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deantfwinchester · 21 days

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Hands

Pairing: No-Outbreak!AU, Joel x Teacher!Reader as usual (let's just assume these No-Outbreak Joels are all the same couple tbh), established relationship

Summary: Friday nights are reserved for sweatpants and relaxation, of course. But when Joel's work week leaves his hands a bit worse for wear, the night may need to include a break for a little extra attention.

Warnings: extreme fluff once again. expect it at this point. i'm a one-trick pony, i fear.

A/N: finally got around to putting one of my many bulleted notes-app idea fics into paragraph form again! Will we get another one before the year's out? It's anyone's guess! -_-

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Friday nights are your favorites. No dinner to cook or rattling rolodex of tasks to come in the next twelve hours give you both a little room to breathe — to gently unwind from yourselves and into one another. It’s typically quiet, and when it isn’t, the volume is born of laughter from games or stories the three of you share.

Joel comes home from an exceptionally long week. You know he’s been on site every day—the whole team has—working longer and longer hours to wrap up the latest project before the client’s deadline. You’re pleased to hear his keys rattle in the door not long after five o’clock, and relieved because the air’s rapidly cooling earlier each night. Daylight Savings time is coming to an end, and today he barely beat the sunset getting home.

You know the hour means little, however, and are less than astonished at the weary grin he bears on catching sight of you and Sarah on the couch when he walks in the room. She’s already got her purse on her shoulder, eager to head out when her friends arrive, and she’s excitedly recounting the events of the trailer for the movie they’ll be catching tonight. He stands idly in the doorway for a moment, just listening to the two of you chat. You make brief eye contact and smile back, assuring you know he’s there. Neither of you wants to interrupt her avid storytelling.

“Well don’t you sound excited?” he says when she pauses to catch her breath. You both turn to greet him, and he moves more quickly toward you as you attempt to rise, gesturing to you to remain seated. He’ll come to you both.

He plants a kiss on top of Sarah’s head before leaning down to kiss you as he does each night. You place a hand on his chest and pause when he pulls back to get a good look at his face. You see the fatigue in his droopy-eyed smile, but can’t say anything to him. You already know it’s mirrored in your own expression.

The doorbell rings before either of you can speak again, and Sarah jumps up to head out the door. You wish her a good night, and he follows her to the door, checking for a familiar parent in the driver’s seat and seeing her off. You see him hand her some cash to go with his reminder to make good decisions, and he hugs her. You can’t help but giggle when she takes it with a wide smile.

He turns to you laughing when he sees she’s in the car, and shuts the door.

“What?” he asks, brow furrowed in confusion, but amused at the sound of your laughter.

“Smart girl. I gave her a 20 before you got home,” you grin back at him. He stills in understanding and rolls his eyes.

“You couldn’t tell me that two minutes ago?” he asks you in mock exasperation.

“But it’s so much funnier this way!” you add, giggling again. You both know he’s wrapped completely around her finger, though she so innocently does not. It’s one of the first things you noticed about him. One of the first reasons you fell in love.

He shakes his head fondly, and places a hand on his stomach, which begins to grumble softly at him. You raise your eyebrows and meet his gaze. “Any thoughts on dinner?” he asks, and you grin back at him in amusement.

“Handled. Pizza’s already on the way,” you respond and he feigns relief.

“You’re brilliant.” he says, walking up and grabbing your hand on the back of the couch. You run your thumb in little circles on the back of his hand and give it a light squeeze.

“Duh. Now go get changed! It’s do-nothing time starting now,” you respond, patting the top of his hand in encouragement.

“You read my mind,” he says, leaning down for another quick peck before heading off into the bedroom to change out of his work clothes. Naturally, you’ve been in sweats for over an hour now, shedding your own outfit immediately, peeling the school day from your skin. The unspoken uniform for these Friday nights is extremely specific.

The pizza arrives before Joel can even return from the bedroom in a feat of incredible timing. You’re gathering plates and filling glasses with ice when he emerges ready for the night. He moves forward to help you grab the dinner, but you shoo him away to the couch.

“Nope, I got this. You sit,” you say, lightly shoving his chest away. You leave no room for argument. He grumbles a bit and raises his hands, backing away to the living room. You follow behind him with the pizza and plates, and return once more for the drinks before settling next to him on the couch. He sits on one end, and you sit in the middle, leaving little room between you.

You lean forward, putting pizza on one plate you pass to Joel before grabbing your own, then settle back against the cushion, both sinking in so comfortably a nearly audible sigh fills the room. The comfort in this relief is palpable, and the decompressing can begin. You grab the remote and put on the series you’ve been binging together recently, more for background noise than anything else.

A few slices and sitcom episodes deep, you’ve set your plates down on the coffee table. With your bellies comfortably full, you’ve somehow slumped deeper, though Joel into the couch and you into his side. His arm is draped over the back of the couch behind you, and you’re nearly laying on him, head propped against his shoulder.

You hold his free hand in both of yours and absently play with his fingers for a second when you notice the aggressive wear this week has lent his hands. They’re a raw, angry red at the knuckles; his nails are cracked in some places and peeling in others. Moving your fingers gently down toward his wrist, you focus more directly on the state of his, catching sight of a few hangnails and stretched cuticles that can’t be comfortable. He looks down as you begin to worry them beneath the soft pads of your own fingers, and you meet his gaze, brows furrowed as you look between his face and hands.

“Keep doing that, please,” he says with a sigh before closing his eyes, “I wait all day to feel your hands on mine. They’re so soft.” He lifts your hand to his lips before pressing a feather-light kiss to your knuckles. He loves the delicate, reverent way you play with his hands, like they’re small, fragile things in need of tender attention. You take his hand once again into both of yours and gently rub it between them, looking back up at him, concerned.

“How do yours feel? They look like they’re hurting you,” you gnaw a bit at your bottom lip in thought, and he tries to assuage your worry.

“I’m alright, darlin’. Nothing worse than I’m used to,” he says. He knows from your deepening frown that you’re less than satisfied with this response.

You couldn’t care less if he’s used to it, he shouldn’t be. You know the protective callouses forged there don’t mean those hands are unfeeling in the slightest.

“Wait there. I’ll be right back,” you say, rising from his side and hastening to the bedroom. It’s his turn to frown now, both in confusion and at the sudden draft that’s appeared at his side.

You return not a minute later with a small tote around your wrist, and hands filled with half the manicure items you own. You sit down next to him and unpack, laying clippers, files, cuticle oil, and two different hand creams — a lotion he’s seen you use regularly, and a jar that must be a new addition — on the coffee table in front of you, along with the selected polishes and remover you had in the tote bag. You’ve been meaning to do your nails, anyway.

Joel looks incredulously at you, unsure where this is going. Not that he’s a stranger to nail polish — he raised a little girl on his own long enough to have worn the rainbow on his fingers, but tonight?

“Sorry, no color for you today, honey. Certainly not before these are healed,” you say. He’d chip half your handiwork away by Monday afternoon anyway the way he’s been working lately. Facing him, you cross your legs on the couch and smile, holding your hand out expectantly for his. He raises his eyebrows at you, but places his palm gently in your own.

You grab the clippers and get to work on the hangnails first. Any peeling skin or cuticle right there at the nail you clip as gently as possible, making note of the reddened and slightly swollen areas at the base of his nail from which they protrude. Those will need careful attention at the end. He doesn’t squirm or react in any way, but you know they’re more sensitive than he’s letting on.

Next, you clip back any breakages and unevenness in the nails themselves. You’d never find Joel Miller with dirty hands — he gets them clean as soon as he gets home, but all the scrubbing it takes to keep them that way takes its toll. A little trim at their length might help reduce the need for so much each day upon his return.

After clipping, you grab his first hand again and rest it gently in the palm of your left while your right files steadily to even any rough edges left behind and prevent further injury. It won’t take much, but you’re sure to get them smooth so they won’t catch on anything or bother him later on.

The cuticle oil is next. He looks at it questioningly, clearly a bit skeptical, only having seen it a few times when you or Sarah used it. He’s never ventured so far himself. While you brush it gently onto each of his nails, you explain its purpose.

“This’ll just help your nails get a little stronger. It’ll get them hydrated a bit, keep ‘em from peeling so much when your hands get dry. It’s kinda crazy how much better this stuff is for your nails than even water is. Water’ll make the peeling worse, actually. Weird, huh?”

He just nods along, listening to you, content to learn something new as always. Finger by finger, you massage the oil into his nail and nail bed. After the first round you go back through to massage again, both to make sure no oily feeling is left behind, and to prolong the rapidly concluding process. He could use the attention, anyway.

Finally, you pick up the jar he identified as a new addition: a canister of a hand repair cream labeled for “Healing of dry or cracked skin.”

“Never seen that one before,” he says, reading the label, “What d’ya need this for? Your hands are never dry! I think they’ve been soft every time I’ve held 'em since the day I met ya,” he smiles at you, and you bashfully brush off the compliment.

“I don’t need it. I use the other one,” you say with finality, opening the jar and pulling the first of his hands into yours. You don’t grab a large dollop of the stuff. You don’t want him to feel a disconcerting weight, grease, or stickiness from this unfamiliar formula, so you get a little and begin. You add a bit more each time you reach a new spot on his knuckles, palms, wrists.

You take your time, gently massaging into those roughened, tender hands far more than a simple healing salve. He understands why you have the jar now, looking at you knowingly, and you smile back. No words need be exchanged.

Once you’ve finished the last finger and the last stroke on his hands, you squeeze the one in your own, then pat it gently with your other, “There. Gotta feel better now, yeah?”

Joel stares at you like he just watched you reach up and place the moon in the sky, if for no reason other than to light his path.

“Like you wouldn’t believe. Thank you sweetheart,” he says, squeezing your hand back and smiling reverently at you. You blush beneath his gaze and look away, unsure what to do with the admiration rolling off of him in waves. You lean back against the couch, file in hand as you start going at your own nails.

“Good. Don’t let 'em go that long again, either. Where they start hurtin’ ya? Maybe we oughta make this a weekly thing. Manicure night? Been needing someone to do my right hand,” you grin, wiggling the corresponding fingers at him. He smiles back at you, then reaches over and pulls you toward his side, back to your original position laying against him, head resting once again on his shoulder.

“Sounds like a plan,” he says fondly into your hair, planting a kiss to your head in the process. You get comfortable once more, foregoing any plans to do your own nails tonight. You both know those “manicure nights” will be for him — and you’ve got Sarah to do your right hand already, when you do hers.

You grab the same free hand once again and admire your work, then lace your fingers between his own, and rest your twined hands on his leg. You’re satisfied knowing the hand behind you on the couch is comfortable now, healing from the week’s toils and melting into the comforting haze of the early autumn evening.

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ahkaahshi · 3 years

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1:32 AM [hirugami sachirou x reader]

pairing: hirugami sachirou x fem reader

genre: fluff with sprinkles of angst

warning(s): descriptions of catastrophic thinking/anxiety, brief mentions of death, swearing

word count: 2.5k

overview: when hirugami’s old habits of rumination come back to haunt him, there’s only one person who can bring him peace

By the time it’s 1:32 AM, Hirugami has spent no less than a half hour staring at the digitized numbers of the alarm clock cutting through the darkness, watching the precious seconds and minutes of sleep tick away before his eyes. A strange haze hangs over him, and it’s as if his ears have been stuffed with cotton, amplifying all the thoughts pounding against his skull. For a moment, there’s an eerie silence in his head, during which he can hear the leaves whispering in the breeze outside of his window, and he thinks he’s finally falling asleep, but the quietude is painfully temporary.

With a heavy sigh, he turns on his back and stares up at the ceiling, giving his thoughts a moment to surface individually, like bubbles rising to meet the daylight shining down on a body of water.

When will what I do ever be enough?

Did I really choose the right path in life?

Would I still feel this way if my life had played out differently?

When will these thoughts stop?

Rumination is nothing new to him. Despite being able to keep the habit tucked away for a majority of his high school years with both yours and Hoshiumi’s help, he finds that it often comes back to haunt him at the most unexpected times. His week at work had been as smooth as it could be given he was a busy veterinarian, yet he’d felt a knot of something—uncertainty?—forming within him over the course of the past few days. Where it had originated from he had no clue, but it was proving to be a formidable opponent now, in the late hours of the evening while the rest of the neighborhood slept.

The journal on his bedside table catches his attention, and as much as he knows he should take a moment to pen down his troubles in an attempt to put them to rest, his hands feel too heavy to move. Just making the simple trip from his chest to the table feels like the most effortful task in the universe. He does, however, find the strength and motivation to reach for his phone lying beside him where he’d tossed it in agony after realizing he was using it far too long after bedtime.

His eyelids instinctively narrow at the sudden influx of light that spills onto his face from the screen when he turns it on, even though the brightness is at its lowest setting. Lazy drags of his fingertips find him face to face with your smiling contact photo, and sluggish taps compose a more to-the-point text message than he usually sends asking if you’re still awake. Gray dots appearing, then promptly disappearing along the bottom of his screen proves that you are—and in an instant, he’s answering a call from you.

“What’s up, Sachi?” you ask, voice more chipper than he’d expect at this hour.

“Nothin’ much,” he lies with a yawn. Hearing his voice weighted so heavily with fatigue makes your heart sink in your chest. “What’re you up to?”

He can hear rustling through the phone as you readjust the blankets ensconcing you to pull them up to your shoulders again. Gazing at your glowing computer screen, you respond, “Just watching a movie,” before asking, “Everything okay?”

“Just having trouble getting to sleep, is all,” he explains, the words leaving his mouth in another exasperated groan, “So, I thought I’d talk to my favorite person if she was still awake.”

Jokingly, you comment, “I won’t tell Kourai you said that, yeah?”

He chuckles. “Thanks.”

A comfortable moment of silence passes, during which you shuffle your feet beneath the covers to warm them up and he allows his eyelids to flutter shut so he can focus his full attention on the sound of your voice when you speak again. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Don’t you get tired of it, (f/n)?”

“Of what, baby?”

“Of listening to me talk myself in circles when I’m like this and hearing about the same issues over and over again?”

Though there’s a hint of irritation laced in his tone, you know it’s directed at himself rather than at you. “Sachi, you can talk about whatever you want as much as you want. I know how much you keep to yourself, so it’s okay. I just want to help, since I know how exhausting it must be for you to deal with.” There’s a short pause, and you know from experience that his mind is most likely distorting your words, forming them into daggers he sinks into his own heart. “I promise, it’s okay to talk to me about it. Trust me.”

He blinks slowly, takes a deep breath, and agrees, “Okay.”

Pursing your lips, you glance around the darkness of your room until your eyes settle on the bag you’d already packed, ready to take to his house for your scheduled weekend visits. “Would it help if you could see my face?” you wonder, your mouth curling up into a small grin regardless of the fact that he can’t see it.

“Well,” he hums, dragging his long fingers through his chestnut brown hair, “you know I’d never turn down the opportunity to see my gorgeous girlfriend, but you’ll have to give me a minute to touch up my makeup.”

With a snicker, you retort, “You’ll have plenty of time to pull yourself together if I just come over instead.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that, sweetheart. Not at this ungodly hour.”

“And you didn’t,” you reaffirm, “but I want to, so, will you let me visit a whole—” you interrupt yourself to check the time before continuing—“eight and a half hours earlier than we’d originally planned?”

“I would love that,” is his answer given without hesitation despite his initial, intrusive thought of being burdensome to you by allowing you to drive over so early in the morning.

And even though he feels himself sinking deeper and deeper into the spiral of negative ideas swirling around him like the raging waters of a whirlpool, he doesn’t regret accepting your invitation when you arrive about twenty minutes later. Upon opening the door to your car for you, he’s greeted by your arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him close for a tight hug that instantly engulfs him in a warm feeling of comfort that he can’t liken to anything else he’s ever felt before from anyone else. He holds your body flush against his—even after he’s felt your grip loosen in a signal to pull away that then tightens once more at realizing he’s not quite finished yet—and acknowledges the guilt that suddenly rises within him.

How could I ever want to know how things could’ve been different when I have her?

“Thanks for coming,” he whispers, craning his neck to press a kiss to yours before finally releasing you and slinging your bag over his shoulder. The wave of cold air that rushes between your bodies at their separation nearly makes you reach for him again, but you settle for latching onto his hand instead while the two of you make your way up to his apartment. “You made it here in record time, speed racer.”

Chuckling, you joke, “Drove like I was answering a booty call.”

“I’m truly flattered.”

The gentle smile across his lips has your heart skipping a beat in your chest but doesn’t hide the fatigue clearly present on his handsome features. His hand on your back gently ushers you inside the familiar warmth of his home when he unlocks the door, and you make a beeline to his bedroom once you’ve kicked off your shoes. A look of amusement glimmers in his eyes at how quickly you settle yourself down in his bed and bury yourself under his comforter and blankets.

As he climbs into bed beside you, your hands move to the sides of his face to pull him towards you for a gentle kiss. “What’s going on, Sachi?” you murmur after your lips part. He sits on the mattress beside you, and the sinking of the bed naturally draws you closer to one another until your arms are wrapped around his torso and his draped over your shoulders.

“Just the usual,” he sighs, fingers absentmindedly grazing the fabric of your sweater, “You know, the whole wondering if I’ve done everything right bit. My mind just loves reminding me of my mistakes and going through how I could’ve handled things differently, even if the thing in question happened, like, five years ago.”

You hum understandingly and nod, focusing on his words to keep yourself awake—which is a challenge when his body feels like a lullaby.

“I’m still hung up over that dog we couldn’t save last month. Every day, I find myself thinking of the moment when his heartbeat just… stopped. And the look in his owner’s eyes when I told her he hadn’t made it. And I just wonder, what could I have done differently to keep him alive?”

He swallows thickly and breathes out a somewhat frustrated sigh. “And I replay the arguments I’ve had with people—and with you—in my head, wondering what I could’ve done to prevent them. But I know that hindsight’s twenty-twenty and that if I’d have known the answer or what was to come beforehand then it never would’ve happened to begin with. It’s so frustrating because I know this, I’ve been able to accept mistakes and let them go, yet I still beat myself up really badly over things every now and then.”

Moving away from him slightly so you can look up at him, into his weary but kind and welcoming gaze, you place your hands on his shoulders and give him a small smile. “Baby,” you say with an affectionate squeeze to his muscles, “these shoulders of yours are so strong, but they’re meant for carrying backpacks, me when I want a piggyback ride, or any kids we may or may not have in the future; not the weight of the world.”

He tilts his head to the side so he can lower his cheek onto one of your hands, spreading heat across your skin. With the way he’s watching you so intently, you can tell how much he values your words as well as the fact that you’re here, sitting in front of him instead of gazing at him through a screen.

Slowly, speaking as the thoughts enter your mind, you assure him, “It’s okay to fuck up. How would we learn if we didn’t?” You stroke his cheek with your thumb before your fingers move to his head of waves tousled haphazardly from whatever restless sleep he’d been able to get.

“Just remind yourself of the way you usually deal with mistakes. Acknowledge them, say yeah, that happened, and it sucked ass, but I’ll do better next time, and let go of them. I mean, I know it’s way, way easier said than done, but you’re really good at it. Remember all those times in high school I came to you, freaking out over the smallest things that I’d done? Who am I kidding? I still do that; but, anyway, it’s always been you who’s helped me. Give yourself the same permission to mess up.”

Your boyfriend of many years heaves a deep sigh as he lets the truth of your statements pass through his internal filter that does a fine job, unfortunately, in this case, of sifting through only the ideas he wants to believe. Though they’re met with initial resistance that only manifests as a defense mechanism, all your words manage to remain after the process like the smallest pieces of gold hidden amongst layers and layers of sediment.

Taking your hand in his, you tell him, “There aren’t really any right or wrong decisions, and I know you know that. They’re just choices you make. Mistakes are gonna happen no matter what, but you’re gonna be okay. I know you, Hirugami Sachirou, and I know how strong and determined you are. You can do what you set your mind to and with that smile on your face some people find annoying—” the grin in question appears on his lips, making you laugh—“Yeah, that one. So, get it into that big brain of yours that you’re doing your best or I’ll have to rough you up a bit.”

“I’m shaking in my boots.”

“As you should be.”

In an instant, the heavy layers of worry that had restricted him before unravel at your definitive statement, and he’s laughing while he pulls you into his arms once more. As always, his laughter is contagious, and it’s not long before you’re doing the same, body shaking against his. “Don’t unleash your wrath on me, baby; I’ll listen, I promise. And I’ll make your favorite for breakfast tomorrow,” he concedes with a teasing tone, a yawn whisking some of his words away.

“We have a deal,” you chirp, “Now, let’s go to sleep. It’s way past your bedtime, gramps.”

He complains, “You callin’ me old?” as your bodies sink down onto the soft mattress, his head pausing in its natural course towards your chest so it can hover above yours. “’Cause I found more gray hairs than I’d like to admit when I was doing my hair yesterday, so I’m actually really self-conscious about it.”

Sticking out your lower lip in a sympathetic pout, you comment, “I said you were old, but I didn’t say that you weren’t hot.”

“So, I’ve still got it, huh?”

“You’re basically a silver fox.”

A soft hum of contentment rumbles against your lips when he presses his to them to shower you with a few, affectionate kisses. Eventually, he pulls away and pecks your chin on his way to your neck, where he nestles his head as your arms readjust to accommodate his body coming to rest against yours. “Thanks, (f/n),” he mumbles, voice suddenly heavy and lethargic compared to how it had been moments earlier, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

Your fingers card through his hair softly as he takes a deep breath and slides his palm along the back of your thigh to coax it around his waist so he can move his body even closer to yours. While the two of you lie together, surrounded in warmth, feeling the gentle beating of each other’s hearts against your bodies, Hirugami finds he has nothing left to worry about—no thoughts left to disturb him. And, because his mind is finally quiet and still, the ruminating beast within him quelled by your honest words and gentle touch, sleep finally comes just as easily to him as loving you does.

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#haikyuu x reader #hirugami x reader #x reader #reader insert #hq x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #hirugami sachirou x reader #fran writes hq!!#ahkaahshi//wnf

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acraftedmistake · 3 years

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A Person Who Has Never Played MCSM Writes A Story About MCSM Chp. 15

CHP 15!!!!! Some good times and bad times lie ahead......

Enjoy!

“Everything okay?” Jess asked. Aiden was about to leave the house but had stopped halfway out the door, turned back around, and scanned the first floor while Jess and Olivia waited for him.

“Yeah.” Aiden said slowly as he began to close the door, twisting the knob to make sure he wouldn’t accidentally lock the three of them out, “Just thought I heard something.” He walked away from the house and patted his hair down. “You two ready to go?”

“Mhm!” Olivia finished zipping up the olive green jacket Stella had lent her. She was hiding her face with the hood of the gray sweatshirt Cassie gave her the day before as well. She knew there weren’t too many people out at this hour, but better safe than sorry.

Jess was wearing the leather jacket and beanie again, but he wasn’t too concerned about hiding his face this time. Earlier, he made a minor complaint that his clothes felt rather stiff after wearing them for a few days straight, to which Aiden promised that once they got back home he would throw their clothes in the washer.

“Let’s get going!” Jess said, adjusting the beanie on his head. Originally, Jess wasn’t too thrilled at the idea of going out at this hour. Knowing there might be Awakening members roaming around, or his alternate self--who had no problem beating Radar in broad daylight--made Jess uncertain over the safety of Obsidian Town’s streets. Aiden assured him that they’d be alright, it’d be three against one, and--in his words--he ‘Wants to do somethin’ nice for Olivia after last night’.

Jess appreciated the thoughtfulness, and in the end, visiting Olivia’s grave was up to… Well, Olivia, but he’d still be ready in case a creep tried to pull something.

Jess couldn’t really blame Olivia for wanting to check out her grave. It’s her place of death. When would you ever get an opportunity to visit a place like that again? Not to mention, Jess had been wanting to get a better look at Obsidian Town rather than getting glimpses or constantly staring at the ground.

The three walked to the left and started their journey to the cemetery. Aiden and Olivia were making small talk, so Jess took this time to absorb his surroundings.

Up ahead, he could spot a tall, crooked, ivory colored tower in the distance. That must’ve been the library Olivia mentioned before. Even from all the way over here Jess could see how ruined the place was. Cracks stretched across it, it was riddled with holes, and it looked moments away from collapsing.

Jess scanned the streets. The long, thin black lamp posts on each side had thin string-lights tied to their tops that stretched across the streets in a zig-zag like manner. It’s a shame they weren’t on at the moment, they must’ve been wonderful when lit.

There were empty stalls they’d pass by occasionally. Colorful, patterned tents protected the bare tables, empty boxes, and scraps sitting underneath. Jess noticed each stall had string lights, small lanterns, or candles for light. He’d catch quick glimpses at folded signs tucked away and papers taped onto poles advertising items and prices. Seeing all of this reminded him of the farmer markets Beacon Town. Jess would always act so crabby when he woke up early for them, but it wouldn’t take long for him to get hyped up and dashing around the place until closing time.

The stalls and all were nice, but Jess couldn’t help but find Obsidian Town’s buildings to be… Underwhelming.

Many of the buildings, from what he could see, were constructed with the same materials: stone, wood, bricks, concrete, the occasional polished granite and diorite, and the rare terracotta. There were variations with the colors, but seeing the same materials got real tiring real fast.

And most structures here were just shapes. That’s all that could really be said. Squared, rectangled, plain shapes to fit the equally-plain materials. Even the sizes of the buildings felt plain. Many were one to two stories, a large handful reached three, and hardly any were four.

Jess was so used to Beacon Town’s monstrous structures, giant jungle trees sprouting from windows, walls of colored glass creating magnificent designs, and bridges stretching from roof to roof that connected the town together. The fun types of builds! It might sound chaotic but that’s what made Beacon Town feel like home. Obsidian Town was just that. A town.

‘Don’t think the people here can risk being experimental, to be fair.’ Jess told himself as he remembered how often quakes struck. He thought back to his town again. He thought about how so many homes would quickly collapse the moment a strong-enough quake would hit. Beacon Town was fun, but it wasn’t built with ‘sturdiness’ in mind, unlike Obsidian Town.

While the construction and sizes of these buildings were on the more ‘basic’ side, the way the citizens decorated the exteriors of their homes and stores was magnificent. Oh, how he loved their decorations. From markets using barrels, wagons, and carefully stacked crates to advertise their fresh fruit and flowers, to cafes that’d have their furniture with their own color schemes and accessories to make them stand out from one another. Some places had porches decorated with flowers and swinging benches, while others had balconies with tiny lights.

Jess would get a second to peer into windows they’d pass by, catching glimpses of interiors that’d tempt him to come closer and press his face against the glass to get a better look. Actually, he hadn’t noticed it right away, but so many windows in Obsidian Town were colored. They didn’t have any intricate designs--a majority of them were one solid color--unlike the stained glass back at the Order Hall, but they were still charming. He pictured in his head how vibrant the streets must be when night comes… The lights from the inside mixing with the colors of the glass must be magnificent.

One place that REALLY caught Jess’ attention was a stone gray building tucked between two larger ones. It had a simple square base, but had a noticeable tilt to it. It had a staircase that wrapped around it’s walls and led to the roof, where a smaller room sat atop, equally slanted. A wooden sign hung from above the door and had the words “Glass Art” on it. Purple, pink, and blue glass shards and chimes were held by opaque strings from the overhang; there was a large, round, beautiful stained glass window with the same colors beside the door.

The glass art reminded Jess of Ivor and his potions. Man… How is Ivor? Is he doing alright? Is he worried? Hopefully he’s not working himself to the bone trying to find a way to save him and Olivia. Jess couldn’t wait to get back home and give that old man a big ol’ hug.

Come to think of it, has anyone mentioned anything about potions while they’ve been here? He doesn’t remember Olivia’s book talking about them, nor any of Aiden’s friends bringing them up… Are there no potions here? Or maybe there’s a lack of materials? They couldn’t go to the Nether or mine without a license--which STILL boggles Jess’ mind--so that probably made gathering resources hard. How would Ivor react to this? He’d probably say: ‘Pah! A universe without potions is a miserable one. Back in my day, we’d travel hundreds of miles to find the finest ingredients for our--’

“Jess!” He heard Olivia call his name. He spun around and saw her and Aiden standing under a stone arch. Olivia had her hands on her hips.

“You done dreamin’?” Aiden asked.

Jess didn’t realize how far he had strayed from the two. He hurried over and joined them at the arch.

“Sorry, sorry, I was busy thinking.” He skidded to a halt and fixed his beanie.

“Just glad nobody saw you.” Aiden said, “I almost stopped her from calling you cause I wanted to see how far you’d walk off.”

“Could you imagine if he got caught like that?” Olivia asked, “One moment he’s strolling through the streets, and the next he’s being pounced on by guards all because he was too busy sightseeing.” Her and Aiden chuckled at the thought.

“Oh, so it’s a crime to appreciate a town now?” Jess dramatically placed his hands on his hips, mimicking Olivia’s posture.

“It's illegal for you.” Aiden said, “Now come on, there’s a shortcut through the park.”

Aiden walked through the moss-covered stone arch. On each side of the arch were thick, green hedges that boxed in the park. Olivia noticed that, unlike the buildings in this town, the hedges didn’t form an actual shape; it would jut in and out at random, creating odd angles and corners. It was strange but charming.

A path that started under the arch and looped around the area, creating a horseshoe-like shape. Aiden ignored the path and continued walking straight through the grass. Olivia saw the usual things most parks had: Benches, lampposts, a sign telling people not to litter. She also noticed leftover chalk on the sidewalk, laying right beside children’s drawings of stick figures and hopscotch.

Obsidian Town’s park was small, nice, simple, and… Honestly a little dark. The thick clouds were already blocking most of the sun’s light, but the few, tall, thick trees had branches that hid nearly every inch of the sky. Despite how dim it was, Olivia could still spot wild flowers sprinkled around the grass, along with the bugs buzzing around them.

Honestly--and Olivia felt bad thinking this--she preferred this sort of park over whatever the heck Beacon Town had going on. Yes, Beacon Town was great in it’s own way. People could build whatever they wanted, and that’s wonderful, but sometimes she’d just like to take a walk without a constant ruckus surrounding her. Sometimes she just wanted peace and quiet--

“That guy’s missing his entire head!” Jess suddenly whisper-shouted as he lightly shook Olivia. Her heart started beating frantically as she hurriedly spun her head around. Her mind was going all over the place. Was it a decapitated corpse? A strange, alternate-universe monster? Or--or--

It was a statue.

“Jess, you nearly gave me a heart attack.” She sighed with relief.

“Sorry,” He took his hands off of her and pointed, “check it out though!”

Both Olivia and Aiden were looking at the statue now. It was a man frozen midrun, an axe held back--stuck in a swinging motion--while the other hand held up his battered shield, which covered his face. If he had a face, that is. It had to be The Impossible Man. Olivia wasn’t sure who else it could’ve been.

“He’s definitely seen better days.” She said under her breath. Besides his entire head missing, a majority of his body was covered in dirt, children’s chalk, and other strange stains. Cracks started from his broken neck and traveled to his chest, his armor was chipped and scratched, and a good portion of his axe had broken off as well.

“Yeah, I think there’s a couple more statues around here?” Aiden mentioned as they continued walking, “They’re all in pretty bad shape. The kids like to mess with them.”

Aiden scanned the park. “There’s one,” He pointed to the upper corner on the left side of the park. A statue was placed on a podium right in front of a tree. Despite the fact one of his legs was missing, he appeared to be sitting comfortably, gazing at the tree tops peacefully.

“Annnndddd…” Aiden kept turning his head in different directions, “I’m pretty sure there was a head somewhere… Oh!” He spun around, walking backwards now as he pointed to the direction of the entrance. Jess and Olivia followed his finger, their eyes landed on a wooden bench--and right beside it was a small column with a broken bust of the man on top. Olivia couldn’t make out much of the man’s face from here, but she kept getting the eerie feeling that his fractured eyes were somehow watching her. Constantly. Unblinking. She shuddered.

“You think the quakes are the reason they’re missing some parts?” She heard Jess ask aloud.

“I find it really hard to believe they somehow stood through all of those quakes and just lost a head or a leg. They might've been stolen.” Olivia theorized.

Jess put his hand on his chin, stroking an imaginary beard, “I think I remember seeing Hadrian have a couple of statue parts at his place…”

“What? You think old people just like to steal random body parts during their free time?” She grinned.

“That’s what I’d like to do when I retire!” He chuckled. Olivia rolled her eyes playfully.

The three came to a stop in front of a wall of hedge that stood a couple inches taller than Aiden. Unlike the rest of the hedges, this one probably hasn’t been trimmed in months. The surface was extremely uneven; hundreds of tiny branches and leaves stuck out and got tangled with one another. This hedge was also covered in flowers. Tons of them. Clusters of fluffy-looking, light pink flowers were scattered throughout, and were nearly as big as Olivia’s face. The ground was covered in old petals.

Olivia made sure that every strand of hair was tucked inside her hood. There was no way she wanted to spend the rest of the day picking out the twigs, leaves, and petals that’d get stuck in there.

Aiden walked to the right, staring into the bush and running his hand over it as he mumbled to himself, trying to remember where the shortcut was. Olivia and Jess awkwardly shuffled along. Aiden soon stopped, crouched down, then put his hand into the bush. He then took it out, huffed, scooched over a couple more inches, and repeated the process.

After a minute of searching, Aiden started talking to himself. “Maybe it’s on the left side? I could’ve sworn we--!” Aiden suddenly fell forward and into a large hole in the hedge.

Man, if Aiden hadn’t fell through, Olivia would’ve also thought he’d forgotten where the entrance was. The branches hid the hole well.

Jess helped Aiden to his feet. Aiden thanked him as he moved aside, motioning towards the hole.

“You guys go ahead.” Aiden said, “I’ll wait for you to go through.”

Jess and Olivia glanced at each other before Jess gave her a little bow, “After you.”

“How kind.” Olivia curtsied. She crouched and crawled through. The dirt was already making her pants a little damp.

Luckily, despite a few scratches, the crawl only lasted a few seconds.

She got up, cleaned herself off, and waited for the boys.

Jess’ head soon popped out from the hole. Leaves and tiny branches were caught in his hair. He wriggled himself out and brushed off his clothes.

“Here, let me help with your hair.” Olivia started plucking the sticks out.

“Thanks!” Jess said happily as he took off and shook the leaves off his beanie.

It was quiet for a couple of moments as they cleaned themselves up. Olivia felt her smile twitch.

“Hey, Jess,” She started slowly, “I’m… I’m sorry.”

Jess put his hat back on, “What for?”

“I know you don’t have the best feelings towards Aiden right now,” She stared at her feet, “I hope it doesn’t feel like I’m dragging you along.”

“What? No, no, no!” Jess exclaimed, “Look, I was real mad last night, but I wanted to go with you!”

Olivia brought her head back up to Jess, a tiny smile of relief on her face.

“And I’m sticking to my word. We’ll stick together no matter what.” Jess shoved his hands into his pockets. “And uh… We don’t really have a choice when it comes to trusting Aiden and his friends, but things aren’t gonna get better if I keep blowing up like I did yesterday--” A sudden grunt interrupted Jess and caused both of them to jump.

They turned to see Aiden struggling to get out of the bush. How much did he hear? Hopefully not too much. Hopefully.

Aiden tries to use his free arm to pull the rest of his body out, but after a few more seconds he stopped fighting and let his face fall to the ground.

“... I’m stuck again.” He could hear Olivia and Jess snicker as they grabbed his hand and began to pull. They were able to pull him out in no time.

“Thanks.” Aiden said as he shook off the dirt--and the embarrassment. “The memorials are on the other side of the cemetery. Should only take a minute to get there.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

When they entered the cemetery, Jess kept his eyes peeled for any familiar names on the gravestones. A few graves had rather unusual colors to them. There was a dusty red one, an uncommon shade, but not odd. Then he’d walk by a blue one; he’s never seen a grave that color before--well, Reuben’s memorial had bits of blue in it, does that count?--Then he walked by a purple grave, a green one, an orange one?

“This is… The happiest looking cemetery I’ve ever seen.” Olivia said as she beheld the rest of the graveyard.

“Is that a compliment?” Aiden asked.

Olivia kept staring at tombstones until she finally said “I don’t know, I’ve just never seen a place for the dead look so… Lively.”

Taking in the rest of the graveyard, Jess had to agree . What was usually a dark, gloomy, dreary place was so, so vibrant. Even under this cloudy, dull weather, the many colors still popped. This was more like a miniature festival than a cemetery! Many tombstone tops looked like roofs with their pointed tops and little overhangs. Their heights and widths would range from short and broad to tall and scrawny. Heck, Jess could spot a couple of graves as tall as him.

“What the heck are your cemeteries like?” Aiden glanced back at them.

“Plainer colors, I guess?” Jess shrugged, “You know, blacks, grays, browns, nothing too flashy.” The only exception Jess could think of was, once again, Reuben's memorial.

“Really?” Aiden sounded genuinely baffled by this. “We hardly got any of those. What do they mean?”

Olivia and Jess exchanged confused expressions with each other before Jess faced Aiden again, “Sadness? Loss? I don’t think there’s any real meaning behind those colors, honestly.”

“Right, we don’t typically associate bright colors with the dead.” Olivia added in, viewing the cemetery again. Scrawny trees and tiny flowers with stems that reached her knees that were peppered around the area; most were in between the graves. She thought about Aiden’s question, “I’m assuming the colors here represent something specific?”

“Yeah, buncha things. Too many for me to keep track of, but I remember the important ones.” Aiden started as they continued walking down the damp dirt path. “When a person dies, their friends and family can choose the color of their grave. It’s usually… Like… Hm. It’s supposed to show what the person was like when they were alive, ya know? Yellow for the happy people,” He explained while pointing to a shorter grave of said-color, “orange for determination, that sorta stuff. Stella’s memorized ‘em all. If you ever wanna know more, she’s the person to ask.”

As Aiden kept talking, Olivia and Jess kept taking in their surroundings. Jess had noticed something. Every single grave they passed was decorated with gems. The gems were placed close by the names and dates of those who passed, and seeing so many of them in various shapes, colors, and sizes made him curious…

“Hey, uh, what’s with the gems?” Jess spoke up, “Are they real?” He was wondering if maybe they were regular stones that were carved and painted. There was no way Obsidian Town could have an overabundance of minerals, especially since the citizens needed a mining license.

“Nah, they’re glass.” Aiden replied, “I thought they were real myself until we had to choose some gems for Lukas--” He suddenly stopped in his tracks. Jess and Olivia peered over and saw a lit redstone torch placed in front of a grave. Aiden plucked the torch from its place, a scowl on his face as he blew out the flame then chucked the burnt wood across the cemetery.

“Anyways, what was I sayin’?” He began walking again, as if nothing out of the ordinary happened.

‘What was that about?’ Jess thought to himself. It must’ve been linked to the cult, right? Why else would Aiden have done that?

“Right!” He snapped his fingers,” So the gems are basically like the colors of the graves. We had to go to this special place where the people there pulled out huge chests filled with those things. Took us forever to pick ‘em out.”

“Each color chosen means something for the person that passed…” Jess whispered to himself as Aiden’s words from earlier echoed through his mind. He was rather fond of how Obsidian Town remembered their dead. It was more uplifting than what he was used to. Maybe he could make some changes to the graveyards once they get back to Beacon Town.

Aiden was quiet for a minute before he added, “Gill took the longest. He was real worried his gem wouldn’t be good enough.” He paused. “He… he ended up crying.”

His voice got quieter, “I hated seeing him like that.”

Jess and Olivia both tried to think of what to say, what ‘s the next best thing to do, but Aiden immediately changed the subject.

“What do you guys put on your graves?” Aiden asked, he sounded ‘normal’ again, but kept facing away from the two.

Jess hesitated, “Names. Dates.”

“A description of the person who passed.” Olivia added.

“Just words? Doesn’t that get a little… Depressing?” Aiden narrowed his eyes.

“Oh, you think that’s sad? We once wrote out an entire dictionary on a guy’s grave back in our universe.” Jess answered jokingly. Olivia let out a little giggle, and they even heard a chuckle out of Aiden.

That small chuckle was all Jess needed to hear to continue telling quips and share short, funny stories at Aiden’s way to try and lighten the mood. Aiden was soon sharing his own experiences mixed in with his own humor. Aiden and Jess were bouncing off of each other, making fun of their own universes while Olivia would throw in her commentary every now and then.

‘This is so weird…’ Olivia thought to herself. The three of them laughing while walking through a cemetery… it’s something that’d usually feel inappropriate to do, but here she wasn’t all that bothered.

This whole experience has been surreal. Entering a rainbow of a cemetery through a bush felt like something that’d only happen in her dreams, yet here she was. Honestly, it was a nice change of pace to not feel worried for her and her friend’s life for a moment.

She had nearly forgotten the dread she felt when she originally suggested coming here.

And then Aiden spoke up.

“Okay, okay, we’re finally--” Aiden stopped. “Here.” All happiness in his tone had left.

That didn’t sound good. That didn’t sound good at all. Olivia grabbed onto the string of her hoodie and began to pull on it as she slowly peered over Aiden. Standing before him were two graves. Olivia’s eyes were drawn to the shorter one. She trailed down the grave, the coral color fading into a deep shade of red until she stopped at the flowers laying beside a lit, redstone torch.

Olivia held her breath. Jess got close to her as Aiden approached the torch. He grabbed it by it’s barely-scorched base and brought it to his face to blow out the flame. Instead of throwing it away like the last one, he just placed it to the side, only a few feet away from the grave. He wore an expression neither of them have ever seen on him before. Fear? Heartache? Pain.

“We’re here.” He said again. His voice completely devoid of energy. His body was stiff as he walked to the side of the grave, with his hands curled into tight fists and placed at his sides. There was another redstone torch placed in front of the grave to the right, but Aiden didn’t say anything. Olivia took a few small steps forward and gave him a small nod.

As she knelt down in front of the grave--in front of her grave--she heard Aiden tell Jess ‘Come on’, followed by the sound of footsteps growing distant.

She sat alone at her grave.

She didn’t want to read the text. She really didn’t. Isn’t that funny? That was one of the main reasons she wanted to come here. To see if there was a chance she could read about her death, what happened to her, but now that she was here, she was terrified. She looked everywhere else but the epitaph before her. She stared at the small bouquet of flowers on the dirt--the dirt… She noticed it seemed… Messier compared to the other graves. Like someone tried digging through it. The bouquet, though! There was a mix of flowers held together by a red ribbon. Clusters of tiny, magenta flowers, a few pointed, white flowers with many petals, and a type of flower she actually knew the name of: Lilys.

She then brought her gaze up, catching a quick glimpse of her name written in gold, to observe the gems placed into the tombstone. Two orange gems, one yellow, one gold, another maroon, and the gem in the center was amber. They formed an arch around the words in the center.

‘Stop avoiding it.’ She told herself, but she didn’t listen. She turned to Lukas’ grave. She had to see his. She had to. It was right here and--and he’s her friend.

His grave was turquoise and had thin, white stripes that stretched across the top, and seven gems instead of six. Three on each side, and the last gem placed above his epitaph. He was given flowers as well.

The words engraved in the stone read: “LUKAS: Courageous and loyal. An inspiring leader and a brilliant friend.”

Short but wonderful. It was perfect. Reading it over and over again, she thought about just how lucky she and Jess were with having their friend still around. He’s done so much for them. Constantly helping Jess run Beacon Town, aiding the citizens, always visiting her and Axel whenever he got the chance… He could’ve left them during that Witherstorm. He could’ve ditched them at any moment when things got too rough, but he never did.

‘I need to give Lukas a hug when I get back.’ Olivia thought to herself. Lukas could still leave them one day without warning. He could finally get sick of them, die in a brutal fight, or--or end up being kidnapped like this Lukas--Olivia squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head, trying to get those awful thoughts out. Don’t think about that. He’s still alive. He still cares about them. He loves them.

Olivia kept her eyes closed for a moment longer before finally bringing her attention back to her own grave. She forced herself to read the words written for her; “OLIVIA: An intelligent, creative, and hardworking engineer. A bright spark of joy even during the darkest of days.”

Olivia stared at her words. A weird sense of reassurance was arising. She’s never thought highly of herself. She’d sometimes convince herself that others couldn’t tolerate her, and that she was one mistake away from ruining everything. She wondered if this Olivia ever felt a similar way. Was she constantly trying to make sure she said and did the right things? Try to fix any issue immediately so her friends didn’t think she was useless? Always second guessing her own thoughts?

Did this Olivia know her friends always loved her? Or was she riddled with fears and doubts until her sudden end?

‘She died a couple of years ago, didn’t she?’ Olivia tried to recall any mention of her death from Aiden. She wasn’t certain, but whether it was a few years ago, or a few months ago, didn’t change the fact that she died so soon.

She was young.

Younger than her.

To have her life end on an abrupt note… It scared her. It scared her so much. Everything could be taken away one day.

As she sat over her body, she felt her fingers begin to dig into the dirt, like they were trying to reach in and find the other Olivia’s hand. A sick form of curiosity made her want to know more. More about this Olivia. Her life. Her mind. To have a connection with her. It was her body she was sitting over, afterall. Her corpse. Her--

“Olivia?” Jess placed his hand on her shoulder. “Are you doing okay?”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Come on.” Aiden gave Jess a light tap with his hand. He started walking away from Olivia. Jess hesitated. He looked at his friend for a second more before leaving with Aiden.

“We just needa give her some space.” Aiden said.

“Right, totally understand.” Jess wanted to stick around for a few minutes longer to study his friends’ graves, but that could wait. He didn’t want to make Olivia feel like he was breathing down her neck.

Jess thought back to the many instances where his friends’ lives were in danger, when they were so close to being taken away from him. He hated seeing his friends’ lives at stake more than anything; he’d go through Hell and back to protect them, and to be in a place where their deaths became a reality was so hard to wrap his head around.

Lukas left without a trace. No familiar faces to comfort him during his last moments, only enemies looming over him while he was in an unknown place. Just thinking about his fate made Jess worry sick about his Lukas back at home.

It was silent for a few minutes. Only their footsteps filled the void.

“So…” Jess started, wanting to make small talk, “What do the colors for Olivia and Lukas’ graves mean?”

“Olivia’s creativity.” Aiden replied, sounding short. “And Lukas’--” He paused and scanned the cemetery. He took a left turn and continued walking between the graves. “He’s…Don’t make fun of us, but his color stands for friendship.”

“Friendship?” Jess perked up at the word.

“I know, it’s probably super cheesy or whatever, but it fits him. It really does.” Aiden said.

“No, no, I completely agree! He’s a great friend--one of the best! If I had to recount all the times he’s been there for me, we’d be here all day.”

“Right. Same here.” They stopped at another grave with another redstone torch in front of it. This grave was short and purple, with many cool-colored gems placed in it. Jess didn’t recognize the name.

Aiden grabbed the torch and blew out the flame. Jess decided to ask another question.

“Any idea why The Awakening puts those torches there?”

“Probably for no good reason.” Aiden answered through gritted teeth as he chucked the wood as hard as he could across the cemetery.

There was something unnerving about the torches left at the grave. Their red glow would take over the colors of the graves, and their light under a thick, cloudy sky would claim your attention and make it hard to pull away. Their soft crackling would fill in the silence whenever he and Aiden didn’t talk; the occasional loud snaps from the flames would make Jess believe there was a threat following them.

Jess stopped at a tombstone and picked up a vase of flowers that had fallen aside. “The gems on their graves, what do they mean? Do you remember ‘em?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure I’d remember what the gems on my own friends’ graves would mean!” Aiden snapped.

“No, I didn’t mean it like that!” Jess held the vase tighter. “I was just--I wanted to know more about them.” Great. Now they’re both feeling terrible.

Aiden’s demeanor softened when he saw Jess’ reaction. “No, it’s okay. I’m sorry. I’ve been--” He hesitated, “I’ve just been thinking about someone is all.”

“No, it’s no problem.” Jess carefully placed the small vase back upright. He folded his arms and joined Aiden’s side.

“I’m uh, still interested to hear bout those gems if you’re wanting to share.” He said.

“Yeah. I can do that for ya.” Aiden answered.

“For Lukas,” Aiden began, walking through the grass. “Gill chose blue. I remember that one’s loyalty. Gold for compassion. White for safety--he’d always double check our belongings every time to make sure we were prepared.”

Aiden stopped and grabbed a torch, “It was kinda annoying, but I miss it now.” He blew it out and threw the wood.

They kept moving.

“Rose picked pink.” Aiden started running his fingers over the grave tops, “She was real embarrassed when she chose it. Kept refusing to show us cause she thought we’d laugh at her.”

“I’m guessing pink’s for love?” Jess said, trying to make sure he wouldn’t trample any flowers.

“Yeah, and--” Aiden chuckled, “Rose wanted his description to be: Pretty blond dork with a decent sense of style. All of us were actually on board with it.”

“Did you end up pulling through with it?” Jess asked.

“Nah, the guys making the grave wouldn’t allow it.” Aiden spotted a couple of gravestones with torches by them. They were already burnt out. He grabbed two of the torches while Jess grabbed the last.

“What a bunch of killjoys.” Jess joked. Aiden laughed as he prepared to throw the burnt wood. Jess mimicked each step of Aiden’s. Hold, aim, then throw. Once they lost sight of the rubbish, they followed the dirt path to the entrance of the cemetery.

The cemetery wasn’t boxed in by hedges like the park, instead, it had a stone wall.

Aiden leaned against the wall. It didn’t look like the most comfortable surface--the rocks were jagged and would probably fall apart in moments--but he seemed unaffected by it. Jess stood nearby and took a peek through the gate beside them. Unlike the rough, uneven walls, the black fence was tall, sturdy, and had a huge, elegantly curved arch.

“Olivia’s got a few similar gems,” Aiden started, putting his hands in his pocket, “Two golds, yellow… She’s got amber--Man, I always mix those three up. They sound different enough but when they’re placed by each other, they all look the same. Amber’s slightly darker than yellow, but not as dark as gold. Amber’s positivity.”

“Lotta happy ones for her.” Jess commented. He’d been staring at the decorated buildings through the gate’s bars as he listened. He could spot bits of pots filled with flowers on the other side of the wall, their colors as eye-catching as the cemetery.

“Always made us happy.” Aiden said with a shrug. “She also had… Ah…” He pressed his lips together, “Orange! She had that one too. And then there’s…” He had to stop to think again.

“It’s not… Well, it looks like red, but it’s darker… Ah, shoot.” Aiden cursed to himself.

“Carmine? Maroon?” Jess tilted his head.

Aiden snapped his fingers, “Maroon! Right! Creativity; same thing as her grave. Picked it myself.” He said rather proudly.

“You guys really cared about her.” Jess mumbled. He tilted his head towards Aiden, “And I’m sure Olivia loved you guys all the same.”

Aiden stared back at him.

A small smile spread across his face, “Thanks.”

The two became quiet and looked over the array of colorful graves before them. The clouds slowly began to part; gems glistened as the rays of sun shone down on them.

“Should we check on Olivia now?” Jess asked after a few minutes of silence.

Aiden got off the stone wall and stretched his back, “Yeah, let’s go.”

~ ~ ~ ~

When the two returned to Olivia, the last thing they wanted to see was to see her in distress. The tips of her fingers were shoved into the dirt below, her eyes were stuck on the golden words in front of her, her mouth was parted--barely moving--with no voice to match. Jess couldn’t tell if she was trembling or not, but she was scared. Very scared.

Jess bit his lip and approached his friend. Aiden was right behind.

“Olivia?” Jess placed his hand on her shoulder, “Are you doing okay?”

Olivia jumped and jerked her hands out of the dirt.

“Yes--! Yeah, no, no don’t worry, I’m fine. Thanks--thank you for checking on me.” She replied frantically. She took deep breaths.

Before Jess could question anything, Olivia spoke up.

“Aiden, this uh--the substance mixed into the stone,” Her fingers trailed down the tombstone, “is it redstone dust?”

Her voice was shaky.

Aiden glanced at Jess, who was equally nervous as him, then said, “Actually, it is.”

He took a step closer to Olivia, “They don’t usually allow people to mix stuff like redstone or glowstone dust with the colors--especially cause they’re hard to find--but they made an exception for us.”

Olivia nodded along, blinking back tears.

Jess read her epitaph, “Guess all Olivia’s are just the greatest engineers out there, huh?”

“Damn right. She didn’t have a bunch of dust to work with, but she’d still crank out machine after machine like no tomorrow.” Aiden said, “Man, I remember every year for her birthday that’d be all she’d ever ask for. Not weapons, not new journals, not even a dang cake, just redstone dust. Course, the only places you could find ‘em were in caves or old shrines, right?” He asked while facing Lukas’ grave and grabbing the lit redstone torch below.

“Yup, we found a bunch of it yesterday.” Jess said, sitting besides Olivia.

“Right, and since it was so dangerous, she told us to not worry bout gettin’ it because ‘It’d be stupid to risk your life for some red powder’.” Aiden gestured with the torch, the flame getting frighteningly close to his hair.

“Well, I’d always lose track of dates and forget to get her a gift, so one of the other guys would back me up and tell Olivia we bought a gift ‘together’, and I felt so bad.” He thankfully blew out the fire after saying that.

“So then guess what I did one day?” Aiden said.

“Walked out and found a bag of redstone on the ground?” Jess asked sarcastically.

Aiden laughed, “I wish.”

Aiden began pacing, the trail of smoke whirling around him, “But I decided I’d bust into one of those dumb shrine and find some dust for her, and I didn’t tell anyone bout it besides Jesse. He was on board with the plan, he was great at findin’ stuff, plus two people finding dust was much easier than one.” Aiden fiddled with the burnt wood, “We headed off to the nearest shrine and actually found enough dust to fill up a bag and a half, but cause of the state of that dump, some rooms would collapse after you opened the door!”

“You two ended up getting hurt, didn’t you?” Olivia had her hand on her head, already concerned over the direction of this story.

“Course we did!” Aiden threw his arms up. “I swear anytime the two of us were together, things would fall apart or we’d break a bone--” Aiden stopped his talking to quickly chuck the wood away. “Anyways, anyways, we got back home right on time for Olivia’s birthday and man did we look awful. Clothes were all dirty, got some real bad scrapes on my knees, Jesse grabbed so much dust it looked like his fingers were covered in blood, and I somehow got a black eye? I think the top of a chest smacked me...”

Olivia rubbed her temples, “You two really shouldn’t have risked your lives over a birthday present--”

“That’s exactly what she said!” Aiden exclaimed, “Went through all that trouble, and you know how she reacted?”

“Panicked?” Olivia asked.

“Bet she loved it.” Jess said, giving Olivia a nudge.

“She did--but Hero did she freak out! Dropped her cake and rushed over to get us cleaned up. Olivia was wrapping up one of Jesse’s arms--” Aiden thought to himself for a second, “--I think a big rock landed on it? But she was going off on us. Raising her voice and lecturing us like she was our mom, telling us it’s a miracle we were still in one piece, and why in Hero’s name we did something so stupid.”

“I mean, it wasn’t stupid if things worked out for you.” Jess pointed out.

“Yeah, but still.” Aiden chuckled, “It was stupid. It was so, so stupid. But after that, she loved our present. I’d never seen her smile so much. She was working on her machinery, telling me and Jesse how everything worked while we pretended to understand.”

Aiden carefully leaned on Olivia’s grave, “Hero knows I didn’t understand a single thing she was sayin’, but seeing her so happy…” His smile grew as his voice softened, “It was great.”

“That’s all so sweet…” Olivia spoke softly. “I love it.”

She was shaking again.

Jess turned to his friend to mention something, but stopped when he saw Olivia staring at the ground, fingers picking at the dirt just like she was when they came back. That same, terrified expression on her face.

“Liv--?” Jess mumbled, but Olivia started rambling nonsense.

“I don’t know if my words mean much to you--I know I’m not her--but you’re a good friend, Aiden.” Her nails started to dig into the ground, “All of this, all that you’ve done for Olivia--you--you--Even when I just--” She kept stumbling over her words, “Even when she died one day you kept being so kind to me--”

The more she kept talking, the more concerned--the more scared--Aiden and Jess became.

“Hey, hey are you alright?” Jess reached out to hold her, but Olivia shot her head back up.

“I’m under here.” She whispered. Her voice was so unsteady.

Jess was taken aback, “What?”

“I’m under here.” She said again. “I’m so close.”

Her hand began to claw at the dirt, “I’m so close. My body’s all mangled up in that box below, and--and my hair’s so long now.” She felt sick talking about this, she felt sick thinking about it. “It’d be so easy to just dig myself up. For Aiden to see her again. Jesse--Jess, we’re so close. I could look at myself. Look at my body. I’m--”

“Olivia!” Jess shook her, “Do you want to get out of here?”

Aiden wanted to offer his support, but Olivia instantly got on her feet.

“Yes. Yes I want to leave. I want to go home.” She kept repeating that last sentence while she hugged herself, breathing heavily. She was freezing.

“Right, we need to head back anyways.” Aiden’s stomach was in knots seeing Olivia like this. His hands turned to fists, “I should’ve known better. I shouldn’t have taken you here. I’m sorry--”

“Don’t.” Olivia cut in. “I wanted to go. You took me. I saw--I saw what I needed to. I appreciate it. Thank you.” She was stiff as a board.

Olivia took one last deep breath, “Let’s go home.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Damn them.

Damn them all.

Locked every damn door and window in this house. They’re hiding her, he knows they’re hiding her.

Did they really think locking themselves in would stop him? He used to live in this Hero forsaken house; he knows every nail, screw, and plank that makes up this despicable place.

He still remembers that trapdoor on the roof. He knows how to claw his way up there. He’ll pry it open with his own bare hands.

He’ll find her.

He will.

#mcsm #minecraft story mode #mcsm aiden #mcsm jesse #mcsm olivia #THANK U ENORMOUS THIC THANK U TO FRIEND IVY!!!#for reading this over and helping...... appreciate it all VERY much....#HOPE YOU ENJOY!!!#will add more tags in later!!!!! in rush right now dhfgnfdgfngd

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blue-lothus · 3 years

Text

Breathe

Summary: It was a misunderstanding, really. But because of it, Akira found himself banished to work at the ship of the terrible captain Kamoshida. But before he could start serving his time, he met a merman, and somehow got both of them thrown in the brig, with a death sentence on their heads.

Or, how Akira saved a merman, got a best friend, fell in love a little bit, and went on an adventure.

Or how it’s @grapeflavoredorange ‘s birthday, and I wanted to write something nice for this amazing person, who wrote amazing things for my favorite pairing. I took the idea from one of our conversations, about how in the sims 4 a mermaid’s kiss gives you the ability to breathe underwater for a few hours.

It was an odd day, the atmosphere felt charged and unnatural. It was raining softly, but the grey clouds were dense, looming over his head. A young man with a mop of rebellious black hair sat at the bay, passively watching the horizon, and the sea.

The rain started to fall harder, and that was the only thing that made him move from his spot.

Akira wasn’t really sure how he even ended up there. The last weeks of his life felt like a bad dream, all disconnect feelings and sudden events that made no sense at all.

How did he end up convicted and then condemned to serve his time on a poacher’s ship?

A year on the sea, for a boy who should have just continued his family business and run a farm.

He sighed under the small shelter he found from the rain.

There was movement in the water, something bright and golden flashing quickly and then vanishing. Gone almost as soon as it appeared, a flash of colour in the white haze of the copious rain. It was pouring at this point, and it was impossible to tell what was that, from where he stood.

Akira had always been too curious for his own good.

He approached, silent as a cat, and leaned over the wooden plates of the pier. For his absolute shock, he found someone staring back at him.

It was beautiful. It looked like a he. His hair was golden and unnatural. But his eyes were a gentle brown, almost human, if his teeth weren’t so sharp. If his hair wasn’t so odd. There weren’t any humanoid creatures around these parts of the ocean, except for merfolk.

This one was surely pretty enough to be one of them. And then, the fact that he was still swimming in that weather was surely proof that he wasn’t afraid of drowning. It was just… a weird place to see one of them. They usually hid from humans, since they started being hunted.

“What were you doing so close to the ship- wait, sorry. You probably have no idea what I’m saying.” Akira shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. It was a well known fact that merfolk didn’t speak human language.

The creature frowned, seemingly deeply offended.

“I’m not dumb. I can speak your dumb language.”

“I didn’t- I mean…” Akira blinked, startled. The creature sounded a bit strange, but he was fluent enough.

“You can stop the bullshit, ok? Kamoshida knows I can speak, and anyone from his crew knows it too.”

“I don’t even know this Kamoshida person. I’m not a poacher. I just got assigned here today.”

The aggression immediately left those brown eyes.

“Oh. I guess it makes sense then.” The blond looked around, swimming in place. “I was just passing by and saw his ship and I thought of throwing some rocks at this stupid thing so it might stall him a bit.”

Akira leaned closer, trying to hear the blond through the thunderous noise of the rain splattering hard around them.

Later, Akira would want to smack himself in the head for being so stupid. It should be so obvious what was going to happen. But they were both distracted, and the rain was too loud to allow them to hear fickle things like footsteps. Akira just noticed when something blocked the partial daylight, a shadow just behind him.

“Who do we have here?”

It was a man’s voice, but Akira didn’t recognize it. The blond, however, seemed to do. His brown eyes got wide, and he immediately yelled:

“It’s Kamoshida, run!”

Akira did turn to run away, but he was a bit too late for that, and the blunt handle of a saber came down hard on his head.

He was too dizzy to see how the merman stopped a second too long when it heard him crying out.

He did hear a pained scream not long after, and then something heavy being brought on board of the ship, still trashing.

“This damned monster, now I finally got him.” Akira heard, and he felt his chest tight with worry. Of course. The captain hunted merfolk. He noticed the hat, and the nicer clothes. Kamoshida was the name of the captain of the ship he had been assigned to.

Kamoshida’s eyes turned to him. “And of course this scum here would turn out to be a mutineer. I knew he was bad news, when my friend asked me for him to join this crew.” And Akira was fairly certain Kamoshida wasn’t ever going to give him a chance.

“I was invited to an important event at the next port so I’ll wait to hand you over to the authorities in the next town.” Kamoshida went on, and Akira’s head was pounding already, and he wished he wasn’t so dizzy otherwise he’d have decked the captain’s stupid face just to get him to shut up.

“And you… I might already have a buyer in potential. If you live that long that is.”

It was clearly a petty vengeance coming from a pitiful man who cared more about humiliating others than he could care about money. He cared about having power over others, and he’d enjoy watching them squirm in place.

Akira was thrown in the brig, and heard the lock clicking heavily. He cursed under his breath, looking around.

There was a metal container there, filled with water and fixed to the floor with screws. It was occupied, unfortunately.

The merman he saw earlier looked in agony, his breathing shallow and fast. The harpoon had caught him by a few inches, and had been torn free of him as he struggled. What remained was an open wound on the side of his tail, ragged edges bleeding a startling red blood.

His scales were a gentle shade of gold. It seemed to gleam faintly in an ethereal way even under the dim light. It was this bit heartbreaking to see something this beautiful with a wound like that.

“I just wanna help.” He held his hands up, in what he hoped was a reassuring gesture.

The creature bared its teeth, snarling. He had very sharp teeth, indeed. Clearly made to tear flesh.

“It’s okay,” he said, trying to calm himself down, because if the merman was going to survive, Akira would have to do something to help. Kamoshida would clearly enjoy watching the specimen die slowly.

Akira reached a hand out.

The merman snapped his mouth, threatening a vicious bite.

The venom was known to paralyze its victim in a few seconds. Painful. Probably deadly, but as far as Akira knew merfolk liked to eat its food while it was still alive, so no one really knew if the venom was fatal.

Those who bought merfolk as exotic pets usually had them muzzled most of the time. Sedated when not. Some pulled off all of their teeth and used it as decoration.

A few tried to get rid of their vocal chords, because they hated the shrills merfolk made.

“C’mon, we need to get that treated. You don’t wanna give Kamoshida the satisfaction of actually killing you.”

That earned him a startled blink from the merman, followed by a resentful glare pointed at the door, where he last saw the captain.

“You’re right.” He seemed to deflate, and allowed Akira to come closer.

“So… if you don’t wanna hunt merfolk, why are you here?” The blond asked in a voice that trembled in pain, but he was bravely pretending otherwise.

Akira found himself telling it all. Maybe because it was the first friendly contact he had since he got arrested. Maybe because the blond made him feel oddly at ease. But as Akira tried his best to stop the bleeding using his own shirt, he started talking about before.

His tale had the merit of distracting the merman from the pain. When the blood stopped overflowing, and as he finished tying off the cloth around the wound, the blond was entirely caught up with the story.

“That’s horrible! It wasn’t fair. I can’t believe they did that to you. And now you got caught up with Kamoshida’s shit.”

Akira blinked, feeling a curious pressure on his throat. It was the first time anyone told him that. It was the first time anyone really looked at him after he was labeled a criminal.

But it made some sense, that another one that was seen as inherently evil and wicked would understand him. They both knew what humans could do to those they deemed too different.

“So… I’m guessing you’ve met Kamoshida personally before this.” Akira was curious about the merman’s reaction at seeing the man, and the disgust in his face at just uttering his name.

“Yeah. He kinda got me once already. He almost caught me and a group of my friends. But I stayed behind and gave them the alarm, and Kamoshida caught me and broke my tail. Sent me back just so all the others would see what happened to those who tried to save one another. He’s trying to divide us, so he can have an easier time catching us.” And he had already broken that one specimen, it wouldn’t be worth that much in the market. But it’d kept the others afraid enough.

“That’s... that’s horrible,” Akira breathed out.

The merman fell silent, and it was just then that Akira noticed how quiet everything was. The late afternoon had probably turned into night without him realizing it. The ship was rocking slightly, a bit differently from when they were at the shore. With a pang of anxiety, Akira realized they had set sail.

There was no way out, and the ship was silent as a tomb as the night grew late. Akira was glad for having company.

Until the next port at least. And then the merman would be sold off, and Akira would be handed over to the authorities and arrested.

They had little to occupy their days, but they had each other, at least. Theyplayed games, and talked, about nothing and everything.

“What do you miss the most, from back home?” Akira asked, one day.

“My mom. You?”

“I don’t think I have anything to go back to.”

Over the days, Akira learned that his new friend’s name was a couple of whistles he had no idea on how to pronounce. He was feeling a bit self conscious about his inability to say it, but the blond looked very frustrated as well as he tried saying his own name.

“Air is so weird,” the merman complained, trying saying his name again and just ended up producing some hisses.

Since he couldn’t tell his proper name out of the water, the blond insisted on Akira suggesting some human names that would fit him. He got into his head that it’d be cool to have another name. He was also extremely picky, and wanted something that sounded cool enough, and that had a relevant meaning.

After many names were discarded, one day, he settled on one.

“Ryuji. I like the sound of that. And I like that it was a warrior’s name. Ok, I’m Ryuji!”

Ryuji had a lot of scars. As if he had cut his back hitting his back on a sharp rock. A slightly crooked finger. A cut next to his eyebrow. Akira had expected for merfolk to have smooth and unblemished skin, but Ryuji wasn’t like that.

Akira wondered why he couldn’t find the blond any less pretty because of that. It was probably the smile. Ryuji had a beautiful smile, and a cute laugh.

Akira had never heard him singing, and he wondered if it was true their voice could put spells on people. His breathless laughter seemed to have a similar effect.

On that day, Ryuji started on the measly breakfast Kamoshida deemed to offer the prisoners, namely, a portion of fish.

“So… does your kind eat humans?” Akira asked, while he was gently washing the wound with what he could spare of the small supply of fresh water they were offered. Fortunately, merfolk seemed to have a much better time recovering from wounds, because it didn’t look infected. Could it be the seawater? Akira had so many questions. It was partially because he had never met a merman before, but it was also a lot just because he wanted to get to know Ryuji better.

The blond hummed as he acknowledged his question. Akira wondered if he should’ve started from another topic. He didn’t mean to sound judgemental. He really should try to improve his social skills...

“Some of us do,” Ryuji answered easily, seemingly unbothered by Akira’s bluntness. “Well, we’re all carnivores, and we are kinda similar to fishes, and humans, but we’re not those things. We wouldn’t eat another merfolk, but humans and fishes ain’t merfolk,” he reasoned. “Oh, but I’ve never eaten a human.”

He was born and raised on that specific part of the ocean, where hunting merfolk was pretty common, so it wasn’t really worth it to any of them to go after humans while in their original form. But they still learned human language so they could trick sailors into thinking they didn’t capture a mermaid, it was just that drunk lad over there who thought he saw a fishtail but he was wrong can’t you see my human legs and how I speak? Please let me go. “That’s kinda those poachers’ fault, tho.”

Akira looked thoughtful, but not afraid, and he didn’t stop treating his wound. Ryuji felt a swell of affection for that boy, so human and fragile, but so daring. So reckless. He’d probably try to befriend anything partially capable of understanding his words. And get his kind hand bitten by the creature. Mangled beyond recognition. Ryuji felt an uncomfortable twinge in his chest.

“I’d never eat you, tho.”

Akira tilted his head, apparently surprised.

“Why not?”

“Well, it’s like if you had a friendly... what do you guys eat for meat?”

“Fish as well. Duck. Pig. Rabbits.”

“Well imagine you had a fish as a pet. Or this pig you said. You think of it as your friend right? You wouldn’t eat it. You wouldn’t wanna.”

Akira huffed a laugh.

“What?! I’m being serious here, y’know?”

“Thanks.”

“What the hell…” he said, but he was laughing too, and Akira felt his heart beating a little too fast inside his chest.

At night, the chilly wind from outside passed through the gaps of the wood, dropping the temperature to an uncomfortable amount. Ryuji ran colder anyway, used to the water temperature of that region, so it took him a few nights to notice Akira wasn’t fairing very well. He woke up in the middle of the night to a small wound.

Akira’s naked torso shuddered as he drew in a breath. His shirt was being used as a makeshift bandage for the merman’s injured tail, and his ragged pants were made of a cheap and too thin fabric.

Ryuji gets out of the water then, lying down next to Akira.

“Will you be okay out of the water?”

Ryuji startled a little at hearing Akira’s voice, not having expected him to still be awake at that hour. But he supposed it was hard to fall asleep when he was that cold.

“If it dries up, after half an hour or so, my tail just changes into legs and I look like a human. I only need a few minutes in the water for it to come back, though.” The blond shrugged, coming closer and blocking a bit of the wind. “I’ve heard not all merfolk can do that, but our species around here can. My grandma says back in the day we used that to charm humans and trick them into falling in love with us. But I don’t know if it’s true.”

Akira considered the concept for a while, then made the very important math that soon enough Ryuji would be naked. Human naked. Of course Ryuji was kind of naked before, but that was different. Akira considered his options. Under his pants he was still using loose shorts as underwear. He could perfectly do without his pants, since his shorts came down to almost his knees. It wasn’t that proper, but who was he trying to impress anyway? It was more important not to have his attractive friend walking around naked.

“What you doing?” Ryuji curiously asked as he saw Akira getting up and taking off his pants.

“You can wear this when you get your legs. I-it can get a bit cold when you have legs,” he said, even if it was an excuse.

Ryuji shrugged, but seemed to believe his words, and kept the clothing in his hands.

They stayed close together, Ryuji trying to trap in a bit of Akira’s body heat. He’d probably be more comfortable in the water, which made Akira feel a bit guilty.

If the blond could make it to water, he could get away. Merfolk could swim miles, and too fast for any ship to pursue if they started running away, which was why they were mostly caught by using traps and other underhanded methods.

“What if I thought of a way to return you to the sea?” Akira asked quietly. “I could make a distraction and buy you a few minutes to swim away.”

Ryuji hesitated for a moment. It wasn’t something he liked to talk about, but then again, he trusted Akira.

“... I don’t think I’d get very far.”

“Why not?” Akira asked softly.

You know you can tell me anything.

Ryuji knew it. It felt a bit shameful anyway.

What’s a merman worth if he cannot even swim properly?

“I’m not… I mean, I can still swim, but I’m really slow. After… Kamoshida broke my tail, I couldn’t swim as before. I’m slow and I tire easily,” he admitted, looking away, missing the crushed look on Akira’s eyes as he realized the extent of the damage Kamoshida had inflicted on his friend. “Sometimes I think I should give up on the sea.”

“But you love it, right?”

Ryuji wasn’t used to anyone being able to look at him and… see him. It was incredibly nice, even if it made his heart hurt a little.

“Yeah, I do.”

They were silent for a few more minutes. The tiniest window on the opposite side of their cell allowed for a stream of moonlight. Akira contemplated it for a bit, until he heard Ryuji hissing, and he turned to look.

His hair was still messy and spiky, but it was tinted a common black, and his teeth were rounded and human. His canines still looked a little too sharp, but it was mostly imperceptible.

Akira very firmly didn’t look down.

Ryuji noticed him staring at his face, and he half smiled, making a valiant effort into putting on that piece of clothing Akira offered. It felt weird on his skin. He put one leg in one hole, and the other in the other hole, and pulled the cloth up. Then, he tied again the bandage around his newly formed leg. The wound looked more gruesome on his human skin, located somewhere close to his shin.

“So… how do I look?” he asked as he finished putting on the ragged clothing, and dressing his wound on his leg.

“You look like a thug.”

“Hey!”

Akira huffed a laugh, and Ryuji laughed back.

He took a moment to look at Akira’s eyes, the gentle curve of his nose, the pale pink of his lips. Ryuji’s heart did a funny thing in his chest when he did that last thing. Akira wetted his lips after a moment, and Ryuji looked away as quick as he could, his heart jackrabbiting against his ribs.

When he thought he had escaped that weird feeling in his chest, Akira’s deep and smooth voice sounded again, and Ryuji’s heart continued racing. It started doing that lately, when Akira did or said some things.

“I barely know how to swim,” Akira offered with a shrug. “I mean, I don’t think I’d drown if I fell in the water, but I wouldn’t last much there.” He could dog paddle and that was about it. Did it work? Yes, but that surely as hell wasn’t meant to be done for more than a couple of minutes.

Swimming wasn’t something he was expecting to need in his life, since his parents owned a farm, but then again since when his life went according to the plan?

Ryuji perked up at the information, though.

“I could teach you! You may need it someday! It’s… everything is so heavy outside of the water. You can’t go up, you have always to walk on the stupid ground and it’s…” He just couldn’t find words to tell. “Swimming is just the best thing. And the fastest you go, the better it feels. It can be useful even when you go back home.”

“I’d like that.” Akira’s gaze was far away, and he sounded oddly melancholic.

“Yeah… anyway, after we get out of here, we could travel the world together.”

“You… Will you want to stay with me? Even after you’re free to go?”

“‘Course. We’re friends, and I think it’d be awesome to go on an adventure, and help people on our way.” And he would have a chance to finally feel worthy, and to make his mom proud of him.

And there was no one else he’d rather go with on an adventure than with Akira. The realization hit him all at once.

“You’re my friend. And… Y’know how I told ya swimming made me feel? Being with you is kinda the same. I feel free.”

Ryuji aimed a bright smile at him, and Akira felt his heart skipping a beat, tripping over while doing something it should know how to do.

“I know a mermaid,” Ryuji continued, excited about the idea of their new adventure. “She’s travelled to other seas, she might know her way around. After we break out of here, maybe at the next stop for supplies, we could ask her for directions and then when Kamoshida notices we escaped, we’ll be far from his stupid ship.”

Akira nodded, thoughtfully.

“Sounds good.”

“Awesome! Then we have a plan.”

It was the thinnest skeleton of a plan, but it was enough for them. They could always wing it from there.

The day their lives really started to change started off as any other. Ryuji was restlessly sitting on his small container of water as he told stories about his life in the sea. Akira had started teaching him how to properly walk on two legs, in exchange of being taught on how to swim at the next chance they got. They had just stopped their training when they heard a commotion outside.

And then a small tuxedo cat gets thrown in the brig with them, screeching bloody murder. One of the poachers used one side of a manacle to put around its neck, and chained it to the wall just outside their cell. The crewmate looked warily at the animal, and threw the keys inside, hoping that the monster the captain caught would dissuade the cat from trying to get to the keys. Akira found it particularly odd, that anyone would put that much effort into capturing a cat. And found it even more odd that the crewmate somehow thought the cat could escape if he got the key.

The cat screamed well after the crewmate left, and it needed a minute before noticing there were more people in the room.

“Woah! A huge tuna! Looks yummy…” the cat actually talked.

“Gah! Aki, what is that thing?!”

Ryuji grabbed Akira’s arm, hiding slightly behind him and glaring at the newcomer. Just in case- he had never seen this cat thing before, but apparently it thought he was food because he had a fish tail- the blond leapt off the container, hoping to get his legs back soon.

“Huh… a cat. But I’ve never seen a talking cat before.”

“And I’ve never seen a talking tuna before.”

“Cat, stop saying my friend looks like a tuna.” Akira didn’t know enough about fish to tell, but Ryuji’s tail didn’t look like a tuna's tail.

“I’m not a cat and I have a proper name.” The cat tried to stand a little taller, but the metal of the manacles was suffocating him a bit. “I’m Morgana.”

They blinked at him. Akira knew he should have started to expect the unexpected since he befriended a merman, but seeing a talking cat was still weird.

“So… will you two let me out? Please, I can help you two as well!”

Ryuji hesitated.

“I dunno… Should we trust him, Aki?”

The cat looked quite miserable, and Akira pondered his options. He hated to see how they trapped such a small animal, and if the cat was imprisoned like them, he probably was an enemy of Kamoshida. Something in his guts told him it was an important decision, and that he kind of knew what he would be choosing from the start.

He really hoped he didn’t regret that choice.

He freed the cat, who took his time to stretch its lean spine and flex his legs. But, true to his word, Morgana leapt up and started trying to pick the keys to their cell from the hook where they hung. He had to insist for a few minutes, but he eventually got them and picked it up with his mouth, treading to their cell.

“There! It wasn’t a bad deal, was it?” He preened, while Akira made a quick job of opening the cell.

“But now what, cat?” Ryuji sullenly asked.

“There’s a storm coming pretty soon, you dumbasses. I’ve been roaming this ship since we left the port, I know the crewmate’s schedules, so we can sneak around them. And then you two can swim to the shore, we’re not that far away, but they won’t notice you’re gone, and they wouldn’t go after you in this weather.”

“What about you?”

“I still have some business here, but I can get out when we reach land. I can hide, I just got caught this time because the stupid captain got up at night out of nowhere…”

“Whaddya think, Aki?”

“Well, I think it’s the better shot we’ll have. I think we can manage to swim, if we’re that close to land. You can swim as slow as you need, and I won’t have to swim a big distance, I think it’s doable. After that, we can hide for a bit, and then go after your friend and ask for directions, and then we’ll see what happens.”

Ryuji nodded, and they all waited until he got his legs again and dressed up, and then they were on the run.

They parted ways with the cat somewhere along a corridor, with instructions about how to get on the deck.

The storm was fierce, having picked up in a matter of minutes, and Akira barely managed to keep upright as the ship lurched to the side. They emerged from below deck to the howling wind and thundering skies. Ryuji faltered, his leg still hurting from the wound, and from using muscles he wasn’t used to.

When the blond crashed into a few crates, they swayed to the side and slid downstairs just to crash into a door. The captain’s door, by the look of it, but they were sprinting on the slippery wood of the deck and running for their lives.

But of course, they weren’t alone above deck.

“They’re running away!”

The storm was sending huge waves that were washing over the wooden floor, tilting the ship in absurd angles, making it absolutely impossible to run. Akira froze in place, and whirled around to look at any possible weapons. Maybe if he took down that group of sailors, before anyone else noticed, on the off chance no one heard the alarm over the roaring of the storm-

It was then that Kamoshida showed up.

“Shoot them!”

Ryuji collided against his side, and the world tilted off its axis as they plunged into the water.

Akira tried to keep his head above the crashing waves, but he only managed to swallow an entire mouthful of seawater. As another wave passed above his head, his body was thrown to the side.

As he tried to swim up, he realized he couldn’t tell up from down even with his eyes wide open. The water was too deep and his lungs burned for air. Everything was salty water that burned his eyes and constricted his lungs from the outside.

The stormy sea at night was every bit as terrifying as he had heard about, and he was lost.

Ryuji’s voice was forming a series of shrills and clickings but everything was drowned out by the roaring in his ears.

Akira shook his head desperatedly, not understanding a single sound out of Ryuji’s mouth, his lungs spasming as he couldn’t hold his breath anymore.

His panic was suddenly cut off by soft lips on his mouth, strong hands framing his face gently. His heart swelled, and it was the sweetest thing he had ever tasted.

It was entirely like a breath of air.

Akira instinctively closed his eyes and let himself savour it, feeling a sudden rush of life running down his whole body.

There was a gentle thumb caressing his cheek, and suddenly Akira forgot entirely about menial things like air. His hands cradled the hands on his face, and he kissed back because he had sort of been wanting to do that for weeks.

It felt absolutely amazing.

They pulled apart, and Akira remembered again he was still underwater.

Ryuji’s lips mouthed human words for him, gesticulating his meaning.

Breathe.

Akira realised then and there that he really trusted Ryuji with his life. He tried to breathe.

It was the weirdest sensation ever. He shouldn’t be able to do that. But somehow as the water rushed into his mouth, his lungs stopped hurting as if he had taken a breath of fresh air.

Ryuji pulled him along, swimming slower than ever with his still human legs, away from the ship. After a minute or two, he got his tail back, and then he started to swim more easily. He brought them away from the eye of the storm, and away from Kamoshida, deciding to take the longer way to the shore, just in case.

They slowly made their way back to the surface, and when they emerged, Akira immediately turned to look at the merman. He felt a lot conscious of the fact that Ryuji’s strong arms were keeping him afloat. They were also really close, and Akira felt his cheeks flushing.

“W-what? How did I…?” It was raining softly over their heads, but he barely noticed.

How am I alive?

“A-a mermaid kiss can make you able to breathe underwater for some hours.”

“O-oh.” So Ryuji was just trying to help. Akira felt oddly disappointed. “Thanks.”

“A-anytime?” As soon as the words left his lips- that felt like they were still tingling with the kiss- Ryuji realised how much he meant it.

“Really?”

And Ryuji wondered if he imagined the small spark of hope in Akira’s voice. On the off chance he had been right, he decided to push it a little bit.

“Yeah. I liked it.”

Akira’s lips curled into a small smile, but he looked a little embarrassed, a blush still high on his cheeks.

“... You know, I think I’m still feeling a little out of breath.”

“For real?!” Ryuji blinked, confused. It should have worked! Maybe he didn’t kiss him right?

Akira huffed a laugh.

“No.”

“Then what- oh. Oh.” Realization dawned on him all at once, and Ryuji felt his heart soaring.

“Ok?” Akira asked.

Ryuji excitedly jumped him, and his kiss tasted like the sea.

Akira couldn’t stop himself from smiling throughout that kiss and the next one, and the next one.

If they kept that up, he’d have enough in him to spend his whole life living in the sea and never come up for air ever again.

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himikiyo · 3 years

Text

kerosene lemonade // himikiyo week day 4

Himikiyo Week Day 4: Soulmates + Enemies

“Oh my, I suppose you’ve caught me, haven’t you?” Shinguuji asks languidly, gazing up at her. “But what will you do now with me at your mercy?”

The group decides that Korekiyo, a known murderer, can't be allowed to move freely around the academy. Himiko ends up as their guard.

Read on AO3, DRA, or under the cut.

“We aren’t trying to be cruel,” Himiko says weakly, head pounding from the frustration of having had this same conversation several times already. “It’s not like that. It’s just for everyone’s safety.”

“Hmm, is that so?” Shinguuji responds, just as she expected. Just as they had all the previous times. “Or is it just what you’re attempting to convince yourselves of? From an outsider’s perspective, I wouldn’t call your actions anything resembling merciful. Particularly not Momota-kun and Iruma-san’s.” They shift slightly and wince at the movement. Himiko can’t say for certain whether it’s staged.

“I...I don’t agree with the way they did things, but...” She trails off, hands subconsciously bunching into fists at her sides. The tension is unbearable, and she can’t entirely figure out why yet.

Shinguuji breaks the pattern. In their earlier conversations, they goaded her further, trying to coax out a slip of the tongue or contradiction in her views. Now, they don’t respond verbally at all, bringing a hand to their side. They look at her, eyes cold and calculating. Trying to guess at her reaction? They must be satisfied with what they find, because they tear their gaze away from her. A bandaged hand hitches up their jacket and shirt just enough to inspect a truly nasty bruise blooming along their side.

It’s more of a contusion, really, already a sickly, mottled pattern of black and blue despite being less than a day old. It’s hard to be sure without getting closer, but she can almost make out a bootprint. She must make a sound without meaning to, a gasp or similar, because their eyes immediately shoot over to her again and they rearrange their clothes to hide the injury.

“Am I restricted from whatever passes for medical care in this place?” they ask, voice deadly sharp.

“Wh— Of course not,” she insists. “I keep telling you, it’s not like that. Not for me anyway. The only reason I volunteered to be the one watching you in the first place was—” She cuts herself off, looking away.

“Was what?”

She didn’t (still doesn’t) want something like that to happen again. Iruma kicking them, Momota getting in a good punch. No matter what Shinguuji did, that kind of thing isn’t warranted. Not if they have any desire to keep the moral high ground. She doesn’t say that though, reticent to admit to anything that could be interpreted as fondness for them.

“No one’s stopping you from taking care of it,” she mutters instead. “Do you want ice?”

“You aren’t afraid I might find a way to escape while you’re gone?” They bat their eyelashes in mocking innocence, seemingly exchanging the spitefulness for that. Ever since the trial, their behavior is far more unpredictable than before. Whether they are unable or simply unwilling to rein themselves in again, it’s hard for her to say.

“You know what’ll happen if you do.” She doesn’t take pleasure in threatening them, but it’s the truth. The rest of their surviving classmates would gladly heap more intense forms of punishment on them if given half a chance, save perhaps Gonta.

“Only if I’m found.”

“You think you’ll be able to hide forever? I doubt it.” She doesn’t realize exactly what she said until they point it out.

“Forever, hm? Does that mean you’ve given up on any hope of us escaping this place?”

“I...I don’t know. That’s not the point.”

“Then would you be so kind as to clarify what the point is, if not that?” Their hand cups their cheek in a familiar gesture, though something about it seems to be done more gingerly than usual. That would make sense. Momota punched them pretty hard.

“The point is you aren’t going to figure out a way to sneak out when I’m not looking. Right?”

The way they slump against their desk slightly is, she figures, the closest to agreement she’s going to get.

She nods despite the lack of response, double checking her pocket for the key before stepping out. Iruma had been the one to modify their door to be lockable from the outside, allowing them to be imprisoned in their own dorm room. As the one on watch, so to speak, Himiko has custody of the key, control over their ability to participate in the miniature society the rest of the academy has become.

She doesn’t like having that much control over them, she realizes. Something about it is tantalizing and sickening all at once.

By the time she gets back with an ice pack, painkillers, and a nighttime snack, Shinguuji has moved from the desk to the bed and no farther. They barely look up when she enters, displaying no desire to pull any tricks like forcing their way through while the door is open. Her stomach twists.

“I brought the ice,” she says uselessly, setting everything down on the edge of the desk before backing away. She doesn’t dare get too close to the bed, like there’s a force field keeping her away.

“More than that, it seems.” Their eyes track her movement, stopping on the plate of food. It isn’t much, just what she could grab in the last moments before the dining hall closed for the night. Hardly anyone had dinner after the trial — no appetite.

“It’s nothing,” she mumbles. “I thought you might be hungry.”

Shinguuji’s hand drifts up in the direction of their face, then pauses.

“Your hospitality is appreciated. However, I think it’s time for you to go get some sleep, yes? Surely our friends,” and she thinks they put a special emphasis on that word just to get under her skin, “don’t expect you to watch over me all night.”

They expect exactly that, actually, but Himiko can tell what they’re trying to say. She can see the way their fingers hover near the edge of their mask. They weren’t executed, but they killed Chabashira all the same. They bragged about all the other girls they killed before, the ones they hope to kill in the future. They included her. There’s no reason to show them mercy.

“You’re right,” she says. “I’m feeling kind of tired.”

“Good night, Yumeno-san.”

---

She volunteers to supervise them again the next day, acquiescing to only a few hours off in the morning before going right back to guard duty in the afternoon. The others assume that her desire to take on this work is to avenge Chabashira. She doesn’t correct them.

A night’s rest has done nothing positive for Shinguuji’s demeanor. If anything, they seem even more unhinged in the daylight, every bit the part of someone who committed murder barely 24 hours ago.

“Hey,” she says as she lets herself in, hoping the lackluster greeting does a little to mitigate the surprise. Maybe she should have knocked first even though they can’t actually let her in.

“Back so soon?” They chuckle. It takes half a second of observing the twisted smile that accompanies it for her to process the fact that their mask is pulled down around their neck. Have they forgotten, or are they newly okay with exposing their face around her so casually?

“Are you disappointed?”

“On the contrary, I’m quite pleased. It’s good to know my cherished classmates haven’t yet decided to just let me rot. I wonder who would be considered the blackened if I starved to death in my room...” Getting up from where they’ve been lounging on their bed, they make their way closer to her, backing her up toward the wall. “Perhaps it would be you, as the last one who locked me in.”

“Wait, nobody gave you breakfast? Or lunch?” She’ll deny it later, but maybe she does feel their hand brushing along her side, slipping into her pocket.

“No, no one came,” they say, almost mournful. Then they back off and twirl the key between their fingers, letting the light glint off the metal just for show. “It’s quite alright. I can get it myself.”

“Wh— No! Give that back!” Himiko closes the distance between them, grabbing for the key, but misses. Shinguuji just raises their hand straight up, lifting the key out of her reach comically easily. She jumps, misses, and then grabs at their arm, trying to wrench it downward.

She’s terribly weak. They resist easily, moving in the direction of the door all the while.

“Mm, I don’t believe I will. Maybe next time you’ll be more careful.”

“You can’t just leave,” she insists. “I won’t let you.” She can’t allow it, both for everyone’s safety and for her own reputation. Protecting them in private is one thing. Bungling the one major responsibility she’s been entrusted with would be quite another. Shinguuji won’t be swayed by that argument though, that much is obvious. So she does the next best thing. She tries to tackle them.

Despite being at a major disadvantage in both strength and size, the suddenness of her throwing herself at them (and perhaps the fact that they’ve hardly eaten anything in over a day) is enough to make them stumble, scrambling to regain their balance. With an unceremonious crash, they both go down in a tangle of limbs, toppling the desk chair as well.

“What on earth do you think you’re doing?” they ask, sounding calmer than she might have expected.

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m stopping you from escaping.” Once again, she makes a grab for the key before they can get up. To her surprise, they don’t put up much of a fight, letting her snatch it from their hand. Clenching it tight in her hand for fear they’ll just try to take it back again, she finally has a chance to catch her breath.

“Oh my, I suppose you’ve caught me, haven’t you?” Shinguuji asks languidly, gazing up at her. “But what will you do now with me at your mercy?” She’s close enough to see the smudged mascara under their eyes, like they didn’t bother taking off last night’s makeup before putting on more. Their lipstick is a bit smudged too, right at the corner, but the bruise at their jaw is more dramatically eye-catching. It’s that odd moment of calm that allows her to finally realize how the situation looks.

Shinguuji is sprawled out on the floor, hair in their face and fanned out around them. The bandages are coming loose around the hand she took the key from, and the way they’re looking at her is somehow lazy and dangerous all at once. She’s still half on top of them, straddling them from her ill-advised attempt at a tackle. One hand still clutching the key and the other braced against the floor, she isn’t technically sitting on their lap, but only barely.

As she looks down, she tells herself she’s inspecting the bruise on their face, but really, her gaze is lingering on their lips, reveling in how soft and kissable they look. Even the act of allowing her to look feels so intimate.

It would be so easy to lean in, and she starts to do so, compelled by forces beyond her control. She doesn’t think about their contentious relationship or about the fact that Shinguuji is technically her prisoner. All she thinks about is the crackling tension between them, the way their hand has moved up to rest at her waist, and how wonderful it would feel to kiss them.

Before she can get far though, their voice cuts through the daze.

“You have no answer then?” The question doesn’t make sense to her at first, but with a moment’s thought, she’s able to remember that she didn’t answer them before. They asked what she was going to do now. Despite forgetting to reply verbally, she thinks her actions must have been answer enough. Based on the look they give her, she thinks they agree and merely want to force a response anyway. Just to embarrass her, or for some other reason? She doesn’t know.

“You were never at my mercy,” she says eventually. “I just wanted the key.” She really is sitting on their lap now — when that happened, she isn’t entirely sure. Their faces are still so close too, and yet she can’t bring herself to pull away.

“A compelling answer. I can’t say I agree, but it wouldn’t be half as interesting if I did.” There’s still a slight smile on their face, and the hand against her side makes no attempt to push her off.

They both feel it at the same moment, the entire atmosphere shifting slightly. Himiko nods, unsteadily getting up.

“I’ll make sure someone brings you dinner.”

When she leaves, they’re still on the floor.

---

As she promised, she brings up the issue of Shinguuji’s meals with the rest of the group. It doesn’t matter that a couple of missed meals here and there aren’t enough to kill them — denying them food is inhumane.

Momota is the one to bring them dinner; she watches until he opens the door, just to make sure he really delivers it.

She isn’t assigned another shift with them today, technically, but she drops by late at night anyway, after everyone else should be in their rooms. It’s a moment of weakness, a guilty sort of indulgence. She lets herself in expecting the same sort of behavior as earlier, perhaps with a bit of awkwardness about the intimate moment they shared. She doesn’t expect to see them handcuffed.

“What’s this about?” she asks aloud, brow furrowing in concern. Unless someone else snuck in, this could only have been Momota’s doing. But why?

Shinguuji sneers at her from behind their mask.

“Momota-kun seems to be under the impression that I’m misbehaving. Filling your head with all the wrong ideas and trying to turn you against the rest of the group. How these,” and they lift their hands to indicate the cuffs, “are meant to have anything to do with me talking, I’m unsure, but he never does much critical thinking, does he? I do wonder what you said to him to give that impression though.”

“Huh? I didn’t say anything to him like that.”

“Then are you suggesting he merely came up with the idea on his own?”

“I don’t know! He must have, because I...the only thing I said was that it was wrong of them not to feed you.”

“And there it is. I wasn’t supposed to complain about that, it seems.”

Himiko’s head hurts. All of this is so incomprehensible and unfair. No matter what she does, she ends up disappointing everyone. If Momota really thinks Shinguuji is corrupting her somehow, it’s only a matter of time before no one trusts her, and now Shinguuji themself is upset with her too.

“But you weren’t complaining, I asked you.”

“The others don’t see it that way,” they answer simply. “You must have realized by now that they hardly even see me as human. They will do everything in their power to demonize me, even if it doesn’t make sense. That’s how they preserve their worldview. It’s now impossible for me to have any motivation other than killing. Foolish. If I intended to strike again while trapped here, they haven’t done nearly enough to prevent it. Nobody even bothered to search this room for weapons.” Shinguuji laughs then, turning her blood to ice water. “Even handcuffed like this, I could still kill you if I wanted to.”

Just like that, with no warning at all, they lunge at her. Startled (and yes, maybe a little afraid for just a moment that they really intend to hurt her), a shriek escapes her throat, but it’s only half a second before their hand is covering her mouth, silencing her.

“No, no, none of that,” they croon, pulling their hands away again. “Wouldn’t want anyone else to interfere, would we? I’m still uncertain just how strong the soundproofing is.”

Boneless and shaky from the sudden fright, she can’t help but sag against them, trying to regain her bearings. The fabric of their mask brushes her neck, betraying just how close they really are.

“Right,” she mumbles absently, though none of this makes any sense at all.

“What do you think?” they ask softly. “Shall I try it?”

“Uh, no, I’d rather you didn’t.” Her voice is weak, tremulous. She doesn’t really think they will, and yet...

They laugh again, supporting her body against their own.

“Luckily, I wasn’t planning on it. How about I teach you to pick the lock on these cuffs instead?”

---

Completely (mostly) unintentionally, a routine is established over the next few days. They still tease and taunt — if anything, they’re getting more overt about that — but there’s an intimate, almost seductive undertone to it that wasn’t there before. It isn’t enough to needle her about the others’ behaviors and how unfair they consider their imprisonment to be. They have to fluster her in other ways too as they do it.

One of the most noticeable changes is that they no longer stray away from physical contact. They don’t go out of their way to initiate necessarily, but if she gets too close, they jump on the opportunity without hesitation.

“Why is it exactly that you like coming here so much?” they ask her, arms coiling around her waist to pull her closer until she tips onto their lap. “And after I’ve made it abundantly clear how easy it would be for me to kill you too.” It would be even easier now than the first time they taunted her about it, since the handcuffs thankfully hadn’t made a reappearance yet.

“Does it matter why?” she replies, not even pretending to struggle against their grip. “I’d think you’d just be happy that I do.”

“Perhaps it’s that you enjoy watching me.” The tone in which they say that makes her blush, even without getting a look at their expression. “You all look down on me for what I do in the name of my mission, but you take pleasure in keeping me locked up in this room, controlling every part of my day. If anything, I would think that would make me the merciful one. I don’t cause my victims to suffer any longer than necessary.”

“Me coming here has nothing to do with liking the fact that you’re locked up,” she argues, trying to ignore how closely they’re cuddling her, uncovered lips brushing against her neck. She already knows she’ll have to be careful when she leaves — Saihara almost saw the lipstick marks the day before. “This isn’t some kind of power fantasy.”

“No?” Shinguuji nuzzles against her, somehow managing to weave aggression into such a sappy, affectionate gesture.

“No. What you did was bad, obviously, but I don’t see what this is supposed to accomplish. If you...if you killed someone again, you’d get caught and executed for sure, so there’s no reason for you to want to hurt anyone. Right?”

“If I agree with you on that, will you be persuaded to let me out?” They kiss her neck again. Now that she knows the reality is even better than her imagination, it’s hard to resist the urge to turn and kiss them properly.

“I can’t. What do you even think would happen? I let you out and then what, everyone else suddenly decides it’s okay?”

“Not okay, exactly, but not worth the bother of apprehending me again. I certainly wouldn’t go quietly.”

She hates it when they sound so reasonable. It makes it so much more difficult not to give in to their cajoling. Cajoling that often turns to something on the verge of outright begging, as they seem to be gearing up for now. As recently as a week ago, Himiko never would have pictured Shinguuji Korekiyo as someone willing to stoop to begging for any reason. Amazing how quickly things could change.

“I think it’s better if I just keep trying to convince everyone to lighten up.” She finally gives in to the kisses. threading her fingers through their silky hair. The bruise on their jaw (as well as the one on their side) is finally beginning to heal, but is still plenty visible for the time being, a reminder of exactly what they’re up against.

“Everything would be far more entertaining if I was free,” they urge softly, drawing back just enough to speak. “We could have much more fun together. We can work on escaping this academy together. That’s what you want, yes?”

“I...” She falters.

“We could make it happen, the two of us. All you have to do is let me out.”

“How do I even know any of this is genuine?” she asks, finally putting voice to one of the things that’s been troubling her most since this began. “I mean, you’ve basically said yourself plenty of times that you’re toying with me. Once there’s nothing you want from me, how do I know you’ll care at all about escaping together or anything else?”

Shinguuji is quiet for a long while. At first she thinks that she hit the nail on the head and they simply can’t deny the truth. But they haven’t made any move to nudge her off their lap, nor anything else that would indicate an end to the intimacy that had gradually become routine. Finally, they speak.

“I suppose there’s no way to know that for certain. That’s part of the beauty of human relationships. No matter what assurances you receive or how much trust you possess, it’s impossible to ever know with complete certainty that someone will not betray you. Sometimes your trust is misplaced, and that ugliness and sorrow is part of what makes life worth experiencing.”

“That’s unexpectedly deep,” she quips, trying to buy time while she considers how she actually feels about all that. “It’s been a while since you’ve gone on one of your anthropology lectures.”

“I didn’t realize you were interested in them. That’s another thing we could do more of if you decide to let me out, my dear?”

She stifles a gasp at the unexpected term of endearment, face reddening when she realizes that shocked reaction is exactly what they were trying to get out of her.

“Ugh, you’re so persistent. It really is a pain.”

They shrug. “I have little else to occupy my time, so continuing to wear down your defenses is a worthwhile effort. At the very least, you could bring me some documents from my research lab to make my time away from you less tedious.”

“I can do that,” she agrees, offering a small smile when she meets their eyes. “And it’s not that I want you to stay stuck in here. I just...need to think about the best way to do things. Because I want to get out of here together too.”

“Perhaps Momota-kun was right all along. Maybe I did corrupt you.”

She laughs, already leaning in for another kiss. “Or maybe you just didn’t realize how interested I already was.”

#danganronpa #himikiyo #himikiyoweek2021 #himiko yumeno #korekiyo shinguji #drv3 #shinguji korekiyo #yumeno himiko

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shinjukuspiritcommittee · 4 years

Text

Bullied

Into the Corner

~You couldn’t sleep. It was past midnight and you had finished your schoolwork but couldn’t get to sleep. Your encounter earlier shook you up a bit. Now while in App Battles you were credited at being one of the better users there are but without the App… you were a regular student. Regardless of how much value people would put on you, those who had no knowledge of the app made you the target of their ridicule. It was waning on your conscience you had a night terror that outside of the app you had nothing much like those bullies made you believe. You didn’t want to go to sleep tonight. It sucks…

~You caught yourself tearing up that you had to force yourself to push those thoughts aside. Maybe some air can help so you rushed out and sat just outside the dorms. It was a quiet night with the moon shining down giving the school a nice luminescence. A deep sigh of the brisk night air calmed your nerves a little but your mind would still wander to their taunts and threats.

With Shiro

~“This is unexpected.” Shiro said as he stepped outside to your side. You were surprised and asked what he was doing out here so late. “Funny, I could ask the same of you.” Your strategist replied. “It’s not like you to go for a walk this late in the evening. Normally because you can’t make a pass at anyone this late…” You laughed and asked him not to tease you so casually. “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself. But seeing you like this you looked as though you could use a good laugh and someone to talk to.” You did your best to try and say that nothing was wrong. You claim you just wanted some air.

~“Then why do you look so down on yourself?” Huh? “I saw you leave your room and you looked… lonely.” So he was watching you. “Not just then, but also… you’ve been acting weird the past few days. You’ve barely been paying attention during our meetings, you’ve been spending a lot of free time alone, and to top it off you’ve been avoiding us. Honestly, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about it ever since I noticed.” You remained silent, the words unable to surface. You asked Shiro if he could keep a secret since you didn’t want to lie and knew that even trying to would result in Shiro just calling you out. “Of course. You can trust me with anything.”

~… You had finished explaining what was on your mind to Shiro. Honestly you were ashamed of having these feelings since you know so many rely on you but it couldn’t be helped- “Don’t apologize.” Almost immediately Shiro pulled you into an embrace. Taken off guard you let out a gasp of confusion. You didn’t quite get why but it definitely felt nice to be held like this… “I know you can’t bear all of this alone. I didn’t think you would even try… but, I’m happy you confessed to me. Just please don’t ever think that you’re alone. I’ll always be here for you to lend an ear and help however I can. You can always depend on me.” You didn’t have any words for Shiro. Instead you could just feel the tears falling down your face as you finally hugged him back and whimpered into his blazer. You spent the rest of that evening with the company of Shiro as the two of you devised a plan to properly confront the bullies and have the situation dealt with.

With Kengo

~“There you are, Partner!” Kengo said as he approached you with a big grin on his face. “Haven’t been out on a night like this in a while, yeah?” You admitted that you have been slacking in the extensive training department, but quickly tried to use schoolwork as a lame excuse for your lack of motivation. “I wouldn’t worry too much about all that, the training is totally more important.” But what good is training if you’ll get stuck in detention when you need to be battling the most. “Ah-!” It seems you found the flaw with his method.

~“W-Well what about you!? What about tonight makes it so special to finally come out- uh I mean…!” So he noticed. “...course I noticed…” Kengo whispered. You fell silent due to your embarrassment for being called out like this. “First you stop going to the meet ups, then you stop staying out and training. And just recently you’ve been avoiding us during the day.” You described it as just complicated. “Well, what the hell’s got you so worked up!? Just tell us already!” Frustrated you snapped back that you couldn’t. “Why the hell not!?” Because it’s embarrassing! Kengo was shocked at your frustration and taken aback by your tears.

~You took a deep breath and explained to him what’s been on your mind lately. “Y-Y-Y…” Kengo seemed like he didn’t know what to say as he was too shocked. “YOU COMPLETE IDIOT!” He roughly grabbed you by the collar and you were hoisted up off your feet. You panicked at being carried so suddenly but when you see his face close up you can see he’s very poorly holding back tears. “You’re a complete dumbass. Why didn’t you just knock the daylight’s out of them? Why didn’t you do something!? Why…” Kengo’s tears finally began to fall. “Why didn’t you just tell us? I woulda clocked em out so hard…” You put your hands over Kengo’s and he managed to set you down. You continued to hold Kengo’s hands in yours. You apologized for being an unreliable partner and promised him you’d look to him more for help. But… maybe save the skull bashing for later.

With Ryota

~“Mmm…?” You let out a reply of surprise and asked why Ryota was up at such an hour. “I… heard someone leave their room and…” He seems to have woken up on accident since he still seemed quite groggy. You apologized and asked Ryota to go back to bed since it was pretty late. “But… what about you?” You told Ryota that you’d go to bed soon, but you needed some air. “Then… I need some air too.” He seemed to snap to attention and immediately jumped to your side. You didn’t mind but you were worried for him not getting enough rest. “It’ll be okay. I’ve got you with me, right?” Right…

~You felt a bit guilty being unable to speak to Ryota. The two of you spent some time in absolute silence that it started getting a little weird. Awkwardly you attempted to speak up, but when you did he attempted too as well. The two of you properly apologized and went back to being silent for another few seconds before you finally offered him to go first. “Uh, right…” Ryota gulped and looked straight at you. “Why… have you been avoiding us lately?” Huh? “You… don’t go to meetings anymore, in class you’re barely focused, and during lunch you go hide by yourself.” You tried to explain it wasn’t like that. “Then why? Even now you’re not even looking right at me!” Your friend asked desperately. Getting right to the heart of it…

~“Wha-!?” Ryota gasped as you explained what you’ve been subjected to the past few weeks. You honestly just didn’t want the others to worry about you. “Y-You…” He stammered out. “Why? Why couldn’t you just tell us?” Tears started welling in your eyes and his. “Why don’t you trust us? Why don’t you trust me?” He cried. You asked Ryota to not cry with tears falling on your face as well. You pulled Ryota in close and rubbed his back as the two of you cried. You apologized to Ryota and that you didn’t mean to hurt him. “I… I just want to help.” He replied. “But I can’t if you don’t tell me.” You and Ryota spent the rest of the night together talking and comforting one another.

With Toji

~“And where do you think you’re running off to?” Toji asked briskly as he approached you from the shadows. You let out a small gasp but immediately calmed down when he emerged from the shadows. You let him know he nearly scared you to death. “Don’t be ridiculous. You would have only fainted for just a moment.” He said quite sternly. “So, what are you planning on doing since it is past curfew after all?” You just said you needed some air since tonight seemed like a good night. “I see. In that case I’ll accompany you.” You asked him why. “Because it’s my duty to make sure you stay out of trouble. I can’t have you running off on your own and causing more trouble than necessary.” Regardless of your insistence that you weren’t going to cause mischief Toji still tagged along anyway.

~You and Toji didn’t say much to one another. It wasn’t that surprising to you since Toji wasn’t typically known for idle chatter, however he took notice of your behavior. “Is everything alright?” He asked bluntly. You said everything was all good and what would inspire such a question. “So that’s the way you want to handle it, then.” You and Toji resumed your shared silence. The night was definitely a good one to be out and despite his usual complaints Toji was good company on calm days like today. You were feeling a little guilty that your friend was spending all this time with you and you were being obstinate. So you apologized to him…

~and explained what’s been going on. Making sure to emphasize that you didn’t mean to isolate yourself from the others, but rather you didn’t want these issues to be a burden. “I thank you for the consideration but if I may…” Toji hesitated for a moment before gathering the courage he needed to say what he felt he needed to. “You’re acting like a brat. ‘Not wanting to be a burden’? Someone like you has no right saying that.” That caught you off guard. “You’re constantly butting into everyone else’s affairs but suddenly you can’t be bothered to speak up when your own feelings are on the line. Do you not see the hypocrisy in that?” Toji continued to give a rather emotionally driven lecture to you, leaving you feeling like an idiot and admittedly well on the verge of tears. When he realized that he may have gone too far with his words, Toji comforted you and remained by your side until you went back to your dorm for rest.

#tokyo afterschool summoners #housamo #Headcanon #HC #angst #sfw #comfort #shiro #kengo #ryota #Toji #summoners

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peakyblinderswhore · 4 years

Text

req: where a girl runs away from ireland, pregnant and scared and rents a cottage in small heath before accidentally becoming good friends with ada. one day they go to john’s estate and find it in chaos, you go to save michael as he’s still breathing. later on, polly wants to meet me and thank me for everything and this is where they find out about me being pregnant and alone.

a/n: this was initially supposed to be a wattpad exclusive since i was asked on wattpad for this but man, i wrote so much that i think it deserves to be seen on here too. anyway, i hope you enjoy! ps: between me and you, i flaked our at the end and went cliché as per my usual writing.

w/c: 2.8k

warnings: mild abuse (skip past the “keep reading” line and you won’t have to read it)

Somehow, I had managed to catch a boat from Dublin to England. I wasn’t entirely sure where it was headed specifically, I had been much more worried about getting out of here. I’d seen a woman Tuesday evening, she had confirmed my suspicions — I was pregnant.

I carried life and I was overjoyed, until I went home to my husband, bouncing on my toes, waiting to tell him the good news. Initially, I had been ecstatic; that was my first mistake. The second had been talking and the third was for being a whore.

In those moments, my heart shattered. He went out drinking and told me to be gone before he came home. I’m sure he just meant out of the house, to sleep at a friends house for a small amount of time, or something along those lines, but we’d been down this road before. The last time, he had beaten the child out of me. He didn’t know it and it broke my heart even just thinking about the potential it could’ve had.

Of course, I chose the only thing that could guarantee a good life for my child, I fled. First I pulled the house apart looking for every penny in every corner and crevice of the house, then I packed my bag and walked in the shadows to the docks. It was daylight and I hadn’t wanted anyone to see me this way. Upon reaching the boat, it took me all of my grovelling to make it onto the ship. I don’t know if they felt guilty or just wanted me to shut up but they let me on the boat under the promise that I would get off wherever they docked next.

When we docked, I kept my promise, glad to be away from what I called my husband.

“Where are we, please?” I asked a younger sailor.

“Birmingham, Ma’am. Small Heath, specifically, I believe.”

Nodding at him in thanks, I made my way off, following the small crowd that had emerged from within the ship with me. I had almost no idea where I needed to go. Of course, I had to figure out where I was going to sleep.

Once a week or so had passed, I had found a place to rent with the money I had fled with. I think I must’ve drawn some attention as a woman called Ada took a very quick liking to me. She was present, wherever I went and I was worried at first, possibly paranoid that my husband had sent someone to fetch me or do something about me, but I quickly found out that she had absolutely no idea where I’d washed up from.

She was one of the few things that kept me sane over the coming days. My life was a small mess but she helped me set everything in order again.

“Why?” I muttered to her one day, fed up with everything that I was dealing with that day.

“Because once, I was like you. Pregnant and alone; trust me, it’s not fun nor is it good for the baby, whether it’s been born yet or not,” she diligently replied, walking past me into the cottage I was renting.

For a second, I blubbed like a fish, wondering how she had guessed my pregnancy without me giving her any clues.

She must’ve sensed my confused face staring into her back as she set down some food she had brought over from the market because she carried on, “I know because I’ve been there. It’s the small things that give it away the most because you don’t try to hide them as much — you simply think others won’t notice if you pretend that you don’t either.”

She’d managed to hit the nail on the head, shocking me mostly but also making me think about some of my choices, my presumptions about her and what her family was like or what they thought of her.

“Karl and I,” she began, “well, Tommy wasn’t Karl’s Dad’s biggest fan. I was pregnant before we got married and then when we were married, it didn’t last for long. Freddie… he died. Pestilence got him in the end. All of that fighting for a disease to end it.”

I didn’t quite get what she was talking about for the most part, I’d known her long enough to have met Karl but apart from that I was clueless.

“Ada —”

“Don’t pity me, it was a long time ago.”

I clasped my lips together and abruptly nodded my head as I changed the direction of the conversation, “Shall we go out today?”

“Actually,” Ada said as she stepped away from putting the food away, “I was going to take Karl to visit my brother and his kids. Wouldn’t be bad for the boy to get some fresh air and to see his cousins. I’m sure they’ve been driving John doo-wally.”

Giggling, I say, “Doo-wally?”

Ada rolls her eyes, “Get ready, we’ll be off soon.”

Within the hour, you had set off in a car that Ada borrowed from one of her brothers and I had arrived at John’s estate. Karl had gotten out of the vehicle, eager to be greeted by his cousin's big smiles and playing around with them.

“He seems excited, how long has it been since you last visited?”

“Oh gosh, I don’t think I’ve been since they first…”

Ada’s voice trailed away as we turned a corner, revealing the pools of blood covering the expanse of the patio. Who I assumed to be John’s wife was screaming and crying, barey taking a moment to breathe as tears streamed down her face and blood seeped into her dress, staining it dark.

“Oh fuck,” Ada muttered, still in shock before commanding her body to move towards John, “Esme. Esme, is he alive?”

Ada turns to face me as Esme ignores Ada to continue weeping, “Go to Michael, his chest is still moving!”

I fell to the ground once you reached Michael. Without acknowledging the blood that was dying my skirts and now smudged all over my hands, up to my elbows.

I held his head, “Where? Where does it hurt? There’s blood everywhere; I can’t see where you were shot.”

He weakly pats his abdomen, to which I quickly rip open his suit, popping a few buttons from his shirt when I managed to pull it apart and apply pressure to where it became evident of the hole in his skin. Wincing, he groans and I hurriedly say, “I know, love, this is gonna hurt so much, but I have to stop it from bleeding.”

“I’m calling an ambulance!”

I nod, not even turning my head to watch Ada, “Karl go inside,” Michael muttered.

I lift my head, having not noticed the boy standing, lifelessly as he watched me and his mother frantically try to fix things.

“Karl, honey,” I whispered, “follow your Mum. Go inside; don’t come back out until after we come and get you together,” he nodded his head silently and walked inside, as if he had been sleep-deprived and stumbled up the steps.

Michael’s head was lolling about, barely conscious at this point. Focusing my attention back on him, I noticed his eyes rolling into the back of his head, “Hey,” I grab his head, pulling it to face me, his eyes were still rolling so I shook his shoulder a little, “don’t go anywhere. They’re so close to being here, don’t make their journey not worth it.”

He manages to avert his attention and put all of his might into focusing on me, “Wow,” he hastily breathes out, “I made it to Heaven, who would’ve thought? Ha, fucking Tommy, eh...”

“Nu-uh,” I slapped his face before forcing him to look at you and sternly said, “Don’t go anywhere.”

He seems rather amused and continues his rambling, “That felt pretty real to me, you Irish angel.”

Stopping for a moment, I was connecting the dots between what he said earlier and what he was muttering now. My face flushed and he whispered, “Wow, all the way to your ears? That’s adorable.”

Suddenly, I was acutely aware of my hands and how bloodied they were, drawing my attention away from his lazy grin. Deciding in my head quickly, I tore off a strip of my skirts to help prevent any more blood loss from his bullet wound when I applied pressure. I wrapped it around my hand twice and let the rest bundle on top of his wound before pressing down to the point where he winced.

“Sorry,” I murmured, “I can’t have it leaking before they get here.”

At that moment, Ada rushes out of the double french doors, “They’re almost here, I’ve been consoling the kids, as Esme gathers herself.”

Slowly I lift my head to see a quivering Esme, looking longingly at John’s body. I couldn’t even begin to imagine what must be going through her head.

“I’ve got Michael for the moment, not much more blood loss and he’s holding up a conversation for the moment,” I glanced over to a scared Karl behind Ada, clutching onto her skirts, “go back inside with the kids; get Esme cleaned up.”

Ada simply nods, suddenly needing someone else to give the orders, she was in shock from the scene we had stumbled upon this afternoon. It would be hard on anyone but it’s more shattering when it’s your brother. Her hair bounces a little, the only movement that suggests she was still breathing, even if she was shaking — scared hadn’t been a look I’d seen on Ada before and you weren’t sure if I ever wanted to see it again.

Until the ambulance arrived, I had continued talking to Michael, keeping him there and making sure he didn’t lose consciousness at any point.

Eventually, they came and took Michael, keeping him alive better than what I could, I hoped. It had taken every last bit of my energy to drag Ada away once Tommy had arrived to sort the rest out. It had felt like he’d surely taken his sweet time turning up; I had no idea who was more distraught, Esme or Ada; it definitely wasn’t Tommy.

I managed to pull Ada and Karl into the car they had borrowed and drove them back to the outskirts of Small Heath, stopping right outside my small cottage, where the fields met the streets. Neither had argued when I woke them up, their tear stained cheeks and bloody clothes sticking to the seats. Despite Ada’s wishes, I pushed them into my bed and took the sofa for the night, acknowledging the fact that they probably needed a better night’s sleep than I did tonight, after everything that had happened.

. . .

Weeks later, everyone had been to John’s burial. It was strange, Ada had insisted that I was to be there as she didn’t want to go alone but I said otherwise.

“It’ll be harder for you if I’m there. I was there that day too, you don’t need another face to remind you of what happened; neither does Esme, the woman has already been through far to much for me to even get into right now,”

Ada’s face had gotten swollen over the days, mostly from crying over and over again, never getting the chance to get it all out before Karl interrupted. I had often tried to distract the boy but on days when I went out to the market to buy food it was hard to control what he did. He didn’t want to go out, sometimes I had successfully managed to drag him away but I couldn’t blame him for wanting to be with his mother so much.

“Karl, is she home?” Ada called, one morning after I’d been out and bought some flowers to liven up the atmosphere a little.

“Yes, she’s home. She’s got pink flowers too.”

Surprised at Ada’s voice, I walk through, “Awake, love? I got some freesias to lighten the room a little.”

Ada smiled, “Polly wants to meet you. And Michael, properly. They want to thank you for that day, for saving Michael… and for trying to save John,” she sniffed, forcing her smile to stay on her face, “Pol’s invited us to afternoon tea today. I was just trying to convince Karl to go with you to the market to buy something nicer to wear.”

“I might have something that I can adjust for him.”

“So you’ll come,” she says, turning her head away from the newspaper that she was reading, “to Polly’s this afternoon?”

Wincing, I reply, “I suppose so. I think it might be good if I got to see Michael the way he is conscious.”

After fussing about for a few hours over sorting something for Karl to wear and making sure you wore something that was fresh, yourself, you had made it to Polly’s townhouse. It was grand, especially compared to the cottage you were renting out. The front garden was neat and had colour coordinated flower beds and a neatly trimmed border that accentuated the pathway that led to the wooden front door.

Upon knocking, Ada had pushed me in front of her so that when the door opened a beautiful, classical lady answered. Instantly her face lit up, she held out her arms, “You, my darling, must be the one who saved my boy’s life,” she pulled me into a hug and engulfed me into her embrace, tightening her grip so as to not let go and whispered, “thank you so much. I only wish we could’ve helped John.”

Carefully, I wrapped my arms around her, and breathed in her homely scent, “Of course, Polly. My deepest regards, I wish I could’ve done more too.”

She pats my back twice and pulls away, holding me at an arm's length, “Pregnant, pretty and a lifesaver. I’m not sure what else we could’ve asked for. Come in, I have some tea ready,” she beckoned us in, stepping aside to allow us to walk into her home.”

She led us through to the sitting room, offered me a seat next to Michael and walked off to fetch a teapot and some cups and saucers for us all.

“Wow, this is she?”

I turn to face him, blushing profusely, “It is she. How are you Michael?”

“Much better thanks to you. Mum says she doesn’t think I would’ve made it without you.”

“I’m sure you would’ve…”

Ada pipes up, “Michael was in a pretty bad state. Polly spoke to the doctors and they said he’d been stabilised at the scene; that was you, love.”

I sat, bewildered by the thought that I had literally stopped someone from dying. Before, it had only been talk and I had let them while they were mourning but now — it was real.

We sat in silence for a moment as Polly walked back in, now carrying a tray full of tea for us all.

“You know,” Michael began, “you’re beautiful. Your baby is going to be so well-looked after and is going to be just as smart and beautiful as you are… I bet your husband is thrilled to have someone like you.”

I let my head fall slightly and ignore as Polly hums in agreeance with her son and I stare at my hands as I fiddle with the sleeve of my dress.

Ada notices the tension I was radiating and quietly states, “She ran away from home because her husband doesn’t want anything to do with her and her to-be baby.”

Polly halts in her position, currently pouring tea into a cup and turns to face us properly, “Excuse me?”

Michael stands from his seat, “What? What kind of idiot doesn’t want something to do with their wife and kid?”

His face slowly distorts and his cheeks redden as the anger boils inside of him, “You saved my life and fucking goddamnit if I let you and your child grow up without a father figure. You saved mine and I want the chance to repay you.”

“Michael —”

“No, love, he’s right. You’re so strong and you’ve made it this far, but we want to help. Nothing will ever repay the fact that you saved Michael’s life but let us try,” Polly says, resting a hand on my shoulder affectionately, her voice running through the room like silk as she softens.

“That’s right. Marry me.”

My eyes widen, “Ah, Michael, I’m not sure that’s necessary.”

“You’ll be shamed if your baby doesn’t have a father,” Polly soothes, “It’s different if you’re a widow but if word gets out, we can’t fight every single fucker who natters on about your personal life.”

“Marry me; I’ll be the father figure for your baby. It’s the least I can do.”

tags: @saintd0lce lmk if you want to be tagged! :)

#peaky #littlemissshelby #littlemissshelbyreplies #John Shelby #Esme Shelby #michael gray #Michael Shelby #aunt polly #polly gray #polly shelby #Ada Shelby #ada thorne #Peaky Blinders #peaky blinders season 4 #birmingham #1920s #luca changretta #shelby

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cryptidsandcatacombs · 3 years

Text

What If I Killed Someone For You

Rating: absolutely postively adult for violent yandere content. Anyone under the age of 18 better go away. No reading allowed for anyone under the age of 18. Plus there's like one adult joke in here so no one under the age of 18 allowed for that reason either.

Summary: This is literally fueled by my love of yandere content #nojudgingcringecultureisdeadandikilledit. Noe better watch himself because he's been my muse lately. Anyways uuuu idk yandere stuff here so you know someone's getting stabbed. We should probably do something about that, but we're not gonna. Thems the rules chief. No, you can't stop it either you total fucking killjoy. I'll start stealing toes if you do. What will I do with said toes? Black markets are a lucrative business and I need the money cause I'm broke fam. So really it's the economy's fault that I'm chopping toes. Say thanks late stage capitalism. This is brought to you by idk the monster under your bed who chops off the toes for me. He gets paid by the hour so try no to run too much ok.

Oh and this fic contains lyrics from If I killed someone for you by Alec Benjamin. Yes I'm inserting song lyrics into a fic like it's the early 2000s.

I'm packing up my things and I'm wiping down the walls I'm rinsing off my clothes and I'm walking through the halls I did it all for her So I felt nothing at all I don't know what she'll say So I'll ask her when she calls

Would you love me more? If I killed someone for you

Oz was considered by most a laid back sort of guy. Never angered easily. He can get frustrated like every other person, but not so easily angered.

However, despite his laid back nature, he had a vice. Jealousy. One that he was very self aware of. He often tried not to let it get the better of him, but there it was. A beast clad in green with eyes of emerald staring him directly in the fact tempting him with its siren song.

The siren song came in the form of Noe Archiviste and....whoever this girl was that was hanging all over Noe right now. She had a voice as sweet as molasses and brown curls that fell down her shoulders like waterfalls. She would run her hands over Noe and look at him with her doe eyes. She was a cute on overall. Couldn't blame Noe for taking interest if it was there.

He seemed to not the mind the attention he received from the lady...nor the frivolous compliments....nor the blatantly flirty way she seems to be touching him with every caress of his hands into hers and the way she wraps her arms around his neck.

Oz's eye twitched. Oz could have stuffed down all this rage and envy that suddenly sprouted from the ether, but jealousy was truly Oz's vice. One he wasn't planning to fix any time soon. He wanted to sit there and be happy for his dearest Noe. Stay to the sidelines and be happy for his good fortune for love is one of the greatest things you can find.

However, there was another urge. One just as strong.

"I want her to die," cried Oz's thoughts. "I want her gone. She can't take Noe away from me. She can't. I know him and I aren't together in a romantic sense, but...I don't want her taking away my chance either. She has to go"

"Now now Oz," said another voice in Oz's head, "You know that's wrong. You can't go around getting rid of anyone you see as a competition or obstacle towards someone you care about."

Oz was prone to scolding himself at times like these. He always held himself to high moral standards. Sometimes too high. To the point of self-loathing. Impressive if you ask the writer. Self awareness? Bitch please for shame. This isn't a call out post for myself. What is it you may ask? Hey, we're getting off topic you little trickster. You're supposed to be a reader. Not breaking the fourth wall.

"Yes yes I know I can't do that. I'm not going to. That still doesn't save me from any form of feral urge to wring her neck and ship her body down the river and hope and have her loved ones pray she can be identified by her dental records. Fuck does she even love him. What if she's out to hurt him or worse just wants him for his body? Look at him! He's gorgeous. Who can blame her? What if she doesn't love him like I do," said Oz's internal thoughts.

"Oz you're being dumb. She might love him unconditionally too and he deserves that for himself," Oz argued internally with himself back.

"I know I know, but I'm just saying what if. I just don't like the idea of him getting hurt nor the idea of her taking him away from me. I'm entitled to that feeling aren't I," Oz continued to debate with his voice of reason.

"Fair, but lets just wait and see. He's a big boy and can handle himself," Oz's voice of reason stated.

"Yeah a big boy in more ways than one I bet," said the third internal Oz voice of being horny and all around slutty that constantly lives there.

"This is getting us nowhere," Oz himself decided to just cut the internal argument off before it turns into a blood match to the death. This was disturbing his routine of stalking Noe for ...research purposes.

Oz looked over to now see them sitting down at the nearby cafe. They were seated across from each other. Oz noted Noe might be enjoying his usual coffee or tea. He liked it extra sweet either way. The man has one hell of a sweet tooth.

"Yeah I bet that brown haired hussie doesn't know that, but I do," Oz thought to himself smugly.

Oz looked back at Noe's companion to see her touching his arm and doing the egregious crime of looking into his magnificent purple eyes. Wait....was she now touching his face?

"You lucky bitch," Oz thought to himself this time with anger brows drawn on the words for dramatic emphasis.

Oz ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. "Damn it! How long is this date going to last? I hope it stops before I puke up a lung," Oz thought to himself this time internally rolling in pain.

Hours passed and Oz with surprising tenacity had stayed there all day following Noe around with the clever disguise of wearing a hat and ya know some shabby clothes. Truly no way he could be recognized. Yep, he's got it all figured out.

Oz decided to follow them home from a fair distance. Oz looked up to see the sunset. It was starting to get dark and Oz hated the dark, but he hated certain people who might harm those he loves even more. A little nyctophobia isn't gonna hurt.

Oz followed quietly until he noticed they stopped in front of a flat. It was her flat. Noe escorted her to the door like the gentleman he is and waved her good night. Oz had found a nice dark alleyway to hide in so he wouldn't be spotted.

Noe headed towards Oz's direction which caused Oz to hide deeper into the darkness. Oz bit his lip from the anxiety of being found and having some explaining to do. Like who was he kidding? This disguise was paper thin!

Noe looked like he was passing by Oz, then stopped. Oz froze. Oh god had he spotted him?

Before Oz could register what happened next, Noe had gone in a flash. Oz knew he was fast, but he couldn't see where he went.

It was then a grunt and the sound of what seemed to be something getting bashed against the wall behind Oz. Oz slowly turned to find Noe whose hand was pressing something against the wall.

It was then he grabbed whatever he was holding and slammed it again. Oz stared into the darkness to see his eyes glowing red to match the blood on his gloves.

After another slam, the clear sound of bone cracking from the impact could be heard. Noe dropped, what Oz could assume, the now lifeless body of the person he just killed.

Noe turned to see Oz and Oz froze. "Ok ok maybe he doesn't know it's you," Oz thought to himself. "Oh I know."

"Aye top of the morning to you," Oz did in his best Irish accent that he could muster.

Noe leaned down and inspected Oz. Oz could only look at Noe confused as Noe lifted Oz's arms and looked over Oz's face and the rest of his person.

Noe then gave a sigh of relief. "Good, I was afraid he had hurt you Oz," Noe said putting a hand on Oz's shoulder.

"Wait, you knew it was me," Oz said face turning hot.

"I mean, I'd recognize you from anywhere. You're not hard to miss," Noe pointed out.

"Oh uuu so what happened exactly," Oz asked now curious about the now lifeless elephant in the room.

Oz went to look at the supposed body only for Noe to yank him back and shook his head no.

"You're squeamish," Noe said taking his bloody glove off, putting his now bare hand on Oz's face,"I wouldn't look."

Oz shuddered taking Noe's advice.

"The man had been following you. I know of him. That vampire right there would have killed you where you stood if I hadn't done something," Noe said honestly.

Oz batted his lashes in shock taken aback. "I...almost died," Oz asked.

Noe nodded. "Fortunately, he doesn't kill in broad daylight, so I had to wait til night. I had just noticed him following you today. I don't know how long he's been doing it for, but if I had noticed earlier, he would have been dead on the first day," Noe nearly growled out. "I'd rather not have killed him in broad daylight either,ut if I had to, I would have," Noe wanted to point out. "If he had attacked you, I absolutely would have."(edited)

Oz turned pale. "W-wait, when did you notice I was...," Oz said not knowing how to word his next question.

"Following me," Noe asked for him, "Since I left the house. You're not exactly subtle."

Oz blushed. "Oh uh sorry I was just curious as to what your daily routine was like and then I noticed you had a female companion, so I was trying to see if you were safe," Oz said nervously.

"Her? She was lonely and needed company, so I obliged. She's a bit friendly, but so am I," Noe pointed out.

"So are you...interested in her? Dating her even," Oz asked getting to the point.

Noe shook his head. "Not in the slightest," Noe said heading towards the body making effort to cover it up. "I'll dispose of the body in a minute. Let's take the back ways so I'm not caught soaked in blood. I need to get you home," Noe said quickly leading him back.

"Wait what if someone finds it," Oz asked fearfully.

"This will be quick," Noe said picking up Oz and speeding off.

Oz could often forget how fast this unstoppable force of a man was.

A few minutes later, Oz was back on his doorstep. Oz rubbed the back of his neck looking towards Noe wondering what Noe was going to do now.

"Now, go inside and don't come check on me. I don't want to have to hide more bodies this evening should more make the fatal mistake of coming after you," Noe said waiting til Oz got to his door.

"Ok ok," Oz said opening his door.

Oz waved Noe off as he sped away to do the dirty work.

Later that night, Oz flopped over into the bed still registering the fact he just saw Noe Archiviste straight up body a man. The sweet, gentle lamb of a man just increased the body count this evening. The man was now a statistic in vampire based deaths. Truly mystifying.

Oz wanted to stay up and see if Noe was going to be ok. However, sleep took Oz before Oz could make any quick decisions. It had been a long day.

As Oz slept, Noe crept in with any blood soaked clothes supposedly disposed of. Noe bent down and ran his fingers through Oz's hair.

Noe's fingers drifted to Oz's pulse on his neck. Long has Noe fantasized about marking Oz's neck. The thought made him shiver, but he couldn't. He couldn't bare to do it with him possibly not consent as marking someone like that is a big deal.

Noe pressed a little more of the pulse of Oz's neck. The beat made Noe's heart race and what Noe could swear was drool. To be so intimate with Oz to the point he trusts Noe to drink his blood. It was enough to make him shiver.

Noe shook himself from these thoughts. He couldn't give in. Not without Oz's permission.

Noe got up quietly and shut Oz's door bedroom door behind him as he left. He couldn't bare to kiss Oz's face good night as he was afraid it would trigger something in him.

Noe fled out the door into the dead of night towards his place. He wouldn't let any harm come to Oz. Even if that danger was himself.

#self indulgent fics

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johnkrrasinski · 4 years

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Coffee with Cream

Chapter 2: Dream of You

full masterlist

series masterlist

Pairings: Frank Castle x reader x Mad Sweeney

Word count: 2,693

Warnings: cussing, mentions of alcohol, street fight, men being men.

Summary: Two men, one diner and little old you. Working at a diner had never been your dream job but, fate had a funny way of bringing two contrasted men into your life.

a/n: hey guys! as you all know my obsession over frank castle and pablo schreiber had been exploding these past couple of months. and so, me and @nellblazer decided to write a good old threesome fic involving these two bulky men. hope you like it. enjoy!

You laid in your bed that night with a romance novel that you hadn't had the chance to pick up and finish in awhile due to the weariness of working double shifts. It's the same old pattern for the last few years; you'd get up early for your morning shift at the diner, rushed back home to take a little break, and possibly enjoy your catnaps before your second alarm rings for your night shift.

And then when the night was ending, you'd take another bus to get yourself home, take a shower and eat your takeout or heat up your frozen pizza, and went to bed. For years, life was merely a repetitive cycle of humdrum. You barely had time for yourself due to your relentless endeavour to stay afloat.

Living in Brooklyn when you come from a middle-class family means that you really had to fight tooth and nail to pay the bills and fill your fridge. You were raised to be an independent and hardworking person by your parents and that's why it wasn't much of a challenge for you to work double shifts at a diner when you could've taken one. You taught yourself to push through your boundaries in life, and you were aware that sometimes it's not always convenient but at least you were proud of your own effort.

That also means you didn't have time to swipe right and left on Tinder and find yourself a date. It was nearly impossible to find a decent guy in Brooklyn, let alone trusting a dating app that could possibly be utilized by creeps or murderers to find their next victim. Although your co-workers had suggested it many times to you, you refused to present yourself to the angels of death just simply you were desperate to get laid.

But tonight was different from the others. It was comical, really, how one, well, two, actually people could walk into your life, okay that was dramatic, walk into a diner and elevated the sour mood that you had grown used to in recent years, and made a difference. A good one.

You couldn't remember the last time you had a genuine smile on your face. You also couldn't remember when was the last time you felt butterflies in your stomach. And here you are, lying in bed, replaying the scenes that took place earlier. In the daylight when the bustle was in full swing and in the nighttime when the city was placid.

You barely knew anything about them and you had only met them in less than 24 hours, but, you could still remember the way Frank Castle made you feel when his brown eyes stared intensely into yours as he shook your hand. The quiet yet magnetic force that he exuded only compelled you to learn more about him. In the brief conversation that you had earlier, you knew that he was a wanderer of a man.

He'd been hoping from one place to another, but he was thinking of staying in Brooklyn for a while and you were hoping that nothing changes his mind about that. You were really hoping that you'd see him again real soon.

And then, your thoughts drifted to the second man that you encountered with earlier. His auburn hair burned the lights in the room, causing a small fire that you didn't light up. But his amorous words had left you starstruck in a way that you didn't know was possible. You weren't one to stumble on a brazenly flirtatious man but something about him was too tempting to be overlooked. And the fact that he had this eccentric thing for coins made you wonder... What else has he got up in his sleeve?

Sweeney hadn't been able to get you off his mind all night.

The grumpy server who'd taken over had definitely not been a patch on your sunny optimism or brimming curiosity. He couldn't remember the last time a girl was so interested in his stories. Usually he got brushed off as a leering drunk or just a plain old letch but you'd entertained him, asked questions and given him a form of fresh cream to boot, all for him. A form of worship as it was.

You hadn't realised it of course, nobody ever believes in gods these days unless they're the Big Three or the Norse pantheon. Little old Sweeney with his Celtic cohort was hardly going to register on anyone's radar. I mean, fuck, nobody could even say his actual name right, let alone believe he was a god.

Even so, he felt refreshed, more refreshed than he'd been in years and when he got absolutely blasted on whiskey, the feeling was not the same as it was. The crippling existentialism was gone to be replaced by joyfulness and he sang most of the way home, thoroughly amusing everyone on his way back with his rude songs. He even danced with an old lady like they used to do in the twenties which he thought had made her night as she blushed furiously and began saying it'd been a while since she'd danced with a young man in the street.

Sweeney was having the time of his life, precisely up until he got in the alleyway and his loud singing got him into trouble.

There was a group of thugs hanging around in the middle, trying to sort something out but Sweeney didn't care to venture too close to find out what precisely.

“-Well I called me wife and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me, who owns that thing in your thing where my own thing should be!” he belts out, stumbling slightly in their direction and he sees the flash of irritation on their faces.

The next thing he knew he was getting dog piled on. Bodies seemed to leap on him from every corner and all he could think about was protecting his coin at all costs so he sent it in the Hoard, the magical hiding place for his treasure and once he'd taken a few harsh licks to the gut, he tried to pull himself together to fight back.

Drunken brawling was his speciality after all.

He wasn't expecting it when a couple of the gang members were yanked off of him. He took the opportunity to jump back to his feet, delivering a haymaker to the nearest lad who's cheek splintered under his weighted punch. The kid dropped to the floor like a stone, howling about his face.

The next man behind him, he twisted and grabbed around the middle, running them backwards to the edge of a dumpster before letting go and watching his head clang noisily off the metal as they fell backwards.

Oh it had been a good long while since he'd had a fight. He missed the adrenalin, he missed the cracking of bones and the taste of blood. It spoke to his soul that was millennia old when the world was war, ale and feasting.

Sweeney finally looked up to see that another man was fighting with him, a shorter man, stockier and well built, a nose that'd been broken at least once and the buzzcut styling of an ex-military man. The newcomer shifted his position and Sweeney saw a painted skull on his chest. His first thought was that Baron Samedi was expanding his worshipper's network but it didn't make sense for the Baron to recruit a soldier when he preferred his company to be a little more love and less war.

Who the fucking hell was this guy?

“You okay?” the man asks gruffly as he sees Sweeney staring at him. “Get out. Run.”

“I ain't fuckin' runnin',” Sweeney wrinkles his face in offence. “Do I look like a pansy to you?”

“You look fuckin' drunk is what ya look,” Skull Man counters, elbowing an attacker in the mouth. “I'll handle it. Run home.”

“Callin' me a coward?” Sweeney squares up. “I don't run, boy-o.”

“Really?” Skull Man raises an eyebrow. “Ain't the time for pride, Big Red. Fight or don't fight then. I don't care. Just stay outta my way with that one.”

He points to the man who Sweeney had knocked out on the dumpster. His eyelids were fluttering as he started to regain consciousness.

“What's it worth to ya?” Sweeney shrugs.

“Are you fuckin' kidding me?!” Skull Man storms over, coming up until he was chest to chest. “I save your ass and this is what I get?”

“Didn't ask to be saved, lad.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you, right back.”

Just at the point where Sweeney is curling his fingers into a fist, ready to give a good old right hook, he's hit hard in the head from behind and goes down onto his forearms, scuffing them with pebbles and dirt. He scrambles unsteadily to his feet, feeling a little trickle of blood oozing down the path of his hair and sees Skull Man beating the living shit out of the dumpster guy before finishing him off with his bare hands.

Sweeney, meanwhile, jumps back into the fist fight, taking down every other gang member who'd dared to get back up. They make a break for it, running desperately down into the other alleyways and out of sight.

“You'd better run!” Sweeney bellows after them. “You'd all be fucked if I still had my spear. I WAS A FUCKING KING ONCE, YOU CUNTS!”

“I've heard some drunk talk in my time but you...” Skull Man shakes his head. “You're crazy, huh?”

“I'm a god, mate,” Sweeney holds out his arms proudly, swaying on the spot.

“Sure ya are.”

“And what the fuck are you, murderer?”

“Nobody you need to know about. You ain't seen me. I don't exist. I'm just taking out the trash of this city.”

“Oh aye? Are ya? And what did he do?”

“Shot up a playground.”

“Oh...” Sweeney tails off, looking at the dead man on the floor. “Well....good then. Good work. Bastard deserved it.”

He holds out his hand and Skull Man shakes it warily. Sweeney got the sense the guy didn't interact with people much because the handshake was stilted, unsure.

“Got a name?” Sweeney asks. “Or are ya hellbent on being mysterious?”

“It's Frank,” the guy replies after a pause. “But I was-

“-Never here, I got that,” Sweeney snorts. “I'm Sweeney.”

“Sweeney the God. A'ight, go on home then. I got clean up to do.”

“Nice fightin', by the way,” Sweeney calls over his shoulder. “See ya around, Frank.”

“I fuckin' hope not,” comes the quiet response.

Sweeney didn't care though. He was too elated to care. Good booze, a good fight and the promise of going back to that sweet little diner where you were.

He'd have to come in earlier just to spend more time around you. He wanted to know everything about you and more than anything, he wanted to see your smile again.

A god he may be but your smile was absolutely magical.

He sang the whole rest of the way home, already looking forward to tomorrow.

#mad sweeney fanfic #mad sweeney x reader #mad sweeney x y/n #mad sweeney imagine #mad sweeney fic #mad sweeney series #frank castle x reader #frank castle x y/n #frank castle imagine #frank castle series #frank castle fanfic #frank castle fic #mad sweeney #frank castle #american gods #the punisher #pablo schreiber #jon bernthal

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saiilorstars · 3 years

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Fandom: Sailor Moon (Crystal) – – [Rewrite of season 2, AU-ish in that there’s new OCs and the fusion of plots from the manga, crystal and the og series]

Pairings: Eventual OCxOC, Usagi x Mamoru

Taglist: @ocfairygodmother @anotherunreadblog @maaaaarveeeeel

{If you’d like to be added to this OC’s taglist, let me know!}

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Ch.2: Sailor Hemera

"Watch where you're going!" A seemingly enraged girl called after a boy who had bumped into her because he'd been too engulfed in a gray book. "Not even an answer!" the girl scowled but sighed after a moment.

There was a light pitter-patter near her and when the girl looked down she found a purple cat beside her. The stark golden crescent moon on the cat contrasted with her dark fur.

"Luna, remind me again why I'm the only one who got to remember Sailor Moon, the Sailor Scouts and Tuxedo Mask existed?" the girl asked, huffing as if she were still angry about it. Now, it became more of a mystery.

"Because you, Azula, are exceptionally different," Luna articulated with refined elegance.

The girl, Azula, shot the cat a look. "You're sticking to that because you still haven't figured it out, either, huh?"

"Eh," Luna gave a tilt of her head.

Azula shook her head and watched after her friend, or rather ex-friend, Mamoru, who didn't even notice her anymore. A month ago Sailor Moon, or Usagi, had made everyone forget that the Sailor Scouts had existed. No one remembered any attacks from the Dark Kingdom. The scouts themselves didn't remember they were Sailor Scouts reincarnated. Usagi Tsukino didn't remember she had been a princess in her previous life. No one remembered anything...except for Azula Keena.

Azula had been a close friend of the scouts because she had managed to find out their identities. She proved herself useful with her tech abilities and quickly became a strong asset for them despite not having powers like them. One year older than them had her situated in the same school as Mamoru Chiba, although she was a year younger than him. They were friends, had been, but now he didn't remember her. In fact, he didn't remember anyone, not even Usagi who had been his grand love from a previous life.

But despite everyone losing their memories, Luna, Artemis, and Azula remembered everything. The memory wipe was not efficient with Luna and Artemis but neither had an explanation as to why Azula remembered as well. Fact was she shouldn't have. It was impossible. Yet here they were. Since then, Azula tasked herself with making sure there were no more enemies to deal with since Sailor Moon and the Scouts were out of commission. But she also tasked herself to simply look after everyone even if they didn't notice it.

"I may not be one of their scouts but I think myself as a guardian," Azula said confidently as she and Luna walked down a street after school. "A silent guardian."

"Job's taken, I'm afraid," Luna said quietly but Azula still heard and gave the cat a curious look.

"Luna, exactly how many scouts are there? Usagi made it look like it was only her, Ami, Rei, Makoto and Minako. But I've always been curious if there were more."

"That information is not necessary right now," Luna replied calmly. "So there is no need to even talk about it."

"Hm," Azula smiled to herself and continued walking.

They came across the local arcade of the district and walked in. The teenage boy behind the counter gave her a wave. Motoki was always the type to greet you with a big, wide smile. "Azula, your father said he would be taking a business trip tonight so it's going to be just you and Keiko tonight."

Azula gave a small nod. "Thanks, I'm sure Keiko's gonna love the fact she gets to babysit her dear old step-sister tonight."

He laughed. "Keiko doesn't treat you bad."

"No, she doesn't, I just like teasing her." Azula turned her back and leaned against the counter.

Her father actually owned the arcade - which made it easier to sneak into and use the underneath grounds for their secret Moon base - and he was usually in and out of the house attending to it. Azula's parents had been divorced since she could remember and she had lived with her American mother in America until her passing. At seven years, Azula had been taken in by her father in Japan and was introduced to her step-sister, Keiko Keena. Keiko wasn't actually related to Azula but they didn't care. Both girls had been an only child within their original families and wanted to experience having sisters. And after Keiko's own mother had passed away, Azula's father grew to see Keiko as his own. The were a small, complex family but nonetheless a family.

"Not again!" a girl cried in despair when she lost at the Sailor V game. She dropped her head over the controls, her long blonde hair falling down.

Azula motioned Motoki to watch her school bag for a minute while she went to the crying girl. "Usagi? Let me guess, the computer won? Again?" She laughed.

Usagi Tsukino was no stranger to losing to automated computers. She raised her head for a minute and gave a nod. "It keeps beating me."

"You might wanna try 'beginner'," Azula teased, prompting Usagi to drop her head on the controls again.

"You should be nice to your best customer!" she heard Usagi's muffled voice a second later. Azula looked down at Luna, both amusingly shaking their heads at Usagi.

"C'mon, Usagi, don't you have homework you're going to forget about or something?"

Usagi jumped from her chair like a bed spring. "I HAVE MATH TO DO!"

"There it is," Azula's voice was barely heard beside Usagi's loud shout. The blonde girl scrambled a quick goodbye, not even noticing her own cat, and ran out." Hard to believe she was actually a refined, Moon princess in another life," Azula remarked afterwards. Luna groaned beside her.

After a couple of minutes Azula and Luna left the arcade and were subjected to a sudden heat in the air that hadn't been there earlier. Though it was strange, as it really wasn't time for heat anymore, neither made a comment about it. Instead, Azula opted for a lunch on her own. Luna wasn't surprised by it though since nearly every day, at the exact hour, Minako Aino, Makoto Kino and Mamoru Chiba all ate their lunches, separately, but there. Azula just liked watching them all, even if it was from afar. Fruits Parlor Crown was a nostalgic place.

"There is no rule that you cannot speak to any of them," Luna would say just before Azula walked into the restaurant.

"Usagi wanted to be normal and I'm trying to respect that. Everyone wanted to be normal. The only reason I talk to her is because you're with me and, well, kinda awkward," Azula sucked in a breath and greeted Motoki's younger sister, Unazuki, the waitress before finding an empty table.

Just like each day she would come in, Azula pretended to do her homework while she ate. This was the only times where she could more or less learn what went on with her friends without actually talking to them. She knew it was probably strange but she really didn't want to compromise their memories. She already carried the burden of remembering everything that happened and, while Luna and Artemis did keep up at the base, she felt like it was her responsibility to be on the look out for anything potentially dangerous. She was the person, after all, that remembered everything - that had to count for something right? She wasn't just like any ordinary person.

"What's...that…?" Unazuki's voice pulled Azula from her mathematics book. The young girl was pointing at the glass window where they all saw a black cloud literally floating.

Azula's eyes widened in alarm, and frankly fear. She got up from her chair and stared in bewilderment as the cloud floated past the cafe in broad daylight. Everyone else in the cafe were doing the same thing.

Luna rushed out the door without even warning Azula.

"Luna!" cried Azula before running out herself. Her red, flaming hair bopped as she hurried down the stairs to get to the street.

There was a loud scream down the street and it was of course due to the black puff of cloud. It had captured someone, apparently, and had everyone else around running away from it. Azula skidded to a halt and gasped at the sight. The black cloud, which now began to look more like a shadow, had entangled a young woman with black thunder that kept the woman still, but in pain.

"I need the Shadow Crystal!" the purple-black cloud demanded.

"It talks?" Azula was frazzled but Luna skipped that part and went on to the concern stage.

"Somebody's got to help her!"

Azula turned sideways to find Makoto a couple inches behind her. From further behind Azula spotted Minako and Mamoru apart from each other. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me…"

"We're going to have to call Usagi!" Luna warned Azula, but both knew that even if they did do that Usagi would not get there in time to save the poor woman.

The victim screamed as something was pulled right from her chest: a shining white crystal with freckles of gold.

"A white crystal!?" went the black shadow, obviously angry at the results. "You have wasted Senka's time, puny human!" the black thunder around the woman vanished and the woman dropped to the ground. The white crystal slowly lowered until it returned to the woman's body. "I shall try another one!" and the cloud suddenly moved in the direction of Azula.

"Luna I don't suppose you could grant me temporary powers…?" Azula took a step back.

"I'm afraid not…" and Luna truly lamented it. She was sure Azula would have made a fine Sailor Scout.

"Yeah…" Azula gulped.

"Halt!" went a new, feminine voice that froze the cloud for a moment. "You shall not go any further!"

Azula, and the others, followed the voice up to the top of a parked truck across the street. There stood a woman with long, straight brown hair and stark, golden eyes. She was dressed in a long-sleeved body suit tucked underneath a pleated, light brown skirt with golden hemlines and matching short, golden boots with light, brown laces. The top part of the body suit exposed her middle with light, brown thick strings running across. There was a golden jewel piece going around her forehead, reminding Azula of the tiaras the Sailor Scouts wore, only this one had a golden sphere at the center. It matched the golden sphere necklace around her neck.

While everyone stared in awe, Mamoru felt a sharp jab at the side of his head.

Young Prince Endymion had wandered from the castle and came across a lonely field of almost dry grass. It was strange because as far as he knew everything on Earth was full of life and cared for. Something was wrong.

He stepped over the long weeds and keenly looked around for anything more suspicious. Suddenly, he crashed into a wall - an invisible wall. He had to shake his head just to see if it had been his own illusion. He reached out and came across a wall, indeed, that rippled upon his touch.

"Halt," a female voice commanded.

Endymion turned to find a woman, similar in age to him at least by appearance. Long, straight, brown hair billowed in the wind that wasn't there a minute ago. Dressed in shades of gold and light brown, she held out a golden sword towards him.

"You must not pass," she warned. Endymion looked around just to make sure the woman was talking to him and not someone who perhaps followed him. His generals were no stranger to doing that. "Yes, prince, I am speaking to you," the woman read his thoughts and gave a small smile. "I know who you are, and I know you must be very confused but I cannot allow you to get any further."

"Who are you?" Endymion finally found his voice and began to demand. He knew every possible fighter in the Kingdom and he had never seen the woman before.

The woman lowered her weapon and got down on one knee. "I am Sailor Hemera, an honorary Shadow scout of light and day, protector of the barrier between the Earth Kingdom and the Shadow kingdom."

"The...Shadow kingdom…?"

Sailor Hemera's golden eyes raised up to the Prince. "The Shadow Kingdom led by Queen Nyx and her daughter, Princess Reign."

Could that be the same woman he just saw? And if so, why had he seen that vision all of a sudden? Mamoru wasn't sure, but he definitely wasn't leaving now.

"Step away from the nice girl or suffer the consequences," the mysterious woman ordered calmly of the shadow.

The shadow cackled. Apparently, the woman had been funny. "And just who do you think you are little girl?"

The woman, who seemed young in appearance, regarded the shadow with pure disdain. She somersaulted off the truck and landed gracefully on her feet. "An honorary Guardian of Shadow, I am the Sailor Scout of Day and Light! I am...Sailor Hemera!"

"A Sailor Scout!?" Azula nearly fell backwards. Luna too was gaping.

"You are from Shadow?" the cloud, Senka, suddenly grew interested.

"And you are from the Shadow Dominion, are you not?" Sailor Hemera raised her head. "I knew there was a reason why I was awakened. You want the Shadow Crystal, don't you?"

"I am Senka, created by the Trinity Guardians. I am the Queen of the Shadow Dominion and I will find my Shadow Crystal!"

"The Shadow Crystal was never yours!" Sailor Hemera reached to her forehead where the golden circle suddenly sprouted headband fabric, forming a clean, clear headband altogether around her head. "Glimmering boomerang attack!" she flung the tiara towards Senka.

"Watch out!" Makoto had yanked Azula backwards as the boomerang whipped in the area. Azula nearly fell back if Minako hadn't rushed up to help keep her steady.

The boomerang went right through Senka but she groaned like it had actually hurt her. Gold power swirled within her shadow form for a couple of seconds. "I am not strong yet!" Senka cried and vanished into thin air.

Sailor Hemera caught her golden boomerang and easily placed it back on her forehead.

"I-is she gone?" Azula asked just as Sailor Hemera turned to leave.

"Yes, but she wasn't defeated. Senka will return and look for the Shadow Crystal again."

"What is that? A-and who are you?"

"Sailor Hemera," Mamoru spoke before the woman could. Everyone turned to look at him but he was busy staring at Sailor Hemera herself. She seemed startled by his determination that it was her. No human should have that much recognition of her and yet here was this one…

"You should all be careful," Sailor Hemera warned deeply and made her getaway.

Makoto and Minako went to see how the victim was doing but Azula remained in her spot unable to do anything. She looked down at Luna who was just as concerned as she was, then they both glanced at Mamoru. He had remembered? No...that couldn't be it. But then why was he staring at the Sailor Scout the way he was?

#ocappreciation #sailor moon #sailor moon crystal #usagi tsukino #mamoru chiba #sailor moon fics #sailor moon imagines #sailor moon crystal fics #oc: azula keena #fic: reign from the shadows

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undeadsnorlax · 3 years

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Stick ‘Em Up

Archive of Our Own

@badthingshappenbingo

I have been struck with Punisher brainrot the last few weeks, so why not fill a prompt up with my man Castle. my first time writing for this universe (or at least, first time publishing). and it’s sort of...my own version of the Marvel universe because canon is a playground and I’m a child who wants to break the swings.

Prompt: Hostage Situation

Fandom: Marvel Comics/The Punisher

Warnings: Canon-typical violence (all the stuff you’d expect from the Punisher, guns and killing)

Wordcount: 4596

Four robbers. Fifteen civilians. And one Punisher.

Or, Frank goes to the bank to cash a cheque and ends up caught in a hostage situation.

“Hey. Can you talk?”

“Yeah, yeah. Keep it quiet though. I’m in public.”

“Ooo, anywhere nice?”

“No. The bank.”

Frank could practically hear Micro rolling his eyes at his bluntness from the other side of the phone, only covered by the slight rumble of his computer chair moving across the floor.

“Cashing the cheque you got from Monroe, huh?”

Frank wrinkled his nose, peering over the line of people in front of him. “Uh-huh. I need a restock. Think you can arrange a meeting with Jackson?”

“Mm, sure can. I still can’t believe Monroe tried to bribe you into not killing him,” Micro scoffed, the usual click-clack of his keyboard audible under his voice, “Like, who the hell does that? You sure it’s a good idea to do this so soon though? The guy only just died…”

“Hasn’t been reported yet.” He dropped his voice, adding a slight growl as he spoke. “Probably won’t for a while, given where he’s laying now.”

“Urgh. I hate when you do that voice.”

On the other end of the line, there were a few beeps and bwoops, as Micro let out a content hum. “Anyway, called because I got more info on Ray Broad. I’ll drop it off at the usual spot at seven – sorry, at nineteen hundred hours. Then I’ll get Jackson to meet you in the usual spot at twenty-three hundred, ask if he’s got anything new in. Think you’ll be done by then?”

Frank shuffled up in the line, seemingly no closer to the front than when he’d started. “Hopefully. Thanks. Keep in touch.”

“Wow, that all I get-“

He hit the hang up button before Micro could finish, tucking his phone back into his jacket. With a small huff, he shoved his hands into his pockets, glancing around the rest of the bank. Every other line seemed just as slow, the other two that were open, the workers behind the glass looking stressed to get through everyone in good time.

Understaffed maybe?

“Hey grandma, hurry up will you?”

Frank’s attention moved to face ahead of him. He was only three people away from the counter. Currently being served was an elderly woman, and just behind her some impatient suit who crossed his arms.

The old lady turned around, a hand to her chest as she scowled. “Excuse me?”

“Sir, please,” the teller said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, “I understand this is taking a while but-“

“You heard me,” the suit scoffed, ignoring the teller entirely, “Hurry your ass! You’re holding everyone up!”

Frank rolled his eyes a little, tuning out the conversation. Not my problem. Sooner he could get out of here, the better.

He wouldn’t usually waste time like this, but financing could be hard for vigilantes, and it was only a matter of days before Monroe’s body washed up somewhere along the East River. Or parts of him, anyway.

Six grand to save his life. Cheapskate even in the face of death. But it’d get Frank enough bullets to down another several jerks, so he could hardly complain.

The automatic doors at the entrance swung open again. He looked out of habit, keeping cautious to any small sound.

A group of four breezed in, nothing exactly out of the ordinary as three of them separated out to different corners of the room, one staying lingering by the door.

The hairs at the back of his neck pricked up.

They were each wearing a mask, those creepy ones you could get at a craft store in different vibrant colours. Somehow nobody had noticed, but then again not everyone was Frank Castle, years of extensive military training and intense paranoia all rolled up into one man.

The suit and old lady were still arguing, the teller desperately looking toward one of her co-workers for help. The woman just in front of Frank tutted, turning back to make some comment to him about this behaviour, but he was already distracted by flitting his focus on each of the newcomers, watching as one began to lock the door, when-

Bang-bang!

The sound of gunshots rang through the building, the presumably lead dipshit pointing a gun in the air as they looked around.

“Everyone on the ground, now!”

The security shutter was slammed over the door, as a few patrons let out a scream, another shot being fired.

“Nobody move or try anything funny, and this will be over soon.” He swerved around, nodding at the three bank tellers. “We’ve already disabled the alarm system, so don’t even try.”

“Shit,” Frank hissed, slipping his hand inside his jacket before cursing again.

No gun. Not even a goddamn combat knife. Out of character. He gritted his teeth as he remembered he’d just washed this jacket, forgot to put something into the concealed holster in his rush to get this over with. Idiot. You always double check!

Two of the robbers advanced at the counter, pistols outstretched. Frank glanced over what they were wielding – 9mm, semi-automatic. Browning, maybe? Not a scratch, they’re brand new. And it was obvious from how they held them. They had some conviction, some cocky air, but it was clear they’d barely even held the things before.

“I said get down!”

One swung around, aiming at the impatient suited guy from earlier. The guy hesitated just a second too long, frozen at the sight of the gun barrel staring him down, and was met with the base of the pistol smacked into the side of his head.

This was serious then.

He quickly dropped to his knees, hands raised up and shaking. Soon everyone followed, until Frank was the last one standing.

He hesitated, glancing around the room. Four robbers. Fifteen civilians.

And one Punisher.

“Hey! You listening?”

Reluctantly for now, Frank raised his hands and put them behind his head, kneeling down. He’d just have to wait.

“You two, keep everyone here in check,” the leader said, walking up to the staff door and kicking it open.

He reappeared on the other side of the counter and immediately grabbed the wrist of the clerk that had been serving Frank’s line, pinning it behind her back and lodging his gun to her neck. She tried to yell out, but the gun was just shoved harder.

“Shut it! You’re gonna take us through to the safes. Cyrus, you’re with me.”

The last guy nodded, jogging up before the three disappeared into the back room.

Frank swallowed, figuring out how to do this. He never usually found himself on this side of a situation, even when things went really bad. Even then, he usually had something to hand from his arsenal to help him. For now, all he had was his wits.

He took in the two left behind. One in a pink mask, one in a yellow. The leader had been wearing a black one, while the ‘Cyrus’ guy he’d yelled for was in blue. Good way to distinguish them all.

Yellow started to pace around the others being held hostage, whilst Pink, who’d been the one to hit the suited guy, stayed nearby, bouncing on his toes uneasily. It was almost impressive that out of this team of four, only one of them was fully confident, and they’d still managed to get this far, even for a bank branch so small.

Almost impressive.

“Can’t believe we’re doing this in broad daylight,” Pink said, rolling his head around his neck, “This feels too easy.”

“Dude, shut up,” Yellow snapped, kicking someone’s bag out of the way as he passed them, “Okay? Blayke knows what we’re looking for, and we’ll be outta here before anyone realises something’s up.” “I’m just saying, wouldn’t it be easier at night?”

He has a point, Frank thought, watching their movements carefully, Why would you break in during the day?

A whimper came from Frank’s side, distracting him. The woman who had been in front of him in line had huddled in on herself as much as she could, shaking like crazy as tears rolled down her face. He waited a moment until Pink turned away from them, before leaning in a little closer, keeping his voice hushed.

“Hey. What’s your name?”

The woman looked up, puzzled as she sniffed. “I-it’s Moira…”

“Okay Moira, I’m Frank.” He gave his best smile, as warm as he could manage right now. “I’ll get us out of this, okay?”

“How the hell are you gonna do that?!” came the hissed voice of the suited guy, gritting his teeth as he made sure the robber didn’t hear, “They have guns.”

“You have me,” Frank replied. Blunt and honest. “You got a name?”

“Jeremy, and-“ He cut himself off, eyes widening. “Wait, are you an Avenger?”

Frank couldn’t help scoffing, shuffling on his knees a little. If he timed it right, he could probably launch himself up from this position and have one of these assholes on the floor before the other could fire. Or maybe-

“Or like, an X-Men? Or...X-Man? Is...is that the singular?”

Oh, he’s still talking.

“Keep it down. I’m not-“

“Daredevil?”

Frank glared ahead. He went to snap some retort, but was beaten to the punch by the elderly lady smacking Jeremy across his arm.

“Hush, will you? He’s twice the size of Daredevil.” She leaned forward a little, aiming such a sweet smile in Frank’s direction. “Gladys, by the way.”

He blinked and nodded his greeting. Forming a whole little gang here...they could be useful though.

“Do you mean it though?”

Moira’s voice was weak, cracking at the edges as she kept sniffing loudly. “Can you really help us?”

“Yeah. I’ll make sure of it.”

“Hey! Keep it quiet back there!” Pink snapped, glancing over his shoulder.

Frank grinded his teeth together, glancing at the three to his side. He wouldn’t usually involve normal citizens, but he needed to disarm at least one of these jerks...just needed to bring them closer.

“I’m gonna need you to play along,” he whispered, just enough so the three of them heard, “Follow my lead.”

He waited for them all to nod, and he swallowed heavily. Drama had never been his strong suit in school, but he’d have to try.

He scrunched his face up and groaned loudly, lowering his hands to clutch his stomach. This didn’t draw any attention, so Gladys leaned forward a little.

“You alright sweetheart?” she cooed.

Frank forced a fake whine, doubling over and gripping his middle tighter. Moira gulped back some tears and called out.

“H-hey! Excuse me! This guy’s hurt here!”

Pink glanced down at Frank, before looking over at Yellow on the other side of the room. “What’s the protocol?”

“I dunno,” Yellow said, shrugging dismissively, “We were just told to watch them.”

Frank groaned again, slowly inching the zipper of his jacket down. Might as well make this a big entrance when it came to it.

“I know first aid,” Jeremy piped up with a shaky voice, making as if he was going to move, but the gun was pointed in his direction once more.

“You stay there!” Pink barked. He trailed off a little as Frank fell forward onto his elbows, starting to pant a little. “He seriously doesn’t look good Yas. Is this like, a heart attack or something?”

“Christ, just check him, then let that douchebag there help if it’s something serious.”

Perfect.

Irritatingly, Pink holstered his pistol as he came over, tucked into the pocket of his pants, but he could still reach it easily if he was quick enough.

Pink crouched down, putting a hand to Frank’s shoulder and rolling him onto his side a little.

“You good man? You got some kinda meds you need or-”

He froze. Thank God for strong branding and very few of Frank’s clothes not having it. With his jacket now unzipped, there was no missing the skull logo emblazoned on the shirt underneath.

Barely visible behind the holes of the mask, Pink’s eyes bulged. Frank allowed himself a quick grin.

“Shit, Yas, it’s the Pun-!”

Frank didn’t give him much more of a chance to finish as he lunged a hand toward his throat, sitting up in the same swift motion.

Pink was slammed to the floor, choking and flailing helplessly as Frank used his other hand to grab the pistol. My arm is now complete!

“What the fuck-“

Yellow’s focus was drawn to the scene now, as Frank scrambled to his feet, pacing forward as he quickly checked over the gun. Safety off, fully loaded clip. Cheap and cheerful, but it’d do whatever job he asked of it.

Pink still flailed on the ground, pointing at the skull as he desperately tried to catch his breath once more. Yellow faltered, taking a step back in shock.

“He’s the Punisher?!” Jeremy hissed behind him.

“We can do this quickly,” Frank said, dropping his voice down from his previous casual tone, “Best not to draw it out.”

“Thought you were more shoot first, ask questions later,” Yellow said, barely hiding the nervous chuckle he let out, “Too much collateral damage around for the Punisher?

Shit. The asshole wasn’t wrong. Frank was an exact shot, but it almost wasn’t worth killing these jerks at the risk of the civilians' lives.

Yellow took advantage of that hesitation, grabbing one of the other hostages and holding his gun to her head as she cried out. Frank sucked in through his teeth, calculating how he could do this. If he was clever, he’d manage to hit his hand or maybe his leg, something enough to get him to drop the hostage…

From behind him there was a yell, as Pink finally recovered and ran forward, attempting in vain to rush Frank and push him down. Of course it did nothing, other than piss him off when he was already in a bad mood.

It almost wasn’t worth killing them.

Frank swung a punch into his gut, winding him enough that he stumbled. Pink gasped, clutching his stomach, but still tried to run at him again. Frank huffed, grabbing Pink by the collar, fingers twisting the fabric of his shirt as he lifted him up, just enough that his toes were still on the ground.

He glanced at the pistol still in his hand.

“Wait, no, no, don’t-!”

The gun was lodged under Pink’s chin and fired without another thought.

There were a few screams as the body hit the floor with that dull thud he was numb to. He turned back, wiping the splashes of blood from his cheek with the heel of his hand, teeth bared.

Yellow started to shake, glancing around. Frank moved closer, head cocked to his shoulder.

“Let her go bud,” he growled, tensing the fingers of his free hand, “Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

Yellow’s knees buckled slightly, losing all confidence in a few seconds as his gun fell to his side. He still had some cockiness left, as he shoved the hostage right into Frank, unexpectedly enough that he stumbled.

With Frank briefly distracted, muttering an apology to the lady as he got her steady, Yellow tried to make a break for it, rushing toward the staff door the rest of his crew had disappeared into earlier. Before he could make it, however, Gladys threw out her handbag, causing him to get tangled in the strap and trip into the ground with a hard smack.

Thank you grandma, Frank thought with a raised brow, rushing over and standing over Yellow, pressing one heavy boot down into his back.

He tossed a look back at the other customers, then toward the remaining bank tellers, still cowering behind the counter. “Keep quiet. Get that door open and get these people to safety. I’ll take it from here.”

The nearest one nodded, hurrying out and toward the entrance, as several of the hostages started to get to their feet, confused but clearly relieved as they awkwardly sidestepped Pink’s body.

Under his foot, Yellow whimpered. Frank just pushed down harder with a soft growl, a finger tensed against the pistol's trigger guard. “One wrong move kid, and I’ll-“

A hand brushed against his elbow, causing him to flinch as he turned his head, but it was only Moira, still sniffing. Lucky he wasn’t so itchy on the trigger.

“...thank you,” she whispered, smiling weakly as she moved to the exit.

Frank blinked, but gave a small nod, watching as the doors were opened and everyone filed out. He stayed where he was, glancing at the staff door every so often just in case. Still, he caught Jeremy immediately getting his phone out, grabbing his wrist as he passed.

“You better be calling your mommy.”

Jeremy hissed from the grip, struggling to pull away, letting Frank read the 911 already typed onto the screen.

“You’re the goddamn Punisher!” Jeremy said, stumbling as Frank finally let him go, “You killed a guy in front of us!”

“A guy who smacked you with a gun. You’re bruising already.” Frank blew out a dismissive breath, rolling his shoulders. “You wanna call the cops? Go ahead. I’ll be finished before they get here.”

He watched Jeremy fluster. The guy clearly wanted to argue, do some moral highhorsing or whatever it was people who didn’t understand his work did, but one half-hearted glare was all it took for him to back down.

“I’m still calling the authorities!” he cried, showing he’d hit dial on his phone’s screen as he stormed out.

Frank grunted, now alone in the bank’s lobby. Great. Got a time limit now.

Under his boot, Yellow squirmed. He’d almost forgotten about this asshole.

“What are you gonna do to me?” Yellow asked, voice quiet.

“Was waiting for it to be just the two of us, that’s all.” Frank wrinkled his nose, lifting the pistol up and aiming it at the back of Yellow’s head. “Traumatised the civilians enough killing your buddy. But, before I do anything...are you part of some bigger thing?”

Yellow started to answer, but Frank’s heel dug into his spine. “And as you can imagine, I don’t like liars.”

“N-no...there’s a few others, but we’re small time. Smaller than small, barely worth the time. I swear.”

He yelled out as Frank ground his boot down, pushing his full weight into him.

“Mould can start small,” he said, coldly, “Something you can ignore. But it grows eventually if you don’t take care of it, cause a lot more problems later down the line. Address. Names. Now.”

“I don’t know any, I never dealt with the higher ups. That’s Blayke’s job!”

Frank raised a brow. “That the one in the black mask?”

Yellow gasped for air, nodding. “Yeah. That’s all I know. I swear. We’re not important.”

“What the fuck-?!”

Frank looked up, to see the Blue masked robber standing behind the counter. He huffed, firing two shots off into Yellow’s head, feeling the breath leave under him. He’d outlived his usefulness.

Blue gulped, frozen and shaking on the spot. Frank quickly ducked to grab Yellow’s gun, still on the floor where he’d dropped it, tucking it into the waistband of his jeans, before walking through the staff door toward him.

“Yo, Cy! What’s with the racket?” came the leader’s voice from the other room, “Pierce acting up?”

Frank tilted his head, then pressed a finger to his lips, before making a turning gesture. Blue nodded obediently, doing as he was told. He was still shaking, but did well in disguising that anything was out of place as he called back.

“N...nothing boss. All good here. Yeah, just Pierce flexing a little, no worries.”

“Good man,” Frank whispered, stepping up behind and snapping the man’s neck with ease. Compliance deserved something swift.

He fell to the ground like a sack of flour, leaving his mask ripe for plucking off.

Frank took Blue’s face in. He looked young.

Wrong crowd huh kid? he thought, putting the mask on and walking through the back room.

The black masked guy was distracted, standing in front of a wall of half-open safety deposit boxes, most of their contents discarded to the floor.

“Where the fuck is it?!” he cried, turning to glare at the bank teller, cowering in one corner, “You said it was here!”

“I-I opened the safes with the numbers you gave me, there’s not much else I can do-!”

Frank cleared his throat to let them know of his presence. Black turned around, but barely looked, still clearly too frustrated to see his companion had grown a few inches and gained thirty pounds of muscle.

“It’s not here,” he said with a huff, pulling his mask off and throwing it to the ground, revealing another younger guy, “We were lied to.”

“Hm. What a waste.”

Black blinked, finally actually looking at Frank, and of course homing in on the skull.

“Oh...oh shit…! What happened to Cyrus?”

“What do you think?” Frank asked, ripping the mask off with a snap of cheap elastic, “Now let the lady go and we can have a nice civil discussion.”

Black had started to fire at him before he even finished his sentence. Frank was anticipating it though, and dived to the floor, rolling out of the way and behind a nearby desk.

“Shame,” he muttered, checking the one pistol again quickly before firing a few shots over the desk.

They pinged off the wall behind Black, one managing to graze his shoulder and making him hiss out in pain. He kicked down a nearby table to use as his shield, but not before grabbing the poor clerk and dragging her behind.

“Leave her go!” Frank barked, pressing the trigger only to fire blanks, “Shit.”

“No way Punisher,” Black said, his voice shaking, “If I’m gonna die today, I wanna at least put up a fight.”

He peered over the table at just the right moment for Frank to lob the empty gun in his direction, smacking him in the forehead. He fell back, but Frank knew it was nowhere near enough to kill him.

That was until he heard a dull thunk. Then another. What the hell?

Grabbing the second pistol from his waistband, he scrambled over to see the bank teller holding the barrel end of the gun he’d thrown. She brought it down again, slamming the base of the magazine against Black’s head. Blood was starting to trickle down the robber’s face, too dazed now to react.

“Asshole!” she screeched, going again but was met with resistance as Frank grabbed her wrist.

“Hey. Hey. It’s okay. I’ll deal with it.”

She gulped, seemingly coming back to her senses, as she let Frank help her to her feet.

“Is everyone safe?” she asked, watching as he crouched over Black.

“All the customers and your co-workers are, yes. These guys…” He sniffed. “Not so much.”

He paused a moment, before reaching into his jacket, holding out a small brown envelope to her.

“I...I came to cash a cheque. I still gotta get some more info outta this jerk, then leave as soon as possible. You mind getting my money?”

“Psh. Gladly.”

She hurried out of the room, leaving Frank to slap Black’s cheek, making sure he was still awake. He startled a tad, still trying to reach for his own gun that had fallen in the fight, but Frank pushed it further out of reach.

“Your buddy told me you know who hired you,” he growled, digging a knee into his stomach, “So talk. Names, anything.”

“I…I don’t have a name.”

Click. The pistol was pressed to his temple. Black whined.

“I mean it! The closest I got was ‘benefactor’. They call me, me and my boys do their shit. Easy as.”

Frank watched his face then grunted. This much was certainly true. “What were you looking for?”

“A necklace or some shit? With a locket on it. I dunno, I assume it was worth a tonne.”

As if reading his mind, Black added, “Drop off location given only when we reported having got it.”

“Hm. Must be pretty valuable to them.”

Frank was certain he could hear sirens in the distance. Hurry up…

“So that’s everything you got for me, huh?”

“Look, Castle, c’mon,” Black said, gripping at his wrist, struggling in vain to pull the gun away from his head, “I could help! Just give me a chance.”

“Think you screwed any chance you had when you took me hostage.”

His brains were splattered across the floor before he could argue any further.

***

“...and onto our main story. Five branches of the Brighter Bank were attacked at various locations around the city today. At exactly two-fourteen this afternoon, groups of masked individuals held up the banks, going through the safety deposit boxes in search of some unknown item.”

Frank sipped his coffee, eyes not moving from the TV in the corner of the cafe. Micro furrowed his brow, slipping a folder into his hand under the table.

“Thankfully, no civilians were injured,” the newscaster continued, the screen splitting to show another reporter, “However, the bodies of four robbers were found at the Brighter Bank located on Jasmine Avenue. With us is Hailey Edwards at the scene.”

The on-location reporter nodded and took over, gesturing at the cordoned off building behind her. “Eyewitness reports from those held at the building today say the deaths were the work of violent vigilante, Frank Castle, also known as The Punisher.”

“Jesus Christ, Frank,” Micro muttered, picking at the fries on his plate, “You ever take a day off?”

“You know I can’t,” Frank said, flicking through the folder on his lap quickly, before slipping it into the backpack he’d brought that sat at his side, ”Thanks again.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“Police are currently investigating what could have been taken, and are heightening security around all Brighter Banks starting tomorrow. They urge any and all witnesses to step forward if they have any useful information, and also stress – do not approach the Punisher. Despite the reports of him safely getting all the hostages out today, police wish to remind the public that Castle is a highly dangerous individual.”

“How are things boys?” the waitress asked as she approached the table, pot of coffee in hand.

Frank gave her a warm smile, holding out his mug. “Wonderful as ever, Aggie.”

“Aw, that’s nice.”

She refilled his cup before walking on. Micro sighed a little, leaning forward on the table.

“You get any idea what those hold-ups were about?”

“Not much.” Frank poked at his half-eaten burger, wrinkling his nose. “They were hired by some other force. Searching for some locket, but they didn’t find it there. When I interrogated the guy that was meant to know, he said they only talk on the phone. Never met ‘em face-to-face. Maybe one of those other teams found whatever it was.”

“Jeez.” Micro ran his hand over his hair, glancing back at the TV once more. “It even worth pursuing further?”

“...no. Think it was just an ordinary locket. Hope so, anyway.”

Frank tapped at his backpack, raising a brow. “Bigger fish to fry right now. Wanna put my focus into bringing Broad down.”

“If you say so…”

Micro trailed off a little then smirked, getting that look in his eye that meant Frank immediately knew whatever was next out his mouth would irritate him.

“I still can’t believe you got caught up in a hostage situation.”

Frank grunted, taking a bite of his burger so he didn’t have to answer properly. “Shuddup Micro…”

#trope: hostage situation #badthingshappenbingo #the punisher #marvel fic #undeadbthb

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sourwolf-sterek32 · 4 years

Text

Unforgettable Memories ( Daryl Dixon x Reader )

Summary: Y/N Grimes is Rick’s younger sister. You used to be in the military and have enough PTSD to last a lifetime. With Shane’s help you created the quarry camp and came across the Dixon brother’s in the woods. You bought them back to camp, but after that everything changed and you were still trying to figure out if that was a good thing or not.

Pairings: Daryl Dixon x Rick’s Sister!Reader

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: Blood, guts, language (just usual twd warnings)

Chapter 30-

Lori and Carl were both dead. They were gone and you never got to say goodbye...

Over the past five years you had learnt to accept that they were probably dead and that you'd never see them again, but then Rick told you that everything was fine. That the group was fine, but that was a lie, nothing was fine. Lori was dead, Carl was dead, what about the others?

"Who else?" You asked, although you weren't sure you actually wanted to know.

"Patricia, Jimmy, Hershel, Beth, T-Dog, Andrea, Glenn." Daryl listed off as you stared at the ground in disbelief. Nearly everyone was dead, the whole group was basically dead.

"Carol's at another community called Kingdom, 'n Maggie's at a community called Hilltop. All the communities trade together 'n help each other, they're both fine." Daryl reassured and you nodded ever so slightly, relieved that they were okay, but you still couldn't stop thinking about the others. About Carl, about Lori, about Glenn, about the kids you had to kill today. God, it was all too much. Wait, Lori was pregnant. Did she have the baby or did she die before?

"Lori was pregnant... did she..." You trailed off, really not wanting to know the answer because you couldn't take any more deaths, but you had to know.

You glanced over your shoulder towards Daryl, who had sat down beside you on the ground sometime while you were completely out of it and crying, his arm wrapped around your shoulder.

"She had the baby, but died during child birth. Judith is her daughter." Michonne answered and your head snapped around towards the two kids still playing on the ground on the other side of the room as you stared at the little blonde girl beside Sophia.

Judith... Carl's favourite school teacher was Judith, it was his third grade teacher, he must have named her.

You smiled softly at your small discovery as you stared at Judith, only just realising how much she actually looked like Lori. But, you couldn't quite tell if she was Rick's or Shane's, although that didn't really matter anymore. Shane was dead. He didn't even get to meet his daughter. But, Rick would have raised her and he would have raised her right, just like he did with Carl. Rick was a good father.

"Wait, I thought you said Judith was your daughter?" You asked, glancing over at Michonne while you still sat on the ground, your face wet with tears, but you didn't have the energy to wipe them away.

"Does she look like my real daughter?" Michonne chuckled lightly as she wiped her teary eyes with a sad smile.

"She's my daughter in every way, but blood. Rick and I are together. I helped him raise her, the whole group helped." She explained and your eyes went wide with shock as relief flooded your body. You were glad that she was there to help Rick, especially having to raise his daughter just as his wife died.

"So, your unborn baby is his?" You asked, with a hint of a smile forming on your lips and Michonne nodded.

You sat there for a few minutes as you watched Sophia and Judith play, before you forced yourself to stand up as you glanced outside taking note of how low the sun was in the sky. There was probably still a few hours of daylight left, you had to get Rick.

"I need to go get, Rick. Can I take that school bus and a jerry can of fuel with me?" You asked, glancing between Daryl and Michonne as Daryl stood up from the ground with a confused expression.

"I need more fuel for the helicopter. Rick won't be able to walk down the fire escape like I did to get out the building, he's fine, but he's still recovering." You explained.

"Yeah, but I'm going with ya." Daryl responded, but you quickly shook your head. You needed Daryl to stay here and look after Sophia. After today you did not want her out there if she doesn't have to be, and you did not trust anyone else to keep her safe in this community.

"Dixon, do you trust me? I know it's been years, I know people change, but do you trust me?" You asked, taking a step towards him and he nodded.

"Yeah."

"Then trust me with this and let me do it. I need you to keep Sophia safe. I'm not letting her back out there after what just happened, promise me you'll keep her safe until I get back?" You asked and Daryl stared at you for a few seconds, clearly contemplating what to do before he glanced over at his daughter on the ground.

"Yeah, I promise." He muttered, clearly not happy about it.

"Mommy, I don't want you to go." Sophia's voice suddenly said and you turned around to find her walking over to you as she wrapped her arms around your legs. She wasn't listening to any of your conversations earlier, but happened to listen to this? Typical.

"I know sweetie. But I gotta go get Uncle Rick and bring him back." You explained and she nodded. "Good, now you stay here with your daddy. He's a good man and mommy loves him very much, do whatever he says okay?" You asked, glancing over at Daryl who was already looking at you with a small smile on his lips.

"Okay." Sophia replied.

Daryl honestly had no idea how deal with everything that's happened in the past 12 hours. First he finds out Y/N is alive, then he finds out that he has a 5-year-old daughter that he never knew about. The he finds out that Rick never actually died and Y/N had been looking after him for the past month.

Daryl was currently sitting in the lounge room of Michonne's house. Aaron, Eugene, Rosita, Gabriel, Siddiq and Tara all sitting and standing around the room while Michonne told them about Y/N and how Rick was still alive.

He sat there silently as he listened, still trying to process everything himself. He leant back into the couch, Sophia sitting on his lap as she fiddled her slingshot that Daryl had noticed was tucked into her belt.

His daughter had a slingshot. Y/N had taught her how to use a slingshot, holy shit.

He used to have a slingshot when he was her age, just some old scrappy thing that Merle made him in the garage, but it worked and he took down his first bird with it. That's how he started off hunting, walking through the woods with his slingshot in his hand and a pocket full of small rocks for ammo, and now his daughter had one too.

"I can't believe he's alive. We have to get word out to Kingdom and Hilltop, they need to know." Tara announced, clearly the first person to process what Michonne had told them as she glanced around the room.

Daryl had no idea how she took everything in so quickly, he was still caught up on the fact that Y/N was alive, that she was alive and had a daughter, had his daughter.

"Y/N said that she should be back some time tomorrow, if the bus doesn't break down or anything. It will probably be better for Rick to go to the communities personally rather than sending a note." Michonne responded and Daryl was astonished to how well Michonne had dealt with all this news.

They had spent every day throughout the past month looking for Rick's body. She found his gun and then found out she was pregnant when her clothes weren't fitting right anymore and now she found out he was still alive.

"What if it breaks down? Y/N was shot in the leg, she couldn't walk to whatever hospital she had Rick in while carrying the two jerry cans of fuel." Siddiq spoke up and Daryl shook his head.

These people did not know Y/N. She helped him climb up a damn cliff face when he was shot by his own bolt. All while she had a broken wrist and was recovering from a dislocated kneecap. She was the strongest and most stubborn girl he knew, but he still wished he went with her.

"Nah, she's strong. If she says she'll be back tomorrow, then she'll be back tomorrow." He responded glancing down at Sophia in his lap who was now trying to braid Gracie's hair as the younger girl sat in Aaron's lap beside him.

"Didn't even know Rick had a sister or you had a girlfriend, no offence." Eugene commented from his seat cross the room, but Daryl shook his head to show that he wasn't offended.

Once the group realised that Y/N was gone he never even looked at another woman like how he did with Y/N. It just felt wrong and he had no idea how Rick did it after Lori died, but he just couldn't. There wasn't any other girls like her and frankly he didn't want anyone else.

"Carl used to always talk about her, but Rick didn't. He never liked talking about her after she died or so he thought." Michonne replied and Daryl smiled softly remembering the times when Carl used to share stories about Y/N whenever Rick wasn't in the room. At first he used to hate it, but over time he began to enjoy hearing the stories and thinking about her.

"She was in the military before all this, apparently. Carl thought the world of her and used to say how badass she was and how she could easily deck Rick if she wanted to and how nothing used to scared her. I didn't believe him until today when Y/N showed up and saved us." Michonne explained and Carl was right with the first two things, but Daryl knew she was scared of some stuff, like those assholes in Afghanistan who he hoped were long dead by now.

"I like this chick already." Rosita commented causing the others to chuckle and Daryl smiled as Sophia began to curl up in his lap. Her head was resting on his chest as he wrapped his arm around her and smiled proudly down at his daughter.

He was shocked that Sophia had warmed up to him so quickly. Judith was always weary of strangers, but Sophia seemed to like him instantly. He wasn't sure if it was because Y/N had talked to her about him a lot or if it's just because she felt comfortable around him for some reason, either way he wasn't going to complain.

"Do you want to go bed?" He asked quietly, looking down at the little girl curled up on his chest, but she shook her head.

"Don't leave me." Sophia whispered, glancing up at him as he shook his head.

"I ain't leavin' ya, sweetheart. Not ever." He replied, kissing the top of her head before he stood up from the couch, Sophia still in his arms. "M'gonna head to bed, is it alright if we take the spare room?" He asked, looking over at Michonne.

He used to share a house with Rick, Michonne and Carl before the Saviours bombed the place. Now there were new buildings and he hadn't really stayed here long enough to get himself an actual house yet, so he's just been crash in Michonne's spare room.

"Of course, there spare blankets in the cupboard if you need them." She replied and Daryl nodded before saying goodnight to the others as he walked up the stairs towards the spare room.

"Are you going to sleep here with me?" Sophia asked as he gently laid her down on the bed, her blue eyes barely able to stay open as she stared up at him and he smiled.

"Only if ya want me to." He replied, not wanting to push any boundaries with her since he only just met her today, but to his surprise she quickly nodded.

The following morning he took Sophia back downstairs where Michonne was cooking breakfast while Judith sat at the table waiting patiently. The second the little girl spotted him and Sophia, she quickly called out to them and Sophia let go of his hand and ran over to Judith as the two of them sat together by the table.

"Good morning." Michonne called, glancing over her shoulder towards Sophia before Daryl walked over to her about to ask if she needed help, but didn't get a chance. "I got this under control, sit down. How's your back?"

"Hurts, how's yours?" He asked, not bothering to lie to her since she had the same injury and knew it hurt too and Michonne chuckled.

"Same. It could have been much worse though, Y/N copped most it for us." Michonne responded and Daryl nodded, remembering back to those days at the quarry and farm.

Y/N was always putting herself in front of other people, taking the fall for them so they didn't have to. He wasn't sure if she just wanted to protect everyone or if she thought she deserved the pain it caused, he hoped it wasn't the latter.

"She always does, the woman would've died for anyone in the group, probably still would." Daryl muttered shaking his head as he thought back to the time she had gotten between Ed and Carol. She copped a bruise along her jaw that lasted for a week. Or the time she took the grenade from Rick back in the CDC, so he didn't risk his life and she ended up hitting her head and getting a concussion when it blew up.

"Are you talking about my mommy?" Sophia asked, joining in on the conversation and Daryl nodded as Michonne began serving up what looked to be scrambled eggs from the chickens Maggie had given the community. "When is she coming back?"

"Is she bringing daddy home?" Judith asked looking over at Michonne who sat down on the seat next to Daryl while the two girls sat opposite them.

"Uncle Rick is your daddy? Does that make us cousins?" Sophia asked, looking at Sophia before glancing over at Daryl and he again nodded, surprised with how smart his daughter was for her age. Michonne seemed to be impressed too as she raised her eyebrow at him, but he just shrugged his shoulders because he sure as hell hasn't be teaching her anything.

Between him and Michonne they managed to keep Sophia and Judith distracted for most the day while they waited for Y/N and Rick to come home. But, as the sun began to get lower in the sky he was starting to get worried and he knew Michonne was too.

He was out showing Sophia the veggie garden when the distant sound of a helicopter began to fill the air and for a split second he had no idea what the noise was since he hadn't seen or heard a helicopter in nearly six years.

Sophia seemed to know what the noise was straight away as she began tugging on his pants leg excitedly. He began leading the little girl out the garden and towards the large clearing section in the community where he told Y/N to land the helicopter.

By the time he reached the clearing, Michonne, Judith, Rosita, Tara, Aaron, Gracie, Eugene, Gabriel and a few others had already gathered there, all staring up the helicopter in the sky as it flew towards the community.

He knew Y/N used to fly helicopters during her time in Afghanistan, but he still couldn't believe his eyes when he spotted her in the piolets seat as she began to lower the chopper down.

Everyone quickly stepped back from the sudden wind the propellers were causing before she parked the helicopter with ease and turned the engine off.

It took a while for the blades to stop spinning, but they finally did and not a second later the back sliding door to the helicopter opened and Rick climbed out.

You took of your seat belt off, giving Rick the all clear to climb out as he opened the back door where everyone was standing.

You climbed out the driver door on the opposite side and walked around the helicopter towards everyone.

You couldn't stop the smile spreading on your face as Rick pulled Michonne and Judith into a tight hug. Both of them were crying as Rick pointed towards her small baby bump in shock and you grinned, leaning back against the side of the chopper not wanting to get in the way.

"Mommy!" Sophia's voice shouted and you looked to your left to find her running through the crowd with her arms up.

Immediately you vent down and lifted her up, resting her against your hip, being mindful of the burns on your back. You glanced over to where she came from to find Daryl standing there as Rick pulled away from his girlfriend and daughter and looked over at Daryl.

"Thought ya were dead, man." Your heard Daryl muttered, his voice thick with emotion before Rick walked the reminding few metres towards him and wrapped Daryl up into a tight hug.

"I nearly was, brother." Rick responded, patting Daryl on the back and you smiled softly at Rick calling him brother before he pulled away and greeted everyone else who had come out to either see Rick or the helicopter.

"That was one way to make an entrance." Daryl commented as he began walking over to you, Sophia still in your arms.

"Thank you for staying and watching her." You said, looking over at Daryl and he nodded, smiling lightly at Sophia before you looked back at Rick and the others, everyone crying and hugging each other.

You were glad Rick had found this community, this new group, everyone seemed to be close to each other, but you just wished Rick didn't lie to you about your old group. He should have told you the truth, instead it got your hopes up and destroyed you all over again.

Once the reunion was over Michonne told every to give Rick some space since he only woke up from a coma yesterday and still needed to take it easy.

You, Daryl and Sophia joined her, Rick and Judith in their house so Rick could take it easy, despite him insisting that he was fine, but Michonne wouldn't have any of it.

After getting Siddiq to check on Rick to take his stitches out and to make sure he was okay, the six of you all ate tea together and ended up sitting around the lounge room.

Sophia and Judith were already fast asleep together on one of the couches while you sat on the single seater, Daryl on the other single couch to your left while Rick and Michonne sat together on the three seater opposite you.

Rick explained everything that happened with the herd and how he blew the bridge of with dynamite -you knew that explosion was dynamite- before he talked about waking up in a hospital with you and how he thought it was all a dream.

He held Michonne's hand the entire time before she explained everything that happened during the past month and how they had been looking for him ever since.

You sat there silently as you listened to them talk, Daryl adding a few things in as they spoke and you smiled as you listened.

"Y/N, you still haven't told me what happened after the farm." Rick suddenly said, looking over at you curiously. "T-Dog said he saw your truck roll by the barn and that was the last anyone saw. We all thought you were dead." Rick explained and you saw Daryl turn towards you out the corner of your eye, wanting to hear everything you had to say and you sighed, well this was going to be a long story.

"Our truck rolled, but Shane and I managed to get out before the walkers got to us and we made a run for it into the woods. By the time we got back to the highway two days had passed and we saw your note." You began to explain before Rick cut you off.

"You got out with Shane? What happened to him?" He asked realising that something must have happened to his best friend since he wasn't with you anymore and you raised your eyebrows at your brother. "Sorry, continue talking, I'll shut up."

"We tried looking for you and then I found out that I was pregnant, thanks Dixon." You added with a hint of a grin as you looked over at Daryl who's cheeks turned pink as you spoke before you looked back down at the ground and continued talking.

"We made camp in an old library and Shane helped me deliver the baby. He helped me a lot, I'd be dead if it wasn't for him, Sophia too. Anyway, we had to leave the library when a herd came and we eventually came across a prison."

"A prison?" Daryl asked in disbelief.

"Yep, we're all thinking of the same prison because I found Merle's old motorcycle and that lime green car Maggie and Glenn were driving at the farm. Then we began following train tracks and signs to a place called Terminus, but came across a sign that had been crossed out and said 'No Sanctuary' and Shane could recognise your messy handwriting anywhere, bro." You explained glancing over at Rick who began laugh, but nod in agreement.

"After that we didn't know where to go, then we came across some assholes on the road." You continued, your tone turning serious as you moved your injured leg slightly into a more comfortable position and tried to figure out how to tell them.

"The men wanted to take us back to their community and make Shane work for them. They threatened Sophia and the leader tried to touch her, but Shane stopped him and he got killed in the process. I killed half of them and took the guys truck and got the hell out of there, but they killed Shane, I'm sorry." You explained, shaking your head at the memory as you forced your tears not to fall at the memory.

They didn't need to hear how the leader bashed Shane's head in with a baseball bat until there was nothing left of it. They didn't need to picture that image in their heads.

"After that, Sophia and I just kept moving, trying to find you guys and two years later we bumped into a man named, Dwight. He somehow knew you and gave me directions to Alexandria and that's when I came across Rick on the riverbank and well, you guys know the rest." You finished, glancing over at Daryl who was staring at you in disbelief.

"You had been looking for us that whole time?" Rick asked in shock and you nodded.

"I wasn't going to give up, no matter how many years had passed. I'm stubborn, you know that." You replied looking over at him with a sad smile.

"Ain't that the truth." Daryl muttered from beside you causing the group to laugh before quickly quietening down not wanting to wake Sophia and Judith.

The four of you continued to talk for a little bit, Michonne telling Rick about what happened with Jocelyn. Although, you had already told him most of it when you bought him back since he asked how the hell you got shot, but he was just relived that you all made it out of there alive.

"Do we still have that horse cart? We can go to Kingdom tomorrow, stay the night there since it's the furthest and then go via Hilltop on the way home." Rick suggested and you all nodded in agreement and began planning the trip to the other communities.

"Guys, can I talk to Rick privately for a second?" You asked once they finished planning as you looked over at Michonne and Daryl who both instantly nodded and picked up Sophia and Judith before disappearing out the room.

You looked back over at Rick who was still sitting on the couch opposite you, but you didn't say anything for a moment as you tried to figure out how to word it.

"Are you okay?" Your brother asked, his voice gentle as he spoke as he stared at you in worry and you sighed.

"No, Rick, I'm not okay. Yesterday I killed six kids, innocent kids. Some where even Sophia and Judith's age-" You began to say before Rick cut you off.

"Jocelyn brainwashed them, you didn't have a choice, Y/N. You did what you had to do-"

"I know, I know. It doesn't make it any easier, but that's not even the reason why I'm not okay. I'm not okay because my brother told me that everyone from the group was okay. You told me that everyone was fine!" You exclaimed, standing up from the couch, despite the pain in your knee as you began to pace the small area.

"Hey, just come sit down-" Rick tried to say.

"Over the past six years, I had learnt to accept that I'd never see anyone from our group again. I accepted that they were all probably dead, but I never stopped looking.... then you said that everyone was fine and that acceptance just went out the window because everyone was alive and I was so happy. But, then I arrive at Alexandria and Daryl tells me about... he tells me about C-Carl... and Lori... he tells me about everyone, but you said they were alive, but they aren't!" You shouted softly, not wanting the others to hear as silent tears fell down your cheeks.

"I'm sorry." Rick whispered shaking his head at himself as he stared at you through his own teary eyes.

"I couldn't tell you... I couldn't put that on you because in that moment I wasn't entirely sure I was going to survive. I didn't want to drop that on you and say that your family is dead and then for me to die straight after. Hell, I wasn't entirely sure that you were even real and I just couldn't tell you, I couldn't..." Rick trailed off unable to finish his sentence as the tears in his eyes began tricking down his face before he stood up and walked over to you, resting his hands on your shoulders.

"I'm sorry." You whispered, dropping your head as Rick pulled you into a tight hug.

"No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have lied to you." He quickly replied, hugging you tightly as he kissed the top of your head.

*One Hour Later*

You were lying in the king sized bed in the spare room. Sophia curled up on your left and Daryl lying to your right as you stared up at the ceiling.

"I killed six kids yesterday. Six innocent kids are dead because of me." You whispered and for a moment you thought maybe Daryl was asleep before he moved slightly and wrapped his arm around your body, pulling you into him as you rested your head on his chest.

"I know, but they ain't innocent. They were gonna kill Sophia 'n the other kids, ya didn't have a choice, I killed one too. Older kid, probably only 16 though." Daryl replied, keeping his voice quiet as he rubbed his thumb in small circles over your shoulder.

"I've killed people before, killed a lot before the world turned to this, it was part of the job. I never really had a problem with it, the people I killed were always bad guys, murderers and rapists, they deserved it. But this... this was different."

"I know what ya mean." Daryl whispered and neither of you said anything for a few minutes as you laid there together, before Daryl spoke up again. "It's nearly been six years, a lot can change in that time, ya sure ya still wanna be with me?"

You had to stop yourself from laughing at Daryl's question because if it wasn't obvious that you didn't want him still then you didn't know how else to prove it.

"I've spent the past six years trying to find you, Dixon. We have a daughter together and I know you didn't plan it, neither of us did, but it happened and I wouldn't change it for the world. Of course I still want to be with you." You responded and Daryl leant forward and placed a gentle kiss to the top of your head causing you to smile softly. You missed this. You missed him and now for the first time in a long time you actually felt at home.

NEXT CHAPTER

A/N- Link in bio for Masterlist. I will reblog with my Daryl Dixon tag list, if you want to be added just comment below.

There’s only 2 more chapters left after this! I can’t believe this fic is nearly over, this fic has been my life for the past few months and I really enjoyed writing it. I hope you guys liked this chapter and the next one will be up sometime on the weekend, so stay tuned.

Anyway, until then stay safe everyone and have a great day xx

#Daryl Dixon #Daryl Dixon x Reader #The Walking Dead #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon imagine #twd #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead imagine #Norman Reedus #Rick Grimes #Shane Walsh

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angstymarshmallow · 4 years

Text

i’ll watch your back, if you watch mine. - tyril x mc

[a little note: hey I wrote a thing! It’s been a long time since I’ve written anything for choices but bolas has really started inspiring me. It’s not much - but I really wanted to write something after chapter four. So bear with me while we travel back in time a little]

[word count: 1321]

The woman rocked and forth, listening to soft creak the Sun Maiden made as she stared numbly across the horizon. She could almost see it, the sun touching the clouds. Her eyes were starting to water from all the strain, but she couldn’t look away. It was going to be daylight soon.

She should have been fast asleep hours ago, but her own worry for Kade kept her awake; kept her too anxious to take a break. Instead, she brushed off the concerns of her comrades and demanded to keep watch. And alone again, she was wrapped in the slightly damp air as the scent of seawater wafted towards her nose. She paused in mid rock, bracing the heels of her feet as she listened to the quiet lull of the ocean lapping gently against the boat.

If only Kade could see it. See the world as she was right now; the way they always talked about when they were kids.

She sighed.

The soft pang came back in her chest – the same feeling that was often accompanied by thinking about him. It’s my fault. It’s all my fault.

If she hadn’t had grand delusions of adventure. If she hadn’t encouraged Kade to help Nia and Vash, maybe he would still be here. Hells, maybe Vash would still be alive. And another day without Kade was another reminder that she was all alone.

You’re not alone. Something inside of her had insisted – but she felt alone right now, peering at the seat; wondering what awaited at the bottom if she had just decided to jump off right there and then.

“You’re not thinking what I think you’re thinking are you?”

She turned towards the voice, unable to mask her surprise at the sight of Tyril shifting uncomfortably on his feet when their eyes connected. Out of anyone, he was the last person she expected to come and find her. “You can’t sleep either?” She asked, avoiding his question with one of her own.

“Hardly.” He gave a derisive snort. “We are about to journey into orc territory, the least anyone should be doing is sleeping.” But his gaze softened considerably as he sidled up beside her – maintaining a friendly amount of distance. “But yes, I couldn’t sleep. There is still a lot to do.”

Ash huffed in agreement, letting out another soft sigh. “It almost doesn’t quite seem so unreal though, being out here – staring at the open sea, at least for me. I’ve never been so far from home before. I almost feel like I can believe it – that this is really happening. We’re going to save the world.”

His eyes, usually cautiously blank had an inkling of a glint to them. “Now you’re starting to sound like Nia.”

She laughed – the sound a little strange to her own ears after having nothing to laugh about for what had started to feel like eons, nearly stranded at sea. “I suppose it goes without saying that she’s starting rub off on me, on all of us. We are after all - spending a lot of time together,” her eyes drifted to him on the last word; together had sounded more like a crack in her voice when she caught him staring.

There was a softness to his voice that hadn’t been there before when he spoke, a gentleness that made her as though she couldn’t look away. “It doesn’t seem quite like the nightmare I thought it would be. Not being alone.” If it had anyone else, it might have been an insult but coming from Tyril – he sounded just as surprise the moment he said it. “I didn’t think it would be, I –” he hesitated a moment, leaning slightly back to scratch the side of his neck. “I’ve been alone for so long, hunting the shadow court alone that I thought I forgot how to do this.”

Ash was suddenly fighting against the urge to prod and tease. It wasn’t often Tyril shared his thoughts – let alone with her. She didn’t want to ruin the moment and her earlier solemnness almost fizzled out in his company. “You know, my brother all the time that it didn’t make sense on doing things alone - because no one’s watching your back, and that’s how the monsters get you.” She paused as Tyril’s eyebrows arched inquisitively. “Well, it made more sense we were kids –”

His lips quirked into the tiniest hint of a smile.

“But now that I know the world is much bigger than me, much bigger than all of us – I believe it all the more than I had when we were young.” Maybe Kade was some sort of fortune-teller in a past life.

“It is good advice,” He agreed. “It sounds likes you miss him.”

“I do,” she murmured sincerely. “Every day. You think it’d get easier, the more time that passes.” Her hands clench into fists, “but it doesn’t.”

“It never does.” Something flickered inside his eyes and died just as quickly. “But for what it’s worth – I imagine he would be proud knowing what you were doing.”

Hells, she hoped so. “I’m going to get him back,” she said fiercely, “he can be proud all he wants when he sees it for himself.” Then she shook her head, “sorry, I’m sure you didn’t come out here to listen to me go on about my brother.”

“I didn’t,” he said dryly, “but I don’t mind listening all the same. You two sound close, and I envy that.”

“You haven’t your family at all since we’ve been out here.”

“I haven’t.” His voice held a bitter note to it as he continued speaking, “what’s there to tell other than being the heir to the House of Starfury?” Before Ash could say interject, he shook his head. “It doesn’t matter,” his eyes held a determined glint in them as he ran his pale fingers through his hair. “All that matters now is stopping the Shadow Court, by whatever means necessary.”

“Whoa, slow down – doom and gloom.” She lightly teased, “must everything always be so serious and so dark? We’re out here – enjoying the open sea.” She bumped his shoulder playfully, noticing the way the corner of his lips quirked considerably.

But Tyril didn’t respond. He merely shifted his gaze elsewhere, finally breaking eye contact between them.

Ash could breathe a little easier knowing his intense stare was back on the ocean and not on her. It was…startling all the same though, realizing the kind of effect he was starting have on her, realizing she actually liked it when he looked at her –

“You’re staring.”

His quiet voice broke the hurried pace of her thoughts and Ash felt a sudden heat in her cheeks as she managed to tear gaze away – a protest already on her lips as she stared back at the empty sea. “No, I’m not. I was staring at the sea, wondering when we’ll see any hope of civilization.” She was always good at changing the conversation, diverting unwanted attention away from herself when she needed to but she had a funny feeling Tyril could see through all of that – if he wanted.

She caught the glimpse of smile from the corner of her eyes. It was fleeting but it had been there all the same.

“I’ll watch your back.”

“Hmm?” Ash turned to him; her tone filled with unanswered questions until he returned her stare. His eyes were introspective but focused, and her throat went dry as he spoke quietly into the crisp air.

“You spoke highly of your brother and I admire that. It would pain him to think you were all alone.” He was close enough for her to hear the uncertainty in his voice, close enough to see the slight flush of colour rising in his cheeks. “I’ll watch your back Ash, if you watch mine.”

#tyril the mage #tyril x mc #blades of light and shadow #bolas fanfiction #playchoices #tyril x ash #tyril x mc fanfiction #Lord of House Starfury #choices stories you play #nia ellarious #Kade #choices #an angstymarshmallow writes #can i even write anymore?#choices fanfiction

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emrysarthurpendragon · 4 years

Text

Whumptober day 3 | Alt: Comfort

Where am I?

What happened to me?

Arthur? Arthur, where are you?

Am I dead? Maybe he killed me before I woke again? For our friendship’s sake?

Merlin’s drifted back into darkness’s arms; he felt safe, for now.

* * *

Arthur had been thinking. A lot. Near the fire, Merlin had been unconscious for the past hours and all the prince could focus on was how Merlin had magic. No. Not had, has. Gaius’s ward was still breathing, and this would not cease anytime soon. Not even with his … lies. Had Merlin been practising when they first met? Probably. This would explain all the weird incidents occurring when they ran after one another and how Arthur made a fool of himself. How powerful was his friend? He made an entire building fell into pieces. He made them transport without even being awake when it happened. That must be something! Even regarding wizards’ standards. Blue eyes fell on Lancelot. The knight had been keeping watch over Merlin since they arrived here. He tended to the serving boy’s wounds and never let them approach with weapons at hand’s reach. They all noticed healed scars on their friend’s body. Scars that faded long ago, but with terrible stories attached to them. He saw Merlin half-naked through the years. At least after they met, and the boy had no choice but change into dry clothing after their usual banters. Those were inflected to his manservant after he first came to the citadel. By whom? Noblemen bother by their strange friendship? Attackers? Whenever they were ambushed? No. Arthur snorted when he remembered Merlin cowering to avoid battle. Or was he? Strange things did happen when bandits or enemies of Camelot attack them. Branches fell with perfect timing on their opponents, saving their lives more than once. Was it Merlin? He needed to know. If not for his sake, for Merlin’s. If he were right, this could be proof enough all sorcerers were not filled by hatred and darkness. Merlin was the opposite. Kind. Good-hearted. Goofy. A weird sense of humour, which often involved making fun of his master. Selfless too. He sacrificed his own well-being for Arthur, working extra hours just so his amour would be clean for the next day, and then stumbling more than ever the next day. Still he saw nothing. There must have been signs. Hints toward Merlin’s secret. With a heavy sigh, Arthur stretched and walked to Lancelot. The man glared at him, gesturing to his sword and the prince left it a few steps behind before sitting next to both his knight and valet.

“How did you find out?” he asked after an uncomfortable silence. If Lancelot knew and said nothing, this must mean something.

“Remember the manticore’s quest? Merlin used magic to save me and kill that beast. I’ve known since then,” Lancelot said, smiling fondly at their sleeping friend. “Then, I started noticing things. Like how he protected us without getting credits for it.”

“And Emrys? He’s related to Merlin?”

“I…” Lancelot hesitated; Arthur knew the truth now. “Yes. Pretty much. That’s why Morgana questioned him. Merlin told me her power showed her future. In it, Emrys killed her during a terrible battle. Since then, she wanted to find out who he is and stop him at all costs.”

“I don’t understand. Percival said I’m supposed to work hand in hand with Emrys. Legend and destiny. If it’s true, where is Emrys now? Why doesn’t he show up and change my mind on magic?” they would not build that future if they were playing hide and seek together.

“That’s the trick. He’s already here. Hidden in plain view and going unnoticed among your people,” chuckled Lancelot, now noticing how close the others were. They started listening and Leon gasped, realisation filling his features.

“Merlin?” he asked in a low voice, his gaze unmoving while said boy breathed in and out. In and out. Unaware of his surroundings.

“What about Merlin?” Arthur asked, still oblivious. He just couldn’t imagine Gaius’s ward as a powerful being. Not even after what they witnessed earlier.

“Yes, Merlin He’s Emrys. He was born to protect you, Arthur. He would die to do so, if it means you stay alive.”

“But it’s stupid! Merlin can hurt himself with a spoon! If he were so powerful, he would be dead because he sneezes too hard and just blew his room up!” OK, kind of rude. Merlin was not so stupid. Or was he? “He can’t keep a secret. I would know. It’s not…”

“Merlin’s more than that. Just … talk with him. Give him a chance,” Lancelot asked.

With the betrayal still burning him third degree, Arthur wanted to say no. The conflict feelings sent him various messages. Forgive or kill. Understanding or hatred. Decide never felt so difficult before. The prince he used to be when they met, his father’s puppet, roared with anger and wanted to deliver Merlin to the flames. His new self, the one with strong feelings for his servant stood proudly, facing whoever may hurt the brunet. He needed to listen. To understand Merlin’s side of the story. So he waited … night turns into daylight. Another afternoon started and night fell again when Merlin awoke. After their talk the previous day, Lancelot had relaxed enough to sleep. Arthur took first watch and noticed Merlin’s eyes fluttering open.

“Rise and shine,” the prince mocked his serving boy’s usual greeting. “How are you feeling? You … you scared us.” You scared me. I thought I’d lost you. Don’t ever do that to me again.

“I … what…” then it hit him. Arthur knew the exact moment Merlin remembered what happened and what he’d done. Merlin went into full panic attack mode and Arthur’s body reacted before he could think. His arms locked around Merlin’s waist and he whispered words he never thought he would say. Especially to a sorcerer.

“Shh … it’s okay, Merlin. You’re fine. You saved us,” he murmured, gently brushing a strand of black hair. Merlin jumped at the touch and Arthur felt a pang of worry. This man could be the death of him. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m still alive…” Merlin whispered, dumbfound. Why had Arthur did not kill him? He had plenty of time if he had been out all that time. Wait. Arthur was hugging him. He watched him with worried eyes and something else … was it … no. Not love. Arthur loves no one more than his own person; a royal prat. “I was supposed to die!” the warlock suddenly gasped, watching around them with fright. Why was he…? He made a choice. He picked his life as a sacrifice to the goddess. He had to give up everything, just so Arthur may have a long and peaceful life, with a queen and lots of kids running in the castle. But here he was, breathing and … his mind free of Morgana’s spell. Free of whatever had bothered him for the last few weeks. Even when he walked and hang himself in an oak tree. Well, mostly. He still heard the voices in his mind, whispering tempting words behind an obsidian wall. They will come back, eventually.

“Merlin. Merlin focus,” ordered Arthur. “Good. Breathe in, breathe out … I know you’re scared. Listen to me. I won’t kill you. I’m hurt. I’m furious even. You lied to me … you kept secrets from me.”

“I’m sorry, I did not…”

“I know. You had to. Merlin I…” Arthur inhaled, unsure. If someone had told him this day would come, he’d laughed at the man face. “I guess I need to thank you … for what you did. You protected me, us, Camelot. You got hurt and never asked for recognition. Instead, I acted like a…”

“A prat?” Merlin joked.

“Yeah. I guess you’re right.”

An angel pass, two, three and an entire van. Arthur knew he just shocked his servant. He never thanked him or anyone outside his knights before. Could one go into shock after such a change in their lives? After all, as a prince, people mostly kissed the floor he walked on and are grateful for his existence. Not the other way … oh … right … his head may pass the doors if he continues. His thought came to a halt when he heard Merlin’s soft voice, while their friends snore loudly around the camp.

“I’m dead. I’m sure of it now…” chuckled the younger man, raising a hand to brush over Arthur’s warm skin. If he hides it well, the once and future king felt a shiver ran down his spine. When he spoke, his voice sounds tight and uncertain. “Why would you? Tell me, Merlin.” The warlock still gently caressed his skin and they both blushed, even if no one noticed.

“Arthur never thanked anyone. Not even in my wild dreams. Ergo, I’m dead and I’m thankful…” under his fingers, Uther’s son froze. What for? “Arthur?”

“Don’t say those words. I’m your king and I ban you from dying. You’re not allowed to leave me. Not ever.”

“You can’t, I died already. I wouldn’t do that if I were still alive…” Merlin mumbled, sitting awkwardly. His hand still stroking his prince cheek. Their eyes met and suddenly, the world around them felt silent. Event the knights stopped their snores. King and vagabonds stared at each other’s for an eternity or mere seconds. Merlin’s inner voice tried to stop him, yelling something about him still alive or whatever … but he did not listen. He knew better. Arthur had to kill him, with the ban of magic still standing. He may regret it later, the morning after … but for now, the warlock stopped fighting his inner demons. He leaned toward his prince, the one who was still holding him against a strong body and their lips met for the first time. A warm feeling grew in them both. Arthur was stunned but deeper the kiss. He had desired that man for a long time now. Not since day one, no. They hated each other’s when they met; the feeling turned into something else. Respect. Love. Care. He wanted Merlin to feel it all and when wet tears fell over Merlin’s cheeks, the prince pulled back and gently chase them his thumbs.

“I need to show you something, Merlin,” Arthur whispered, not letting go of the sorcerer as he gently slapped the back of his head.

“Ouch! It hurts!” protested Merlin, his eyes widening when he realised when he just said … and did. Did he just … had he … no he … oh. Arthur followed his train of thoughts all along and snorted when Merlin yelped, mortified. Trembling fingers before his lips, Merlin shook his head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t … it’s the spell, I guess… I…” Arthur stopped the rambling, forcing his friend to meet his eyes again.

“Don’t apologise. I’m glad you did it … even if you thought this world was an illusion. And I don’t want a world without you. Not now. Not ever. Understood?” with only silence for an answer, the prince continued: “I like you the way you are. Magic or not. Clumsy or not. Brave or coward. It doesn’t matter, OK? By the end of the day, you’re still the same old Merlin. Now that I know the truth, I can help you protect your secret, especially from my father.”

“You… You accept my magic?” Merlin asked, still confused at the mere prospect of being free of any secrets.

“Lancelot talked me out my prejudices.” Arthur admitted. Remembering Lancelot words about how magic was not different from any weapons. Just like a person can either help or kill someone with a sword, the same thing works for magic’s users and as a king, his duty was to bring equal justice in the kingdom. Murder with weapons or magics were both leading to a death sentence. The others shall live free of fear. “Now I see clearly and I promise you this: once I am king, I’ll lift the ban of magic.”

#whumptober2020 #no.3 #comfort #merlinbbc #fic

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stereksecretsanta · 4 years

Text

Merry Christmas, @nerderek!

Happy Holidays! This was a hard one but I think i did alright. I truly hope you are pleased with your gift and that its somewhat what you wanted. I went for cute. I hope it is.

Read on AO3

*****

The lost and found

There he was. Again.

Derek could smell him, sense him among the trees. He grumbled as he rose from the chair on the porch. The woods rustling and the wind howling between the treetops. Never a calm minute and it always, always happened on his fucking watch. Well, except that one time where Isaac had heard the moaning and whimpering instead. Needless to say, he had panicked and rushed into the Woods only to learn it was a common occurrence. So, Derek didn’t rush, he didn’t run. The boy would be there lost as always. Fucking humans. He just hoped he hadn’t sprained anything this time.

As per usual he took his time, a nice stroll letting his nose guide him to the offending smell of slight panic and cinnamon. He sat by a tree this time, his hair sticking up in any directions, a twig caught in the middle of it all.

"You got lost again" Derek started, he put his arms across his chest and tried to look a little bit intimidating.

"Lost is just a matter of perspective. I knew you would find me as usual so was I really lost?" the boy said between teeth clattering and his body shivering. Smart ass.

Derek sighed and let his arms fall down again. "You are still lost, if I leave you here, you will be lost". It was a matter of fact and Derek wanted to drive his point forward, all the way home.

"Always so grumpy, but thank you, I knew I could count on you to find me." the boy smiled, he had said his name the first time but Derek had forgotten because that was the only time he’d been worried out of his mind as the boy had been shivering out of his clothes. On his family territory. He didn’t dare ask for it again, because that would imply that he was interested in knowing more about the boy. He was but he sure as hell didn’t want the boy to know that.

"If you truly knew that you wouldn’t panic" Derek sighed. “And you are.”

"I plead the fifth." The boy smiled tiredly, and Derek sighed. Again.

Then Derek asked what he would probably regret but during these multiple times this boy had been picked up by him an Isaac in these woods he hadn’t asked, and he was curious.

"Why are you even doing this time and time again? Do you like being lost in a forest with demons and ghouls and werewolves?” To drive that one home, he let his eyes shine an unnatural blue. The boy took a small step backwards but otherwise weren’t visibly put off.

"One, its werewolves and pixies, possibly a shapeshifter or two. And secondly, I have my reasons, and it’s a nice bonus to have hot werewolves come pick you up when you fail. But my reason are mine alone". He shrugged as he walked past Derek. Hot werewolves. He shouldn’t be blushing, but he was.

Derek walked after him "Fine, but you do know this is technically private property and that you could just stop coming here and stop getting lost?” he grabbed the boys shoulder just as he were about to walk into a root and possible fall to his death. “And if you keep walking ahead of me, we will both be lost.”

The boy put his hands up in mock surrender but stepped behind Derek instead. "It’s your property but it’s also a preserve which means you have the rights to decide what the ground is used for and you choose to welcome the public. The fact that everyone is scared of werewolves, that’s you by the way, and stays away is inherently its own problem, but it doesn’t mean that when people stay away its because we don’t have access.”

“It’s because they are scared of us. We know. You’re not scared of wolves?” Derek looked at him and felt a deeper interest then earlier and inwardly groaned.

“Why would I be, you are not animals, you can contain yourselves just like me.” Derek stopped moving, that was a very progressive mindset. They had been public for years, but people tended to keep away from areas they knew wolves lived in for fear of getting killed. The boy continued, looking straight into Derek’s eyes. “I have access to a gun and is one hell of a shot but that doesn’t make me a killer. Having the weapon isn’t the problem its how its used. So put those claws away Mr. Sourwolf and lead me home.” He said as he pushed Derek in front of him. What an odd boy. But he did as he were told. He led him to the car, in silence. The boy talked on, mostly about his car, to which they were heading. He never. Shut. Up.

He waved goodbye as the car drove off this time, instead of fleeing as soon as the boy saw his car. Well man, he drove and apparently had a gun. Strange man. Now Derek couldn’t stop thinking about him. Again.

For two weeks all Derek could do was think about the man and the smell of cinnamon. And those moles. He didn’t want to be that sort of man who listened to his wolf all the time, he knew what damage it could do but when his wolf howled for him to grab the boy and kiss him. He had to fight that one. The look he gave Derek in the woods, going from frozen and wide-eyed to determined with that glint in his eye, that stubbornness. He couldn’t stop thinking about it. No matter what.

He had probably touched himself more than natural the last weeks and he still couldn’t get him out of his mind. And he’d tried so hard to remember his name. Miles? Stuart? Steve?

Even Isaac had picked up on something. And Cora. Laura and the others were away at college, Derek worked, and the two runts were still in high school. Isaac a year behind since his transformation and Cora were, as he and Laura used to put it: just tiny.

“What’s up doucheface. You smell awfully hormonal. Second coming of Christ or second cuming of the hour?” Cora laughed as she sniffed the air. He felt his cheeks redden and damn it. Nothing was holy anymore.

“You are disgusting!” Isaac shouted as he spit out his waffle.

Cora laughed “Well, he smells like he’s done nothing but looking at porn for days.”

“Do you need to be so blunt sweetheart?” Talia sighed as she came into the kitchen. “And Isaac honey, don’t spit out your food like that. You are not an animal, use a napkin.”

“Yes Ma’am.” He ducked his head as he picked up a napkin. Isaac had been with them for almost three years but were still a little bit scared of Talia sometimes. This was not really one of them, but he tended to keep on her good side. “Derek, I suppose you met someone new?” she continued, and her smirk looked an awful lot like Cora’s.

“Yeah Der-bear, who you been seeing.” She grinned from behind her waffle. “It’s either his right hand or maybe the left if he’s adventurous.” Cora said and let out a cackle at Isaacs face of disgust.

“I haven’t met anyone!” he grunted.

“Mhmm. And the pope isn’t wearing a funny hat.” Cora continued.

Isaac took a new timid bite of his next waffle. “Not when he sleeps, he doesn’t.” Then he looked like he figured out the mystery to the universe and Derek felt the rug move under his feet. Not literally, but the world shifted as Isaac took another sniff and decided that he knew. “It’s because of that dude getting lost in the woods all the time isn’t it?” When Derek’s cheeks turned a completely different shade pink he turned and walked out to Isaacs chanting of “I can’t believe it, I was right. No way”.

It took another week before Derek had the unfortune to bump into Miles? again. He had stripped out of his jeans and t-shirt, changing into his running shorts before sprinting out into the woods, leaving Cora and Isaac behind to get ready for school. He ran until everything ached. Until he fell into a pile on the moss and leaves.

He laid there for a while, listening to the birds, the trees and whatever else ran through the trees. Then he smelled it. The cinnamon and lightning. Was he around? Derek had never seen him in daylight before.

He rose slowly, still catching his breath, sniffing the air to find the way to the other man. He sat in a clearing, swearing over a piece of paper. A map Derek guessed.

“Getting lost during daytime now too?” he said as the other man jumped straight up with a yelp. “Not enough to get lost during the night no more?” It looked like the man were about to yell at him before he stuttered out something resembling a baby’s gaggle.

“Wuhu.” He looked Derek over from top to toe and his eyes burned like fire on his torso. “Damn. Sorry.”

“No problem, so Miles, what need you help with today? Finding the fountain of youth?”

“Ha. Ha. It’s Stiles actually. Not Miles.”

“What the hell is a Stiles?” Derek found himself asking, a wrinkle on his forehead.

“Me, I’m a Stiles. Or a Mischief. Up to you, big man.” He caught himself. “Uh, like you are big and broody and. Never mind.” He groaned and Derek chuckled.

“Hey sourwolf, you laughed!” He said and slapped him on the arm jokingly. “At me but whatever.”

“Not at you.” Derek said. “Maybe a little.” Stiles laughed at that before he winced as he stood.

“You okay?”

Stiles grunted “So, so. I sat down too long and now both my legs are sleeping.”

“How long have you been out here?”

“Well. You know how you usually come save me at night?”

Derek looked at him with suspicion. “I do. Go on.”

“Well this time it took a little while longer, you came now.” He said looking almost bashful.

“You have been out here all night?!” Derek growled

Stiles laughed a little but nodded. “Sure thing.”

Derek made a decision and said fuck it. Only his mother was home as of now. Before Stiles could move away Derek scooped him up with a yelp as Stiles nearly fell out of his grasp.

“Stop moving, you’re being carried not going swimming. Be still.” He said and Stiles just looked at him unimpressed.

“Is this a bad touch, because I should remind you of my gunshooting-capacity. Oh god I just touched your bare chest.”

“Is this okay?” Derek asked but he knew the answer. He hoped.

Stiles seemed to mull it over, but the glint of mischief never left his eyes. “Sure, thing Hottie McWerewolf. Just keep your hands of the merchandise.”

“The only bad touch here’s been was when you just now squeezed my pec. You are going to turn out to be a handful, aren’t you?”

Stiles just laughed “Me, did I? I think not. I was in distress I am not in control of my actions. It looked like it was a nice squeeze. I was curious.”

Derek shook his head and walked straight past Stiles jeep and kept walking towards the house.

“You always bring home strays?” Stiles asked as they got close to the porch.

Derek huffed out a laugh. “We have a tendency to, yes.” He sat him down on the porch and let Stiles in before him. As he watched stiles gape in awe at the sight of the foyer and the size of the house Derek got a shirt on and grabbed a few blankets from the couch.

“Come on” he said and guided Stiles into the kitchen. “Sit.” Stiles sat down obediently at the table and Derek handed him two blankets. Stiles must be cold.

“Okay so, wanna tell me why I am in your kitchen?” Stiles asked as Derek tried to find a decent pot that wasn’t in the sink to soak. He fond one and let a frying pan fall to its death with a clanging sound. He showed Stiles the pan and smiled.

“Hot cocoa of course.” He said. “Is that okay?” hoped Stiles didn’t feel cornered. What if he just accidentally kidnapped the man. Stiles seemed to have seen his internal battle.

“Man, I love hot chocolate! Of course, it’s fine. First, I get a first-class rescue, then a damsel carry, and lastly a mug of cocoa?” Stiles kept emphasizing everything with his hands. “You can keep me if you want.” He grinned and Derek felt a blush creeping on again. He just grunted and turned around.

“Derek, introduce me to our guest please.” His mother said sweetly from the door.

“Mom, this is the man who has repeatedly gotten lost in the woods. Stiles this is my mother and Alpha, Talia.”

Stiles nodded and bared his throat a little, not enough for a human to notice but enough to calm a wolf who had a stranger in their closest territory. Derek never ceased to be amazed by how much Stiles knew.

“A pleasure Stiles. Tell me. What are you looking for out there? Regardless of what my other children say I find it unlikely that it is because you keep wanting to see my son.”

Stiles snorted. “No, you are correct, although it’s an amazing bonus.” He seemed to catch himself and realize what he said. “Uhm, I mean. I am looking for things that doesn’t like to be found.”

“Pixies?” Talia asked and sat down at the table.

“I...” Stiles hesitated, like if he told them he wouldn’t ever be able to find it. "I need to find the one place in this wood my mom wrote about before she died. She says she left something there. Literally or not I need to go there.” He sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. “But it can’t be found unless you are lost. So, I walk into the woods every now and then, hoping I will get lost enough that I will find it." he said in frustration and Derek knew then.

"You are looking for the nemeton." Derek said.

“Sweetheart, we are not just going to take a stranger to the centre of the paranormal occurrence in this town.” Talia said as if she knew exactly what Derek was thinking.

“The what now?” Stiles said as Derek placed a cup of cocoa in his hands. “It’s that big? I thought it would be something cool, like she found a cool magic pocket or something.

“This is the ‘or something’ part of that sweetheart.” Talia chuckled. “Do you know what she left?”

Stiles shook his head. “No idea. Could even be nothing, I loved treasure hunts as a kid, but I never really cared about the prize.” This would be interesting to follow.

After a little bit of awkward silence and a few cups of hot cocoa Derek saw Stiles eyelids begin to drop. He rose and Stiles looked up and mumbled out a soft “Wuhu.” Derek moved to pick him up and Stiles seemed to wake up a little.

“You need to sleep; you have been out in the woods the entire night.” Derek mumbled as Stiles yelped when Derek picked him up, swaddled in blankets.

“Okay caveman take me to bed!” he laughed then stopped abruptly and stuttered out an apology. Derek’s mother laughed from her study, hopefully far away that Stiles wouldn’t hear.

“That came out wrong, I didn’t like, you are hot and all but I, shit.” Stiles said in about two seconds flat. “Forget I ever said anything.” He groaned and Derek chuckled at that.

“Impossible, you never stop talking.” Derek said. “You see a complete stranger in the woods and when he takes you to your car because you get lost, you tell him the car doesn’t have a working lock on the doors or that it runs on duct tape. I could have used that to murder you or something. Isaac came back terrified you would someday die in these woods.”

“First, those were a lot of words, how are your throat. And second, I like to trust people, it also takes away the challenge from the murderers. Or something. I’m tired.”

Derek stopped outside his door. He didn’t know why he hadn’t moved to the spare bedroom, but he had been driven on autopilot by his wolf. And his wolf wanted this boy’s scent on his sheets. “Would you be uncomfortable in someone else’s bed?”

Stiles looked at the door. “Well, this is the start of a very sexy porno I once saw. So, I guess no? Just I want to actually sleep and keep my clothes on. I may also need to call my dad.” Stiles rambled. “Scratch that, I don’t want those two words in the same sentence. Dad and porno that is. Oh god damn I’m gonna shut up now, text my father and then sleep.”

Derek laughed again and it felt liberating. He could hear his mother chuckle warmly at the exchange. “I’m gonna let you do whatever.” He said and Stiles snorted.

“Yeah. I bet you would.” Derek didn’t want to dwell on that for too long, because he was absolutely certain that he would. He didn’t know why but if Stiles said jump, he would ask how high. He would go and dig him out of the forest every night if he had too. His wolf preened at the thought, but he just dumped Stiles on the bed. The man yelped as he hit the mattress but then dragged the pillows closer and started snoring in almost under a minute.

“Mom, I want to take him to the nemeton.” Derek said as he entered his mother study, leaving Stiles behind on his bed. Derek’s bed.

She looked at him and smiled. “Of course, you do. I’m not sure I entirely like it. The boy smells of magic but I trust your instincts love. He seems like a bright young man. He is staying for dinner I presume?”

“Thank you. I don’t know if he will stay for dinner.”

“Of course, he will, you are pulled together either way. I don’t believe he will be leaving us alone once you have showed him the way to the nemeton.” She said as it was a matter of fact.

Derek gaped at his mother. “Oh.” OH. Oh, no. He wasn’t sure he was ready to unpack the whole magic attraction and magic pull just yet but now it had manifested in his mind and his mother saw his panic.

“It’s not the end of the world Derek, there is a stronger attraction, not a coerced bond. Either you will be together for a while, you may have an amazing friendship, or it just won’t be anything. Like real life. It’s just a better match for whatever relationship it may be, a stronger connection. Its not written in stone. Stop panicking and trust whatever ancient magic created this phenomenon.” She said and squeezed his hand.

“But this soon?!” Derek hissed “He doesn’t even know me, I could still be a murderer, so could he to be honest!” Talia laughed.

“I doubt he is a vicious murderer considering how clumsy the boy is. You have felt attraction before I imagine, its no difference, just a stronger pull. Treat it like any other meeting of minds. Respect and consent Derek.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He said as she shooed him out the door. “Wait, what do you mean he smells like magic?”

Stiles woke as the door opened. His mind muddled with sleep and his body heavy and wrapped in blankets and covers. He was not moving. No sire. “No. Go away. I’m comfortable.”

Stiles herd a humming, peaked out from the covers and saw Derek and saw his lips curving into a tiny smile. “Don’t want to go find the mystery of the nemeton?”

Stiles shot up out of bed. He kind of thought he were still dreaming. Why would Derek be in his room. But he was the one in Derek’s room and he had slept in the woods tonight because he went looking for what apparently were called the nemeton. All he had ever known about it was the fact that his mother wrote. Namely that if he wanted to find the last thing, she’d be able to give him he would have to get lost. It wasn’t possible to find on a map, constantly moving. But he knew it would be in the woods. She told him as much in the letter.

They walked around in what Stiles thought of as circles before Derek just stopped by a cut down tree. When Stiles just looked lost Derek pointed at it.

“A tree trunk. Nothing more?”

“Well sure, but this tree trunk is the beacon of magic around here. The world today is built on leylines, natural lines of magic surge flowing through the earth. The nemeton is right on top of a crossroads of sorts. It gets its magic from two laylines crossing. It makes this city great for us wolves for example. Everything touched by magic feels at home here, its more natural and more in tune with nature.” Derek explained as he touched the treetrunk. “It’s a fixed spot, it isn’t actually moving but its also a source of unimaginable power for the wrong people, so it protects itself. If you go looking for it without stating intent it won’t show, it will stay hidden.”

“So why couldn’t I find it?” Stiles were frustrated but happy and it was hard to get a hold on what he thought and how he felt.

“You never stated your intent I guess, or it needed us to trust your intentions first. You also didn’t know what you were looking for. But it shouldn’t be easy to find. Most people say its only found when you stop looking for it while some say, like your mother, that you won’t find it if you know where you are. Both are technically true. It will only reveal itself for those deserving and those it trusts with its location. Hales have lived on these lands for hundreds of years. We go look for it as children and some find it sooner, and other later. First when it knows who’s on the lands it connects to us and lets us help protect it. Shows us where it is. It’s like it knows if we are to ever abuse that trust. My great grandfather never found it. The nemeton somehow knew he’d someday betray the trust in knowing its location, so it never revealed it.”

Stiles thought this over, what did that mean. He’d been careful, he never wanted harm, he just wanted to find what his mother sent him out to find. “You think I wouldn’t have found it, that it didn’t trust me?”

Derek shook his head. “I think that if you had known what you were looking for it would sense you and decide. But you didn’t know, how would it know you even looked? That it should reveal itself to you?”

Stiles shrugged. “Magic?”

“Fair point. I don’t know.” Derek admitted as he mulled it all over. “But I got to take you here, it trusts me.”

Stiles started pacing around the tree. “How does it know I won’t use it or shout its location from a rooftop.”

“Because, Stiles. You. Are lost.” Derek grinned and Stiles burst out laughing.

They sat by the tree for a while, Stiles deep in thought.

“I think she knew. Like this tree trunk just knows. It knows without seeing, without asking. I think it was somehow this way it was supposed to go, that it was you she meant. Like not specifically you. But I don’t think she were specific. I think she knew I’d find you here. She always seemed to know that sort of things. Like she saw things without being there. The woman could be putting me to bed and yell from my room for my father to put down the donut in the kitchen. And she was always right. She just knew.” He paused as if he mulled it all over. “I think I did too if I’m honest.”

Derek hummed in response. “I think there is something about that, not about me, but the nemeton. I think she wanted it to embrace you, not for you to stumble upon it and maybe miss it.” Derek said but Stiles were in a mode now, no amount of agreeing or disagreeing would stop his rant.

“She said I’d find something here, something that would remind me of her. That I would find her here. Her magic.” Stiles touched the tree now and as if jolted by a static shock he quickly removed his hand. “There is so much care here and I miss her everyday but, in these woods, I found her. Every time I came here, I was with her. Maybe that is all she ever meant even if I think there is more to it. I do think she knew, like your tree, that there was something more here for me. She just needed me to get here.” He kept touching the tree carefully, and every time Derek could see the faint electricity between the nemeton and Stiles.

“But I can have both right? I can have her, I can understand what made her so amazing, her connection to this tree. But I can get this, too right?” Stiles said and pointed to Derek and then to himself. “The care your family has shown. Someone who repeatedly finds me when I’m lost?” Stiles looked at Derek and continued: “Who I trust with my location?”

“Like the nemeton.” Derek said low. “Do you think she knew you’d meet us when she sent you to find the source of her magic?”

“Of course, she did. I’m certain. She always told me I’d find a man with big family and a heart of gold. She knew.”

“There is a possibility Stiles. I have never been so instantly drawn to someone, so pulled in and interested. I think you are my mate.” It felt weird on his tongue, like a coercion of sorts, but it also felt right, like he knew, like his wolf knew, that Derek would never use it as a weapon. That it was nothing more than a deep attraction, a sort of glimpse of a loving future.

“I know” Stiles said and smiled, Derek never asked how. But that spark between the nemeton and Stiles did something and it was almost like Stiles could take one step out in the woods and get to the nemeton, like all laws of physics never applied to him when he sought out the tree. Wherever he stepped the tree would appear and whenever Stiles needed an answer, he’d get it. As well as that creepy know it all look, he had sometimes. Like when Derek tried to sneak an extra donut from the box. In some way, even though Derek had ever met Claudia, he just knew that Stiles mother had led him directly to the source of her powers, directly to exactly what she promised. She left him her gifts. And Derek were terrified of them.

The nemeton started to bloom again a few years after, a tiny sprout on the surface of the cut down tree. And Stiles kept coming around, no longer getting lost. But Derek were there, to find him if he ever did.

Always.

#nerderek #stereksanta19 #*fics19 #*gifts19

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