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rubylarkspur22 · 2 years

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Ship Swap AU (💕) Explanation

I know nobody asked for this, but I felt like explaining my AUs. At least the less common ones. Figured I'd give folks some better context than my little blurbs in the pinned post.

This is a long one, so I have a "Keep Reading" cut in case you are not interested and just wanna move along with your day without have all this post to scroll through. Trust me, it's long.

So! Let's start with the Kamado kids, Tanjirou and Nezuko. Quick TW for child abuse, human trafficking, implications of attempted SA, and death.

So Tanjirou and Nezuko are switched with Kanao and Zenitsu respectively. But things are a bit different than in canon.

Tanjurou and Kie still very much love and care for their children, and are still wonderful parents. What happened in this AU is that Tanjirou and Nezuko were kidnapped by bandits at a young age. Sometime between Takeo and Hanako's births. Tanjurou was out of the house on a market trip, and Kie ended up unconscious despite her rock-hard head and best efforts, only able to shield Takeo with her body.

After being kidnapped, the two siblings only really had each other as they were kept with traffickers who didn't treat them well at all. Tanjirou tried to take most of the hits so Nezuko wouldn't get hurt. He tried to protect her as best he could. But eventually, Nezuko was sold off to someone else, leaving Tanjirou alone with their kidnappers.

Tanjirou

Tanjirou, as you can likely guess, becomes the child that the Kochou sisters rescued and subsequently adopted.

After Nezuko was sold off, Tanjirou eventually broke, shutting down his once barely containable emotions and closing off his mind as a defense/coping mechanism. The scent of kindness and flowers, and butterflies and anger brought him back to himself in time to notice the two girls with butterfly in their hair.

The sisters, Kochou Kanae and Shinobu, took him in and adopted him as their little brother. Tanjirou was able to inform the sisters of his given name, despite the challenge of speaking after months of silence, and picked "Kanzaki" as a surname when presented with the various options by the Kochou sisters. This is based on the Taisho Era Secret that Kanao picked both her names the same way, and Aoi tried to urge her to pick her surnmae, Kanzaki, but Kanao instead picked Tsuyuri. *pats Aoi on the head* It's okay, I'll give you a little brother in this AU!

Of course, the sisters' decision to adopt their newest addition came with its challenges. Namely, the fact Tanjirou's previous environment had stunted him mentally to the point he couldn't make decisions or take action without being told exactly what to do. Kanae offered a coin as a solution, which worked to make things easier until they could undo some of the damage.

Tanjirou eventually discovered Breath Styles from his new sisters during their sparring fights. Though he had repressed his memories from before he was brought to the Butterfly Mansion, one that had remained somewhat intact was a figure dancing in the snow. Tanjirou picked up a practice sword, and discovered the ability to use this dance as a Breath Style. A visit to the Rengoku Estate later, and it was revealed that Sun Breathing had made its return to the Corps for the first time since the Sengoku Era. Tanjirou's use of Sun Breathing led some (*cough* Shinjurou, mostly *cough*) to believe he was actually descended from Yoriichi.

The next events will include a spoiler for a major canon divergence I made, and I don't wanna spoil it in this explanation post! If I get asked about it, I'll probably talk about it then.

Nezuko

Nezuko was sold to the Red Light District in Yoshiwara. The one bright side to her situation was that she was sold to Tokito House, the House who had the kind and sisterly Koinatsu. (Taisho Era Secret: Nezuko only spent one week at Kyogoku House with Warabihime, but it was enough to be thankful she hadn't been sold to the House of the cruel and terrifying woman.) Despite the small bright sides, however, Nezuko despised her new life. Not least of all because it separated her from her family and made her into little more than a piece of property to be passed around when she was old enough. At least, that's what was intended to happen to her.

When she was 12, Nezuko's life changed. A customer got too intimate for her rank as well as her liking, and she lashed out in fear and self-defense. She stabbed the customer in the throat with a hairpin. Of course, most girls who were old enough to take in customers knew the story from over a century ago. The story of the girl who attacked a customer, and got burned alive. And that was only for gouging out a single eyeball! Nezuko reasonably panicked, and ran for the hills. There, she ran into none other than the God of Festivals himself, Uzui Tengen, and his three wives.

(I was originally planning to have Nezuko meet Kuwajima, Zenitsu's mentor in canon, but I think her meeting Uzui would make much more sense considering Geography and the fact Kuwajima is 1. missing a whole leg, 2. retired, and 3. training Kaigaku. So she meets the flashy ninja man instead!)

Tengen, upon hearing the pre-teen's terror and distress, let his wives handle the situation and calm to girl down. Upon realizing the situation, the four decided to take Nezuko in and adopt her. Nezuko happily went with them, thankful for an escape from Yoshiwara and hopeful to get a chance to find the family she lost.

As she grew up with the Uzuis, Nezuko also took an interest in Demon Slaying. With enough pestering and Puppy Eyes, she was taken under Tengen's wing to learn Sound Breathing.

One thing they all learned quickly about Nezuko was that she is feral. Over 5 years of being forced to be a "proper young lady" 24/7, she's got some pent up Gremlin Energy to work out. Nezuko is required to have a) adult supervision at all times, and/or b) no access to anything that could cause a fire and/or explosion unless she's supposed to be causing fires and/or explosions.

Then here's my explanation for Kanao and Zenitsu(Sorry, I don't have pictures atm. I'm mostly focused on Tanjirou and Nezuko right now and I struggle with drawing Zenitsu's hair!):

Kanao ran away from her abusive parents before her canon mental break, and ran as far as she could before she collapsed. She was found by Zenitsu, who brought her to wherever he lived at the time and helped her recover from the long journey, malnourishment, and dehydration. The two got to know each other, and decided to stick together after a while. While Kanao didn't have a first name at the time, she did pick up the family name Zenitsu had of Agatsuma after deciding to become his sister.

(Since we don't know when her real birthday is, we can't say if Kanao's older or younger than Zenitsu. The difference would be a matter of months, as Zenitsu and Kanao are both 16 at the times of their debuts, with Zenitsu's birthday falling on September 3rd while Kanao's actual date of birth is unknown. So I shall just say sister, neither older nor younger.)

The two wandered between towns for a few years before coming to the town at the base of Mount Kumotori, where they were found by Saburou and Tanjurou. After explaining the situation, Saburou agreed to watch over them until they found a more permanent home. And then he ends up getting attached and adopts them himself!

Because of their new home being so close, Kanao and Zenitsu became close with the Kamado kids(Takeo and Hanako, adding on Shigeru and Rokuta when they're born. Tanjirou and Nezuko have been missing for a couple years.). Of course, the two were made aware of the missing eldest children, and made sure to not make themselves into potential replacements. However, they do still care for the younger kids, and help when they can. Helping with chores, babysitting the kids if Kie and Tanjurou have to leave the house, etc.

The two also make names for themselves thanks to their enhanced senses. Zenitsu is often asked to help find lost pets or help kids find their way back to their parents with his hearing, while Kanao is often requested to use her sharp sight to help find wild animals sneaking treats or make sure a building project is okay. And suffice it to say, the two are very good at their jobs.

When Tanjurou passes away from his illness, Kie steps up to take charge until Takeo's older, including taking over the charcoal deliveries. Both Kanao and Zenitsu step up to help, even if Takeo insists he can handle it himself.

This is what leads to the events that transpire during Muzan's "visit" to the Kamado home.

Zenitsu had chosen to help Takeo watch over the house and younger kids, while Kanao insisted on helping Kie take the latest batch of charcoal into town. Everything continues as it did in the canon episode 1, only with Kie going into town with Kanao as well. Yes, this is because I want Kie alive so Tanjirou and Nezuko have someone to come home to.

The two women come back to the aftermath of the massacre. It's one of the times Kanao wished she didn't have such a sharp sense of sight. While Zenitsu survived, none of Kie's children made it. Kanao offered her condolences, knowing that Kie had lost her entire family now. It was quick, though, as they had to get Zenitsu to a doctor. However, as we know, this is where a whole mess of events begins.

...

Et voila!

If there's any questions you have, don't hesitate to send me an ask!

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maemelany · 3 years

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Fixing the Broken (Part 2)

Summary:

People say that time heals all wounds. In your case, time made it worse.

You’ve been married to Chris for five years, but his absence spoke louder than his words. After 5 years of trying, you’ve decided that you’ve had enough, and you left him. But Chris doesn’t want to let you go; he doesn’t want to give up on your marriage.

Would he be able to fix what you consider irretrievably broken

Warnings: some serious Angst, a little bit of language

Word Count: 1,391

Pairing: Chris Evans x reader

A/N: OMG guys! I can’t believe my eyes right now… your reactions are just AMAZING. I am so happy you love it so far. Some of you even asked to be added to the tag list! (I didn’t even have a tag list because I never imagined you would love it so much) But the aim is to please, so I’m adding a tag list. Please let me know in the comments or DM me if you want to be tagged as well.

Love you all ❤️

Prologue , Part 1 , Part 2

Masterlist

“Would 'sorry' have made any difference? Does it ever? It's just a word. One word against a thousand actions.” - Sarah Ockler

It took him two days. Two days before all hell broke loose. Two days after Carly called you and told you what happened. It broke your heart even more, to hear your sister-in-law telling you how Chris took it. Your first instinct was to go home to see him, not knowing if Chris was okay killed you.

But you knew Chris. You knew what he was going through right now; you’ve seen him in the past taking in bad news. He needed time to be angry, time to process what was happening.

And because you knew him so well, you weren’t surprised when you heard his agitated voice downstairs. You knew how obstinate he could be. You knew he would never accept it was over without confronting you first. You chose to stay at your best friend’s place so that he knew where to find you when he was ready to talk.

You were ready to talk. You had weeks to perfect your pitch. You were going to be composed and calm. You left Chris because it wasn’t working. That didn’t mean Chris was your enemy. He hurt you but deep down, you knew it wasn’t on purpose.

“I need to talk to my wife.”

He was in the living room, your best friend trying to calm him down. There he was, your handsome soon-to-be ex-husband. He was wearing one of his Patriots t-shirts. It made you smile. It brought you back to happier times when you two would watch football matches together in front of the TV, him trying desperately to explain the rules to you.

Your smile vanished when your eyes met. The sadness you saw in Chris’s eyes made you want to run and hug it away. In an ideal world, he would tell you that he loved you, that he’s sorry, and you would come back. But in the world in which you lived, more than often, sorry wasn’t enough.

So, you crossed your arms, trying to gather all the courage you had left.

“Let’s talk,” you said

You gave your best friend a small smile, assuring her that everything will be fine. Deep down, though, you weren’t sure it would be the case.

You sat in the backyard, but none of you two said a word. You tried to look at everything but your husband. The speech you prepared, the reassuring words, everything disappeared. Now that he was close to you, the only thing you wanted to do was be in his arms. Your heart was being treacherous, but your mind also knew your heart wouldn’t be able to handle the next time he will leave for another movie.

“Why?” Chris whispered

You almost didn’t hear him. You wished you didn’t hear him. That small word, that innocent, simple ‘why’ made you feel all sorts of things.

It broke you, and it made you wonder how much hurt your heart could take. But it also made you so angry. Anger you didn’t even know you had in you.

“Why did you leave?” Chris asked again

You gave him a sad smile because you honestly didn’t know what made you take the decision to leave. It was the accumulation of many things, some of them you weren’t ready to share, at least not yet.

“I had to,” you finally said because, in the end, it summarized it all.

Chris looked at you with confused eyes. “You had to ?” he repeated. “What do you mean you had to? You had to leave me without even notifying me?”

You blinked. Apparently, you weren’t the only one with repressed anger.

“Do you know how it feels to come back to an empty home? To hear your sister tell you that your wife left you. How could you be so…”

“So what?” you stood up. “So what, Chris?” You cut him off

He didn’t answer. Instead, he stared at you, and you stared back. It was a silent battle you weren’t ready to lose. You’d lost too much already.

But then he said it, the one thing that made you angrier than you’ve ever been at him.

“Selfish. How could you be so selfish, Y/N.”

You laughed. But it wasn’t a happy one; it was a dry laugh that even scared yourself.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Chris. I’m sorry you had to come back to an empty house. I’m so sorry you had to hear it from Carly. I’m so sorry you had to deal with my selfishness because, of course, it’s all about you.”

There was this voice in your head, telling you to calm down. You started to walk away, trying to compose yourself. This was supposed to be a calm, adult-to-adult conversation. But it echoed in your head, the way he called you selfish, and it didn’t seat well. You walked right back to him. He wanted selfish; you were going to give him selfish.

“You had to come to an empty house once, once, Chris. I had to do it every single fucking night.”

He opened his mouth, but you cut him off again. “Selfish Y/N is not done. I didn’t ask Carly to tell you. Why didn’t you notice I was gone when you first came back? It’s not my fault it takes you one fucking day to realize your wife was gone!” you shouted.

You had trouble catching your breath. You didn’t even notice your tears while you were speaking, and you angrily washed them away.

“I’ve been coming back to an empty house for years, Chris. Two days and you’re done? Now tell me who’s selfish.”

You could read guilt all over Chris’s face. It wasn’t supposed to go that far. This was why you hated confrontations. You preferred to leave things inside because when you expressed your feelings, and they weren’t heard, it pissed you off and made you say things you wished you had kept inside.

You never wanted him to feel guilty. You didn’t leave him for revenge. You left because it didn’t make sense to stay.

“I didn’t know you were feeling … all these things...” Chris said

“Well… I am. You say I’m selfish, but I’m just doing what’s best for us.”

Chris stood up and cupped your face with his hands. “I didn’t mean it… you’re not selfish, Y/N.”

You closed your eyes and enjoyed the contact of his hands. You’d missed it so much.

“We can fix it, baby. It’s us… I love you…” Chris whispered

You were seriously starting to wonder how much breaking your heart could handle.

You looked at his beautiful green eyes. “And I love you, but I can’t do this anymore, Chris. I… I just can’t.”

Chris looked at you, trying to read your eyes. You took a step back, trying to compose yourself once again.

“I’m not giving up on us, Y/N. I took vows, and I’m not breaking them,” Chris said to you.

“Chris, you broke them a long time ago. Can you even remember the last time we’ve been together for more than a month without interruption?” you asked him.

“You knew who you were marrying, Y/N, don’t act as if I didn’t warn you.”

“I married the man I loved, the one I was ready to start a family with. I didn’t marry the busy actor from Hollywood.”

Chris chuckled. “Too bad they’re part of the same package.”

“And yet I only got the actor who seems to be everywhere but with me.”

Chris looked away, reflecting on what you just said.

You finally understood that this conversation was not going to get anywhere. You were both too angry, and the emotions were still too raw. You couldn’t even imagine what would happen if you presented the divorce papers to Chris right now.

“You should go…” you finally said

“Come home with me, Y/N. It’s our home…”

“I can’t. We’ll talk soon, I promise. But not now, we’re not objective right now” you tried to reason with him.

He closed his eyes and ran his hand through his hair. He knew you were right; you would keep hurting each other if you continue talking right now.

“We’re not done. We can save this marriage,” Chris told you before leaving.

You closed your eyes, silent tears rolling down your face. You wished you were as confident as Chris was…

Tag List (tell me in the comments if you want to be tagged)

@90girlgolden , @jennamarieee623 , @spookyparadisesheep , @coffeebooksandfandom , @calirindo @jessyballet , @janeyboo , @killerstyles , @patzammit , @inlovewith3 , @katelyneann , @evatia

#chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fic #chris evans fandom #chris evans angst #chris evans imagine #chris evans series #chris evans smut #angst #fluff #chris evans fluff #smut #series #fixing the broken #fixingthebroken #part 2 #part 3 coming soon

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idy-ll-ique · 3 years

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Didn’t Know Where Else To Go.

Pairing: Mob Boss!Sebastian Stan x F!Reader

Genre: Fluff and Angst

Warnings: violence, assault, death, mentions of smut at the end and curse words

Requested: Nope

The hero shows up at the villain’s doorstep one night. They’re shivering, bleeding, scared. There’s also a slightly dazed look in their eyes- they were drugged. They look like they were assaulted. Looking up at the villain, swaying slightly as they’re close to passing out, they mumble “...didn’t know where else to go...” then collapse into the villain’s arms.

Summary: Sebastian Stan: a mobster boss. Everyone in the city hated him. When he meets Y/N, a new bartender at his favourite bar, she makes it clear that she also doesn’t like him. What changes?

Author’s Note: Hey peeps! The aforementioned prompt is something I read on Tumblr and really liked it. So I decided to write a fic loosely based on it. I hope you guys enjoy this! (This has been in my drafts for a long time, I’m currently working on 2 requested fics)

---

Sebastian POV:

"Boss, there is someone at the door."

"Send them in," I commanded, looking up from my book. The person who walked in with him was… instantly recognizable. My jaw dropped— she had been crying. Her pupils were dilated, she was taking short, fast breaths and her voice was frail. "What are you doing here?"

"Didn't know where else to go."

With that, she did the most YA-Novel-Female-Protagonist thing she could do— faint.

It all began 7 months ago. The person who was at the door was Y/N Y/L/N, a bartender at one of my favourite bars ever in the city. The thing is, when we first met, she hated me. Let me take you back 7 months.

Flashback:

I entered the bar, smirking when everyone turned to look at me. They looked away just as quickly, their voices becoming hushed. I looked around, stopping when I saw the bartender. Whoa, this was someone new and damn was she cute. Smiling, I walked over and sat down in front of her.

"Hey, was— oh. What will you like, sir?" I rolled my eyes at her. "Come on, why does everyone do the same thing? What is it about me?" I joked, winking. "Um, the fact that you're a fucking mobster and have been terrorizing the city for the past few years and would kill anyone if they question you? Uh, I don't know, actually," she snapped.

I froze. The woman seemed to really hate me. Here I was, thinking if I buttered her up enough she'd come home with me. I told her my order and looked away from her. "So, why here?" she asked me as she prepared my drink. "I really like this place, I've been here before loads of times. I don't plan to stop," I shrugged.

"Ugh, just my luck," she mumbled under her breath, rolling her eyes in disgust. "Look, you don't have to be fucking rude, okay?" I retorted. "Oh yeah? What are you gonna do? Shoot me? That's what you like to do, right? Kill people. Innocent people, let me be precise. No wonder everyone in the city except your goons hate you."

With that, she slammed my glass on the counter and stormed away from me, going to serve another customer. I was left staring at the glass, my figure shaking with repressed anger. She knew damn well I never laid hands on innocent people. No one in the city hated me.

Or did they?

The shaking stopped. What if she was right? I mean, she was much closer to the civilians than I was, what if they all hated me? "Uh, excuse me," I called out, hating how my voice cracked slightly. She glanced at me. "What do you want?"

"Answers."

"Ask the questions first," she huffed. "Does… does everyone really not like me?" I asked her. She stopped cleaning the glass, set it down and looked straight at me. "Yes. They don't like you. You're a mobster boss, dude! Have you seen films with mobster bosses? All of them, evil as hell. See how everyone in the bar became quiet when you came in?"

She had a point. "You know I would never lay a hand on innocent people," I defended myself, glaring at her. "Look, I'm sorry but we can never be too careful. What if you snap one day? What if you go rogue? Everyone lives in fear. They're afraid of you. And it's not like I can change everyone's mindset all at once."

"I guess you're right," I muttered, downing my drink in one go. "Hey, Mr Stan?" I looked up. "Y/N Y/L/N. I shouldn't have snapped at you," she apologized quietly, holding her hand out. "Doing this to get onto my good side?" I teased and she laughed.

"Come on, man! Doing this to show people you're not all you seem to be." I took her hand and shook it. "It's very nice to meet you, Y/N." She nodded and went back to cleaning the glasses. "Can I get one more drink?"

"I hope you didn't drive here."

"I came on foot, actually. My house is just down the block." She gasped, startling me. "Mr Stan, giving your address away to strangers? How irresponsible of you!" I couldn't help but laugh. "I guess I trust you to not do anything bad." I spent another 2 hours there, chatting with Y/N.

She was a really fun person to be around. She had completed her education but was searching for jobs. In the meanwhile, she had decided to work here.

By the time I was done drinking, I was too tipsy to even walk. "K, I'm goin'," I slurred, standing up. "Mr Stan, don't— oof," Y/N hissed as I fell off the chair in my intoxicated state. She rushed around the bar and helped me stand, wrapping her arms around my waist. "You can't walk in this state."

"I need to go home," I whined. "As it turns out, you've stayed long enough and now it's closing time. Let me get my coat." She dumped me on the chair and went to fetch her coat. I admired her from afar.

She wore a mini-skirt that was flirtatiously snug around her thick thighs and a tank top. When she wore the coat, it extended past the skirt. Her hair was pulled into a messy bun and she was looking very sexy in the dim light. "Damn," I whispered under my breath, smirking.

When she returned, she helped me stand. I draped an arm around her shoulder and we stepped out of the bar. "Okay, which direction?" I pointed to the right and we proceeded to walk. "Have you ever gotten this drunk before? Because it's obvious you can't handle booze."

"Not really, I usually have to stay sober for my job. We need real intellectuals in the mob biz, you can't have drunk idiots running a mob," I laughed, finding it hard to keep myself upright. Shouldn't have drank so much…

"Right now, sir, you are a drunk idiot," Y/N sighed, rolling her eyes. "Thank you, I will take that as a compliment. Plus, you can just call me Sebastian, it's okay." She shook her head and silence fell between us. "Tell me when we're there," she spoke quietly as I felt a headache coming.

"Being drunk sucks," I pouted, "I'm not even having a good time! It hurts everywhere—" "Probably because you fell off the chair." "—and my head hurts! I don't understand why people like to be so drunk." She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"You are seriously reminding me of my ex-boyfriend. He couldn't handle drinks either and I always had to babysit him when he got back home drunk," she muttered. "You can babysit me anytime!" I said cheerfully. "You're drunk, Sebastian, stop flirting with me."

"But you're so cute."

"Thank you, that is very kind of you."

"And se— we're here! That's my house!" She stopped in front of my house and rang the bell. "Is anyone at home or do I have to tuck you in?" she joked. "Nah, my best buddies and right-hand-men live with me. One's name is Chris—" Just at that moment, Chris opened the door.

"Wha— Sebastian? Are you drunk?"

"Sorry sir, I didn't know he couldn't handle drinks. I'm Y/N Y/L/N, the new bartender at Red Tavern." With that, she passed me to Chris. "Thank you for bringing him home, Ms Y/L/N. It's not your fault he got intoxicated, he should've known when to stop. He didn't cause trouble, did he?"

"Oh no, of course not, sir. He's fun to be around," she commented, gesturing towards me. I grinned. "Please, he's really not, you don't have to lie. Anyway, thank you so much again! Do you want a lift home? I can ask Anthony to drive you home."

"That would be great, thanks. My house is in the opposite direction, it's a bit far…"

"Absolutely no problem. Anthony!"

A few minutes later, my other friend, Anthony Mackie came downstairs, rubbing his eyes. "Yeah— oh, Sebastian is— damn." He tried to hold his laughter in. "Yeah. While I get him to his room, do you mind dropping her home? That's Y/N, she brought him home." Y/N waved at him.

"Of course, I don't mind. Thanks, Y/N, for taking care of our boss." She shook her head, waving her arms in dismissal. "Absolutely no worries, sir." They walked away, closing the door behind them. "She's cute, right?"

Chris blinked at me. "You have a crush on her!" he guffawed. "Duh, man. Did you even look at her? Girl was oozing sexiness," I smiled in fond memory. "Okay this got weird fast, I'm just gonna take you to bed." He got me to my room, placed me on the bed and left.

As soon as my head hit the pillow, I passed out.

End Flashback.

"Y/N!" I yelled, jumping out of my seat to catch her in time. "Get a suite ready," I barked angrily at a few people, who immediately ran in fear. "And you, get me some water and a blanket." The person nodded shakily and ran out of the room. I picked Y/N up and carried her to the couch, laying her down. I sat next to her, checking her temperature.

Oh no, I needed a doctor. I took out my phone and called my personal practitioner but before I could speak, Y/N coughed. "Y/N," I whispered, cutting the call. "Sebastian, it hurts," she moaned. "Don't worry, doll, I'm calling my doctor. Stay here tonight."

"I don't have anywhere else to go." I froze. "Your house?" I asked. "That's… that's where I got attacked. I can't go back," she cried. "Wait, just— just take rest, we'll talk when you're better. Get some sleep, I'm calling my doctor." I called him again, glancing at Y/N when she took my other hand and closed her eyes.

I chatted with him for five minutes; he said he'd take half-an-hour to get to my place. "Damn it," I grumbled, keeping my phone on the table. Just then, one of my servants returned with the glass of water and the blanket. I thanked her and she left the room, so it was just me and Y/N.

"Y/N, sweetie, can you please get up for me?" She opened her eyes. "What?" Oh God, she was getting weaker. "Have some water." As soon as I held the glass of water in front of her, she freaked out. Screaming, she pushed the glass out of my hand and it fell to the floor with a 'clang', the water spilling everywhere.

"No, no water, no… no…" She sobbed, pulling at her hair. "Okay, okay, no water! No water! Y/N, calm—" I grabbed her hands and clutched them in mine. She stopped sobbing; looked at our hands and then at my face. I brought her hands to my lips, softly kissing them. "No water. It's okay, Y/N, you're safe with me."

"Safe," she breathed heavily, "That's what he said to me before he poisoned me!" Who was he? Okay, she was getting insanely paranoid now… "I'm not like him, Y/N, I don't wanna hurt you," I whispered, looking straight into her eyes.

"Yes, you are! You both can't handle drinks!" she yelled, her tears beginning to flow once more. "Wait." My nostrils flared. Her ex-boyfriend, he harmed her? "Y/N, please, this is not good for your health, why don't you try to calm down? Breathe, baby girl, please," I pleaded.

She seemed to momentarily come to her senses. "Sebastian…" Without warning, she sat up and flung herself in my arms. And for once, I didn't mind holding her close. "You're okay with me. I'm not him. I am not going to harm you, Y/N, trust me," I mumbled into her hair, rubbing her back.

"I trusted him," she sobbed, "And he tried to kill me." This time, my anger won. I vowed to myself, if I don't kill her ex boyfriend in the next 24 hours— "I am nothing like him. We may have one shared trait," I rolled my eyes at its stupidity, "But I am nothing like him. For once, I wouldn't harm you even in my dreams."

Her sobs started to subside. "That's it, doll, don't cry. I'll keep you safe. Even if I die trying, I'll let no harm come to you." For 7 long months, I missed her. I missed her a bit too much. Every waking moment of mine was spent thinking about the beautiful bartender.

She was in my dreams. She was constantly on my mind. I longed for the moment when I could meet her again and ask her out. Alas, that time never came.

A week after we met, I had to go to Romania for some important work. I spent three months there and when I was back, Y/N was no longer working at the bar. She found a new job and I had no way of locating her anywhere.

I knew Anthony dropped her home that one time but when I asked him, he told me she had asked him to drop him off somewhere else. From there, he said, she was going to walk alone. He offered to drop her home again, but she refused. Having no choice, he returned without knowing where she lived.

That resulted in me not knowing where she was. I was heartbroken and told myself to stop thinking about her. I became more and more engaged in work, I became moody, temperamental and cold-hearted. Everyone started fearing me more now.

And I finally saw what Y/N meant.

What if you snap one day?

That day was closer than I thought. Even though I became a much more accomplished mobster, there was one thing I couldn't do even if I tried— forget about the love of my life.

"Seb, it hurts." I was brought back to the real world. "What hurts, baby girl?" I whispered, pulling her closer. "Head. Stomach. Legs. Arms. Heart." I smiled sadly at the last word. "I'll help you heal, Y/N, you don't have to go anywhere until you're better." She nuzzled into my neck. "I'd like that."

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. "Come in," I called out, it was probably the doctor. Sure enough...

"Mr Stan? Oh, you have a guest." I tried to shift to make space for the doctor, but Y/N whimpered. "It's okay, Mr Stan, she clearly feels safer with you here." I placed Y/N on my lap, covering her with the blanket. "This is my friend, Y/N," I spoke fondly, though I really wanted to add 'girl' in front of 'friend'.

"Nice to meet you, dear, I am Dr Greenwood." With my help, he quickly ran some tests on her. "Hm, she has a fever, her heart rate is very fast and that's not good. Is there any other problem you're facing?" She nodded. "Headache and stomach ache."

"She claims to be poisoned," I added. "Oh dear me! I need to run a blood test, will you be so kind as to extend your right arm?" She did as he told her and he quickly took some blood. "Will she be fine?" I asked worriedly.

"Well, she seems to be doing okay currently, which means the poison hasn't affected her yet. How about I get back to you by the morning? Just keep an eye on her and if something happens, bring her to the hospital."

"Okay, doc. Thank you." He nodded and got up. "Bye!" Y/N called out weakly; he smiled at her and left, closing the door behind him. "You've got to tell me everything, doll," I whispered, putting her down on the couch. She lay down and I sat on the floor near her head.

"Okay, I will tell you. It was a few hours ago," she began quietly, "I was at home, watching the seventh season of Brooklyn Nine-Nine when someone rang the bell. When I opened the door, my ex burst into the room forcefully. He pushed me."

My breathing sped up. "He pushed you? How dare that asshole—"

"Let me finish?"

"Go ahead, love, I'm sorry."

"Right, so he was very very drunk. And he was talking about how I broke his heart by breaking up with him and how he was so mad at me that he wanted to kill me. In front of me, he popped open the bottle of beer with him and poured an entire bottle of poison in it! An entire bottle! Then he attacked me and pinned me to the couch, forcing me to drink the poisoned beer."

"How did you escape?" I whispered. "By kicking him in the balls. Unfortunately, I ended up gulping down a sip and panicked. Seeing no other choice, I pushed him as hard as I could and he collided with the table. He hurt himself and became unconscious. I ran out of the house to the first place I could think of— here."

"I'm glad you came to me, Y/N, you'll be perfectly safe here. Our security is top-notch," I chuckled. She smiled, too. "Where are Chris and Anthony?" she noticed. "They're in Romania. They decided to stay back."

"Wait, that's where you were this whole time? You didn't come to the bar again and until then, I found another job so I quit. I thought you would never come back. I missed you a lot," she pouted. "I missed you, too. I was actually in Romania for 3 months and when I came back, I couldn't find you. I didn't even know where you lived, I didn't know where to look."

"What matters is now we're back together again!" she squealed. "You should rest for a while," I muttered, running my fingers through her hair. I checked the time, it was almost 2 am. Laughing when she yawned, I sat up. "I guess I should."

"Come, I'll take you to your room." I stood up with Y/N still in my arms. "I don't wanna be alone," she worriedly spoke, "What if he's awake and comes looking for me and finds me here?"

"No one is finding you here," I sighed, "I'll stay with you, okay? Just tell me your address." Without thinking, she narrated her entire address and looked up at me with sleep-hooded eyes. I walked into the suite my people had readied for her and placed her down on the bed.

"I'm right here, just relax and try to sleep," I crooned, running my fingers through her hair. She immediately closed her eyes, which relieved me because she was listening now. When her soft snores filled the room, I heaved a breath and got up. Covering her with a blanket, I left the room, quietly closing the door behind me.

---

"This is the place," I spoke to myself, stopping my car under the building. I got out and entered, taking the elevator to the sixth floor where she lived. When I reached her apartment, I noticed that the door was still open. I walked in, my gun ready as I looked around the place. Wow, Y/N maintained this place well.

I searched every room thoroughly, starting with the living room, then the kitchen and then the two bedrooms. Shit, did the asshole leave? Y/N told me she left him in the living room. I was about to leave when I heard belching coming from one of the bathrooms. I opened the door to the one closest to me, only to see someone puking in the toilet.

"Ew," I whispered and he looked up. "What the fuck—" He flushed the toilet and wiped his mouth with the toilet paper, "—are you doing here?" I realized he was still under the effects of heavy drinking. "Y/N told me everything," I sneered, hiding my gun behind my back.

"She knows you? Pfft, I knew she was a whore, why would she leave me for a goddamn mobster? Everyone in the city hates you," he jeered back. "Um, why don't you consider this? You're an abusive and possessive asshole and Y/N left you because you obviously were treating her badly?" I snapped.

"Don't get smart with me," he snarled, taking out a knife from his back pocket. "Oh," he snorted when I glanced at the knife, "Yes, I came prepared to cut that bitch up if she tried to fight back." The language he was using to describe Y/N was getting to me now.

"Enough!" I stated firmly, so firmly that even he paused. "I will not have you talking about Y/N like this, you are crossing a line." He returned to laughing. "Care too much about one of your sluts? What is she, your girlfriend?" Okay, he didn't have to rub it in…

"I said—'' I whipped out the gun and pointed it at him, "—enough. If you don't stop badmouthing Y/N—" He interrupted me again by laughing. "Of course, you're gonna shoot me. You like to murder innocent people, that's all you are! A bloody, fucking cold-hearted murderer! Y/N would never leave me for a guy like you! She is your slut!" he spat.

"Are you listening to yourself?! You tried to fucking kill Y/N because she couldn't put up with your abusive ways and your disturbing habits! I do not kill innocent people and I don't plan on killing them ever," I growled, "However, I do make exceptions for abusive boyfriends who treat my friend wrong!"

With that, before he could retort, I fired three bullets at him. All three hit him in the chest and I watched as he fell against the floor, instantly dead. Some of his blood sprayed on my clothes and face, which made me scrunch up my face in disgust. But as I watched his lifeless body on the floor, a smile bloomed on my face.

Y/N was safe.

I checked myself in the bathroom mirror, washed my face and decided to go back. But before I could, I realized that Y/N would be spending some time with me and would need her necessities. So before leaving, I packed two full-sized travel bags with her clothes, electronics, footwears, toiletries and sanitation products; anything I deemed necessary for day-to-day living.

Soon, I left the apartment with the bags to go back to Y/N.

---

"Seb?"

I looked up from my book as Y/N sat up, yawning and clutching her head. "Y/N, the results came back, you're going to be fine," I told her happily, sitting down next to her. "Really?" A smile bloomed on her face. "Yes! Dr Greenwood said you didn't swallow too much poison and that you will most likely excrete the amount you swallowed." She nodded.

"That's great news! I'm glad he brought one of those cheap poisons instead of the deadly ones," she giggled. Just his mention made my temper snap. "Oh, don't even talk about that jerk," I snarled, "I took care of him last night and now he won't be bothering you anymore."

She blinked at me. "You killed him, didn't you?" she deadpanned and I blushed. "I mean— I didn't—" I stammered but gave up when she raised an eyebrow. "Yes, I killed him," I muttered, looking at my lap. When she placed her hand on my cheek, I turned to look. "I'm not mad at you. Bitch had it coming."

I burst out laughing at her word choice, which made her smile, too. All of a sudden, she leaped up and wrapped her arms around my neck, catching my lips in a kiss. I stopped laughing and put my arms around her waist, kissing back. Had this just happened? Was she kissing me?

"I love you, Sebastian," she murmured upon pulling away, straddling my lap. I kept the book away and pulled her closer. "Really? I love you, too." She snorted. "Kinda obvious, you killed a man for me. I wasn't going to make a move on you but now I'm sure."

"Hm, my intelligent sweetheart," I grinned, leaning forward to kiss her again. The problem was solved and all was well. "What are your plans for the day?" she asked me, trailing a finger down my face, jaw, neck and chest. "Hm, don't have any," I smirked, pulling her closer.

"Wanna stay and… have some fun?"

"Boy, do I?"

Y/N laughed loudly as I flipped us over, laying down on top of her. Her laughs soon transitioned into moans as I attacked her neck and jaw with kisses.

We did have fun.

A lot of it.

A bit too much of it.

But who cares?

I was finally with the love of my life and everything was good.

---

A/N: Leave a like if you enjoyed! Thanks for reading!

#sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan characters #bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier #disney #mcu #marvel #avengers #fanfic #writing #writeblr

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make-me-imagine · 4 years

Text

Grief

Sensory Prompts: ‘Hollow feeling in your chest when you feel sad’ + ‘Fingertips brushing hair from your face’

Requested by: Anon (2 years ago; BIG YIKES lol)

Pairing: Spock x reader

Gender: Neutral Words: 1,557

Triggers: Angst. Mentions of fighting, and fake character death.

Star Trek Taglist: @starfleetimagines

Sensory Prompts From here (written by me)

Note: I haven’t written angst in a while, so I hope this came out good.

As the water from the shower washed over you, you tried to relax, letting the warm water relax your body, the water stung as it ran over your cuts, but you didn’t care. Your eyes closed, but flashes of what happened on the planet kept bugging you.

Bringing your hands to your face you breathed out, trying to stop the memories from rushing taking over. Staring down at the drain, you see the dirt, grime and dried blood wash away, but the pain and guilt didn’t, as much as you wanted it to.

Stepping out of the shower, your chest seemed hollow, the empty weight of sadness filing you body, shoulders heavy, body sore. Your movements slow as you got dressed, and made your way to your bed, sitting down on the floor, back pressed against your bed as you stared at the walls around you. Finally letting the memories of what passed that day flood back.

*Flashbacks*

“This planet is amazing” you wondered out-loud, the rest of your away team gazing at the surroundings “Lets get some samples of these herbs, Dr. McCoy said they might prove useful”

“I wouldn’t mind living here” your friend Zamara said as they stood next to you, meeting your eyes as you shared a smile.

It seemed like such a peaceful planet; there were no signs of any life except small land creatures. The planet was covered in foliage and minerals. The mission was supposed to be simple, collect and study. Nothing was supposed to go wrong.

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“Y/n come in” Zamara’s voice was patchy, interference making it hard to understand them.

“What’s up?”

“I’m finding un..al readings coming from a cave to the south of yo- ..osition; I think it might be- rare ore interf-ng with the equ-ent, permission to inv-igate”

A strong feeling in the gut told you it wasn’t that, don’t let them go in alone “Wait for me, I’ll be there in a few minutes”

“Alright”

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“Leit- t- we’r under-...-mara....hurt-....help-”

You could hear distress in the ensigns voice as they tried to contact you. The sound of phaser fire coming through the coms, as well as from their location. Running to meet them, you rounded the corner, when you did you weren’t prepared for what you would see.

Two members of your away team were crouched behind a large rock, including the ensign who tried to talk to you.Your eyes landing on Zamara, on the ground, injured, but hopefully alive.

Next your gaze moved to the hostile aliens in the entrance to the cave, firing advanced weapons at your team.

You yelled at them, gaining their attention “Stand down! You are attacking a starfleet team, stand down!’

The aliens responded with more weapons fire at you. Tapping your com’s you called out “Away team to Enterprise, I repeat away team to enterprise!”

“This is Captain Kirk to away team, what’s going on down their y/n?”

“We are under attack Captain! Hostile aliens were in a cave that could not be scanned, one officer down, requesting back-up!”

“We’re coming Y/n, hold tight!”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

More weapons fire, yelling, an explosion. How did these aliens get such powerful weapons, and why are they here, why are they attacking?

Your train of thought was distracted as you were knocked to the ground from another blast the the cliff-side. Taking the chance as the aliens retreated a little further into the cave, re-charging their weapons. You ran to Zamara’s side, quickly grabbing them and dragging them behind a large boulder.

Checking their pulse you contacted starfleet again “Where’s my backup!?”

“We’re almost there Y/n, hold on” the voice was that of Spock’s, he was coming too. He was almost here, just hang on.

Your gaze landed on a nearby ensign, clearly dead. Your heart clenched as you felt a wave of grief and guilt. They were here because of you.

Peaking over the rock, you fired more at the aliens as they tried to advance.

“Y/n” the voice was quiet, staggered.

Looking down you see Zamara gaining consciousness as they stared up at you. “Hey, good you’re awake, just hold on”

“It was so sudden. They came..out of the cave....all at once-”

“Shh, shh, it’s okay, you can tell me later, just hold on, ach!”

You crouched down as a blast hit the stone in front of you, sending sharp stones blasting through the air. You grunted, anger and fear rising in your chest.

Hearing the explosive weapon charging again, you felt fear grip you. Grabbing a hold of your friends shoulder, you pulled them back before shielding them with your body.

The explosion was quick and loud, sending both you and your friend tumbling. As the debris from the stone fell down on top of you. You grunted as you struggled to see around you. Looking down at your friend you turned them over “Hey, Zamara are you-”

Your breath hitched in your throat as you saw them. Eyes open, but no life left in them. You checked their pulse, only to find nothing. Your heart seemed to crumble in your chest as your friends non-gazing eyes met your own.

Hearing something behind you, you look up, seeing a weapon pointed directly into your face. The aggressive stare of one of the aliens peering into your eyes.

Just as you thought you were about to die, the alien was shot down, your gaze landing on Spock running towards you, the Captain himself and other officers behind him, firing and protecting the rest of your team.

Spock kneeling down next to you, checked the pulse of your friend. Feeling nothing, and realizing they were dead, his eyes met your own, seeing the repressing grief deep in you eyes.

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The scanner was being waved over your body by Dr McCoy as Spock and Captain Kirk watched from nearby. Another medical officer patching the cuts you had acquired during the attack. The rest of your team being treated by others. Your away team consisted originally of 7, now consisted of 4.

You had experienced death before. Seen innocent starfleet officer’s lives taken. But this was the first time you knew them, this was the first time it was your team. This was the first time you lost a friend. A very good friend.

This was the first time you tried to save a friend, and failed.

*Now*

A tear rolled down your cheek as you came back to the present, your eyes burning from the sadness that was finally taking over. Memories of Zamara’s death plaguing you.

You almost didn’t hear the signal at your door, the persistent knocking, not until you heard a familiar muffled voice from the other side.

“Y/n, are you in there?” You could hear the concern in Spock’s voice. An emotion he only ever shows for a few.

You didn’t rise from the floor, but instead called out “Come in”, unsure if he really heard you.

The doors sliding open almost immediately told you he did. As he stepped inside, the door sliding closed behind him. His gaze roamed over the room before landing on your form on the floor.

Hair still wet, eyes red, tear presently rolling down your cheek. A deep feeling of regret and pain moved through Spock’s body as he slowly approached you. You looked so fragile, and tired.

Kneeling down in front of you, he met your eyes for a long moment before his hand slowly rose, as he brushed aside a piece of hair from your face, his fingertips gently gliding across your skin before he tucked the hair behind your ear.

Next, he brought his hand to your face, gently wiping way the tears still present on your face. His voice came out quietly, gentle “I’m sorry. I...know, you must be hurting, and grieving for Zamara, but. I need to make sure you know that this wasn’t your fault.” his eyes stared deeply and softly into your own “There was no way for you or your team to know of the aliens presence. No matter what guilt you might be feeling, it is false. This was not your fault, and no one involved believes it to be.”

Another tear fell down your cheek, immediately stopped by Spock’s hand as he wiped it away. He wished he could take the pain away, teach you to push it down until it fades, but he knew you were too...human, to do that. He knew that you needed to grieve, and he insisted he be there to help you through it.

Though it took him a while after the two of you entered into a relationship, to admit he loved you. He really did. And he would be there for you through whatever happens, just as you were there for him.

He felt a pang of relief as you moved forward, wrapping your arms around him as you pulled him closer. Spock wrapped his arms around you as well as he now sat fully on the floor, pulling you closer as he let you cling to him. He was relieved when you started to cry, relieved that you trusted him enough to show him this part of you.

And you felt the weight of grief and guilt lift, not all the way, but slowly beginning to fade as Spock wrapped his arms around you and continued to quietly comfort you. Reminding you again and again that it wasn’t your fault, and that he was there, and he wouldn’t leave you alone, ever.

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Hope you guys liked it, not sure if it was super angsty, but I tried lol.

If you’d like to be added to a taglist for any character or fandom let me know.

Also, please consider reblogging, as that is one of the best ways to help share creators work past their followers!~ Comments and likes are appreciated as well :) <3

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thebadbatch · 3 years

Text

The Bad Batch: Soft Universe

Chapter 6 - Medic.

A large amount of time and rest had passed throughout the ship along with a large conversation that was hosted by the brothers about Omega's apparent force abilities. They had all simultaneously agreed to try and test this out whilst Tech tinkered with AZI in the back during the early hours of the morning.

"Any luck?" Crosshair spoke, staring at Tech who had laid himself against the floor who was currently fiddling with several wires that fell from the droid Omega adored so much.

"Some." He mumbled in response, "I'll be able to access hidden records with a little more time but to fully awaken him I'm going to need weeks." Wrecker soon turned toward the conversation, a little worried about what they may find in her hidden records. He knew they had no choice and Omega was fine with it but still - he wasn't looking forward to finding out how they experimented on her.

"Will you be getting that info today?" He asked, Crosshair turning to him with a sigh. Truth be told, they were all worried. Tech grinned as an excited 'aha!' left his lips, standing in the process.

"Yes." He confirmed as a blue hologram filled with various loads of writing and numbers appeared before them. "Hunter, Echo - You're going to want to see this." The other two brothers approached, all simultaneously crowding over the droid. Tech browsed through muttering the words under his breath.

"What's it talking about?" Wrecker exclaimed, a little Impatient but almost too afraid to ask. Tech typed a little something before turning to face his brothers.

"She is force - sensitive and they know it worked." Tech took a breath in, "They lied to her and said it didn't work because the force became too powerful with her - they were afraid and kept testing on her. The misery she kept going through kept her from connecting with the force as she had to have a relaxed state of mind and they never allowed that to happen. However, now she's with us the force has finally been re-connecting with her and what happened yesterday was it finally making itself known to her." His rant finally ended as her brothers shared various shocked and even confused ones.

"She's a jedi?" Echo questioned, rubbing his head. Nothing was ever Simple for this small family but they wouldn't have it any other way.

"No." Tech scrolled through the text a little more, "The force didn't come to her naturally, she brought it to herself - well Kamino did. This results in her just being a force user, not a jedi." They all just remained in Silence whilst Echo re-lived all of the moments he spent along jedi.

"Won't she need appropriate training?" His question made Hunter sigh a little.

"None of us are exactly qualified to train her with the force." He drew a sharp breath inward as he ran his finger tips through his strands of longer hair. "Blasters are no Problem, but the force?" He just shook his head as Wrecker piped up.

"Does she even need training?" Tech growled in anger as the screen ALI was displaying suddenly sparked and cut out rather drastically, flinching a little at the light.

"Damn droids." Grabbing his data pad he hummed as he typed a little more, rapidly tapping at the screen with a sigh, grateful that he backed up the medical records onto his datapad prior to it working. "Omega will need to be provided with some sort of training to control it, otherwise she may fall toward what they refer to as the 'dark side of the force.' This means she may end up with the Empire if fuelled by anger."

"The Empire?" Hunter snarled at Tech, "How could you even suggest that she would betray us like that?"

"You thought I did." Crosshair interjected with a glare, his arms crossed whilst chewing against his toothpick.

"That's because you did." Hunter Snapped back, pushing against his chest. Echo soon pulled Hunter away from him, Signalling for Wrecker to Stand between them.

"There currently Isn't anything to worry about, from my research she's very clearly Strong with the light side of the 'Force', which is our side." Echo noticed the sigh of relief with a mumbled apology for Crosshair who just nodded in response.

"Hunter?" Omega's voice appeared behind them which featured a light gown. "Is everything okay?" The constant hum of the Havoc Marauder could be heard as the hushed shouts and bundles of Spoken Information had been hushed. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah kid!" He smiled toward her, "We're just talking about your enhanced skill."

"You are?" All of that Sleepiness left her voice as she rushed over to her brothers who couldn't help but Smile at their little force wielder. "What about it?"

"We're beginning to discuss your training regiment." Tech Spoke, adjusting his goggles a little. "Your new abilities need to continue to be Controlled as you're their wielder." She stood in thought for a moment before gazing back up toward him.

"Who's gonna train me?" The members of the batch exchanged Various gazes toward one another, unsure who it would be. "And how am I supposed to train? A blaster wouldn't work would it?" Crosshair just smirked at her enthusiasm for weapons, she definitely got that from him.

"Echo would train you as he's been with more force-sensitive People then we have and you'd train with your mind, not just your blaster." She pouted a little before Crosshair rolled his eyes, blasters would always be better to him.

"With my mind?" She was confused but very optimistic regardless. All of this felt new to her as any previous training within Nala Se's lab remained repressed in her mind, locked away and definitely not being released any time soon. " How am I supposed to do that?" Echo just chuckled at her, ruffling her hair through her moment of confusion and wonder.

"Don't worry, kid." Echo remembered what the basics were through overhearing and learning about their abilities from others. He knew that She'd be able to expand her skillset alone without any further training after he helped her nail the basics. "You'll do great and I'll teach you as much as I can alright?" Echo's words alone brought a smile to her face before the ship's control panel began to beep, Tech rushing over to approve the signal with Cid shortly appearing on a hologram.

"Cid?" Wrecker asked as they all made their way around the message. "Fancy meeting you here!" Everybody heard her sigh before seriousness coated her voice.

"Listen up, I know you can't come back to Ord Mantell for a while because of the kid and that's alright- but I have a mission for you all if you're willing to accept." Everybody's eyes soon turned toward Hunter, they knew he was the one who picked if we were to accept a mission or not.

"What've you got?" He replied curiosity leaking out of his voice, moving closer toward the hologram with his arms still folded against him.

"I need you guys to go to Geonosis to grab a droid and take it into your care for a while until you can return it to me at Ord Mantell." Ci'd smiled before waving a box of credits toward them all. "And this will all be yours - don't worry I'll keep it Safe."

"A droid?" Tech hummed, "What's it doing at Geonosis?" she sighed, snarling her voice a little, shaking her head.

"Shut your mouth goggles, I thought I told you not to ask any questions? Just go and get the droid and then you'll get your credits. I'll send you all the information." With that, the hologram disappeared and they were left in rather confused silence.

"Why did she send us on a mission to just collect a droid?" Echo asked, pretty annoyed.

"I'm not sure, but it seemed worth the credits offered." Hunter replied, running his fingers through his hair. "We're desperate so at least it's simple enough." A beep echoed throughout the attack shuttle, Techs datapad lit up at the information received.

"Okay I have the coordinates, shall we get this over with?" He mumbled, tapping away and examining the map. "This will truly be thrilling." His voice dripped with sarcasm as he requested everybody to take their assigned seats with Hunter next to him.

"Alright, let's go then." He hummed, rapidly typing in the hyperspace coordinates before the stars became blurred - one of Omega's favourite things to see. The universe was fascinating to her and it always would be. Being trapped on Kamino in a small lab, she never had the luxury of exploring the universe around her until now with her brothers - any mission to her was a welcome one.

"So what's the plan?" Omega asked, gazing toward Hunter who always controlled that aspect.

"We're going to go into the cave system quickly and quietly. Tech I want you to focus on the map and keep us guided. Wrecker, you need to keep our path clear. Echo and Crosshair I want you to stick with me in case we get any unwelcome visitors." His plan was light and cleared the simple mission they were believed to be going on, knowingly arriving soon.

"But what's my job?" She asked, worried she'd have to stay back on the ship again.

"You?" Hunter smiled, "You're our Medic."

#Omega #Medic #the bad batch #Tbb #Fanfiction #Tech #Crosshair #Wrecker #Echo #Hunter #Clone force 99

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milazka · 4 years

Text

𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 | 𝐉𝐉 𝐌𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤

𝑖𝑚𝑎𝑔𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 𝑜𝑛 𝑝𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑡

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 : 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭 & 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 : 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 𝟑𝐤+

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 : —

𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 : 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐚 𝐭𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐧

𝐚/𝐧 : 𝐢 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞 𝐚 𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐨 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐚 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠. 𝐢 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐢𝐭 ! 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨, 𝐢 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐢𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬, 𝐢’𝐦 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲!

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐚 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬...

─── °• ❀ ───

When I first saw you, I saw love

And the first time you touched me, I felt love

And after all this time

You're still the one I love

The stars were twinkling in the indigo sky, not a single cloud was covering them. Some firebrands were trying to rise towards the sky but were dying along the way. The warm flames of the fire made your cheeks redden, although, the bottle of cheap beer in your hand must have been partly to blame as well. It was normal in the Outer Banks to see fourteen-year-olds drinking alcohol, especially on the Cut.

Sitting on one of the logs, a smile slipped on your lips as you saw your friend Pope running towards the sea, completely naked. A few of your friends whistled at the boy who let out a scream as he entered the salty water. John B had the brilliant idea to play truth or dare with the Pogues and a few other people from The Cut. You all had finished school today and it was a way of celebrating the beginning of summer.

Like she always did, Kiara acted up like the ‘mama’ of the group and got up to threw her beach towel to Pope so he could dry himself before returning into the circle around the campfire.

“Y/n, truth or dare?” A boy named David asked you.

“Dare.” You answered before you took a sip of beer without taking your eyes off him.

“I dare you to kiss JJ.”

You spit out your beer, splashing John B on the way. You were expecting everything, but not this. JJ was your best friend, you couldn't kiss him, it would have been weird.

“I can’t.“

“Oh c’mon, Y/n! Don’t be a prude.” David shouted to provoke you.

You've never been a coward in your life and this wasn't the night you were going to start being one. Everyone started to cheer you, shouting and clapping their hands while you made your way to the other side of the fire where JJ was sit on a log. Your eyes met his ocean-blue eyes that were sparkling from the number of beer cans he had drunk since the beginning of the night. You knelt on the sand with your hands resting on JJ's knees so you wouldn't lose your balance. The alcohol flowing in your veins was taking effect and you were definitely tipsy.

“It’s just a kiss, Y/n/n.” JJ said, cupping your face with his hands as he leaned down. “It means nothing.”

His lips gently touched yours, almost as if he was afraid of hurting you with them. He tasted like a mix of weed and beer, a taste you would have normally hated, but which kind of turned you on in the moment. You felt the tip of his thumb flattering your skin as his tongue slipped into your mouth to move in sync with yours. A feeling of emptiness settled inside you when you separated from each other, completely out of breath. Your eyes met his and for a second, everything around you seemed to have stopped.

─── °• ❀ ───

Lying on the dock, your head resting on JJ's stomach as he ran his fingers through your hair, you couldn't help but think back to the way you felt when your lips collided the other night.

"What's on your mind?" JJ asked you, clearly seeing something was bothering you by the way you were chewing on the inside of your cheek.

“Nothing.”

“Y/n, your my best friend and you’re also the worst liar that I know.” He giggled, making you bless your poor lying talents.

“You remember when we kissed yesterday?”

“Yeah.” He whispered, placing his arm behind his head so he could lay rest on it. “It doesn’t change anything between us, if it’s what bothering you.”

"No no, it's not that..." You replied, playing with the edge of your hoodie.

“Then what is it? You know you can tell me everything, Y/n.”

"I don't want it to mean nothing because it was my first kiss." You whispered, willfully neglecting to tell him you had found out that your feelings towards him were more than just friendly.

“Really? I thought you kissed John B during seven minutes in heaven.” JJ said, surprised.

“We made everyone believe that we did because he wanted to make one of the girls jealous." You explained, sitting cross-legged on the wooden dock to face JJ.

“Well, I’m glad I was your first kiss, it’s definitely a much better experience to kiss me than John B.” He laughed, pulling you into a hug.

At that moment, you couldn't be more grateful that the lights were all off because your cheeks were peony red. While still in JJ's arms, you made a promise to yourself that you would never let your feelings for him get in the way of your friendship because it was the most precious thing you had.

Looks like we made it

Look how far we've come my baby

We mighta took the long way

We knew we'd get there someday

Like most days of the summer, you were sitting at the front of the HMS Pogue driven by John B. He came to pick you up first since you were the one who lived closest to the Chateau. Since his father's disappearance, you had gotten closer; you were there to listen to him when he needed it or to comfort him when he cried late at night. This had caused you and JJ to drift apart a little, but it was better that way, especially for your feelings towards him. He was still your best friend, the most important person in your life, but over the past few months, girls had become his top priority and your heart was breaking a little more each time he told you and the Pogues about his steamy nights.

JJ was sitting on the side of the boat, rolling one of his joint. It was probably the moment when the boy was most concentrated, you had never seen him frown his eyes brows like this during an exam. John B slowed the boat down as you approached Pope's dock. Dressed in his infamous cap and barely buttoned shirt, he was sweeping the quay under his father's stern gaze.

“Pope, get in, we’re goin fishin!” You exclaimed as you slid your sunglasses over the tip of your nose.

“I can't, I'm grounded because I came home after curfew yesterday.” The boy pouted, glancing at his father.

“Okay, we’ll see you later!” You replied before JJ or John B spoke, not wanting to get your friend in more trouble.

Once you were far enough into the marsh, John B dropped the anchor in the water. The sun was particularly hot that day, obliging you to take off all of your clothes and just be in a black bikini. JJ also took off his sleeveless shirt, exposing you to the sight of his tanned and perfectly cut body. Thanks to your sunglasses, you were able to check him out without him noticing. Your eyes landed on the scratches on his back when he turned away from you to grab a beer in the cooler.

“Did you sleep with a tiger last night?” John B mocked him when he saw the scratches.

"Dude, she was so into me! I made her come twice in-" JJ started but was cut off by your forced cough. “What?”

"Nothing, the beer didn't go down well." You said innocently, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to run down the corners of your eyes.

The blond boy kept telling you and John B about his night with the wild girl, never forgetting to mention all the details. A sharp pain appeared in your chest, as if your heart was being torn in two, when he said he was planning on bringing her on a date soon. It was too much, you couldn't take it anymore.

“Fuck, my mom just texted me that she needs me at home.” You lied. “Could you drop me at my dock?”

"Yes, I'll pull up the anchor and we will be good to go." John B kindly smiled at you, knowing that it was just an excuse to get away from JJ, but didn't said a word about it.

─── °• ❀ ───

The trees seemed to be moving on either side of the road which did not look as straight as usual. Everything was a bit blurry around you until you blinked a few times. The almost empty rum bottle in your hand was the cause of this. Since you came home this afternoon, you'd drowned your emotions in alcohol, the best way to stop feeling anything according to a reliable source; you. You don't remember how or when you decided to leave your cozy bed to end up on the dirt road leading to the Chateau. When you reached the front of the house, you made your way to the backyard, taking a few sips of the cursed liquid that burned your throat.

"Y/n? What are you doing here?" JJ's voice reached your ears, almost making you drop your bottle on the floor.

You were standing on the stairs of the house porch so your back was facing him since he was lying in one of the hammocks. Your hand tightened around the glass bottle as you brought it to your lips one more time.

“I-i’m here to see JB…” You managed to say, despite the sob that was caught in your throat.

“You know he’s at Sarah’s house, he told you this afternoon.” JJ said.

You could hear his footsteps getting closer to where you were, making your heart rhythm increase.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” He asked you gently putting his hands on your bare shoulder.

“Don’t call me that!” You exploded in anger as you pulled away from his embrace.

“What the fuck Y/n?! Are you drunk? Did I do something wrong?” JJ questioned you, his frowning eyebrows reflecting his misunderstanding.

“Did you do something wong? DID YOU DO SOMETHING WRONG?! You are fucking blind, Maybank.” You shouted at him, staring at him with guns in your eyes. “I've been repressing my feelings for two years, two fucking years! Every time I see you leave with a girl after a party, my heart breaks in a million pieces. And when you talk about what you do with girls, I envy them because I wish it was me. I wish it was me you were talking about with stars in your eyes, I wish it was me you were kissing so passionately, I wish it was me you would hold in your arms.”

You were breathing heavily, tears were running down your cheeks and you couldn't control them. JJ was speechless, shocked by what you just revealed to him.

“Y/n…”

“Don’t say it J. I can’t take it anymore.” You whined, not wanting to hear him reject you.

Without trying to glance at him, you walked towards the main street, ashamed of what you had just said to him. You couldn't take it back, you would have to deal with it once you'll have sober up and that wasn't appealing at all. It was once you were walking in the middle of the main road that he stood in front of you, putting his hands on your shoulders to keep you from moving. Head bent down towards the ground, you didn't have the strength to lift it up to face his gaze.

“Please, look at me.” JJ whispered, softly placing his fingers under your chin to lift it up.

Your eyes blurred by the tears met his ocean gaze through which you could get lost for hours. A soft smile made his way to the corner of his lips, those damn lips you had dreamt about more than once.

“I’m sorry for hurting you, I never thought that you had feelings for me.” He apologized, rubbing his thumb on your cheek drenched by the tears.

"I don't want to lose you, Jay. Just forget what I said and let's go back to being best friends." You sighed as you wiped the corner of your eyes with the back of your sleeve.

“I can’t, Y/n, I can’t forget about what you just said because I’m fucking in love with you!” He exclaimed, a tear running down his cheek. “I never said anything because I didn't want to ruin our friendship. I never go further than one date with the girls I sleep with because my heart has always been taken by you.”

You didn't waste one more second before you crushed your lips against his. Your hands made their way to the back of his neck while his hands slipped automatically to your hips, pulling you closer to him. It was passionate and wild, you'd been waiting for this moment for so long, you had needed this moment for so long. His tongue requested access to your mouth and came dancing sensually with yours. A grunt slipped out of his mouth when you bit his lower lip while running your fingers through his blond hair that were still a bit wet from his surfing session with John B. Breathing heavily, you split up briefly before he hugged you tightly, your head lying on his chest that was rising promptly.

“I’m never letting you go again, sweetheart.”

They said, "I bet they'll never make it"

But just look at us holding on

We're still together still going strong

Tears were flowing down your cheeks and there was nothing you could do about it. The sight of your boyfriend shocked face while you were being handcuffed like him for a crime you didn't commit was destroying him. You both were in the wrong place at the wrong time, but the cops wouldn't listen. Being from the Cut had its good sides, but also its bad sides and being constantly doubted by the police was one of them.

“Get in the car.” Ordered Deputy Shoupe, opening the back door of his car.

You didn't even dare to think about what your parents were going to say when they would found out that you we're being held in custody. They had never approved of your relationship with JJ, telling you he would bring you more trouble than love. Your father always said that your relationship wasn't going to last, that it was temporary because you would realize soon that JJ wasn't good enough for you.

Once you were sitting on the uncomfortable little bed of the cell, you let your head fall back against the cemented wall. Eyelids close, you let a long sigh exit; you couldn't believe that what was supposed to be a cute date with your boyfriend turned into nightmare when you ran into Rafe and his two pocket dogs.

“Baby?” Your boyfriend’s voice echoed from the cell beside yours. “I’m sorry for getting you in trouble.”

“Hey, none of this is your fault, love.” You rectified him as you made your way to the grid and passed your hand through it.

JJ's hand slipped into yours, squeezing it to comfort you a little. Just his touched made you feel a bit better and more confident.

“We’re gonna make it, Jay, we’re gonna prove them wrong.”

You're still the one I run to

The one that I belong to

You're still the one I want for life

You're still the one that I love

The only one I dream of

You're still the one I kiss good night

Morpheus arms were about to grab you as you let yourself go to sleep. You were somewhere between the world of dreams and reality when a boom in your window made you jump. Another knock against your window forced you to get up quickly, not wanting to wake your parents who were sleeping in the next room. You narrowly avoided a worn black boot by bending down quickly after opening your window.

“JJ? What the hell?” You whispered loudly at the sight of your boyfriend standing on the ground down your window.

“Get dressed and join me.” He simply said to you with his stupid smile. “And don’t ask questions.”

You quickly put on a pair of mom jeans, your eternal orange converses and a hoodie that belonged to JJ. The scent of your boyfriend soaked in the cotton made you smile stupidly; it was your favorite odor. Without making any noise, you closed the front door behind you and went straight to JJ who was already on his bike, helmet in hand.

“Where are you taking me?” You asked as you passed the helmet over your head.

“You’ll see. Now, hop on, baby and hold on tight.”

You wrapped your arms around his waist, using the opportunity to feel his contracted muscles over tin shirt. The wind was pounding against your skin, waking you up. Riding with JJ on his bike was one of your favorite thing to do, it felt like the world was yours.

You loosen your embrace around his waist when he decelerated in the middle of nowhere. The road was only lit by an old lamppost, no sound could be heard besides the sound of your own heartbeat.

“What are we doing here?” You asked the blond boy as he grabbed your hand.

He didn't say a word, leading you to the middle of the road where he turned to face you.

“Exactly one year ago today, we shared our first real kiss here.” He smiled at you. “Happy one year anniversary, my love.”

Your heart melted when you heard him say those words. You tiptoed yourself so you could press your lips against his. He pulled you closer to him, his hands sliding under his hoodie that you were wearing. The coldness of his hands against your warm skin sent shivers down your spine. You rested you forehead on his, getting lost inside his blue eyes.

“I love you, Jay.”

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yzkhr · 3 years

Text

A Christmas oneshot featuring Shinichi and Sonoko with a little bit of Shinran as well

May everyone enjoy the rest of the year and Happy Holidays!

"So," the twenty two year-old Suzuki Sonoko asked for the nth time as she peeks out of the dressing room, yawning as she languidly modeled a pink ribboned dress, "remind me again why I'm here at the mall shopping for fancy outfits instead of sleeping in my day off? And with you of all people."

The man in question, former highschool detective now a respected police officer Kudo Shinichi, shooked his head and looked at the dress with dissaprovement before answering.

"Because, it's almost Christmas and I need to give Ran something." he then picked out another pink dress from the rack, this time it's off shoulder and too lacy for Sonokos' taste. "How about this one?"

"Why do I need to be here then? It's not like I know Ran more than you do. You guys literally moved in together as soon as you turned eighteen." It was now her turn to disagree as she glared rather offensively at the outfit. Shinichi being the receiver of such look all throughout his life, got the message and brings it back to where it was five seconds ago.

"I've been giving Ran all the stuff she wanted since we were little kids. I'm running out of ideas you know." he admitted with his face slightly flushed at the mention of their immediate live in, as if remembering everyones' knowing looks back when they first announced it.

She grinned, catching on to what the detective is trying to get to (Or at least what she interprets he's trying to get through) "So, what you're saying is, that you need my amazing skills and judgement as someone who not only has the best fashion sense in Beika but also as Rans' one and only bestfriend?"

The woman compliments herself and walked across to choose from two blouses on the nearest shelf that caught her eyes as she acts unbothered while Shinichis' face turned sour.

"I knew I should've just called Haibara for help." he mumbled under his breath, eyebrows twitching at sight of his overconfident childhood friend. His complaint didn't go unheard however, as the Suzuki Heiress' head turned at the sound, eyes sharp and accusing.

"What did you say?" voice low and threatening, she asked. Shinichi could have answered honestly and annoy her enough for her to leave right then and there but he remembered, that if Sonoko were to leave through the shops' doors, so would his chances of suprising and making Ran happy with his present.

So, with the thought of satisfying his girl, he gulped down both his saliva and repressed pride as he puts on a facsimile of a smile.

"I said, 'yes, you're absolutely right Suzuki-san.'" Sonoko seemed to buy his false agreement as her face broke into a smile of triumph, treading through one of the clothing racks while laughing as if she won the loterry.

Shinichi on the other hand reaches out to his phone, contemplating whether he should just call Haibara over. But then he decided against it, coming to the conclusion that he rather handle a proud woman he had known all his life, than another proud woman who he had only been aware of for about a quarter of it.

Wary and defeated, he sighed as he followed. "Let's just get this over with."

After debating and choosing among hundreds of clothes and outfits for literal hours, it's hard for Sonoko to pretend and act oblivious when all the eyes and peeking they keep receiving from different women started becoming full on stares. What's even more uncomfortable would be the fact that she's not even supposed to be the one bothered but the man beside her!

Well, she can't blame them. It is rare for a man to be in store specifically made for women. She remembered how she once brought Makoto in a boutique and all she got were cute skirts and an embarrassed karate boyfriend on the way home.

The ladies were too expressive however, that even she can't help but feel restless. Most girls gaze at the detective with eyes clearly full of admiration, some with an uneasy amount of lust Sonoko just had to look away from, others even fuss and giggle around in groups, their topic so painfully obvious with the way they steal glances every now and then.

It makes her want to raise an eyebrow all day long, wondering what these females and specially her bestfriend saw in this man that she just couldn't figure out. To Suzuki Sonoko, Kudo Shinichi was, is, and always will be a mystery nerd with—she'll have to admit— good looks, intelligent mind, high morale, but unfortunately, possesses an insensitive and sarcastic personality she can't take ( even though ironically, his personality is too similar to her own).

But, then again, as she watches him put intense effort into judging and observing every attire in his view with undivided attention as if uncovering a crime scene when in fact, it's only about finding a Christmas gift all the while remaining innocent from the various gaping all around him, Sonoko almost thought Ran is also lucky to have him as a boyfriend.

Almost.

Wanting to distract herself, she attempts to converse. " What are you trying to find exactly? We've been here for hours and we still can't find something good enough for your taste."

He flinched, startled at the sudden voice. Once recovered, puts his hand on his jaw and looks up to the ceiling, similar to when he tries to piece together objects and clues that doesn't have any connections at the surface.

"Hmm, I want a present that, you know, when she opens it, she'll be really impressed. But I also want it simple since Ran's not a fan of grand plannings. She's always so extra and thoughtful when it comes to giving but hates receiving anything like them. So, I want a gift she'll absolutely love but won't complain about how expensive or time consuming it is."

The way a certain detective says his words while wearing an expression Sonoko only ever had the chance of seeing when their childhood friend is involved makes her want to tease but she keeps quiet instead, letting him keep his pride.

The brown haired woman laughed and silently agreed at his sentiment. Ran had always been so creative when it comes to preparing other peoples' present but feels guilty when they do the same. It was honestly endearing.

"Then, why a dress? Why not a book? Ran loves books, doesn't she?" she wondered. Shinichi shooks his head at the suggestion. "She's been too busy lately. I'm pretty sure she won't even have a chance of opening it."

"Then plan her a vacation!" he deadpanned and reminded her. "She doesn't like grand thing, remember?"

"A romantic date?"

"Did that on our first year together."

"Watch a movie?"

"Too simple."

" Expensive dinner?"

"Done with that on our third year."

"Aaah!" Sonoko whined in frustration. "I don't know, kiss or make out with her on Christmas or something!" she finally blurted out, having no ideas left whatsoever.

A few seconds of silence between the two passed and realization kicks in. Worried at how suddenly unresponsive Shinichi is, Sonoko glances to apologize if she angered him at her careless outburst.

"I'm sorry! It was a joke--Shinichi-kun?" her words died out, distress turning into confusion. Rather than a glare or an indifferent countenance, she was met by a very flustered Shinichi, with all the blood in his body seemingly gathering at his face while his eyes looks at anywhere but hers. With that, Sonoko slowly made a deduction.

"Y-you already did it?" ever so quietly she asks in disbelief. When his face got even redder than before, she got her unspoken confirmation.

With that, Sonoko laughed.

Her uncontrollable cackling attracted everyone's attention, including the dazed detective who stood up almost instantaneously, aware of his unconscious slip-up.

"B-Barou! W-We never did such a thing! Your sudden vulgarity just surprised me!" his cover ups were left unheard, as the Suzuki's Heiress guffaws were too loud.

Suddenly, Sonoko got an idea.

She stopped laughing, but the smile on her face foreshadowed a terrible feeling to Shinichi, who wanted nothing more but to go home, away from embarrassment. She runs off before he can even stop her from further humiliation she'll surely cause.

He inhaled and exhaled, trying to calm himself down and lose the apparent redness of his visage. His little breathing exercise proved to be useless however, with Sonoko coming back holding something that made his face as reddest it had ever been, even comparable to the blood he sees on the crime scenes.

On Sonokos' hands lay the thinnest piece of clothing he had ever seen, with it's laces and uncomfortably soft looking silk barely even covering anything but the important parts. It didn't help how seductive the color was, crimson, just like his face right now as he stared at it. Out of all the things the woman could have brought him, it had to be this. It just had to be a fucking lingerie.

"Wha--" he started but was cut off with her mouth that Shinichi begged she should've just shut.

"I found the perfect gift! And it's even red!" she held it up even more, showing a clearer picture that Shinichi didn't know if he regrets seeing.

"You--"

"It's simple but I assure you that Ran would love it!"

"So--"

"What's even better, is that not only will she love it, you'll love it too--"

He thankfully, thankfully, cuts her off, not only being heard by the everyone in the store, but probably the entire shopping mall of Beika.

"SONOKO!"

He really should've just called Haibara. Or better yet, cooked a fancy dinner for Ran as a Christmas gift instead.

#DCMK #I don't know why i did this but I personally like it 😂#An unappropriate Christmas gift to you all #Suzuki Sonoko #Kudo Shinichi #More interations for two please

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fanmoose12 · 3 years

Text

Partners

Characters: Petra Ral, Levi, Hanji Zoe x Levi Genre: Action / Mystery / Romance Rating: T

Detective!au

Summary: when Petra was promoted to a detective and partnered up with legendary Levi Ackerman, she felt like the happiest person in the world.

But, as she soon found out, detective Ackerman she used to admire so much was actually a far cry from the ideal policeman Petra thought he was. He was rude, harsh and easily annoyed. And, in addition, he still hadn’t moved on from the death of his previous partner - detective Hange Zoe.

Chapter 7/?

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Сhapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

It was a recurring dream of hers.

She was sitting behind the desk in a room she couldn’t recognize. There were three other desks there, a big shelf, filled with documents and a black, leather coach. On a desk in front of her, there was a computer, a dozen of folders, pens and used coffee cups scattered around, and on the edge stood a plate. For some reason, Hange was sure that her name was written on it. There was another plate, which was propped up on a desk that was set beside hers. Hange took it in her hands numerous times, trying to see what name was written there. The letters were always too blurry for her to understand.

Evidently, she was inside an office of some sort. The place seemed familiar, extremely so. Hange knew that there was a small crack in the window behind her desk, she knew that her chair creaked whenever she shifted her sitting position, she knew that the best tea was kept on a lower shelf.

And despite all the evidence that she knew this place, she couldn’t remember if she had ever been here. Or who she shared this office with.

In her hands she held a photo album and her fingers slowly traced one picture after another. Each page showed different groups of people – there were a lot of them, but there were only two men, who appeared at each photo. One was tall and blonde, the other one – short and dark-haired. Hange was hugging them in each picture, her face shining with happiness.

The men, however, had no faces.

Out of the dozen people who stood next to Hange on these photos, no one had a face. They were just silhouettes, blurry and hazy.

Same as Hange’s memory of them.

She knew they were important, knew that she loved them, dearly so, but she couldn’t remember them. She didn’t know who they were, she forgot their names and faces, couldn’t recall how their voices sounded like or how they took their coffee. Her mind was like a book that once was filled with memories. But now all the pages were torn out, leaving just the title and the beginnings of first chapter.

It pissed Hange off, it left her frustrated and confused. Who were these people? Were they colleagues? Friends? Family? If they were so close to her, where were they now? Why weren’t they still by her side? Had they left her? Why was she left behind?

These questions tormented Hange. Every time she woke up after that dream, she couldn’t help but ponder upon it, desperately searching for an answer. That’s why she hated this dream so much, it wasn’t as bad as the others ones - the ones about fire and child’s screams and— no, these were the worst, always making Hange wake up in the middle of the night with a hoarse scream on her lips. Dreams about her forgotten life weren’t much better, though. They made her feel so uneasy because—

Because she missed them. She didn’t know these people, had no clear memory of them, but still her heart ached to see them. There was a longing inside her so severe she felt like there was a huge hole in her chest. She had so many feelings, so much love to give—

But there was no one she could share that love with.

Usually, after a dream like that, Hange was reluctant to leave her bed. She could spend literal hours, chewing on her thumb and trying to regain what was lost. Sometimes she could almost see it, the beginning of a memory, a flash of something familiar, but it always ended there, never reaching anything conclusive. Didn’t stop her from trying, though.

This morning, however, was vastly different. This morning, the time for pondering was cut off abruptly, when someone had woken Hange up by roughly kicking the leg of her bed.

She woke up immediately. For a second she was confused, and then— then she got angry. She opened her eyes and put on her glasses, preparing the deadliest of glares for whoever had deigned to disturb her sleep.

Of course. It was stupid Floch. Hange threw a pillow at him, aiming right at his idiotic face. It hit him right in the center of his ugly forehead. If she wasn’t so pissed off, Hange would have laughed at his perplexed expression.

“The fuck are you doing here?” she asked furiously. “How many times do I have to tell you that you’re not allowed inside my apartment?”

Well, calling the place, where Hange lived, an apartment was quite possibly a huge exaggeration. Her home consisted of one room, a bathroom and a balcony so small she alone could hardly fit there. Zeke claimed that she started living there years before the accident that caused her amnesia had occurred. But, as with everything Zeke had told her, Hange found it hard to believe him – the apartment, when she returned from the hospital, was barren and lifeless. She couldn’t quite imagine living in such pristine place, especially considering the amount of clutter she had accumulated just after a week of living there.

But why would Zeke lie to her? She asked herself that exact question more times than she could count.

“Zeke wants to see you,” Floch told her, bringing Hange back to present.

“Cool,” she stood up and pushed past Floch, heading to the part of her apartment she proudly called the kitchen. In truth, it was just a tiny corner of her room, where a refrigerator and narrow countertop stood.

Yawning, she started the coffee machine and opened the small cabinet, searching for a clean mug. She needed to do the dishes, Hange noted to herself.

“Your place is like a junkyard, four-eyes. You’re living in a dumpster like a fucking raccoon.”

Hange softly chuckled. As with her strange dreams, it wasn’t the first time she had heard this voice. It often appeared inside her head, commenting on situations she had found herself in. Sometimes it gave her valid advice too. She didn’t know if this voice was a sign of her declining mental health, something that should definitely alarm her, or just a repressed memory of sorts. She tried not to think about it too hard. That voice brought her some comfort, and she was always happy to hear it. She couldn’t remember the name of its owner, of course, and since it was sarcastic and often quite rude, she nicknamed it simply ‘the grumpy one’.

“What are you laughing at?” Floch seethed, following after Hange. “And didn’t you hear me? Zeke wants to see you. What the fuck are you doing?”

“Making coffee,” Hange shrugged. “I’d offer a cup to you too, but, unfortunately, I have no poison to go with it. Don’t take it personally,” she smiled, baring her teeth.

“It’s urgent,” Floch pressed, glaring at her.

Poor thing, Hange thought, as she was filling her mug with steaming coffee, he was probably thinking that he looked fearsome. In truth, Floch reminded Hange of an angry cat, who could do nothing, but hiss.

“If that was actually urgent,” Hange murmured, taking the first sip from the mug. “He wouldn’t have sent you.”

For a moment, Floch was silent. Hange’s smile grew bigger, as she waited for him to catch on. He wasn’t the sharpest tool in shed after all.

“What are you implying?” he asked slowly. He clutched his hands into fists, his chest moved up and down, as he struggled to keep his breathing under control. Hange barely kept herself from laughing. It would have ruined the effect.

“I’m implying, my dear Floch,” she lifted a hand, reaching out to his cheek to pat it with a condescending smile. Floch recoiled from her in disgust. “That you’re not the man Zeke trusts the most. I don’t think he trusts you at all,” she added with an infuriating smirk.

Floch growled, taking a step closer to her.

Hange watched him with giddy trepidation. Was he going to punch her? God, she wanted him to punch her so badly. It’d give her an excuse to punch him back.

“Try to be more civil, Hange, I know that he’s a jerk, but you both are a part of one team.”

That was another one of her voices. This Hange named ‘the serious one’. It was always spoiling all of the fun, but she couldn’t deny it – nine times out of ten, that voice was right in denying Hange her amusement. It was the closest thing she had to an impulse control.

This time, she decided to listen to it too, even though she wanted to have fun so, so much.

“I need to go and take a shower,” she announced, putting her mug with unfinished coffee back on the counter. “And if you, Floch, do not wish to join, then get the fuck out of my apartment.”

“Ugh,” Floch cringed at her suggestion. “Not in a million years. But hurry up. You don’t want to anger Zeke, do you?” curving his lips into a smug grin of his own, he gestured to Hange’s face. “I’m sure you remember what happens when you misbehave.”

The house, engulfed in a bright fire, a child, begging for help, the black smoke and hot flames, the weight of a small body in her arms, the sharp edge of a knife that punished her for saving an innocent life, the pain in her left eye—

Hange shook her head, pushing these memories to the back of her mind. It was enough that they haunted her at nights, she wouldn’t let them torment her during daytime as well.

“Just go already,” Hange sighed, walking past him. “Tell Zeke I’ll come to see him soon.”

***

Hange’s ‘soon’ came almost an hour later. Whatever Zeke needed from her, it definitely wasn’t urgent. If it was, he’d sent anyone else, but Floch. On bad days, that guy couldn’t be trusted even with tying his own shoelaces.

She closed the door to her apartment and walked up the stairs to get to the third floor. The previous headquarters of their criminal organization was blown up - damaged weaponry was to blame, or so Zeke said. And ever since, they’ve been hiding in one of the abandoned buildings at the outskirts of a city. The first floor was designed to hold the higher ranked members of a gang, the second was for storage, and the third floor was what Zeke called his briefing room.

The whole floor was used for that exact purpose, in a center there was a long oak table and all around it were plastic, uncomfortable chairs. On the wall behind, Zeke put up the writing boards, although Hange had never seen someone actually use them. They probably were there to simply create an entourage and not serve as something truly useful. Even man as efficient and cruel as Zeke wasn’t immune to bursts of theatrics, it seemed.

When Hange entered the briefing room, there was no one but Zeke and Pieck inside. Hange grinned instantly, waving to Pieck with a clear glee, reflecting in her glasses.

Hange liked Pieck. A lot. Pieck was overly sarcastic and in all the time they knew each other, Hange honestly didn’t remember if they had at least one friendly exchange, but Pieck was funny. And trustworthy too. When Zeke had punished her for saving a child of his enemy, Pieck was the one, who helped her treat the wound.

However, if there was no one there, but Pieck, it meant that Floch was right. Zeke wanted to tell her something important. Something he wanted to keep a secret.

“And here you are!” he spread his arms in welcoming gesture. “We’ve been waiting for you for quite a while.”

“Then let’s get it over with quick,” Hange trudged up to one of the chairs and plopped down on it heavily.

“Your desire is my command,” Zeke put on a pleasant and obviously fake smile. Hange didn’t smile back.

“There is someone I need you to meet with,” Zeke began, lighting up a cigarette. Hange cringed in disgust, she hated cigarette smoke. And Zeke knew it.

“Who is it?”

“A past associate of mine. We’ve… drifted apart after the accident. I need you to go and see if we can rekindle our love.”

“And…” Hange tilted her head, observing Zeke carefully. “Why does it have to be me?”

Zeke shrugged. “You’re smart, Hange. And, unfortunately, the same can’t be said about all of my employees.”

“You’re the only one I can trust with this, Hange. I know you can do it.”

Hange had to blink a few times, because this time… it wasn’t just a voice. No, she could also see piercing blue eyes and strong jaw. She could see them as clearly as she saw Zeke and Pieck in front of her. Zeke’s eyes were blue too, but nothing like that vivid, bright color Hange had just seen. What was it? A memory? A vision? Was she truly losing her mind?

“…Oi, you weirdo, hey— goddamn it, Hange, do you hear us?”

She instantly snapped back to reality.

“Yes?” her lips curved into a lazy smile, as she turned to face Pieck. “Do you need something, dear Pieck?”

Pieck didn’t roll her eyes or even scoff. Instead, she continued to carefully survey Hange, chewing on her lip worriedly.

“What the fuck was that?” she asked after a moment, her eyes still following Hange’s every move. “It looked like you just blacked out or something. Were my concerns about your sanity actually correct?”

Good question, Hange mused internally.

Externally, she waved Pieck off, putting her arms behind her head and sitting back in a chair. She relaxed in her seat and willed all of her troubling thoughts away.

“Everything’s awesome, dear Pieck. So,” she looked back at Zeke. “Who do I have to meet?”

“His name is Djel Sannes,” Zeke answered, looking at Hange just as intently as Pieck did moments ago. “He’ll be waiting for you this evening in an underground parking lot of the local police department.”

“Police department?!” Hange frowned, taken aback. “Are you insane?”

“What?” Zeke smiled innocently at her. “Is there going to be a problem?”

“Duh,” Hange threw her hands in the air. “It’s a police department, Zeke!”

“Yeah,” he took a drag of his cigarette and then slowly released a white, fat ring of smoke. “And what of it?”

“Have you forgotten,” Hange gritted through teeth. “That we’re members of a fucking gang?”

“We’re a part of a criminal organization,” Zeke corrected, his face contorting in disgust. Of course, how Hange could forget. Calling themselves a gang was too unsophisticated for his snobby ass. “And don’t you worry,” Zeke sent her another smile. “That’s why you’re meeting in a parking lot. No one will know that you’ve even been there. Besides, you’re not going alone.”

Hange lightened up. “Pieck is coming with me?”

“No,” Zeke’s tapped his fingers on a table’s surface, and Hange had a sinking feeling that told her she would really hate his next words. “Floch is going to go with you.”

“Fuck, no,” Hange answered immediately. “I won’t go with that jerk, no fucking way.”

“Don’t be like that, Floch can be annoying, I know, but there is a lot he can learn from you.”

God, just the thought of spending time with that idiot made her skin crawl.

“He’ll be a good boy, I promise,” Zeke added sweetly.

Hange sighed, getting up to her feet. “If he so much as opens his mouth at inappropriate time, I’ll punch him so hard he forgets his name.”

“That’s a deal,” Zeke nodded. “And Hange?” he called when she was almost at the door. “Do you think you can handle going to the police department?”

Hange narrowed her eyes. “If no one will notice us, then what’s the problem?”

“You sure?” he asked again, giving her a weird look. Hange stared back, not sure what the fuck was going on. Was it some kind of a test? If so, then what was its purpose?

“Of course,” she mumbled and left the room.

She wasn’t in a mood for Zeke’s mind games today. She had Floch to deal with, and he already was annoying enough to cause her a headache.

***

“I want to make something clear,” Hange fixed Floch with a hard look. “In this car, the driver always chooses the music. Blink if you understand.”

Floch glared back, but as he saw that this wasn’t working on Hange, he sighed and nodded. “I understand.”

“Great!” Hange smiled and clasped his shoulder so hard, Floch cringed. “Then let’s go! An exciting trip is ahead of us!” she started the car and turned on the music. The first notes of “Let it go” began to play and Floch groaned. Hange’s smile widened.

“Your music taste is as shit as ever,” the grumpy one in her head said. “At least it’s not me who is suffering this time.”

***

"You have to turn left," Floch fumed exasperatingly.

"Shut up,” Hange snapped, gripping the steering wheel tighter.

"The GPS says we have to turn left," Floch lifted his hand, trying to reach out to Hange and take the wheel under his control. She harshly slapped his hand away.

"The GPS is wrong then," Hange blew a stray hair away from her face. "My route is shorter."

"And how do you know that?" Floch demanded.

"I just do," she sighed, trying very hard not to focus on that question. She just did know that this route was shorter. Just like she knew that there was a food court nearby that sold delicious hotdogs. And that on weekdays, the traffic was terrible, especially in the afternoon. She just— she just knew. It was S a mystery, same as her confusing dreams and weird voices inside her head.

One crossroad later, their car stopped in front of the precinct's parking lot.

"There," Hange announced proudly. "We arrived."

Floch frowned. "The ETA said we would be driving for another five minutes."

"The shorter route," Hange reminded him with a grin. "Now go!" she gave Floch a rough shove, pushing him out of the car.

"What the fuck?" he complained. "I was supposed to go with you!"

"And you will," Hange explained with a roll of her eyes. "But I need you to check if the parking lot is really empty. We can't be seen, remember?"

"Riight," Floch reluctantly agreed. "So I just have to go in there? Make sure that it’s deserted?"

"I take my words back, Floch," Hange looked at him impressively, pressing a hand to her chest. "You're not a complete idiot after all."

"Fuck you," he growled.

"Love you too!" Hange waved her hand, watching Floch get out of the car with a smile on her face.

As soon as he closed the door, Hange exhaled and looked up at the sky. The grey, heavy clouds were gathering up above. The streets became darker and the city around her looked ominous, as though signaling every citizen about the upcoming disaster. Hange instantly admonished herself, she was being ridiculous. The cloudy weather could mean only one thing - that it was going to rain. And a little rain hardly ever hurt anyone.

"Makes everything look so messy, though."

Hange hummed, drumming her fingers on a steering wheel. She was a mess. She wondered if the grumpy one would like her.

***

"The coast is clear," Floch announced once he was back inside the car.

"Any sign of our guy?" Hange asked, starting the car.

"Not yet," Floch shook his head.

"Someone is not a fan of punctuality," she tsked in mock disappointment. "Luckily, we're not in a hurry."

Hange drove the car inside the parking lot. Just as Floch had said, it was blessedly empty. She stopped near the center, so they would have a better vantage point. Then Hange turned off the engine and opened the door, walking out and stretching her limbs.

Now all they had to do was wait.

"Do you know what he looks like?" Floch stood next to Hange.

"I do. Zeke showed me a photo."

The man was probably working closely with them before. Hange felt like she knew him. But she wasn’t sure that sending her to meet with the man was a good idea. Sannes’s photo evoked a strong a sense of annoyance inside her. Hange wondered what kind of relationship they used to have before.

It wasn't long before she got her chance to find out. After several minutes of waiting, Sannes walked onto the parking lot. He wasn't alone, though. No, next to him was a short, dark-haired guy. There was... something about him. Even though, his back was facing her, Hange couldn't look away. Her breath quickened and she watched him, unblinkingly, waiting for the man to show his face.

And then he did.

He turned around, for just a second, but it was enough for Hange to catch a glimpse of his face. Her knees almost gave up under her, as a short gasp escaped her lips.

It was— it was Levi.

Hange's head began to spin as memories from her old life came rushing back to her. She staggered backwards, falling to her knees, as all of it nearly overwhelmed her. It felt like her skull was going to combust from all the information. She remembered now, remembered almost everything.

Her days at the academy, meeting Levi and Erwin and then befriending them both, her first case and hundreds that followed after it, the sleepless nights, spent in the precinct with Levi by her side, the morning coffees she shared with Erwin, the jokes she told to Moblit and his team during lunches, the bar where they went to drink at after work. She remembered Erwin’s smile and Levi’s scowl, remembered the soapy smell of his hair and the warmth of his hand on her shoulder. Remembered how tightly he pressed herself against his side whenever she had too much to drink at the bar. Remembered the concern that appeared inside his usually emotionless eyes whenever she got hurt or wounded. There was so much she was missing, there was so much that was taken from her.

Hange seethed as she thought of what Zeke had done to her and everyone she cared about. Before she succumbed to the anger completely, though, rough hands grabbed her shoulders, grounding her in reality. She looked up, blinking a few times.

Floch was crouched in front of her.

"What the fuck?" he looked at her with a mix of annoyance and panic. "Have you finally lost it?"

Having your life turn upside will do that to you, Hange mentally scoffed.

But now she needed to focus. She couldn’t let Floch know that her memories came back.

So she put her feelings to the back of her mind, shutting them off, and forced a smile. "No need to worry," she patted Floch’s shoulder and rose to her feet. "Just feeling a little bit dizzy. Shouldn’t have skipped the breakfast."

Floch narrowed his eyes in suspicion, watching Hange for another second. But then he rolled his eyes and stood up too. Good, he seemed to have bought her lie. "You're such a freak."

"I'm simply unique," Hange grinned. "Now, hurry up and get to work."

"Huh?"

"Our guy, Floch," she pointed behind herself. "He's leaving. Go and talk to him."

"Didn't Zeke tell you to do that?"

"He did, but things changed. See that shorty next to him?" the nickname rolled easily off her tongue. How could she forget her favorite clean freak, Hange wondered absentmindedly. She must have hit her head pretty badly. Levi always said she was too scatterbrained for her own good. "We need to distract him. I'll do that and you talk with our target. Alright?"

"Alright," Floch agreed.

As soon as Floch left, Hange sighed in relief. One less thing to worry about. For a second, she watched as Floch maneuvered between the cars in the shadows. Then she turned back to Levi. He was already finished with tearing Sannes a new one, and was now walking right in Hange’s direction. He was probably heading to his car, she tried to calm herself. She was well hidden in a shadow and she stood behind a car. He wouldn’t be able to see her. There was nothing to panic about. Still, Hange’s heart was beating so loudly, she was sure Levi could hear it too.

She wanted to go to him. Every part of her screamed with need to see Levi. To look at his scowling face, to hear his raspy voice. It took all of Hange’s willpower to tear her gaze away from him. She couldn’t do it, not right now. She was a mess, a clatter of old memories and dozen contrasting emotions. She needed to keep it together, to sort it all out.

Yes, that was what she was going to do. Fuck Floch and Sannes, she couldn’t deal with them right now. What she needed was to clear her head. With that in mind, Hange decided to get back inside the car. She looked back for a second, checking on Floch. He was already by Sannes’s side, leading him out of the parking lot. Then she glanced at Levi. He was standing on the other side of a parking lot, a distance away from Hange. He was next to his car, and Hange couldn’t keep a smile off her face, as she realized that he was wiping off a stain from his rear window. God, what a clean freak, she thought, feeling her chest fill with affection.

It wasn’t the time to stare or reminisce, though. She needed to move, to get out of here before her resolve crumbles. Hange took a step in the direction of her car. She did it slowly, not taking her eye off Levi even for a second. He was still fumbling with a stain, so she took another step. She was almost close enough to open the door. Hange lifted her leg and then—

And then her shoe squeaked.

Levi snapped his head around instantly, looking up in alarm. Hange put a hand over her mouth and sank to her knees. She froze in that position, watching Levi with wide, panicked eye.

“Who is there?” he asked, narrowing his eyes and taking a step closer. A car separated them, and Hange prayed that Levi wouldn’t check behind it.

He stood there for what felt like hours. Sweat began to drip down Hange’s forehead, as she tried to predict Levi’s next move. She heard him take another step and then put his hand on a hood of a car.

“Is anyone here?” Levi repeated his question.

Hange closed her eye, pressing hands tighter to her lips. If she so much as peeps right now, she was doomed.

Levi glanced between the cars and then sighed, turning around.

“I really need to sleep,” he muttered, raising a hand to ruffle his hair. He looked around the parking lot once again, and then started heading back to his car.

Hange waited for him to get inside, and only then allowed herself to relax.

“Fuck,” she breathed out, watching as Levi drove away. As soon as he left, Hange jumped up and hurried to her own car. She hopped in and started the engine, eager to leave this place behind as quickly as possible.

There was a lot she needed to think about.

***

Someone was looking after it.

There were fresh flowers – peonies, her favorite. All weeds had been taken out.

On a bright, white stone there was an epitaph engraved.

A brilliant mind. The kindest of hearts. A loyal, dear friend. Without your shining presence, the world had lost some of its light. Staring down at her own grave was... a weird experience. Hange wasn't yet sure how she felt about it.

Normal people would probably be weirded out by this. Some would start contemplating their own mortality and the impact they leave on the world. Most would be afraid to even look at it. Hange felt nothing but burning, seething rage.

Zeke would pay for this. No matter what it takes, be it her own life, but Hange would bring him to justice. She would do anything to ruin his life. Just as he had ruined hers.

She didn't know for how long she was standing there motionlessly, lost to her swirling thoughts. The rain had started - a cold, heavy downpour - but Hange paid no mind to it. She was so far gone she didn't even hear the approaching footsteps. Or a quiet, shocked gasp.

She felt a trembling hand on her elbow, though. She whirled around and saw those piercing blue eyes.

Tears started to well up in her own eye, as she stared up at him.

"Hange?" Erwin whispered softly, quietly as though he was afraid that his loud voice would shutter the feeble illusion. That Hange would disappear like smoke in the wind. "Is that really you?"

"I guess?" she chuckled. The tears were now freely streaming down her face.

"Hange, oh god," Erwin threw away his umbrella and quickly shortened the distance between them, wrapping his arms around her.

Hange buried her face into his jacket, sobbing loudly.

"I missed you, Erwin. T-there is so much I need to tell you."

"And I'll gladly listen to you," Hange could hear a smile in his voice, and she felt her own lips curve upwards too. "But as for now," Erwin leaned in and gently kissed the crown of her head. "Welcome back, Hange."

#*gestures to this mess of a chapter* do you think a depressed person could make this?#anyways! critisism is very appreciated lmao #levihan #levihan fanfiction #levi x hange #hange zoe #levi ackerman #floch forster #zeke yeager #rivahan #snk fanfiction #snk levi

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boonki · 3 years

Text

Obikin prompt #1

A little 1.8k ficlet brought on by the prompt:

“When the hell did you get here?!”

“I got bored of waiting around for you to kill me so I wanted to see what you were doing.”

This is pre-slash, post Mustafar, about five(???) years after Anakin’s fall. I haven’t edited this, so... please tell me where I’ve made mistakes lol.

And send me prompts! My inbox is open for ideas :)

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It had been years since Obi-wan had seen the inside of a ship, let alone the glistening and polished interior of a star destroyer. Being voluntarily isolated on a desert planet limited the number of interactions he had with the Empire, for which he had been immensely grateful. His humble living space was already littered with memories, knick-knacks, and repressed feelings; he had long since abandoned the idea of using a mirror, not wanting to see his own measly reflection.

The Empire was the last reminder Obi-wan needed of his own failures.

Obi-wan twisted Anakin’s padawan braid around his fingers, one of the few things he had let himself be sentimental about in the years that followed Anakin’s fall. He had to hold onto the good memories, be reminded of the years that he had practically raised the boy. The hair was still golden in the braid, memories still golden in his head.

The tractor beam of the star destroyer pulled him in slowly, and it gave Obi-wan a moment to sit in peace, his fate pulled too far towards his own demise to change the course now. He knew he wouldn’t walk out of here alive.

The thought brought odd comfort.

He pulled his force signature into himself, stifling it down to the point of discomfort and pulling up his shields as sturdy as they would go, not wanting Darth Vader to notice him before he was ready, though he knew that there was only a slim chance Vader wouldn’t recognize him immediately. They had known each other almost better than themselves, or at least Obi-wan had thought, their force signatures so entwined sometimes it had been hard to tell where one began and the other ended. There had been secrets between them, of course, truths too hard to bear witness to, but there had still been a level of trust he had never been fully able to comprehend. But now, having lost the regular, calming presence in the back of his head that he had grown so accustomed to, he didn’t want to feel how tarnished Anakin had become, how void of life, how lonely. If Anakin was even in there at all. He didn’t want to even touch Vader’s mind.

Yoda had tried to bring him semblances of comfort during the years after Anakin’s fall, claiming the man he had known and loved had died on Mustafar, replaced by Vader. That the man in the mask was only an empty shell. And for years, Obi-wan readily believed this, desperate to find solid ground in the sinking sand his life had disintegrated into.

But he knew better. He had years to mull it over, meditating on what he could have done differently. He knew Anakin had not simply turned to the dark side one day, that it must have been a gradual descent, and if it were gradual, it was done by putting one foot in front of the other. Anakin had walked away from him, and that stung.

No, not stung. It was the worst thing Obi-wan had ever endured.

His ship landed roughly in the hangar, jolting him out of his own head. He stood, bending backwards to pop his lower back, and let out a hefty sigh, shutting the ship down and popping the cockpit open, lifting an eyebrow at the small gang of troopers that had gathered outside of the ship, all pointing their rifles at him. The dim white lights of the hangar reflected off of the tops of their helmets, making them glow a bit.

“Hello there,” he started, swinging his legs over the hull to stand on the ground, landing only with a slight twinge in his knees, which he met with an imperceptible grimace. He wasn’t used to flying long distances anymore. “Is Vader around?”

“Halt!” One of the stormtroopers commanded, taking a step towards Obi-wan, holding his rifle steady at Obi-wan’s chest. “State your purpose.”

Obi-wan cocked his head, smiling patiently, tucking his hands into the sleeves of his long, tan robes, the ones Anakin used to hate for their beigeness. “I thought I just made that clear. I’m here to see Darth Vader, unless he’s busy at the moment, in which case I am more than happy to wait.”

The peaceful sentiment seemed to disorient the trooper, who glanced back towards the group wordlessly. Judging by their lack of reaction, none of them quite knew what to do, didn’t have any protocol to follow. Obi-wan guessed Vader didn’t get many visitors. None that came voluntarily, that is.

“State your name.” The stormtrooper continued, never moving his rifle away from Obi-wan’s chest.

“Obi-wan Kenobi. You’ll find our friend knows me very well, if you wouldn’t mind passing along my greetings.”

***

Obi-wan wasn’t entirely sure where they had been trying to escort him to, as, after turning through a few nondescript hallways that dripped in black and white monotone, Darth Vader made his entrance, and Obi-wan had to hold back the small smile at how the menacing figure never lost his dramatic streak: some part of Anakin lived on, even if it was the part of him that had given Obi-wan premature grey hairs. His black cloak billowed behind him as he had turned the corner, and after letting the amusement pass through him, shock and horror crept up the back of Obi-wan’s throat.

This was what he had done to Anakin.

No- this was what Anakin had done to himself.

They came to a stop, meeting in the middle, leaving a good distance between themselves.

Obi-wan lowered the hood of his robe, knowing that Vader already knew who he was, but letting him get a better look at him. Letting him see the wrinkles and sun-spots that had peppered his face in the past five years.

Silence stretched in the gulf between them, tense and unwavering, almost palpable. Obi-wan took in every inch of him: the long black suit that gave him a few extra inches to his already tall stature, the dark helmet that glared hatred back at the viewer, the life support panel strapped to his chest that allowed for the heavy, static breathing. Obi-wan thought of Anakin, his dear, beautiful boy who loved open, free spaces, trapped forever inside this hulk of metal.

Vader lifted his eyes to the stormtroopers that flanked Obi-wan, and to his surprise Vader sounded a little unsure of himself, as if genuinely taken aback. Maybe Obi-wan had hid himself better than he had thought. “Leave us.”

They did so without hesitation, leaving the pair alone in the hallway, letting fate take its course.

Obi-wan swallowed, trying to push down the lump in his throat. “Hello there.” He sounded old, heartbroken, and strangely tinny to his own ears.

“When did you get here?” Vader asked, genuine confusion lacing the hatred of his tone.

Obi-wan considered the truth, and landed on a joke to cushion it instead. “I got bored of waiting around for you to kill me, so I wanted to see what you were doing, old friend.”

Vader rushed forwards, grabbing Obi-wan by the throat with a snarl, the force swirling with darkness around him. “I am not your friend. You were merely a pawn stopping me on my path to greatness.” Anger hung on every word, even through the raspy vocalizer the words had to filter through.

Obi-wan grasped Vader’s forearm, not trying to push him off. “I was only a pawn?” he tried to laugh, but Vader’s hold on his throat was too strong, “you were everything to me, dear one.” He rasped out, his windpipe slowly being crushed by Vader’s firm grip.

Vader pushed him away, sending Obi-wan stumbling backwards in a coughing fit, righting himself through the force, and even through his shields he could feel the surge of fury seep into the force at the endearment, and wasn’t at all surprised when the room glowed by the light of Vader’s lightsaber.

Obi-wan had come prepared to die, but the glimmer of red bouncing off the edges of Vader’s suit solidified what was happening. It didn’t seem real until then.

A small part of Obi-wan had hoped Anakin wouldn’t have been able to kill him, that whatever had been between them would be enough. It hadn’t been in the past, Obi-wan thought bitterly.

Obi-wan watched Vader take a steadying breath, twirling his saber around like Anakin had always done before deciding the best plan of action.

“I have dreamed of killing you, Kenobi. Of letting you burn and suffer the same way you let me suffer. I’ve had dreams of cutting off your limbs one by one until you had nothing left.” The words were cruel, frightening almost, if Obi-wan hadn’t been able to hear the small, scared child underneath the wrath.

“Bit dramatic don’t you think?” He answered, hitting the k hard at the end of the sentence, readjusting his robes from where they had slid sideways with Vader’s shove. “Well, get one with it then. I said I had been waiting.”

Even through the suit, Obi-wan could sense his hesitation. “Aren’t you going to fight?” Vader asked him, as if challenging him.

Obi-wan drew in a long suffering sigh, like he always did before diving into a lecture. “No, Anakin,” Vader’s body flinched at the name, “I don’t think I will. We fought before, and it didn’t quite work out for either of us. I’ve accepted that I failed you as a Master, as a… friend. I’m sorry you didn’t feel that you could trust me. You deserved better than what I had given you, and now I am here to atone for it. I’m ready to be one with the force.” Obi-wan exhaled, pursing his lips together. That was probably the most words he had said in one go in a long time, and something in his chest loosened, unraveling with the confession.

There was a lull in the conversation, as if Vader needed a moment to consider what Obi-wan had said. To be fair, Obi-wan thought, this was probably not how Vader thought his day was going to go.

“You came here… to apologize?” All of Vader’s anger had fled, leaving only sincere distress.

“Well,” Obi-wan smiled, mirth creasing the edges of his eyes, “I didn’t quite think I’d make it this far. But yes, I suppose I did, in a way.”

Vader drew back in his lightsaber, the hallway descending back into darkness, only the dim lights of the walkway illuminating their faces.

Obi-wan wanted nothing more than to let his shields crack just a little, just to reach out and see what Vader was thinking. But as soon as a tendril of the force brushed up against Anakin’s mind, he was thrown back into his own head, sharp and dangerous. Vader clearly wasn’t ready for that.

“Come.” Vader ordered, turning on his heel and marching into the depths of the ship, not waiting for Obi-wan to follow him. With only a twitch of the eyebrow to betray his bafflement at the change of heart, Obi-wan followed.

Anakin had once left him like this, step by step into the dark side, going to a place Obi-wan could never follow. He could only hope these new steps lead somewhere different, somewhere brighter, somewhere they could meet in the middle. He supposed he’d have to start walking to figure out.

#obikin #boonki writes #obi-wan #anakin #my boooooys

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danny-chase · 3 years

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Titans (Comics) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Garth & Dick Grayson, Garth & Donna Troy, Garth & Dick Grayson & Donna Troy Characters: Garth (DCU), Dick Grayson, Donna Troy, Lian Harper Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, snuggling and fluff, self indulgent fic, Cuddling, Hypothermia, Canon Typical Violence, Swearing, POV Garth, Fluffy Ending, no beta we die like Garth, Dick Grayson needs to sleep more, Cold Water, inflatable rafts, Garth has the power to make a mini hot tub, Titans, Titans (1999) feels, Blankets Summary:

The one where Garth has to save his idiot best friend from dying of hypothermia. Incredibly self indulgent with many snuggles.

Garth decided that the next time he had a bad feeling about something, to ignore Dick, and say no. It was for his own good.

Then.

One of the best parts of living in Titans Tower was that he could set the temperature of the indoor pool.

It was the middle of February, outside, temperatures had dropped below freezing, but inside the heated water, he was nice and warm. Gliding through, he spun and twirled just for fun. And of course, to show off for his delightful little niece Lian.

“Catch me!” Lian ran off the diving board, a gleeful expression on her face as Garth dove up through the water, snatching her out of midair. He leaned straight back to create a massive splash (not at all enhanced with his powers). All the while keeping Lian completely dry. “Again! Again!” She cried, laughing her head off as he carried her on his shoulders, depositing her on the side.

“One more, then bedtime. Promise?” Lian was tough to bargain with, a real smooth talker – just like her dad. As it was, the precocious little five-year-old titled her head to the side with a frown.

“Hmm. I want two more times.” Two? He’d be getting off lucky, he’d been planning on three.

“Deal.” He immediately replied. Lian padded off towards the board again, carefully walking (they’d told her enough times not to run).

“Lian, sweetie.” Garth turned to see Dick and Donna walking in, in uniform. He frowned; they didn’t have a mission scheduled for tonight. Lian changed course, veering off at Donna’s call.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Dick intercepted, swinging Lian up in his arms into a hug. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and Lian giggled back. “It’s bedtime for you, little bird.” Her face morphed into a frown.

“But Uncle Garth said-”

“Sorry kiddo, I gotta talk to your uncle Garth.” Dick smiled at her lovingly. “Can you go with Auntie Donna? She’s going to put you to bed with Aunt Toni. Okay?” Garth swam to the edge of the pool, Lian’s lower lip was forming into a defiant pout.

“Sorry, fishsticks, we can do it tomorrow. Three times.” He promised. Somehow, he knew he wouldn’t be getting out of the third round. Fortunately, his luck held, and Lian decided three times tomorrow would be good enough. She nodded, squirming towards Donna.

“Okay.” She replied. Dick passed her over and stuck a hand over the edge of the pool. Garth took it, and they both pulled; he nearly flew out of the water.

“Here.” Donna passed him a towel as she left. “See you in a bit.”

“Bye, fishy.” Lian called as the exited the room, giggling as Donna gave her a little tickle. Lian was such a precious child, Roy was truly blessed to have her.

He turned his attention to Dick. ‘Have you been sleeping?’ is what he wanted to ask; he was paler than usual, and the bags under his eyes were becoming more pronounced (again). But Dick never took to the question kindly, and at this point, Garth had learned to pick his fights. “What’s up?” He asked instead. Dick gestured towards the locker room.

“Quick mission, you, me, and Donna. I’ve been hacking the H.I.V.E.’s servers, they’re receiving an arms shipment tonight in about an hour by boat, you game?” Garth nodded hesitantly, the bad feeling from before returning. The others were busy tonight, they likely wouldn’t have any backup.

“How long did that take you?” He asked nonchalantly. Dick shrugged, but his bloodshot eyes spoke for themselves. Garth repressed a sigh. Fighting Dick Grayson would be counterintuitive, at least if he went, he could keep him out of trouble.

“Meet in the bay in fifteen.” Dick instructed. “Glad to have you on board.” He grinned, and Garth did his best to ignore how unhinged he looked. This was a bad idea.

Now.

“I knew this was a bad idea.” Garth grumbled. Cold wind stung his face, as he ducked another punch from the enhanced guard. Dick finished off the normal guards on the left, and Donna was locked in battle with another meta to his right. Fighting in cramped spaces was never fun.

“Quit whining Gill-for-brains.” Dick teased he’d just finished off the last goon. He turned, chucking a wing-ding into the meta’s palm. The man roared with fury and charged.

It seemed to happen in slow motion, the wind picked up on the rickety little speedboat, Dick stumbled as he dodged, the minute mistake was all the meta needed. Garth ran, but the meta was closer – he didn’t have a chance.

“Shit.” He cursed as he watched Dick tumble off the side of the boat, into frigid waters.

*SPLOOSH*

“Fuck.” Donna muttered next to him. The meta turned back towards him, invigorated by his victory. Garth cursed, he couldn’t leave Donna alone with two of them, Dick would have to wait, but he needed to hurry.

“Fucking asshole!” Garth yelled, anger burning in his chest. He let out a violet blast and kicked the man in the knee. “That was my friend!” The meta swiped at him, but adrenaline was coursing through his veins. Ducking, twisting, turning, blasting, he unleashed a barrage of fury on his opponent. All the while, they sped further and farther away from where Dick went under.

Garth screamed in fury, unleashing a final blast at the man’s head, and finally the man stayed down.

“Go, I’ve got this one.” He was way ahead of her, running to the side of the speeding boat. His muscles burned from exertion, but he pushed through. “I’ll meet you with the copter!”

“Nightwing!” He called, diving off the side. Swimmingly in the opposite direction, he scanned the horizon for motion – damn Dick for making his costume so hard to freaking see against the night. “NIGHTWING!” He repeated, frantically picking up speed.

His pulse pounded in his head, it was cold out, and while he was resilient to the sub-freezing waters, Dick was human. It didn’t matter how well-crafted his suit was, it wasn’t watertight, and in this weather, it wouldn’t take long for hypothermia to set in. The currents were strong, and the boat had been moving fast, it couldn’t have been more than ten minutes since Dick fell in but, he was no where to be seen. Garth tore on, cutting through the choppy waves.

Finally, he caught a spattering of bright yellow on the horizon – a small inflatable raft was tossed about on the rough sea. There was only one hero (okay probably Batman too) that kept a life raft on him. Fear seemed to pierce through his chest as he willed the water to push him forward. “Nightwing!” He called again, surfacing just next to the little vessel.

No response. His chest clenched with anticipation and worry as he carefully placed a hand on the lip of the float. Gingerly, he pulled himself up, careful not to overturn it.

Dick was sprawled on the other side, violently trembling, as one of his arms dangled over the side. His skin had a grayish tone, ice had frozen chunks of his hair. Panic clawed at Garth’s sides. “Dick?” No response. He scrambled across the raft and pulled the shaking figure into his arms. Dick’s eyelids fluttered behind the lenses on his mask.

“-ayy?” He mumbled a string garbled words, weakly squirming as Garth pulled him close to his chest. “-oo ‘ot” He protested, Garth kept his grip firm, and stood, hoisting Dick in his arms and willing water to flood the little raft.

“I got you, Rob. You’re okay.” He murmured into Dick’s hair, the old nickname slipping out, despite the new costume. Shifting Dick over his shoulders, he plunged his left hand into the raft’s water are brought it up to a warm temperature, careful not to make it hot. “You’re going to be okay, just hang on a moment.” He kept his voice steady and soothing, ignoring the anxiety clawing its way up his throat. He had to stay levelheaded, focus on maintaining the water temperature.

He gently lowered Dick into the make-shift bath, keeping an arm wrapped around his torso, securely locking him in place against his chest. He twisted his legs around Dick’s preventing him from kicking around. Using his left hand, he held Dick’s head above water, and carefully melted the ice in his hair. He hummed platitudes in Dick’s ear, and after a few moments, he settled down.

“-arf?” He let out a breath of relief at the acknowledgment.

“You with me?” He gave Dick a gentle squeeze.

“-ere’s ‘ay-on?” He gulped in surprise, he wasn’t sure, but that sounded like Jason. Dick never talked about Jason. “-e ‘kaay? -iing.” Garth ran his hand through Dick’s hair and thanked the gods for the faint sound of a helicopter approaching in the distance.

“You’re all right, love, everything’s fine.” He assured, willing Donna to speed up. “Keep still.” Dick was squirming again, but in his current condition it was a fruitless endeavor. He warmed the water slightly, bringing it back up to temperature. Dick’s head lolled against his chest. “Stay awake.”

“’ired.” Dick complained. Concern tugged at his insides.

“I know, buddy, it’s okay, you gotta keep your eyes open for me, alright?” Dick mumbled in acknowledgement. They sat in silence for a moment, tremors wracking Dick’s small frame. Humans were so tiny. “How are you feeling?”

“’s hot.” Dick wriggled, trying to pull out of the warm water, again Garth just gently restrained him.

“Sorry, big brain, you gotta stay put.”

Dick began mumbling again, Garth only caught the word “skiing” from the gibberish. The wings of the Titan’s helicopter drowned out whatever it was Dick was trying to say. Donna swooped down moments later, scooping them both up, and carrying them up to the small cabin.

“Great Hera.” She shook her head, fretting as she unzipped Dick’s suit. Garth quickly discarded his wet clothes, vigorously toweling off before hopping in a spare set of pants from a bin they kept in the back. He yanked out boxers and sweatpants for Dick.

“He’s not making sense.” Garth advised, tossing the clothes onto a nearby seat. Dick swayed on the spot as Donna removed the top half of his drenched suit, and Garth quickly made his way over, placing an arm on his side to keep him upright.

“Well, that’s what happens when you decide to go swimming in Febuary.” Donna rolled her eyes, but her tone was worried. “You won’t do that again, will you?” Dick’s teeth chattered as he stared past her in response. Garth grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his torso, swapping places with Donna to take off the bottom.

“The things we do for love.” Donna said wryly, passing him dry clothes. She started toweling off Dick’s hair, as Garth gently patted down his legs with another towel.

“-ing on?” Dick muttered. “onna?” Garth guided his feet into the pants and pulled them up.

“I’m right here, sweetheart.” Donna pressed a kiss to his temple.

“Alright, almost good as new.” He grabbed a blanket off the dash. “Donna, care to join?” She grabbed a second blanket, and the two of them half carried a stumbling Dick Grayson to the cot in the back.

“I’ll have to take over when we land, but we should be good on autopilot for now.” They threw the blankets over the group, sandwiching Dick in the middle. Garth breathed a sigh of relief, slipping his arms around Dick’s torso and pulling their chests together, making skin-to-skin contact. Donna shuffled closer, scooping his legs together and curling around them, leaning her head against Garth’s side. He leaned back against the wall, together they made a little cocoon of warmth, his naturally high body temperature easily heating their little nest under the blankets.

“Methinks, we should take a vacation. Somewhere warm.” He suggested, contentedly cuddling Dick close to his chest, the anxiety of the last hour dying down at last. Donna snorted next to him.

“You remember our last ‘vacation’?” She asked sarcastically. Garth nodded. A disastrous trip to a remote island, plagued with storms and infighting, the latter of which was caused by a villain with a grudge. With a specific dislike of their shivering friend.

“Dick thinks it’s a good idea, don’t you?”

“Mm?”

“Close enough, I’m taking it as a yes.” Donna laughed; warm air tickled his arm.

“Shall we go to the Grand Canyon?” She teased.

“No.” Dick stated, catching them both off guard. “Garth is a fiiiish.” Even delirious, at least Dick understood Garth plus hot, dry climate equals a bad idea.

“Well, he’s not wrong. I am a fish.” Garth grinned. “We could go to another island. With more houses.” He suggested.

“’ruce hass a islaand.” Dick noted. Of course Batman owned an island. Though, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to go to an island Bruce had bought.

“Okay, that sounded like an endorsement. Boy blunder, are you sure you’re feeling okay?” Donna put a hand on his forehead, brushing his bangs to the side.

“’m fineee.” Ah, yes. Dick Grayson; the pinnacle of good health.

“See, he’s fine Donna, sheesh, what are you getting so worked up for? The man wants his vacation.” Donna rolled her eyes.

“He’ll kill us if we drag him on vacation.” She muttered. Though, in his current state, that was highly unlikely.

“Donna, I’ll kill him if he tries to get out of bed for the next two days.” He assured. Dick would be a nightmare to deal with, but on the bright side, he’d been scheduled to babysit the next few days, and Lian would love another friend to join in watching My Little Pony and Barbie movies.

“Agreed.” Donna noted.

“Dooon’t, kill meee.” Dick squirmed again.

“Dick, Garth won’t hurt him, he doesn’t have it in him.” She knocked her head against his shoulder. “He’s a big old softie.”

“Heee’s fiiishy.” Dick agreed, relaxing back into his arms.

“Okay, no one let him near Lian.” Garth joked, taking Dick’s hands in his. Color seemed to be returning to the surface of his skin. He pressed the side of his face to Dick’s ear, nestling his head back against his chest.

“Youuur warm.” Dick let out a long yawn, sending shivers down Garth’s spine.

“A yes, another brilliant deduction from the Boy Wonder, Wondergirl, how does he do it?” Garth teased. He felt almost giddy now that Dick was in better shape than before. They’d still need to be careful, but the stress of the situation was slowly leaving him as they snuggled together.

“It’s his big head, it makes space for his big brain.” He laughed at Donna’s remark and pressed a kiss to the top of Dick’s head. It was a big brain, but a dumb one sometimes too. The conversation hit a lull, and they sat there, in silent companionship with one another.

After a while, Donna passed him Dick’s legs. “I’ve gotta to land, take care of bird-brain.”

“Tweet.” Dick commented as she left. Garth wheezed to stifle laughter.

“You think you’re cute, don’t you?” Donna called from the front.

“Am.” Dick muttered.

“Can’t argue with that.” Garth asserted, tucking his legs up underneath Dick’s. As they neared the landing pad, he breathed yet another sigh of relief. He wasn’t thrilled with the state of events, but they’d been lucky tonight. He wouldn’t be attending another funeral tomorrow. Dick’s heart was steadily beating, his breath seeming to get easier with each passing moment. As they landed in the bay, Garth decided, that for tonight, that would have to be enough.

#my writing #i've written a fanfic so self indulgent you wouldn't believe #Dick and Garth deserve to snuggle #as does Donna #the fab five should snuggle more #garth of shayeris #dick grayson #donna troy #lian harper

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professormembranexreader · 3 years

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Yandere!Membrane x Fem!Reader pt. 2 (Angst & Gore)

RECAP

——————————————————

Membrane kinda stalked you, memorized your entire resume, smelled the smelly smell on the resume that was smelly, and is now going to be your boss but you don't know the bad stuff

Membrane's POV:

It was her first day at work. Being honest, it caught me off guard when I saw (Y/N) at the entrance waiting for me. 'Oh, right. She has no clue where she's going.'

"Good morning, sir!" She smiled. Her joy was infectious; I couldn't help but crack a small grin under my collar.

"Good morning to you as well, (Y/N). How do you feel about your first day?" I started off casual. There was no way I was going to let her think I was 'weird' or 'murderous'. No, that would never do. I need her to be my secretary. I need her to be in my life. I need her to love me.

She spoke up, interrupting me and my thoughts. "Well, sir, I'm kinda scared. I don't know anything regarding what you expect me to do. I don't know how to do most of the things here either. Much less any of the people I'll be working with..."

I held her face with my hand. "Don't worry, (Y/N). I'll help you. Siempre." She looked at me, confused. I realized I got too close.

I cleared my throat, promptly removing my hand. "I'm sorry, (Y/N), that was highly unprofessional of me. Please pay no mind to that." She looked up at me, confused, but shrugged it off.

"Uh, whatever you say, sir." I unlocked the entrance to the facility and motioned for her to follow me. The loud thud of boots followed by the clicking of heels (can be short heel and prob will be) echoed through the vacant halls. None of the lights were turned on yet, leaving her to closely follow behind. I could faintly feel her breath on my back. I grinned as I lead the way to my office. She was going to be mine. All mine.

Along the way, I explained the basics of what she'd be doing. Organizing files, managing my schedule, et cetera. She nodded occasionally, and tried to make small talk... it didn't work too well for her. Luckily though, I had managed to save the conversation by asking her about her life. I already knew most of the information she told me, but there were a few things that surprised me.

Finally we were there. I helped her get familiar with her desk, showing her how to navigate the software, when it suddenly came time for work.

"Oh, it seems that we are out of time. Just page me if you need anything. Hasta luego, querida." I rushed down to my lab and started to gather notebooks. I needed to plan for my next invention. I rushed back up, avoiding the rush of workers who assembled the most demanded products. She winked at me as I entered the room.

She was seated near my office, separated by just a wall. I installed a one-way mirror so I could always watch her. It was covered by a tapestry which could easily be pushed aside. I had nothing to truly do, so I spent time watching her. Her hair was so pretty. Dios, I'd love to inhale the scent of her hairspray. I've stolen a few bottles, but they have nothing to truly cling to.

While I wished to be closer, this could do until I take her for myself. Of course it didn't take but a few days for plans to change.

I kept staring at her, smiling under my collar, but it soon started to turn into a frown. One of my most bothersome employees, Carter (sorry to both this and all other Carters), walked up to (Y/N)'s desk. I've been looking for an excuse to fire him for so long, but it seemed as though he knew my game. He always made sure to avoid the punishment.

But there was no way he would worm his way out this time. He leaned over her desk, talking. She seemed a bit uncomfortable, but he didn't seem to notice. He reached his hand over to her face and my blood boiled. It took every ounce of his self control to not punch through the glass and choke him then and there.

I stood up and walked closer to the one-way mirror. He sat on the desk and gave her a slip of paper. She blushed and told him something. He got off the desk and took her hand, kissing it before walking off.

I threw down the tapestry, covering the glass once more. I clenched my fists and started to grind my teeth. There was no way I would let him get away with that. I stewed in my anger until the time came for the work day to end.

(Y/N) knocked on my door before gently opening it. "Professor?" All anger was repressed when I saw (Y/N)'s face.

"Yes, (Y/N)?" A calming baritone voice resounded through the room. (Y/N) smiled and asked if I would walk her home. I nodded. There was no way I would ever let her go home completely alone from this point on. I took her hand and led her out of the office. A faint pink dusted her cheeks but she made no comment.

We walked down the city streets, looking at food and clothes through the windows. We talked about simpler things... simpler times...

Soon, we were at her apartment. It wasn't much, but to (Y/N) it was home. She won't have to worry about this disgusting hut when she's with me. I made no comment, but simply watched as she left my side.

"Thank you, Professor. Goodnight!" I saw her go inside before returning to my own home.

My sleep was restless that night. I tossed and turned relentlessly. Not even the thought of (Y/N) bending to my will, fully submitting to me helped. My mind was plagued with the thought of Carter (lmao forgot his name already and had to go look). The thought of him touching her, talking to her, looking at her! It filled me with indescribable emotions I couldn't quite name. I needed to rid myself of this. I needed to get rid of the problem.

I needed to get rid of him.

The next morning was roughly the same. I saw (Y/N) walk in and my heart fluttered. The hours dragged on before I decided to call him into my office.

"(Y/N), send Carter Hughes (sorry to all Carter Hughes' out there) to my office." She nodded and quickly paged him up. I waited in my office, gathering my self control to not rip him to shreds. If he wasn't here, he couldn't bother (Y/N). He couldn't bother (Y/N).

He walked into my office. He looked smug. I grimaced under my collar. "I think we both know why you're here, Mr. Hughes." His smile grew even larger.

"No, I'm not quite sure." This little weasel.

"Mr. Hughes, you are being fired from our company." I stated blankly.

"You have no reason to." He grinned. I wanted this to be simple-hacking off a small branch with an axe. But it seems that I'm cutting down the whole limb.

I planted my hands on the desk in front of me, raising my voice. "You have been harassing your coworkers and have been absent from almost all your work. With your record, it's surprising you stayed here this long." I handed him a pink slip. His face paled. "I suggest you pack your things in the morning, Carter. It's getting late. Wouldn't want you to go home in the dark." He gulped and nodded. The night passed. I felt accomplished. He was finally gone. Finally.

The next work day, Carter passed by (Y/N)'s desk. He was carrying a small cardboard box. (Y/N) asked something, then Carter laughed. He said something in return, but I couldn't tell you the words, but it'd made (Y/N) blush. He winked at strode his way out of the room.

My mind was fixed on the thought of what happened. How could I be so foolish as to let the problem remain? The only solution was to nip it in the bud. The only solution was to end it before it could cause any more trouble. There is no way to let him keep his life. And I intend to fix that.

I scanned through the files for employee information. "Harrington, Henson, Hepburn, Hill, Hinton, Hiragina, Holon, ah! Hughes." I wrote down the address and started packing up.

I dropped my work down on my desk at home. I grabbed some rope, chloroform, and put a fake license plate on my car just in case. I drove down to his apartment with a smile on my face. The problem will finally be gone. I creeped inside and found his bedroom. He really should lock his door—then again, he won't have to worry about that now. I put my hand against his throat, covering his mouth and nose with a chloroform soaked bandage. With the combined effort, he was unconscious in less than a minute. I flung him over my shoulder and threw him into the trunk. The sadistic grin never left my face.

I pulled up to my driveway, grabbed the bounty I'd brought home, and carried it down to my lab.

I didn't have long before he woke up, so I put restraints as my top priority. I set him down on my strongest operating table and cuffed his arms and legs to it. I began to quickly gather my tools.

Gore Warning Time (=◉ ◡ ◉=)

I filled the needle with Pancuronium, a muscle paralyzer. His eyes widened as he fought further against the restraints. I couldn't help but let out a little chuckle. It's just so useless. I set the needle down and stuck a tube down his throat. Hooking that tube to one of of the various machines in my lab, I turned to him.

"Take it easy!" I shrugged as I turned away, "I'd say to take a breath and relax, but it seems that you won't have a choice."

He fought against the restraints vigorously. A worthless action, really. I hooked him up to the ECMO in my lab. Now he'll truly experience what happens to anyone who talks to my (Y/N).

After that, the wait was over. I placed the needle into his skin as the chemical was slowly inserted. I smiled as his shaking body stopped fighting.

My scalpel found itself close against the man's skin. I pressed it lightly against him; beads of crimson came bubbling up to the surface.

"Let's get serious." I quickly sliced the skin from his clavicle to his pelvis. Blood surged up, trying to clot. Around the rib cage, another incision was made perpendicular to the first. The process was repeated on his abdomen. Blood began to drip down his sides. I smiled as I began to open his skin. It was like that of freshly killed game. Tissue that once clung together separated at the slightest touch.

I carved him as if he were a Thanksgiving turkey. His insides lay facing the ceiling lights. With an additional snap of my gloves, I poised my hands over his organs.

"Hmm, let's begin to look for where your god failed you."

꧁ᴛɪᴍᴇ sᴋɪᴘ꧂

"This, right here, is your left kidney. Whoops! There goes the last of yours. Let's see what else is here..."

"Ah, yes. Would you like to see your large intestine?" I had my hands full of his guts. "Or perhaps the predecessor?" The salmon-pink muscle was wound between my fingers. With a small tug, blood sprayed onto my uniform. I tossed the glob of guts aside and once again grabbed my scalpel.

"Let's see if you can stomach this." I cut open the lining, acid pouring out. A corrosive hisss echoed while the body digested itself.

I laughed. Not at the pun—that was terrible. I had been fantasizing about this moment ever since (Y/N) saw him. And like I planned, I crept further up his insides. I slowly broke rib from rib, going in depth with a medial explanation each time one was removed. If ribs don't grow back then he surely won't live to see the end of it.

"Here we are." I pushed my gloved hand into his chest. "No no no, this shouldn't be! You don't deserve this." My hand gently squeezed around the muscle. "I'll make sure to give this back to the owner." Red flushed the room. A low, continuous beep echoed through the walls.

It's done.

——-————————————————

I walked to (Y/N) as she headed out of her office at work. I held her shoulder, causing her to pivot on her foot, now facing me.

"Oh, uh... hi, Professor. Did you need me?"

"(Y/N), I'd like to show you some paperwork at home. I need it put into the system, but... I forgot to bring it with me." I took a deep breath. "The files are very complex, so I'd need to show you how to deal with them. Would you mind stopping by?" She quickly shook her head.

I smiled. "Then follow me." I opened the car door. With a few clicks, (Y/N) was in my car. She was in my car. I turned on the radio to fill the silence.

Glancing to my side, I saw (Y/N) staring out the window. Her hair gently swayed, bouncing with each hole the tires hit. She hummed along with the singer, softly singing the parts that she knew. Her words were breathy, almost afraid to be heard. But they were music to my ears. 'Focus, Miguel,' I thought.

The song continued to play as I drove home. When we got there, I unlocked the back door.

"Kids, go to your rooms!" My voice slightly echoed through the halls. I took (Y/N) by the hand. "Follow me."

I lead her to a wall. It was in the darkest corner of the living room. Hidden amongst the shadows was a copper plate.

"Ah, mierda." I took off my goggles and handed them to (Y/N). "¿Agarras mi gafas, por favor?"

She took them slowly, staring at me as the scanner checked my retinas. The door opened with a clunk.

I gestured towards the "After you." She took a few hesitant steps before looking to me for guidance. I chuckled before letting her lean on me. We descended down the staircase until we reached my lab.

She immediately went over to my bookshelf. I smiled as I locked the door behind us.

"(Y/N)." She whipped her hair around to face me.

"Yes, Professor?" I bit my lip. Hers were slightly parted, giving her face a blissful look.

"Come sit down." She did as I instructed. "Now, what I'm about to do may pinch." I held her down as I injected a small amount of morphine into her femoral artery. After a bit of struggle, she fell limp in my arms.

(Y/N)'s POV

I woke up to the sound of footsteps. I lifted my head and tried to look around. Why was I in a chair? And why can't I move my arms? My mind raced as I began to struggle against my restraints.

"Ah, finalmente estás despierta." An unmistakable baritone rang out. Was Membrane going to save me?

He came into view, goggles and lab coat off. His arms were prosthetics. Presumably steel or an alloy containing it. His eyes were chocolate with hazel flecks. But more importantly, his pupils were extremely dilated. I tried to call out for him, but all that came out was a muffled "mfph".

"No tan rápido, mi querida. Tú eres mía. Solamente mío." His cold "hand" traces my cheek. Tears threatened to spill from my eyes.

"MPMFPH!"

"Ah, tú quieres hablar. Pues, adelante." He ripped off whatever was covering my mouth. I gasped for air. The air tasted like latex and antiseptics. I looked up towards Professor.

"Did...did you do this to me, sir?" I stammered. His eyebrow arched as he placed a hand on his chin.

"Ah, inglés. Un momento." He cleared his throat. "Is this better, my (Y/N)?"

I couldn't believe it. "Answer the question!"

"Ay, mi amor, I had no choice. I couldn't risk anyone else getting close to you." His hands found themselves on my shoulders, slowly moving up to my neck.

"Get your hands off of me!" He quickly pulled back. He walked behind me, making it impossible for me to truly see him.

His once endearing laugh now plagued my ears. "My dear, sweet, (Y/N), don't be that way~! You and I are one now. You are mine. And I've brought you a present."

He walked past his desk, digging through his belongings. After a few moments, he returned.

"My dear (Y/N), May I present to you..." he reached behind his back and pulled out a bloodied jar. Looking carefully, there's... oh my god. Inside the jar was-

"Hughes' heart. He said it belonged to you, I figured he wouldn't mind if you reclaimed it." He smiled, teeth filling half his face as his merriment was finally shown. He set the jar down, took me out of the restraints, and held me in his arms. I was too numb to fight back. I sobbed into his chest.

Membrane wrapped his arms around my relatively small frame. "Shhhh. It's going to be okay. He would have wanted it this way."

"Okay."

#writing #membrane #professor membrane #professor membrane x reader

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prophecy-is-inevitable · 4 years

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3 and 14 from the kiss types with Michael!! ✨ love your writing ❤️❤️

3. A breathy demand: “Kiss me” - and what the other person does to respond. 14. A kiss so desperate that the two wind around each other, refusing to let go until they are finished.

Thank you for sending this request in! I’m sorry it took me so long to answer.

I don’t know if you had a specific Michael in mind, and I decided to go with Fire&Reign!Michael since I didn’t write him for Halloween. If there is another Michael that you would like, I’d be happy to write it for you, so just let me know! Bonus Sojourn!Michael blurb at the end, because this struck me as perfect for some soft comfort. Let’s say he’s early to mid-20s for these.

Fire&Reign!Michael: Price of Loyalty

Your knees quivered against his hips when he came to stand between your thighs. Michael had you caged in as you sat on the table, one hand pressed flat on either side of you, and he leaned forward until your noses nearly touched. His spearmint breath left his lips and flitted through your nostrils. You couldn’t bring yourself to look into those cobalt eyes. Not when you knew the violently raging storm clouds within them were because of you. The increased heat of his body’s clouding your senses with the taste of embers and chaos and rage was because of you.

“Say that again?” Michael’s voice was low and clipped. His eyes were on you even though you couldn’t manage to drag your gaze from one of the polished double buttons of his coat. You felt his gaze in the way the hair at the base of your neck stood. The fight or flight instinct was screaming for you to take wing and flee from the beautifully enraged man, even when your body remained leaden on the table’s edge.

“Mr. Nutter and Mr. Pfister have been watching you. Everything you do, everything you say. They’re playing you. They have an uplink inside of Ms. Mead.” You swallowed heavily and braced yourself for whatever retribution you would have to face on behalf of the men. They were the brains behind Michael’s grand, apocalyptic plans. You...you were replaceable. Any number of other Kineros employees would clamber over your body to be the Antichrist’s new little mole.

Quiet pops sounded in front of you. He was angry enough to be grinding his immaculate teeth. You were so screwed. The barely repressed rage left him shaking from head to toe, his golden curls shimmering in the harsh fluorescent lighting, and one of his hands balled into a fist that slammed down into the table next to you.

Your startled cry brings Michael’s eyes back to yours. This time you meet him, glance for glance, silently begging him to let you leave. Were you afraid of him, or the way he made your skin feel too tight and too hot around you? The way his anger leached from his body in warm waves your body absorbed and converted to arousal wasn’t right. It wasn’t right to want this man to use you, use his hands on you, his lips on you, to want him inside of you…

The touch of his fingers curling around your chin had your thoughts slamming to a halt. The caress was as soft and warm as a summer breeze; the sensation it brought you suffocated you like a tropical monsoon. Those beautiful ocean eyes you loved and feared roved over your features, and you couldn’t help but fear what he might uncover. You swallowed hard, and the motion of your throat drew his eyes downward to your lips.

“You are so good to me. So loyal.” Michael leaned closer until the tip of his nose brushed your cheekbone. His eyes were hooded, heavy with thought and intention. The hand still on the table moved to hold your hip in place and prevent you from backing away. “I chose well when asking you to be my eyes and ears here.” Like his entire presence, his hand was large--large enough to swallow your visage whole--and he used that to his advantage by palming the side of your face to keep you locked in his gaze. “So good…”

His praise made you whimper, and you bit your lower lip to force down any other sounds that might try to rebel against your composure. The last thing you needed was for him to see a weakness in you, any weakness. Michael’s lips brushed your cheek when he spoke and sent your pulse threading wildly.

“Kiss me,” he breathed against you. Your head turned so quickly to look at him, to look for any sign of jest, that you nearly knocked your forehead against his. “Kiss me,” he repeated more firmly, eyes flicking between yours and your lips.

Instinctively, the tip of your tongue slid along your lips. He couldn’t be serious. The small smirk on his luxurious lips said otherwise. After a moment of searching his sinfully beautiful face, and determining that he was very much serious, you straightened yourself up and took a steadying breath. You couldn’t look away from your new destination. Those lips that spilled promises of greatness and lies of grandeur, spoke poetic justices against humanity, whispered tantalizing ballads of sacrifice and sin. They were suddenly meant to be yours. With more determination than you had expected of yourself, your head tilted and you pressed your lips to that devilish smirk of his.

His arms were around you the second your lips touched. One wrapped possessively around your waist to bring your body flush against his while the other sank into your hair. Buzzing filled his ears as his lips moved along yours with a natural pressure that increased with your joint desires. This was all he needed right now. You were sure he could feel your heartbeat against his chest, or was that his against yours? Your legs wove around him, holding him as tightly to you as possible. If this was all you’d have of him, you were not about to let the moment slip through your fingers. You would sin and sin again if this man asked you to.

Bonus Sojourn!Michael: Enough

“My Ms. Mead is gone.”

Those were the first words Michael had said to you. Soft and sad, and as hollow as his tragically beautiful eyes looked.

Michael Langdon seemed beyond broken when they dragged him to your apartment above the Church. Why? You had no clue. You weren’t a doctor or a nurse. Sure, you were certified in CPR, but the most medical care you’d ever provided was cleaning up a neighbor kid’s sidewalk scrape when he fell. There was no way that you could provide what Michael needed, as much as it broke your heart to admit it.

You looked up at Madelyn when Michael spoke from your sofa, his arms wrapped around his chest and tears dripping down his dirty cheeks. What did they expect you to do?! They’d barely even told you what had happened, and now you had the Antichrist sat on your hand-me-down couch. He smelled of dirt and salt and defeat. She wanted you to “make him presentable” for their next Black Mass...in three hours.

He didn’t look healthy at all, nor did he look like he wanted to be alive much less healthy. His hair was dry and greasy, his face unshaven and unwashed. His clothes looked like he had been caught up in a tornado and spit out into a swamp. With a heavy sigh, you sat down with a cup of tea and offered it to Michael. Madelyn loudly shut the door behind her when she showed herself out.

“I’m sorry.” What else was there to say? Gently, you cupped his cheek and brushed away the tears streaking through the dirt on his face. “I’m so sorry.” His eyes flickered for a moment up to yours.

“I-I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. And now I’m all alone…” The way his face slowly disintegrated from sadness to pure grief brought tears to your eyes. His whole world was collapsing around him, and you could feel it taking his breath away. You could see it in the way his chest hitched with each uneven breath. A bubbling urge rose upside of you. The need to stay with him, to comfort him.

“You’re not alone, Michael. I promise. Madelyn will give you a place to stay, she's going to get you something to eat right now, and you’re welcome here any time.” You pulled him into a tight hug, your hand rubbing soothing circles into his leanly muscled back. Tight fists clenched into the back of your shirt. His face remained buried in your shoulder and you let him cry, whispering soft words into his ears. Whispers of better times and companionship.

For the next two weeks, Michael stopped over for a couple hours every few days. Each time he visited, he brought a light and a warmth to your home that you didn’t know had been missing. Like a fireplace without the cozy warmth of flames. Sometimes his mood was improved. Sometimes, he just needed to feel safe and to be held.

Today was one of the latter.

He sat on the same sofa, with the same body language, as the first night he’d been brought here. There were no tears this time, and that provided a spark of relief. Once again, you handed him a cup of tea and settled next to him on the sofa. Your arm hugged his close as you cuddled against his side, and your head dropped to his shoulder while you softly hummed whatever song had gotten stuck in your head that day. His head tilted until it rested atop yours.

“The Church wants me to start the Apocalypse.” Your humming quieted at the revelation. “But I don’t know what they want me to do. I-” He cut himself off and looked down at you. “I feel so lost and so alone. Ms. Mead would have known what to do,” he sighed. You smiled softly and ran your hand through his revitalized and healthy, yet currently unkempt curls.

You had learned over the time you’d spent together just how much Ms. Mead had done for Michael and how much he had loved her. She’d cared for him like no one else ever had. Your soft smile made Michael frown, and you chuckled.

“Well then, let’s think about what Ms. Mead would say. How would she make you feel better right now?” Michael ran a hand over his face and simply shook his head. He was declining again; you could tell from the shadow of stubble coating his cheeks and jaw.

“I don’t know. I don’t want to feel anything right now. I can’t feel anything.” He was afraid to. All the feeling he’d had only ever led to hurt. Your teeth worried at your lower lip when he turned away from you. He’d never turned away before. The silence between the two of you grew heavy. Maybe...you were no longer enough.

"Michael…" He only seemed interested in looking outside the window where the moon was glowing brightly, his eyes locked on the silver orb.

"Everything just feels...numb." Slowly, he turned back to you, tears glistening on his lashes. "Help me feel something. Anything besides this pain. Please?" His voice broke you, and you cupped his sculpted cheeks in your hands.

"Will you-" You swallowed down the question and decided to make it a request; you would be strong for him. A brief cough cleared the quiver from your throat. The words came out in a quiet, rushed breath when you spoke.

"Kiss me." Your eyes pleaded with him. Please, let me be enough.

Lustrous curls fell into his eyes from the speed with which he turned himself to face you. The lack of hesitation surprised you. There was only a moment until his hands seemed magnetized to your face, and then he was pulling you into him. Suddenly, he had you in his lap, his arms wrapped around your waist like he thought you might try to leave him. You'd already given your promise. You would never leave him alone again.

With as much strength as you could muster, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. Breathing was no longer something you required. You had ascended with his kiss on your lips and been claimed by a higher power. Your lips moved together in a perfect rhythm, as if this was the 100th time you’d sought sanctuary in each other’s arms. He crushed your chest to his and gently tickled your lips with the tip of his tongue in search for more--a gesture that told you all you needed to know. You were enough and he would never have enough of you.

#I hope that these are okay for what you hoped for!#Requests are Open #Fire&Reign!Michael #Sojourn!Michael #Kissing Prompt Asks #My writing #Michael Langdon #Michael Langdon prompt

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anonthenullifier · 3 years

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Hiii!!! I just finished reading your Snapshots fic on ao3 and they're all amazing!!! I love how you write the family dynamics between the kids and wanda/vision, they're all vv sweet and I'm here for it!! Do u think tommy and billy ever did a parent trap kind of switch for some reason?

Thank you so much! 😁 This was a fun ask and I hope you enjoy!

***

The sizzle of butter in the skillet provides a lively accompaniment to Wanda’s aggravation about the morning’s latest headline - one claiming that Tony Stark was personally responsible for the matchmaking that brought Vision and his lovely, currently scarlet eyed, wife together. It’s a claim not without some merit, if not for Tony’s involvement in Ultron’s creation and then in Vision’s own birth, he never would have been alive to fall so deeply in love with Wanda; however, as with most claims involving Tony it is also inherently hyperbolic. Had the billionaire actually been involved in Vision’s romantic pursuits, there is a very high probability that Wanda would have run the other direction.

“And you know what else it said?”

Vision scoops the pancake batter carefully into the buttered skillet as he responds, “What?”

“That he’s the reason Billy and Tommy want to be Avengers.” The only reason Wanda’s tea does not spill over the edge as she gesticulates out her anger is because she has wrapped it in a sheen of red. “Him!”

Grandiose sense of self worth is a rather glaring fault in the Stark family, a symptom Vision thankfully bypassed, no doubt due to the humble yet confident influence of Dr. Cho. “It is an unfair and misleading statement,” this diffuses her ire enough for her to take a sip of tea, “all that truly matters,” momentarily he turns from the stove to wrap his fingers around her upper arms and stare intently into her eyes, “is that we continue encouraging our sons to be their best selves, even if our work is never publicly acknowledged.”

Finally her face softens, the disdain etched into the lines of her forehead smoothing out with the roll of her eyes, “Fine.” Vision lays a peck to her forehead before turning back to rescue the almost burnt pancakes, “but wouldn’t it be nice if someone praised us for once?”

“It would.”

“Morning mom, dad.”

“Good morning Bil…” Vision’s mouth stops mid-greeting, brain a bit frenzied at the mixed signals he is receiving. The voice that just greeted him registers as Billy and yet the boy in front of him is sporting Tommy’s signature snowy hair and athletic clothing. “Um…”

“Tommy,” Wanda’s acknowledgement of their son should clarify everything, yet he can sense an odd amusement in the way she says the name, “why don’t you sit down, your father’s almost done with breakfast.”

To further add to the confusion of the moment, Tommy merely flashes them a grin (no snarky comment nor demands for it to cook faster) and then slides into Billy’s seat at the table.

Wanda’s hand comes to rest on Vision’s back, her voice low and a bit giddy, “This is going to be entertaining.”

“What is?”

“Just wait…” No further information is provided other than a wink.

Vision attempts to shove his curiosity and need to ask for more clarity down, instead channeling all of his energy into the pancakes and not burning them. Success at this repression endeavor is fleeting, the moment he turns to put the plate on the table, he cannot help but ask a question. “Where is your brother?” A glance up confirms it is three minutes past their usual breakfast time. Billy, like Vision, believes in punctuality and that being five minutes early is on time and being on time is late. For him to be late by normative standards is concerning. “It is unlike him to be late.”

Tommy chokes on his orange juice, eyes a tad wild as he twists around to look at the clock. “Um, I’ll go-“

“Good morning everyone!” Billy waltzes in with a cheery grin, his overall presence gregarious and brash, neither a word typically associated with him. His unusual mood is highlighted all the more by the uncharacteristically sloppy way his sweater is buttoned. “I’m famished.” A sentiment rarely shared by Billy.

Vision is torn between staring at his sons and seeking out Wanda’s reaction to whatever is happening in their kitchen. “Tommy,” his brother's name is overly enunciated, and the question, “Why are you in my seat?” asked with annoyance.

“Oh, sorry,” Tommy apologizes quickly, a first for sure, and then slides over to his normal chair.

This is, for want of a better word, weird.

Wanda, somehow, is making everyday small talk with their sons but Vision doesn’t process what is said, too focused on studying his children and the bevy of possibilities for why they seem so off. The initial fear is that they are Skrulls or some other shape shifting creature, a possibility they have sadly lived through before, not with the boys but on a mission with the Avengers. A vitals and physiology scan disconfirms this hypothesis (thankfully), the two bodies across the table are his sons. Despite this Tommy is eating at a snail’s pace, knife and fork working with precise movements to portion out perfect sized bites while Billy is going fast and loose with his fork, each bite different from the last. It also seems like Billy’s hair is a slightly different shade than usual, a tinge of cinnamon in his typically chestnut hair. Perhaps they have wandered into the multiverse yet again, though Wanda is his Wanda, he is certain of that and she seems to be more amused than concerned. Which means there must be a logical explanation.

Vision decides perhaps listening to the conversation at the table will better aid him. “Are you ready for the big math test today?” This is directed at Tommy, a pre-algebra exam Vision has spent several nights helping him study for.

Contrary to the numerous breakdowns that informed Vision that his son was going to fail so why bother trying, this morning Tommy seems...optimistic. “Yeah, dad’s prepared me well,” and overtly gracious.

“And Billy,” Wanda nudges Vision’s foot as she talks, always a sign he needs to get out of his head and pay attention, “today’s the mile run in gym, right?”

“Yep,” Billy answers while shoving a pancake into his mouth, continuing to talk while he chews, “gonna beat my record for sure.” This comment, and the smarmy confidence behind it, sets a new hypothesis into motion.

Vision runs a second vitals scan, this time focusing on heart rate and brain waves. The results are surprising yet informative, but just to be sure, he recalibrates his sensors, scans again, and re-analyzes it, not wanting to make an erroneous conclusion if his sensors were off. The results match his last scan and the oddities suddenly make sense. Finally figured it out? He turns towards Wanda, her face set with impish victory typically reserved for when she bests him at training. A dip of his chin affirms her telepathic comment though his own mood is nowhere near as bubbly as hers because despite knowing the truth now, it does not actually alleviate any of his concern, in fact it breeds several other pathways of uncertainty. Follow my lead.

The devious undertone of his wife’s comment transforms into an innocent smile as she addresses their sons. “Well boys,” both of their sons look up, “since it’s such a big day, we should celebrate later.” A shared look occurs between Billy and Tommy, one that Vision can’t quite label appropriately, a mix of excitement, bafflement, and victory.

‘Billy’ prods for more, his fork tapping the plate at roughly 200 clinks per minute. “Like what?”

Wanda is so natural at uncovering their lies that Vision can only sit back in awe at the way she effortlessly teases out the truth, “I need to meet with Strange later today, so Billy you can come along and we can ask if he’s finally willing to start training you to be a sorcerer.”

The current Tommy stares mouth agape at the offer, while the current Billy seems unimpressed, “Oh, um yeah, that’d be cool.”

“And Tommy,” Wanda reaches out to grab Vision’s hand, a gesture that is blissfully common but is right now no doubt meant to really drive home the offer, “Your father was going to do some speed trials this afternoon, maybe he can call the school so you can leave a period early and join him.” Vision was not going to do this but he withholds that knowledge so he doesn’t hinder his wife’s plan.

Tommy and Billy turn towards each other, no verbal words exchanged but Vision can easily recognize one of their telepathic conversations—bodies tense, their faces fluttering through a range of emotions, and eyebrows moving in emphasis of whatever comments they’re making. They break and ‘Tommy’ addresses the offer, “Billy has gym in 8th period.”

“Which is why he and I are going to meet with Stephen after school.” Wanda takes a deliberately long sip of her tea to let the information really settle in.

Their tactics switch to the other offer.“Isn’t uh truancy a pretty big deal, you know, if I,” ‘Billy’ catches himself, “Tommy were to leave early.

Vision decides he should aid in some way, voice matter of fact as he responds, “I do believe Tommy has a free period at that time. Plus,” thankfully this next part is not a lie or else Vision would feel guilty saying it, “I have to attend the PTA meeting tonight so we cannot wait until school is out if we would like to get a full session of training in.”

Another deep, very animated mental conversation occurs across the table, one that leads to an exaggerated roll of his wife’s eyes. “What if…”

Wanda cuts off the next suggestion, clearly done with the game, “Just accept that you’ve been caught.”

The two faces across from them are polar opposite, one shining with defiance and the other defeat. With a sigh, Tommy’s white hair darkens into chestnut, the real Billy slouching deep into his chair. His brother is not amused, “Are you really breaking that easily?”

Vision checks the time, noting their bus will arrive in less than 10 minutes. “Boys,” there are several things he wants to say, from questioning Tommy’s brown hair to why they thought they’d get away with it, but he decides those can wait, “perhaps instead of our planned celebrations tonight, we have a discussion on the harms of deception.”

Tommy, the real one, executes a perfect Maximoff eye roll, never one to appreciate the life lesson evenings that correspond with poor behavior. “It was just a joke.”

“I do not find it humorous.” And Vision does not, a deep despair blossoming in his chest at what his sons have attempted and what it means for how their sons view them, whether they think they are not loved enough nor noticed enough to be recognized by their own parents. “You intended to utilize this...joke for personal gain.”

Wanda cuts in, hand coming to rest on Vision’s thigh with a light, reassuring squeeze. “Why don’t you both change. The bus will be here soon. We’ll talk more tonight.” Muttered yes, mom s are lost in the scraping of their chairs against the wooden floor. “Tommy.”

“Yeah?”

“Did you dye your hair?”

“Yep,” Tommy runs his hand through his darkened locks, “the box called it chili chocolate.”

Wanda smirks, finding this far more endearing than Vision. “Just promise to use it responsibly.”

A not fully convincing salute goes along with Tommy’s, “Roger that,” and then he runs off in a blur.

“Wanda,” Vision waits until she looks at him, a bit unnerved that she does not seem to show any of the same concern for what just happened. “Are you not troubled at their flagrant disregard for honesty?”

Her eyebrows arch up, lips pursed the way they are whenever he has misassessed human nature and she needs to find a way to gently talk him through it. “It’s kind of a twin rite of passage.”

This is not forthcoming nor satisfying. “Did you and Pietro do this as well?”

“Once or twice.” His confusion must be evident, her lips curving up into a reminiscent mischief. “We weren’t good at it, especially once we were older. But you have to try.”

“Do you?”

A nod confirms the apparent necessity of such an experiment, though no further explanation is provided for Vision to comprehend why it is required. “You’ve never seen the Parent Trap, have you?”

“I have not.”

Scarlet energy entangles itself around the dishes at the table, floating them into the sink and away from their responsibility for now. “Come on,” Wanda stands and tugs on Vision’s hand, drawing him up out of his seat and then leading him into the living room. As she lightly pushes him to sit in the couch, a rush of feet, a banging door and a quick bye! marks the start of the school day, leaving them alone until this afternoon. “Want to watch a movie?”

“I suppose,” he wraps his arm around her shoulders after she sits next to him, pulling her closer and relishing the comfort of her head on his chest, “if it provides adequate research to understanding this cultural necessity of deceit, then yes.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

Vision considers the comment a touch longer than needed, just enough for her to look up at him in anticipation, “if it means a day spent with you,” he kisses her deeply, mirroring the soft curve of her lips as he pulls away,”then it is still a yes.”

“Good.” The tv turns on and his education begins.

#Scarlet vision #wandavision #wanda jackson #vision #billy kaplan #tommy shepherd #the maximoffs #ask anon #replies #mine

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lochrannn · 3 years

Link

Warnings: Sexual Content (M Rating)

Characters: Lila Pitts; Diego Hargreeves; Allison Hargreeves; Klaus Hargreeves; Hargreeves Siblings (background)

Relationship: Lila Pitts/Diego Hargreeves

Roommates AU; Fake Marriage; Slow Burn; Mutual Pining; Emotional H/C

Chapter 5/?

They meet at city hall just after midday.

Lila worked a half day shift and Diego had already been out of the flat when she got up. She doesn’t know where he’d gone, but now he’s strolling down the pavement to where she’s waiting for him outside the building with a thick folder under his arm.

“Shit, how many documents did you bring? I thought all they needed was a passport and birth certificate? Did I forget something?” Lila asks hurriedly, already rummaging through her tote bag, half hoping she’ll unearth some missing documents that she accidentally packed in without realising it.

“Huh?” asks Diego as he stops in front of her, “Oh no, I brought some work, I kinda assume we’re going to be in there a while.”

Lila looks up at him in annoyance but the angry complaint about how he didn’t warn her and therefore she didn’t bring anything to keep herself busy dies on her tongue as she realises, she’s never really seen Diego out and about before. But here he is, looking confident and like he belongs, in a way she doesn’t really, with his brown skin, dark hair, mahogany coloured bomber jacket, and black pants all warm and earthy, creating a complete contrast to the gray cityscape and sky.

Taken aback by how quickly her anger melts away, and not quite sure why, Lila just turns towards the steps of the building in a huff of mild embarrassment for how irrational she’s being.

Inside, Diego takes a number and sits down on one of the uncomfortable looking wooden benches at the back of the waiting area, and after giving the space and the smattering of people in it a cursory look, Lila decides that there clearly isn’t a better alternative, so she settles in next to him.

For a little while, she tries not to let the boredom get to her, but it’s quite hard, especially considering that she also doesn’t want to let her mind wander to what she and Diego are about to do. It’s not like Lila’s trying to repress the idea that she’s taking the necessary steps to get married to him very soon, it’s just that she’s very strenuously avoiding actually thinking about it too hard. She’s not too sure why this is the balance she has decided to strike and can apparently live with, but knowing her and Diego will be married, in those words, that’s okay. Thinking about what that entails and what it means, instantly makes her heart rate spike in so many different and indescribable ways, that she’d rather not touch that thought.

So she starts nibbling on her nails. But very quickly she has a niggling memory of her mother chastising her, grabbing her wrist firmly and saying, Stop that, you’ll end up looking like some trailer park hussie!

Irritated she pulls her finger out from between her teeth and folds her hands in her lap and starts bouncing her knee instead.

After a little while she notices that Diego who, she registered out of the corner of her eyes, was leafing through his file, has gone still beside her. She turns to look at what's up and is startled by the way he’s watching her intently. For a moment his eyes bore into hers and they are so close that shadows of memories of Diego leaning in to kiss her lips, her neck, and all the way down her body right after looking at her like that play out before her mind's eye, but then he says something and Lila feels completely foolish when she has to say, “Sorry?” in a small voice to get him to repeat what he said.

“I asked if you’re nervous,” Diego says in a very gentle voice, one, she presumes, he would probably use if he were dealing with a skittish animal.

Lila feels like this situation can’t get any worse, but just as she’s pulled herself together and is about to scoff at him, Diego goes on in a very serious tone, “Lila, we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to! And if you’re worried about taking back the money, don’t be! I’m not cashing that cheque till you get your visa, okay? You don’t owe me anything.”

This is just too much, so Lila shakes her head, mostly so she can close her eyes and doesn’t have to look at how sincere he’s being, or at the deep, brown softness of his eyes, and says, “I’m not nervous, Diego, I’m just fucking bored!”

“Oh… uh… right,” Diego answers a bit sheepishly and now Lila feels guilty for apparently making him feel awkward. So again she’s just about to speak, tell him, she appreciates his concern all the same, when Diego gets there faster than her once more and flips open his file again while saying, “Uh... if you want... but you really don’t have to, just it might keep you occupied—” he cuts himself off when she levels a raised eyebrow at him, expectantly, “You can help me look through these files,” he finally finishes, holding roughly half the stack of papers that he was going through out to her.

They are searching for a name. It’s barely any less boring than sitting around doing nothing. It’s just a seemingly endless list of unalphabetised names with addresses, a copy of a magazine subscriber list from the 60s. Diego’s apparently helping some genealogist with a project and though he agrees with her that it’s a bit tedious, he also argues that he is apparently being paid very good money.

For a long while they just sit in bored, if oddly comfortable silence, while searching through the names until Lila breaks the stillness, “I got him!”

She’s weirdly excited as she leans over to Diego with her page, finger just under the name Carl Cooper written in slightly faded typewriter letters.

“Show me?” Diego says reaching for the page but not pulling it out of Lila’s grip, they’re hands brushing as he tries to take a closer look at the corresponding address and Lila is suddenly very aware of the warmth radiating off of his body as he leans in so very close to her. She thinks she can even smell his soap.

“That’s our guy!” Diego says delightedly, picking up the biro he’d clipped to his folder and circling the name before taking the piece of paper gently out of her hand and smiling at her, the corners of his eyes crinkling distractingly. “Thanks!” he says with genuine gratitude.

“Yeah, whatever,” Lila grumbles, but she’s not able to hide the smile in her own voice, so to gloss over it, she asks instead, “Is your work always this boring?”

She almost regrets asking him instantly, because only the other night she got to see what it’s like when it’s less boring, but Diego leans his head back against the wall and his expression turns contemplative.

“Well, no… I mean, I guess, some parts are this boring. A lot of looking through files or going on stakeouts in my car. This one, yeah, this was tedious, but usually this kind of work is all part of the bigger puzzle I’m trying to solve. And then, when I get to find the people I’m looking for, it makes it all worth it, you know? Sometimes that’s loved ones who got separated somehow. Totally worth a couple of hours slogging through some files.”

He’s looking down at her, head still tilted against the wall behind them and Lila finds she can’t look away but also hasn’t got anything to say about what he’s telling her. She never took any interest in what a detective does, wasn’t even really ever into cop or detective shows, but somehow, the way Diego tells it, it’s quite fascinating.

“I’ve got a knack for finding asshole dads who are trying to get out of paying alimony as well. Definitely less noble work, but also necessary, if you ask me. And those often end up being the least boring of my cases,” Diego goes on and Lila wonders whether he’s just trying to keep her entertained now that they have no more files to search through. “ ‘s how I got this,” he says, pointing a finger up towards the scar in his eyebrow.

“Oh yeah?” Lila asks, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible about it.

She’s been massively intrigued by all of his scars, but at no point has she felt in a position to ask. Afterall, what if there’s a really traumatic story behind them. But he has a bunch of them. There’s the one in his brow and another behind his left ear. One on the top of his left arm, and one more on his right hip. Lila quickly stops thinking about that one and why she could trace it exactly on a piece of paper if she were given something to draw with, and also doesn’t think too hard about the long scar that reaches from his cheek all the way along the side of his head above his ear. Lila is genuinely a bit wary of what the story might be behind that one.

But she quickly draws her thoughts back to the present and the fact that Diego seems happy to tell her about the scar in his brow and so she asks, “What happened?”

“Asshole father who didn’t want to pay his alimony,” Diego offers with a light chuckle and a shrug, “Fucker faked his own death and then when I found him, I’d barely said a word before he smashed a bottle in my face. Apparently I was lucky I didn’t lose an eye.”

Lila hisses in sympathy at the image.

“Guess we’ll have to talk a bit more about shit like that before our interview with immigration,” Diego says casually and Lila looks at him quizzically as she’s not quite sure what he’s talking about. “Interview?” she asks.

“Yeah, we’ll have to do an interview to prove that this is not just a sham wedding,” he starts explaining, brows drawn together, then his eyes drift off to the side, “Lila, did you not know that they’re gonna want to see proof we’re, like, actually married? … Shit! Our numbers up! Come on, let's go!”

Diego touches her elbow gently and Lila follows him in a bit of a daze, not to one of the windows that are situated all along the long hall that they walk down, but to a small office that they are ushered into by an equally small man, who asks them to sit in the two chairs opposite his desk.

The next fifteen minutes during which they go through all of the proceedings of applying for a marriage license do nothing to settle her nerves, because again she’s getting to see another completely new side to Diego. She guesses this is what he’s like when he’s really on the job and considering how good he is, she misses half a minute of conversation wondering why his business is failing.

He’s commanding, not letting anything slide, but he’s endlessly cool and charming all the same. And for a second Lila is concerned it’s just the fact that she’s slept with him and maybe in this moment would like to sleep with him again that’s making her see him in this way, but she notices that the clerk they’re dealing with seems at least as flustered and is hanging off every word Diego says as much as Lila.

At one point she almost jumps when he confidently takes her hand out of her lap, laces their fingers together, and says, “We were planning on getting married next year but circumstances have changed and my girlfriend can’t continue her degree, so now her visa’s running out and we discussed it and decided to pull the wedding forward, we didn’t want to end up getting separated by this!”

The clerk nods understandingly and Lila could kick herself for not having put even a fraction of the amount of thought into their plan as Diego seems to have. It’s brilliant. This explanation for why they need a license now is believable but also contains enough of the truth that they have very little to prove at this point, except for the fact that they are, indeed, in a relationship.

At that thought, Lila’s heart skips a beat and her focus zeros in on their joined hands for a moment.

When they are walking down the steps after all the application forms have been sorted, Diego offers to give her a lift home, but Lila makes up an engagement with a friend on the spot and quickly heads away in the direction of the bus stop. She needs some time to clear her head after that whole experience.

Diego gets into his car, lets out a very long breath, and then tips forward, pressing his forehead against the steering wheel in frustrated exhaustion.

How can hanging out with one person be both something that is so enjoyable and so painful at the same time?

Lila was fun and sparkly as ever, but she also helped him out, took an interest in his job. And even if that was mostly out of politeness, she asked all the right questions and listened so attentively. And, god, her beautiful, lively face is so distracting, he hardly knew where to look.

Diego’s certain now that he is royally screwed. He’s done a lot of dumb shit in his life, but this takes the cake. Spending time with Lila is so fucking close to the real deal and within the next couple of weeks they will be married, and he thinks, maybe a bit overdramatically, this’ll probably be the death of him.

He sits back up straight, turns the key in the ignition, and moves his car into traffic.

But he can’t back out now, they’ve actually put their plan in motion, and Lila is relying on him to get it together, so the very last thing he wants to do is let her down. Even if it kills him, he mentally adds with a wry smile.

#otp: just be gentle #lila pitts #diego hargreeves #dielila #diego x lila #diego/lila #tua #the umbrella academy #fanfic #ongoing fic

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