#and i get part of it is shortcuts need to be made in favour of fitting things into the time given | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bitchiha · 4 years

Text

To Eternal Bliss, I’m so Glad to Know (ModernAU!Hidan x Reader)

The Rats 1k event prompt: Street racer x Hidan

A/N: hey.. aha.. how y'all doing.. hum so i haven't been doing great, I think that is evident through my inactivity on this blog, but that being said i am in a bit of a better place now. i finally have some time to myself and i intend to put that towards my 900 follower event. Enjoy this wonderful piece of modern racer Hidan that strayed into crazy murder himbo I love car man Hidan.

Title inspired by: this song.

MAJOR TWs: smut, harassment (brief, undescriptive), uhm murter, reckless driving, lots of mentions of and contemplations of death. You are a literal accomplice to murter. Reader is confused. But.. It’s not supposed to be gory and dark, I kinda wanted it to just be stupid and reflect a himbo hidan as much as I could. Last like 6 paragraphs aren’t edited.

You shouldn’t be in a criminals car, much less in the middle of a police chase and much much less be falling in love with him.

His silver hair flashes wildly in the occasional flicker of red and blue lights, teeth bared; he was making that face again. That one he had when he first met you, lips curled and canines showing. It looked like he was in pain. It was just because he was actually trying to use his brain, you think. He grips the wheel tightly, the whites of his pale knuckles glowing as he swerves onto one of the busiest city streets you know.

Barely avoiding a collision with a distinct yellow blur you could barely classify as a taxi, he continued to speed through the lanes, horns blaring and merging into the sound of the wailing sirens quickly approaching. Another sharp turn onto a slightly less busy road had your body slamming against the console, leaning close to Hidan. Your eyes stray from the window and onto his face, unable to hear what he is saying, you make out the movement of his lips:

shit,shit,shiiit

The tires screeched as he fumbled around with the controls, sending the car into a full 180 and narrowly avoiding a police car sacrificing its auto body in favour of capturing Jashin. That was real close call, just scratching the side of the passenger door, but you wouldn't know; you were still watching your boyfriends features as he speeds off down another dirty alley.

You were pretty sure that one day you were going to die trapped in Hidans little metal box.. A distant part of you wanted to throw up when you realized you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Sure, he was obnoxiously annoying in the most serious of times and incredibly oblivious when you desperately needed him to get a clue. I mean fuck, it felt like despite his adolescent years of elementary and secondary school (which you’re not even sure he attended) his brain only had the capacity to process two things. The first being lewd shit and the second would be the gas pedal... and maybe half a braincell was in there thinking of you, but probably only of you in your panties or something really shallow like that.

You really shouldn’t love him.

Barrelling down the alley he randomly slammed the breaks down, the lack of warning sending you flying forward. Bracing yourself to be slammed into the front of car, but just when you thought you were going to break your nose Hidan reversed, sending your body backwards instead. You yelped and he sent you a stupid little apologetic curl of his lip before twisting his body, hand coming to your chair for support as he sped the car backwards through the trash littered street. You didn't understand why he suddenly changed his mind about the direction until a few seconds later when a black and white cop car swerved down the alley in the direction you were back pedalling from. Hidan must have known they were going to try and cut his route off.

At the sight of the police vehicle your boyfriend impulsively slammed the breaks, rolling his window down and leaning his head out of it, “Ha, you stupid fucks think you could catch Jashin with some lame shit like that? I could smell that from a mile away!” From your boyfriends childish tone you predicted he was going to blow a raspberry, but the sound of speeding tires approaching quickly stopped him. Sirens blaring, the police car sped its way forward.

“Oh fuck.” Hidan sped Jashin backwards again.

You remembered the first time you met Jashin.

It was late that night, you were making your long trek home after a disastrous closing shift. You were tired. So fucking tired. You never would have taken that shortcut if you weren’t truly physically drained. As you made your way briskly through that musky trash infested canal, you were stopped by a man who smelled just as intensely as the alley itself. It was so much so that you had thought that perhaps it was the mans smell that was so potent and not the space itself.

Defining what the source of that smell was wasn’t important though, not when he was coming straight at you with barred, yellow teeth. You didn't know what to do and to be fair, what the fuck were you supposed to do? He was yelling something, you couldn't hear it over the thrashing of your erratic heartbeat. Were you going to die? You were so fucking tired.

Maybe you should run.

You didn’t though. Didn’t have the energy. So you let the man come face to face with your figure, grabbing at the lapels of your coat and screaming. His breath was unbearable and you thought you were going to pass away just from the smell as opposed to actually being murdered. Although you suppose this could probably qualify for a murder, his breath was most definitely a weapon. But despite his shouts being directly at you, his humid breath spraying across your face as his chest constantly heaved, you couldn't understand what he was saying.

“Jashin! Jashin is coming!”

What the fuck was Jashin? Could you still not hear him? He was probably sick. You were tired. So you continued to let him shake your form. Was he going to kill you or just ask for some money?

Thats when a beast of sleek red metal swerved down the alley, trampling over peeled open garbage bags and beer bottles, approaching you with each sound of a crinkled can. It was gunning straight towards the man who was backing you up against the wall, he was frothing and screaming at the sight and the next moment the hood of the car slammed into his form. Despite your close proximity to the man, you were left barely unscathed and a little bit disappointed.

The scene laid frozen for a good thirty seconds: the man unconscious on the floor, your unsteady breathing and the window of the car rolling down. It inched back to reveal a man about your age - which made him just barely a man - with silver slicked back hair, barred teeth and knitted eyebrows.

“Shit.”

You just stared at him, backpack beginning to slide down your shoulders. He stared back at you, waiting to see what your next move was going to be. You didn’t have one.

“...If it makes you feel any better, douchebag deserved it.” The man said a few minutes later, he clearly wasn't expecting the crumpled body on the floor to have tried to seek out help, let alone from a cute girl. He smoothed his hair back.

His crappy attempt to seduce you didn't work and nor did his equally crap words of consolation, you were tired. This whole situation was even more tiring. You just wanted to sleep.

“I won't tell anyone, if you just drive me home.”

He clearly wasn't expecting that, you could tell that from the pained look intensifying on his face and his little choked gasp. A few moments later it released like an elastic band snapping and his features set into a smug smirk. A cute girl who wasn’t gonna snitch on him?

“You’re not going to question the fact that I just hit someone with my car? Is it cause I'm so fucking sex-”

You weren’t listening, walking over the heap of a body and around the car into the passenger seat. The contrasting smell of vanilla and cigarettes clouded your senses as you clicked your seatbelt into place - noticing his lack of one in the process.

You hated that your face was burning up as you spoke. “I live a few blocks away.”

For a while you were sure that this was the first girl Hidan had ever had in his car. It was obvious that he was freaking out, maybe if he didn’t hit people in alleyways and then blamed your silence on the fact that he was so fucking sexy, then maybe he would be able to talk to more.

He tried to blab to you the whole way to your apartment accidentally making wrong turns to try and extend the length of your stay. He told you about that man in the alley, said something about how he totally fucked him over in some black market shit for auto parts. Said his enemy, - he stressed this word very intensely - Shikamaru probably put him up to it. Nobody messes with Jashin goddamit, I fucking hate that guy. It was a shit justification for murder no doubt, there is never a good reason to hit someone with a car, but you supposed your indifference wasn't any better.

You stole a couple glances at him every now and then, when his eyes took a break from darting back and fourth between your thighs, your face and the road. He had a sharp jaw, pretty cheekbones, gelled back hair with small strands escaping every so often - causing him to brush them back when too many tickled his forehead - his lashes were long and his eyes so pretty so in the dim light of the empty city streets. His teeth were straight and sharp canines peeked out whenever he sent you a suggestive smirk.

You also spent an unbelievably long time watching his fingers maneuver the steering wheel, the way his hands flexed with a certain turn. The veins of his forearms travelling underneath his leather jacket pushed up at the elbows, his jeans were all worn out and faded and his shoes looked like they were about to fall apart, it was a big difference in comparison to the well kept state of his handsome car.

When he finally made it to your complex after running out of roads to take wrong turns down, he looked at you like a lost puppy, rolling the passenger window down to call out to you as you opened the lobby doors. “So I’ll meet you out here tomorrow then? Say, around 9?”

You turned to look at him confusedly, inquiring as to why he would be picking you up when you made no reservations to see him again, why would you want to see your accomplice in a murder ever again? But he was already speeding off before you got the chance.

At least you could finally go to sleep.

The next day he was outside your apartment fifteen past nine, blaring his horn as he maneuvered his upper body to hover out the window of his lovely Jashin. You were nestled on your couch, staring at the blue light of the TV screen in your dark apartment desperately trying to avoid the textbook glowering at you from the coffee table.

‘Cute kitten saved from tree’ was sprawled across the bottom of your television in bold letters as a perky blonde read off the little cue cards in her hand. You’d been watching the news all day, waiting for the red breaking news! To slice across the screen and read out the description of a crippled homeless gambler found dead in an alley, but it never came.

It mad you feel a little angry when you realized his death wasn’t going to be announced and you knew there was no way it hadn’t been discovered yet. Then you sat startled at the realization that you didn’t feel anything towards what happened. That the anger you felt in wanting it to be so desperately displayed on the news was because you hoped you would feel something then.

The sound of Hidans car horn threw you out of your thoughts as you jumped like a frightened cat to the window. Peeling back the curtain you were surprised to see that blood stained blotch on the road with a lavender haired boy peeking out, baring his teeth.

You contemplated staying inside, he didn’t know your apartment number, but you knew that he definitely wouldn’t stop blaring the horn if you didn’t. His hand was undeniably laying flat against the centre of he wheel as he continued to sound out, you heard someone yell for him to fucking shut up. Hidan continued as if he didn’t hear. It kind of flattered you.

You wanted to vomit.

You took the stairs.

It was the beginning of winter when you finally let Hidan fuck you. You were in some parking lot lined with pitch black shops on a Sunday night. Everyone closed early going home to their families, except the two of you of course.

It was odd being with him for this long. One outing turned into another and then another, before you knew it he was picking you up every night at nine -sometimes fifteen minutes passed,- blaring his horn excitedly as he peeked out his car.

He told you it was the perfect place to do donuts, didn’t you want to do donuts? You did. It was the beginning of winter. It was icy. His idea was incredibly fucking stupid. But you agreed because maybe you’d skid on the ice and smash into a store, get crushed by the crumbling debris..

There was little snowflakes hitting the windows of Jashin as you two sat parked in the middle of the deserted lot.

“You ready? Oh you’re gonna love this, babe.”

He grinned as your face heated up at the name, you always got all flustered whenever he said anything like that. It made him feel giddy. His long fingers start Jashin up, moving to clutch the wheel as the car thrums to life.

When he makes the first swerve with his car, he turns his head to watch your body all stiff and frightened. It was funny. He laughed as your face twisted into an even more flustered one - if that was possible. God, you were always such a hard ass at the beginning of the night, but when he dropped you off outside your apartment early into the morning he always made sure to leave you with a little smile on your face. Even now, this early into the night he could see the beginnings of one.

He twisted the wheel again and your body flew to the left, smooshing into the console and the surprised laugh that left your mouth had his guts twisting. He wanted to hear it again. Your walls always fell when he did stupid shit like this. You were kinda fucked up now that he thought about it. Always getting all giggly when you should probably be screaming at him to be more careful for fucks sake! But you never did and he loved that about you. Just as fucked as he was.

“Hey babe, babe! This one’ll be good. Watch, watch.” He gripped the wheel again and grinded his sneaker into the gas, the first skid across asphalt was intentional, but when he tried to regain the reigns of his dark red beast it began to thrash out of his control.

Goddamn ice patch.

The car twisted, screeched and burned into the pavement for a good twenty seconds and when he was sure you should be screaming because I mean come on, that was fucking scary, he heard silence.

As the car came to a complete stop and your body was once again flung against the console, he turned to you. He thinks he was gonna ask if you were okay but he couldn’t remember because the next moment you were grabbing tufts of his gelled hair and sucking his face off.

He loved every second of it. The amount of times he’d tried to get his dick wet with you before was astronomical, but you’d always tell him no and he would pout like a dog. But hey, now you’re shoving your tongue down his throat like a dog so he settled on the idea that good things do come to people who wait.

The reason you decided to do it then was blurry. One moment his car was skidding around the parking lot and you were laughing and thinking of the chance of death and the next second it spat onto your tongue and you realized you didn’t want it anymore.

Like that first time you slid into his car, as you kissed him now you tasted contrasting flavours. Mint and cigarettes. For a moment you thought you were going to pull away, but you felt the sudden need to drink all of it. To somehow understand why you felt like you were burning from the inside.

It was his fault really. Hidan made you feel less tired, if that was a good way to put it. You started looking forward to things after you two met and eventually you actually started to feel a bit more deeply for poor crumpled man in the alley. It felt as if you’re body was being thawed out by this silver haired idiot who was groping for the clasp of your bra underneath your shirt.

So you climbed over the console, fumbling with the side of his chair to pull his seat back as you began to strip off your top in haste. You unbuttoned his jeans and slid down to the space between his leg, choking and drooling all over his cock because when you did you felt all these funny emotions bubbling in your body, you felt alive.

He was a loud mouth when you had his dick down your throat, groaning and saying the dumbest, lewdest shit his sex wired brain could think of. You know how many times he’s thought of this? You feel so good, you feel so good. God this is so good, Jashin probably loves it too... We should fuck on the hood of the car next. Long slender fingers guided your head up and down him as he began to twitch thrust his hips upwards, finally spill into your mouth. Douchebag didn’t let your head go and you felt some of his juices dribble down your tongue.

“Swallow it, swallow it while my dicks still in your mouth... Atta girl, you’re so good. So greedy..”

And you swallowed it all, he hoisted you back onto his lap and pushed your skirt up. He was whispering all this perverted stuff in your ear and your mouth fell open against his neck. Words making you flush fiercely and slowly grind your hips against him. You stopped him when he was beginning to shove your panties down your thighs, though.

For the first time you felt small in comparison to him as you met his eyes. He stopped his movement seeming like he was going to say something too, but you cut him off.

“- Hidan... I’ve never done it before.”

He stares at you all wide eyed before laughing and for a second and you think about getting out of his car and walking home because that’s such a douchebag thing to do, but then he surprises you.

“Me too, I was just about to say.. but I mean it can’t be hard right? Well, I am hard,” he laughed and you found yourself huffing a small giggle at his stupid joke, good mood returning as he continued, “I was just gonna go with what I seen in hentais.” That explained his dirty talk.

It was pretty good for your first time though. Ideally not the best place to have sex, you kept hitting your head and he couldn’t quite get his hips thrusting at a good pace with the confined space, but you didn’t care. You didn’t care because it was Hidan and you think you just might be in love with him.

That’s why you don’t say anything when a few weeks later you see “Shikamaru Nara, infamous street racer found dead in a back alley crash.” flashing across your tv screen.

You don’t comment, just give a little understanding hum when Hidan calls you and tells you he can’t pick you up tonight babe, or for a few nights, Jashin needs some repairs..

It’s why now, as he speeds through the streets recklessly with your bags in the trunk and the sound of sirens ringing in your ears that you feel tears prick your eyes. You wish you could have told him to be more careful, that he shouldn’t have done what he did without planning it. Something, anything.. it’s too late now. But he’s not to blame.

You think it’s your fault, really.

#naruto headcanons #naruto imagines #naruto x reader #hidan x reader #hidan #the rats 900 celebration

124 notes · View notes

mismaeve · 3 years

Text

♕ Burning Lights ♕

Chapter 8 of the Burning Lights series Pairing: Katherine Pierce x Elijah Mikaelson Warnings: None POV: Katherine _________________________________________________

Katherine opened the door to their suit, her eyes instantly noticing a man’s frame near the window. She couldn’t tell straight away seeing how the room was dark but she assumed it was Elijah.

ㅤ “You’re back,” she heard his voice, it was soft, but it also seemed somewhat tired. “Did you think I was going to bail?” she asked him, deciding to tease him a little. She tossed her purse onto the couch before taking off her jacket. From the corner of her eye she saw him move away from the window. “That’s just it, I can never know with you,” he replied somewhat absentmindedly. “I actually pride myself for that,” she chuckled lightly as she reached for the light switch, flicking it on before glancing back to where Elijah was standing, “maybe I like keeping you on your toes,” she shrugged innocently, a playful smirk dancing on her lips. She saw a shadow of a smile briefly touch his features. "Shall we sort out dinner for you?" he asked. "No, I already ate," she answered with her finger pointing towards the door, meaning she had had dinner downstairs at the restaurant. Elijah nodded. Katherine crossed her arms, her eyebrow slightly pointing upwards, something was different. Awkward even..she shook her head slightly as if to shake off the weird vibe currently residing in their suite. "Listen, I have a favour to ask you," she started cautiously, knowing how Elijah might react to her asking him for his blood. "Alright..," he nodded, indicating that she should go on. "I need to try something and I need your blood in order to do it," she told him, watching him, waiting for him to erupt into one of his sermons about how precious being a human was. She saw him open his mouth, so she added quickly, "but before you start with your humanity gospel, it's not what it sounds like," she finished quickly. Elijah raised his eyebrow, "Then what is it?" he asked looking genuinely curious. "I want to-," she stopped wanting to rephrase that, "I need to know if the cure has any side effects that I should know about," she started, "I guess I need to know if vampire blood could heal me if I got hurt," she explained, dropping her gaze to her shoes before meeting his eyes again, "it's important to me that I know," she finished quietly. Elijah watched her for a moment before nodding, "And how do you propose we do that?" he asked matter-of-factly. "Well, it doesn't have to be anything serious, I was thinking I could cut my finger, then have your blood and see if it would heal me," she explained, finding herself a little surprised at his reaction, or lack there of. She had been prepared to have to reason with him, maybe even beg. Yet so far, nothing indicated that she would have to. Elijah looked to be considering this, "Very well, I don't see any harm in learning more about this mysterious cure and it's effects," he agreed, "Would my barber's knife do or shall we see if we can find something else?" he asked her. Katherine nodded, "It should be fine as long as it's sharp," she shrugged.

ㅤ

As Katherine made herself comfortable on the couch, Elijah had disappeared to his room to fetch his razor. He was back almost instantly, tilting the blade slightly examining it's edge before handing it to her. Katherine took the blade, suddenly feeling unsure. She hated not knowing but she wasn't sure if she was prepared for it not to work. She took a settling breath, no, she had to do this. She needed to know. "Nervous?" Elijah asked her, his tone soft and gentle. Katherine nodded, looking at the sharp blade in her hand. "We don't have to do this, you know," he said quietly, to which Katherine shook her head. "I need to know," she said quietly, almost whispering. Before she could change her mind, she quickly pressed the cold blade against her finger. A tiny red dot appeared and began to swell as she drew the blade down her fingertip causing her to wince slightly at the pain. Deeming the cut big enough to see if it would heal, she set the razor on the coffee table. Elijah took that as his cue to provide her with his blood. In an instant he was over by the liquor stand, retrieving a clean glass before biting down into his wrist. Katherine watched as his blood dripped into the glass he was holding underneath his bleeding wrist. She felt herself getting anxious, this was it.

Elijah sat the glass containing his blood on the coffee table before taking a step back. "Whenever you are ready," he whispered. Katherine looked at him and saw that he looked a little nervous himself. She took a deep breath and nodded, her eyes falling to the glass. She took the glass and held it in her hand. Here was the answer to her question, the answer a part of her dreaded. "Bottoms up," she joked meekly before lifting the glass to her lips and throwing it back in one go.

ㅤ

Before she had even managed to swallow it properly, she felt a violent wave shoot through her body. She bent over as she began to cough up the blood she had just ingested. Blood spattered over the coffee table and her lap as she continued to violently cough it up. Elijah was suddenly next to her, his arm around her as he was pulling her hair away from her face. A short moment later, her coughing had stopped. She didn't have to look at her finger to know the cut was still there. She stared blankly, feeling blood dripping off her chin, her heart pounding in her ears. "What happened?" Elijah asked, the concern in his voice evident. His hand was still on her back. "I think I just rejected your blood," she replied quietly not wanting to look at him just yet. This was it, this was the answer to her question. There will be no shortcuts, no cheating. She was going to have to heal the regular way. Katherine sighed quietly, still not daring to look at Elijah. Odds were if vampire blood couldn't heal her, it wouldn't turn her either. "That settles it then," she finally spoke up, turning her head to glance at Elijah who was still sitting next to her. She tried to sound casual, as if this wasn't an epic disappointment to her. Elijah was watching her, his face not giving away any thoughts he might have on this matter. He dropped his hand from her back as he got up and made his way over to where his suit jacket was, retrieving a handkerchief from it's pocket. He stopped in front of her, handing her his handkerchief. Katherine glanced up at him and nodded, taking the handkerchief from his hand before wiping her mouth with it.

ㅤ

"I imagine you were expecting different results, no?" he asked her quietly as he took his seat next to her. "Doesn't matter now," Katherine shrugged, wanting to contain her disappointment. "I believe this means you can never be turned back either," he mused quietly. "Nope," Katherine replied, popping the p. "I can only assume the disappointment you must be feeling," he said quietly, glancing over at her. Katherine cocked up her eyebrow. Heaven help him if he decided to start another human appreciation rant, she might just actually try and kill him. But he remained silent, his eyes watching her in silence. "I wanted this to work," she said after a while, dropping her gaze to her hands, "at least I would have had some insurance, you know?" she shrugged. "That's understandable," he said quietly. Katherine looked up at him, trying to understand why she wasn't hearing another one of his sermons. In stead, he seemed almost sympathetic. "What? No lecture this time?" she asked with a raised eyebrow and a sly smile. "It's not my place," he said before averting his eyes, "it's not my right to tell you how to feel," Elijah said quietly. "That didn't stop you before," Katherine pointed out matter of factly. "It's why I've come to realise that I owe you an apology," he said before his eyes found hers again, "I had no right to push you the way I had, I had no right to force you to see things the way I did," he let out a somber sigh. "I'm ashamed of what I did," he whispered before dropping his gaze yet again. Katherine was watching him, not quite believing what she was hearing. She had a feeling it wasn't easy for him, to admit he was wrong. "I won't lie, you were acting like a royal douchebag," she stated before getting up to go make herself a drink. "Yes, you've stated so before, using some rather," he paused, looking up, "colourful language," he breathed out. "If the shoe fits...," Katherine shrugged as she poured two drinks. "Can you forgive me?" he asked quietly, his eyes locking with hers once again. Katherine stood where she was, watching him intently. There was no point in lying, she knew how difficult this was for him. But not as difficult as it had been for her, to struggle as she did, only to have Elijah do the complete opposite of helping her, or even reassuring her. "I don't know," she said after a while.

_________________________________________________

#kalijah #kalijah au #kalijah fanfiction #kalijah fic #katherine x elijah #elijah x katherine #tvd imagine #the vampire diaries #katherine pierce #elijah mikaelson #katerina petrova

23 notes · View notes

undertaker1827 · 4 years

Note

Hi, I really like your masterlist. If it's okay could you please write 14 for our demon trash can? (I swear I still love Sebastian). Thank you very much 🙏❤

Of course!! And thank you! Prompt in bold

This isn’t really fluff until the end I’m sorry

Masterlist

❗️Warnings; violence (canon-typical) ❗️

“Why are you trembling?”

You swallowed hard, mouth parched and throat scratchy. You tried hopelessly to even out your breathing, to make it seem like you were confident. Like you knew what you were doing. You thought you had, to begin with.

It was a game. Just a game - a harmless bit of curiosity you couldn’t quench. Sebastian had a habit of disappearing sometimes, when you were supposed to have a nice evening together. You were well aware of his master and how insufferable he was when it came to Sebastian obeying his orders, but you could never understand why the lord would suddenly summon his butler ‘as a matter of urgency’ so often in the middle of the night. You had decided there was more to it than stoking the fires or replenishing candles; after all, there were other servants in the manor who could those tasks. Sebastian, brilliant as he was, had to be needed for more than just the menial tasks. It had to be something important.

This particular evening, when you had just been talking quietly and enjoying each others’ company, an owl had arrived at your open window, a message tied to its leg. This appeared to be Phantomhive’s preferred way of getting Sebastian’s attention and no sooner had the butler read the letter than he was gone, black clothes and hair blending in perfectly to the moonless night. He had given his customary farewell - a gentle apology, a kiss to the cheek - then departed at once for the manor. This time though, you had decided to follow.

You knew from experience how good he was at sensing others around him, so you took every possible precaution in getting to the manor. By the time you got outside, Sebastian was, miraculously, well and truly gone - you hadn’t even considered how he had managed it so quickly, with no horse or a carriage and certainly no train. Ultimately though, it worked in your favour, as you arrived at the Phantomhive estate undetected. You wished now that you had been seen. You watched as Sebastian and the other servants arrived at the door, the lord arriving soon after and entering a carriage which the butler was to drive. You deduced from the direction in which they drove that they were heading back into central London, so once again left before anyone noticed your presence, taking various shortcuts until, by chance, you stumbled across the abandoned carriage the duo had been in moments before. From then on, you just guessed your way to their location, once again remaining unseen, by what could only be described as dumb luck.

You had gone in the first place wondering what on Earth the lord could want Sebastian for in the middle of the night, just to satisfy your curiosity. Never in your wildest dreams could you imagine this. When you finally caught up to them, it was in an alleyway. Two men faced the butler and the earl, and Phantomhive had a loaded gun pointed straight at them. Evidently, neither noticed a third man to the side of the earl, a knife brandished and ready to attack him, when from nowhere appeared Sebastian. He had moved far too quickly for anything human and in seconds had lifted the man from his feet by the mere collar of his shirt, the knife blade snapped cleanly from the hilt and both discarded on the ground by Sebastian’s polished loafers. Your eyes widened as the first two charged the boy, whose gaze had flickered for a moment behind him, but again, the butler was there.

A swiftly delivered kick to each had them both thrown against the opposite wall, unconscious bodies crumpling to the cobblestone. The third man was now on his knees, begging for mercy, for his life, the terror of thousands rooted deep in his words.

“Sebastian.”

The man’s plea cut off suddenly.

Sebastian turned to look at the earl, and in the dull shine of a street lamp, his eyes glowed crimson.

“My lord.”

You fled in terror when those eyes turned to you.

“Why are you trembling?” You took two steps back for every one Sebastian took forward, quickly running out of room in your small apartment. The butler’s hands landed either side of your head on the wall you had backed into, though his face displayed a polite, of not utterly false smile. “How much did you see, exactly?” He asked calmly, as if you were discussing the evening’s tea options. “Everything, I assume?” You could barely force yourself to nod. “I see,” he murmured softly, amber eyes bearing the merest hint of the blood red you had seen before. Fear made you launch into feverish apologies as you pressed yourself further against the wall, trying desperately to put distance between you. You yelped in spite of yourself as his arms encircled you, only to hold you close to his chest as he rested his chin on your head. Your heart was pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it and your breaths were so short that you were barely taking in oxygen.

“I’m a demon, if you were wondering,” he stated, tightening his grip just a little. His embrace was starting to feel like a cage. “Now the young master sent me here to ensure you’d keep quiet about this evening’s events, my dearest, but it is quite clear to me that I’ve terrified you enough already. Suffice to say that I’m sure you can imagine the position you would be in should you breathe a word of this to anyone.” You nodded frantically and Sebastian hummed in agreement. “In any event, I do hope you can look past what you’ve seen tonight and come to realise this has always been a part of me, you just didn’t know it. I’m no different now than I was before.” When you realised he was going to say nothing more, you tried to gather some courage from deep within you. You loved Sebastian, you trusted him, but this had thrown you entirely.

Tentatively, nervously, you placed your arms around him, hands resting on his upper back as you buried you face into his shoulder, still not daring to say anything. Feeling you relax a little, Sebastian allowed a hand to gently run over your spine, the other held flat between your shoulder blades. He let out a small breath.

“Are you alright?” You thought about it for a moment, ran through the imagery of the alleyway, but then thought of all the time you had spent with the butler. How kind and caring he had always been towards you and how you had felt about him just moments before your decision to follow him. It occurred to you that if Sebastian not telling you he was a demon was him being untrustworthy, then you had more than repaid the butler by sneaking out after him. At length, you nodded again.

“I will be.” He smiled a little, then left a quick, small kiss on your hair before leaning down to you and squeezing his arms on more time.

“I’m glad.”

#black butler #kuroshitsuji #sebastian michaelis #black butler x reader #black butler sebastian x reader #sebastian michaelis x reader #sebastian x reader #black butler sebastian #kuroshitsuji sebastian #sebastian #kuroshitsuji sebastian x reader

145 notes · View notes

painted-crow · 3 years

Text

Submission time #19

so i’ve been spending the last little bit unburning my lion primary. now i’m sort of lost on secondary? i suspect i have bird in there somewhere but i’m having a hard time separating my natural secondary and a model that i really like and find helpful. (or maybe it’s the now-surprisingly-loud lion primary drive for authenticity coming through?) so if it’s okay with you, i’ll take a crack at some of the quiz questions and see if there’s anything of note? spacing might be weird—i’m on mobile :/

Sure thing!

When you succeed, how influential in that success were the people around you?

my answer to this one depends on the day. yes, they’re extremely influential; no, i don’t always like it. not because i don’t appreciate or need the help but because it got into my head in a funny way growing up. i’ve always been tremendously lucky to have people who love and want to help me, but like... it gets to the point where it feels like i’m nothing on my own. how much of this is a favour? what do i owe you? are you just trying to spare my feelings or because i’m related to someone else? i’m desperate to be able to say (and believe) that i’ve done something for myself on my own terms.

Ooh, okay. So, you've maybe got some caretaker Badgers around you, but that's not you--you don't really value this in yourself, even if it's how the community around you works. If you have any Badger secondary, it's anxious.

Do people consider you charismatic?

charisma is SUCH a concept. it gives off such an animal magnetism, face of the revolution vibe, which is not me at all. i have to work hard to be nice bc most people deserve the benefit of the doubt (as i repress the instinct to be judgy and mean LMAO) and also bc it just works better socially? flies and honey and all that. i also have very specific ways of being nice: “mom friend” and “hypercompetent rookie in line of succession” and “spicy and nonjudgmental confidante” which, granted, are already all parts of my personality just emphasized for clarity. i think of it like... personality colour correction, or... code-switching i guess.

You've literally just described Actor Bird. Also, you're not very nice when you describe yourself, are you?

people tend to like me more than i like me, though, and it catches me a little by surprise every time. maybe it’s just because i live in my own head and it’s a lot quieter and more anxious up here. it does suck a little, suddenly being worried that like “ooh ppl only like what u show them but that’s not how u rlly are”

Lions (primary or secondary) and Actor Bird can really clash... it sounds like you're discovering that your primary doesn't like this tactic as it unburns. Also, I think Bird masks just take a lot of energy if used long term. That might be me though.

so i’ll Sprinkle In Some Light Trauma to gauge the reaction (and regret it immediately). the truth is that not many people make it past the social utility part of friendship and so i don’t rlly... feel safe? putting down the masks which are designed to smooth interactions in any case. (so i guess YES but actually no i’m charismatic but also that’s a very different public facing side)

Yeah, this is all Actor Bird so far. Also, hugs.

Do you like going into situations with a plan?

mmm. i don’t think i plan so much as i attempt to see into the future and force my best outcome. i HATE going in blind—if i can a way around something, i will, but if i can’t it has to at least be a good and sensible attempt. most of the plans i usually put together have coping-mechanism, doodling while on a phone call energy: too granular to ever implement, just something to put order to the things you’re thinking.

This is still lots of Bird energy. Plans don't always look the same, you know? And some of us barely use 'em at all.

like, i do have all my degree requirements and preferred classes listed out, because that’s important and i should have that sorted out correctly before declaring my major. but the hour by hour daily schedule is more of a thing to make me feel in control and like i’ve put the work into considering it.

i’m also a stereotypical nerd: i have an english/history brain, i write a lot, i fall down personality inventory rabbit holes for fun, i pick up random things that end up relevant years later, nothing was as distressing as not being able to read for fun bc university was just Too Much—you know the drill.

I do, but not everyone is like this. You're probably a Bird, and I wonder if you're taking your secondary for granted because you feel like it's expected of you.

but for someone who plans as a coping mechanism, it’s also sometimes the best way to put me off. like i don’t know, being friends, which is the only thing in my life where traditional overthinking would RUIN it absolutely.

i know someone who semi-despairingly refers to herself as machiavellian because she interacts with people like it’s 4D chess.

Huh, so your friends don't talk about themselves very nicely either.

collects info, reshapes her entire personality into something designed to appeal to whoever she’s talking to. i tried not to get into motive bc socializing really is like That sometimes, but i couldn’t imagine pulling that off. i talk big game about acting a certain way, but only in ways that are already part of me yk? if i couldn’t believe i was being legit in some way i’m like 97% sure it would show through somehow and make it real weird.

You're still on Actor Bird. Your friend might have a Snake model? but you're an Actor Bird.

How do you feel about shortcuts?

work smart not hard, she says, working hard anyway bc she needs to see all the little things fall into place just to make sure that they do.

seriously though, that is for “important enough” things: i need to see it done to standard. i can rest only with a job well done kind of thing—due diligence so that any tomfoolery that goes down isn’t my fault and therefore no one can get mad at me.

This might be a Badger model, and I'm gonna take a shot in the dark and say you picked this up from your community because it's what they expect of you. You don't seem to take any joy in it, though; it seems like an anxious response.

also i have beef with the idea of being gullible, so i’m gonna see it with my OWN EYES. for less important things, it’s a heart says yes mind says no situation. i love the shortcut that saves time and effort but keeps the quality, which is plentiful when it’s like. pasta sauce, but not when it’s like. the Donner party heading to california. i would love to shorten that stuff, but the consequences of a poorly done shortcut are more painful than the slog.

Bird modeling Badger. Yep.

Do you feel the need to keep the peace?

(it didn’t come up on this run of the quiz but i’ve been mulling over for a while!)

Huh. This question doesn't always come up? I always get it. I have to assume it's the quiz checking for Badger.

i’ve got a fairly bad temper and a transparent face. so no—i’m not much for keeping the peace. i can do it properly if compelled, but it’s exhausting and irritating and only really makes me resentful of the emotional labour.

Whether you can keep the peace is kind of separate from whether you feel you should, but you also really dislike being in that role. You're modeling some Bookkeeper Badger, which doesn't actually make you happy, and you really don't seem to like using Courtier for anything.

does it bother me when people fight? yeah, like most people do when it’s a rift-causing argument in a group they care strongly about, but if i’m not more loyal to one side of the dispute i’m much more likely to take out all the parties and have done with it. i’ve been known to fight back or even start stuff if the cause is important enough, or i have spleen to vent, but i’m a very messy arguer so staying out of it and collecting receipts in the background is much more my style.

Wonder if you've got some Lion secondary hiding out in your Houses. You don't like going into things unprepared, but maybe there's a Lion model you could be nurturing that would make you happier than that Badger mess that's been pushed on you.

anyway. this was long. made me think harder about badger than i thought. lots of feelings, but def not as sad as the ones i typed up and deleted ages ago which i elect to count as progress. thanks for making it this far hahahah

Yay! Progress!

Yeah, I don't think you're a Badger. It really doesn't make you happy. You sound like a Bird to me: actor Bird, rapid fire Bird, but not Badger. Not Snake, either; if you're a rapid fire or actor Bird (or both) you might mis-Sort yourself into Snake, but I'm not getting that from you.

--Paint

#sortinghatchats #submission #ravenclaw secondary #hufflepuff secondary model #rapid fire bird #actor bird #paint speaks

13 notes · View notes

masked-buffoon · 3 years

Text

Chapter 8: The withering flower (Part 5)

Warnings: none

Author notes : Ogawa comes back to the Port Mafia... What kind of welcome do you think she’ll receive?

The back alleys of Yokohama felt like home, I knew every single shortcut and dead-end, it was not hard to find my way back toward the headquarters. As the automatic sliding doors opened onto me, a wave of muttering erupted in the hall, among the henchmen on a break or guarding the entrance. Rumours of my death had apparently spread among the members of the underground organisation, and seeing me well-alive was not to everyone's taste. I headed toward Akutagawa's office, where he never spent time, but where I knew I could find Higuchi. The poor woman was often stuck doing paperwork, much like how I used to be with Dazai. She would be able to tell me if my name still belonged to the Port Mafia.

"Ogawa-san...?" Her face lit up as she saw me "You're alive...!"

"Blood and flesh." I hummed "So, am I still alive for the Mafia, too...?"

"Oh, you are." She answered my question "Senpai knew you would never lose your life if you were with 'that person'... But he fired you from the squadron."

"Fired me...?" I frowned "What does that mean?"

"You do not work under him anymore." She explained, running a hand through her messy blonde hair "But don't worry, Ogawa-san...! Nakahara-san successfully promoted you to lieutenant under his orders...! But I wonder... Why such an important position so early...?"

"Why... That's what I used to be, after all... He's only giving me my former position back." I told her.

"Your former — wait, how could you be demoted...?"

"I would gladly tell you that story around a cup of coffee, someday." I smiled "For now... Would you mind telling me where Akutagwa is, please?"

"Sure… He said he was in the training room…" She recalled.

"Thank you… Stay well, Higuchi." I glanced over my shoulder as I exited the office.

"So do you, Ogawa-san."

The elevator climbed toward one of the highest floors of the headquarters. The familiar corridor appeared in my field of view as the doors opened and I carefully walked onto the fancy carpet. Nothing had really changed, except that Dazai's office was still empty and remained untouched. I decided to stop by, taking a quick look inside. The atmosphere was still the same, quiet and comfortable, and nothing had been moved. It was exactly as he had left it... I let my fingers wander on the back of the couch, remembering how its leather would make the best bed when I was given sleep... Those days were gone, now... And they would never come back again, unless I decided to make a move toward him. However, if I were to drape myself into this simulacre of happiness, would I not be deceived by the same man again...? I had no way to know if he was being honest toward me... I had assured Odasaku that I would stay by Dazai's side, but as he had left me, could I not go back and forget about everything...? Somehow, I felt those memories would last forever in my mind, engraved even deeper than any physical scar. I could simply not ignore that I had felt happy around him, and it was human to desire tasting such happiness again, even if I could be disappointed afterwards. But if I did not try... No, I wanted to be happy again... I wanted to spend time by this person's side, because he was my reason to live, because I could not keep breathing without his presence near me. There was no point in seeing tomorrow if he could not see it with me...

I closed the door behind me and headed toward Nakahara-san's office. I had made a decision to follow Dazai… It was regrettable, but I would have to turn down the executive's offer for a job. I knocked and was immediately ordered to come in.

"I was expecting you, Ogawa-kun." He looked up at me.

His office was different from Dazai's. It was way more fancy, more sparkly and more... Customised. In the corner, I could not help noticing the wine cave, where he surely kept a few of his favourite expensive bottles. Well, at least, his paperwork seemed done and classified, and his desk was devoid of any trace of feet.

"Did you not believe I was dead...?" I questioned, sitting in front of him.

"How could I? If you met the bastard, he would not let you die so easily. Besides, I believed you would come back to me and got out of my way to get you this job. How do you like it?" He grinned, leaning onto the back of his chair proudly.

"I am really grateful." I nodded at him "Thank you for promoting me..."

"It was your previous rank..." He remembered "I thought it was pretty unfair. I'll prove to the Boss you need not be called disposable anymore."

"Unfortunately, we both know I'm not going to last much longer..." I murmured "Do you still want me to work under you, knowing such a fact...?"

"I do." He affirmed "You were the mackerel's lieutenant, he regularly entrusted you with difficult missions and I remember your strategies were excellent, although it is painful to admit he taught you well… You are fit for the job, even if you have to die soon, your place is there. Besides, we've already talked about it. I'm not that keen on being your superior."

"Even so…" I sighed "I am grateful… I struggled to get by your side, and yet… I cannot accept your offer… Not anymore…"

"Then, I'll have to give you this, I suppose." He handed me a document "You encountered the bandage wasting device, it is obvious that keeping you there is pointless."

"An official authorisation to leave the Port Mafia...?!" My eyes widened "How...? Why...?"

"You've been living solely to see him again..." Nakahara-san crossed his arms "If you were not so determined to meet him again, I am certain you would have died long ago, but you're still living, and you have this new kind of light in your eyes. You hope again, and I figured you would like to be by his side more than staying there until death gets you. Besides, it was easy. Since I'm an executive."

I smiled sincerely at him, extremely grateful he had thought about me to this extent.

"I am touched..." I said "How can I ever repay you for this kindness...?"

"Three things; you stay alive no matter what, you tell that bandage wasting device that I'll definitely kill him, and you call me Chūya. That's all I ask as a payment." He stated.

"Thank you, Chūya..." I smiled "I will not die so easily..."

"I hope so." He smirked, crossing his arm "Good luck out there. It won't be easy."

"Yes… Mmh… May I be so bold as to ask you for a last favour…?"

"What is it, Ogawa?"

"Could you… Could you keep an eye on Akutagawa, please…?

You are a good person, finally..."

"I-I'm not!! I'm a ruthless executive...!! Leave before I'm really pissed off...!!"

#bsd #bsd oc #bsd fanfic #bsd dazai #bsd imagines #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs oc #dazai osamu #bsd chuuya #nakahara chuuya

16 notes · View notes

relationships-world · 3 years

Text

Relationship rewrite method

https://relationship.healthbrzee.com/

read following points:-1) Unlock His Love with The Power of Conversational Storywhen does he think of you? When your name pops up on your man's phone, what do you think goes through his head? Is he excited to talk to you? Does he feel compelled to respond right away? Does he read your texts but then leave you waiting for a response until most of the day has passed? Or does he completely ignore the messages? The truth is, A LOT is going on in his mind when it comes to you. Memories, emotions, anticipation of the future (is this going to be a good interaction or a bad one?)... All these things flash through his mind in the blink of an eye. And his response (or lack thereof) is more of a gut feeling than a well thought out decision. The same is true when it comes to how he views your relationship in general. If you're having a hard time getting through to him, chances are he feels bad about the relationship. It probably isn't a conscious thing, but a bunch of factors make him instinctively feel like the relationship is more a source of pain than pleasure. We'll get into this more in a minute, but at the end of the day, "pain VS pleasure" is the ONE factor that determines whether he wants to be with you or not. In other words, if he has a gut feeling that your relationship is a source of pain, then no amount of logic, convincing, or begging will change his mind. His mind is already made up--from the inside out. We need to change that. We need to make him instinctively feel drawn to the pleasure of a relationship with you. If you can accomplish that ONE thing, he will be the one chasing you. So let me show you how I've helped women all over the world pull it off. watchvideo presentation2) The Movie Trailer Method.Your mind is an anticipation machine. The human brain is marvellous and complex, but its most amazing feature is its ability to experience the future before it arrives. In fact, getting what you want in life really comes down to one simple thing: The ability to see the future in your mind's eye before it actually happens. This skill, above all else, separates those who get what they want in life from those who don't. Why is this skill so important? The answer is simple. The more detailed your mental map of the future, the easier it is to see which paths to take to reach the outcomes you desire. The more detailed your mental map, the more powerful you become. Like a master chess player, you can anticipate traps and sidestep them before they fully form. You can also try out dozens of moves in your mind's eye before choosing the best one. But I'm talking about real life, not a game. People who learn to use this skill live charmed lives. Everything just seems to unfold in their favour. Is it luck? Is it magic? No. It's simply an enhanced ability to play out various possibilities in the mind's eye and recognize the choices that will bring the most pleasure and the least pain. But here's the tricky part. Seeing the future is not like skipping ahead to the last page of a book to see how the story ends. Your future is not a single, linear path. Rather, there are a hundred different ways your future could unfold. Changing just one variable in your life can have a cascading effect on every other variable. Things can get confusing fast. It's hard to anticipate how all the different variables will interact. Fortunately, I have a solution. It's like a shortcut that gives you most of the benefits without the headache of trying to anticipate how every little thing will interact. What is this solution? It's knowing which variables to focus on. Knowing where to focus your attention is the key to getting more of what you want in life. When it comes to relationships, there's one variable I want you to focus on. I want you to become an expert at noticing this one variable. And I want you to learn how to manipulate this variable so you can have the relationship you want. Ready? Okay, here it is: I want you to become an expert at triggering the right kind of mental movie trailers other people have playing in their heads. We are all running mini-movies of the future in our mind. People do it automatically all the time. They don't practice the skill intentionally. They even take it for granted. Most never bother to question the super quick movie trailers that pop in and out of their thoughts all day long. That's good news for you! Because it gives you a tremendous advantage when trying to change the way someone feels about you. The fact is, no one's in the director's chair. No one is controlling the mini-movies that blip in and out of your man's mind. Since no one is directing this movie, you can waltz onto the set and change the storyline. And you can do this anytime you want. Why These Mini-Mental Movies Matter So Much Have you ever received a social invitation and immediately decided you have no desire to attend? How does that happen? How is it that you instantly know you don't want to go? Simple. In a fraction of a second, you played a mini-mental movie of the entire experience. Actually, that's not quite right. It wasn't the "entire experience". In reality, it was more like a movie preview. Just little clips showing the highlights. And like a good movie trailer, each clip pulled at your emotions. You saw a super-speed version of what it would be like to accept the invitation. You pictured yourself feeling bored. You picture yourself walking back to your car when it was over, wishing you had spent your free time doing something else. Your mind created a mini-movie to help you make a decision. It happened lightning-fast, and mostly outside your consciousness. But you were left with a distinct FEELING that turned you off to the idea. Your mind is remarkably good at this. It's the process by which we decide what we want. If you are a person who struggles with anxiety, you may not love this feature of your mind. You may prefer to be more like a cat who is blissfully at peace with the present moment, not concerned about things to come next year, next month, or even tomorrow. Neuroscientists who study the concept of memory tell us the marvellous ways our minds encode, store, and retrieve life experiences. As we learn, we generate increasingly complex and accurate models of the future. You could say the purpose of our memory is to allow us to predict the future. If I remember that chocolate cake tastes better when it's moist, my brain anticipates a better experience when I choose to eat it now rather than letting it grow stale. However, if I remember that chocolate cake is my weakness, I may cut the serving in half and put the other half out of sight to remove the temptation, using better judgment for my health. If a large dog chased me on my way home from school as a child, I may still anticipate negative emotions from the idea of approaching a large dog even twenty years later. Here's my point. Memories give us the ability to anticipate what is coming next: pleasure or pain. You may not see where this is going yet but stick with me. These concepts are critical to understanding. They are simple concepts, but things I need to remind you of, to "activate" your mind so they will be fresh concepts as we dive into the foundational methods of this course. 3) Human MotivationHumans are motivated by many things. But almost all motivation comes down to either the pursuit of pleasure or the avoidance of pain. Your ex's decisions are no different. He is motivated the same way. But how does he know which decisions to make to pursue pleasure and avoid pain? Memory. His memory creates the movie trailers he uses to "see" the future. His brain is an anticipation machine. It is automatically making judgments about what he should do next to avoid pain and pursue pleasure. The reality of your current situation is that the movie trailers his mind is playing are showing him potential pain or a lack of pleasure in being with you. We've got to change that! Now for some good news and some bad news. Bad news first: We cannot go back in time and change his memories. But the good news: We can alter his feelings about the future without changing memories from the past. Certain trigger points cause people to re-evaluate old memories in a new light. Basically, we're going to change the theme of the mini-movies in his head that affect his feelings about your relationship. We're going to change the soundtrack. Change the lighting. Selectively choose clips that highlight the fun, the exciting adventure he could have if he chooses to make you the most important person in his future. Allow me to provide a few examples to get us on the same page. We are talking about "aha" moments that change his perspective. The memories have not changed, but the way he SEES them can change dramatically. Here's an example from my own experience: I was once hired as a consultant for a company that provided relationship advice. The owners of the company were highly complimentary of me. During our work together, my self-esteem began to inflate considerably because of their frequent recognition of my "unusual talent." It was nearly six months later when I discovered their long-term plan to sell me their entire business (at a highly inflated price). This dramatically shifted my perspective! Suddenly, I replayed all the discussions about my talents for running such a business. At the time, I had been surprised they would admit I could run the business as well - if not better - than they could. Now, looking back, I see the ego-stroking as false flattery designed to make me want to buy their business. That eye-opening moment changed my view on our relationship and the game I was involved in.4) True Actions and IntentionsI'll offer another example. Jane Austen's novel "Pride and Prejudice," (which has been made into multiple movies over the years) tells the tale of Elizabeth, a young woman who can barely stand the sight of Mr Darcy. Throughout the story, Elizabeth is under the impression that Mr Darcy is proud and selfish. This is based on several reliable things she had seen and heard. However, at the end of the story, Elizabeth discovers she was wrong. She had misunderstood the actions and intentions of Mr Darcy. Suddenly, she recognizes his true valour and goodness. She sees that he is more interested in the well-being of others than his own reputation. In the end, it wasn't Elizabeth's memories that changed. It was her understanding that changed. It shifted in a way that caused her to anticipate great pleasure from being with Mr Darcy in an intimate relationship. And of course, they lived happily ever after as a married couple. 5) Your Mission, Should You Choose To Accept It: Your mission is to tamper with the anticipation machine running in your ex's mind. Specifically, your mission is to change the mini-movies that play in his mind when he thinks about spending time with you. You're going to get those mental trailers to work in your favour. There is no other way. You have no chance of restoring your relationship unless he seeks a relationship with you as a path toward pleasure, absent from any level of pain that would cancel out that pleasure. Fortunately, The Relationship Rewrite Method was designed as an answer to this complicated problem. This system helps you find a way to be the leading lady in your life. To convince your ex - not only to let you play a part but also to make you his star. You see, a memory is just a form of anticipation based on past experience. Most people think of memory in the form of stories to be remembered and shared. That is what psychologists call "declarative memory." But there is another kind of memory called "implicit memory." Implicit memory is the kind you use when you get on a bicycle and instinctively recognize (or remember) how to balance. Implicit memory is not something you can put into words. You just know how to ride a bicycle. Declarative memory can be transferred to another person in the form of a story. But you can't transfer the implicit memory for how to balance on a bike. In other words, your ex can tell his friends, "First she did this, then I said that and then we got into a big fight." That's declarative memory. Implicit memory cannot be transferred using words. He cannot transfer the memory of what it feels like to kiss you. Your job is to change the implicit feel of the mini-mental movies that automatically play when he glances down at his phone and sees your name. We have to start small and gradually rebuild his gut-level emotional reactions to you. It's possible that seeing your number come up on his cell phone causes an instant twinge of anger mixed with fear and regret. Those are implicit memories triggering the wrong kind of response. The fights or strained relationship that led to your breakup may still dominate the mental movie that plays in his mind when he considers picking up the phone to talk with you. We need to change that mental trailer so your name brings the same excited anticipation Hollywood tries to create with a really cool movie preview. We're going to rewire his expectations and help him see a new future with you. By the way, are you enjoying this free report so far? If so, you would love my relationship course. It has laser-targeted advice in a 6-step formula to win back the affections of your ex and make him yours for good.Use the Power of Story to Touch His Emotions"Better to light a candle than to curse the darkness." ~ Chinese proverb 6) The human brain is wired for story. Lisa Cron, a highly-acclaimed writer, wrote an entire book on the subject. Hailed as a "story guru," Cron has explored the brain science behind the power of stories. She teaches other writers how to hook the human mind from the very first sentence. There is something special about how a story causes the human mind to pay attention. Cron proposes that from the earliest times, humans have transferred information primarily through a story. Stories are so memorable they can be used to transfer wisdom and knowledge from one generation to the next. Stories prevent humans from making the same mistakes as those who came before them. Stories also shed light on the way humans persevere and succeed in various circumstances. Perhaps the most powerful way a story can be used is as a tool for changing someone's opinion. Stories don't require effort to pay attention. Our minds are designed for stories. We naturally focus when someone transfers information to us in the narrative form. In Paul Smith's book, "Lead with a Story," he makes the case that business leaders can "captivate, convince, and inspire" using stories in the workplace. Smith relays hundreds of instances about influencing the minds of others by telling a simple story instead of relaying facts and information.7) The Power Of Stories Smith and Croon have recognized the power of stories to transfer knowledge. But here's what I want you to understand. Stories make it easier for you to influence people. They are more effective than trying to convince people with arguments, logic, facts, or begging. I have experienced this firsthand. I once attended a fundraising event for people living in the impoverished nation of Burkina Faso. I was unmoved by the statistics presented on how many children go hungry and how many families lack the basic necessities for good health. Then the presenter told the story of two little girls who had been struggling together to survive the hardship of their lives, I was suddenly hooked. I understood their plight on an emotional level. I immediately cared enough to take out my wallet and sacrifice what I could to help with the relief efforts. Think for a moment about the variables of a court case. Think of all the factors that determine if a defendant will be found guilty or innocent by jurors in a trial. Experts work diligently to narrow down the list of variables to those that will have the most powerful influence on the outcome of the trials. Can you guess the number one factor that influences the jury's final opinion of a defendant? Experts tell us it's not the facts of the case. They say it's not the evidence presented. Rather, it comes down to who tells the most believable story. If jury members can picture themselves in a vivid story and imagine the events unfolding the way the defendant claims they did, they will find the defendant "not guilty." If the prosecuting attorney tells a more convincing story, the defendant will most likely be found "guilty." How can I use this information in my everyday life, you ask? Here's how: we will craft a special kind of story to influence your ex's perspective. Stories evoke emotion and change minds.I want you to tell your ex the story of your relationship in a way that causes him to automatically begin to root for your relationship. Did you ever see The Italian Job, The Saint, or Ocean's Eleven? All these movies are about thieves trying to pull off big-time heists. They are stories about criminals. And yet, as you watch these movies, you begin to root for the criminals to succeed. You want them to get away with the loot and live happily ever after. Doesn't that seem strange to you? Why do we root for thieves to succeed at stealing other people's hard-earned resources? It's because their life experience was presented to us in the form of a story. The protagonist is the hero figure in a plotline - the person about whom the story is written. There can be more than one protagonist in a story, as there is in William Shakespeare's classic story, Romeo and Juliet. In Romeo and Juliet, we root for the relationship of this young couple. Sure, we care about Romeo and we care about Juliet, but the relationship itself becomes as important to us as either character. As you read or watch Romeo and Juliet, do you find yourself wishing they would just forget about each other? Don't you want them to put their own safety first and move on with their lives? After all, if you really cared about Romeo and Juliet, wouldn't you advise them not to put their lives in peril by pursuing the romance further? Of course not. That's not what you root for. (It's not what I root for either!) We want them to be together.9) We root for the relationship! We see the beauty of life unfolding in the way they discover one another, and our hearts want them to be happy. We understand the risks they take to breathe life into the new passion they discovered through love at first sight. Here's the point. By making your relationship itself the hero of the story, you can cause him to root for the relationship. Do you remember Allie and Noah from Nicholas Sparks' novel-turned-movie, The Notebook? The story of their relationship was a powerful tear-jerker. As an 80-year-old man, Noah reads to his wife, Allie. She has developed Alzheimer's and does not remember, yet she roots for the characters in the story of her own life as Noah reads from her journal. The story Noah reads to Allie is powerful. It is so powerful we pay money to participate in this story by going to a heater or purchasing the book. Using the power of story is only one of 6 powerful steps that will help you reconnect with your man, even in the worst situations. Bring him back. Save your relationship. Get the happiness you deserve. Always on your side, James Bauerhttps://relationship.healthbrzee.com/

#followers follow like followforfollowback likeforlikes likes followback instagram likeforfollow followme instagood love f instalike photogra

1 note · View note

darkanachronism · 4 years

Text

Keziah Mason Meets the Whateley’s

"Who 're yew an' what're yew doin' in my lab?" Wilbur demanded, looking down at the old woman.

"Depends," she started, "on why you smell like Yuggoth."

~~~~~

What’s this, me posting writing on main? More likely then you think. Anyways have the Lovecraft crossover no one asked for.

Wilbur had been preparing the shed for some time now. He didn't have to yet, but he would eventually with Twin getting as big as it was.

For now though, he just wanted a bit of space. A little respite from his mother, from his brother. From the Byhakee it had upstairs.

Just a quiet place to read, to write, to study.

Admittedly it was a rather sad little makeshift lab, but it was his nonetheless. The chairs and tables fit him, he barely had to stoop to get in the door, yes this was as comfortable as he could hope to get.

Wilbur was just about to enter with another armful of books when he heard a crash from inside.

The crash, and accompanying string of curse words belonged to an old woman stumbling out of a corner, tripping over a pile of books and face planting onto the floor.

Keziah Mason has taken a wrong turn on her trip back to Arkham. Something she immediately decided not to tell anyone about, in a rush or not this was an amateur mistake.

She rolled onto her back and cussed again. Being fairly certain she'd heard some bone or other make a noise it shouldn't. And took in her surroundings, digging in the pockets of her robe for something to throw at whoever owned the place.

The door creaked open and Keziah was staring down the barrel of a revolver.

Fuck.

"Who 're yew an' what're yew doin' in my lab?" Wilbur demanded, looking down at the old woman. She looked harmless.

So did lots of things.

Keziah blinked in surprise, trying to take in all of the massive figure that loomed above her, to place the unearthly stink that came off him, and come up with an answer to his questions all at once.

"Depends," she started, "on why you smell like Yuggoth."

She managed two out of three, and to stall for time on the third. The gun lowered just a little, Wilbur's brows furrowing in surprise. Not the answer he’d been expecting. Or for that matter one he’d accept.

"I’ll answer yew once yew answer me seein’ as I asked first an' I've got the gun."

No point in distracting himself.

"Both valid points. I'm Keziah Mason, and I took a wrong turn. Now you."

Cryptic and sort of a non answer, but in certain circles her name preceded her, and in others bothering to explain that you were not just a common burglar but an fiendishly intelligent witch who could use her knowledge of advanced physics and arcane secrets to travel long distances via interdimensional shortcuts, well that sort of talk was just as likely to earn you a bullet as keeping quiet. Even if the man towering above her could barely pass for human himself.

" 's just how I smell is all." He answered her first question. "And I'm Wilbur Whateley." She hadn’t asked for a name, but it seemed polite to give one.

Whateley, of course, everything clicked into place.

“Yog-Sothoth’s kid then?” She asked quirking a wiry brow. She’d expected more...Tentacles? Maybe a tail or something. Still, something around the eyes put her in mind of the fathomless space beyond spaces.

The revolver dropped to Wilbur's side as he tried to puzzle through how to respond to being called out so casually. He nodded. Not sure what else to do.

"Help an old lady up would you?"

Wilbur did, hauling Keziah rather artlessly to her feet, still baffled into silence.

"How'd yew know that?"

Keziah shrugged. “Your family’s been at this for a while. Honestly I’m surprised things lined up."

"Yeah, guess et were a bit 've wurk on granpa's part." Wilbur trailed off mumbling, scratching the back of his neck and looking around for something else to discuss. The topic of his conception was awkward, he imagined that was one of the few things he had in common with any other teenager.

"Sorry, didn't catch that. Tinnitus." Keziah said, adding the explanation with a grimace. It was a small price to pay for visiting The Court of course, but a deuced nuisance most of the time.

"Uhh, Nuthin'." Wilbur said, before changing the topic abruptly.

"Yew still didn’t explain why yer here."

"Told you I took a wrong turn.” She was trying to sound casual, but perhaps came off as a tiny bit defensive. “Just a tiny miscalculation on my part. We are in New England aren’t we?"

"Dunnich."

Keziah pulled a face and Wilbur laughed.

"Take et yew've visited before?"

"Not if I can help it. Is it still as painfully backwoods as it was in...1786?"

Wilbur quirked a brow, sure, she looked old, but not that old.

"Nah, et's wurse."

"You poor thing." Keziah patted him on the arm, it was about all she could reach.

The condescension wasn't appreciated, nor was the physical contact, Wilbur pulled away from that, but since she evidently loathed Dunwich, he let it slide.

"Where were yew tryin' t' get then?"

"Arkham."

"That ain’t far,” Wilbur started helpfully. “Yew culd take our horse, Long as yew return et."

It’s not that he was a particularly generous man, he had no natural inclination to help a stranger out. But it wasn’t as if he was planning to ride anywhere any time soon.

Keziah chuckled.

"Thanks for the offer, but I can get there faster." Keziah glanced around the makeshift magical laboratory, looking for something.

"Do you have some graph paper I could borrow?" She asked after a moment.

"Uh, yeah I c-" Wilbur was cut off by a tentative knock on the half opened door.

"Wilbur, dinner's rea-," Lavnia called out, opening the door as she did so. Ordinarily she wouldn't but in like that, Wilbur had been so insistent on his privacy lately. But he’d left it ajar, so she didn’t see any harm.

She paused mid step to stare. In what world did Wilbur have company? And how had she missed the woman showing up in the first place.

"Who's yer friend?" .

Wilbur looked between the two and stepped out of the way to make introductions.

"Uh, hi Ma, this is-"

"Keziah Mason. One of Nyarlathotep's Thousand Favoured." she said, brushing past Wilbur and offering the other woman a hand to shake. No need to be cagey about who she was now.

Lavinia very quickly wiped her hands on her skirts before accepting, clearly flustered by the title drop.

"I'm Lavinia Whateley, pleased t' meet yew."

Wilbur wasn't half so impressed, actually he had to wonder what she did to earn the Crawling Chaos' attention. Or if she wasn't just full of shit like so many magicians turned out to be.

"I'm sure it's mutual. Don't let you keep you from Dinner though, I was just about to leave."

"Yew dun half tew, ef yew dun want. I mean, yew culd stay fer diner ef yew'd lak. We dun often have guests, 'specially 'un so destingished."

Wilbur winced at his mother's gushing and hand wringing. She was special enough in her own right that she shouldn't be tripping over herself to impress some witch who couldn’t even keep her angles right.

Admittedly Wilbur’s understanding of interdimensional travel and the mathematics involved in them were shaky at best. But he could make an educated guess as to what a wrong turn meant.

Keziah considered the invitation, taking a quick look at each of the Whateley’s to guess at how much of an intrusion she’d be before answering.

“Why not, I don’t really need to be back until Sunday.” She gave a casual shrug.

Lavinia positively beamed when the older woman accepted her invitation. A reaction that made Keziah question the other woman’s sanity just a bit.

“Well, house es this way ef yew tew want t’ follow me. Sorry ‘bout the house bein’ in a state, et’s ain’t usually this much ‘ve a mess.” Lavinia gestured for the other two to do just that, before backing out of the door way.

Wilbur let Keziah go out ahead of him and locked up behind the trio.

Dinner at the Whateley house was usually an awkward affair, consisting of strained attempts at small talk from Lavinia and increasingly successful attempts to avoid that small talk on Wilbur’s part. So a third party was appreciated, and it really didn’t take much to set Keziah off.

An idle question about how exactly she knew the Whateley’s from Lavinia prompted wild stories about Wilbur’s great great grandparents, questions about Yuggoth from Wilbur earned an even more energetic response. All the while Keziah displayed the kind of table manners that startled even Wilbur.

It was increasingly difficult to imagine the hunched old woman tearing into a drumstick with clawed hands and trying to explain the Dho Formula through a mouthful of chicken rubbing elbows with The Outer Gods, acting as a messenger for Nyarlathotep himself.

But she did know things. Gods did she know things. His grandpa has known some and read some, and Wilbur had done his best with that meager tutelage and a plethora of crumbling books. But Keziah, she rattled off facts and incantations and corrections to his magical theory like other people talked about the weather.

The conversation was beyond Lavinia’s grasp, she nodded when she thought it was appropriate. And was quickly forgotten by the other two. She didn’t mind though. It was a rare treat to see Wilbur so animated.

Dinner ended with everyone in a good mood, Lavinia offered to clear up and let the other two retreat to Wilbur’s lab, Keziah still had to work out exactly where she’d gone wrong in her calculations earlier, and Wilbur was eager for a crash course traveling the space between spaces.

“Don’t worry kid, I’ll work slow so you can keep up.”

The teasing earned her a sour look. Even as Wilbur bent over the desk to see what she was working on.

“I’m sure I’ll manage just fine, I’m sharper ‘en most folks.”

“So am I.”

If Keziah made things a little unnecessarily complicated just to show off who could blame her. Wilbur was a nice enough kid. But she couldn’t let him think he was smart just because his dad knew absolutely everything there was to know.

Still, she helped. More than slaving over his books alone could. And after some untold hours. Keziah stood up, stretching and cracking her back and knuckles as she did.

“I think that’s enough for the night. I’ve got to get back to Arkham, and I really hate to travel when I’m tired.”

Wilbur looked down at her with a frown.

“S’pose ef yew’ve got tew. Like ma said, yew can come back whenever yew like. Jus’ use a door next time.”

Keziah let out a low scoff and rolled her eyes. “Absolutely not kid, doors are for people with no imagination.”

She traced a quick sign in the air, lines lingering that glowed a shade no human eyes could really appreciate, and without another word Keziah stepped through the corner of Wilbur’s laboratory and was presumably back in Arkham. The space she just occupied tilting strangely before folding in and righting itself.

Wilbur stared and wished he’d had his better eyes out to watch that. Probably would have been quite impressive to see in five dimensions.

#Wilbur Whateley #Lavinia Whateley #The Dunwich Horror #Keziah Mason #Dreams In The Witch House #my writing #I don't know how much of my writing I'll post #but I may as well right

32 notes · View notes

ilcaeryx · 5 years

Text

Tenacity: Chapter 10 - Kingpin [Bakugou Katsuki/Reader]

SUMMARY: You should not have challenged Katsuki to a snowball fight. What did you expect? To win? LUL

TAGS: Bakugou Katsuki/Reader, reader-insert, comfort, soft, fluff, romance, reader being a crazy bitch, snowball fight, cheesy

NOTES: Part of the Tenacity reader-insert compilation! I had fun writing this.

Taking a shortcut through the still and untouched forest sucked, Katsuki veering off from your usual route into it without a word. Like a baby duck struggling after mama duck, you followed his literal footsteps. You bounced from leg to leg, fitting your boot inside the larger imprints he left behind. Snow had fallen during the night, evident by everything being covered in white powder. It could have been the secret palace of a drug lord, snow adorning the branches and dead vegetation causing gentle billows beneath the matte glow.

“Do we have to walk through the snow? We could’ve taken the normal way,” you complained, glaring down at your burning thighs. Even with Katsuki paving the way, it was quite the workout.

“Why are you complaining?” Katsuki said, white breath trailing after him as if he were a dragon exhaling smoke. He shuffled through the thick snow layer with powerful strides and arms reinforcing the motions. “You’re not the one plowing the way.”

His dumb answer fired you up. In short succession, you trampled into the indentations until he was half a step ahead. You smacked his behind with whatever force you could muster, the glove softening the slap. “I don’t care, you brute. This is a workout routine I did not want.”

Katsuki had the nerve to send you an indignant glare over his shoulder, nose bridge scrunched. “Don’t follow next time then, dumbass.”

“You know that’s not an option.”

If he went somewhere, you’d tread in his footsteps regardless of where you would end up. Whether he knew this or not, you would never let him out of sight. As long as his back was visible, you’d keep moving towards it.

“Everything’s a choice, quit bitching.” Katsuki grasped a low-hanging branch obstructing the way and bent it to the side as he continued onwards. He waited until you were past it to release it, branch swooping to its original position. Without breaking a sweat, he kept going.

Your lungs sparkled with pain, every inhalation bringing raw, crispy air through your airways. You hid your mouth and nose beneath your winter jacket’s collar, alleviating the pain by breathing out hot air.

Katsuki hadn’t noticed that you had stopped, so you scooped up snow and hardened it between your fingerless mittens into a nice ball. Aiming carefully, you threw it and hit him square between the shoulders. It left traces of white on his black double-breasted jacket. He stopped in his tracks and ditched his hands into his pockets.

“Stop walking so fast,” you said, voice muffled behind cloth. “I’m about to die.”

He turned around, his cheeks reddened from the cold. “Power through it.”

You bent down and created yet another snowball, padding it within your palms.

“If you throw that, I’ll return the favour,” Katsuki warned, eyebrows shooting up in a quick display of aggression.

Yeah, yeah… Whatever you say, blondie. You’re bluffing, you thought. He genuinely did use everything at his disposal whenever he felt someone challenged him, including you, so you could be on thin ice depending on his mood.

“Your aim is trash,” you outright stated in a matter-of-fact tone, deadpanning through the cockiness inside you.

Once he started moving towards you, you instantly regretted everything and screamed, because his full-toothed grin and low posture exuded confidence.

Fuck this shit, he was going to kick your ass to outer space. You backtracked your footsteps in a frantic dash, ducking beneath branches and sliding across icy parts.

“Why are you running?” he bellowed. “I’m gonna fucking destroy you! Die!”

His taunts caused your screaming to increase in pitch and you didn’t turn around to see whether it amused him or not. This game made you feel thrill and actual fear.

“Fight, Y/N! Fight me, you coward!”

“NO!” Your screaming caught in your throat as your body jerked backwards, reflexes trying to keep you upright. You flailed around and hit the ground, fall broken by your thick jacket.

The crunchiness of footsteps ceased and a pair appeared in your field of view. Katsuki slid down onto his knees and snatched your hands, joining them behind your back in an automatic, trained movement.

“Gotcha.”

“I’m sorry!” you pleaded through your nervous laughter, thrashing your arms against his solid grip. It didn’t hurt but you wouldn’t get away without his approval.

“I’m sure you are.”

The pressure from your wrists eased and you drew your arms forward, pressure replaced by him collapsing his upper body over your back, your bodies forming a T. You groaned when he put one elbow on your lower back. Your breathing was somewhat constrained.

“Heavy!” you complained, clumsily hitting him with an open hand on his side.

Katsuki barked out a laugh. “Should’ve thought of that before you hit me with a snowball, lightweight.”

You heard him dig around in the snow behind you. His glove presented a handful in front of you and you attempted to shield your exposed neckline with your arms.

“Sucker,” he said and forced his hand between your chest-bone and shirt, snow spreading across your chest and into your bra. You shrieked in surprise from the cold and you instinctively brought your hands up to dig out the snow. That earned you another fistful in the nape, Katsuki pressing it down between your shoulder blades, the snow absolutely burning against your warm skin. He didn’t relent as you struggled beneath him, howling and shrieking. At last he rubbed snow all over your hair. When he felt like he’d had enough retribution, he pushed himself off you, breathing suddenly a simple task.

“It burns,” you said, throwing off your gloves to remove whatever snow hadn’t melted. “You got snow into my bra, Katsuki.”

He settled down again, his knees digging into the ground.

“Next time, I hope you’ll think twice before trying being a jackass,” he said, roughly brushing snow away from your hair.

You crawled up into sitting position, sneering at him. He scoffed at you, scooting closer.

Katsuki flicked his index and middle fingers in an inward motion, his gloves making the movement seem graceless. “Sit up, Y/N. I’ll get it out for you.”

You bent your head towards him and he untangled the snow clumps from your messy hair. Soon the water was absorbed by your clothes and your hair gathered into a terrible looking mess.

“It’s unfair that I can’t fight you on equal terms,” you said, trying to comb your hair with numb fingers.

“That’s what everyone says.”

You opened your mouth in mock surprise, drawing your brows together. “Such hubris.”

Katsuki lowered himself onto his back, contemplating the sky above.

“One day I’ll let you win,” he said and shut his eyes. “That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

“I don’t want your pity win.” You gave up on your hair with a sigh. Once you got home, you’d have to brush it properly or it’d be a bitch to untangle later.

“That’s a good attitude.”

“I get enough pity from everyone else by dating you, so I don’t need any from you.”

You squealed when he thrashed up towards you and clamped his teeth on your thigh, delicately biting down. He let go, resting his cheek against you. It was impossible to resist giving his hair a few light tugs.

“Pity, huh?” he said and rested a hand on your opposite thigh. “The peasants can say all they want. In the end, I’m the one who got the girl. They can stay salty for all I care.”

“If I had by chance ended up with someone else, would I have been a peasant too?”

“Don’t kid yourself.” Katsuki’s hands slid around your waist, joining together behind your back. “That would never have happened. I’m the only one that can handle you; you’re too damn crazy for just about anyone else.”

Your body bloomed in pangs of heat, your chest and the pit of your stomach aching in a pleasant way. Hoping he wouldn’t see your giddy smile, you brushed some snow off his back. “Same goes for you.”

“Damn right, baby.”

Your waist protested when he released you and you felt like this moment had passed by too fast. The wet cloth rubbed uncomfortably against your skin as you also got up. “I’m cold.”

Katsuki eyed your front, snow lodged everywhere.

Yes, that was all you, you napkin, you commented inside your head.

“You should head back home,” he said, grasping your cheek with his fingers and tugging gently. Reluctantly, he added, “I’ll get the stuff we need myself.”

“I told you before, I’m not going anywhere without you.”

His face became blank, an empty mirage reflecting your own serious one. For some reason, you perceived glow of admiration in his eyes.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice slightly thicker than before, “I know.”

I hope you all enjoyed it, please like and/or reblog if you did!

I listened to Baby Don't Stop by NCT U while writing the draft, which worked tbh, and Pied Piper by BTS during the re-write.

#bnha x reader #bnha x y/n #bnha x you #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #ilcaeryx.tenacity

40 notes · View notes

messedupessy · 5 years

Note

Number 15 with the Fell brothers~! :3

Ahhhh here ya go man I literally wrote this in one day, which is today just frikking wrote it in pretty much one go and I am seriously proud of myself gnkjegnkjgkrje so yeah enjoy xD ❤

Edit 2021/01/05: Decided to update this, fixed some grammar and added some minor things, enjoy!

Stealing Flowers

Relationship: None, just bros

Warnings: Mention of animal death, but nothing graphic or detailed

Prompt: “Are you seriously stealing flowers off that grave?”

Summary: Red joins Edge on a trip to the cemetery.

AO3

Story below cut

“Red, Really?”, Red heard Edge say slightly behindhim, clearly exasperated. “Are You Seriously Stealing Flowers Off That Grave?”

“yep, sure am baby bro.”, he replied with his usualwide grin, as it was true. He was currently picking, or stealing as Edge calledit, some flowers off of a grave he was squatting down in front of.

Though it wasn’t really stealing since the flowerswere technically grown there and clearly not planted, was actually rather whatmost people would call weeds. So in turn Red was actually doing the cemeterystaff a favour by removing some of the said weeds off the grave.

“And Do Tell Me Why Exactly You Are Doing Such AThing, Brother?”, Edge asked again, his voice stiff with barely held backirritation.

“jist doin’ my daily good deed of tha day, bro.”, Redjoked with a dark chuckle, the disgusted noise he got in return worth it. Hethen stood up with the flowers in hand, turning around so he was now face toface with his much younger, and also sort of angry, brother.

Edge was dressed in a fancy black suit; with some kneehigh boots that had some minor heel to them which Red was thankful for theother wearing. As Edge really needed to stop stomping around with those overlyhigh heels of his, they were so not good for that bad hip of his. And alongsidethat cute scowl his face was currently expressing, so was he holding a largebouquet of red roses with a large matching ribbon.

Red himself was not dressed up for the occasion atall, he was in fact just wearing his usual outfit as he hadn’t bothered at allor even tried to dress up, unlike his brother.

“nah, thought i shoulda get somethin’ fer tha grave,pay me respects an’ all that shit, ya know.”, Red then added with a shrugbefore Edge had a chance to say anything else, fiddling with the flowers heheld in his hands slightly, his mind noting they were probably some sort ofdandelions or something.

That gave Edge pause, stopped him right as he wasabout to say something, probably a lecture, but instead he ended up juststanding there with stunned surprise on his features. But it wasn’t long untilhis whole body visibly relaxed, letting out a deep sigh in defeat, while alsogiving Red a suspicious glare.

“Let’s… Let’s Keep Moving.”, Edge uttered before hequickly began to walk, quickly making his way past Red and down the path of thecemetery with long steps.

And like the lazy ass he was, Red instead of followinghis brother simply took a shortcut.

Then quickly reappearing with barely a sound at theirdestination, which was another grave.

He eyed the grave lazily while he waited for hisbrother, which wouldn’t take long thanks to those long legs of his. The blackgranite of the headstone shined brightly in the strong summer sun, slightlyblinding him but not enough to stop him from reading what was written on it.

It said, with big fancy golden letters:

Doomfanger

Unknown July. 17

2261 - 2284

Beloved pet,companion and friend

Around the textthere were paw prints carved into the stone also with gold in them, alongsideother golden squiggly patterns here and there which he guessed were leaves orsome shit, his brother not sparing any expense when it came to the grave of hisnow dead pet cat.

The old furballhad finally bit the dust last year at about 23 years of age, which apparentlywas pretty old for a cat. Though she might have been older as it wasn’t fullysure how old she had been when Edge found her back in the underground.

Thinking of theunderground, it was still weird how that was just about 11 years ago, that thebarrier broke and all monsterkind was freed from their imprisonment.

His thoughtswere interrupted by the arrival of his brother, who with quick steps made hisway next to him where he stopped.

He looked athis brother, who was looking very stoic and tense as he watched the grave,holding the roses in his hand tightly, before be abruptly turned to him,reaching out the hand with the roses towards him.

“Hold These, INeed To Clean The Grave.”, Edge muttered tersely.

“sure thin’,bro.”, Red replied taking a hold of the roses, the thought of saying no justbecause running through his mind, but he decided not to for once. His brotherwas already, no pun intended, on edge.

His brotherthen stepped forward and got to work, pulling out various tools from his phoneinventory before kneeling down, grimacing slightly as he did thanks to his oldinjuries. But his expression quickly turned determined as he got to work,removing any weeds that had popped up since last time he had been there,removing old flowers and so on, while Red just stood there watching him work.

The urge topush Edge to the side and do the work himself, even though this sort of shitwork wasn’t his thing, was overwhelming. But he knew his baby brother wouldn’ttake it well, since this was his duty and all that shit, so he let it be, sinceafter all the death of his pet cat had hit his brother hard, harder than youwould expect.

Like to Red itwas just a cat, an animal, they die quickly when it comes to monsters like themwho lives for a very long time. So he didn’t really fully get why Edge wasstill so upset about it and still grieving even a year after.

A low huffescaped him, guess he truly was an insensitive arse.

Still, hehappily tagged along whenever his brother went to visit Doomfanger’s grave,spending any time with his baby brother was time well spent.

It didn’t takelong for Edge to clean the grave, since he came and visited it at least acouple of times a month, so any weeds, rotten flowers or other cleaning of thegrave was quick work. Edge got back up onto his feet with a barely hiddengrimace of pain, for anyone who didn’t know what to look out for wouldn’t seeit as Edge was really good at hiding when he was in pain.

But Red wasn’tjust anyone, and knew exactly what to look out for to notice just how muchEdge’s old injuries affected him.

Which remindedhim, he still needed to beat that fish bitch into a fucking pulp for causingsaid injuries. He didn’t care that it happened almost 20 years ago, or that itwas all done fair and square or that the bitch was still his baby brothers socalled best friend, any kind of injuries caused to his brother would get paidwith blood.

Edge thenwordlessly reached his hand out towards him, snapping Red out of his suddenthoughts of tearing that fish a new hole. Just as wordlessly he gave him backthe bouquet of roses and Edge then quickly squatted down and placed them ontothe now clean grave.

Without Rednoticing so had Edge also put down a couple of candles which he had lit, how hehad missed that was making his sockets twitch in irritation at himself, he wassupposed to be aware at all times after all, couldn’t risk missing anything nomatter how small said thing was. Edge then stood back up and took a step back,looking at the grave his whole body tense and his expression grim.

Ah, now timefor the part which always ended up making him uncomfy as fuck.

Red seriouslydid not do feely stuff, he did not know how to handle it at all, he glanced atEdge who was standing next to him again with his arms behind his back, lookingas stiff as the stick he at times had up his pelvis.

As ever sincethe incident, from about 10 years ago, even just thinking about it makes Redgrit his teeth in anger as he didn’t even want to think about it properly, hewas still so pissed about it.

But since thatincident Edge had pretty much become incapable of crying at all.

He was unableto cry at his shitty romantic drama’s he so loved anymore, he was unable to crywhen Doomfanger got sick due for age. Unable to cry when she eventually diedand wasn’t able to cry even at her funeral.

Thoughtechnically it was his baby brothers own fault, he had insisted on finding outthe truth, had forced Red’s hand in the name of saving Red from going insane.

He much morewould had preferred going insane than having Edge suffer as he do now, how hisbaby brother now had the highest level out of all monsterkind and now wasforced to live with it. As he did have a reason, several of them actually, whyhe had kept the truth secret from Edge for so many years to start with and thiswas one of them.

But now herethey were, Edge unable to properly grieve and cry over his dead cat, and himselfunable to comfort him because what the fuck were feelings even, all because ofthat whole fucking incident.

Especiallysince Edge wasn’t the only one affected by the incident, Red himself was nowcapable of feeling shit for other people and not just his brother. Which wasweird, as he now was able to feel shit more proper overall and he absolutelyhated it.

As things thatusually didn’t bother or affect him suddenly did, made him stop and think whathis actions and words could do to people at times and fuck did he hate it. Shitwas better when he didn’t care jack shit about anything or anyone except forhis baby brother, but apparently said brother would rather he cared about othersas well and make him a emotional asshole instead.

Which was whyhe didn’t do his usual asshole thing, like cracking a very bad and insensitivejoke, do something seriously rude like tossing the flowers he still held in hishand onto the grave which he originally had just picked up as a joke. He wasincapable of been his usual nonchalant dickish self and it was frustrating asfuck.

So instead, hedecided to do something so out of character of himself that if there was somesort of overwordly being up there, so would it have struck him down on the spotfor heresy.

“gimme yehand.”, he said to Edge, lifting his hand that he didn’t hold the flowers in uptowards his brother.

“Why?”, Edgereplied stiffly, eyeing the offered hand in suspicion which Red couldn’t reallyblame him for, he was known to pull pranks at the worst of times after all.

“jist do et,i’m trynna do a good thin’ here.”, Red grumbled back, feeling uncomfortable asfuck as he shook his hand for Edge to just take it already.

“… Fine, But IfYou Are About To Play A Trick On Me So Am I Never Letting You Come Along HereWith Me Again.”, Edge huffed after a moment of glaring, rolling his eye light’sas he put his hand in Red’s own.

“don’t worry, iwon’t.”, Red reassured him, giving his brother’s hand a squeeze. Fuck this shitwas weird but he had gotten this far, might as well go through with it.

He then steppedforward towards the grave, the two of them already standing close enough to itso he didn’t have to let go of the others hand. He could feel Edge’s confusedeyes dig into his back as he then squatted down, putting the flowers down ontothe grave as nicely as he could.

“sup, furball.”,Red then spoke, wincing slightly at how corny and touchy feely the whole thinghe was doing was, keeping his one eyelight locked onto the grave. “thanks… ferya always been there for me bro when he needed ya… an’ for been jist a reallygood cat.”

He thenpromptly got up and stepped back so he was standing next to his brother again, ifhe had skin he would swear it was crawling with just how fucking uncomfy hisactions just made him.

Red didn’t evenlook at his brother, to see how he reacted, instead he focused his eye onto arandom piece of grass. A minute or so passed before he felt Edge squeeze hishand back, making Red turn his face back up to his brother who was looking downat him.

“That… ThatWas…”, Edge began, clearing his throat loudly before a very soft smile slowlyspread onto his face. “That Was Really Sweet Of You… Thank You.”

If it wasn’tfor the fact Red had promised to chill the fuck out with his habit of taking picturesof Edge, so would he had pulled his phone out faster than his shortcuts as theexpression Edge was wearing was something he so dearly needed a photo of, so hecould look at it whenever he wanted and needed to.

But at the sametime, he felt if he went and did it, he would ruin whatever this moment wasbetween them, so he resisted and instead gave his baby brother a wide grin.

“heh, anytimebaby bro.”, Red murmured instead, before turning his face away to look atDoomfanger’s grave, Edge doing the same.

They stoodthere in silence for awhile, just enjoying the moment, until suddenly Edgesqueezed his hand again before slowly removing his own from Red’s grasp. MakingRed look up at him, resisting the urge to grab it back, but Edge was notlooking at him, his eyes still locked with the grave before them.

“Al-All Right,I Am Done Here For Today, Thanks For Coming With Me.”, Edge said with a slighttremble to his voice, before he quickly turned heel and began to walk away onthe cemetery path. “Come Along Brother, I Need To Get Back To Work Before TwoPM And I Refuse To Be Late.”

“sure thin’.”, Redreplied, but he didn’t move from where Edge left him. As before Edge turnedaway and began to walk, Red could had sworn he saw something shine in hisbrother’s eye socket.

Quickly shakinghis head so to snap out of it, he decided it was most likely just hisimagination and wishful thinking. But he grinned widely and with a step forwardtook a shortcut to catch up to his much faster brother.

62 notes · View notes

royalbloodedbastards · 4 years

Text

chatzy // lucky f*cker

DATE: Friday, April 24, 2020 CHARACTERS: Casey and Alec ABOUT: A friendly (?) five-round competition. Cheating encouraged. Curses, not so much.

Casey didn't bother changing out of his joggers and company tee after work. Teaching children how to walk on a balance beam, Casey barely ever broke a sweat, so the clothes were about as clean as they were when he put them on. Besides, Casey wouldn't be surprised if he and Alec somehow found their way into doing some sort of physical activity. Casey felt the tall weeds smacking against his shins as he neared the lake. "Hey!" he called out to an Alec-shaped person 20 yards away.

Alec spun around, flat rock ready to skip in hand, and threw their hands into the air. "Casey!" they called back. They started to jog over to him, tripped over a stick, pedalled their arms through the air for a few seconds to regain their balance, then continued until they were close enough that they didn't have to yell. "What's up?" they asked, holding their hand out to start their handshake. "Come here often?"

"Not in the daytime!" Casey chirped back. He slapped his hand into Alec's, pulled them in for a bro hug, then tenderly laid a palm on Alec's butt cheek. He rested his head against Alec's, completely still and silent for a few seconds before pulling away. "Glad you could make it!"

Alec copied Casey right down to the seconds of silence, then laughed as they pulled away, handshake completed. "Me too! Here." They pressed the rock into Casey's hand without any other explanation. "No twister and oil, but still gonna be a fun time!"

Casey just blinked down at the rock in his palm. "Are we... Stoning each other?"

Alec ran their fingers through their hair to mess it up. "Kinda one-sided if we were, eh? Let he without sin." They grinned at him. "We can get stoned!"

Casey smiled and clasped a hand over his chest. "A person after my own heart. Please don't tell anybody, but—" Casey pulled his pen out of his pocket. "I took like, three hits before teaching my class today."

Alec mirrored him and pressed a hand to their own chest. "You say like you're only learning that now!" They leaned forward and lowered their voice to a whisper. "I'm going to tell everyone and get you fired."

Casey gasped and smacked the side of Alec's arm. "Don't you dare! Those children are grubs but their parents tip me so well." Casey held up his pen. "They're even sponsoring this afternoon, don't you know?"

"You guys are getting tipped?" Alec grinned at him and plucked the pen out of his fingers. "Thank you, parents! Think if I email them they'll sponsor my bad habits?"

"If you offer to take away their children for two hours, I think they'll sponsor anything," Casey half-joked.

Alec laughed. "I thought you meant like, threaten kidnapping for a second! Blackmail them!"

Casey clutched Alec's arm and guffawed. "That's so evil, oh my gods! How much money do you think they'd offer? Don't answer that, you'll go straight to hell." Casey shook his head and stepped toward the water. "Brilliant mind, Alec Masters, brilliant mind."

Alec shook their head vigorously. "No! I'm not condoning that at all." They winked at him. "Not at all."

Casey closed his eyes, smiled, and shook his head. "You smooth talker." He turned to gesture out toward the lake. "So what's the vibe then? A stoned swim? A baked boat race? Some fazed fishing?" Casey looked back at Alec, grimacing. "Please don't say fishing."

Alec looked out over the lake when Casey gestured to it. "Fishing? Gross, I left that behind when I was fifteen." They started heading back towards the water. "Can we combine them? Make our own game?"

"Yeah!" Casey agreed. "I love a good game. Or—that's not true. I love a good win. The game is secondary." He looked at Alec. "Are you thinking some sort of athletic competition?"

"I love a good win," Alec agreed. "No matter what." They picked up another rock and hucked it into the lake. "We should find a way to balance this shit out, you got crazy time powers and I'm lucky as all fuck." Laughing, they picked up another rock and tried to skip it, getting a solid few bounces before it sunk into the lake. "Some sorta middle ground, eh?"

"Interesting," Casey muttered. "We could play Russian roulette. I doubt you'll get the bullet and then I can just try dodging it."

"Huh. That's is an idea, but if you readily have a gun on you, I gotta go." Alec squinted at him.

Casey grinned. "Do you think I seem like the gun-totin' type?"

"Gimme a second to think on that," Alec joked, bumping their shoulder into Casey's. "I'm gonna go with no?"

"Damn, guess I bought those chaps for nothing then." Casey shook his head. "What about a tourney? Five game spread, half skill, half luck, winner takes all?"

“I’ll still admire you in them.” Alec continued speaking immediately after saying that. “Amazing. Ideas for games or are we making them up?

Casey smiled and nodded at the first part of Alec's sentence before continuing onto the next. "We don't have to make them all up, but maybe the tiebreaker—assuming we'll need one—should be a custom challenge. So we make sure the odds are dead even."

Alec messed their hair up again. “I like it. What’s the winner get?”

"Hm..." Casey looked out onto the water. "The chaps?" he joked.

Alec grinned at him. “I’ve never wanted anything more.” They tossed a rock into the water. “I’m kidding, please don’t actually give me them if I win.”

Casey laughed. "I'd have to actually get them if you did, so I can stand behind that." He shrugged. "Is there something that you want? Maybe the loser can grant some sort of wish or service to the winner."

Alec took a seat on the bank of the lake. “Yeah, sounds good. Winner gets a wish?”

Casey nodded and joined Alec on the ground. "Winner gets a wish," he repeated. "Better if it's not something of monetary value, I think. Might make it more special. Not to say that it can't have a cost associated, but more than just getting you something off Amazon."

Alec made a face. "Yeah, I can't afford anything of– what is it? Monetary value?" They laughed. "I was thinking more of the favour kind."

“Perfect.” Casey leaned back onto his elbows. For a moment he tried to think of something he could get Alec to do if he won, but realized the possibilities were too endless and shelved the thought. “Got any ideas for games?”

"That I could win? So many, you bring any cards?" Alec laughed at the idea someone could leave their room without a pack of cards in their pocket. "I mean, for you it could be dodging shit the other throws."

Casey tipped his head back and forth. "Could be..." Suddenly he clapped and looked at Alec, eyes widened. "Paintball gun. Sixty seconds each, fish in a barrel style. Nail the other player with as many balls as you can."

Alec's eyes widened. "Do you have a paintball gun? I'm so down."

Casey pumped a fist in excitement. "I don't, but I bet you fifty bucks my friend Cameron knows where to get one. Rhetorical bet."

"Awesome!" Alec scooped up another rock. "What do we do for right now?"

Casey shrugged. "We could race? Opposite shore and back? Or lap the lake on foot."

Alec looked down at the condition of their sneakers and judged they’d probably last a lap around the lake. “On foot, ready set go!” they blurted out, already launching themself forward to start running.

"Oh, fuck you!" Casey shouted after Alec, scrambling to get up. With his eyes locked on Alec's back, he took off in a sprint. Suddenly, Casey was very glad he decided not to change.

Alec laughed, losing a couple steps of speed as it took some breath from them. They continued on, jumping over sticks and large rocks as best they could without careening headfirst into anything. “I need the head start!”

As Casey veered off the path and the ground turned into stones and sticks, Casey closed his eyes and flipped a switch in his mind. When his eyes opened again, the earth was gliding below him in slow motion and each of Casey's bounding strides felt like flight. He watched carefully each time his foot hit the floor, aiming for the flattest parts of the earth too give himself the best leverage to spring forward. He could hear Alec droning ahead of him, but was too focused on his footholds to parse what the actual real-time words were. Casey just shouted back, "Cheater!" hoping it would come through even in hyper-time.

Alec glanced over their shoulder when they heard Casey say something and promptly tripped over a root. After windmilling their arms for balance they succeeded in not wiping out, but definitely lost their early lead. “Fuck!” they exclaimed with a laugh. “S’why I needed it!”

Seeing Alec's form crumple, Casey thought for a moment that he was about to witness his friend eat dirt. He snapped out of hyper-time and watched as Alec flailed, caught their balance, and then whiz by as Casey gained the lead. He laughed and yelled out, "I thought lucky kids don't trip!"

“Lucky kids don’t fall,” Alec exclaimed although they still had no idea how their powers worked. Determined not to lose any more ground, they fell silent and tried to grab for Casey in front of them to pull him back.

Once Casey had the lead, he stayed in real time to try to gain ground the "fair" way. That is until he felt Alec clutch onto the back of his shirt, pulling him back. Casey stumbled and found himself running alongside them. "Fucking cheater!" he yelled in a glee-tinged rage. "Unreal!"

Alec grinned over at him, hopping easily over the next root that came up. “Don’t be a sore loser!” they yelled back as they cut to the side, ducking under a tree in a shortcut they had spotted a few seconds earlier. Once they skidded to a halt on the beach a few minutes later, in the lead, they sat down, trying to catch their breath. “Fun!”

One moment, Casey was trailing Alec, fully engaged in hyper-time. Then, suddenly, Alec veered sharply off-course and even in hyper-time, Casey couldn't shift his momentum quickly enough to give chase. Cursing himself under his breath, knowing he had lost the race, he kept running anyway. Sure enough, when he arrived at the beach, Alec had already beaten him there. Casey used what little breath he had left in him to sprint forward and leap onto Alec, knocking them flat down onto the sand. Hovering over them, Casey pointed an accusatory finger. "You dirty, little bastard! I see your game!" His voice thundered, but Casey was smiling cheek to cheek. "You wanna play dirty? I can get dirty!"

Alec grinned up at them from the position they now found themself in and took a second to wonder how long it would be before they stopped finding sand around their cabin. They shoved Casey’s chest and laughed. “Threat or promise?”

"I fucking swear," Casey replied, panting. He pushed off the sand and collapsed onto his back, his chest heaving as he breathed. "You are so in for it," he laughed almost maniacally.

Alec rolled onto their side to face him, still grinning widely. They rested their cheek on their hand. “I’ll believe it when I see it. What’s next?”

Casey turned his head to look at Alec. "Just give me a minute to stop dying," he laughed. Slowly his breath returned to him and Casey propped himself up on the sand to look at Alec. "Alright, fine. Maybe this is a mistake, but since I picked something, you should pick the next thing."

Alec sat up as Casey propped himself up. They clasped their hands together. “I was hoping you’d say that. How biased am I allowed to get?”

"Fuck," Casey hissed, falling back onto the sand. "I already hate the sound of this. What is it?" He asked, afraid to know.

Alec laughed at his reaction. “Not that bad! Since I cheated and all.” They put the word ‘cheated’ in air quotes. “How about diving in the lake and seeing who finds the coolest stuff?”

Casey narrowed his eyes. "Okay, but are you secretly a merperson? Are you gonna try and drown me this time?"

“Yep! I brought you here to drown you!” Alec replied cheerfully. “Wanna check me for gills?”

Casey grinned. "Okay, well you know nothing turns me on like a good threat." He stood up on the sand and shook his legs out. "Is there a time limit?"

“Five minutes? Keep it short and sweet?” Alec started shaking sand out of their hair.

"Five minutes," Casey repeated. "Let's do it!" He kicked his shoes off and started pulling off his socks, making a small pile of them on the sand.

Alec followed suit and pulled their shirt over their head before running into the lake. “Starting now!” They dove down and opened their eyes underwater to search for anything out of place along the bottom of the lake.

"What the fuck!" Casey was still getting undressed when Alec ran off into the water. Quickly whipping his shirt behind him, he started toward the water, hopping out of his joggers as he went. Once he was in, he held his breath and dived deep, paddling toward the floor of the lake. He tried opening his eyes underwater to search for anything, his hands patting at the mud and sand.

Alec noticed a faint glimmer at the bottom of the lake after their third time coming up for air, and swam down to clear enough silt away to figure out what it was. A minute later, they emerged at the shore, holding a tiny chest, maybe half a foot long, over their head in victory. “Got something! Wanna open it?”

Casey was catching his breath on the sand after dropping off his third empty alcohol vessel. He looked over to see Alec emerging from the water, holding something of actual interest. "What the fuck," he sighed in exasperation. "How did you even find that? Yes, obviously. Crack that bad boy open, baby."

“Luck?” Alec chirped, sitting down on a log instead of the ground so all the sand didn’t stick to them while they were soaking wet. It took them a few tries but after slamming the clasp into the log, it sprung open and a collection of coloured glass marbles poured out into the sand. “Aw, fucking sweet. I love marbles.”

"Oh my gods," Casey gasped as the marbles spilled out onto the sand. "You're..." Casey held up a hand to block Alec from his field of vision. "You're a fucking cheater and you know it, with your lucky bullshit, but I can't even hate you because I think you're so cool, and that disgusts me."

Alec laughed and tried to push Casey's hand to the side so they could still see him. "What? How is it cheating if I can't control it?"

"Don't make me explain my logic, Masters." Casey dropped his hand and pointed accusatorially at Alec. "This is a purely emotional argument and I stand by it 100%."

Alec started gathering up the marbles to return them to the chest. "Should we put this back? I don't wanna get cursed." They slid off the log to kneel down. "But okay, okay! Your turn to choose, you can cheat now!"

Casey waved a dismissive hand at the chest. "It's marbles, how bad could the curse be?" Casey sat down in the sand, then quickly clambered up to his knees when he felt granules of sand find his way into his boxers. "Fuck. Okay. Uh..." He closed his eyes, tipping his head side to side. "I don't know. I need to catch my breath for a minute."

"If each marble is cursed it could be really bad," Alec offered as they closed the lid to the chest. They had one green marble still in their hand, and they held it out towards Casey. "A souvenir! Sure, let's take a break. You can brainstorm ways to beat me at a game. Mind map, maybe?"

Casey laughed and leaned away from Alec's hand. "Why would you say that every marble is cursed and then give me one? I'm not taking one unless you take one!"

"I said if they're all cursed!" Alec laughed and tossed the marble at Casey anyway. "I'm not risking bringing pirate treasure into the place I sleep! What if there's ghosts?" They considered the chest anyway. "But they are nice. Maybe I'll leave it here and see if it's disappeared by tomorrow. It could belong to one of the naiads, I don't want to steal it– but what if it doesn't belong to anyone, and we were meant to find it, and I'm spitting in the face of destiny by not keeping it? It's a treasure chest! That's some find, eh?"

"Okay," Casey laughed, standing up on the sand. "Just get this thing away from me because now it's just cursed in my brain. Like hashtag cursed." He walked over and placed the marble beside the chest. "And listen—I wouldn't have to brainstorm ways to beat you if you weren't such a cheater. I'm not over here, confounded by your skill, let's just make that clear."

"Sounds good!" Alec picked up the mini chest, walked to the edge of the water and hucked it back into the lake. They dusted off their hands and headed back over to Casey. "Whoa, okay, there was no cheating going on in that last game. No skill, either, but no cheating!"

"Uh-huh. How am I supposed to know you didn't run over here this morning and chuck that same box of marbles into the lake?" He shrugged. "Seems kinda convenient, don't you think?"

"Sounds like way too much work for me." Alec grinned at him. "Out of character."

Casey smiled. "Fine. I'll concede, it does seem like more effort than I can imagine you putting in." Casey walked over to his joggers and started dusting the sand off his thighs and calves.

Alec picked up the marble that they had left behind originally and threw it into the lake as well. "No loose ends!" They scooped their shirt up to pull it back on, only realizing after it stuck to them that they were still dripping water and now also covered in sand. "Aw, fuck."

Casey laughed seeing Alec's mistake. "Shit. I didn't think this through." He looked at his own clothes that he had strewn about the sand. "I mean... Guess I have no choice. Just gonna be sandy."

"We'll be smooth like rocks after it exfoliates us!" Alec sat down to put their shoes back on, giving up entirely on not turning into a sand dune. "Probably shoulda taken my pants off before jumping in the lake, eh? Too late now. I'm right tempted to just roll around and get as sandy as possible so I can stop avoiding it."

Casey laughed. "Okay, you can do that. I'm gonna wait." Casey spread his legs and held his arms out to the side, facing the sun in the hopes that it would dry him off faster.

Alec considered going through with it, but the sand was less appealing by the second. They stood up and joined Casey facing the sun instead, closing their eyes and focusing on the warmth against their skin as though concentration would aid in the drying process. "How many rounds is this competition out of?"

Casey shrugged, his eyes closed. "I don't know, five? Wait—" he looked over at Alec. "Did those two just count as rounds? Did we already start?"

Alec cocked their head to the side. "Did they not?"

"Well, if I knew they were gonna count I would have tried a little harder!" Casey argued. "Cheated a little more," he added with a smirk.

Alec grinned and shoved his shoulder. “You still got three more chances.”

Casey laughed and shoved Alec's shoulder back with a bit more force. "That's not how majority works, asshole. I only have three more chances if I win the next two rounds. If you win one more time, you already win by default."

Alec leaned when they were shoved but didn’t move their feet. “Easy solution! You just gotta win the next two rounds.”

"Alright, fine. Then I know what game we're gonna play." Casey dropped his arms and instead turned to stand completely straight facing Alec. "Ninja. One on one."

Alec huffed at the game choice, still smiling, and turned to face Casey too. “Times like this I wish I knew how to control my powers!” They shook out their arms. “Remind me the rules?”

Casey stepped away, just in case Alec tried to pull any funny business and start before Casey was ready. "We take turns. Single, one-strike movements, try to hit your opponents limbs. When a limb is hit, it's out. First person to lose all four limbs is the loser. Got it?"

Alec nodded, well aware of how this round was going to turn out but willing to give it a shot anyway. “Got it. You start?”

Casey smiled and in the blink of an eye, time skidded to a near halt. His eyes focused on Alec's leg—the closest limb to where he stood—as Casey aimed a sweeping kick at the back of their heel.

Alec tried to lift their leg up out of the way but started too late, and only succeeded in unbalancing themself as the kick landed. They winced as they hit the ground. “Can I get up or am I disqualified?”

Casey laughed. "You can take a turn to get up or you can try to strike me from the ground."

Alec grinned. “I dunno if I agree with these rules.” They kicked one leg forward anyway to try and hit his shin.

Almost too easy. Casey watched as Alec's leg swung toward them at a glacial pace. As they reached his shin, Casey just picked his foot up and set it back down after they had passed. Then, without waiting more than a second after Alec had reached stasis, Casey brought an arm down to try to take out one of Alec's.

Alec expected the next hit to come immediately, but without knowing where Casey was aiming, they still pulled their arm back too slowly and got caught on the wrist. They tucked their arm behind their back and grinned up at him. “Cheater,” they sing-songed as they lunged forward for one of his legs again.

Casey realized too late that he was overzealous in his previous attempt to take Alec out because it left him prone to a straight shot in the leg. But somehow, Casey managed to spring up as Alec lunged and hop away from their strike, landing in a more upright position this time. "Oh shit! Close call!" With a spin, Casey swiftly turned and went for Alec's remaining leg.

Alec gasped when Casey managed to dodge them and, with their momentum from the lunge forward, there was no chance of dodging Casey’s attack on their other leg. “What! That was such a good dodge!” they exclaimed, momentarily pulled out of game mode by how impressed they were. “That was awesome!” Realizing they still had one arm left, they tried to swing towards Casey’s leg without using any of their other limbs.

Casey watched as Alec came for his leg. He tried to lift his leg up over Alec's arm but underestimated how much force he'd have to apply. Casey felt Alec's hand clip his foot and cried out. "No!" He fell to one knee and assess his opponent. "Thanks. Guess your luck is rubbing off on me," he smiled. Then, after calculating his best move, Casey lunged forward to attack Alec's remaining arm.

Alec tipped backwards in a last ditch attempt to avoid Casey, but they were too slow and ended up both losing and sprawled out on the ground. “I got you once!” they exclaimed as they sat back up, rubbing their heel where Casey had kicked them originally. “That’s more than I expected! Good game.”

"Good game," Casey agreed. He held out his hand to Alec to help them up off the sand. "Your heel's okay?"

“Just bruised,” Alec replied cheerfully, taking Casey’s hand and pulling themself to their feet. “That was a sweet kick. And that dodge! Fucking awesome.”

"Dodges are my game, babyyyy!" Casey tapped Alec's shoulder as they came to a stand. "Can't get beat if you don't take heat."

"That's a fantastic motto! Rhymes and everything, full poet." Alec widened their eyes as a thought came to mind. "Did you kill at dodgeball when you were a kid? Not actual murder. Like, make your opponents cry. Emotional murder."

"Oh yeah, dodgeball was child's play. Way too fucking easy, it was almost sad," Casey mourned. "But also actual murder."

Alec laughed. "Dodgeball is child's play, that's kinda the point, eh? I can't think of it without getting flashbacks to grade 7 gym. A fuckin' time."

"Maybe we should make it adult's play," Casey suggested. "Could be our next round?"

"Adult's play," Alec repeated with a laugh. "Sounds like a sex shop. For sure, let's do it!"

Casey chuckled at the observation. "Great. Then we should change venues. And clothes, I guess, unless you wanna play wet."

“Guess we need a sorta ball, eh? Or more than one.” Alec sighed and tipped forward so they were leaning against Casey, chest to chest. “Where do you even get those?”

Casey smirked. "You trying to see my balls? Is that what this is all about?"

Alec laughed and wrapped their arms around Casey, resting their chin on his shoulder. “My Masters plan.”

Casey snorted, returning Alec's embrace. "You know, for a vegan, you're so fucking cheesy."

“I’m gonna choose to take that as a compliment!” Alec swayed side to side. “Are we gonna find a ball or just chuck rocks at each other?”

Casey lowered his arms to Alec's waist so they could slow dance more properly. "We could chuck rocks, but it'll suck a lot more for you when I peg you in the face with one."

Alec put their hands on Casey's shoulders and leaned back enough to grin at him as they followed his lead. "I can try and find the cursed marbles again, dive back into the lake."

Casey laughed as they swayed gently. "Why would they be cursed? If somebody was going to bury a treasure chest and lay a curse on whoever found it, do you really think they'd just fill it with marbles?"

"One hundred percent! Why wouldn't you fill it with marbles? What else is there to put?"

"I don't know, bones? Gold? Something more exciting?" Casey started turning them in circles as he spoke. "If I got cursed with a chest full of marbles, I literally would not tell anybody. That would be the lamest curse. I would rather let it kill me."

Alec snickered. "Maybe that's why. The true curse is the embarrassment that comes with."

Casey sighed longingly, looking into their eyes. "You just get me."

Pretending to swoon, Alec leant against Casey again. "Is the third challenge seducing me?"

Casey smirked. "Depends. Is it working?"

"Like a charm." Alec pressed their cheek into his shoulder. "But that doesn't mean you win."

"Are you sure?" Casey tipped his head to rest on Alec's. "'Cause I'm already holding a prize, baby."

"Oh my god," Alec whined under their breath. "You're so smooth, what the fuck."

"You've been hit by—" Casey thrust his hips to one side. "You've been struck by—" Then to the other side. "A smooth criminal."

Now, Alec was holding onto Casey for balance as they laughed, moving with him. "And he's talented too! Triple threat!"

Casey laughed. "Gotta have those smooth karaoke skills." He gasped. "Oh shit, we should have a karaoke party."

Alec gasped in unison. "We should– fuck! Yeah! I love karaoke." They laughed. "That can be our tiebreaker if you win the next round!"

Casey exhaled a sigh of bliss. "I am so down for that. How do we determine who wins? Won't we need an unbiased third party?"

“Aw, man, yeah. It’d be better with like, music too.” Alec took one of Casey’s hands and tried to spin him. “And karaoke’s meant to be bad! Trying to be good at karaoke goes against the laws of the universe.”

Casey lifted his arm up and spun through it. "Mm, those are some straight truths." Once he spun around, he lifted their hands to get Alec to do the same. "Okay, whether or not it's part of the game, let's make this happen for us because now I have the idea and my soul will never be at rest until we do."

Alec spun too and let go of Casey’s hands to flop back onto the ground now that they deemed themself dry enough. “We gotta! Can’t have you sticking around to haunt me ‘cause we failed to make karaoke happen.” Alec grinned up at him. “I bet we can set it up in the rec room, make it a whole thing.”

Casey clapped in excitement. "Yes! Oh my gods, are you friends with Blue? She would eat. This. Up." Casey clapped again on each word for emphasis. He joined Alec, siting on the ground beside his sweats. "Wow, look at us. Party planning committee. Who woulda thought? Not me."

Alec leaned against Casey as soon as he was seated next to them. “We got a lotta friends in common!” They laughed and twisted to flop over Casey’s lap, looking up at him. “I’m more the ideas guy than the planner. Are you good at actually getting stuff like this to happen? ‘Cause we can always rope Ime in, they’re right organized.”

Casey wove his fingers through Alec's hair and scratched their chin with his other hand. "Yeah! I organize Asian Dinner Club and I'm also doing a thing with Akira. A party's a straight shot, no problem. But definitely ask Ime anyway because they're just a legend and I would like them to be there."

Alec closed their eyes, their expression drifting from excited to content. "Aw, sweet, double the planning, half the work. Ime'll be down for karaoke night, they love watching people get embarrassing. Whatcha planning with Akira? They're so intense. Like, in a hot way."

Casey groaned. "Oh my gods, don't even get me started. Like... Oof." Casey shook his head. "We're planning a fight night. I think right now it's gonna be an elimination-style bracket, but we haven't really worked out the safety details of how to make sure people don't die." Casey squeezed Alec's cheeks together to push their lips into a pucker. "Aw. You're so cute."

“I’m guessing you agree,” Alec laughed. “But that sounds cool! I like the rhyme. Fight night.” They moved their mouth like a fish a couple times as Casey pinched their face, then snickered and lifted a hand to push his face away. “I’m cuter when my face is normal!”

Casey laughed and dropped his hand by his side. "Everybody is cuter as a fish," he disagreed. Casey scooped up a bit of dry sand and began sprinkling on Alec's chest. "Do you think we should have a theme? Or do you think 'karaoke night' is the theme?"

“There’s gotta be a theme. Pyjamas? Oh man, what about like, borrowed clothes, you can only wear shit you take from your friends. Vibe swap.” Alec traced a fingertip along Casey’s collarbone.

"Oh, cute!" Casey exclaimed. He scooped up some more sand and continued sprinkling it over Alec's chest. "Wow, that's a great idea. Huh... Except if we invite Akira, I have no idea what they look like with a shirt on," he snorted.

“They can borrow one of my cropped shirts,” Alec laughed, starting to trace spirals into the sand on their chest. “Maybe that’s close enough?”

Casey laughed. "Hot. I might ask you for one of those too." Casey scooped up another handful of sand and sprinkled it on their stomach this time to avoid ruining their pattern. Then suddenly, he gasped. "Oh my gods, you can wear my sporty spice outfit. Loved that text, by the way."

“We can swap outfits from that party! But you can wear real shorts.” Alec beamed. “I forgot about that text until I saw it again the next morning, I was some wasted. But I remember the outfit! It’s stuck in my brain. In a good way.”

"It better be," Casey grinned. "That was easily, like, top five hottest things I've worn." Casey started to scoop up more sand, then added, "Oh, but you have the wear the little white shorts. The outfit is a set. The cleats are optional," Casey joked with a wink.

“I’d never leave them out! The shorts were the best part!” Alec continued the spiraling pattern down to their stomach. “I dunno if your cleats would fit, which is a national tragedy. An international tragedy.” With a dramatic sigh, they finished their pattern and started tracing spirals along Casey’s chest. “I have the perfect pair of shorts I can lend you.”

Casey laughed and shook his head at Alec's sensationalism. Tracing their pattern, Casey spiraled his finger up Alec's torso. "Ooh, describe them to me. Paint me a picture."

Alec tapped their fingers above Casey’s heart in a moment of thought. “Nope!” they decided, grinning at him and dragging their fingers across his chest again. “It’ll be a surprise.”

Casey's jaw dropped in offense for a moment before closing back into a smirk. "Should I..." He narrowed his eyes in contemplation before shaking his head and laughing. "Fine."

“Should you what?” Alec chirped, lifting their hand from his chest to card their fingers through his hair. “You’ll like them, they’ll be funny with the shirt I wore to the party. Maybe I should offer to lend everyone my clothes for the party and start an army of short shirts.” They sighed. “But I only have three. I should buy more. But money.”

Casey shook his head. "Nothing. I thought I would surprise you back but the idea I came up with feels like an uneven tradeoff. Too inappropes." Casey put his finger on Alec's chest and resumed tracing it along the patterns on their chest. "But we could make some of my old t-shirts into crop tops. If you don't mind me stealing your look."

“Too innapropes?” Alec threw a look of clearly exaggerated offense at him. “That sounds even more fun.” They closed their eyes again. “That can be a different themed party, where everyone gets sloshed. ‘Short shirts and shoot shots’.”

Casey laughed. "It would probably be too intense for this kind of party, so maybe we'll just save that in our little back pocket for later. But yes—" Casey tapped on Alec's solar plexus. "Fucking love the sound of that. Short shirts and shoot shots. I want both of those things."

“Aw, I hate mysteries.” Alec drummed their fingers on one of Casey’s shoulders. “Imagine we call the party that and people show up ready to get wasted, but it’s really an amateur basketball league?”

Casey's eyes widened and he let out a laugh. "Wow! Oddly enough, that's exactly the kind of party the surprise would be perfect for." Casey shook his head and looked off into the distance. "Has anybody ever told you that you have a beautiful mind, Alec Masters? Beautiful, mystical, and chaotic."

“You’re killing me,” Alec whined, pressing the back of their hand to their forehead. Before they could continue complaining, their momentary frustration was erased by compliments. “Other than you, right now? Sure gotten the chaotic part a lot!” They started brushing the sand off of their chest. “My mind thanks you.”

Casey grinned. "Your mind is so welcome." Casey leaned back onto his hand so Alec could dust themself off.

Alec sat up as Casey leaned back and brushed the remaining sand off. They climbed into his lap, kneeling on either side of his legs, and rested their arms on his shoulder with a smirk. “Keep the compliments coming, it’s distracting me from how much I want to know the mystery.”

Casey hummed as Alec climbed up into his lap. He slid his hands up to Alec's waist and smiled up at them. "Wow, if it gets you on my lap, then I'll compliment you all day long, baby."

Alec laughed and started running their fingers through his hair again. “Aw c’mon, it wouldn’t even take that much. Not that I’m turning them down.” They traced the fingers of their other hand along where his neck met his shoulder.

Casey laughed and shook his head. "Okay, you say that, but I feel like we've said this to each other before and nothing has happened, so clearly it takes a little more than compliments."

Alec scanned his face for a moment then gave a lopsided grin and ducked their head to press a kiss to the side of his neck, an inch below his jaw. “And what do you want to happen?”

Casey's smirk grew into a full-on smile upon feeling Alec's lips against his neck. He wrapped his arms around Alec's waist and replied, "This." Then, Casey leaned back onto the sand, pulling Alec down with him so they straddled his hips.

Alec moved with him easily and leaned over Casey, one hand on his shoulder pressing him into the sand. “Smooth,” they commented, voice lower though they were still smiling, and leaned down to kiss him.

Casey just hummed back happily and slid one hand up to thread through Alec's hair as they kissed.

Alec broke the kiss for a second to move to lean on their elbows, half to get closer and half so their hand was free to tug Casey's head back enough that they could kiss along the underside of his jaw. They grinned against his skin. "Does this count as the fourth game?"

Casey tipped his head back to relinquish his jaw to Alec. He traced his fingers down their neck and along their spine. "Mm, depends," Casey teased. "How do I win?"

Alec hummed in thought as they continued their trail of kisses along Casey's jaw and down his neck. They released his hair and brushed their thumb along the other side of his jaw. "Not a clue."

When his fingers couldn't crawl any lower, Casey began sliding them across the rivers of Alec's ribs. "We'll call it a win-win."

Alec considered this as they dragged their teeth over his pulse. They pressed a final kiss to his skin, then sat up abruptly and grinned down at him. "I thought you were competitive.”

Casey shrugged, his hands falling to Alec's legs as they sat up. "There's no winners in love and war, right?"

Alec glanced idly around the lake. "Fair point. Wanna go back to my cabin?"

Casey smirked. "Would it make me sound too eager if I said I'd race you?"

With a laugh, Alec rolled off Casey and climbed to their feet. "Game four, race to my cabin?"

Casey reached over to grab his joggers and started pulling them back on. "If that's game four, I can't wait to see what game five is."

Alec waited for him instead of launching into a head-start this time around. "Assuming you're gonna win this race?"

Casey pulled his shoes back on, but just balled up his socks in his pockets and tucked his shirt into his waistband. "I don't know, are you gonna push me?"

Alec grinned at him. “Only if you’re in the lead.”

Casey shook his head, grinning. "Fucking ridiculous." He rose to his feet. "Alright," he announced, starting a slow jog. "Let's do this."

Alec immediately took off towards their cabin at full speed.

Casey waited until Alec was ahead of him to start picking up speed. With any luck, Alec would cramp up or run out of breath by the time they got to the cabin. Then again, Casey wasn't the lucky one. Casey slowly built up to a run, keeping at least two meters to the right of where Alec was running in case they decided to get tricky again.

Alec managed to keep up their pace until the cabin was only a minute or so away, at which point they slowed to check behind them as to where Casey was in comparison.

Casey had kept pace with Alec the entire way there. Right when Alec turned their head, Casey bounded forward to run right at their side. "Feel like cheating?" Casey taunted.

Alec huffed a laugh and tried to pick up speed again. “More with every second!”

Casey matched Alec's pace, running ahead along with them. "Sorry I have to do this! Casey prefaced before shoving Alec to the side and sprinting even faster.

Alec yelped and somehow managed to grapevine their way into keeping their footing. They found an extra burst of energy from the adrenaline, running faster to try and catch up. “Fuck off!” If they weren’t so focused, they’d be grinning, but it was still clear they were amused by the tone in their voice.

In one last mad dash, Casey burst into a sprint toward the cabin. Casey extended his hand out toward the door. As soon as they connected, he yelled, "Safe!"

Alec skidded to a stop before the door and slumped against it. “Close,” they answered, catching their breath. “Really close.”

Casey turned around to lean against the door frame. "GG." He smiled and extended a hand toward Alec. "Ready for round five?"

Alec slapped him a high five, then realized what he probably meant and grabbed his hand, tugging him inside after them. “Tiebreaker.”

Casey followed them inside, kicking the door shut behind them. "First to bust is the loser."

“Wasn’t a given?” Alec paused to lock the door behind them then reached forward to pull Casey closer.

Casey stepped on the heels of his shoes to swiftly pull his feet out as he moved toward Alec. "No cheating."

Alec turned once Casey was close enough to press him against the door. “No promises.”

Casey hummed as his back hit the wood. His eyes flickered over to the various game tables. "You ever get fucked on one of those?"

“More times I can count.” Alec slid their hands over his chest to his hips. “You interested?”

Casey feigned a sigh. "Well, I don't wanna be contrived." Casey's hands mirrored Alec's, grabbing their hips and pulling them in. "But I can't say I'm not interested."

Alec lifted one hand to touch his jaw as they leaned into him when pulled. They moved to speak into his ear. “You wanna get fucked on one?”

"Interesting," Casey replied, in a tone of voice that sounded genuinely interested. "Porque no los dos?"

Alec laughed and kissed him briefly. “Take turns?”

"Fuck yeah," Casey replied with vigor before kissing them again.

Alec pulled the tucked up shirt out of Casey's waistband and tossed it to the side, pulling his lower lip between their teeth as they pressed against him. "Yeah?"

Not wanting to break their kiss, Casey just responding by gripping Alec's thighs and hoisting them up into a carry. He moved across the cabin to set Alec down on a card table. "Hope this thing is strong," he mumbled against Alec's lips.

Alec exhaled a short laugh against Casey's lips but closed the distance again as soon as possible. "S'not a machine," they teased as they were lowered to the table. "Breaking promises."

"We can make the rounds," Casey chuckled as he moved to trace kisses along Alec's jaw.

Alec tilted their head back and grinned up at their ceiling. "Then we better get started."

#mus.casey #rel.casey&alec #frm.chatzy

3 notes · View notes

charlievveasley · 4 years

Text

Halloween | Severus Snape

Characters: Severus Snape, Minerva McGonagall, Harry Potter Ships: None Verse: Post War Word Count: 2189

written for @harrypotterbingo

Insufferable. In a word, Halloween was insufferable. Everyone pretending to be something they are not - and all the typical, overly large witch’s hats made him want to be sick. Not to mention the disgusting display of gluttony shown by kids and adults alike as they ate treat after treat - pies, candies, cookies, caramel apples, cakes - you name it, and he was certain they had stuffed it into their mouths. Just watching was going to give him a stomach ache, but he had no choice in the matter. The Headmistress had been clear - he was to be there, and he was to be there for the entire celebration. McGonagall had not been a fan, apparently, of his disappearing act last year for the blasted occasion, and had definitely not believed for an instant that he had suddenly fallen ill. So there he had sat, scowl firmly in place and his arms crossed as he waited for the food to appear before him. It had taken an inordinately long amount of time, and he wasn’t entirely uncertain that it hadn’t been some petty deed on the headmistress’ part. She had never liked him, he was sure of it.

So when they had finally cleared not only the dessert but the blasted plastic muggle pumpkin buckets filled with every sort of magical and non-magical candy imaginable (an apparently new and equally annoying tradition), he had been the first out of his seat. With a typical flurry of black robes, he was striding off the dias where the teachers sat and through the back door, taking a shortcut behind a tapestry to get to a spiral staircase that would take him up six floors to his rooms - which were not, as most believed, in the dungeons. A convenient rumour he sometimes helped to further along, if he were being honest.

Severus glanced down the hall just for good measure before placing his palm against the small snake curled around the doorknob, and the door melted away before him, only reappearing once he was inside. He breathed a sigh of relief, unfastening his outer cloak and tossing it over the back of his couch as he rubbed at the back of his neck. Retrieving his oldest bottle of scotch from the hidden cabinet in his bookshelf, he paired it with a back issue of Potions Monthly and sat, but he still felt wrong. It was like he could still hear the little gremlins laughing and causing trouble, even though his quarters were deathly silent. With a glower, he shook his head and readjusted himself on the couch, taking another healthy sip of his drink before going back to his reading. He reread the same sentence four times before closing the damn thing and throwing it across the room where it landed with a rather unsatisfying thump on the carpet in front of the fireplace. His eyes stayed on the back cover for a minute before flicking up to the fireplace, and then the mantle.

The thought wasn’t even fully formed before he was on his feet, and without a backward glance, he had taken quick strides across the room and stood before the fireplace. Grabbing the small mortar and pestle from the mantle, he tossed half back onto the shelf, favouring the small pot of floo powder. It was against the rules, but rules be damned. He had to get out of there. His fingers dropped the fine powder into the fire as if of their own accord, his lips formed the words, his feet brought himself forward and then he was suddenly, blissfully, alone.

Stepping gracefully from the fireplace at Spinner’s End, he breathed a sigh of relief. Surely, this would be the one place no one would look for him. He had even orchestrated a fake sale years ago to ensure he always had one place where he could entirely disappear. He hadn’t used it until now - he much preferred the small flat in the south of France, but Severus couldn’t deny the peace he felt being in his childhood home at this very moment, knowing he had made a much-needed escape - a feeling he wasn’t sure had ever come from the place before.

Grabbing another book - purely a guilty pleasure this time, and completely uneducational - he settled again in his favorite chair, the silence here seeming somehow more absolute. He was utterly at peace, already having read a full chapter when the doorbell rang. “The light is off.” He shouted, grumbling under his breath about muggles and their silly traditions. Growing up in this house, in this muggle neighbourhood, and particularly as Lily’s friend, he knew all about trick-or-treating and the unspoken rules that came with it. No lights - no candy, so no trick-or-treaters. So who was at his door - and more importantly, why? Severus ignored it, shaking himself with a light sigh and settling back in. They’d go away when he didn’t answer.

But then the bell rang again. This was why wizards didn’t even install the damn things. He ignored it.

He grumbled, readjusting yet again as he tried to shake off his annoyance. He wouldn’t let a few muggle imbeciles ruin his night. He would outwait them, they would leave, and he would have his peaceful night back.

But as the doorbell rang again, he realized he was wrong. He closed his book and slammed it down onto the small end table next to him, standing and making his way toward the front door with quick strides. But upon flinging it open, he could only simply stare in shock.

“Potter?” He questioned, the name falling off his lips before he’d even decided to say anything. It was uncharacteristically without venom, the pure surprise enough to render him near speechless. It only lasted a moment, though, before he was angry. Without a word, he slammed the door in his face and stood on the other side, fuming. He turned finally, shaking his head in disdain and returning to his chair.

But within a few moments, the bell rang again. He looked up sharply, in slight disbelief, even as it rang for a second time. He was across the room in an instant, nearly ripping the door off its hinges. "Potter!" He barked, fists clenching as he tried to fight the urge to reach out and wring the boy's neck. This time, he was carrying what looked to be an old pillowcase, holding it open before him in a silent question. How did he even know where he lived? It was impossible. "Stay away from me, you insolent brat."

He slammed the door closed again, but this time, he never even made it to his chair before there was a knock on the wood. He took a deep breath, teeth clenching, trying to remind himself that he was too old to weather a stint in Azkaban. But when he opened it, his insults died on his lips and his brow furrowed. It was still Potter, but this time he had one of those horrid plastic pumpkins - a green one, half full of candy. "Take your cute little tricks somewhere else, boy, before I blast you into next week." He growled, shaking his head and turning around.

But before the door even closed, the boy spoke. "Sir?"

Severus whirled, bearing down on his former student, but then stopped. The pumpkin was gone, now replaced with a ridiculous plastic skull hanging from a flimsy plastic strap. But that wasn't what had caught his attention - not really. Transfiguring from one to the other would be simple enough even for Potter, who, as much as Severus hated to admit, was a fairly adept wizard. But his glasses were wrong - they were plastic, not metal, and more than that, his eyes weren't quite the right shade. He swallowed, hating himself for noticing, and took a step back. Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t sounded quite right, either. He was confused, a feeling he wasn't familiar or comfortable with. He closed the door, more gently this time, but still didn't move. He was certain this wasn't over, and within a few seconds, he was proven right. Opening it slowly, he took in the person on his doorstep. They looked like Harry Potter, but he was certain now that it wasn't, and as his eyes took in the all too familiar features, he realized this one's nose was far more narrow and had too many freckles.

So someone was toying with him - but who? He found he didn't much care, having figured it out, he was now over it, but before he could slam the door again, another Harry showed up - one with a slightly lopsided smile. And then there were numerous Potters, and his eyes bounced back and forth over all of them - one too tall, one with hair that was a touch too light, one had no glasses, and yet another with a crooked scar. "Whoever you are, I will hex all of you if you ring my bell again." He growled, slamming the door and marching back into his home, now too worked up to even attempt to get back to his book. Instead, he went to the kitchen to fix himself some chamomile tea. Severus could at least find joy in something tonight, surely. Wordlessly warming his kettle, he leaned against the counter as his tea steeped. He heaved a weary sigh, unsure what he had done to deserve a fate such as this. Was it really so much to ask to be left to his own solitary existence? The war was over, he wasn't bothering anyone, surely no one needed anything from him anymore. All he wanted to do was brew, read, and enjoy a good bottle of scotch now and again.

Bringing his cup to his lips, he closed his eyes as the steam washed over his features, the mere scent calming him already. One sip, however, was all he got to enjoy before the bell rang once more and the glass shattered beneath his grip. He didn’t bother to clean it up, broken pieces of ceramic crunching beneath his shoes as he marched back to the front door.

The hex was ready and off his lips as soon as he had pulled the door open, the shouted word hanging in the air as he stared at the new person on his doorstep. Minerva McGonagall, who had, thankfully, simply brushed the spell aside. They stood in silence for a moment before she finally broke it and cleared her throat. “Honestly, Severus.” He wasn’t a man who often felt shame, but right then, on his porch, looking his headmistress in the eye after trying to hex her off his stoop - he wanted to curl into his robes and never face another day on this earth.

“Minerva.” He answered coolly, as if his night had been just like any other. There was another - shorter - tense silence between them before she spoke again, although he was fairly certain he caught the ghost of a smile pulling at her lips.

“You will be back in the castle in ten minutes. You know the rules, and I expect you to follow them.” She stiffened her spine, straightening her outer robes as she prepared to leave once more. “I expect this sort of behaviour from my Gryffindors - not you.” And with that, she was gone. Merlin, she knew how to hit him where it hurt. But she was right. He should have known this would never have worked - not with McGonagall in charge of the school. Where Albus may have let it slide time and again, she ruled with an iron fist.

With his weariest sigh yet, he apparated in her wake, forgoing the Floo Powder and deciding to enjoy what little solitude he could garner from a walk back to the castle and up to his rooms - after all, it was after curfew. He was only likely to run into Professors, and that, he thought, he could handle.

The night was clear and brisk, and he actually felt rather hopeful as he made it from Hogsmeade to the gates, across the grounds and through the foyer without incident - not even running into an owl or a cat, let alone a person. Maybe the night really was on his side, finally. Maybe his hope for a quiet night with a book and a nightcap wasn’t so far out of his reach after all.

Severus took the steps two at a time, almost humming to himself as he drew nearer and nearer to his rooms, licking his lips in anticipation. But as he turned the corner to the small hallway that housed the door, his good mood evaporated at the sight of dark hair and bright eyes coming toward him. Potter. But he couldn’t yell, or take house points, or any of his usual tricks since the man was allowed to be here now. He was a Professor, despite Severus’ many vocal misgivings.

“Good evening, sir.” Harry greeted with a smile, tipping his head in the older man’s direction.

“Sod off, Potter.” Came the curt, malicious reply, leaving a somewhat shell-shocked defence professor in his wake as he stomped by, all the light-hearted spring in his step instantly gone. “Fucking Halloween.”

#harry potter #severus snape #fanfiction #halloween #harry potter bingo

4 notes · View notes

joeybelle · 4 years

Text

Starlight - Chapter 26

Cassian Andor x Original female character

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Strong language, Violence

Size: 7300

The war room was incredibly busy and the air was heavy with tension. She wasn’t used to seeing it filled to the brim with people staring at unfamiliar holo-maps and blinking lights on screens, but she knew the concerned looks on their faces really well. The already intimate feeling of dread had accentuated and it seemed that she wasn’t the only one feeling it.

“It’s been brought to our attention that you know Galen Erso personally,” Mon Mothma said, looking just as poised as ever. “Could you tell us more about that?”

Cora had to make an effort to pry her eyes from one of the blinking screens. Her throat felt incredibly dry. “Well, I assume you know the circumstances in which I met him.” Mon Mothma nodded and Cora had to swallow the panic. If Cassian had seen fit to tell them about that, then something really bad must have happened. “Then you probably know everything already.”

She could see Draven fidgeting uncomfortably in the corner of her eye, but he kept silent. She wondered if Cassian had been able to somehow stop him from intervening; or was it all Mothma? Speaking of Cassian, where was he?

“What do you know about what he was working on? What do you remember?”

Cora frowned, making an effort to remember. “Some sort of new fighter ships, but I don’t know much about them.” It felt odd going back to being interrogated, although she could feel the atmosphere was nowhere as hostile as it used to be. “As you might have guessed, they didn’t really talk openly about this in front of a kid.”

“But you’ve looked at the files,” Draven chimed in, apparently unable to keep his mouth shut. “You must have seen something.”

She returned his glare. “The details of whatever the Empire was doing weren’t really my priority back then. You keep forgetting I’m a doctor, not a spy.” He shut his mouth and crossed his arms over his chest, his face going back to looking moderately annoyed.

“Do you think this was the only project he was working on at that time?” Mothma asked, a lot calmer than Draven had been.

The frown on Cora’s face deepened, but it was of little use. “No… I don’t think it was the only thing he was working on.” She closed her eyes, trying hard to remember the things that had happened such a long time ago. She’d never thought that they would ever become relevant. “I remember pretty well when they first came to Corinthia, because it was so unexpected to have another family living with us. It was a big deal for us too, because Krennic was going to coordinate this thing. He called this project my mother was part of his ‘pet project’ and that he was working with Galen Erso on something else. Something about Erso doing this as a personal favour… or something.” It wasn’t very convincing, but her brain was just patching together broken memory fragments. “He was regarded as a very good engineer as far as I know. I guess they could have had him working on more than one project at a time.”

“Did anyone ever talk about what this other project was in your presence, or might you have overheard something?”

“Not that I can recall.”

“Would you tell us, even if you did?” Draven mumbled and Cora could swear she saw him roll his eyes.

“If you ask nicely,” she spat back, but a raised hand from Mon Mothma silenced them both.

“You mentioned they lived on Corinthia?” She took back the reins of the questioning and steered it into less hostile territory. “For how long?”

“Six months to a year? I don’t really remember.”

“That’s a huge margin,” Draven concluded.

“I was a kid.”

Mothma ignored the interruption and continued as if nothing had happened. “So you knew them well.”

“His wife more than him. She was really motherly. I remember liking her a lot.” However, she couldn’t remember her name.

“And you knew his daughter too. Jyn Erso.” Cora nodded. “Were you two close?”

“As close as the only two kids on a warship can get.” Cora shrugged. “Yes, I guess you can say we were pretty close.”

“Did you ever wonder what happened to her or try to reconnect after your mother’s death?”

“No. I didn’t really have time to care about others that much.” She was pretty sure it sounded a lot more janded than she intended.

“Do you know Saw Gerrera?” Draven asked, looking a little impatient.

“No, who is he?”

“He used to be part of the Alliance,” Mothma explained, and for the first time Cora noticed a shadow pass over her features. “However, his views are a lot more extreme than ours, so he decided a long time ago to follow a different path. He’s caused us a lot of trouble over the years.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know him.”

Draven snorted. “Didn’t they bother to at least teach you the names of those you were meant to kill?”

The level of annoyance was rising, but the anti-hangover medication seemed to have the secondary effect of mellowing her out, so what came out of her mouth sounded surprisingly detached. “I seem to keep having to repeat myself, General: even when I worked for the Empire, I was still a doctor. We’re not the ones doing the killing.” She turned her head to look at Mothma. “How is any of this relevant and what’s it got to do with me?”

“We know that Galen Erso left the Empire at some point and went into hiding. Sometimes after your mother’s accident, we assume. He did it with the help of Saw Gerrera,” Mothma explained. “After his wife was killed, he was forced…”

“We don’t know that,” Draven interrupted.

“He returned to his former duties within the Empire.” Mothma shot him an icy glare. “His daughter wasn’t captured, but was rescued and raised by Saw Gerrera. He trained her like one of his fighters. She fell off the radar for a while, but we managed to track her down.”

Cora nodded. She had to admit that she hadn’t thought about Jyn in years, and even when she did it was just a passing thought. She hoped she was happy though. From what she remembered, Jyn was a small and soft child, always afraid of Cora’s shortcuts though the darkness of the ventilation system. She would have never guessed that she could ever be trained to become a fighter, but time and circumstances change people. She was a prime example.

“Do you think it’s possible that she’d remember you?”

Cora had to once again pry her eyes from one of the blinking screens at the edge of her field of vision. “Perhaps? She was quite young and I don’t think I’ve made such a big impression, but she might remember me.”

Mothma nodded, but her expression was unreadable, besides her usual motherly vibe. “Would you be willing to talk to her?”

“Are you trying to recruit her?”

“It’s a little more complicated than that.” Cora waited for her to elaborate, but it seemed no further explanation was coming.

“And classified?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. She was really tired of being treated differently from everybody else. Although she was now one of them, she could still feel a cloud of suspicion looming over her head.

“Well, no…”

“Yes!” Draven interjected, taking a step forward. “All you have to do is talk to her, and get her to be a little more… cooperative.”

“I would really love to know what I’m getting myself into, General,” Cora said through gritted teeth. “With all due respect.”

“There’s been talk of a pilot,” Mon Mothma said, ignoring Draven’s protests. “An imperial cargo pilot has defected. He’s supposed to be carrying some news from Galen Erso for Saw Gerrera, regarding one of the projects he’s been working on. We’ve tried intercepting him, but he seems to have reached Gerrera already.”

“I see.” And there it was again, the sinking feeling that something really bad was going to happen really soon. Now Cora was convinced it wasn’t just an empty feeling. Once again, she was afraid. “So that’s where you’ve sent Cassian to,” she said out loud, before she realized that she had no good excuse for knowing that Cassian had already been shipped. Luckily, she was probably too livid to be able to blush in embarrassment.

“Yes,” Mothma replied, appearing to completely ignore Cora’s confession. “And as you might have guessed,” she sighed, “Saw Gerrera isn’t very keen on talking to us anymore, but we would like to know what sort of information the Pilot might be carrying.”

“So you need Jyn to talk to Saw Gerrera for you.”

“Correct.”

“And you need me to talk to her because… she might not be so keen on talking to you either?”

Mon Mothma nodded. “We think seeing a familiar face might make her a bit more willing to cooperate. Being surrounded by strangers might be a little intimidating. We wouldn’t want her to think we’re hostile towards her in any way.”

They hadn't been so thoughtful with her. Cora grimaced and wondered if Mon Mothma didn’t sense the irony in her own words or if she just ignored it. However, by the not so subtle roll of eyes from General Draven, Cora assumed that they were instead intended for the General’s ears. A warning, perhaps.

“Alright,” Cora agreed. “I’ll talk to her, but don’t expect much. I’m not sure she remembers me, or if my presence here can change anything really.” But she wanted to be there anyway, just in case Draven decided to bark at her like a rabid dog. She still remembered with dread how they treated her when she was first brought before them.

“Thank you,” Mothma said, with a slight tilt of her head. “We appreciate your help.”

“Yeah,” Cora mumbled. “Glad to be of use. Let me know when you need me. Anything else?”

“No, thank you. You may get back.” The smile on her face was probably the friendliest Cora had ever gotten from the poised senator and that gave her a little hope that at least she didn’t consider her a traitor anymore. She smiled and got up to leave.

“So you said found Jyn? How’s she doing?” Cora asked before exiting the room.

“We found her in an imperial labour camp,” Mothma said, following her to the door. “Not doing great I suppose.”

“Neither are we.”

“How so?”

“I don’t really know,” Cora said, embarrassed. She hadn't meant to say that out loud. “I just got this feeling that something bad’s about to happen.”

“You might be right,” she said, her face suddenly turning somber. She followed her outside of the war room, letting the blast doors close behind them. “There’s been this rumour that the project Galen Erso was working on is in fact a weapon,” she said, keeping her voice down so the passersby couldn’t hear. “A planet killer, someone called it.”

Cora froze in place, her eyes widening slightly as she turned her head to look at the Senator. The woman’s expression was just as unreadable as ever, but it had lost its usual warmth.

“Do we stand a chance against it? If the rumour’s real, I mean.”

“Of course,” she replied, and her face broke into a reserved smile. “We have to.”

Cora nodded, but she was sure her face reflected every bit of her inner turmoil. She really hoped that whomever spread that rumour had been wrong, otherwise she wasn’t sure what a handful of rebels could do against it. “I’ll be around, if you need me,” she let the Senator know, excusing herself. She needed a stiff drink.

“We’ll call for you. But until we know anything for sure,” Mon Mothma added before returning to the War Room, “there’s no need to cause any unnecessary panic.”

“Yeah, of course.”

Cora wasn’t sure how she managed to reach the med bay downstairs, for the world was a bit of a blur. It didn’t help that the shock had undone whatever effect the hangover medication had on her, and now her stomach was protesting loudly, threatening to expel its contents right then and there. She had to take a moment to regain her composure before she could move on to look for her friend.

“Are you feeling okay?” Lewella asked, concern pretty visible on her face, once she saw Cora’s livid face.

“More or less,” Cora replied taking a seat next to her friend on a supply crate.

“Eat something,” she said, pushing her plate of food towards Cora, but even the smell made her nauseous.

“No thanks,” she replied, grimacing and pushing it back.

“Rude,” Lew mumbled. “Are you really alright? You look awful.”

“Hangover,” Cora said in a really detached voice that didn’t really sound like her own.

“That bad?”

“Something bad’s about to happen,” Cora said, before she could stop herself. She knew she shouldn’t worry her friend, but there was no one else she could talk to and it was killing her. “Something really big’s coming.”

“That’s just hangover induced paranoia,” she said with a raised eyebrow. “Did you drink something weird? I swear, if Melshi’s brought anything weird from his missions again, I’ll ice him.”

“No, I’ve been feeling it for a while. It’s like… It’s like it’s always there in the back of my mind lately.”

“We’re all feeling things like that sometimes, you just learn to ignore it after a while,” she said, poking at her food, but Cora could see she wasn’t eating anymore.

Cora kept her mouth shut. It wasn’t something she could rationally explain, not without telling her what Mon Mothma had asked her not to. So she just stared into the distance, watching the ships come and go.

“Besides,” Lewella added, dropping her food to the side and inching closer to Cora so she could comfortably place an arm around her shoulders, “if anything is coming, we’ll be here to face it. All of us, together.”

Cora smiled and leaned into her friend’s touch, finding a bit of comfort in her presence. “Do you need help with anything? I’d like to keep busy for a while, keep my mind off things.”

“I could find something for you to do.” Lew yawned and hopped off the crate. “But I’m not letting you overwork yourself. By the way, weren’t you supposed to be working today?”

“Took a couple of days off,” Cora mumbled, remembering once again the reason why she did so.

“And you drank without me?” she said, looking completely bewildered, so much that Cora burst into laughter.

“It wasn’t a happy occasion,” Cora tried excusing herself.

“I don’t care, you know I can drink for every occasion! Have I told you about that time…”

Cora laughed, only half-listening to what her friend was saying, and ushered her towards the door, leaving the busy hangar behind.

It wasn’t until the next day that she heard anything from the War Room. The wait had been excruciating, her mind full with the wildest scenarios, weapons and armies and imperial warships. She tried to imagine what something called a planet killer would look like, but she failed. Her mental state hadn’t been in the best of shapes, so the new information had sent it into overdrive. But deep down, she knew she was afraid. Most of all, she was scared for Cassian.

She was always a bit wary when he was away, wondering where he’d ended up this time, what he was doing, in what sort of danger they were putting him. But right now she desperately wanted him back, safe. Because right now the stakes were insanely high.

She couldn’t understand, if the rumours of a weapon that could destroy planets were real, how they’d even stand a chance. How do you fight a weapon that has the power to wipe you, and your army, and the whole planet along with your base? As far as Cora was aware, and she was sure she wasn’t wildly off the mark, the Rebellion had nothing that could compare to that. It was still a small resistance against the might of the Empire. They had no chance, and yet she knew they would not give up easily.

She wished she could still be a coward, but unfortunately that time had gone. Her love for Cassian hadn’t managed to make her fearless, but had made her willing to confront her fears. She knew she couldn’t throw everything away, she couldn’t just jump on a ship and run anymore. She was here, where she belonged, and would be here until the end, whenever and wherever that might be. She only wished Cassian would be by her side too.

She was working when they called her to the War Room. There was an odd tension surrounding her, like the whole world was buzzing, but it could very well be that it was she who was the tense one.

“You’re currently calling yourself Liana Hallik. Is that correct?” she heard Draven say once she passed the blast doors, arriving in the middle of the interrogation. They hadn't had the courtesy of inviting her from the start, but it was better than never, she assumed.

A wave of conflicting emotions washed over her. Her mother’s name had been Liana. It was still painful to hear it spoken by someone else, but that also meant that maybe Jyn remembered the time spent on ISD Corinthia.

She moved closer, hoping to get a glimpse of the girl she hadn’t seen since they both only reached a stormtrooper’s knee, but instead her heart nearly jumped out of her chest when she saw Cassian leaning next to a screen. He was looking at her with the corner of his eye, and a discreet nod of his head took the place of hello. Cora smiled, despite the nervousness and focused her attention on the woman being interrogated.

She was about Cora’s age, which was consistent with what she knew about her. She bore very little resemblance to the little girl Cora remembered from her youth, but that was also to be expected. People change a lot in...sixteen? Seventeen years? That’s almost an entire lifetime.

Jyn looked exhausted and more than a little apprehensive, but Cora’d been in her position before and she knew how uncomfortable it could be to have all those eyes fixed on you. Especially Draven’s pronounced frown. And if she were to he honest, Cassian wasn’t really helping either. Over time she’d forgotten just how intimidating he could be to someone who didn’t know him. They were all ganging up on the poor girl.

Cora wished she could chime in, try to shield her a little from the assault, but she knew it wasn’t her place to speak yet. She trusted Mothma’s judgement, and if the threat was as big as they thought, they didn’t really have much time for pleasantries.

“We’re up against the clock here, girl,” Draven barked, looking annoyed. “So if there’s nothing to talk about, we’ll just put you back where we found you.”

“I was a child,” she defended herself, and Cora felt really bad for her. “Saw Gerrera saved my life. He raised me. But I’ve no idea where he is. I haven’t seen him in years.”

“We know how to find him, that’s not our problem. What we need is someone who gets us through the door without being killed,” Cassian said, and it was almost a flashback to her own interrogations. He really needed to learn how to be nicer.

They all explained to her what they’d told Cora the day before: there was an imperial defector—currently being held up by Saw Gerrera— that was claiming the Emperor was building a super weapon with the power to destroy planets, that her father was in fact one of the lead engineers and he’d been the one who sent the pilot. They promised her freedom and a clean record in exchange for her help. It seemed they’d become more lenient over time. Cora was only a little bitter about it.

There was more talk about the hows and whens and wheres, but to Cora those meant nothing. The details didn’t interest her because she wasn’t going to be included in the mission anyway. She just wished Cassian wouldn’t be involved either, especially with the looming feeling of doom still very much present. She watched him from the corner of her eye: he looked tired and worried.

Gone was the glow he had the day before. He once again looked older than his age, the lines on his face deeper than before and the dark circles pretty noticeable. He usually looked like that after long, tiring missions, but all this change in just a couple of days. She had to wonder what had happened.

Cora wished she could step closer, put her hands around his chest and hold him tight, tell him that whatever weight he was carrying on his shoulders she was willing to share with him.

“This here is Doctor Corinthia Enoch,” said Mon Mothma, pulling Cora back from her thoughts and reminding her that she wasn’t there just to spectate. “You might remember her from your childhood. She’s one of our doctors.”

Jyn’s eyes narrowed as Cora took a step forward, trying to look as harmless as possible although she knew the medical uniform could be just as intimidating as the military ones. But the girl smiled, even if it was half a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

“You’re the girl in the vents,” she said, and Cora couldn’t help but burst into laughter.

“I’ve been called worse,” she laughed, which somehow eased the tension a little. Cora took a seat so she wasn’t towering over her. Draven had turned around and focused his attention on something else, so the atmosphere was a lot friendlier all of a sudden. As friendly as it could get in something called the War Room. Cassian was still frowning in his corner, but Cora knew that was just his work face.

There was an awkward silence between them, while Jyn carefully studied her. She seemed to consider whether to trust her or not, or maybe she was just trying to remember things about their shared childhood. Cora waited patiently for her to speak. She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do anyway, as far as she was aware, Jyn had already agreed to work with them, so she was there only as a sort of moral comfort.

“Never thought you’d end up being a doctor,” Jyn said after a while. “I thought you were pretty set on becoming a pilot.”

Cora smiled a sad smile. “Yeah, well, life happened,” she replied. “Not everything turns up as planned.”

“And a Rebel?”

“That’s… a more recent development to be honest,” she smiled, a bit embarrassed. “But one I don’t regret in the least.”

“Really?” She looked at her with questioning eyes, and Cora didn’t know if there was distrust in them or not. “What made you change sides?”

That was an easy question with a very complicated answer. Cora took a deep breath, taking her time to find something to say. She could see Draven watching her from the corner of his eye, his back still turned to Jyn, but his whole stance told her he was listening. She wondered if she was there to help win Jyn’s trust, or prove her own loyalty. After such a long time, his distrust was insulting.

“I realized I was believing a lie. I had my eyes shut for a very long time only choosing to see what didn’t oppose any of my convictions.” She took a deep breath. “But once I started looking around and started seeing more than two meters in front of me, I couldn’t just pretend everything was alright.” It was all very vague, but being more specific would have taken a very long time and she assumed no one had time for that. “It still took a long time for me actually leave. Being kidnapped by a certain Intelligence Officer helped a lot in making that decision,” she concluded, pointing a finger in his direction. Cassian snorted, but he did a very good job keeping a straight face.

Jyn smiled the same half smile, but she seemed a little more relaxed this time. “Sounds like quite the story.”

“Yeah. Remind me to tell it to you one day,” she said with a smile. “When we’ll have more time and some… uuuh… better company. Hopefully alcohol too.”

Without Draven listening in and with Mon Mothma seeming to have disappeared, the atmosphere was a lot friendlier. If only Cassian would have sat down beside them so it would just be a talk among friends, instead of a negotiation. But he was talking to Draven in a corner, not paying attention to them anymore.

“Welcome to the Rebellion,” Cora said, smiling at the girl. Jyn blinked a few times in surprise, before mumbling a ‘thank you’. “Don’t worry too much about Draven and the rest. They put up a tough front, but they’re not bad people.” Cora hoped she was right. Unfortunately, Cassian and her few friends were the only ones she could genuinely say that about. Draven was still a mystery. “Anyway, if you ever need me, your best bet is the med bay.”

Jyn looked at her and nodded. She looked tired, but what else was to be expected from someone who had just been rescued from a labour camp. Cora wondered if she could end this meeting and save Jyn from it, since it seemed like nothing else was currently being discussed. She was still a doctor and she could always invoke the patient’s well-being, but she didn’t know if in this case they would listen to her.

Before she could open her mouth to say something, Cassian took a few steps towards the table. “We have to go,” he said, looking at the girl.

Cora’s heart sunk. “Already?” She was unable to hide the disappointment in her voice.

“Soon,” he replied, and Cora could tell he was looking away. “We still have some preparations to make, but we’ll be leaving soon. Thank you, Doctor, we’ll call you if we need further assistance.”

His eyes were cold when he looked at her and Cora wished there was no one around them so she could hug him until some life seeped back into them. She had hoped she could catch him alone for at least a couple of minutes before being shipped again, but that might not be happening.

She nodded and got up. “It’s been my pleasure. Captain Andor, Jyn,” she saluted, before excusing herself and leaving the room.

The feeling of doom followed her on the busy corridors until she entered the med bay. Doctor Crane was sitting at the desk, diligently taking her place since she was away.

“You don’t look too good,” he said, not lifting his eyes from the data-pad in front of him.

“I don’t feel too good,” she admitted, taking a few steps towards the window. It seemed like there was a different kind of rush that day.

“We’ll get over this too,” he said, after a couple of minutes of silence.

“You think?” Cora asked, not bothering to turn around. “A planet killer?”

“I trust the Rebellion and I trust you all. One way or another, we will win. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but one day, there will be light again.”

“I hope you’re right.”

She didn’t feel hopeful, if she were to be honest, but she trusted Cassian. She trusted him with every cell in her being. And if there was anyone to have a chance, it was him.

She tried piecing together the information she had gotten from Jyn’s interrogation. So there was a super weapon that Galen Erso had built, but he had also built a flaw in its design, so it could be taken down at the right time. And now he had sent someone to bring this information to the Rebel Alliance.

Cora couldn’t wrap her mind around how much this man was risking sending word from the middle of the Empire directly to the Rebellion. He must really have balls of steel not only to secretly work for years to sabotage an Imperial super weapon, but to risk everything by sending a cargo pilot to hand them the information. Cora was starting to get nauseous just thinking about it. Compared to these people, she’d never be more than a coward.

“Doctor Enoch,” she heard Mon Mothma’s voice coming from the other side of the room and turned to look at her. “Can I please have a word with you?”

Cora nodded and followed her out of the med bay. There was a sense of weariness as she walked behind Mothma. She wasn't used to get this much attention from the members of the council, all in the same day. She didn't like that she wasn't in the med bay anymore, the place where she felt most in control. But she followed her anyway.

“I know this comes very late, and I have to say I personally am very ashamed of this,” Mon Mothma said once they were safely away from everyone else, in the privacy of one of the personal offices—one that Cora assumed existed, but had never previously entered. There was another officer there holding the duffle bag she had taken with her when she had left her job on the star destroyer and ran away with Cassian. That was unexpected. “We’ve decided a while ago that we would be giving back the things that we took from you, but because of my personal negligence and the things that have happened lately, it seems to have slipped the minds of those responsible with giving it back.” She smiled, but there was no note of embarrassment on her face. “You will see that everything you had in it is still there, we made sure that everything was kept under strict supervision.”

The officer handed her the bag and Cora looked inside. As far as she could tell, everything was still there, including the healing field generator. Especially the healing field generator. She always assumed that they had taken it and given it to one of the field medics, but it seemed that somehow they respected her ownership over the stolen device.

“Lieutenant Marek has a list of everything that was inside at the time of your… imprisonment. You can both go over it, make sure that everything’s alright.”

“There’s no need, I’ll take your word for it,” Cora said, flinging the bag over her shoulder. “Why now?” she asked before leaving the room. “Why give it back now?”

“As I’ve said, we were planning to do it a while ago, but…”

“Yes, but why remember it today?” Cora interrupted her, knowing full well that she was being rude. “Ma’am,” she added, for good measure. “Why today? Have you all decided that you trust me enough not to try and run away or have you given up hope that the Rebellion will survive?”

“Neither,” she said, and seemed not to notice the snark in Cora’s voice. Or she had been expecting it. “You are free to leave whenever you want.”

Cora’s eyes widened and she burst into an incredulous laughter. “And my tracker bracelet?”

“It will be taken down whenever you wish. You have my word.” Cora still looked at her with wide eyes, not being able to fully comprehend the sudden turn of events. “If you wish to leave, we’ll ensure transport for you to a safe place in the galaxy. Also, we won’t forget the help you provided us with until now, so if you ever need us, we’ll be here for you.” The woman was smiling and sounded really genuine, dispelling any suspicion Cora might have had that this was some sort of test to prove her loyalty once again.

“I’m not leaving,” Cora said with determination in her voice. “I’ll be… in the med bay if you need me,” she said.

The amount of things that had happened in only one day was overwhelming. Cora was used to working and staying alert for 12 hours straight, but even on one of the busiest days at work she didn’t feel like there was this much information to process. First, there was the threat of being wiped by an imperial superweapon; then the knowledge that Cassian was being sent to fuck knows where to find a pilot who might have information on how to destroy said planet killer; and now, all of a sudden, she was no longer a prisoner and all her stuff had been returned to her… She was overwhelmed.

“Anything I can help you with?” Dr Crane asked, looking at her with a worried expression on his face as she dropped the duffle bag on one of the tables.

“Ummm…” she looked around her, completely lost. She had no idea what to do next, so she focused on the only thing that was clear in her mind: seeing Cassian before he left.

Once she’d decided this, it was like her mind was in working order once again. All the other things she needed to process were put on a mental shelf and left to be dealt with another time, right now Cassian was the only thing that mattered. She started unloading things from her duffle bag and checking them. Most of the medication and survival gear she had stolen from the Empire seemed to be in working order.

“Doc, can I borrow some supplies?” she asked, already opening one of the medicine cabinets and pulling some stuff out.

“Be my guest,” he said, smiling at the frenzy with which she was shoving things in her bag.

She knew Cassian would do some stupid shit, she was convinced of that. And even if he wouldn’t, someone else would, and he’d still end up injured. She knew, she’d treated him so many times before. And she couldn’t be there with him to save him, if anything happened. So preparing a bag full of survival gear was the best she could do. The portable healing field generator could end up being a lifesaver and she was more than happy to give it to him.

She was putting the supplies in order, deciding what to leave in the bag and what was just her own personal stuff when her hand touched the blaster. She’d forgotten about it, and she was still surprised they’d given it back to her. She pulled it out and checked it. It was still working and it seemed like someone even changed the energy cell before giving it back, making sure that it was fully loaded. Cora lifted her eyes to look at Doctor Crane, but he wasn’t paying attention to her anymore. She hid the weapon under her medical tunic.

“Doc, is it okay if I take half an hour off?” she asked, flinging the bag over her shoulder.

“Of course,” he said, still busy with reading something. “Grab something to eat on the way back too.” Cora nodded and made a mental note to stop by the mess hall, even though she wasn’t hungry in the least. “And wish him good luck.”

She smiled before bolting out the door and running towards the elevators. Hopefully she’d still be able to catch him.

The distress could be sensed everywhere, in the rushed way people walked down the corridor, in the weary way they looked at each other. Cora wondered just how much they knew. She doubted the rumour could be kept a secret for long and from the way they talked to Jyn Erso in a room full of people, they didn’t even try that hard.

She found Jyn next to the ER, heading towards Cassian’s ship. She seemed ready to go wherever the Rebellion was sending them, her face a mask of determination.

“Leaving already?” Cora asked, trying to match her pace. “They didn’t give you much time to rest, did they?”

Jyn nodded. “We are up against the clock, it seems,” she said, mirroring Draven’s snark and Cora couldn't help but smile.

“Do you know where you’re going?” Cora asked, showing just how much she didn’t listen to what had been said in the war room.

“Jedha. After that, I have no idea.” She shrugged. “To find my father, hopefully.”

Cora had heard about Jedha, but mostly since she’d joined the Rebellion. She knew it had become a dangerous place since the Empire’s occupation, with frequent fights between the locals and the occupying forces. Jyn had to be careful—well, all of them, but she trusted Cassian and K2. Jyn didn’t seem as seasoned, but maybe she was projecting her own insecurities on her. Her image of Jyn was still that of a frail, easily scared child.

“I hope you find him,” Cora said, and she was happy that Jyn returned her smile even if it was short lived. “And when you do, I hope you’ll both visit so we can all have a drink and laugh about our childhood.”

“I still can’t picture you as a rebel,” she said, and her voice sounded a bit sarcastic, but Cora brushed it off. “You were quite the Empire supporter back in the day.”

“Also young and naive,” she laughed, a little embarrassed.

Cora stopped and looked around, at the place that had become her home over time. She wasn’t sure when that had happened, when she’d started calling it home and when she felt like she truly belonged, despite Draven’s insistence to make her feel unwelcome. She didn’t even hate him anymore. She’d gotten used to him and his attitude and he didn’t intimidate her anymore, he was just an annoyance. But she was glad she had gotten the chance to stay and become part of the Rebellion.

“Anyway,” she continued, forcing herself to not get too lost in her own thoughts, “do you have any idea what you’ll be facing when you get there?”

“I guess we’ll have to see.”

Cora wondered if Jyn was really as tough as she tried to look. Probably not, and certainly not without a weapon. Cora had noticed that she hadn’t been given one, and since she had been picked up from a labour camp, she doubted that she had her own. Maybe Cassian would give her one once they’d take off. Somehow she doubted it, she knew he wasn’t the most trusting. But they couldn’t send her in the middle of the battle completely unarmed. Cora could feel her own blaster hard against her body.

“Here, take this,” she said taking it out and handing it to her. Jyn looked from the weapon to Cora and frowned. “I’ll want it back, but you can have it for now.”

“Thanks,” she said, still a little cautious, but taking the weapon nonetheless. It looked a lot more natural in her hand, Cora thought.

K2’s tall, dark outline caught her eye, reminding her why she was there in the first place. “Shall we?” Cora said, pointing towards the U-wing.

It didn’t take long to spot Cassian in the crowd, a little further away, talking to Draven. From the sour look on his face she was sure he didn’t like whatever the general had to say. No wonder Cassian looked so tired all the time. She sighed and waited for him.

“Captain,” she greeted once he had gotten closer.

“Doctor,” he replied, and the frown on his forehead relaxed considerably. “How are you?” he said in a low voice, as if anyone would be listening in.

“Oh, you know, the usual. This whole thing with the pilot seems to have stirred things up a little.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, looking down. “I wish I didn’t have to tell them anything about…”

“No, it’s alright,” she said, her heart filled with joy knowing that he really meant to keep his promise to her. “Glad to have been of some help. Though I’m not sure I’ve helped much. Anyway,” she said, trying to keep things short as she could see Jyn and K2 already seeming to be butting heads. “Got my stuff back today.” She took the duffle bag off her shoulder and showed it to him.

“They should have done that a long time ago.” The frown was back and although Cora appreciated his indignation, this wasn’t the time.

“Better late than never.” She opened it a little to show him what was inside. “There’s a healing field generator and some stuff that might save your life, so I'm giving it to you. Wait, where are you running off to?” Cassian had started walking briskly towards the U-Wing and Cora strode after him, fully determined to slap him over that stubborn head of his head once he caught up to him.

“Keep them. We’ll be fine.”

“Cassian! I know you and I know the state you come back to me in and I won’t have it! Take the bag.”

“Stop worrying for a second, will you?” he mumbled, still a few steps in front of her.

“Cassian!” she whisper-shouted after him, but the stubborn ass was still walking. “They said they’ll take the tracker bracelet off if I want to.”

Cassian stopped and turned around to look at her. His eyes darted from her face to her hand and Cora couldn’t understand why, for the briefest moment, he seemed scared.

“They said that I’m free to go anytime I want. They’ll take it off and I’ll be free to go.”

“Why didn’t you take it off?”

“I don’t know. Figured it might help me come back home if I ever get lost.”

“So you’re...”

“I’m not leaving. I’ll be here when you come back.”

Cassian nodded, but didn’t say anything, instead he turned around and walked into the ship.

“Cassian, the bag!” she yelled after him, still holding it in her hand. She heard him yell after the others to hurry and Jyn walked into the ship, leaving only Cora and K2 at the bottom of the ramp.

“Why does she get a blaster and I don’t?” K asked, in a tone that probably meant he was pretty offended.

“I don’t know, but I think you and I both should complain to Draven.”

“Maybe.”

“K!” Cassian shouted from the inside of the ship, sounding more and more impatient.

“Take this,” she said, handing the bag to the droid. “Please take good care of it and make sure it doesn’t get lost. I packed some things that might save your lives in case of an emergency. Please look after it.”

The droid looked at it. “Even mine?”

Cora’s words died in her throat, and for a couple of seconds she could do nothing but stare at the black, expressionless face. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, and she could feel her heart aching.

“Don’t worry about it. Cassian will take care of me.” He walked up the ramp, towards and increasingly impatient Cassian, holding the bag in his hand. “I’ll look after it, Doctor Enoch.”

“Good luck!” she yelled after them, as the door closed behind him.

Cora stood in the same spot until Lewella came by her side, staring at the patch of sky where she saw Cassian’s ship disappear. She felt lost, like the whole world had shifted under her feet and she couldn’t regain her balance.

“Are you alright?” her friend asked, rubbing soothing circles over her back, as if she was trying to pull her out of her numb state. Cora nodded, afraid that if she’d open her mouth, she’d start bawling. “Let’s go get something to eat,” she said, guiding her back into the building.

Masterlist in bio

#cassian andor #cassian andor x reader #cassian andor x oc #star wars #rogue one

4 notes · View notes