women in exchange for serving them for life, these men, women, and children who fall under their influence become sorcerers who fly at night and transform into all kinds of animals, and this character "the pinzao" can possess their bodies to walk in the human world and have sex.

Now, the indigenous indigenous groups of the Yaracuy state, the caquetíos, gayones and jiraxaras, see the devil as an annoying "pixie" that grants all kinds of wishes in exchange for granting him three favors, one at dawn, one at sunset and one at midnight, that pixie seems to have many names for them, but they all clearly describe him always with the same characteristics, a dwarf man with very dark purple skin, pointed ears, always naked and with six fingers on each hand.

In the Amazonian folklore there is also the figure of “Aworie”, described with all the characteristics of a faun, a bearded man of short stature with animal legs and horns on his head, this character “Aworie” has an iron crown around of his horns which he decorates with precious stones, he is the king of the women who leave the tribe to not marry and he, grants them powers and gifts, these women then do not age and do not know the disease, can see at night and speak The tongue of all animals, these women give birth to the children of Aworie every eight moons and these children, who look like men with horns, have powers to cause disease and call thunderstorms.

Now, although I usually mention having worked with the magic books of the old school "the grimoire of Solomon", "the book of St. Cyprian" and similar ones where they always mention the character, I have never worked with him and never I have had the need to do it, clearly that is not my way, but I invite you to answer below if you have any personal experience or anecdote about it.

Hugs and lots of light...

#devil #devils #lucifer #satanas #amazonía #amazonas #tribe #native #magic #magick #wicca #wiccan #pagan #pagans #paganism #witches #witches of tumblr #wiccans of tumblr #pagans of tumblr

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ofchasse · 6 years

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Jailbreak // Chatzy Log

Them rescuing supernaturals, including Shilo and James. Too lazy to properly edit.

Erica

Erica just considered themselves lucky that none of the guards likely had supernatural senses -- that they were all human -- or else the small group of them gathered in the woods close enough to see the spotlights would've meant the end of the line very quickly. She's looking to Stiles' brother -- Stuart ( she still wasn't used to seeing Stiles' features on a much more stoic face ) -- who was hovering over a small tablet in his hand, the glow of it illuminating his features. "What's the plan, bossman?" she's asking him in a whisper with the hint of a smirk -- Stuart looking to her with a fleeting look of what seemed to be confusion and bemusement before back to his tablet, "What? You're the one with the brain full of computer shit -- your ballgame, right?"

She's looking to the doorway, flickering her gaze over it before back to the others where Marco was lingering in the back -- closest to Blake -- with his eyes seemingly glued without moving to the building.

Stuart

Stuart huffs out a low breath at the blonde, a finger sliding over the screen, "Sinon sent me blueprints of the complex," he's murmuring, "We can't just rush in there without a clue of where we are going. We're getting all of them out, if we can help it, and it won't do anyone any good to just start mass chaos. We need a plan of action -- I'm looking for the control room; Allison and I --" he looks to the huntress before back to his tablet, "Will go there. Shut down the alarms, and spring the cells. Blake and Marco will find Marco's sister -- on record, she seems to be the only banshee in this facility; and -- according to Lydia and Tabitha -- she's more likely than not going to be out of it --" Which was a nicer way to say half catatonic. With the collar preventing her from screaming, the voices likely caused her to shut herself out in defense. "So Marco and Blake will carry her out if needed; and look for .. James, right?" he looks to Blake then before back down to the tablet, flipping through names, "Shifters are on another hallway -- Shilo seems to be on the laboratory hallway, which has less security --" Stuart knew this by experience, but he seemed to be outwardly coping well with the reminders.

"And then Erica will play sheepdog ; the supernaturals in that building, once out, will be confused and panicked. They need guidance to get out of the building and to Satomi and her group."

Allison

If she hadn't already been in 'ready to go' mode, then Allison would have laughed at the way that Stuart seemed both annoyed and perplexed with being put in charge. Erica was right, though - he was the one with the plan that they needed to get in there and get out safely. Hopefully. She's focused on the door and the area around them, gun held in her hand like a vice that she couldn't give up. She'd considered her bow for the silence it provided, but an arrow wouldn't win in a gun-fight.

When he speaks about the building, she looks to him, eyes tracing his features for signs of distress. It hadn't been that long ago that they'd been breaking him out of here - not even long enough for both of their wounds to fully heal. He seems okay for now, but Allison feared that he might break down at some point.

Blake

It's good for Blake that they decided to stick her and Marco on Shilo duty together - she wasn't sure that she could get in there and out alive if she didn't have someone to keep her feet under her. If she wasn't able to find James - or worse, found him in less than the state she wanted to find him in - she wasn't sure she could recover from that. But it wasn't just James that she was there for. She had others to take care of, and it included Marco and Shilo. They both needed to be safe before she could lose it, if they didn't find James.

Her posture shifted, stiffened, as Stuart spoke. She nodded just slightly when he looked to her, confirming that he had James' name right. Stress seemed to radiate from her body, heart already racing despite the fact that they hadn't quite gone into the eye of the storm yet.

Marco: Marco felt strangely on the outside of it all ; he was here for Shilo, it was merely just luck that there happened to be so many supernaturals inside. Yes, of course he wanted to help them all get free -- he felt selfish in the matter, however, that his first priority was Shilo. And then everyone else. Albeit, he kept that to himself. Outwardly, he was sure the ones with heightened senses could smell his anxiety ; his fear. Marco had only shifted once, and it was when he had had his collar removed by Lydia ; Satomi and Deaton in the room for safety, and the older Alpha had had to calm the man down -- bring him down from his shift. He didn't quite yet know what he was capable of, and the senses outside of the enclosed underground was nearly overwhelming -- darkened gaze on the main doors where one man stood armed. I think that I know him -- he mused bitterly to himself, before he was saying as much aloud, "I know .. the man. The one who is standing guard," he's whispering under his breath, Erica and Stuart's focus now on him, "I had served with him overseas. He was in my troop, for a time --..." Marco is frowning and Stuart is lowering his tablet just a little.

The alpha shakes his head, "I will take care of him - one way or another. I will go up - alone - and talk to him. See if I can get him to stand down. And if I cannot...-" He trailed off and gave a meek shrug of one shoulder. "He will not stand in the way of all of the innocent supernaturals inside. When he is down, we need in quickly."

Erica

Part of her - as her gaze catches the weapon in Allison's hand - wanted to comment on it. Wanted to comment on the lines that used to be drawn between them and the chasm that had been built between werewolf and huntress while they were in high school. However, Erica was not the teenager she had been when her live had been robbed of her. What she went through with the Dread Doctors, and her life she lead in Nevada with The Phoenix Tail rebellion, Erica had changed. Allison was not her enemy, and she knew this, and she would not cling to petty grudges that were more than half a decade old. So, she purses her lips and cuts her gaze away from Allison to Marco as he speaks before looking to the man in question ; eyes illuminating a soft gold color before it flushed itself out.

"Which way am I going, geek monkey?" she asks Stuart, eyes still on the man as if she was making sure they were not heard.

Stuart

Stuart watches Marco for a long moment ; it wasn't that he did not trust the alpha -- he did, everything matched up -- it was that human emotions were messy, and Marco looked troubled. Albeit, family bond -- blood or not -- was a powerful thing, sometimes more powerful even than the supernatural, so he let it go; deciding to trust that Marco would do what he needed to do when faced with someone who stood in the way of his sister. His lips noticeably thin in the light of his tablet before he's looking down at it ; he seems to be, for the moment, avoiding Allison's gaze as Allison was likely the only one who knew how effected he might be -- and, in that moment, he truly just needed to focus.

"Second floor, Erica, is where the shifters are kept. Lead them out the back entrance once Allison and I spring them, then double back to the third floor -- there are a few vampires and two witches there." The blonde merely nods in response.

"Marco and Blake - the lab is on the first floor, two rights in the hallway. James is on the floor with the shifters, right above your head -- " he taps a small radio at his hip before gesturing to one Erica held, "Erica, if you see James, contact Marco and Blake and try and send him downstairs to them. We all have to go under the assumption that all of these supernatural are handicap. But, even without their abilities, they greatly out number the guards and scientists inside as long as they are out of their cells -- if a fight does break out."

Allison

Allison wasn't entirely certain how she felt about Marco yet - the alpha was so new to his abilities that she wasn't sure she would trust him to go in but they hadn't much other choice. It was because of him looking for his sister that they'd found all the other supernaturals in there - that they had a chance of getting them out and to safety. Still -that didn't mean that she trusted him to keep his cool. Though she wanted to speak up when he said he would take care of the one at the door, she remained silent. He had been in the military, maybe he had it in him.

She continues to remain silent as Stuart avoids her gaze, listening as he doles out instructions in a way that proved that he was the right one to look to for direction in this. Anxious to get going, Allison checks her gun one last time before her gaze is back on Stuart - waiting.

Blake

Blake almost wanted to protest when Marco spoke - but not for the same reason that anyone else might. She wasn't sure she could watch him kill someone, having to see that last bit of her childhood spill blood in a true confirmation of how damaged her life had become. Ultimately, it wasn't her place to speak against his wishes, and she remained begrudgingly silent, eyes moving to him as though to confirm whether or not he truly was okay with what he was offering to do. He'd not just be killing anyone in his way, he'd be killing a friend - because she was not naive enough to believe that the man would stand aside for them.

Stuart pulled her gaze from Marco, gaze going to him and then to Erica. "Tall, blonde. Basically the male version of me." She told Erica, to confirm that the other knew what she was looking for - but it wouldn't have to be hard. Werefoxes were few and far between, and they smelled different to wolves. It killed her that she couldn't go look for him herself, but she knew that Marco needed her help.

Marco

Marco falls quiet for the moment -- to let the others weigh in on what he said -- but when no one seemed to outwardly depute him, he made the decision that he would do what needed to be done -- regardless of the fact that this man ( Richard Falls, Staff Sergeant ) had been his friend at the time. He lets everyone else finish up speaking, handing his own radio to Blake for the moment -- as each group had just one -- before standing to his feet once everything was settled.

He knew that there were enough shifters -- Erica and Blake -- with them for them to eavesdrop just in case something did happen. In case he did lose control ; or in case Richard was not the only one up there. Erica seems to be giving him a cautious glance as he was taking the long way ( notably to Stuart, which meant he seemed to be trying to not give away their position ) before approaching the man -- palms up to show he was unarmed. ( Not that it truly mattered, with what he was, but Richard likely didn't know this yet. )

Erica

Erica laughs slightly -- but, unlike in her teenage days, it didn't seem to be thick with malice; hands grasping at her hair to tie it up on the top of her head to get it out of the way. "I can smell your scent stronger than anyone else's here, honey. I'll find James -- trust me." Despite her words, the chimera does seem to give Blake what she hopes to be a reassuring smile. "We will get Shilo. And James. And everyone else out of there safely."

She then falls quiet when Marco stands -- eyes following him carefully; molten gold once more overtaking her features as she creeped a little closer, but still outside of the man's range of sight; clearly now focusing all of her senses on Marco and the man.

Stuart: Stuart waited to make sure that everyone was on the same page before he was watching the alpha stand and make his way to the door -- tucking the tablet safely away; which he would also later use to try and rip whatever data he could out of the control room inside. He took is standing straighter, adjusting his radio and keeping himself a few paces behind the blonde ; eyes on the door and the alpha as he feels a warm heat of his magic drumming under the surface of his skin.

Guard: Everyday was usually the same - quiet and long. But today was different. The second he heard the other approaching, Richard was on alert - eyes finding someone that belonged much too far in his past rather than in front of him with his palms upturned. "Russo?" He questioned, gripping his gun because you could never trust anyone in this world - not anymore. Not when his very neighbour had killed his wife and kids.

Marco: Marco stopped a good few feet away from him -- and, for the moment, he kept himself completely human. He didn't want to push him if he didn't have to. He slowly lowers his hands, even with the barrel of the gun still on him. "Falls -" he breaths, ducking his head in acknowledgement before taking just a single step closer. "You know why I'm here -- don't you? You know she's in there."

Guard: "Yeah, I know." His expression is hard, unwelcoming to Marco. "I can't let you go get her." She was a danger to the world - maybe he was too.

Marco: Marco huffs out an uneasy, sadden laugh as he shakes his head, "I am not asking permission, Richard," he starts slowly with a small roll of his shoulders. "Don't make this difficult."

Marco: * saddened

Guard: "You're one of them too, aren't you?" Richard asks, finger going to the trigger of his gun as he took a step back - back hitting the door as he did so. "Don't make me shoot you Russo - I don't want to but I will."

Marco: His eyes flicker down for a moment to Richard's trigger finger before flickering back to his features ; merely taking a few more slow steps closer to him. "And I don't want to hurt you - but I will," he told him instead of answering the question. "If you stand between me and my sister, then I will."

Guard: "Russo - I mean it. Stand down - you're sister isn't getting out of here. Even if you get past me there are a hundred more guards in there!"

Marco: He let out a humorless chuckle, his eyes dropping down for a moment as his jaw tightened. "- I was injured, you know. Paralyzed. And because of that, the government cast me aside, despite everything that I did for them ; despite them being the reason I was like that in the first place. And when I was attacked -- they just collared me like they would anybody else. They never even gave me the chance to process what happened to me; or even let me heal. I was still barely walking by the time that I was collared." He raises his eyes back up to Richard at this point, chocolate hues simmering a bright crimson before fading for the moment. "I will get my sister, one way or another -- don't make this difficult. You were my friend -- you going to let some bullshit they have shoved down your throat change that?"

Guard: Richard clenched his jaw - he had known what had happened to Marco. They had talked about him when his sister showed up, had laughed at him. He hadn't heard that he'd been bitten, but it was obvious now that he had. If his walking weren't clue enough, his devil's eyes were confirmation. "I'm sorry, Russo - I can't let you." He spoke, before taking aim and pulling the trigger - someone would hear the shot.

Marco: When the shot rang out, there was a small cry of pain from the man -- taking a stumbling step back as a hand went to his shoulder where it had ripped through the bone. The cry of pain almost had a lupine-like growl to it as his eyes flashed once more; grunting before he was looking up at the other man. He shakes his head again, this time his eyes not fading, "You should not have missed," he breathed, voice soft before his hand came away from his shoulder -- already covered with his own blood -- and was grabbing at the wrist that held the gun; shoving him back with the grip and up against the wall, twisting his arm back and behind him as he used his knee to shove him into the wall from his back -- hoping to cause him to drop the gun.

Guard: The shot missing its mark was likely one of the most horrific moments of Richards life - but then again, it wasn't near as horrific as losing his family had been. And with that, he tried to get off another shot before the man that had once been his friend was grabbing him and twisting his arm. "You'll die in there, Russo. They'll kill you like the dog you are." He hissed at the man, as the pain in his arm made him release the gun with a clatter as it dropped to the ground.

Marco: His claws had dropped, and despite how much easier it would be to incapacitate Richard if he used them, he was still merely using his strength to hold the man up against the wall; even if his anger made him shake and his vision run red -- blood beginning to run down his arm and stain his shirt. "I would not worry about my fate too much, Richard -- I will give you one last chance. I can let go, and you can run. Or I will get past you to get my sister. Will you let me past? Do not lie to me."

Guard: Richard's expression steeled as the other spoke, "No." He answered, "If you have to kill me then do it - I'd rather not live in this world anyways." He growled. Never would he let any of them escape willingly.

Marco: Marco swallows thickly for a moment ; closing his eyes as he fell quiet. He listened ; listened to Richard's heartbeat, before pushing past it and listening to the heartbeats of every single person inside of the facility -- meshed with the heartbeats of his team. Somewhere in there, one of those heartbeats was his sister's. He lets out a quiet growl, the hand of his injured arm coming up to press against his throat - to dig claws into the skin, " -- they have fed you lies that we are monsters; and I do not believe that I can change your mind. I didn't want to do this, Richard. I hope you understand that - that I can't let your life stand in the way of Shilo's, and every other innocent supernatural creature inside." He hesitates another beat before a slow, weak heartbeat stood out from all the others -- one that pushed and pulled at him before he was ripping across Richard's throat in one, quick swipe and stepping away to let him fall.

Erica

Erica watched with caution from the sidelines -- listening carefully as her eyes continued to be a soft, gold beacon in the night, fingers curled around the bark of the tree as if she was anchoring herself down and readying herself. But, as she watched the exchange, a shot was fired -- she went to move, but Stuart grabbed her by the wrist ( "Wait, look -- give him time," Stuart was whispering. ) before she watched him shove the man against the wall, talk to him for a moment longer before the man fell.

Erica could smell guilt and sadness from the man who hovered over the body -- but, what was important in the moment was that she smelled emotion. The lack thereof would mean he was losing control, but he just felt ... sad. "He's good," Erica started, "Quick, he said, we need to move."

Stuart: Stuart was nodding in agreement with Erica when she spoke, "She's right -- people inside, the wrong people, would've already heard gunfire; we need to get moving quickly." He's finally looking to Allison, giving her a small nod before he was beginning to move out of the tree line, making sure his radio was on -- but low enough to not be heard outside of his own ears -- and trusting that everyone else would follow as he approached where Marco stood ; the alpha soon shaking himself out of his stupor and following Stuart and Erica in -- hanging back only slightly to wait for Blake.

Allison: Allison met eyes with Stuart before she was moving just slightly behind him, gun at the ready. She gazed at the alpha as she moved closer, studying the way he seemed to shake himself out of whatever head space he was in. Her eyes turn towards the door, knowing there is nothing she can do to comfort him or the obviously distressed werefox behind her. She keeps herself focused on what she can control - and at the moment that is keeping Stuart safe.

Blake

Blake could barely watch the interaction, eyes tearing away from the scene only to be drawn back like a horror movie. Allison had to grab her forearm when the gun shot echoed in her head, rattling around like a bad movie soundtrack. She gripped at the bark of the nearest tree until its rough surface cut into her palm and the man that Marco had known fell to the ground dead. It takes all she has not to run to Marco, to make sure that he is okay.

Instead she takes a deep breath and wipes at her eyes, looking away from the group now approaching him for the merest moment. It would likely not be the only person Marco had to kill that night, but it doesn't stop the way Blake feels terror rush beneath her skin for him. She steels herself and finally follows behind them, at a slight jog to catch up. When she reaches them, she has to suck in a breath to steady herself before she looks to Marco - confirming that the wound is already healing, eyes brimming with concern that she swallows down in preparation for whatever they're about to face.

Marco: As he hung back to wait for Blake, his attention did pull to the still pulsing injury on his shoulder ; shoving his ruined sleeve up to look at it -- he didn't have time to be in awe of how quickly he was healing ; how the wound was almost closing before his eyes, and all that would be left of it in a few moments would just the blood -- it was his hand skittering across it gently that made him realize his claws were still out ; stained with his own blood, and Richard's. He's inhaling sharply and jerking his hand away as if he had been burned, forcing the claws back in in time to look up to see Blake. He sighs -- looking to Stuart for a brief moment, nodding to him before gesturing down the hallway that Stuart had instructed them to go down.

Stuart

He paused to make sure that everyone was in, keeping one hand free at all times in case he needed to fight before they got into the control room -- taking stock of the small team before looking to Allison, watching as Erica gave him a small look before heading for the stairs -- watching her glowing eyes before she disappeared out of sight.

He grasps at Allison's wrist, squeezing gently, "Left, and then a right --" he whispers the directions to her, in case they were somehow split up in the small distance between here and there.

Allison: Allison looks to Stuart and gives him a small smile, "I'm right on you," She told him gently, as though to say that she wasn't going anywhere. She had no intention of being split up from him - they were doing this together and making it out safely this time. Without any extra bullet wounds.

Blake: Blake catches a breath before she is pulling her gun from its holster and checking it over. She may have claws, but a gun is going to help much more when she's across the hall from her opposition. She watches Erica go with a quiet frown, looking to Marco now for his lead.

Marco

Marco inhales a shaky breath, looking back to Blake for just a moment before glancing down the hallway. His senses were still vastly unfamiliar to him, and it took a moment to try and narrow in on what he wanted. No -- needed, not wanted. Because what he wanted was to try and hone in on Shilo's heartbeat. But what he needed was to make sure that there was no danger between them and her. Listening down the hall for out of place heartbeats.

"--- I think we are clear for now," he whispers, voice scarcely audible as he knew her ears would pick it up before beginning to follow Stuart's directions down the hallway, eyes glowing a soft red as he did.

Stuart: He merely gives a mute nod to Allison when she confirms that she's right behind him, feeling the red hot heat of his magic on standby as he kept himself as close to the wall as possible. While he could do a lot, they didn't have the advantage of superhuman senses like the rest of the team. He took the directions that he had given Allison, making sure she was still on him, before coming to a door ; quietly trying it before gesturing to her to watch his back - he needed to pop the lock.

Allison: Allison followed behind Stuart, her training kicking in like it had only been hours since her last training session. She didn't have superhuman hearing, but she knew what to listen for - footsteps and casual chatter. When Stuart nodded to her, Allison stands close by and keeps her gaze scanning the area around them, occasionally glancing to the door. It was likely that there was someone inside that room, but they wouldnt know until they got the door open. "Careful," She warned him softly.

Blake: Blake follows silently down the hall, her gun at the ready as she keeps an eye on their backs, letting the others cover in front of them. She stays close to Marco, not staying more than a couple of feet behind him in case he picked up Shilo's presence. All the while she was listening for James to no avail.

Marco

He's quiet all the while, listening to whatever signs that he could pick up -- albeit, after a while, he picks up the same, slow heart beat as before; and his breathing stutters as he stops in the hallway ; red hues fluttering shut as he slowed his breathing to try and find the direction that the heart beat was coming from. It was her--, it had to be. He was still for a very long moment -- scarcely not even aware that what he was listening to was a pack draw -- before he was opening his eyes again, "Two doors on the left," he whispers, gesturing forward before going for the door ; feeling the resistance of the lock.

"I'm going to break the lock," he then tells her, already beginning to put a little more force behind the doorknob as he hears metal begin to groan.

Stuart: He merely nods mutely at Allison -- knowing that the control room was likely not unmanned. He wraps his hand more firmly around the metal of the doorknob, a flash of purple in his eyes before he was closing them ; focusing on the lock. " -- whoever is in there is going to hear it," he breaths, "We need to be ready as soon as it opens." Seconds after he spoke, the lock is clicking open and he's opening the door quickly, eyes still flared up purple as he steps to the side to give Allison room ; at her back to defend her if he needed to.

Allison: Allison is moving into the door slowly as soon as Stuart moves aside, and she spots her a second too late - a flash of dark hair in the corner of her peripheral vision that jumps at her. She's pushed to the side as she's tackled, gun clattering to the floor as it's shoved out of her hand. Allison struggles, tumbling to the floor with the woman, ignoring the pain that flares up in her shoulder.

Blake: Blake nearly runs into Marco as he stops suddenly, turning around to face him as he seems to be trying to find Shilo. She knew that connection like the back of her hand - she'd had the same thing with James since the day she was born. It had nearly killed her the day he'd gone missing. She nods as he moves towards a door, and when he speaks she doesn't say a word, merely watches the hall around them and readies her gun over his shoulder into the room, just in case.

Dev: The door clicks open and Dev is ready, knife in her hand as she launches herself at the dark-haired woman coming into the room. She moves to stab the woman as they tumble to the floor but the knife hits the tile beside her head and sticks - abandoning it she goes to her throat with a hand, trying to gain enough leverage to at least force her to pass out. She winces as a foot connects with her shin, before she's toppled over and the woman is on top of her.

Marco

He feels his strength in ways he never had before -- barely even *straining* as he felt the lock groan more so until it *snaps* inside of the door; releasing the handle as it merely swung open. Marco takes a moment -- just a moment -- to compose himself before he's throwing it the rest of the way open ; and his eyes flicker back to human in a mere heart beat. "Shilo ...-" he is whispering, temporarily sounding much *younger* than he truly was.

There was no one else in the room, mercifully, just her. He couldn't tell if she was aware or not where she was sitting up against the wall -- no longer hesitating even slightly as he rushed into the small room and crashed to his knees by her; a hand on her shoulder as he spoke in quick, panicked Spanish, "Shilo -- little sister.... It's ... It's Marco... I -- I am so sorry, can you hear me?"

Stuart

Stuart hisses out Allison's name as the blur of black hair flickers through his vision, eyes flaring up even brighter as the two woman grapple to the ground -- trying to find an in without hurting Allison. He knew that Allison could easily take care of herself, even against supernatural, but he wasn't sure what this woman was capable of.

So, instead of pushing too much, he's merely jerking the knife out of the floor -- pocketing it so that it wasn't in the stranger's reach.

Allison

Allison grunts as she leverages herself on top of the Hunter - clearly one by the way she fights, though she is sloppy. Still, she catches her in the face with a fist and Allison grunts in pain, the two struggling for a few moments longer before Allison gives up trying to pin her. Reeling back with her good shoulder, Allison punches the girl right in the nose, wincing with the pain in her hand from the punch - followed by another. She feels her go limp beneath her and rolls herself off the other girl, standing and retrieving her gun just in case the other wakes up.

Gun pointed at the Hunter, she looks to Stuart, "What do we do with her?" She asks.

Blake: Blake moves into the room behind Marco, staying near the door to watch for anyone coming down the hall as Marco tried to rouse his sister into lucidity - "We need to go soon, Marco," She warned him softly, "You're going to need to carry her."

Dev: Devana struggles the best she can, catching the woman in the jaw with a stray punch before her face is lighting up with pain. Soon after, she's seeing stars and then her world goes black.

Shilo

A sound seems to come from somewhere in her world, but sounds have long since become her jailers. She tries to swim through the void of sound to figure out what this new one is, and it is the touch of skin on her own that seems to lead the way - the sound of her native tongue spoken to her in rushed tones that helps her blink back enough of the fog to see the face so close to her own that if she could lift her arms she would just to confirm its reality.

"Brother?" It seems unreal - she'd long since lost count of the days since she'd seen his face. Perhaps she had finally died? Her voice is hoarse, cracked from the crying that was all she could do to appease the screams that wanted to burst forth.

Marco

He almost doesn't hear Blake's voice as he tries to pull his sister back to him, a hand coming up -- shaky as it was -- to press against her jawline; soothing his thumb over her skin, over the dried tear lines, as he watched her. As his breath shook and he realized there were wet tears on his own cheeks that he didn't even know when they started. Pleading gently under his breath before was speaking.

A sob broke out of his chest, dropping his head down against her for a moment. "Shi --- I am so sorry, Shi. It's me, I'm here. You're safe now, I promise. We -- we don't have time. I'm going to carry you out of here, okay?"

Stuart

Stuart merely watches helpless from the side for a moment before huffing out a small breath when the stranger is knocked unconscious -- stepping into Allison's space to rest a gentle hand on her shoulder, affirming that she was alright. "Tie her up in the corner -- if she's in here, she's important. She knows things we need to know. We'll take her back to the Underground. Have Satomi see if she can get anything out of her." From there. .. -- he wasn't sure. They weren't the torturing type, and he wasn't sure what other methods Satomi had up her sleeve.

He was turning away from Allison, because they didn't have much time, before sitting down at the computer -- plugging in his tablet before beginning to pull up programs -- "Radio the others, let them know we're in and to give me a few minutes."

Allison: Allison had been prepared for this, pulling her backpack off and digging in it for the rope she'd packed. She set to work tying up the Hunter while Stuart began his work. When he speaks, she nods, and pulls out her radio - "We're in. We need a few, I'll radio when we're ready - if it's longer than five minutes then go." She tucks it away again before finishing tying up their new captive. Her knots are tight, and she makes sure of it - there's no room for a mistake here.

Blake: Blake hears her radio crackle to life and she sighs, anxious to get going, but she pulls her radio out and confirms Allison's message - letting them know that they were safe. She tucks it back away and glances back at Marco, her heart hurting for him in that moment.

Shilo: Shilo doesn't speak, she merely nods at his words - fresh tears rolling down her cheeks. Each muscle in her body screams as she tries to move, strained too long with the pain of the handicap preventing her from screaming. "I can't move," She speaks softly, apologetically.

Marco

His bottom lip trembles slightly despite himself, kissing her forehead before he was nodding, "It's okay," he promises, smoothing her hair from her features, "I can carry you, it's okay -- I'm going to get you out. I'm going to get you somewhere safe, and we're going to get that thing off of you, I promise." He soothes that hand through her hair before speaking again, "I'm going to move you now, okay?" He gives her a moment to comprehend that before he's gently cradling her, one arm under her legs, and the other around her shoulders before he's standing with her; amazed at his strength, at how she felt weightless as he cradled her against his chest, looking to Blake.

Now they waited for the cells to be sprung so Erica could direct James down to Blake and they could leave. Because he wasn't leaving without Blake, either.

Stuart

He spares a small glance to Allison before looking back to the computer -- starting a download onto his device of data before he was beginning to look into the security files, releasing each and every one of the data files on the "patients", as they were called ( it made him sick ).

"Alarms disabled," he spoke as he continued to filter through things, his voice scarcely audible over the sound of him typing and opening different files. He was quiet for a moment longer before huffing out a breath, a very fleeting smile on his lips before it was gone, "Cell doors should be opening."

Allison: Allison listens and watches, waiting for Stuart to work his magic before she pulls out the radio again. "Cells should be opening now." She breathes into the radio, tucking it away again as she waited for Stuart to be done so they could get the hell out of there.

Blake: When Allison speaks into the radio again, she feels a small sense of relief that is only fleeting - they still have a long way to go before they are in the clear. She glances back to Marco and Shilo, gaze flitting over both of them before she is looking back to the door, gun held up and ready to shoot anyone coming through that door with a gun.

Shilo: Shilo merely nods, closing her eyes as he lifts her, hiding the pain poorly but still attempting to hide it. She catches her breath when he finally has her cradled against his chest, breathing short and harsh.

Marco

He can smell the pain radiating off of her -- all of his senses still so startlingly new that he was surprised he was able to identify what he was sensing. Regardless, he was resting a hand on the back of her neck ; holding her steady against him as he did what he had only been told that he was able to do -- breath hitching as he began to draw her pain out. He could take it, he had been in pain for over ten years -- and, for the first time, he wasn't; he could shoulder Shilo's.

"Floor two clearing out -- heading your way, Red Leader," came Erica's voice, addressing Satomi before, "Red Heeler, Metztli -- plus one friendly headed your way." James was headed their way --

Stuart: "A few more seconds--" Stuart was whispering, standing to his feet so that he could be ready to pull out his tablet and leave, "Can you carry her by yourself, or will you need my help?" he's asking, looking over his shoulder and pausing merely to listen to Erica's voice over the radio. They could do this --, but he didn't have time, at the moment, to relish the hopeful approaching victory.

Allison: Allison smiles as she hears Erica's voice over the radio and as Stuart stands, she is moving towards the unconscious hunter. She tested her weight, lifting her up over her shoulder, "Yeah, I've got her - just not for an extended amount of time." She wasn't too heavy, Allison would be fine for now. She moves towards the door, readying herself to leave as soon as Stuart is ready.

Blake: Blake's heart leaps into her throat as she hears Erica's voice over the radio, before she is feeling him all but running towards their location. A half-sob leaves her throat, and she is met after a minute with her brother's strong scent as he turns the corner and they collide into a hug that sends her reeling backwards just a little with the force of it. "James," she laughs disbelievingly against his shoulder and allows herself one more moment of contact before she pulls back and retrieves her radio, "Friendly received," She confirms, sounding breathlessly happy.

Shilo: Somehow, Shilo's pain seems to dissipate with her brothers touch and she's not sure why - but it is still not enough. She remains still save for the shaking of her body in his arms, not lifting her head from his shoulder - trusting that he will get her to safety. She knows that if he's made it this far to get her, he won't fail.

Marco

Marco keeps his eyes out down the hallway as James and Blake reunite -- a small, hidden smile on his lips as he holds Shilo just a little tighter, nodding as she radios back Erica and making brief eye contact with James ; deciding to reintroduce himself once they were out of here.

"Clearing out floor three -- three minutes, I will be right behind floor three, copy Red Leader?" came Erica's voice over the radio, answered quickly by Satomi.

"It is also time for us to leave," Marco was telling Blake and James. "Quickly ; even if Stuart disarmed the alarms, Richard's gunfire was enough to get attention. I am surprised we have no been attacked yet."

Stuart: "Just let me know when you need me to take over," he tells her, gently taking the radio from her hip as he listens to Blake and Erica and Satomi. "Juliet and Pariah clearing out -- radio silence unless you need assistance," he spoke quickly, nodding to Allison before he was leading the way out of the control room.

Blake: Blake nods, gun at the ready as she looks back to James and Marco, "Just stay close," She tells them, leading the way out of the room and down the hall back the way they'd come. They were so close to getting out of there that it almost felt like a victory, but she knew better than to count her ducks before they hatched.

Marco: Marco nods to her, keeping Shilo cradled close to his chest -- letting Blake lead the way this time, as he couldn't fight as easily with Shilo in his arms. He didn't want to drop her, not when she was in this state -- he had to protect her, when he hadn't been able to for the past four years. "Keep your ears open-" he whispered.

Blake: Blake half-smiles at his words, because she never closes them. They move at a good pace through the halls, back to the door that they entered through and out into the fresh air - one step closer to freedom. She can't wait to have James safe again.

Marco: He follows them more so as they get closer to the entrance, trying not to jostle Shilo too much as he did so. Albeit, they were almost at hte door when Marco's jaw tightens, "I think there is people outside," he whispering, eyes glowing as he tightens his grip on his sister.

Blake: "I'll go first," Blake whispers, readying her gun as she gently nudges the door open with her gun held at the ready - James close behind her. The people outside are not what she expects, and for a moment she pulls up short, shocked into silence.

Marco

Marco slowly edges out behind them, Shilo still cradled in his arms -- the people across the area looked *cautious* of them, but curiosu as well. And Marco's eyes narrow, looking over his shoulder as his heart hammers. He hears slight fighting in the distance, but there is no sound over the radio -- so he assumes that it was on Erica's side of things, and Satomi's group has it taken care of.

"-- who are these people? These are not security."

Blake

Blake holds her gun up at them despite their lack of weapons or aggressive behaviour - she isn't going to be caught off guard. She frowns at them, keeping herself between them and her companions.

"I don't know -" She manages to get out before she notices a camera - "They have a camera -" She hisses out to Marco, too quiet for anyone but their own ears and James' to pick up.

Marco: Eyes skitter back behind him where he can still hear the commotion of the fighting -- before flinching harshly when the alarms finally click on; blaring against his senses and causing his breathing to stutter before he's looking back to Blake and James. It seemed apparent that Erica and the others - of Satomi's group - were acting as a distraction and the people at the facility didn't even seem to bother to check if anyone left out the front. "Take Shilo, you and James leave -" he whispered back to her ; keeping himself close to their small group.

Blake: Blake paused a moment at his words, not wanting to leave him for the life of her, but she knew it was best - they wouldn't be watching her go off if he distracted them and then she could get him out of there. She tucked her gun away, tenderly taking the girl from his arms and giving him a look that screamed I will get you out of here before she was motioning to James and running off into the tree line with him.

Marco: "I'll be fine," he whispers under his breath when he hands Shilo off gently; trusting the Blake would get his sister to safety.

Blake: Once safely inside the tree line, Blake grabs her radio from her pocket while James helps hold Shilo - "Pariah, we need backup - reporters or something on Metztli. We need a distraction to get him out of there."

Marco: His gaze is flickering once more to the door that was still wide open -- and he seems to be approaching the reporters. "Reporters?" Stuart is responding quickly back over the radio. There is a moment of silence before he was likely speaking with Allison -- telling her to watch his back. "Circling back -- I'll get them off of him."

Blake: Blake stood by with her breath held as she watched and waited with anxiety for Stuart to get the reporters off of Marco - to get him back into the safety of the shadows.

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