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theidiotwhowritesthings · 1 year

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INEVITABLE [3]

din djarin x female!reader

warnings: language, mentions of the slave trade, canon violence, blood and injuries, PTSD flashback, mention of torture

word count: 6,183

Summary: It was like fate or destiny had planned from the beginning for you to be on the run from the law. With the words ‘I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold’ adorning your rib cage you always wondered what was worse: Knowing you were bound to being wanted or realizing your soulmate was a cursed bounty hunter. You had a mission to finish and no bounty hunter, soulmate or not, was going to stop you.

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03: CALL IT FATE, DESTINY, CALL IT LUCK

"luck is my middle name. mind you, my first name is Bad."

⏤terry pratchett

Every blow to his body made you flinch as if you had been hit yourself. Blood splattered into the air, raining down into the already formed pool, and your cries of desperation had morphed into moans of mourning. Rough fingers dug into your cheeks holding you in place and keeping you from turning away from the assault. Lips pressed against the shell of your ear. Poisonous words hissed out in a voice that made your blood run cold.

‘No, no. You keep watching. I want to make sure this lesson sticks. I want to make sure you know who you belong to.’

You startled awake with a gasp⏤ eyes wide and searching for Viktor. His cruel, cold laugh lingering at the back of your mind. But, he was nowhere to be seen. You weren’t in his palace. The cockpit surrounding you was silent. The lines of hyperspace casting a soft, blue light on everything it touched. The Mandalorian. A breath of relief left you as you sunk in your seat. You were safe. Well, maybe not safe. You didn’t exactly trust your new captor.

The room was empty save for you and as you sat up you realized the binders were gone from your wrists. Now, you trusted Mando even less. Who in their right mind captures a bounty and then leaves them unrestricted in their ship’s cockpit? You jumped up, staying quiet, and stepped over to glance over the blinking control panel. You were no pilot, but you knew the basics in case of emergency⏤ not that you’d ever put those skills to the test. How hard could it be? You pressed a button and when nothing happened you hit it twice more.

“It’s locked.”

You cried out in surprise and spun. Mando had climbed up the ladder right outside the open cockpit door but he only rose enough to rest his arm on the floor. You set a hand to your chest to try and calm your racing heart. “Maker, bucket head. You’re quiet.”

“You’re not.” He replied, then tilted his head. “Come down.”

Mando disappeared from view and you huffed in annoyance at how cool and collected the guy seemed. You rushed forward, sliding down the ladder, and when your boots hit the floor you spun to give him a piece of your mind⏤ determined to get under his skin. However, your eyes landed on the small, green child sitting on top of a crate now staring at you while his father rummaged through a weapons locker. Mando shifted enough that you were able to see your firearm hanging in the locker.

“Hey, that’s mine.” You barked. You had only gotten a step closer when Mando turned around and hit a button on his vambrace to close the doors. The tell tale sound of a lock being clicked into place. “Give it back.”

“Why do you only have one slug?” Mando asked.

“Why did you take off my binders?” You countered. It wasn’t something you expected to be answered, you just wanted to answer his question with a question.

The man shrugged. “You looked uncomfortable.” You blinked in surprise. “Where did you get the slugthrower?”

“It was…” His first answer had caught you so off guard that you nearly answered his own without thought. You caught yourself at the last minute and shook your head. “I found it at the bottom of a cereal box. I’m trying to collect the whole set.”

Mando sighed irritably and you took that as a victory. Although as great as it felt annoying Mando and getting a rise out of him, you realized that these moments you called ‘victories’ could possibly add up until the Manalorian snapped and murdered you. This scenario was like any other involving a bounty hunter. You had a person to escape from, and though it was a bit unconventional than your usual situation, you were nothing if not flexible.

“Alright Mando,” You crossed your arms and placed emphasis on the name he told you to call him, “What do you want?” He tilted his head and you shrugged. “Everybody wants something. What’s your price? What do I have to pay to get you to crush my fob and taxi me to Corellia?”

“Corellia?”

“It’s next on my list.”

“Why are you⏤”

You forced a frustrated laugh. “Why does it matter? Just tell me what you want and I’ll⏤”

“I already told you, I want answers.” He replied sharply. A soft coo came from the child, and Mando drifted closer to you. “I want to know who you are. I need to know.”

It was confusing as to why he seemed so desperate for something that had nothing to do with him. You rolled through the facts you had gathered. If rumors were true, Mandalorians were all about honor. You had saved his son⏤ sort of. He could’ve done it himself with that jetpack, but you hoped the intention was enough in this case. He didn’t shove you in carbonite, he let you sleep in his cockpit, removed the binders… Even now, he made no move to detain you. Did the Mandalorian want to help you? Was that it? Maybe he wanted to help you, to settle any debt he thought he may owe you, but he wanted to know he wasn’t aiding the scum of the galaxy.

“You’re not a slave trader.” Mando said. He nodded in your direction, “Not with that collar.”

Your eyes widened, hand shooting up to touch the metal welded around your neck, and gaped, “How… You don’t know that.” You pushed the words out firmly. Nobody assumed the gold choker was what it truly was. “It’s a necklace, bucket head. You⏤”

“No, it’s not.” He replied, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Not with those scars. Nobody claws at a necklace.”

Mando’s words were jarring. It would’ve been easier to handle him just punching your lights out. There was a slight tremble in your hands and you forced them into fists at your side to compensate. How had he even noticed? Nobody looked close enough to puzzle that out. They saw gold and assumed wealth. Any normal slave’s collar was made of scrap parts. Plus, Viktor had ensured that most of the marks you left had been healed properly. The only ones who hadn’t just lingered right under the band itself.

“Fine.” You forced all your emotions into the back of your head, out of the light, where it wouldn’t been seen or felt. You absolutely hated that this man was able to so easily get under your skin.“I’m a slave seeking revenge, Mando. Searching the galaxy for the man who used to own me so I can put a slug in his head.” He remained a statue as always. “Is that what you want to hear?”

“If it’s the truth, then yes.”

“Well, it is.” Sort of. More or less. That was the quick description of your mission, at least.

“Then why are you visiting cantinas? I can’t imagine a slave trader who is rich enough to decorate his slaves in gold would be hanging around the places you’re searching.”

Again, the Mandalorian wasn’t wrong. Viktor would never set foot in a public cantina, and you knew exactly where he was. Canto Bight. The issue was, in order to get to him you needed to find the ‘Reaper’ for information. Otherwise you’d never get close enough to pull the trigger.

“You’re right.” You said slowly.

Mando tilted his head. “Then who are you looking for?”

“A guy.”

“That’s vague.”

“Yeah,” You snorted, “It’s almost as if I’m being vague on purpose to avoid connecting to you in any way. Funny, huh?”

The cargo hold was filled with an uncomfortable silence. You couldn’t see the Mandalorian’s eyes, but you could feel his heavy gaze cutting straight through you. Growing up the way you did, born from a slave and raised with only one destiny for yourself, you had gotten used to being seen but not acknowledged. The places you worked equated you to a house plant or a piece of furniture.

Then Viktor saw you. He saw you. And the words scrawled on your ribs made you precious to him. He got some sick kick out of owning something fated to another. You joined a collection of others and you were no longer a piece of furniture to be ignored, but rather you were a trophy. An item to be seen and not touched. Admired but not connected to. As Mando guessed, Viktor dressed you in gold and flaunted you to every ne'er do well who visited him. That was your life for years, and it hadn’t changed until six months ago.

Six months ago you ran and your face decorated bounty pucks all over the galaxy, but you felt invisible. Nobody, save for a bounty hunter here or there, sought you out. You were a stranger on the street, a random face in the crowd, and you could live with that. It was better than the alternative.

Right now though? Standing in front of the Mandalorian you felt seen. Mando was actively seeing you at this moment, taking in details nobody had noticed before, and it unnerved you. He wasn’t looking at you like house decor or a trophy. He wasn’t looking at you like you were his next pay day like the other hunters had. Mando was treating you like another living soul and it bothered you that the sensation felt so foreign. How could a man who hid behind a wall of metal see you so clearly?

“If I told you that you could trust me,” Mando said slowly, hesitantly, “Would you believe me?”

“No. But it’s cute that you asked.”

Mando took a step toward you and your confidence faltered. You stumbled back a half step and spat a curse at yourself in your head. If he noticed your slip up, he didn’t comment on it. Instead, he heaved a sigh. “I’ll take you to Corellia, with the promise of safe passage, on one condition.” You nodded. “When I drop you off, you don’t contact me again. This? This never happened. We never met. I’ll crush your fob and tell the guild you weren’t worth my time.”

You snorted in amusement. “Deal. That’s a win-win situation for me, bucket head.”

Maybe you weren’t the unluckiest son of a bitch on this side of the galaxy.

Din was tiptoeing through a minefield. And, the only person he had to blame for being stuck here was himself. He shouldn’t have kept you on the ship. Kriff, he shouldn’t have brought you on in the first place. Din should’ve shot you a quick ‘thanks for the help’ and left you behind in Bespin. But, no. Like the karking idiot he was, he brought you along and worse he spoke to you.

There was still a lot he didn’t know. He’d be foolish to think otherwise, but he felt a tinge of truth with your admittance a day earlier. For years, for most of his life, he cursed his soulmark and he loathed the idea of ever meeting his criminal soulmate. Now, he knew differently. Not a criminal, just a person seeking vengeance. Din was aware that a bulk of the galaxy would still consider someone with plans of homicide to be a criminal, but from where he sat Din could hardly judge. He was by no means a good man, without sin, and he had very recent memories of mowing down Imperial after Imperial for the sake of his son. So, your half truth didn’t shock him or fill him with disgust.

No, what Din felt disgusted over was the knowledge that his soulmate had been wronged. The word ‘wronged’ didn’t even begin to cover the atrocity you must have endured. His soulmate. You had been a slave, treated as such by society and owned by some bastard, and that made every single molecule of his body vibrate with rage.

Mandalorians' belief in soulmates was by no means unique. They were very much like the rest of the galaxy in their reverence for the words. Maybe the one trait Mandalorians shared with the majority.

However, Aq Vetina was different. The culture nearly worshiped the concept of soulmates⏤ saw it as a true blessing and treated it as such. Din didn’t have a lot of memories of his home world. Didn’t have a lot of memories of his parents either. The memories he did have though he treasured, and one of the more prominent ones was this: his parents were soulmates. The reality of soulmarks was more dim than most would like to believe. Soulmates didn’t always end up together. For hundreds of different variables, but just because fate had scrawled words on a person’s skin didn’t mean it guaranteed them a happy ending.

His parents adored one another. Din remembered that. He grew up in a house filled and overflowing with love. An emotion as strong as that wasn’t easily forgotten. Hell, it felt like it was ingrained into his own soul. Tangled with his DNA. When Din lost his parents, he lost everything. Including his culture. The one comfort Din always took was who his soulmate would be. He knew he’d have a soulmark once he hit puberty, with both parents bearing it the chances of him not having one was incredibly low, and though it bothered him his parents would never see his mark he’d still take comfort in it. Just as every man from Aq Vetina before him, just as his father had, he’d find his soulmate and shower them with every ounce of love and adoration he could squeeze from his being. Din would find his soulmate and he would have a family once more. He’d have that love again.

There was no doubt of the love and care his Mandalorian buir and teacher had for him. Din owed the man everything. But the love was different. Not worse, not better, but different.

When his words formed on his skin, Din had never felt such joy and had never felt it turn sour so quickly. It was why the insult of who he thought his soulmate would be stung even worse. It felt like the last bit of his culture, the last shred of his parents he had left, was being taken. Insulted. Spat on. He spent years after convincing himself that a soulmate wouldn’t be worth his time and he was better on his own. Din didn’t seek relationships beyond flings and one night stands across the galaxy because any relationship would be a sad ghost in comparison to the memory of what his parents had. A reminder of what fate took from him.

Now, he sat in the same ship as his soulmate and it felt like so many of his years were wasted on an assumption.

Din was angry that his first words to you were a threat.

He was angry you grew up with that on your skin.

He was angry the mystery and excitement of having a soulmate had been taken from you as well.

He was angry you were treated as lesser than by the people surrounding you.

He was angry that someone had the audacity to put a collar around your neck.

Din was fucking angry.

It burned through his veins and had him seeing red. He was no stranger to anger, but this was overwhelming. And, the worst of it, the thing that made him burn alive from the inside out was the anger he had for himself.

Din never sought you out. He mentally and emotionally tossed you aside without even an attempt to understand. Din gave up on you. His soulmate.

The only thing keeping him from exploding and destroying everything in his radius was the depressing and mellowing thought of his father. His father would be so disappointed in him. His mother would be so disappointed in him. His buir would be disappointed in him.

Din’s spiraling mind tried to comfort itself. It told him that he was doing better now. He knew better now. He was going to get you to where you needed to go and tell Karga to drop the bounty. He’d separate himself from you and then he’d never have to think of you again. You’d be better off without him. All those thoughts only worsened his shame.

What else could he do? It wasn’t just a thought. It was a prayer to the universe, to fate who got them stuck like this to begin with. What else could he do? Din wasn’t the wide eyed little boy starstruck at the notion of a soulmate anymore. The years had changed him into someone that didn’t deserve that. That left him pleading as he sat in the cockpit fuming silently. What else could he do?

The answer given to him was the sound of your feet climbing the ladder to meet him. He huffed out a quiet sigh and when you entered his peripherals he questioned your presence, more gruff than he intended, “What?”

“Maker, relax.” You dropped into the passenger seat with a scoff. Din cursed himself. Again. “Your kid fell asleep downstairs and I’m not desperate enough to start talking to your walls.” He stayed silent and you let out a chuckle. “Although, maybe your walls would be a better conversationalist.”

“You should sleep.” Din replied. It was his best case scenario right now.

“Not tired.” You slouched in your seat, finding a comfortable spot, “So what’s your kid’s deal? You have a mid-life crisis and find the closest kid to adopt?”

You were annoying. You never shut up. Din liked the sound of your voice way too much.

“No.”

“Then how’d you end up with him?”

“It’s a long story.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but it’s still two days until we reach Corellia.”

Din shouldn’t answer. The less he knew about you, and the less you knew about him, the better. He should keep his mouth shut, get you to the world you wanted, and speed away as fast as he could. Travel to the clear other side of the galaxy. He knew all of this, and yet his mouth opened. “He was a bounty.”

Fuck.

“Seriously?” You chuckled. “Why would there be a bounty on a kid?”

“It’s hard to explain.” And Din really didn’t want to. “Empire wanted him.”

You hummed and he was caught off guard when you didn’t ask any further questions on his vague statement. He was surprised further when you chuckled, “Good for you.”

Din turned in his seat to look at you. “I turned him in.”

“And then obviously went back for him, I’m guessing. Since he’s, you know, here.”

“That doesn’t change what I did⏤”

“We’re all assholes and it’s human nature that the first thing our brains think to do, our instinct, is sometimes selfish and stupid. It happens.” You said without missing a beat. “The only thing that matters at the end of the day is if you’re willing to fix what you fucked up and the conscious decision you make from there.” Din could only stare at you in response as your words rolled around in his head. You said it so simply, like an offhand comment or passing thought, but it felt so profound to him. You shrugged. “I know, I know. I can be inspirational sometimes. It happens.”

Din found his lips twitching up into a small smile and he forced himself to look away. The only safe spot to stare was the control panel. You stayed silent and Din realized that if he focused hard enough he could see your reflection in the glass panel that sat in front of you. Without any attention on you, without the business of a conversation, Din watched your features soften. There was a melancholy in your gaze that stirred something in his chest.

“I can…” Din began and your eyes darted to look his way while he stayed facing forward, “I can remove that for you.”

“Huh?”

Din spun in his chair so he faced you, and he motioned to your neck where that damned collar sat. “That. I can remove it. If you’d like.”

Your eyes widened marginally and the surprise dissipated as quickly as it came. You shook your head. “No. I don’t want it off.”

“You don’t…” Din tilted his head in confusion. “Why wouldn’t you want it off?”

“It’s a story for another day.” You mumbled.

“But, I don’t understand.” Din blurted before he could reign it back. Never, ever would anybody in the entire galaxy claim him to be the nosy type of person. Din kept to himself and expected others to respect him in that same way. Silence never bothered him. Yet, that same sensation that stirred in his chest, urged him to learn more. It was the most unfamiliar feeling he’s ever had.

You shook your head. “You never take your armor off, right? Even when it’d be more comfortable to shed it all?”

“My armor is not the same as a slave collar.” Din bristled.

“You wear your armor because it stands for something. It represents a part of you, and carries a belief.” You replied sharply. “Right now, this collar serves the exact same purpose for me. So, no, I don’t see a difference.”

Din leaned back and found himself speechless. That was all true of his armor, but he couldn’t fathom a person feeling similarly to the kind of metal soldered to your neck. He cleared his throat and leaned forward on his elbows. “I chose to wear this armor. I put it on willingly.”

“Who says I didn’t choose to put this collar on? Who said I wasn’t willing?” You replied and Din found himself floored again. The melancholy in your eyes hardened and turned to something sharp, mean, and cold. “You can find a sense of protection, of belonging, and what once brought you comfort can just as easily turn into a prison.” You stood up abruptly and Din’s gaze followed you. You motioned to him, “Are you telling me that beskar never feels like a prison?”

You turned on your heel and left. Din didn’t understand how easily you were able to spin him in place. The question you left him with felt like a blow to the chest. Din stiffened in his seat and shook his head. He needed to get you off this ship as quickly as he could.

“You’re kind of a weird kid, you know that?” You were laying on your stomach in the cargo hold, kicking your legs in the air, while leaning on one fist. The child, Grogu, sat in front of you munching on a ration bar that you had scavenged for him in all the the Mandalorian’s supply. You hadn’t asked permission, but you figured Mando couldn’t be upset at you for feeding his child. “Not because you’re green with giant ears. I have no issue with that.” You continued. “You’re just an oddball. In a good way, I mean.”

The boy babbled between bites and you nodded your head as he spoke.

“Mhmm.” You agreed to whatever he was saying. “Yeah. Yeah. Tell me about it.”

Three days on this ship with the Mandalorian and his son hadn’t been the worst thing in the galaxy. You were fed, you had a place to sleep, and the walking tin can hadn’t murdered you. It had been a while since you came away with this many wins back to back. The last bit of real tension you dealt with was when Mando offered to take the golden band around your neck off. You hadn’t meant to take it so personal or make it personal back. You must have seriously pissed the guy off though because since then he had maybe only spoken a total of ten words to you. Even when you tried to egg him into an argument. You found you missed talking to him which meant you must have been more desperate for interaction than you thought. Why else would you crave to hear his voice?

You could always apologize for comparing his armor to your collar. The dig had been a guess. An attempt to get under his skin as he had gotten under yours. You pushed yourself up off the floor to sit criss cross and your hand drifted to the gold band around your neck. It’d be nice to have it off, but you couldn’t yet. Not until you dealt with Viktor. For now, you would just have to daydream about the day you’d walk around with a bare neck.

“I’m sorry.”

The sound of the modulated voice had you whip around in surprise, eyes wide and heart racing. Mando was leaning against the wall behind you. He must have come from the kitchen area or fresher, but considering you thought he had been up in the cockpit it really caught you off guard.

“Maker, how are you that silent? You’re basically covered in pots and pans.”

“Practice.” Mando shrugged. His hands were resting on his belt. “I’m sorry about,” He paused and nodded toward you, “you know.”

Your hand fell from your neck. “Why are you apologizing? That was like 48 hours ago.”

“We’ll be landing in Coreilla soon. It’s now or never.”

“Okay.” You mumbled. It surprised you again when the child waddled from around you and crawled into your lap. You scratched his head while he continued to eat. “I’m sorry too then. I didn’t have to drag your armor into it.”

“You weren’t wrong.”

Your eyes widened at his admission, and you weren’t quite sure what to do with it. There was an energy between you and the Mandalorian you couldn’t quite explain. The close quarters made you naturally want to bond, but from experience you knew that was a poor plan. Plus, Mando didn’t seem all that interested in starting up any kind of friendship. Which made sense. You’d be out of his life soon enough. You just wondered if you had gone too long without any real social interaction. Back when you were with Viktor, he had others in his collection that you had grown close to⏤ like sisters. You missed being social.

Before you could think of a bridging conversation, Mando pushed off the wall and climbed up into the cockpit. You blew out a breath of air as soon as he was out of view then glanced down at the kid in your lap.

“Why is your dad so hard to talk to?” You asked. “I can talk to anyone and anything, but that beskar may as well be a wall.” Grogu babbled another string of nonsense and you nodded. “Yeah, I mean he probably doesn’t make a habit of befriending quarries, huh?”

It was fine. It didn’t matter.

And, a few hours later when the ship was landed on the tarmac and the ramp was lowering you repeated those phrases to yourself again.

“Well, uh, thanks.” You nodded. Mando had given you back your weapons and he now stood inside the cargo hold with his son in his arms while you drifted down the ramp. You paused at the bottom. “It’s been fun, bucket head.”

Mando didn’t reply, but Grogu did offer you a wave which you cheerily returned. With one last nod, and a mocking salute, you spun on your heel and began to tread away. You had only gotten a few feet from the ship when you heard Mando call out after you. The sound of his voice calling out your name grinding your feet to a halt.

“Just…Be careful.” Mando said tensely.

“I always try.” You replied with a grin and a shrug.

As you continued to leave, your stomach churned in discomfort. The Corellia shipyard was dreary and gray which could sour anyone’s mood. When you reached the gates, the overwhelming urge to look back slammed into you. In fact, you nearly turned on instinct alone. A moment of weakness born from a desperation to connect to someone again. Shoving it as deep down into yourself as you could, burying it with the bloody memories and traumas in the graveyard of your mind, you pushed forward deeper into the city of Corellia.

It took you only ten minutes to travel through the city and find the first cantina of many. By time you arrived thoughts of the Mandalorian had been successfully shelved and you were seriously craving a strong drink. The bartender was kind and cheerful, the opposite of how this city of Corellia looked, and after he poured you a drink you drifted to a back table.

You decided this was going to be your least favorite world. Even in comparison with Jakku. Never before had entering a city filled you with such dread and distaste. Like a cloud of darkness had rolled over your mind to match the stormy clouds above the city itself. You were honestly just in shock that there could be a place worse than Jakku. That rolled into the realization that the galaxy was a big place and you still had a lot of ground to cover. There was a chance you had yet to see the worst this universe had to offer. That only worsened your misery.

Something solid, something you unfortunately recognized as the end of a blaster, pressed against your spine. “I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold.”

Fate just couldn’t give you a fucking break could it?

With a sigh, you turned around and began to mumble your usual spiel, “Would you really arrest your⏤” The words died in your mouth as your eyes landed on the man standing behind you. A Nikto wearing a grin filled only with malice and eyes that shone with rage. One who gripped the blaster tight in one hand while his other hung loosely at his side with three missing fingers. You grimaced, “Oh, my luck can’t possibly be this bad…”

Din was pacing the cargo hold while Grogu watched him curiously from the cot. Already he had climbed up to the cockpit just to immediately come down twice. He wanted to leave this kriffing planet. Why couldn’t he leave this kriffing planet? He mumbled a string of curses after the rhetoric question. Of course he knew why.

“This is a bad idea.” Din scoffed aloud. Grogu chirped and his feet came to a stop so he could stare at the kid. His son. Saving Grogu had been a bad idea too. A life changing one at that. That didn’t make it any less important that he went through with the rescue. Din had gambled, taken a chance, and his pay out had been worth more than he could’ve ever imagined. Could he take a gamble on you?

Considering how quickly he had given up on you years prior, taking a gamble was the least he could do.

Din sighed and grabbed his satchel to place Grogu in before hurrying off the ship. He didn’t have a plan. Then again, he rarely did. What would he say to you? Admit that he was your soulmate? Din probably should have done that three days ago. But with the way you had blown off the idea of soulmates, he had a high suspicion that telling you the truth would only worsen the situation. Besides, he was not interested in exploring the soulmate relationship further. Din didn’t deserve that. What he could do, what he owed you, was help in your mission. If he told you the truth, you wouldn’t let him help. If he kept it to himself, then maybe he could help you meet your goals and put you on a path to a better life. One you deserved.

There. Plan made.

Din knew he needed to find a cantina but he wasn’t sure which you’d be in since there were a few in this city. He picked the closest one and hoped for the best.

The hand knotted in your hair roughly threw you back to the asphalt ground of the alley behind the cantina. You landed on your back, the air briefly leaving you, and you stared up at Nivor. With a wince, you spoke, “You know, for only having two fingers you got a pretty tight grip.”

A boot slammed into the side of your rib cage before Nivor knelt down and pressed his knee against your sternum. Your hands reached out to claw at him, shove him off, but he grabbed your wrists with his one good hand and pinned it to the ground above your head.

“You always have something to say.” Nivor spat. “Don’t know why Viktor liked you so much.”

“You and me both.” You replied.

He applied more pressure to your chest with his knee and you clenched your teeth to bite back a moan. Nivor chuckled, “He wants you back.”

“I’m aware.” You snapped, breathless.

“Told him I’d bring you back, but I don’t think he’d mind a few missing pieces.”

“Wrong.” You glared up at him. “You bring me back less than whole and he’ll rip your head off.”

Nivor shook his head, “You’re overestimating your worth, little bird.” Your glare deepened at the nickname. “Viktor’s found a new favorite plaything.” The Nikto pulled a vibroblade from his belt. “Besides, you owe me some parts.”

“Is this about the fingers thing?” You replied. “That was an accident. I wasn’t trying to shoot off half your hand, I was trying to kill you.” You couldn’t help but paste on a smug smirk. “So really you should be thankful.”

“What is it they say? A leg for a leg.” Nivor dragged the blade up from your knee to your hip. Not deep enough to cut through your clothes, but enough to make you uncomfortable. “An eye for an eye.” The blade kissed the skin of your cheekbone as it circled around your eye softly. “How about a hand for three fingers?!”

You shook your head. “The math is not adding up there, buddy.”

With a cry of anger, Nivor lifted the blade in the air and at the motion his knee lifted off your chest. Using the window of opportunity, you rolled into him as hard as you could and he fell back on his ass. However, though his grip had loosened some, he still had a tight hold on one of your wrists and it kept you from running. You tried to twist out of his grip to avoid the blade he was swinging wildly now, and your free hand shot to grab your own dagger. Nivor was stronger than you gave him credit for, and once he gained his footing he was able to yank you back to the ground. The dagger you managed to grab clattered away from your grip when your chest slammed into the asphalt and a cry of pain slipped from your lips as Nivor twisted your arm back to keep you pinned down. Now, his knee dug into your spine.

You tried to reach around and grab him, but your fingers only grazed the leather of his jacket.

“For that, you’re losing your whole arm.” Nivor chuckled.

His blade pressed into your shoulder and panic flooded your entire body. No, no, no. This was your dominant arm. This injury would put an abrupt end to your mission and that was only if you survived it. Between blood loss and Nivor choosing a grimy alley to operate, your chances were slim. With another scream, you tried to shake your entire body in a poor attempt to knock him off of you, but you only felt his blade begin to dig in deeper. Heat flare in your shoulder as Nivor deliberately sunk it in as slowly as possible.

“Stop!” The plea left your lips and you immediately felt shame for begging this man for mercy. You heard his chuckle, the blade sunk a bit deeper, then with the familiar sound of a blaster going off the weight suddenly fell from your back. You were gasping for air, your heart still pounding as you felt hot blood drip down your back and shoulder, and when you glanced to the side you saw Nivor slumped to the ground. The sinister light in his eyes was gone and his features were slack. There was still smoke rising from the blaster burn in his back.

You turned the opposite way, whipped your head in that direction more like, and there stood the Mandalorian now holstering his weapon. You had tucked his memory away, sure you’d never see him again, but now you felt so relieved to be wrong. Seeing that shine of silver may as well have been the glowing end of a long tunnel. The little green child, resting in his bag by his side, lifted his hand and gave you a small wave.

With the arm that wasn’t numb with pain, you waved back.

taglist:

@onceinamando @hrtsforpascal @lil-dragon-draws @harriedandharassed @aheadfullofsteverogers @elfamosotoga @the-anchored-sailor-girl @garbo-lesbo @moonlqghts @stokeholdsblog @morks-watermelon @http-onie @chonkercatto @xalphafox @pedrojoe @zarahbronstein @cockscombkingdom @ale0m @shelbyteller @fallinallinmendes @grandtheoristpeach @perilous-pasta @love-the-abyss @kneelforloki @insomniac-nerd-posts-things

a/n: this was supposed to be my silly, funny, light hearted story, but the reader in this grabbed me by the shirt collar and went 'bitch nah'. soooooo here we are :)

#the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #mando x reader #mando x you #mandalorian fanfic #mandalorian x you #mandalorian x reader #reader insert #female reader #slow burn #soulmate!au

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motownfiction · 11 months

Text

swimsuit malfunction

After twenty-one years of landscaping and pool service, Mike Doyle finally installs an above-ground pool in his family’s backyard. Charlie’s ambivalent, Sadie jokes that her dad must have waited for her to get married and move out, and Sam’s thrilled. He’s always loved swimming. Back in high school, he and Steph used to sneak into the country club and act like they were there as Kim and Vicky’s guests. It was a shitty place to be – all those St. Catherine’s people, this time in swimsuits – but as long as it meant being in the water.

Sam’s always loved water. He loves drinking tall cool glasses and taking long hot showers. He loves swimming underwater, running in the coldness of Lake Michigan, and dipping in the Atlantic on a sweltering summer road trip. He doesn’t really believe in astrology, except for the way it led him to his best friends, but he does take to the water like a Pisces. So, when his dad puts a pool in the backyard, he counts down the days until it’s ready.

But on that day, Sam can’t find his swimsuit anywhere. He searches every trunk, backseat, closet, and hamper he can think of, but it’s nowhere to be found. His mother is a bit cold about it (“I guess you’ll just have to go without,” she says, quick to give up, like that was even an option). But his dad is warm. He offers Sam one of his swimsuits, and Sam gladly accepts.

This would have been fine if Sam had remembered his father is bigger, taller, and stronger than he, himself, has ever been.

Charlie and Carrie are already in the pool. They’re standing in the corner as Charlie shivers, and Carrie tries to get him to move around and get warm with her. “Hungry Eyes” plays on the radio in the garage, so Carrie dances and tries to get Charlie to dance with her. She’s doing the exact choreography from Dirty Dancing, which was her favorite movie last year (and probably this year, too). Charlie’s not playing along. He’s too cold. Sam decides to fuck with him.

He stands on the ladder and just … jumps right in.

And his swimsuit … jumps right off.

Charlie bursts out laughing, not unlike a goose. If he wasn’t warm before, he’s getting there now. Sam should have known it’d be his own swimsuit malfunction that made his brother behave in the pool. He turns redder than red and tries to pull the trunks on again. Unfortunately, this is not so easy when you’re standing in five feet of something as heavy as water.

Why does he love water so much, again?

He’s not sure what the worst part of it is. And then, in a flash, he’s very sure.

When the swimsuit came down, Carrie shrieked and covered her eyes like it was something she’d never seen before.

Sam’s a little surprised by how much it still hurts.

#drabble #writeblr #ch: sam doyle #ch: mike doyle #ch: maggie doyle #ch: charlie doyle #ch: carrie sullivan #year: 1988 #asks #unasanta #thank you!

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sigurdjarlson · 2 years

Note

Is Greg gay?

Canonically? I honestly wish I could answer this with a resounding yes but admittedly I’m not entirely sure.

I hope he is

This got long oops sorry 😅

There’s definitely a lot of things there that could point to it but since nothing concrete has ever been shown/talked about I can’t say for certain:

I think it would make him a far less interesting character if he’s straight

Personally I read him as deeply closeted. Partially because of his desire to distance himself completely from anything that makes him similar to his father. He doesn’t have an issue with gay people but he has an issue with him being gay if that makes sense

That’s just speculation though so back to more canon material

We know Greg is fairly receptive or at the very least tolerant of Tom’s insane behavior towards him which even to Greg has to be questionable at times. (“I won’t let go of what is mine” ?)

The fact he wants to be around Tom after he says shit like “I’d castrate and marry you in an heartbeat” is kind of wild honestly? Requited Tomgreg my beloved

He also has been actively seeking Tom’s company out more and more..which could be out of loneliness but he seems to genuinely enjoy Tom’s presence when he’s not being a dick. And it just seems to be getting progressively gayer

One scene that really stands out tho when thinking about Gay Ass Greg tho is the scene where it really does look like Greg spent the night with Andrew Dodds. He drops Greg off to talk to Tom while jogging and Greg throws “great night!” Over his shoulder.

This isn’t anything concrete. We don’t know what they did. They could have smoked weed and did Ketamine and passed out for all we know but..why show us it? Succession writers are very detail oriented. They don’t usually do things without reason.

It’s also interestingly enough shown right before he talks to Tom who he obviously has this homoerotic relationship with:

But then we come to the whole Comfrey thing.

Ironically the whole dating ladder arc made me more convinced Greg is gay? His interest does not seem genuine. That’s proven quickly when he at the first sign of reciprocation he loses interest in her only to gain it back when Shiv suggests he can get something out of this with Comfrey and/or the Contessa.

It just reads as very fake and forced and I think it’s supposed to? Greg isn’t being genuine with either of them but he wasn’t with Comfrey even before he started his dating ladder crusade.

His original attempts at flirting with Comfrey come across across very much as “this is what I’m supposed to do” and then it’s purely to climb the dating ladder and nothing more

Of course there is the possibility he’s bisexual but his interactions with women ironically make me more convinced he’s gay. Especially when you compare those instances with how he interacts with Tom.

Not to mention the narrative keeps putting him in the position of “other woman” with Tom in a way like they’re framing it that way on purpose I think.

The scene where him and Tom both look at their phones and meet up at a diner? Even Tom’s invitation the first time they hung out “ Shiv is out of town so let me take you out”

And like I said there are a lot of reasons he’s want to stay closeted. His own confusing relationship with homosexuality because of his father and the brat he works for ATN which pushes extremely bigoted material.

(Adds a whole other layer of depth to him not wanting to work there so badly honestly. He clearly did not want to blackmail Tom but he wanted out badly until Tom offered him a significant promotion and he seemingly decides alright I can deal)

His uncle is also blatantly homophobic and has been to his face even though it wasn’t aimed at Greg: (“I don’t want someone to find him at the bottom of some French Fag’s pool” “No..no none of us want that”)

And I’m sure he’s had his share of shit thrown his way for being the guy with the gay dad who ran out on him. Whether it be jokes in poor taste from his cousins maybe or Logan making backhanded comments to Ewan.

Also the environment he’s in in general is extremely homophobic.. Gay sex is constantly being framed as something degrading and wrong. “I heard you bent for him and he fucked you.” I know Greg didn’t hear that line but it’s a good example of the type of talk I’m referring to that’s constantly being thrown around.

At the same time he’s in this homoerotic situation with Tom. Because Tom’s attempts to use this kind of humor to fit in usually falls flat. It comes out genuine, forced or suggestive. (Because he’s closeted too)

And of course we have the infamous

Which convinced me that if he’s not gay then he is at least bisexual. I know Nbraun improvised this line but the fact they kept it in says volumes about what they’re letting be implied here.

And of course we have the Nero and Sporus thing which while coming from Tom..the narrative is pointing at the parallel. Loudly.

The way their handshake is part of ancient Roman marriage

And then we have the costume designers admitting they match Greg and Tom on purpose because “he’s Tom’s real partner on the show”

And I just…we have scenes like this where I have to wonder why is it framed like that

#succession asks #asks

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coffee-without-caffeine · 3 years

Text

Childe x reader ~ “Why’d you only call me when you’re high?”

Details: Modern AU!, Soulmate AU!, F!reader (if anyone would like a male reader I can rewrite it to be with a male reader instead and post that too) Character: Childe/Tartaglia (Genshin Impact) Trigger Warnings: A very toxic relationship in the beginning (not with Childe), mentions of the mafia, mentions of attempted kidnapping, childe literally breaking into your house(?). A/N: I love Kaeya but I couldn’t think of a better name so I just used his name for the ex. In now way shape or for is this how I see Kaeya or want others to see Kaeya so please keep this in mind when he is mentioned. Thank you <3

“The mirror’s image tells me it’s home time,”

The music blared from you phone as you curled into a tighter ball, pulling the polyester material closer to your face as it soaked up the stray tears. Why were you crying over him again, Kaeya, he wasn’t even your soulmate... Where was your soulmate? You’d been on this earth for twenty-two years yet you hadn’t heard a peep. Not a single word, tattoo, flare of pain. There was no red string tied around your finger like so many others had. Did you have a soulmate? Surely he would have shown up by now, or at least made his presence known.

“But I’m not finished ‘cause you’re not by my side.”

The song was little more than background noise now as you found yourself stuck in your own head. After coming to the conclusion you were one of the unfortunate people born without a soulmate, you had turned to meaningless relationships. You had thought they were meaningless, until you had began a relationship with Kaeya.

“And as I arrived, I thought I saw you leaving,”

It had started off beautifully, everything perfect and as it should be. You weren’t sure what had changed within the time you had been dating but at one point the magic of a new relationship had faded and the curtain had dropped. Not once has Kaeya made an effort to show he cared about you, all of the effort had stemmed from you. You were the one who woke up each day and texted him good morning, you were the one who would listen to him rant only to be shut down when you were crying and in pain. Every phone call revolved around him and what he had to say while you could do nothing more than offer up how you agreed with him.

“Carrying your shoes, decided that once again I was just dreaming of bumping into you.”

You had thought it was normal at first, you were both in a happy and loving relationship so why should it matter if he listened to you or not. He didn’t have a soulmate just like you, so why did it matter? You were meant to be together, this was the universe’s way of giving you a soulmate. Right?

“Now it’s three in the morning, and I’m tryna change your mind.”

It took you longer than you’d like to admit to come to terms with the fact you didn’t have a soulmate. Having someone else who shared the pain with you, the feeling of losing something you never had to begin with, was the best feeling. It had filled what you thought to be the gap of your soulmate, like fitting a piece into a puzzle that wasn’t from the same set. It wasn’t supposed to work but it did. You were so happy to have someone like you, or so you had thought.

“Left you multiple missed calls, and to my message you reply”

He had a soulmate. That piece of information had snapped the last thread holding your relationship together. You had clung to the hope that there was someone else like you, but there wasn’t. You two had been arguing, over what you couldn’t remember, but things had gotten heated and he had screamed that he should have never dated someone who wasn’t his soulmate. “You don’t have a soulmate though, you’re just like me! We’re meant to be together because of what we lack!” He had laughed cruelly, “You really think we were meant to be together? What are you stupid?” You watched in horror as he pushed his long sleeve up his arm to reveal a gorgeous tattoo of a bundle of yellow carnations. You couldn’t hear him anymore, you couldn’t see anything except for that bundle of carnations inked onto his arm. There was no doubt that it was the mark of his soulmate. “Get out of my apartment.” That’s when the tears had started falling.

“Why’d you only call me when you’re high?” Childe muttered as he walked down the bustling city street. “She’s listening to that song again? What is it now, the third time this week?” He thought, pushing his way through the crowd that blocked the entrance to the subway. Childe had ignored his soulmate for as long as he remembered. He refused to communicate in any way, never drawing on his skin, never singing to a song no matter how catchy (ahaha for ✨plot✨); not once had he tried to reach out. It wasn’t because he didn’t care about them, oh how he longed to hold you in his arms and whisper sweet nothings in your ear, it was the exact opposite. Childe cared deeply for his soulmate and, in his mind, being the soulmate of someone deeply rooted in the mafia was more of a blessing than a curse. The Fatui were feared in most towns, known mainly for their debt collection tactics and their deep roots in politics at a national level. Childe had been taken in at a young age, handed over by his father in hopes to pay off his debt to the Fatui (yes I know in his actual backstory his father sent him to the Fatui in hopes to change is attitude, sorry I couldn’t find a way to fit that in properly). Childe had grown up, and soon rose up the ladder that was the Fatui, eventually becoming a so called “Harbinger,” one of the highest ranks within the Fatui. So, deciding that living life constantly worrying about his soulmate was not one he wished to live, Childe had decided to ignore his universe given other-half. That is until the universe had other plans.

It was supposed to be a simple job, to give someone in debt a little bit of incentive to pay the Fatui back. They had found that Kaeya was close to a woman named Y/N. After a little bit of digging they had found out that Kaeya was in a relationship with Y/N, and that he had constantly been in and out of her apartment until a few days ago. Despite his recent break in the pattern of visits, his calls to Y/N’s number had remained more or less the same. Stepping out of the subway car Childe found himself running through the job once more. Break into the apartment, kidnap Y/N (yes, I know it’s cliche), leave a note for Kaeya and leave with you until he payed back his debt. It’d be quite a bit easier than most of his previous jobs, shouldn’t take him longer than two hours; the majority of it being the drive. What Childe hadn’t been expecting when he picked the lock and opened your door, was to see the very person he was supposed to kidnap cocooned in blankets, sobbing, and listening to the exact song that had been playing in his head the entire way here. Raising your tear stained face the two of you made eye contact, your red and puffy eyes meeting his wide and terrified ones. There was no denying it for either of you, the syncing of your breathing, the song that was now playing through both of your heads, you two were soulmates. Childe wasn’t sure how to react, halfway through the door and unsure if he was supposed to come any closer, he just stood there, unmoving. A pure mixture of fear and joy was pounding through this veins as he stared back.

You on the other hand, had no idea how to feel. You had spent your entire life believing you didn’t have a soulmate, and yet here he was half way through your door and a very bewildered look on his face. He was handsome, there was no doubt about that but you couldn’t say that your first impression of him was the best- seeing as that he had picked your lock and broken into your apartment while you were crying your eyes out. The circumstances of you meeting him had been less than ideal, as was the history of your relationship with him. You were so happy to have finally met him, that gap in your chest finally filled... but that wasn’t the only thing that filled your chest at the current moment; pure, burning, unbridled rage pooled in your chest and spread through out your body. You had a soulmate, but not once had you heard from him. Not a single sung lyric, not a single doodle on your arm, no tattoo or shared pain, nothing from the man who now stood fully in your apartment. Before you could process what exactly you were doing a harsh smack echoed through the space of your apartment.

Childe wasn’t sure how to feel now. After finally walking all the way into your apartment he had watched as you sprung from your bundle of blankets and stormed towards him. Apparently your way of greeting your soulmate wasn’t a hug or a handshake, it was to slap him straight across the face with surprising force. Childe was now looking at your wall with a stinging cheek and a blank mind. He found himself speaking to you before he could think about what he was about to say “Well that’s one way to greet your soulmate.” Perhaps that wasn’t the best thing to say to you. “Greet your soulmate? Greet your soulmate! ‘Greet your soulmate’ my ass I think I have every right to greet you like that when I didn’t know you existed until a couple of minutes ago! Keep in mind I have lived a soulmate less life for twenty-two years and here you are waltzing into my apartment after you picked the damned lock!” “At least I know you aren’t younger than me...?” And that’s how Childe found himself with not only a hand shaped mark on his right cheek, but a large goose egg on his forehead from the book you had unceremoniously flung at his face.

The two of you now sat on your couch, you with a freshly poured glass of wine and Childe with a bag of ice pressed to his forehead. “So you mean to tell me that I have spent twenty-two years believing I didn’t have a soulmate, because you were part of the mafia and didn’t want to put my life at risk.” “That’s exactly what I’m saying, I’m so glad you under-” “God nobody told me that if I had a soulmate he was going to be such an idiot.” “-stand... I’m sorry what was that just now?” Of all the responses Childe had expected, yours wasn’t one of them. “I know you heard me perfectly fine.” You snapped back, reaching for the book that now sat on the coffee table. The look of pure fear on Childe’s face was one you wouldn’t forget as he raised the hand that wasn’t holding the ice pack in surrender. Letting out a small huff you instead opted to grab your wine glass and drink the rest of the nearly full cup. “Look I could care less that you’re part of the fatui. While I don’t appreciate the fact you were going to kidnap me in order to get my ex to pay back his debt, I do understand why didn’t make yourself known all these years.” A guilty look overtook Childe’s face, one that made your heart ache, but you kept going. “We could have worked things out, I could have learned to protect myself better and you could continue to do your job. I understand you wanted to protect me physically, but you gravely miscalculated when it came to mentally protecting me.” There was a beat of silence before Childe spoke, his words carrying an emotion you weren’t sure you could identify. Three words that carried so much meaning and heart, there wasn’t a doubt in your mind that he didn’t mean them. “I’m truly sorry.”

Silence overtook your apartment once more, yet it was somehow lighter than the last wave. A mutual understanding, and forgiveness. Sure your soulmate was an idiot for not contacting you, and sure you could have not thrown a book at his head, but he was there. And so no words were exchanged as you rose from your chair and sat down next to Childe, leaning against his chest as he wrapped his free arm around your waist. You would figure the rest out later, but for now it was just the two of you- and you were perfectly fine with that.

“So would it be too much to ask for a kiss?” “Don’t push your luck pretty boy.”

#genshin impact #childe #tartagalia #genshin impact x reader #mango writes #genshin impact fatui #fatui #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #fanfiction #genshin impact fanfiction #modern au #genshin impact imagines

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alouispo · 3 years

Text

part two :D

“Is that a flying island?” Techno questions aloud, slowing down to a walking pace as he made his way towards the earth in the sky.

“I think it’s pretty obvious that it is Tech,” Phil deadpanned, straightening his hat and following his friend over the hill.

They both pushed through the leaves and trees, soon enough ending in a much less dense part of a flower forest. Blue eyes scanned the area, shocked at how nice this place looked. Phil remembered seeing something that looked like a flower forest back towards the main area of the SMP, but it didn’t appear as vibrant as it was here. Bits and pieces of that forest were destroyed or wilted away, some parts of it not even having flowers anymore due to them being picked or trampled on.

Was the SMP so much nicer when you got out this far?

“Well, Phil, I think anyone would be skeptical of there being a random piece of land in the sky without any warning,” the piglin retorted, pausing to let Phil catch up, who was currently too encaptivated by the landscape to actually pay attention to where he was going.

Rolling his eyes, Techno grabbed his friend’s sleeve and marched towards the spawn coordinates on his compass, ignoring the protests the older male made at being dragged along.

Soon enough, the two of them reached the top of the hill. IF Phil was being completely honest, it was not what he was expecting at all. He looked around with shock; there was a bunch of people living here! There were so many different buildings -that were all finished, he noted- and there was a huge lake right in the center of all of them.

“Hey Tech, can we go down there?” Phil questioned, trying his best not to freak out. This place looked nearly a million times better than the Dream SMP, and it only fueled his excitement. It reminded him of his hardcore world, which was only more welcoming to the bird hybrid.

“We have to anyways, it seems like spawn coords are right near the center of the lake,” watching as Phil immediately jumped down, chuckling to himself before following right after.

“Techno this place is great! Look at all the flowers!” the hybrid exclaimed, kneeling down to touch the wildlife that appeared so unnaturally for him. “Have you ever seen flowers like this grow near the SMP? They look like they are practically glowing!”

“Nope. We also live in the arctic so it wouldn’t make any sense for them to grow there,” Techno replied nonchalantly, stepping over the flowers in order to not step on them. “Now stop gushing over plants Phil, we have to find who runs this place so we can see what’s going on.”

“Oh you’re one to talk Tech-” he was cut off by the sound of wings beating loudly above them, making them both pull out their weapons and look around.

“Hello!” the pair turned towards the lake, watching as a blur of feathers floated outwards and a man stood before the flowers.

“Heh?” Techno questioned, staring at the newcomer as Phil dropped his sword.

“Welcome to the Origins SMP! I am the Crow Father, protector of these lands, and ambassador of The Circle. What are your-” the Crow Father paused, staring right back at Phil as their eyes met.

The newcomer looked exactly like Phil. Same eyes, same hair, same hat. The only difference was that this man had not been fated to war, one who still had his wings intact. They appeared much brighter in color compared to Phil’s, who had resembled the color of oil but still had all the colors in at the same time. He also adorned a white gown under a familiar-looking robe.

“Phil?” the man in question stared a while longer, grabbing the sword and putting it into his inventory as he stood back near Techno.

“Are you alright Phil?” the anarchist tried again, placing his hand on his shoulder.

He nodded,” I’m alright, don’t worry about it.”

“Well then,” the Crow Father said, brushing himself off as he smiled warily. “I don’t think you are supposed to be here? Am I right?” he asked, a crow of similar color as his wings landed on his hat, tilting its head to the side in at the pair.

“No, if that wasn’t obvious enough by there being two of you,” Techno remarked, putting a hand on his hip in slight annoyance.

“Uh, right. So, uh, mind telling me how you got here, mate?” the Croaw father questioned, putting his hands behind his back politely.

Phil frowned, examining the other. Did he really look like that? It seemed odd to see another version of himself standing right in front of him, behaving almost exactly as he would. He made eye contact with the Crow Father, as he called himself, realizing that he was doing the same thing.

“Well, we got transported here by the God of our SMP cause we broke one of the rules, and now we are here and have to try and get back before we die or something,” the piglin hybrid stated as if it was just another day of the week. He paused. Actually, it was another day of the week, what was he talking about.

“Oh, well that’s fine mate!” and he smiled, which made him feel strange. Phil hadn’t remembered how to smile like that for such a long time, it looked off on his own face. Which technically, wasn’t even his face at all.

“I’ll help you in the best way that I can since after all, it is my job.”

“You sure about that? You don’t seem like the type that would be able to help us with what we need,” Phil turned and punched Techno straight in the arm, glaring at the much taller male in playful annoyance.

“I was just being honest!” the piglin retorted, appearing unfazed by the action.

“Honesty is what is going to make me kill you one day, you whiny bastard. You’re worse than my Cshat,” he replied, narrowing his eyes and turning back to Crow Father, who was watching with great interest.

“Well, it still is my job of course, so I can at least try to help you. That’s what the boss appointed me to at least,” the other Phil said, looking up thoughtfully as he tapped his cheek.

“The boss?” Phil questioned, catching both of their attention.

“Oh yeah, the boss of this place,” the Crow Father said, sweatdropping as the bird on top of his hat started beating his wings aggressively.

“Do you think we could speak to him?” Techno asked, looking at Phil and then back at the protector, who appeared to be forcing a smile on his face as the bird pecked at his hat.

The Crow Father paused, jumping slightly when the crow started squawking incoherent words very loudly before flying away. “You little shit!” he shouted at the runaway bird, plucking the stray feathers out of his hair and dropping them to the ground.

“Sorry about that,” he started, brushing off his gown. “The natural wildlife don’t really like the admin. Not exactly sure why but hey, really nothing we can do about that,” he shrugged.

“Yeah, uh anyways, can you take us to the admin of this place?” Phil questioned, tapping his foot albeit so impatiently. He didn’t really like the Crow Father, as much as it was another version of himself.

He was not jealous of his wings, that was not it. Shut.

“Are you really sure about that?” The Crow Father asks adamantly, looking to his right and back at the pair anxiously.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t we be?” Techno asked, adjusting the chains keeping his cape on his shoulders. “It’s the best choice we have anyways unless you know a way to go back to a server where you most likely wouldn’t exist?” he added, crossing his arms and glaring.

“No, no, you’re right,” the other Phil said, resigned. “Come now, follow me, I’ll take you to the pube.”

“The what?”

It was not in fact, a pube, it was a pub. Very interesting pronunciation there.

After climbing up the unnecessarily tall ladder, Phil noticed that on top of the flying island was what the Crow Father had described as the pube. He had said that he was the one that built the place, although he didn’t necessarily own it. Another thing that the Angel thought was strange.

“Here is the pube, place where the admin resides,” the Crow Father said as he walked inside rather loudly, startling what looked like a full enderman. Phil and Tecno followed behind, eyeing the newcomer warily.

“Ranboo!” the other Phil called, making the pair look between the two in shock. This was Ranboo?

“Oh, hey Crow Father! What brings you here…” he trailed off, noticing that there were double of Phil and a really different-looking Technoblade both behind the hero. “Uhh..”

“These two are from a different server, which is why there are two of me and Techno looks really different,” the Crow Father explained nonchalantly.

“Oh, that makes sense. Anyways, what brings them here to the pube?” the other Ranboo said, standing up making Phil do a double-take. This version of Ranboo was even taller than their Ranboo, although it may be because this one didn’t have a massive slouch.

“They’re here to talk to admin to try and get back to their own server,” he replied, scratching his chin nervously.

“Oh.”

The four of them stood in silence as Ranboo looked up towards the ceiling, scratching the top of his head and contemplating something.

“The boss isn’t busy is he?” the Crow Father asked, his wings twitching subtly.

“I don’t think he is. Nothing has really been happening with the locals so he’s most likely doing some paperwork,” Ranboo replied cheerily. “I’ll take you guys to him!” he added, going up towards the ladder to the second.

“Only the regulars are here today, so there won’t be too much problem with you guys talking to the boss today,” he added once they had gotten to the top.

“Thanks, Ranboo!” the Crow Father said, going to knock on the door.

“Wait a minute,” Techno said, staring at the sign on top of the door in horror.

“No way,” Phil added, taking a step back as he paled.

The sign on the top of the door read the words ‘Innit Incorporated’, carved hastily into the wood in messy handwriting. Techno and Phil looked at each other, dread pooling in the bottom of their stomachs as realization dawned upon them.

“Sorry bout that, sometimes he’s talking with people so he doesn’t hear much,” the Crow Father said apologetically.

“Coming, I’m coming!” a very recognizable voice shouted from the inside of the room, making Techno groan as his fears came true.

In a burst of his above-average glory, a very similar-looking but not quite Tommy opened the door, looking irritated as he overlooked the people in the room. He had a bunch of feathers neatly placed in his hair and much brighter eyes than the Tommy they knew.

“What?” he asked, annoyance obvious in his tone of voice.

#tommyinnit #technoblade #philza #crowfather #origins smp #dream smp #origins smp fanfiction #dream smp fanfiction #dsmp au #dream smp au #osmp fanfic #dsmp fanfiction #ranboo

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splendidly-secret-sick-fics · 3 years

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Hi!!! Love your writing style you're so cool! I was wondering if you'd be able to write a sickfic focusing on atsumu and osamu-specifically atsumu taking care of his little brother! And maaaybe if you wanted to add some angst before it got better 👀 anyways hope you have a wonderful dayyyyy 😊

Anonymous said:

Can I get an unexpected sick atsumu that is at home from school with his brother after sleeping in. Their mother had the day off and didn’t feel like going anywhere so she allowed them to stay home. Maybe in the middle of the afternoon Atsumu starts to feel strangely sick but he hoped it would pass if he took a nap. He slept on the top bunk while Osamu plays video games on the bottom when he sudden wakes up without warning and starts to projectile spew. Caretaker Mom (cause I need some sweet momma content) and Osamu being supportive and understanding.

The Biggest Idiot of All Idiots: a Miya twins sick fic

Characters: sick Atsumu, caretakers Osamu & Mama Miya (lol)

Word Count: 3,426 (!!!)

Warnings: swearing, heat exhaustion passing out, and Miya-family shenanigans

Part 2

————————————————————

Thank you for the requests and kind words!! I combined it with one from @super-secret-sick-fics

I changed a couple details, but tried to stay mostly true to what was asked for! I hope that’s okay :)

This is gonna be a two-parter bc it got to be way too long. I’m not sure when Part 2 will be up yet.

I didn’t edit this at all (I never do, honestly) and I know I’ll hate myself for that later. But alas, I have zero patience so here it is!

Enjoy :)

————————————————————

Atsumu was rudely awakened by something annoying and probably stupid pushing up on his back.

“Tsumu, get outta bed ya lazy asshole.”

Ah yes, the annoying and definitely stupid thing was his equally annoying and stupid brother shoving the bottom of his mattress up from the bottom bunk.

“Why?” he grumbled and flipped over onto his stomach. He buried his head into his pillow and sighed. There was a subtle ache nagging at him on the left side of his head and he wanted it to go away.

“Cause Ma took the day off to do yard work and chores with us. It’s ‘sposed to be hot today so we said we’d do the yard work first thing. Remember? Or are you really that stupid?”

Osamu’s face popped up over the railing of Atsumu’s bed. His brother’s normal deadpan stare was accented by a single eyebrow raise of expectation.

Atsumu narrowed his eyes at him for a brief moment before groaning. He sat up and the pain in his head spread to encompass the rest of his head. Immediately, he was cranky.

“Fine. Just get outta my face,” Atsumu all but spit. Osamu’s face scrunched up, but he jumped down to the floor.

“What’s crawled up yer ass so early?” He mumbled, pulling on some athletic shorts. Atsumu wanted to respond with something snarky, but the pain in his head muddled his thoughts and he couldn’t think of anything clever enough.

“Screw you,” he settled on and crawled to the ladder to get out of bed. The headache would most likely go away after he ate something, so there was no need to say anything about it and risk getting teased.

Osamu eyed him, a frown on his face for a second. Then he scoffed.

“Alright assface. I’ll be downstairs. Ma made breakfast.” With that, he left the room.

Atsumu took his time getting dressed and ready for the day. He was moving slower thanks to the ache in his skull. The dumb headache also made his body feel tired and achy so he didn’t really feel the need to push things and make it worse.

“Good mornin’, Sweetheart!” His mother greeted when he finally made it to the kitchen. She was at the stove, flipping some pancakes, her salt and pepper hair pulled back in a loose braid. She was already in work clothes. Atsumu had to admit that it was going to be nice to spend some time with his mom. Their father ran a small convenience store, so she had to work full time to help supplement that income. He was excited to spend time with either of his parents when he could, even if it was doing chores.

The twins had, of course, offered to get part time jobs. However, both of their parents shut down the idea quickly, telling them to focus on volleyball and “enjoying their youth.”

“Mornin’” he yawned and sat down across from Osamu at the table. He was already half way done eating and scrolled mindlessly through his phone. Atsumu tried to do the same, but the tiny words and the blue light from his phone only exacerbated his headache, so he sighed and gave up. Instead, he put his head down on his arms and waited for his mom to tell him to come get his food. After a minute, Osamu kicked his shin under the table.

“Oi, what’re ya doin’?” he asked roughly. Atsumu rolled his eyes and exhaled, annoyed.

“‘M tired. That alright with ya?” He glared at his brother. Osamu kept steady eye contact, rising to Atsumu’s challenge. The lights burned though, and Atsumu had to blink. He clicked his tongue and turned his head away.

“Yer bein’ weirder than normal,” Osamu said with his mouth full of pancake. Atsumu’s lip curled in disgust.

“Yer disgustin’.”

“Says the pig.”

“Listen—“

“Tsumu! Come get yer breakfast!” Miya-san interrupted. Osamu smirked at him, smug about getting the last word.

Atsumu sat down at the table with a single pancake, half a spoonful of scrambled eggs and a glass of orange juice. His mother gave him an earful about not eating enough and he was sure that Samu would do the same.

Osamu eyed his plate and then eyed Atsumu and then his breakfast again. His twin pursed his lips, but didn’t say anything, shoving more food in his mouth.

While Atsumu was grateful that his brother didn’t comment on his smaller-than-usual meal, he was incredibly suspicious of the lack of insults.

The truth was, Atsumu’s stomach felt...wrong. He wasn’t sure what it was because he didn’t feel sick persay, but he didn’t feel good either. Starting off with a smaller meal and going back for seconds was more appealing to him than having a plate full of food that his brother and mom would force him to eat.

Atsumu ate his meal in silence and hoped that it would help his headache and the strange feeling in his stomach before he had to spend all afternoon doing yard work in the blazing summer heat.

***

Osamu watched his brother weeding the flower bed with a careful eye. Something was wrong. He knew it from the moment Atsumu woke up. His stupid brother wouldn’t tell him anything (if he even registered it himself, the idiot) so the only thing he could do was keep an eye on him and make sure he didn’t start crying or dying.

They’d been outside for about an hour and a half now, weeding, mowing the lawn, planting new flowers, and whatever else their mom wanted and it was only getting hotter. The sun wasn’t even directly above them yet, but the heat surrounded them like a thick blanket. It felt like Osamu was moving through a pool of jell-o while he pushed the lawn mower forward.

Osamu was sweating and panting ever so slightly, but Atsumu looked like he just returned from a grueling volleyball game. He was dripping sweat and his shoulders moved visibly up and down with each breath he took. Osamu figured that his brother was probably dehydrated and too stupid to admit it or too stupid to realize it.

“Tsumu,” Osamu called. Atsumu pulled his head up from the weeds and squinted at his brother across the lawn. He was pale, and all of Osamu’s twinstincts told him Atsumu needed to go inside quickly.

“Wanna go get lunch?” He tried, because Atsumu was dumb and wouldn’t admit that something was wrong, so Osamu needed to find some excuse for them to go inside. There, his mother would realize that something was up and force his brother to rest and hydrate.

“We just ate not that long ago. You that hungry, ya pig?” Came the snappy comeback. It had less bite to it than usual. The lack of venom from this and the weak comebacks from this morning only solidified for Osamu that his brother was not alright. That, coupled with the sheer amount of sweat and his continued heavy breaths made it seem like the idiot was dying or something.

“Screw you,” Osamu sneered (because even if something was wrong with his stupid brother he was still an unbearable asshole). “It’s hot and I’m working up more of a sweat. So yeah, ‘m hungry.” Atsumu waved him off lethargically.

“Then you go in. I’m almost done here,” Atsumu all but wheezed and turned back to the flower bed. Osamu took a deep breath and tried to remember that he was attempting to be a good brother and good brothers don’t punch their dying brothers in the face.

“Just come in and get some water then,” Osamu offered, walking to stand behind his brother. Atsumu looked over his shoulder, his ugly face contorted into confusion.

“Why’re you being so nice?”

Osamu squeezed his fist by his side.

“If you get dehydrated, I’ll have to play setter tomorrow at mornin’ practice and I don’t wanna.”

Hopefully the threat of being replaced, even if temporarily, would get Atsumu to see some sense. The longer Osamu studied him the more (begrudging) concern he felt. Now that he was closer, he noticed a glaze over Atsumu’s eyes and a flush to his cheeks.

Osamu surmised from this that his stupid idiot brother caught a summer cold like a stupid idiot.

Atsumu hesitated, but eventually, nodded. He put his hands on his knees to push himself up. Osamu let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. One battle down. Next he’d have to convince him to rest up some.

His relief was short-lived. As soon as Atsumu stood up, his knees buckled underneath him and he fell back onto Osamu heavily. Startled, Osamu just barely managed to keep his balance and catch him, holding Atsumu under his arms.

“What the fu--” he started, ready to lay into Atsumu, only to be stopped by the vacant look in his brother’s eyes. It was different from the haze he noticed just a second ago. It was like Atsumu wasn’t seeing anything. His eyes stared off blankly at nothing, half-lidded and foggy. He was still panting, but it was shallower, if possible.

The next thing Osamu noticed was how cool Atsumu’s skin felt, despite the intense heat and the flush of his cheeks. Atsumu, the dumbass, was indeed not okay.

“Tsumu? Hey, can you hear me?” Osamu asked. Atsumu’s eyes slowly found Osamu’s, but it still didn’t look like he registered anything. The only response he got was a whine.

“Shit. Yer so freakin’ stupid, you dumbass,” Osamu muttered. Atsumu groaned. There was no way he could get Atsumu into the house without help. Thankfully, the flower bed was near the front door, so he wouldn’t have to take him far, but the door was shut in an attempt to keep the hot air outside, so he needed help.

“Ma!” Osamu yelled, “Ma! C’mere, quick! Tsumu’s sick!” Atsumu winced at his brother’s volume.

“Sorry, ‘Tsumu, I’m sorry. Fuck. I can’t believe you--” Osamu said frantically, despite himself. He really didn’t like his brother, but he still loved him and this was still very scary.

Their mom was at the door a second later, concern already painted on her face. Upon noticing her one son all but unconsciousness, leaning on her other son, the concern grew to panic and she was outside and beside them in no time flat.

“What in the hell happened?” she asked, brushing Atsumu’s hair back. Her eyes widened when she no doubt picked up on the abnormal cool temperature of his brother’s skin.

“He’s been actin’ weird all mornin’. Then he came out here in this heat and I just convinced him to go inside for some water when he passed out. He’s so freakin’ stupid.” Osamu explained.

“Of course, the stubborn idiot. Let’s get him inside and cool him off,” his mother said, still holding Tsumu’s face.

“Yeah. I can do it, I just need yer help with the door and getting him on my back,” Osamu replied. The longer they were in this heat the more dangerous it became so they needed to move as quickly as they could without making things worse.

Together, they managed to get Atsumu on Osamu’s back.

“Hold on, idiot,” Osamu commanded. Atsumu buried his face into his brother’s shoulders. He weakly grabbed onto his wrist to keep his arms wrapped around Osamu’s shoulder. Relief trickled in to meet Osamu’s panic when he realized that meant that Atsumu may be coming to just a little. Yeah

As soon as they were inside, their mom went to the kitchen to get some water and wet rags while Osamu took his imbecile brother to the couch. He laid him down, putting his feet up on the arm rest (all the boys on the volleyball team knew how to deal with heat exhaustion) and brought the fan closer. He sat on the floor beside Atsumu’s feet and waited for him to come back.

Miya-san came back a second later with a sports drink and several wash cloths. She placed one on Atsumu’s forehead and he sighed (Osamu was once again relieved that his brother seemed to be registering at least a little of his surroundings). The others she used to pat down his arms and legs.

The next few minutes were tense and silent as they waited for the idiot of the bunch to cool down and return to the land of the fully conscious.

“Sa-Samu?” Atsumu breathed. Osamu’s head whipped towards his brother. Atsumu was squeezing his eyes shut, a deep frown settled on his face.

“Tsumu, thank god,” Osamu exhaled heavily.

“Atsumu, baby, can you hear me? How’re ya feelin’?” Their mother asked gently, sweeping his hair back and sitting on the floor beside his head.

Atsumu’s eyes trailed lazily to meet their mother’s and he took a second longer than Osamu would have liked to respond.

“Head...head hurts,” he whined and closed his eyes again, his eyebrows furrowing together.

“Mhm, that’s to be expected when yer a dummy that got heat exhaustion. When yer ready, I need ya to sit up and drink something, okay?” She said, cupping his cheek. Her words, though seemingly harsh, were always soft. They never failed to comfort the twins whenever they were upset about something.

Atsumu visibly leaned into her touch.

“H-hot,” he murmured.

“No, shit, idiot,” Osamu responded. His mother shot him a glare. He rolled his eyes at her hypocrisy.

Another few minutes later, and they eased Atsumu into a sitting position and handed him the green sports drink (which Osamu found gross, but was his brother’s favorite). He took small sips and deep breaths.

“I’m goin’ to go get ya a little something to munch on, alright baby? Call me if ya need something,” Miya-san said. She kissed the top of his head and left the room.

Osamu watched his brother with a careful eye. He took in the flush of his cheeks, the paleness of the rest of his face, his shaking hand that rested subtly on his stomach. Sure, he just passed out and these things should be no surprise, but something deep in Osamu’s bones told him that Atsumu was hiding something; that something more was wrong.

“‘M gonna go help, Ma. Don’t do anything stupid.” Osamu stood and Atsumu nodded. The lack of a return insult, the lack of any verbal response at all from his obnoxious twin set all of Osamu’s nerves on edge.

“Ma,” he said as he entered the kitchen, “I think Tsumu is really sick.” He leaned against the counter where she was getting some crackers to put on a plate.

“He just passed out from heat exhaustion, Samu of course he’s sick.” She smiled at him softly.

“No, no. I mean… he’s been weird all mornin’ and I think somethins’ wrong,” Osamu pushed. He couldn’t pinpoint it, but his whole body told him that Atsumu was being a bigger idiot than either of them realized.

Miya-san glanced over at her son. Osamu tried to convey on his face how strongly he felt about this, how she needed to believe him. She studied him for a second before nodding and turning back to the plate.

“Okay. We’ll keep an eye on him, alright?” Osamu’s shoulders relaxed minutely.

In the living room, Atsumu was lying down again, his head pillowed against the arm rest and his legs curled into his stomach. He was still frowning.

“Tsumu, you should eat something,” Osamu tried. The frown on Atsumu’s face morphed into a grimace.

“Don’t wanna…” he replied, petulantly.

“Just a few crackers, please?” Miya-san asked, sitting by Atsumu’s feet. He looked between the two of them and sighed.

“Fine,” he relented. Too easily, for Osamu’s liking. On Osamu’s list of Things To Hate About Atsumu, stubbornness was easily in the top three.

Atsumu nibbled on a few crackers until their mother seemed satisfied and left the room. As soon as she did, Atsumu collapsed heavily back onto the couch.

Osamu paused for a second before he gave in to his baser instincts as a brother and twin and sat beside Atsumu on the couch. Almost immediately, Atsumu repositioned himself to lean on Osamu’s shoulder.

Osamu felt the tension ease out of his shoulders when his brother exhaled slowly and shakily, closing his eyes.

“Are you gonna tell me what’s really goin’ on? Or are you gonna continue to be stupid?” Osamu asked after a moment.

His ill twin tenses again and Osamu almost feels bad. Key word: almost.

(If Atsumu was going to continue being an asshole, he would not feel bad if this came and bit him in the ass.)

“...I don’t know. Just been feelin’ odd all day,” Atsumu relented and Osamu’s eyes disappeared behind his hairline.

“Must be feelin’ pretty bad if yer admittin’ it so easily,” Osamu teased. The guilt pooling in his stomach was not something he’d share with his brother easily. His pride wouldn’t let him.

That didn’t take away from the fact that it was there though. Of course it was. Osamu could tell something was off the second he looked at Atsumu’s face this morning, yet he let him go on and work in the scorching sun all morning.

“Mmm,” Atsumu hummed, easing further into his brother’s side.

“Can ya tell me what’s wrong?” Osamu rested his head on Atsumu’s.

“Head hurts. Stomach’s been feelin’ weird,” Atsumu yawned. Osamu nodded.

“Wanna go take a shower and lay in bed?”

“Can’t move even if I wanted to.”

“I’ll help ya, stupid,” Osamu scoffed.

“Why’re you bein’ so nice?” Atsumu asked again. Osamu wouldn’t acknowledge the twinge in his chest that came when Atsumu didn’t believe that Osamu could be nice to him when he needed to be.

“No one else is gonna be,” he said instead.

“Ma’s here,” came the rebuttal.

“Let’s just go upstairs. You should get some rest so I don’t have to sub for ya at practice tomorrow.”

“Hate to admit it, Samu, but I don’t think I’ll make practice tomorrow,” Atsumu grumbled.

And well. Fuck. If Atsumu was already thinking that way, if he wasn’t fighting him about practice, wasn’t convinced he’d go tomorrow, then he must be really sick. The rock in Osamu’s stomach got a little heavier.

“Let’s go,” Osamu said. Atsumu nodded.

“Ma! I’m taking Tsumu upstairs to shower and get in bed!” Osamu called to their mom.

With that, Osamu eased his brother to stand, trying to ignore the way his face paled when he was upright, and slowly they made their way upstairs.

Osamu made Atsumu take a cold shower before he allowed him to settle into bed.

(Atsumu protested and whined the whole time. Osamu kept to himself that the argument that ensued made him feel a little better about Atsumu’s overall condition.)

Atsumu fell asleep almost instantly, curled into a ball around his pillow. Osamu gave him a sweatshirt and some athletic shorts to wear because he kept complaining about being cold. Convincing him that it was just because of the shower and that he’d warm up proved completely fruitless, so in the end Osamu relented.

Looking at his brother now, Osamu could tell that the worst was yet to come. Again, it was just a gut feeling. It set him on edge and kept his shoulders tight by his ears.

When Miya-san came to check on them, Osamu apologized, and though it meant showing his concern for his idiotic brother, asked her if he could skip their chores for the rest of the day and hang out in their room to keep an eye on Atsumu.

(Their mother was the one person they couldn’t lie to; she’d see past their proud facades and break them down with her eyes until they relented and told her what was really happening. Eventually, they stopped trying to lie to her.)

She agreed easily and told him she would run out to the store to prepare for the worst case scenario (see: Atsumu being a whiny little pissant). Osamu shouldn’t have been surprised that she believed him about his weird gut feeling. Thinking back on it, the two twins always knew when something was wrong with the other.

Miya-san left and Osamu took one last look at his brother sleeping on the top bunk before settling on the floor in front of his own bed. He grabbed an X-Box remote and turned on some game he’s played a thousand times, the volume low, and waited for the other shoe to drop.

#haikyuu sickfic #sick atsumu #caretaker Osamu #miya atsumu #miya osamu #tw fainting #heat exhaustion #mamma miya

60 notes · View notes

literaryfic · 3 years

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Chapters: 1/?  Fandom: 빈센조 | Vincenzo (TV)  Rating: Explicit  Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Vincenzo Cassano | Park Joo Hyeong/Hong Cha Young Characters: Hong Cha Young, Vincenzo Cassano | Park Joo Hyeong Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Italian Mafia, (i know nothing about the mafia so this will be very inaccurate!!!), basically vincenzo & cha-young being mafia bosses in italy

 Summary: When Vincenzo Cassano came back to Italy, no one expected to see someone by his side. Or how Cha-young and Vincenzo became the head of the Cassano family. a mafia couple au inspired by a discussion with @ourgalaxybangtan @ghostrights & @whovie-reloaded

Vincenzo had been handling most of the family business since their adoptive father’s health had started to decline. As the consigliere of the Cassano family, he was Fabio’s most trusted man, his advisor, his lawyer but also his second-in-command.

It hadn’t been easy, all these years, to climb the ladder. He wasn’t a native, he wasn’t blood, and so not many people had welcomed him at first. That’s why he had to become ruthless, so that no one could deny his authority or even dare to try. He had killed and tortured many men, broken their minds and their bones, burned their flesh and cut off their limbs, ashes and screams trailing behind him. If he wasn’t proud of the blood on his hands, he was at least proud of his work. All the hours he’d spent training, fighting, preparing, scheming, studying, all his efforts to erase Park Joo-hyung from the face of earth had paid off. The scared, weak little kid was gone, buried with all his other victims. ‘An eye for an eye, and then some’, Vincenzo lived by that, and he would stop at nothing except killing the innocent. There was no doubt he was the best at what he did and anyone who did not respect him feared him enough to not threaten him. His success was the Cassano family’s success, yet he knew that members of his own clan would not hesitate to have him killed if they could. Two clear factions had formed in the past five years, those who supported Vincenzo as the next head of the family, and those who supported Paolo, his brother. Paolo and Vincenzo had never gotten along, and Paolo’s inferiority complex and jealousy grew deeper every time his older brother had to clean up after one of his rushed job. Paolo had a particular taste for violence. Whereas Vincenzo killed and tortured because he had to, Paolo got a kick out of hurting others, be it children, women or elders. He loved to assert his dominance, to feel almighty. Vincenzo didn’t think himself much better than him, (regardless of the reasons behind his murders, he’d probably killed way more than him), but he wanted Paolo to be punished for his sins. It was only a matter of time before some influential family members whispered plans of assassination and of ‘restoring the rightful heir’ into his ear. Paolo was an angry, frustrated man who wasn’t particularly good at his job, an easy puppet to control. He’d been watching them carefully but he knew that as long as his father was alive, no one would dare to touch him. Back then he had thought he would take care of them when it came to it, become the head of his family, and continue to rule the underworld. Then, the incident happened and everything changed. He hadn’t been able to sleep for weeks, his victims’ screams haunting his dreams. He started avoiding mirrors, his reflection taunting him. He barely ate anymore, and Fabio had reminded him to get a grip. So he had done just that. He drank himself to sleep or took sleeping pills, and he went on. He knew, however, that he could not go on like this much longer. He had to get out before he buried himself next to Park Joo-hyung and all the others whose lives he’d taken. He’d started to plan his escape secretly. He would wait until his father died, staying loyal to him as long as he was alive. When the time came, he knew Paolo would try to kill him. The power struggle between them would start as soon as the head of the family would die, but instead of destroying his opponents, Vincenzo would seize the opportunity to leave. He would go back to South Korea, get the gold and leave to an island, where he would spend the rest of his days. The death of his previous Chinese client was perfect timing. As expected, Fabio, his boss and adoptive father, had named him the next head of the family in his will. It came to no surprise to most members, but murmurs spread quickly, “Can you imagine? A foreigner, as the head of our family? What has the world become?”. After wrapping things up in Italy, Vincenzo promised himself to never return, throwing away the key to the graveyard of his sins. …. There’s no going back from this, he thinks. Vincenzo is still holding Cha-young’s face, unable to look away from her lips, still wet from the kiss. Her pink cheeks, her smeared lipstick, the freckles under her fondation. Her. Hong Cha-young. His heart is soaring in his chest, all the emotions he had desperately tried to silence erupting all at once. There was no point in denying it, he had fallen in love with her. All he could do now was break his own heart, hoping it would heal. …. He realises he can’t live without her after she gets injured. They’re trying to get more information on Jang Han-seok’s paper company, and this time they’re trying to prove that some of the transactions made to European bank accounts were bribes. They’re breaking into none other than the Minister of Economy and Finance, Cha Do-won’s house. Miri had made sure to deactivate the security system and cameras, and Vincenzo was in charge of securing the place while Cha-young searched for the secret ledger the Minister kept hidden in his office. Cha Do-won was making a speech right now, and they had assumed most of his personal security would be with him. Vincenzo had quickly incapacitated the few men around the house and Cha-young looked for the ledger. After a few minutes, she found a hidden drawer in his desk. There it was, a thick documents labelled 'Accounts’. Subtlety wasn’t one of his strong points, apparently. They were about to leave when suddenly, a dozen men started to raid the place. Vincenzo fought them off as best as he could, and he was grateful that Mr. Lee barged in to help. They thought they had them all beat, and so Vincenzo made a mistake. He turned his back to the door to look for Cha-young, who he thought was behind him. “Vincenzo!”, he heard her shout his name. He sees her across the room, about to get struck by a man. He rushes to her and knocks him out quick enough. “Oh my God”, she says, “Did you see that? I almost died! He had a knife as well, and I dodged it, and then I ran—”. She keeps rambling while they get out of the house and into their car, clearly in shock. She’s getting paler as time passes, and he only notices the blood that pooled on the seat when she tries to get out of the car. She was stabbed, but the shock and adrenaline had prevented her from feeling any pain. “Oh”, she says, looking down at her wound. Vincenzo jumps out of his seat and rips the bottom half of the T-Shirt he’s wearing. “I don’t think now’s the time for that, Darling.” Even in a life-threatening situation, Cha-young is joking around. Vincenzo’s mind stops, he feels paralysed by fear, the fear of losing her, of her dying in his car, because of him. He pushes those thoughts away as he holds the fabric to her wound. “Hold this, as hard as you can.” The rest of the car ride to the hospital is a blur of running red lights, speeding in between traffic and repeating “Hong Cha-young, stay with me.” Vincenzo had faced death everyday for the last 20 years. He had killed, had seen people kill and had almost died countless of time. “There’s no limit to fear”, he’d once said to Jang Han-seok’s informant. Only now, waiting for Cha-young’s surgery to be over, does he understand what those words truly mean. During 6 hours, Vincenzo pleads and begs God, the devil, anyone willing to listen (Don’t take her. Everyone but her). He makes empty promises (I’ll do anything. I’ll stop hurting others, I’ll disappear from her life) and meaningless threats (Don’t you dare take her. I’ll kill you, too). In the end he doesn’t know who answers his prayers, and what promises seals the deal, but Cha-young wakes up and he doesn’t care. He holds her hand, stays by her side, and vows to never leave her. He starts to plan for an escape route shortly after that. In case they can’t stay in South Korea and need to take off. First, he thinks of Malta, or another island. But they would need to go somewhere they have allies, somewhere with an easy access to emergency money and resources. Italy. He contacts Luca and sets everything up, a two bed-room apartment, two bank accounts, and everything they could ever need like cash, some guns, and a car. “Consigliere, will there be another person with you?”, Luca asks. “Hopefully it won’t come to that”, he avoids the question. He knows he promised not to come back, but some promises need to be broken out of necessity. He needed to make Cha-young was safe, at all cost. His brother’s betrayal had made it easier. He’d been caught in the crossfire of their fight against Babel, killed by Choi Myung-hee in order to frame Vincenzo. But they had proved his innocence, and sent back his corpse in Milan. After Fabio’s death, Paolo hadn’t been the best replacement, and after he was killed in South Korea, they’d put in charge one of their cousins who had neither Fabio’s experience, nor Vincenzo’s mastermind. The family was in a crisis, which didn’t go unnoticed by their rivals. Soon, business started to slow down, their clients stolen by the competition and their allies started to switch teams. Money ran low. For that reason, Vincenzo didn’t run into much opposition when he came back. Most members and people in their business thought he had killed Paolo after he’d unreasonably followed him to South Korea and tried to finish him. Paolo only left disappointment and resentment behind him, and so no one missed him much. What they had not expected, however, was for Vincenzo Cassano to come back with someone.

#vincenzo #vincenzo fic #chayenzo #chayenzo fic

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anjuschiffer · 3 years

Text

Unrequited

For Timari January - Day 16: “Why would I ever date someone like you?”

Tags: @timari-month-event @theatreandcomicfreak @damianette-is-life @toodaloo-kangaroo @elijahcrevan @vixen-uchiha @nathleigh

AO3

“He’s just perfect!” Marinette ended her rant with a dreamily sigh, squealing when she picked up a stuffed animal in the shape of a black cat.

She petted the thing like it was an actual cat, even going as far as tickling it under its chin. Tim frowned as continued to fawn over the mangy thing, forcing himself to type away at his recent case.

“I know I said I wanted us to have a hamster, but now that I think about it, I don’t think Adrien would mind having a cat. Oh! We can name it Noir! Maybe-” Tim tuned Marinette out again, attempting to cool himself down. “-do you think Tim?” he snapped from his turmoil. He looked up from his screen, noticing that Marinette had her hair down before using one hand to put it into a ponytail.

“Is this for that group hangout later today?” Tim asked her, Marinette picking up on his annoyance.

“Tim. Are you alright?” She asked, letting her hair drop and deciding to sit by his feet. “Is Bruce-”

“I’m fine.” Tim gritted out, huffing before turning his attention back to the screen in front of him. “Ponytail.”

“Tim, we’ve known each other since we were kids, so tell me. What’s wrong?” She asked as she placed her hand on his knee.

He honestly didn’t know why he did it. Really, he didn’t.

Was it because he was sick and tired of hearing Marinette talking about him? About the supposed love of her life?

Was it because that’s all she was ever talking about the minute he stepped into her room, just like every other time for the past two years? How she would tell him all of her fantasies she had with golden boy Agreste?

So why? Why did he ever do it, even though he knew how it was going to end.

“Does it have to be Adrien?” Marinette tilted her head. “Does it have to be someone like Adrien, a rich model, to make you happy?”

“Tim, what are you getting-”

“What about,” he closed his laptop, “someone like me?” He asked, looking directly at her.”

“Why would I ever date someone like you?” Marinette asked him, a tiny laugh following.

It hurt.

“Why wouldn’t you?” Tim pried, something he knew he would regret saying.

“Why? Let’s see,” Marinette began, getting up to lean against the ladder that led to her bed. “First off, you’re my best friend.” Marinette counted. “I rather not make things awkward between us.

Then there’s the fact that you're a vigilante. I don’t want to become a possible hostage if i ever go to Gotham to visit you. I’m there to spend time being with you, not spending time being bait.

Yes, I may be Ladybug and know how to defend myself, but that doesn’t mean I will react the same if I ever get caught in a Gotham attack. There’s no miraculous magic to guarantee my safety, so who knows if i will be lucky enough to escape an attack unscathed.”

Tim watched as she fiddled with a loose hair strand. “And even if you weren’t a vigilante, I honestly don’t think our relationship would even work.” Marinette confessed. “It would've been one thing if we lived a single border away from each other but a whole ocean? It would never work.”

Tim watched as Marinette counted another finger off. “Then there’s the fact that you’re a bit too dedicated to your job.”

“My job?” Tim asked, feeling himself reaching his limit.

“A workaholic at Wayne Enterprises during the day and a case obsessed vigilante at night. When will we ever have the time to just relax, to be with each other? The answer is that we won’t, so I don’t-“

“Case obsessed?” Tim couldn’t believe it. “Marinette, I need to be case obsessed -as you call it- to help keep Gotham safe.”

“But to the point of depleting your health? I don’t think it’s worth-“

“Gotham isn’t Paris. We don’t have magic to restore everything after a massive fight, to repair any collateral damage done to the city and people of Gotham.” Tim defended himself. “Studying cases helps to create-“

“But you take it overboard, Tim.” Seriously, why is he getting so defensive? “I mean just look at you now! Bruce sent you here so that you could take a break and get-“

“Evil never rests Marinette.” Tim looked at her dead in her eyes. “I thought you would know that by now.”

“I do.” Marinette growled, crossing her arms.

“Do you? Do you really?” Marinette let out a heavy sigh.

“Tim, can we just drop this?”

“Drop this? You’re the one who brought it up and now that I’m trying to defend-“

“Defend something that’s harming you. You're harming yourself without even knowing!” Marinette felt like ripping her hair out.

“At least I’m obsessed over trying to keep Gotham safe, unhealthy but necessary.” Tim said. “Unlike you who's obsessed with trying to get the attention of someone who wouldn’t even bat an eye in your direction.”

Marinette gasped, knowing exactly who he was referring to and insulting.

“I’m not obsessed with Adrien.” Tim let out a dry laugh, Marinette watching him shake his head as he got up, slamming his laptop on the lounge chair.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“I’m not.”

“You don’t call this an obsession!” Tim motioned to the entire wall by her desk, covered inch to inch in photos of Adrien.

Some weren’t even photos from shoots he took for his father’s company, but photos Marinette had printed out after taking them at school events.

“It's inspiration.”

“Inspiration?” Tim ran his hand through his hair. “It could’ve passed for inspiration if you didn’t have his damn face in each damn photo on this wall! It would’ve been inspiration if his stupid smiling-“

“His smile is not stupid! It very pleasing to the eye, and warms-“

“Don’t you ever stop babbling about him?”

“I don’t babble about him. I-“

“You only ever talk about five things: Lila, school, deadlines, Hawkmoth and this idiot!” Tim listed off, slamming his hand over a picture of Adrien winking towards the camera. Marinette shrieked.

“How dare you! That photo is signed!”

“Are you listening to yourself?”

“I can ask you the same-“

“I’m not obsessed with Adrien! Can’t you understand-“

“How blind are you to believe-“

“I’m not blind!” Marinette defended herself.

“Then you’re in denial!” Tim opposed. “And don’t say you’re-“

“I’m not!” She yelled, wanting to stomp her feet.

“Then explain this!” Tim pulled down the old projector board, exposing a giant schedule filled to the brim with different events, post it notes and doodles. But despite it filled with trivial info about her friends, everything else was about a single person. “Explain why the hell you have Adrien’s information to a t.”

“You act like you don’t do that same!”

“Villains, Marinette! I make charts and webs to help me track down villains! Not to know what what in the ever fucking love my crush is doing every second of the day!”

Marinette remained silent before Tim saw something slip into her mind.

“I don’t just have Adrien’s schedule, but also Alix’s and my other friend’s-“

“Are you talking about these?” Tim asked, pulling out only six laughable notes about her friends. “These events?” He asked again, shaking the measly six things she had on her friends. “Marinette. This.” He gestured again to the immaculate replica of Adrien’s schedule in front of them. “This is called obsession... being a stalker.”

“I’m not a stalker and I’m not obsessed! I only have his schedule in case-“

“Not a stalker? Not obsessed? You know his schedule, by heart! You know where his room is located within his home, you knew the password to his phone -fuck you’ve taken his phone-, get jealous over other girls even being with him despite not being in a relationship with him, fantasize about a future with him-“

“Shut up!” Marinette screamed. “What the hell do you even know about me? About my feelings for Adrien? Tell me Tim!”

Tim remained quiet, watching as Marinette glared at him, tears pooled in her eyes. “You can’t, can you? You know why? Because you don’t know anything about me?” She let out a dry laugh. “Bet you don’t even know what it’s like to even be in-“

“I have. And I do know what it’s like to feel worried, concerned, fearful about the person you love. Because believe it or not, I have been in love before. But as you can see, that didn’t work out. And here I am, experiencing it all over again,” Tim watched as something flashed before her eyes. “But this time...this time, I feel like it was just a waste of time…”

Tim walked to his laptop and picked it up, opening the hatch to leave.

Marinette watched as he slowly descended until only his head peered over the entrance of her room. “If I knew opening up to a new love was going to be like this, I would’ve never given love a second chance.”

With that, Tim left, leaving Marinette alone in her room.

#maribat #timari #anju writes #timari january 2021

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ahsokadrabbles · 3 years

Text

𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥'𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐞 [the mandalorian x reader]

the mandalorian and the reader travel to the ghost town of mos pelgo in search of someone to lead the child to others of its kind. (part one of an ongoing series.)

this fic was born after listening to the song devil’s back bone by the civil wars perhaps a few times too many. if you haven’t heard it, i highly encourage you to check it out here because it’s a great song. i was inspired by the idea of loving a man who has committed many wrongs, but for the right cause, and then immediately thought of din. anyways, i’ve had this one on my mind for a while so i really hope you enjoy it. happy reading!

word count: 5k

warnings: angst, alcohol, your usual run of the mill rowdiness

The Mandalorian and you had a simple relationship. You were to care for and watch over his son when he couldn't, which happened to be quite often due to his demanding lifestyle. In return he housed you, fed you, and provided you with protection when necessary. Nothing more, nothing less, right? That was the way the rugged bounty hunter saw things, but you on the other hand felt differently. Something about his stone-cold demeanor drew you in. He was strong and brave, intimidating, and feared, and all of those characteristics stirred something deep within you.

But to him, you were only the Child's caretaker. Nothing more, nothing less.

You rolled over on your cot to face the wall, your eyes still blurred from sleep. Groggily you felt around the folds of your sheets until you grasped a small rock with one pointy end that you had collected from a planet you had long since left. You and the bounty hunter traveled so often that all the planets and systems had begun to blur together. You never paid much attention to where you were anyway. You could be on the most beautiful planet, covered with white sands and clear seas, yet you would still be more entranced by the mysterious Mandalorian.

You scratched another line into the wall and counted how many were there. You had been traveling with the Mandalorian for 124 days, give or take a cycle as you had only started keeping track a few weeks after you boarded the Razorcrest. It looked as if you were a prisoner counting the days they spent locked away, but really you were tracking how long it was taking for the Mandalorian to finally see you. Not just with his eyes, but deeper than that. To you, it seemed like your infatuation was painfully obvious, but maybe the warrior was oblivious, or just completely ignoring you. It was probably the latter.

You sat upright in bed as your vision cleared the rest of the way and caught a glimpse of the Mandalorian putting on his chest plate.

"Sorry," You muttered, immediately placing your hand over your eyes.

Seeing Mando without his armor might as well have been seeing him naked. And seeing him without his helmet would probably end in your untimely demise.

You liked to think he wouldn't kill you, but sometimes you really weren't sure.

"It's okay," His deep and muffled voice replied, watching as you sheepishly removed your hands from your eyes.

You could hear the child cooing over in Din's half of the room so you climbed out of bed to go fetch him. You hummed a soft and sweet good morning to the baby before sweeping him up into your arms and planting a kiss on his wrinkled forehead.

"Where are we headed?" You asked as you bounced the child in your arms, earning you a fit of soft giggles from him.

"Tatooine." Mando bluntly answered.

As usual, he wasn't much for words.

"And we'll arrive today?" You guessed, pointing the baby in the direction of its father who he was making grabby hands at.

"We should land in an hour or so. We're meeting a friend of mine at her hangar."

Your brain got stuck on the word 'her'. You didn't even think the Mandalorian had friends, especially not lady friends. You swallowed your jealousy and handed the baby to the man.

"Spend some time with him while I get dressed. I'll be up to make breakfast in a second." You told him, watching as he took the baby with a gentleness that did not match his hardened exterior.

When you finished getting dressed, you climbed up the ladder into the upper quarters. You were immediately blinded by the light of the bright suns of Tatooine as you exited the darkness of the lower bunks.

"That was quick." You muttered, squinting as your eyes adjusted to the light.

You strapped in for the landing, clutching the child close to your chest as the turbulence rattled the ship's interior. You and the Mandalorian both let out your usual sigh of relief when you thankfully made another safe landing.

"Alright, she's waiting," Din said, referring to his lady friend that you were painfully jealous of.

"Maybe the baby and I should just stay here, you know how Tatooine is." You said, looking into the Mandalorian's expressionless visor.

You didn't know if your heart could handle being around Mando and the mystery woman.

"Nothing will happen if I'm with you two." He replied lowly, motioning with his arm for you to follow.

You unwilling trailed behind the man, the small green child clung to your hip. The rear door of the ship opened with a great hiss, a pool of hot golden light following in its wake. The Child gurgled and shielded its large dark eyes with a small three-fingered hand, taken aback by the sudden rush of sunlight.

"I thought that hunk of junk looked familiar," A raspy female voice greeted, her body merely a black silhouette against the scorching desert suns.

"Hello, Peli." The Mandalorian replied.

Mando may have appeared stoic to most, but you'd been around him enough to been to notice the slight queues in his voice. When he found something funny, there was a certain waver to his gravelly tone, and it was present in this moment.

When your eyes finally adjusted to the light you were met with the sight of a short woman who was more hair than height. She had a head of wild, curly hair and was clad in a tattered jumpsuit. She wasn't at all what you were expecting, but the mischievous glint in her eyes was strangely comforting. You felt as if she were an old friend to you.

"Did you finally get hitched, Mando?" She asked, looking you up and down as if she were examining your worth.

Your face grew hotter than what it already was in the blistering Tatooine heat as the man beside you cleared his throat.

Suddenly, you felt uncomfortable in your tattered, olive-colored overalls. You sure didn't look like a worthy bride.

"She is the Child's caretaker." He answered, his gaze still locked on Peli.

Your chest panged at his words and you held onto the Child tighter, tucking his small green head beneath your chin.

"Well, that's your loss. She's one fine specimen." The woman with the unruly hair replied as she flashed you a lopsided grin.

"May I see him?" She beamed at the baby clutched in your arms and the blush that was rapidly spreading across your face went unnoticed to her.

You looked down at the Child and watched as he gazed at Peli with admiration, the two had seemingly met before.

"Of course," You hummed, descending the ramp so you could safely hand the Child over.

You watched as she hummed and fawned over the baby while you felt the Mandalorian's unnerving presence looming over your shoulder. His broad shadow that was cast across the dusty ground showed his arms folded over his armored chest.

"We stopped by hoping you could provide us some information-"

"You never just want to come to visit me, there always has to be something in it for you." Peli huffed.

You quietly analyzed the relationship between the two. Lucky for you they weren't old flames, but they were close with one another. Why didn't Mando and you joke like this? How much longer were you going to have to sit next to him in the co-pilot's seat in deafening silence? You decided that if you got a moment alone with Peli, you'd ask how the two of them got so close. Maybe she'd be able to help you.

"What do you know about Mos Pelgo?" The bounty hunter asked, earning a puzzled expression from the older woman.

"Destroyed in battle." She bluntly replied, bouncing the baby up and down in her arms.

"No, that's not right." The Mandalorian mumbled.

"Koresh said Mos Pelgo, right?" He turned toward you for support.

"If I recall correctly, yes." You said, now equally puzzled.

Now you worried that your run-in with the gangster Gor Koresh had been for nothing. What if the three of you almost died all for a dead end?

"R5," Peli called, summoning forth a rusted red and white droid.

"Pull up a map of Tatooine for me, will you?"

The droid hummed and whirred as it went to work at an achingly slow pace.

"Can you go any faster you useless pile of bolts?" She groaned.

Before the four of you appeared a flickering hologram of a map of Tatooine.

"Now, can you find me Mos Pelgo?"

The droid let out another series of beeps before getting to work again, slightly faster this time.

"I don't see it." Mando frustrated announced as you stared at the blank spot on the map.

"Mos Pelgo was turned to dust, I'm not sure if you'll find what you're looking for there," Peli explained before looking skeptically towards you and the Mandalorian.

"We still have to try." You said, looking down at the baby in Peli's arms.

"For him."

"What sort of trouble are you two looking for anyway?"

"A source told me I could find another Mandalorian there. Hopefully, they can lead me to others like the Child."

"And by a source he means gangster." You said under your breath, earning a hearty chuckle from the mechanic.

"At least he has someone with at least a lick of sense around now. I don't know what he thinks he's doing running and being in cahoots with gangsters. He has a responsibility now!" She waved the baby around in Mando's line of sight.

You smiled to yourself, happy to finally have some recognition for all the help you gave to The Mandalorian. If it weren't for you he probably wouldn't be able to keep his head on his shoulders.

"I have a land speeder you two can borrow, but if anything happens to it this time I swear, Mando I will have your-"

"I will bring it back in one piece." The man silenced, already walking towards the speeder.

You looked at the lone bike with dismay. It was going to be awkward to have to share one, especially for that long of a trip.

"I hate to ask for too much, Peli, but do you happen to have a second speeder?" You shyly requested with your hands clasped together in front of you.

"Nope, not since Mando here wrecked the last one."

"You should be fine, I don't think he bites unless you tick him off." She teased with a wink.

You let out and nervous laugh and took hold of the Child as she handed him over to you. You tenderly put him into his pouch before tying it to the back of the speeder.

The Mandalorian had already boarded the bike and started the engine, it purred and sputtered like a sickly loth cat. Despite the worrying amount of noise the speeder made, you sat down on the back end of the vehicle, making sure to keep your distance from the bounty hunter in front of you.

"You're going to want to get closer than that, sweetheart. Don't need anyone flying off now do we?" Peli joked.

You hesitantly inched forward, wrapping your arms around Mando's waist for extra support. His beskar armor was cool against your skin, a stark contrast to the desert suns that had been beating down on you.

"Are you alright?" He asked, peering over his shoulder at you.

You nodded and forced a smile in reply. When the Mandalorian finally looked away, you caught a glimpse of Peli's smug expression.

"If you two make it back by dinner, we're having bantha!" She shouted over the deafening hum of the speeder.

Your stomach was too knotted to even think of eating.

It was a long and uncomfortable ride to Mos Pelgo. Though you and the Mandalorian weren't having the greatest time, the Child seemed thrilled. He grinned into the wind as his long green ears fluttered behind him. At least someone was content.

While the child babbled beside you, you spent the trip hoping Mos Pelgo had what you were looking for. You wanted a win for Mando, he'd been trying so hard to find anyone who could help get the Child home, but he was only coming up with loose ends.

"Do you see that?" You shouted, pointing off into the distance at an outline of a town.

Din applied a heavier push to the gas pedal and sent you flying straight for the small village of Mos Pelgo. When he finally got closer he slowed down, noticing that the loud rumble of the engine was attracting unwanted attention. Every resident of the town was stood outside their small hut glaring and covered in soot and ash. That sight was enough to tell you that Mos Pelgo was a mining colony, but what would a Mandalorian want with a mining colony?

"Stop here," You instructed, tapping Din's shoulder as you neared an abandoned-looking cantina.

The speeder came to a steady halt and Din cut the engine, engulfing the three of you in silence.

"I guess this is a good place to start?" You shrugged as you slipped off the seat and dusted the sand off the front of your overalls.

"We'll find out." The Mandalorian said, a hint of doubt in his steely voice.

You retrieved the Child from the speeder and wore the sack he was stored in across your front. He babbled nonsense at you and then proceeded to point at his mouth, letting you know he was hungry.

"We'll see if they have anything for you here, okay?" You cooed, scratching the baby's wrinkled head.

The Mandalorian led the way into the cantina, up three creaking wooden steps, and through a set of swinging doors that hadn't had their hinges oiled in far too long. The interior of the bar looked just as dead as the rest of Mos Pelgo. Everything was covered in a thick layer of dust and sand and the furniture was tattered and worn. Not to mention that the floorboards moaned beneath you as if they would give out at any moment.

"Hello? Is anyone here?" You called out, keeping close to Mando.

A door in one of the far back and dark corners of the bar swung open and a large and burly creature sauntered out.

"Can I help you, folks?" He asked as he saddled up behind the bar.

"We have a few questions for you actually, but first, do you have any bone broth for the little one?" You questioned, giving the man a hopeful smile.

"I do, now what questions do you have for me?"

You looked to the Mandalorian while the bartender prepared the broth for the baby, causing the armored man to clear his throat.

"Do you know of any Mandalorians who live here? Anyone who looks like me?"

The man eyed Din as he slid you the broth for the Child. Both you and your partner held your breath and hoped for an even slightly helpful answer.

"You must be thinking of the Marshal." The bartender replied as you shifted through your sack looking for credits.

"You've got a little mouth to feed, it's on the house." He added with a dismissing wave of his hand.

Before you could thank him for his kindness, Din shot another question.

"Your marshal wears Mandalorian armor?"

You resisted the urge to smack Din on the arm. He never slowed down to just be thankful, he never really thought. This is normally where trouble began.

The creaking cantina doors that you had entered through earlier groaned open once again as a great beam of sunlight filled the room and illuminated the dust that floated through the hot, thick air.

"Well speak of the devil," The barman spoke before raising his hand to give a blunt salute.

You and Din both pivoted around to face the man who had sauntered into the bar, clad head to toe in battered Mandalorian armor. He sat down in a wooden chair, back slouched and knees spread like he owned the place. He radiated the energy of someone important and for a moment you thought that maybe the ghost town of Mos Pelgo wasn't a dead end after all. That was until the Marshal did something shocking. You watched out of the corner of your eye as Din's hand settled upon the blaster holstered to his thigh, but you used your free hand to push it away.

The Marshal had removed his helmet and it was sat on the table, tinted visor glinting in the sunlight.

"Take it off," The bounty hunter said bluntly, still grasping his weapon even after you attempted to push him away.

"Or I will."

With your eyes wide as saucers, you quickly sat the Child down out of harm's way and stood yourself between the two men. You wouldn't let Din be this reckless and kill off your only lead. The two of you had been searching far and wide for another Mandalorian for far too long. Yes, this man wasn't exactly a Mandalorian, but for now, he was all you had.

"Mando, don't." You ordered, looking into the darkness of his helmet and estimating where his eyes might lay.

You hated having to do this, to restrain him from protecting his culture. It was unfair that this Marshal could walk around as he did without facing the persecution Din faced and without devoting his life to Mandalorian culture.

As you stood between the two men who now had their weapons drawn you thought of all the things you'd seen the bounty hunter go through, all because of his faith. The endless names and taunting, the rowdy bar fights that ended in dented beskar and bloodied knuckles. You wanted him to be able to let it all out, but you couldn't sacrifice this.

"Please don't fight." You said shakily, looking to your left at the Marshal.

The man's eyes were narrowed and strands of silver hair hung over his forehead. He was brazen and handsome as he awaited the Mandalorian's next move. The Marshal bit his cheek and followed your orders, lowering his blaster to his side.

"Drop it," You said, pointing your eyes down to the dirty floor below you.

"Please."

The Marshal raised his hands in defeat as he crouched down to the ground and carefully sat down his weapon. You kept your eyes locked on him as he rose back up with a cocky, lopsided grin.

"You aren't excluded from this, Mando." You huffed, not even having to look over your shoulder to know that Din still had his weapon raised.

Even through his modulator, you heard his quiet grunt of annoyance as he discarded his blaster.

"We don't want any trouble, sir-" You began before the Marshal outstretched his hand to you.

"It's no problem at all, young lady." He said before taking your hand into a firm grip.

You meekly shook back and blushed furiously when he lifted your hand to his mouth and planted a kiss. Before you could get too stuck on wondering where the hell you were, the Marshal provided a formal introduction.

"I'm Cobb Vanth, the Marshal of this little town you've found yourselves at."

You gave him a nervous smile and gestured towards yourself.

"I'm Y/N and that's Mando." You said, remembering not giving away the bounty hunter's real name.

"And who's that little fella?" Vanth questioned, pointing towards the Child who was peering at him from his carrier.

"He doesn't have a name," Din answered, moving forward to stand beside you like an overprotective shadow.

"He's actually why we're here." You added before giving a kind wave to the baby to let him know you hadn't forgotten about him. He was getting to the age where he required lots of attention and would get quite fussy if you didn't play with him or hold him often.

"Well, I hate to interrupt you darlin', but I have to ask your friend here what all the fuss is with my armor?" The Marshal asked, his arms now inquisitively folded across his chest.

"The armor your wearing is Mandalorian. You're not supposed to wear it if you're not part of the creed." Mando explained.

You could tell he was trying his best to remain calm.

"How do you know I'm not part of the creed?" Vanth prodded, quirking a dark brow.

"Mandalorians never remove their helmets in front of anyone."

The cantina was covered in the blanket of a heavy and uncomfortable hush. You could tell that beneath the Marshal's tough exterior, he truly did feel guilty.

Before he could reply to Din, a faint rumble sounded off in the distance. You and the Mandalorian exchanged puzzled glances before the entire room began to shake. Bottles behind the bar began to fall off the shelf and shatter as you ran to fetch the Child who was cowering in the corner.

"What the hell is that?" You shouted, looking to the Marshal for an answer.

He motioned for you and Din to follow him outside and wearily you did so. The residents of Mos Pelgo were rushing to get inside and salvage whatever they could as a massive lump beneath the sand came rushing toward the village. You held the baby closer to your chest as the mass beneath the ground burst out and reared it's scaly head before it swallowed an unsuspecting bantha whole.

All fell quiet once the creature burrowed deeper into the ground and sped away, leaving destruction in its wake.

"Care to tell us what that was?" Mando said, not a hint of fear in his voice.

"Krayt dragon," Vanth replied nonchalantly, obviously this wasn't a once in a lifetime occurrence.

"And I tell you what, Mando; if you can help me get rid of that damn thing, I'll give you my armor."

The Marshal stood with one hand on his hip and the other outstretched, waiting for the Mandalorian's grasp.

"Do we have a deal?"

"Deal," Din said, firmly shaking the other man's hand.

It seemed now that asking Vanth about the Child had become an afterthought and you did not agree to fight a massive monster who could swallow farm animals whole.

The Marshal offered you and the Mandalorian a place to stay for the night, but first, the three of you would devise a plan on how to deal with the dragon.

You were back in the Cantina which now brimmed with customers. Though you were squared away in a booth in the back corner, you could still feel the wary stares of the locals burning into the nape of your neck. You just kept feeding the baby and minding your own business, hoping they'd all just leave you alone.

"Are you alright?" Din asked, noticing your anxious demeanor.

"I'm fine. I can just tell not everyone is as welcoming as the Marshal." You replied as you spooned more broth into the Child's mouth.

"I'm sure a few stories of how you pulled a blaster on their leader have already gotten around."

"I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking." He apologized, quietly watching you care for the baby.

"You rarely ever do." You teased, nudging his leg beneath the table.

"Sorry you two, duty called." Vanth huffed as he settled into the booth beside you.

You tensed up as your bare shoulder brushed against his own and his knee pushed into your thigh.

"Are we ready to talk business, or are we thinking drinks first? I could really use something to take the edge off."

"We don't really do that sort of thing." You explained, trying your best to kindly decline.

"I have a backroom Mando can use," The Marshal continued to offer.

Din declined and the Marshal knew better than to push him any further. Now you were the only one left to persuade.

"Come on, live a little Miss Y/N!"

You looked to Din for reassurance to which he outstretched his arms to take the baby.

"Alright, I guess," You said before following an enthusiastic Vanth over to the bar.

The Marshal signaled to the bartender for two drinks as the two of you saddled up onto your stools. You looked nervously down at the tabled below you, counting every scratch in the wood.

"I hate to pry, but what exactly is the relationship between you and the Mandalorian?" Vanth asked.

"I help take care of the Child and in return, he gives me a place to stay. He got me out of a pretty nasty situation." You said in reply, choosing to keep some parts of your story a secret.

"I guess you could say he saved me, but it's nothing more than a business relationship if that's what you're asking."

The Marshal chuckled at your answer as he slid you your drink.

"It sounds like you're quite fond of him if you ask me." He teased, a handsome smile plastered on his bearded face.

"No, it's not like that."

Instead of you sounding carefree, your voice was solemn and soft. It was a weak try at trying to convince the Marshal that you weren't in love with your partner, but it would have to do.

You sheepishly looked down at the short glass of electric blue liquid before you and hoped it wouldn't hit you like a sack of bricks.

"On the count of three-" He began before you stopped him.

"Wait!" You laughed, a nervous blush spreading across your face.

"We don't have all night, darlin'." Vanth hummed, grinning when you finally got past your nerves and picked up your glass.

On three you tipped back your head and swallowed the bitter liquid. You held back a gag and wrinkled your nose as Vanth stared back at you unfazed.

"Good girl," He praised, giving an unexpected but not unwanted squeeze to your thigh.

Everyone was really staring at you now. You weren't just a stranger who wandered into town anymore, you were the girl on the Marshal's hip.

One shot soon turned into one too many and Vanth brought you back to the booth with you clinging onto his arm like a giggly mess.

"Alright, let's get to work, shall we?" Vanth said once he got you settled into the booth.

"Hi, Din." You giggled, smiling at him while the Marshal spread his plan across the table.

"How much did you drink, Y/N?" The bounty hunter asked, his voice oozing a disapproving tone.

"I have no idea," You slurred, jerking your head in the direction of the silver-haired man beside you.

"However much he gave me."

The heavily armored man let out a sigh, but the baby in his arms had the entire opposite reaction to your state. The Child found how drunk you were to be amusing.

"Sorry, I didn't expect her to react like this." Vanth sincerely replied as he fixed your disheveled hair.

"Are you gonna be okay, sweetheart?" He asked, brushing your disheveled hair away from your face.

You simply nodded in reply, not a care in the world. You hadn't felt this stress-free in a while and you were going to enjoy it while it lasted.

The crowd inside the cantina began to dwindle as it grew later in the night. The clientele within it would have to wake up with the sun, so staying out all night was not something the people of Mos Pelgo did often.

The Child had begun to drift off in your arms as you looked down at him contently despite your drunken stupor. Your blurred vision made him look more like a painting on a canvas rather than a real-life child.

"Well, I think we're about done here." Vanth said, looking down at the scroll of paper on the table with an expression of satisfaction.

"I should get these two to bed. We'll meet back up tomorrow." Din replied before inching his way out of the booth.

"Come on, Y/N."

The Marshal assisted you out of the booth in his usual gentlemanly manner.

"Thank you for the drinks," You slurred, pouting as the Mandalorian removed the baby from your grasp.

"I-I'll see you tomorrow?"

Din now had a firm but gentle grasp on your wrist as he tugged you towards the exit.

"Yes ma'am, I'll have a hangover cure waiting," Cobb replied with a lopsided grin.

"Hangover?" You worriedly muttered as the Mandalorian tugged you out the swinging cantina doors.

You followed an arm's length behind Din as he led you back to your shelter for the night. If you were sober you would have easily kept up, but it felt as if you had weights strapped to your boots and the sands of Tatooine weren't aiding you in any way.

"Keep up, it's dark out. I don't want to be out here if that dragon comes back." The Mandalorian muttered, his voice a humming metallic whir in the quiet desert air.

When you finally made it to the small hut, you staggered through the door and fell heavily down onto your cot. You laid in the dark and stared up at the ceiling as Din put the Child to bed and lit a few candles to light up the darkness of the room.

"You weren't like yourself tonight." He said quietly, his broad back turned to you as he fussed with lighting another candle.

"What?" You grunted, holding yourself upright in bed by your elbows.

"The way you acted today was unlike you. Honestly, it was irresponsible."

The gears in your brain turned as you strung together every word of his sentence into something coherent to your drunken mind.

"What do you mean unlike me?" You scoffed, now sitting upright with your legs folded beneath you.

"You're acting like you know me."

"Of course I know you, Y/N. I've been carting you across the galaxy for months now." The Mandalorian replied, turning to face you now that he had finished his battle with the lamp.

"Exactly! We've been stuck in your hunk of junk traveling through space for so long and you haven't even tried to get to know me." You shot back, your voice raising itself an octave.

The combination of the alcohol and your now unbottled emotions made you feel hot and sickly. It was the kind of discomfort where out of the blue your clothes felt like they were going to swallow you whole or your boots felt like they were laced too tight. You were a ticking time bomb and everything was bound to set you off.

"So what? You think the Marshal knows you better?"

"That's what this is about? You're jealous?" You snapped, your jaw practically hanging to the floor out of shock.

The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife as the bounty hunter hovered above your cot. You could feel his glare, even if it was obscured by his helmet. The liquid courage that was coursing through you urged you to challenge him further, but deep down you knew that you might as well be playing with fire.

"Go to bed. It's late and I don't want you waking the Child." He said flatly before extinguishing the lamps he had put on just minutes earlier.

You dramatically fell back onto the bed, the force of your body causing the springs in the mattress to creak beneath you. Scowling up at the ceiling, you counted the wood panels above your head and listened to the quiet thud of the Mandalorian stripping off his boots before crawling into bed.

If there hadn't already been a rift between you two before, there was now.

You awoke to bright sunlight leaking in through the narrow windows of the hut. In the pool of honeyed sunlight, the Child babbled from within his cradle. To your left, Mando laid in bed, the slow rise and fall of his chest suggesting that he was still asleep. You pondered over how he managed to sleep with all his armor on before remembering the argument the two of you had gotten into the night before. The events leading up to it were foggy, but sadly that had managed to stick with you. This is why you never drank, you weren't fond of having to piece your life back together the next morning. You forced yourself out of bed, trying to ignore the pounding in your head, and walked over to where the baby was.

"Good morning, little one." You hummed.

The Child beamed back up at you with wide, dark eyes and your heart fluttered at his admiring gaze. He was only a baby of course, but his kindness was enough to mend your wounds from the night before.

Behind you, the Mandalorian stirred in his bed.

"Hello," You heard him mutter sleepily.

"Did the Child wake you?"

"No, it was that damn sun." You replied, squinting into the light.

You were much more used to the darkness of your quarters in the Razorcrest. Some curtains in the hut would've been favorable. It probably would've made the space a little more welcoming too. You hadn't noticed it in the pitch dark of the night before, but the room itself was quite sad. You were stood upon dirt floors and surrounded by blank, beige walls.

"Listen, I'm sorry about-"

You didn't know if now was the right time to apologize, but maybe there would never be a 'right time'.

"Don't apologize. I shouldn't have acted the way I did. You were drunk and all I did was provoke you. I should be the sorry one." Mando cut you off, now stood behind you with a gloved hand awkwardly placed on your shoulder as the two of you hovered over the Child.

"I guess we should go find the Marshal. He's probably waiting for us." You said, looking over your shoulder at the masked man behind you.

You had placed a band-aid on the situation, now it was time to carry on. More important things hung in the balance than you having butterflies for the faceless bounty hunter you shadowed behind.

You had a dragon to kill.

let me know what you think of this first part! also let me know if you would like to be tagged in the second part so you are alerted when it comes out. thank you so much for reading! <3

#the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin x reader #din djarin fanfiction #the mandalorian #pedro pascal #star wars

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papipopsicle · 4 years

Text

HANDMADE HEAVEN PART ONE

Pairing: Steve Harrington X Hargrove!Reader

Summary: In which the new Queen of Hawkins High finds herself falling for the fallen king.

Song: Easier by 5 Seconds of Summer

Warnings: swearing, asshole parental figures

Words: 1.7K

MASTERLIST

feedback is always appreciated

The house itself was fine, not pretty and polished like the one she grew up in, but at the very least she was grateful not to be sleeping in another motel bed filled with broken springs and anonymous stains. Susan greeted her like a good little home maker, tightly waved hair bouncing against her shoulders as she walked down the steps of the porch.

"How was it, sweetie?" The ginger woman waited with pursed lips while her step daughter stood from the vehicle. She really hated that car, it stood out like a sore thumb next to her husband's silver SUV, especially when her brothers parked alongside the two.

"Not the worst." Y/N shrugged. She missed the silent solace already, "Has Max decided which room she wants?"

Susan nodded, leading the blonde into their new home, "She's at the back opposite your father and I. William hasn't arrived yet so you have the choice of the one next to hers or ours."

Without hesitation she chose the one next to Max's. Her father helped unload her heavier furniture from the U-Haul currently fixed to the back of her red muscle car. The room was in the shape on an 'L', mirroring her step sister's. Her small double bed only just managed to fit in the crook, creating a cosy space to drift away in.

Hours of rearranging the room passed before a navy blue Camaro could be heard pulling up onto the curb and a muggy sunset made itself present in her bedroom window. Emptying out her socks into the small drawer of her dresser, Y/N dropped the empty black bin liner behind her and rushed to greet her brother.

"Billy!" She squealed, attacking him with a hug. The two would roughhouse and swear at each other like drunken sailors, but their love for each other would always be the first thing anyone noticed about the twins. He picked her up with ease and spun her around, quickly dropping her to the floor again.

Y/N's twin would sometimes forget the rude masculine persona he put on and actually behaved like himself, but it never lasted long with their father close by.

"See that hunk of crap didn't kill you on the way here then?" Billy joked as they both carried a bed frame into his new room. His distaste for the nineteen-sixty-eight Mustang Cobra was evident whenever it came up in conversation, only due to it being left to her rather than him in their mother's will.

"Not just yet." His sister hummed and the two let out a huff as they dropped the mattress onto the wooden frame. They talked about the bullshit of finishing their senior year at a completely different school and what that we're going to dress up as for Halloween. It was their favourite holiday and this year she planned on being Tom Cruise from Risky Business. Nobody would understand it but it was better than Billy's 'slutty teen boy' costume he wore most days anyway.

"Y/N/N honey, could you come into the lounge!" Susan's sugary tone rang through the house. The twins shared a look that always subconsciously found their faces when she attempted to play doting step mother.

Fucking doormat of a woman.

"Coming." The blonde shut her brothers door on the way out and walking down the hallway into the small living area. By now any remnants of the sun had long hidden away from Hawkins and only warm ceiling lights lit up her face.

Susan appeared from the kitchen door with a tray full of oatmeal cookies, grin etched into her features like puppet strings pulling at her cheeks, "Try one, would you?" She gleamed, pushing the metal tray out for emphasis, "I'd ask your father but he'd just say they were nice, never wants to upset me. He's too good."

Not wanting to answer, Y/N took a small crumbly cookie and bit into it, eyes bugging out at the statement only able to nod in response.

The step mother watched in anticipation, hair bouncing at her shoulders as usual, "So, gorgeous? Be honest with me, how are they?"

"Really good," She didn't like the woman, but couldn't deny her ability to copy a recipe, "I think these may even top the peanut butter ones."

Susan's sterile smile managed to stretch further and Y/N was scared her lips may crack and bleed from the force, "Perfect! We're handing them out to our new neighbours tomorrow. Which reminds me, I need you to get some new trainers for Maxine tomorrow, nothing expensive though, they're just for gym class. She's a four now.

The blonde resisted the urge to roll her eyes, and instead nodded while an idea popped into her head, "I drove past a giant superstore on my way here, I'm sure they're still open I can just go now."

"Are you sure, honey?" Susan sounded concerned, but Neil didn't share the same feelings, "Curfew is eleven until you start school on Monday, same rules apply here."

"I know, Dad." She nodded curtly and turned on her heel, not wasting a moment grabbing her brothers old khaki bomber jacket and her car keys. The front door shut just as quickly as it opened, leaving the small U Haul sitting on the driveway next to Billy's Camaro.

It had been her brother's favourite jacket since he was sixteen, but he'd gained so much muscle his arms couldn't slip into it anymore. Although Y/N was tall for the average girl, the material still managed to shroud her frame.

Y/N felt amazed after managing to get to the store fairly easily, she picked up some plain black pumps and paid for them with cash, pocketing the receipt to make sure Neil would reimburse her. That took less than fifteen minutes. There were still over two hours until she needed to be back at the house and she needed to make the most of any freedom from her father.

She was her mother's daughter and the opposite of Susan Mayfield-Hargrove; if someone showed themselves as a thorn and not the rose they seemed to be, they were a thorn. She could accept it and move on, which is difficult when they own the house she calls home. Her step mother was a fixer, finding wilted petals and taping them up against the thorn to appear more sightly. If Neil was the thorn, Y/N the rose, then Susan was a daisy in a field where she didn’t belong.

The younger Hargrove twin decided to explore her new home, driving around cul-de-sacs and roads which mirrored one another. After a while of aimless driving, Y/N parked up at the side of a quiet road, seeming to back onto a rich neighbourhood. She locked the muscle car, Ellie, and began walking on the edge of the road.

"Stay put, El." She whispered to herself, echoing her mother's voice. Meredith Hargrove always swore her car changed parking spaces whenever they went somewhere together.

Y/N couldn't imagine having so much space, no family was big enough to make use of it all. Her feet brought her into the small forest area, passing a few more eccentric gardens before finding one which intrigued her. The lights were all off, moonlight bouncing off the unmoving water in the centre of the garden.

Swimming had always been something the Hargrove girl not only loved but turned to in uncertainty. Billy would surf alongside her a long time ago, but he hadn't for years now. Her eyes danced around each room, unable to see any kind of life within the mansion. Against Y/N’s better judgement, she left the tall trees and let her toes edge onto someone's private property.

It seems a shame not to.

Fallen leaves stopped crunching under her brown boots as they found concrete slabs. The family must have employed a cleaner and gardener as nothing seemed out of place or dirty. The water was clear and not a single leaf or bug lay on its surface. Crouching down, her fingers drifted along the water, creating a small ripple, confirming her suspicions of how cold it would be.

She didn't care, stripping down into her underwear in the cool autumnal winds, anyone would've thought she was a crazy person. Y/N ignored the small ladder next to her and gracefully dived into the pool, swimming down to the bottom until she needed to come back up for air. The blonde lay on her back, staring up at the stars wondering what her friends were doing on the other side of America. Probably at Sadie's getting high.

Y/N wasn't sure how much time had passed, her fingertips were now wrinkled but it didn't bother her. She was in her element, so much so she didn't register when the kitchen light turned on and alerted the homeowner of someone in their pool.

Steve's body was overcome with terror as he did a double, triple take out of the kitchen window at the figure in his garden. He only wanted some leftover lasagne. Grabbing his nail punctured bat, the home alone teenager unlocked the back door, and against his own better judgement, creeped towards the intruder.

As he came closer, he was thankful to find a girl than a demogorgan, a girl he certainly didn't recognise. Her blonde hair lay on top of the water like a halo as she floated in her own world.

"Hello?" He questioned, bat still firmly in hand, "Why the fuck are you naked in my pool?"

Y/N left her mini trance, flailing in the water as her eyes found a teenage boy wielding an odd weapon, only a scream leaving her lips in response.

part two?

want to be tagged? just send in an ask!

#fanfic #fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #billy hargrove #hargrove x Harrington #Steve Harrington #Steve x reader #Steve imagine #Steve Harrington imagine #fluff #imagine #stranger things fluff #stranger things fanfic #stranger things imagine

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twiceblackvelvet · 4 years

Text

Soulmates?

requested!

Early rises and strolls to work for the opening shift are far more pleasant than imaginable. The sun rising slowly over the horizon whilst the pathways are clear of other people and hardly any cars noisily taking up road space. It’s calming, beautiful, in fact, to see the change in hues in the sky from a deep orange to a lighter yellow once it’s high enough above everything else. A camera roll full of pictures taken with the beams blazing down could never possibly do it justice, but it does help take off some of the chills during the winter months just looking at them.

It’s quite an easy job, truth be told, the only complication that ever presents itself is through difficult customers and they are few and far between thankfully. Doing the rounds to turn on all of the appliances and the fridge lights is a welcomed routine compared to the never-ending cleaning that comes with a closing shift. It should be a world record how long it takes to hoover the floors, mop them, and then try not to mess up all of that hard work by creating a shoe path through the wet flooring.

For the last six months, Mina has been working at the convenience store, and taking on every single shift her schedule will allow whilst still trying to continue her studies. Serving customers isn’t the be-all and end-all but she is grateful to have been offered the position with no experience in hospitality whatsoever. The owners had recently had to let go of one of their original employees after he was caught taking money from the register thus she was hired before even sitting the interview out of desperation to replace him.

Whilst there are a few customers who are tough to deal with, there are also the locals who are always full of small snippets about their lives, or, will simply offer a courteous smile if their own day is not going as planned. Her favorite, however, is watching all the young and in love couples enter the store together, there’s something about watching their small yet romantic gestures toward one another, and whilst the green-eyed monster known as jealousy would rear its head for anyone else, Mina merely longs to feel what they are one day with her true love.

A soulmate is a difficult thing to explain to anyone which is why it is taught and told from such a young age. The idea that there is one single individual wandering this Earth who is meant to be just as in love with you as you are them, and no one else seems unreasonable or forceful at best. Every relationship in life is significant and can work if each of you put in the work to make sure that it lasts. Just look at how often people will get attached to celebrity relationships, only for them to break up a few years down the line and people are convinced love isn’t real. In fact, there are many people during her life who have told her it was a crazy idea to hold out for ‘the one’.

However, Mina has always been a hopeless romantic and never been able to grasp the concept of dating multiple people when there is a very clear sign on her right hand linking her to the one she’s meant to be with. The one who will offer her a tingling feeling in the pit of her stomach whenever they exchange so much as a glance. The one who she’ll meet for the first time and something inside of her will click, telling her that they are the one for her. The one who will offer her endless reassurance whenever things in life get difficult. She’s always wanted it all, and more. But, they’ve yet to enter her life and whisk her off her feet.

Her mother would often share tales about meeting her father when they were younger, both of them too scared to reveal their markings, both of which being on their legs in the shape of a tiny rocket, to confirm what they had believed to be true, that they are soulmates. But, one day her father invited her mother to a break from an intense study session by going into his pool. They had both completely forgotten about having not shown their markings but as it turned out, they were the exact same. It was always Mina’s favorite bedtime story to hear about how her parents fell in love with each other, their own firm belief in soulmates only furthering her desire to find her own.

There were plenty of people during her early years that Mina thought were going to be the one, and rather than following entirely in her parents’ footsteps, she’d find any excuse to look at people’s right hand, such as holding their hand as she grabbed a skipping rope from them, or even going as far as gifting the girl next door an orange every single day on the bus to school until one day she took it with her right one. All of which failed miserably but she never gave up hope that one day it would simply happen without her having to think too much about it.

A small four-leaf clover resting directly in the palm of her right hand. It’s beautiful, and Mina often finds herself tracing it back and forth whenever she’s bored. Her father had explained to her that it must mean her life with her soulmate will be full of luck, but finding them alone will require a lot of luck, Mina isn’t so sure she’ll be gifted any more beyond that.

Today is no different from every other morning shift, no one bothers to enter for at least the first hour which means restocks and ordering anything that appears to be running low. The higher shelves she has to grab the old wooden ladders from the storeroom in the back, which, she’s convinced are going to one day give way and break causing her to crash through the display behind her. However, the manager, Mr. Kim, no matter how many times she asks him to get some new ladders simply states that he’s going to soon. When soon is exactly, Mina has no idea but she doubts it will be soon.

“Is anyone working?” A high-pitched voice calls out close to the counter. From her spot on the bottom rung of the ladders, Mina can only just say make out some brown hair.

The bell for the door to signal a customer had entered has clearly not done its job as Mina quickly rushes around to see who it is that’s waiting for her. Fortunately, it isn’t one of the angry customers who no doubt would have put in a complaint about her for not being at the counter, but instead, it’s Sana who works in the coffee shop just up the street and often calls in for a morning visit when they’re both on earlies. Mina thinks Sana has a sixth sense about this because they’ve never formally exchanged schedules with one another nor do they know each other beyond each other’s respective workplaces.

Sana’s own soul mark is directly under her left eye, a small golden star with sparks flying off of it. Mina adores it and finds that it makes Sana’s already beautiful eyes even more charming to look at.

“Ah, there you are Mina. Here, I brought you your usual. If the morning is kicking my ass, I know it is for you too.” Sana says as she hands over Mina’s usual order of an americano. Her eyes look tired and Mina can tell she isn’t fully present as of yet. “What were you doing? Do you know the bell is broken?”

“Restocks,” She quickly takes a sip of the piping hot drink, Sana subconsciously doing the same but regretting it when it burns her tongue a little. “Thank you for this. It was warm out on my walk-in but those clouds look threatening.” The pair of them look out the window to see the sky now lacking the sun-flamed sky that Mina adores and replaced by dark, overcast clouds. “No, I didn’t know the bell was broken until now, it seems everything is falling apart in here.”

“Did you get your new ladders yet?”

“Nope.” Mina pauses to look back toward where they’re just standing in the middle of an aisle and gives herself a mental reminder to move them once Sana leaves. “I’m thinking about just fetching my own in from home, we’re never going to get them and now, the bell probably won’t be fixed for the foreseeable.”

Sana’s eyes follow Mina’s toward the aisles and then drift up toward the bell above the door. She places her cup down onto the counter and taps Mina’s hand to get her attention back on herself.

“Don’t bring your own. I might know someone who can bring you some and fix the doorbell, you’ll still be here at 1 PM, right?”

“Yeah, I finish at 3, but you know he’ll never agree to pay for any repairs Sana, and especially not ones he hasn’t personally authorized”

“Don’t worry about it Mina, she owes me a favor anyway. Just take it as yet another act of kindness from your favorite and prettiest barista.” Sana chortles, fluttering her eyelashes.

“Oh, Jeongyeon is going to get some new ladders for me? I didn’t realize that’s what you meant.” Mina jokes knowing just how to make Sana a little jealous.

“Very funny, you know I meant myself, not her… Though now you’ve said it, you’re right, it could have meant her.” There’s a quick flash of Sana’s eyes unfocusing and drifting off likely to thoughts of her co-worker who she’s been dating for around a year. They aren’t soulmates but Jeongyeon isn’t a believer and Sana thinks she has too much love to give for one person. However, Mina has often caught Jeongyeon tenderly stroking Sana’s soul mark whenever they believe no one is around.

“Who is it?” Mina queries upon realizing Sana never said who it was that would be her savior.

“Hm? Oh… right. Don’t worry about it, just a friend of mine who can repair it for you.” Sana quickly looks up toward the clock on the back wall and picks her cup up from the counter before shifting toward the door, bell once again not working when she opens it. “Okay, I gotta go but 1 PM, be here not hiding in an aisle, or next time I might just snitch to Mr. Kim. Bye!” She shouts heading out before Mna can say goodbye in return.

It’s a fairly easy day, the weather does indeed end up turning sour as a downpour quickly starts not long after Sana had left and doesn’t ease up even for a second. There are only a handful of customers who enter and the majority of them are simply trying to escape the rain, which Mina is supposed to ask whether they’re going to purchase anything or not but she doesn’t have the heart to force them out into the cold, thus there was at one point just a collective of people stood by the door hoping for a dry spell that never arrives. They do all fortunately shuffle off one by one, all of which running to their cars or the next building for shelter.

By the time 1 PM rolls around, Mina had completely forgotten about her conversation with Sana. The ongoing entertainment of watching people force their jackets up over their heads whilst trying not to walk into streetlights had provided enough of a distraction for her. So, when someone with their coat up over their head holding a pair of ladders enters the shop, Mina simply believes they’re a customer.

The coat comes down to rest around her shoulders and reveals a face that is small yet striking. Eyes dark and wide, nose bright red from the cold, and the rest of her skin an olive color. She’s tall, quite tall in fact as she stands above the very ladders she’s holding around her left arm. A toolkit rests in her right hand, it’s small but looks heavy, however, if it is, the girl doesn’t let on as she carries it easily. Her frame hidden by the huge coat slumped around her but Mina finds her breathtaking and can’t quite remove her eyes from her face.

“Um… hello?” The girl waves a hand in front of Mina’s face dragging her out of the hypnosis she’s sure this girl had just put her under. “Are you Mina?” Yet again, Mina drifts off elsewhere upon hearing her name exit this girl’s mouth so softly.

“Y-Yes... I am… Mina. Yes. Sorry. I’m Mina.” She stutters, quickly trying to make even a slight bit of sense.

“Yeah, I got it the first time. Sana told me you need some ladders and your doorbell is broke?” The girl poses as a question but quickly gets to work looking at the doorbell which isn’t far away from her head but Mina would struggle to get anywhere close to reaching it. “Those are yours, by the way.” She points toward the ladders. They’re brand new, metal. Far sturdier than the wooden ones.

“Thank you, um…” Mina hesitates, realizing she hadn’t asked for the girl’s name as of yet, nor did Sana tell her who she was.

“Tzuyu.” She states flatly, never bothering to look back toward Mina whose eyes are piercing through the back of Tzuyu’s head never moving.

It doesn’t take her long to fix the doorbell. The batteries inside had managed to corrode and damaged some of the inner-wirings but luckily, Tzuyu had some spare on hand in her toolbox and got it back to signaling the door opening and closing in no time. Mina has no idea what Tzuyu has just technically done as she’s never been the most gifted when it comes to repairs, however, watching her weave the wiring together and connect all of the pieces back together certainly looked impressive.

There’s an awkward silence for a second as Tzuyu steps away from the door to finally look at Mina once again, neither of them knowing how to finish off this unpaid transaction of services.

“Um… Thank you,” Mina starts, but is unsure how to continue, just knows that she wants to continue talking. “So, Sana said you’re doing this as a favor to her?” Mina tries to ask, Tzuyu, however, moves to retrieve her toolkit from the ground.

“Yes. She’s a good friend.” Tzuyu says coldly, turning toward the door to leave but then swiftly back to the counter. “It was… It was nice to meet you, Mina.” Her voice more upbeat this time, yet forced as she outstretches her right hand in front of Mina.

Without hesitating, Mina grasps her hand in her own in a handshake. However, her skin immediately feels an electric shock the second their palms connect with one another, and Mina is stunned into just standing there frozen. Tzuyu is the first to pull her hand away which startles Mina back to reality realizing she wasn’t alone in feeling it. But, before she’s given the opportunity to talk to the girl in front of her the small four-leaf clover resting in the center of Tzuyu’s palm quietens any words that were close to escaping leaving them stuck in her throat.

Tzuyu catches sight of Mina’s same soul mark and immediately rushes out of the door and away from her without a word.

A big part of Mina is telling her not to be stupid, telling her not to risk her job by chasing after her and potentially being seen as a weird stalker. However, the other side that desperately wants to figure out if this moment is the one she’s been searching for, the one she’s been seeking since the very first time she was even told about soulmates. With the consequences for her actions at the very back of her head, she dashes out of the door following Tzuyu and runs to catch up with her, stopping outside of the coffee shop where Sana works as she grabs onto Tzuyu’s arm to stop her, the same shock feeling coursing across her skin as she does so.

“You have it too and you feel it. Tell me… that you feel that.” Mina huffs out, breath struggling to catch up to her.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tzuyu blurts out hurriedly upon noticing some eyes starting to watch on, her own eyes refusing to look at Mina. “Let me go.”

“No, I know you feel it. I saw you pull away just before… and you have the same mark like me. You know what this means, right?”

The silence between them returns as both Sana and Jeongyeon exit the coffee shop together to watch the interaction between the two girls unfold, a few people stop in the middle of the street to eavesdrop in, one of them even pulling out their phone to record it. Jeongyeon moves to ask them to put their phone away and they reluctantly comply.

“Is everything okay, Mina?” Sana asks.

“Yes, Sana, everything is fine.” Tzuyu answers for her. “Go back inside.”

The two girls shuffle back into the coffee shop, however, they remain by the door just in case whatever is happening between Mina and Tzuyu goes further downhill than it clearly already is even if neither of them will say why.

“Please, just say something… I know you have it too.”

“Look, Mina… I don’t know what kind of fantasy world you’ve created for yourself inside your head that you so clearly live in… but just because you have the same tiny little mark as someone doesn’t mean anything. Yes, everyday people rely on such a silly little thing to determine their entire lives, and good for them if that’s what they want. But it isn’t for me. You’re not for me.” Tzuyu’s voice cold and without any emotion whatsoever, and yet Mina can feel every single emotion inside herself all at once fighting for dominance over which one will retort back to her.

“But…” Mina barely whispers, unable to form a full sentence.

“But nothing, we just met.. You can’t really believe that we’re now supposed to spend the rest of our lives together because of that one single moment.” Tzuyu pauses, waiting to see if Mina will answer before continuing when she doesn’t. “Plus… I already… I already have a girlfriend.”

For the first time in her life, doubt about who she is supposed to spend her life with has managed to creep up and break down all of the previous standards for love Mina had put. Her hand uncurls itself from around Tzuyu’s arm and she sinks down to the floor because she’s right. All this time, Mina thought that having a soulmate or one set person who you’re supposed to always be with was how life is supposed to be, giving it far too much control and power over her to the point where she has likely pushed away plenty of others who would have no doubt made her happy, made her fall in love, and made her look forward to her future.

Instead, she’s given all of the power and control to someone she hadn’t even met yet. Now that she has, she realizes her mistake because Tzuyu could never be the one for her, even if the mark is there. They are not compatible whatsoever, not at this moment. Perhaps, during different times in their lives, they could be perfect for one another, and perhaps they could live out all of the things Mina has dreamed about. But Tzuyu is taken, and Mina is too much of a fantasist.

Mina can feel Sana and Jeongyeon slowly raise her up off the ground, however, her entire focus is on Tzuyu’s retreating figure walking away from her down the street. She can hear them talking to her and asking what has happened but her throat is unable to produce sound. Everything feels so cold and as if she’s surrounded by emptiness.

Perhaps, there is no such thing as soulmates after all. Perhaps, there never will be.

#twice imagines #twice scenarios #mina imagines #tzuyu imagines #mitzu #mina x tzuyu #kpop imagines #girl group imagines #kpop scenarios #girl group scenarios #twice angst #twice fic #mina #tzuyu #myoui mina #chou tzuyu

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starshine583 · 4 years

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Le Paon Part 14

(Hey guys! So I’m going on a long trip tomorrow that might leak into Sunday so I’m posting this chapter two days early. Enjoy!)

Part 1 / Part 13 / Part 15

Le Paon spread his arms out, inviting the full force of the wind with a smile as he soared over the Paris streets. The evening was perfect- a cloudless sky, a warm breeze, and a bubbly feeling in his chest that threatened to burst at any moment.

He never did end up talking to Marinette about their almost kiss, but the time he spent with her at home coming was just as great. They danced, they talked, and best of all, they were undisturbed. Not a single soul interrupted their time together, not even an akuma.

And now, Felix could only shout with joy as he ran to meet her as Le Paon. How he managed to escape Father’s new security was anyone’s guess, but he was out and that was all that mattered.

Of course, after such a wonderful night, Le Paon needed to run off some of his excitement before visiting Marinette again. She might get suspicious if he suddenly appeared on her doorstep with a shining grin despite how their last rendezvous together ended.

Le Paon stopped on a small rooftop, watching a few people on the streets below. Sirens blared in the distance, but he didn’t pay it any attention until the flash of blue, white, and red caught the corner of his eye. There seemed to be a good few police cars gathering in one of the streets a few blocks away, which was odd. Le Paon didn’t hear any gunshots or alarms beforehand, so why would Police be called to that area?

Curious, he took off across the rooftops again. It only took a minute for him to be right on top of them.

The sirens were still on when he got to the street with the police, so he could barely hear what anyone was saying, but they seemed to be talking about something rather important.

Le Paon balanced himself on a chimney just above the cars and knelt down, hoping to get a better look. One police officer was talking to another officer that was slightly separated from the crowd. (perhaps that was the main officer?)

“What do we do if we find him?” The first officer asked, a tentative expression on his face.

“Take him into custody by any means necessary.” The main officer replied firmly. “That old lady’s sights may be nearly gone, but if she said he was here, we can’t risk ignoring it.”

“He”? Who’s he? Who were they looking for?

A few of the other officers glanced around the street, as if they were worried something might jump out to get them. Le Paon looked around too, but there was nothing. It was only them for the time being. Nevertheless, he’d like to know what had them so worried.

“Le Paon is dangerous. He hides in the shadows and attacks when you least expect it. Stay together and watch each other’s backs.” The main officer continued.

Le Paon’s eyes blew wide at the statement. Him? Attacking random citizens? That was ridiculous! He’d never hurt anyone if he could help it, and anytime he did hurt someone, it was during the akuma attacks and completely accidental. Did Paris really think that he prowled around as a bloodthirsty monster for no reason? (not that he was a bloodthirsty monster either. That’s just what the news media liked to paint him as)

Before Felix could fully register the fact that he was the one they were looking for and not some petty criminal, the main officer pointed upwards. “Watch the rooftops too. He’s been spotted up there the most.”

Le Paon’s blood ran cold as every single one of the officers’ eyes turned upwards, with quite a few landing on him directly.

Guns were out and pointed at him in seconds, and Le Paon sprang to his feet from sheer panic. Unfortunately, that was enough for the police to start shooting.

Bullets started flying past him, and Le Paon stumbled back. his foot slipped off the back of the chimney, causing him to flail his arms a bit for balance. This unfortunately allowed one of the bullets to graze his waist, pushing him back onto the rooftop below anyway. Le Paon hissed in pain, instinctively grabbing his side as his back hit the rooftop. The wound burned his skin with a sharpness that had him gritting his teeth.

Bullets were still flying around him, but now they were hitting the chimney in front of him. The chimney wouldn’t last, though, and the police were bound to climb the building soon. He needed to escape, but how could he when his own blood was pooling around him and his vision was blurring from the pain?

Le Paon, through short breaths and groans, somehow managed to start pushing himself back. His strength was surprisingly intact, but he wasn’t sure if that was the adrenaline or the miraculous or both.

He bit down hard on his lip as he forced himself to his feet, and the metallic taste of blood quickly started filling his mouth as well. Pain and agony overwhelmed his senses, but he drove it to the back of his mind as best he could. If he was taken now, he would never see Marinette again, and a life without Marinette.. well.. that was a life Felix didn’t care to live.

Le Paon threw himself into a sprint, despite his body screaming for him to stop, and jumped to the next rooftop. Then to the next. Marinette’s house was somewhere around here. He just needed to run far enough to get there.

~~~~~~

Marinette twirled around her room as she brushed her hair, remembering the way Felix held her as they danced. She never wanted to forget it.

“Oh, Tikki, I wish you could have seen it.” Marinette sighed wistfully. “He was so handsome in that tux, and the way he smiled at me just- ugh.”

Tikki offered a sweet smile. “I’m glad you had a good time.”

Marinette chuckled. “I had the best time. He even complimented my dress-” She gestured to her dress that was now draped across the chaise “-and asked me to make his next suit! Felix really is wonderful.”

Tikki chuckled, but before she could reply, a thud came from the balcony.

Marinette’s eyes snapped upward, her grin growing. First, she got to have a grand evening with Felix, and now, Le Paon’s finally come back to see her! That landing was a bit rougher than usually, but undoubtedly him. No one else visited her at night via balcony.

She scrambled up to open the trapdoor, briefly thinking over the fact that she was currently dressed in pajamas. He probably wouldn’t mind, though. It was late.

Marinette pushed open the trapdoor with a smile, but whatever banter she was about to use died in her throat when she saw him.

Le Paon was curled on the ground, a hand to his side and a scowl of pain on his features. Something was soaked into his clothes, and she felt a wave of panic at the thought of what it might be.

“L-Le Paon!” She said, shocked and worried and confused. How did this happen? Wasn’t the miraculous supposed to protect them? Did Hawkmoth lash out at him somehow? “What- what happened? Are you okay? Who did this to you?”

Le Paon twitched slightly, his glazed eyes rolling up to get a glimpse of her. He seemed on the verge of being delirious. “Police… guns.. I didn’t..”

Marinette gripped her shirt over her heart. The police? Did he have a run in with the police? Wait- had he been shot?!

“I’m taking you inside.” She said sternly, even though her hands were shaking. If he truly was covered in blood, she needed to clean it up and patch up the wound as soon as possible. Who knew how long he’d had the injury now?

Marinette wrapped her arms around Le Paon’s waist and tried to ignore his pained gasps as she tugged him downwards.

This is for his own good. She told herself. He’s going to be in pain no matter what you do.

As gently as possible, Marinette carried him to her bed- thank goodness for her Ladybug training -and carefully set him down across the sheets. Le Paon squirmed at first, but settled a few moments later.

“Stay right here.” Marinette instructed softly, even though it was clear that he wasn’t going anywhere. “I’m gonna get you a towel to help with the bleeding and then get some bandages.”

Le Paon managed a nod, and Marinette spared him a quick glance before rushing downstairs to her bathroom. She briefly wondered how she was going to explain all of the blood to her parents later, but that was a question for later. Right now, the main problem was Le Paon’s gunshot wound.

A gunshot wound! For Pete’s sake, how did he even get it? She thought the miraculous suits were supposed to protect them from the brunt of those things, though she’d never really been shot with a bullet as Ladybug before either. How did he get here with that injury? Did he run all the way there?

“Gosh, Le Paon..” She muttered to herself, yanking a towel from her sink cabinet. Should she call an ambulance? What would they do? He was technically a convicted criminal. Wasn’t that similar to turning him in?

Marinette climbed back up to her bed with towel in hand and quickly pressed it to Le Paon’s wound.

“Keep it here to help stop the bleeding.” She told him, putting his hand over the towel. “I need to get bandages now.”

Le Paon just closed his eyes, which fueled Marinette to quicken her pace. She scurried down the steps again, heading back to the bathroom. She grabbed a small, silver tray along the way and dumped out the sewing contents on it. Her parents had given it to her from the bakery to help keep her pins together, but it should work to hold the medical supplies as well.

Bandages.. Bandages.. She rummaged through the cabinets and drawers, finally finding a roll of bandages in the bottom left drawer. She then found a clean washrag and soaked it in water to clean the wound, along with another clean towel to dry the wound afterwards.

Once she had the necessary items, Marinette rushed back up the ladder to Le Paon. Panic spiked in her chest when she saw how limp he was, but a quick check of the pulse proved to simply be asleep.

“Probably passed out from blood loss.” She pondered aloud as she knelt beside him.

The tray was set aside so she could pry away the bloodied towel. Thankfully, the bleeding had slowed, but she needed to work quickly so it wouldn’t get worse. Marinette lightly cleaned the bullet wound with the washrag, glancing at Le Paon every now and then to make sure he wasn’t in too much pain. Once the blood was cleared away and she could clearly see the wound, Marinette got to work wrapping the bandages around him. It was a bit difficult at first, since he was laying down, but with some coaxing, she got Le Paon to sit up in a near-asleep state so she could wrap the wound swiftly and efficiently.

“Do you think that’s enough?” Marinette whispered to Tikki after a few minutes.

The kwami glanced over from her hiding spot behind a dresser and nodded.

Marinette blew out a small, relieved sigh and cut the bandage strip before sticking it to the rest of the wrapping. “There. That should work for him until he can get back home.”

If he can get back home.

Marinette gathered the medical supplies back onto the small tray she had and stood. He would probably be asleep for a while. She might need to get some extra blankets to sleep on the chaise tonight.

As she turned to go find some blankets and put up the tray, a frantic, high pitched beeping reached her ears. Marinette’s heart sank into her stomach when she realized what it was, all too late.

A flash of light illuminated the room, and she squeezed her eyes shut.

Le Paon just detransformed. In her bedroom. Of all the places he could have detransformed, it just had to be her bedroom.

A squeal-ish groan came from what Marinette assumed was the kwami.

“I.. I think I’m just gonna take a small nap.” It said groggily.

Curiosity urged Marinette to open her eyes, but she ignored it. She couldn’t see who Le Paon was, not without his permission. She’d want him to do the same, after all.

Marinette felt around the room so she could find the ladder, wondering how on earth she would get around with her eyes closed the whole night. Should she really try to go down the ladder blinded? That didn’t seem like the best idea.. But could she trust herself not to look at Le Paon while her eyes were open?

A pained gasp sounded from behind her, and Marinette whirled around before she could think about what she was doing, eyes wide open to see what was wrong.

And in all truth, there were way too many things wrong with what she saw.

Felix Agreste, the boy she’d been pining over for a good few weeks now, was lying on her bed.

The tray slipped from her fingers, clattering to the floor.

Felix Agreste, who she’d danced with that very night, who she almost kissed a week ago, was Le Paon, Paris’ most wanted villain, her most unusual house guest.

“I don’t..” Marinette put a hand to her head. “I don’t understand.”

Tikki was suddenly by her side, ancient eyes filled with worry. “Marinette-”

“How can-” Marinette stopped again to swallow down the lump in her throat. “-How can Felix be here? He can’t- He can’t really be Le Paon, right? That’s not- that’s not possible.”

Tikki tried to say something else, but Marinette couldn’t stand long enough for the kwami to do so. Her legs buckled, causing her to stumble onto the ground next to the spilled medical supplies.

It wasn’t possible. It wasn’t.

But there Felix was, still sleeping somewhat peacefully, still holding patches of blood from his gunshot wound.

Oh gosh, Felix got shot.

Marinette put a hand over her mouth, suddenly sick to her stomach. How did this happen? How did he get the peacock miraculous? How long has he had it? Has she been fighting him as Ladybug this whole time?

Tears burned in the corner of her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. This was not the time for grieving. Or rage. Or whatever emotional was swirling inside her. Felix or not- he was still injured horribly. She needed to stay focused.

..But how could she? How could she help him with a clear mind when she knew that the man who had been terrorizing Paris and the man she’d so desperately fallen in love with were one and the same? For Pete’s sake, she’s fallen in love with Paris’ most wanted! What was she going to do? What was he going to do once he woke up? Would he try to get rid of her now that she knew his identity? No, no, Felix wouldn’t do that, right? He wasn’t that kind of person.. But does she really know what kind of person he is anymore? He’s been hiding this for months now. What else was he hiding?

Felix shuddered again, bringing her from her thoughts, and curled into himself with a grimace.

The pain must have increased when he detransformed. Marinette thought with a slight frown. Should she help him? What could she do? If she tried to wake him up to take medicine, he would know that his identity’s been revealed, but if she left him alone, he might wake up from the pain anyway..

Tentatively, Marinette moved a bit closer to Felix’s side, watching. His chest rose as he drew in a deep breath, and he shifted to the side, causing his head to fall to the right towards her. It made her wish he were as innocent as he looked in that moment.

Marinette sighed and closed the distance between them to brush the pale, blonde wisps of hair out of his face. Felix might have been keeping his identity a secret, but she’d been keeping her identity a secret too. Besides, it’s not like he could just up and tell her that he was a super villain, now, could he?

Marinette brushed her hand over his, hoping he wouldn’t wake up from it, and gave him a light kiss on the forehead. “I don’t know how you got into this mess, but I’m going to get you out. I promise.”

She was about to pull her hand away- didn’t want him waking up on her -but something else caught her eye first.

Another light, this time pink, flickering around his bandages.

Marinette frowned, because Le Paon’s magic was blue, not pink. Was something wrong? What was the light doing around the bandages?

The light grew brighter, slowly but surely shining through each bandage wrapping around Felix’s injury.

Marinette, now panicking, let go of Felix’s hand to inspect the spontaneous source of light, but as soon as she drew back, the light faded away.

She sat there for a moment, dumbfounded and staring, wondering what she should do next. “What.. what was that?”

Tikki gave her a knowing smile. “That was a part of your miraculous magic.”

Marinette blinked. Her what?

“What are you talking about?”

Tikki settled in the covers next to Felix. “When a new miraculous holder is chosen, they are partly fused with their miraculous and their kwami’s magic. It’s a minor effect that is necessary for you to transform.”

Marinette furrowed her brows. “So.. that bright light just now.. That was me?”

“Yep!” A chipper voice spoke up before Tikki could reply. “And that was some of the best magic I’ve ever seen from a holder! They usually can’t unlock their true potential so quickly.”

Tikki and Marinette turned to see a blue and pink kwami sitting up on Felix’s stomach with a bright smile.

“O-Oh..” Marinette faltered. In the whole “Felix being Le Paon” ordeal, she’d forgotten about the other kwami that had flown from Felix’s miraculous when he detransformed. “Um.. hello. You’re Felix’s kwami, right?”

The being nodded. “That’s me! You can call me Duusu.”

Marinette offered Duusu a smile. “Nice to meet you. I’m Marinette.”

“I know who you are.” Duusu smiled. “My chosen never stops talking about you.”

A heavy blush bloomed across Marinette’s cheeks. “F-Felix talks about me?”

Duusu nodded. “Only when he’s alone, though. My chosen doesn’t like being overheard.”

“Oh..” She replied dumbly, still reeling from the fact that Felix talks about her. “That makes sense.”

“I’m sorry for not introducing myself earlier. Sustaining that bullet wound drained more of my energy than I’m used to.” Duusu apologized.

Marinette glanced down at the miniature god. “Oh, don’t worry! Is your energy still low? Do you want me to get you some snacks?”

Duusu’s eyes lit up. “Would you? I’m famished.”

Marinette giggled and stood up. “Of course. Is there anything specific you want?”

“Truffles! You’re guys’ truffles are the best!” Duusu answered eagerly.

The image of Felix nervously waiting in their bakery for the first time flicked through Marinette’s mind, and she nearly face palmed. That’s why he went to the bakery for truffles!

“I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Marinette smiled, before racing down the ladder again. She didn’t want to leave Felix alone for too long, even if he was in the care of two ancient gods.

By the time she returned with a small plate of truffles and chocolate chip cookies, Tikki was also sitting on Felix’s stomach, next to Duusu.

“So, Tikki,” Marinette began as she handed them the treats, “You said the glowing light was part of the magic I inherited from you, but what did the magic do?”

Tikki hummed. “It’s hard to say. The Ladybug miraculous is the miraculous of life and creation. It can create things, reinvent things.. But judging by the way you seemed to use it, I would say it probably healed some of his bullet wound, or at least got the process started.”

Marinette’s eyes widened. “You think so?”

Tikki nodded.

Marinette turned to the bandages. “.. Should.. Do you think we should check?”

“Unwrapping the bandages now might cause more damage if the wound didn’t actually heal..” Tikki replied thoughtfully. “It’s probably best if we leave it alone.”

“But I’m sure he’ll be grateful to you later if it is healed!” Duusu said helpfully.

Marinette froze. “You’re not gonna tell him, are you?”

“He can’t know about this, Duusu.” Tikki added firmly.

Duusu glanced between them, a slight frown taking on her expression. “If my chosen asks me what happened, I cannot lie to him.”

“..And if he doesn’t ask you?” Marinette asked hopefully.

Duusu smiled again. “Then your secret’s safe with me. The fact that he’s detransformed will be a dead give away, though.”

Marinette bit her lip. Right.. That was another problem.

“I don’t suppose you can transform him without the magical incantation?”

Duusu tilted her head back and forth. “It takes a bit more concentration, but sure!”

Marinette’s shoulders slumped slightly from relief. She hadn’t realized how tense she was until that moment, but it was fine now. Everything would be fine.

As Tikki and Duusu continued catching up, Marinette found herself studying Felix’s bandages again. Stains of dried blood were on the wrappings from earlier, but not a trace of fresh blood seemed to be present. It was as if the bleeding had stopped all together.

She hummed, brushing her fingertips against the stain.

Miraculous of Life, huh?

~~~~~~

Felix shifted onto his back, letting his eyes crack open. It was hard to make out the pinks and whites from the blur of his vision and the dim lighting of the room, but he assumed it to be a wall and a small dresser. His hand dug into the covers that he was laying on. Was this a bed? It wasn’t his bed. How did he get here? Where was here?

Felix let his eyes slip closed again, trying to remember what happened. His side ached a tad.. Because he’d been shot, that’s right.. And then he ran to Marinette’s balcony before-

His eyes snapped open, and he bolts upright to look down at his waist. He then tensed, waiting for the pain from moving so quickly. Nothing happened.

Felix frowned at the bandages now wrapped around his waist- had Marinette done that? -and poked at the blood stain. It still gave him a dull ache, but no sharp pains. Was the gunshot less serious than he realized that it healed already? Or was it some sort of magic his miraculous had given him?

Speaking of magic..

Felix glanced around the rest of his outfit, relieved to see that he was still covered in blue and purples. He could only imagine what Marinette might have thought had he detransformed in her house.

Where is Marinette? He hasn’t heard her yet. Come to think of it, he hasn’t heard anything yet.

Wait, what time is it?

Le Paon turned to find some sort of clock and spotted a small, pink alarm clock on the dresser.

His heart dropped when he made out the hot pink numbers.

“3am?” He almost yelled. No wonder the house was so quiet! Everyone was asleep! Oh, how was he going to apologize to Marinette? Knowing her, she was probably sick with worry. He must have stained half of her bedroom with his own blood. (Because out of everything, he definitely remembered the blood.)

And Father. How was he going to react? Felix not only snuck out, but he also won't be returning until past three in the morning with a gunshot wound. Honestly, Felix might as well kiss his social life goodbye right now. (And who knew he’d started to treasure it so much?)

I need to get home.

Le Paon shuffled on the bed to get up. He wasn’t sure how he would make this up to Marinette, but he definitely would. Maybe he could pay for a new comforter? Or simply pay her in general for the trouble of-

“Le Paon? Is that you?”

Le Paon froze at the sound of Marinette’s voice. Should he answer? Would she let him leave if he did?

Before he could decide, Marinette scaled the ladder, confirming that he was, in fact, the one making all the noise.

“Oh, good. You’re up.” She said with a soft smile, as if this entire situation wasn’t completely jarring. “How’s your waist. Are you feeling okay?”

Le Paon, despite feeling like a deer caught in the headlights, nodded. “Much better thanks to you.”

Marinette breathed a small sigh of relief. “That’s good to hear. You really had me worried.”

Le Paon grimaced, guilt panging in his chest. It was three in the morning, and he had dragged blood and filth into her bedroom- she still had some stains on her shirt, to his horror -but she was still wide awake and checking on him with a smile. Had she stayed up this whole time to watch him?

“I’m sorry.” The words fell from his lips before he could finish wallowing in his guilt. “I shouldn’t have come to your house. You shouldn’t have had to take care of me. Now you have stains everywhere.”

Marinette waved off his apologies. Of course she did. It was who she was. “You probably should have been more careful, but don’t ever apologize for having me take care of you. We’re friends, aren’t we? I’m here for you.”

Le Paon stared at her, wondering how someone could possibly be so kind.

“Besides,” She continued with a teasing smile. “Did you think I was just going to let you die?”

Le Paon swallowed, lost in the sparkle of her eyes. “No.. No, I suppose you wouldn’t.”

Marinette knelt down next to the bed, eyeing his bandages. “Do you remember what happens? You said something about the police and gunshots before you passed out.”

Ah, so that’s why he didn’t remember getting to Marinette’s bed. “I was roaming around Paris and found a pack of police officers, but I sort of forgot I was a criminal, so.. I didn’t expect the rounds of gunfire that they started shooting at me.”

Marinette pressed her lips together in a thin line, obviously displeased. “They just started firing? That’s a bit rash.. I feel like there should have been other, less painful methods that came first.”

Le Paon shrugged. “Well, I am a terrorist.”

Bad choice of words. Marinette frowned. “You don’t have to be.”

He stares at her. She stares back. A silent pleading between the two.

“I have to get going.” Le Paon finally murmurs. “I’ve already been out too late.”

Another sigh left Marinette, but she obediently scooted back to give him some to get up. “Are you sure you’re well enough to move like that?”

Le Paon offered her a small smile as he pushed himself to his feet. “I’ll be fine.”

Marinette stood as well, following him to the other ladder that led to the balcony. “Okay.. just don’t push yourself.”

“No promises.” Le Paon joked as he grabbed the bar of the ladder. “Thank you, though. For everything.”

He climbed up the ladder, noting the significant lack of pain coming from his injury. He’ll have to thank Duusu for that later.

Le Paon hoisted himself through the trapdoor and swung his feet upwards, onto the balcony, but before he could stand up again-

“W-Wait!” Marinette said, tugging on his wrist. She’d followed him right up the ladder too.

Le Paon looked down at her. “Yes?”

She pulled away, pressing her forefingers together with a nervous look. “I.. Um.. you…”

Marinette leaned forward before he could even blink and pressed a light, hesitant kiss to his cheek. “Be safe.”

Le Paon exhaled at the touch of her lips, so soft and yet so burning on his skin. It infected his very being, poured into every bit of body as his mind slowly came to realize what happened. She’d kissed him. Marinette had kissed him on the cheek. It was a common thing to do in Paris usually, but this felt different. He felt different, and he couldn’t help wanting more.

Le Paon reached forward and cupped her cheek. He’s not sure how a single emotion or urge can consume someone so wholly, but his lips find hers in an instant.

Marinette stiffened, causing him to pull back slightly. He should’ve known she wouldn’t reciprocate it. Not when he’s dressed like a villain.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

Marinette tugged him forward, crashing her lips onto his and effectively cutting off his apology.

Le Paon moaned, letting his arms slip around her to pull her closer. Any thoughts or guilts or worries were drowned out far too easily by the fireworks in his soul. Her hands raked through hair, igniting every part of his skin that she touched. How could a kiss be so sweet and so passionate at the same time?

They broke apart for air, but Felix wasn’t certain he’d never need oxygen again if he only had her.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He panted, because it was the right thing to do. Even if a bigger part of him wanted to stay, Le paon needed to leave. For both their sakes.

Marinette’s eyes met his, and he was tempted to stay all over again. “.. Do you have to go?”

Oh, if that sentence didn’t burn him alive.

He shifted to stand, but his hands remained on her, almost like he needed permission to leave. Or maybe he just didn’t want to let go until he had to. “Goodnight.”

Marinette pursed her lips and slowly untangled her hands from his hair. “Goodnight.”

And just like that, he was gone, bounding across rooftops, longing to taste Marinette one more time, and knowing full well that he wasn’t getting anymore sleep that night.

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#Felinette #Le Paon AU #Marinette #Felix Agreste

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jyunshiim · 3 years

Text

𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬; 𝙨𝙤 𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙩 *✬★*’☽* ✬ ⤷𝘒𝘪𝘩𝘺𝘶𝘯 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘶 | 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑

Contains → fluff | angst

Listen to → Compass

Word count → 4975

TW → drinking & alcohol, implied assault (not explicit but implied)

Chapters → Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

The airport was bustling with people from all over the world. People with hoods up, a neck pillows around their neck, sweatshirts on and power banks at hand. Your arms wrap around you, tightening around you as you walk alongside Changkyun and Kihyun. Changkyun rolls his suitcases along side him, his hood looming over his head and his airpods in his ears ready for his departure. The atmosphere was tense but you knew what you heart was feeling. Kihyun tried to initiate conversation and Changkyun tried to keep his composure too since his mind was hectic enough after what happened a month or so ago. He stood still and turned around ready to say goodbye to his two best friends. You coudnt be mad at him, he was following his dream, something you encouraged so you took a deep breath and gave him once last hug. Who knew when he’d come back, today was the last day. “Hey, I’ll message you and talk to you and we can still play you know?” his hand rests at the back of your head and you felt serenity when he did so. You nod your head, feeling your eyes pool with tears already; “I value our friendship and trust me, it will never change!” he forces a smile knowing how much it pained him to formulate what came out of his mouth. Kihyun gently patted your back as you stepped away from Changkyun, your cheeks wet from your tears. “Your hoodies wet, sorry.” You sniffle as Changkyun just smiles at you reassuringly. “It’s okay, don’t worry about it.” He looks down in despair. Changkyun hugs Kihyun however this time it felt apologetic and empathetic; “I’m sorry if I caused you any pain Kihyun, take care of her well, I’ll see you again sometime soon,” His lips stretch into a smile before he grabs his suitcase to make his journey to the States. Who knew when the trio would meet again.

“Hey, are you okay?” Kihyun asks you. He could tell from the empty stare that you were hurt but you turn to him smiling as you’d always do, “yeah, I’m okay just… wouldn’t have expected him to leave you know?” you shrug before linking your arm with Kihyun’s. Changkyun pondered in the aircraft, his head leaning against the interior of the plane, staring to the nothingness outside. He was off to the states with his parents to start a new life, to experience new things. You and Kihyun took the bus home but instead Kihyun stopped off at the mall. “why did you stop here?” you ask looking at yourself in your compact mirror. “Maybe get you something to eat since you didn’t eat anything?” He grabs your hand and looks back up at your again and stops for a moment. Maybe that wasn’t a good idea? He gently takes his hand away from yours and waits for you to get off before he followed. Kihyun tried his best on this occasion to make you happy, paying for food and also buying some ice cream. The sky was progressively getting darker as you both walked home together the sweetness of the ice cream setting on your tastebuds. “are you feeling slightly better now?” he asks you as he holds the empty ice cream cup in his left hand leaving his right hand unoccupied. “a little bit, I guess I just have to accept it right?” you smile at him, “besides I’m moving onto campus in a couple days so it’s just the matter of getting on with it.” You clear you throat before a downpour spewed from the darkened sky. Instinctively, you latch onto Kihyun’s arm but that was when he’d have an umbrella on him. “it didn’t say it’d rain today?” Kihyun looks over at you shivering from the rain. He takes his long bomber jacket off from his body and drapes it over your shoulders to keep you as warm as possible. “What are you doing Kihyun?” the exclamation in your voice startling him. “You’re cold and I gave you my jacket,” Kihyun’s head tilts, stating what he was doing. “I mean, thank you I do appreciate it,” you smile, “if you had other ideas in your head, don’t..” Kihyun panicked. You smiled at his light-hearted teasing but Kihyun looked ahead whilst walking. You approached your house first and gave Kihyun a hug; “thank you for walking me home and comforting me this evening,” You say as your head was leaning into his shoulder, his arms were around your waist respectively. “I’ll be here for you and Changkyun will be there for you to regardless of time zones,” he speaks softly as you part from the embrace, “I know, I hope we can still keep in touch when we move to university.” You say as you make eye contact with Kihyun’s . You remove the jacket from the shoulders and hand it to Kihyun; “please get home safely, message me when you’re home,” You smile at Kihyun. It was like old times, where you used to prove you cared for me…“I will, I promise,” Kihyun puts his hand on your shoulder before he turns around and leaves through the gates and disappears around the corner. My heart never skipped beats like this before, get a hold of yourself. He puts his jacket back on and makes the rest of the journey home with the bus.

“Are you home yet?” you type in then delete the message. Your phone rests in your hand and you think what to write. You didn’t want to sound obsessive or too protective but you wanted to sound protective enough. “hey, are you home safe and sound?”

Kihyun looks down at his phone, taking it out of his pocket as he takes his shoes off and hangs his wet jacket to dry. “Yeah, just walked in,” Kihyun types, it felt weird how you’d message him only when you didn’t have Changkyun’s attention but he shook his head to forget the absurd thoughts since his mind was making things up to mess with him. “you okay?” he messages back.

“Yeah especially after this evening, thank you so much Kihyun,” you reply to him as you sit at your dining table with your family for dinner; “do you wanna maybe help out with me moving out?” you type then delete it again because he must be doing the same. “when will you be moving to your uni campus?” You ask him since you didn’t know where he was going but assumed it wasn’t to yours. “I’m packing on Thursday for Saturday.” Kihyun replies,

The blinking line in the text box blinks to the rhythm of your heart. You felt stupid for asking but you were curious. Your evening was spent with your family, enjoying and celebrating your acceptance to Seoul University; you wondered how these wondrous dorms looked like and if you were going to have a room mate, you thought about making new friends and going to university events and having unlimited access to the library that was radiating knowledge. It was all so new and it was exciting to you. You messaged Changkyun just so he knew you were thinking about him and you waited for his response although you knew he wouldn’t reply until tomorrow. You had to begin packing so you went to scavenge for some boxes which were in the attic. Your father helped bring the ladder down and you both went up to grab some boxes and to your surprise you found a few things that your forgot about. There were some photo albums and multiple boxes of trinkets and items which you went through. They were photos of you and Kihyun from your preschool days, some toys and presents that were made by Kihyun and a his glove that he left at your house when he was 6 years old. It brought a smile to you face. “hey, are these all you need?” your father asks holding up some flat boxes; “huh? Oh, yeah those are it!” you leave the stuff in the box and put it back into its place and going back down to pack your items. During the process, it felt nauseating to leave your family and voyage on this journey alone. How would you cope without your mother and father there to help you when you needed them, your mothers cooking, your puppy? It should be fine right? Your desk was almost all cleared away and you grabbed the final two things; the photo of you Changkyun and Kihyun and the stuffed bunny. You couldn’t leave them behind you had to take them with you.

Moving out day arrived shortly and you sat in the car with your father going to your campus to move in. “did you check your accommodation?” your father asks. “I did and it looked good!” you smile confidently. Little did you know photos and real life are two different things. You arrived to your accommodation; it was a tall building looming over on the street that had other accommodation complexes; the prices were astronomical and almost unaffordable so you stayed safe with the cheaper option. You fiddle with the keycard between your sweaty palms, why were you so nervous? You got to your dorm and you swiped the card to let you in although, despite the technology, the interior was cold and almost damp. “oh god, why is it like this in here?” your father asks as he takes a look around. The gas pipes trailed along the skirting of the walls, the paint was chipped and had minor stains on them which you didn’t want to question, not to mention the tattered curtains and dark carpets. “these carpets were supposed to be a light brown,” your father gulped “I have a carpet cleaner at home, we can clean this place up a bit before you settle?” he suggests and you just nod to him, not feeling very satisfied with what you have witnessed. You check the bathroom; the tiles were a rusty brown and there was limescale covering the shower head, taps and sink. God… you thought to yourself, you had a lot of cleaning to do. You didn’t have a private kitchen so the communal kitchen was something you had to get used to as well as sharing a fridge and cupboards. From this day on, you began to get your dorm into shape, cleaning and restoring the dorm as much as you could and investing in some slippers just to be extra clean! You set up your computer at your desk and brought in your items to move in peacefully. The windows were large and opened wide enough to let out the aroma of bleach and chemicals waft out as you spray some air freshener so you could respirate in your own living space. After your father left, you tried to get used to your dorm before there was a knock just as you sat down. You didn’t know if you should open the door so you just yelled: “ I didn’t order anything, I just moved in!”

“We’re not here for delivery!” one of the voices called out. It was a cheerful, higher pitched voice. She sounded cute and friendly so you stood up and took the risk to open the door. The girl had a blue hair that was looking seafoam green in the hallway lighting. He eyes were rounder and her dark almost like a puppy. “Hello floor mate, I’m Gowon!” she is the most beautiful person I have ever seen in my life – you thought to yourself. “ I moved in a couple weeks ago and I thought we could get to know each other!” She smiles, her pink tinted lips turn into a wholesome smile. You nervously chuckle, “ahah yeah! That’d be nice. I’m trying to get used to me dorm right now,” your hand rests on the back of your neck. “ you’ll get used to it in no time!” she smiles at you, “what are you going to major in?” she asks. God, I’m a Business and Management major, does that make me boring? “Business and Management..” your tone lowers, embarrassed at what you were saying. “Oh my god really! My friend does that, I’m super interested in fashion so fashion designing was quite interesting!” who was her friend? “do you have anyone from your school here?” Gowon asks and you shake your head. “what can you do,” you let your lips curl into a smile, “ one of my friends moved to the states because he wanted to go to university there and my other friend is staying here but I don’t know where he’s going, he hasn’t told me and I don’t wanna ask him because what if he did tell me and I wasn’t listening, I’d feel bad.” Your thoughts where going hectic. Gowon puts her hand on your shoulder, “hey! It’s okay if you keep in contact that’s all that matters and besides you can meet new people here!”

Gowon was so sweet and you could see yourself become really close friends with her. You text Kihyun; “hey! I moved in.” you type and add a smile emoticon to make it seem less dry than looked. You notice the bubble with the three dots appear – he was typing- and you sat on your bed waiting for his reply. “that’s cool! How is it?” he replied. He wanted to know what conditions you were living in hoping it was too bad. “it’s okay, there were a few problems but it’s okay, it’s all sorted out… kinda.”

You spoke to Kihyun for a few minutes before he had to go offline since he was busy. You first university day starts in a couple weeks so you had time to get used to your environment and make some friends while you were at it but it wasn’t easy since everyone was in their rooms most the time. Only Gowon was out on walks or getting some coffee or going for a small food shop. You thought it’d be a good opportunity to hang out with her for a while to get comfortable and become closer friends.

[a couple weeks later]

Your alarm buzzed at 6am. You haven’t heard that for a while and it was infuriating to hear the annoying sound at your ears when it was still dark outside. You grab your phone and sit up in your bed, tossing aside your phone which decided it would like it better on the floor. You groaned tiredly and slip on you slippers and grab a hoodie to make your way to the bathroom to freshen up. You look around for the toothbrush and toothpaste wondering where they were. Of course, you didn’t turn the light on, so your pushed the light switch to find them on your sink. Your tiredness was getting the best of you. You got dressed and decided today wasn’t the day for breakfast, grabbed your bad, phone, purse and key card to make your way to campus. It was cold but it was refreshing to walk in. Usually you’d walk with Kihyun but of course, he wasn’t here to walk with you every morning.

Gowon runs up behind you; “bOO!” she yells which startles you. “oh my-” you raise your voice only to realise it was Gowon. “did I scare you?” he nudged. Your connection to her felt familiar, like you knew her for a long time and it was comforting. You see behind her there was another person; His hair was blond and wavey, stopping just under is brows, lips tinted a light pink and his smooth, glass like skin illuminated by the winter sun. “This is Minhyuk, he helped me out when we both moved on the same day!” Gowon introduces and Minhyuk waves at you, smiling at you charmingly. You raise your hand and introduce yourself before you all go to campus. Who knew how easy it was to make new friends? Two already?

You think how Kihyun was doing but to your little knowledge, he was already in his first class getting to know everyone. He looked at his phone, swiping up to unlock it then pressing the green speech bubble to message you. “Hey, you in uni yet?” he asks you. “hey Kihyun, I am. Why are you messaging me?” you sounded a little passive aggressive you you send the ‘x’ kiss. “you do know I got to the same university as you but someonewas too excited to even ask me :/” you gasped and held the screen closer to your face. “have you seen a ghost?” Gowon asks “or did someone send you an early morning naughty photo” Minhyuk snickers behind her looking over her should just to see a series of texts. “boyfriend?” he asks. You shake your head; “no no, it’s just my best friend apparently he goes here too but-” you were interrupted by Gowon’s gas, “you didn’t ask him! Girl, were you dating someone and forgot about him?” you stood there silently biting your lip. “I take that as a yes, tell us about him, what does he do, where does he go, introduce us to him plea-” Gowon paused after seeing how dismal it made you feel talking about him. “he left to the states and I guess I have to move on,” you force a smile, “lets go shall we?”

Why did Kihyun make it hard for you. Now they think you’re in a love triangle, you hope they didn’t at least. Your introductory day went well and you met a lot of people who are doing the same degree as you. “Hey,” Kihyun waves with a smile whislt walking over to you. “Wow how have you not fallen for him?” Gowon asks you and you don’t respond. “what’s up man, your bestie here has said a lot about you!” Lies. Absolute lies. I don’t hate him but you don’t want people to get the wrong idea. “oh really? I must be the centre of your conversations then.” He looks down at you and ruffles your hair and you smile back. “well me and Kihyun have know each other since we were born pretty much,” you giggle before someone interrupted yet again, “hey, you four coming to the freshers party?” he asks. You all look at each other. “oh um, sure why not!” Minhyuk smiles from ear to ear. Freshers parties are for the new students to interact and get to know each other often organised by the senior students. “when is it?” Kihyun and Gowon ask simultaneously. “it’s actually going to be next month since the uni team are free then, it’ll be at a share house just a few minutes away from the campus, but I hope you guys can come!” the guy smiles and waves. “OI wait, what time?” Minhyuk hollers. “Probably 7pm and you can leave by the early hours of the morning, see ya!”

“damn so much freedom and responsibility, how does it feel to be so free?” Gowon asks. “My parents allowed me to do things reasonably, but this is a lot of responsibility,” you twiddled your thumbs, “she never got drunk, a good little bunny she is.” Kihyun smiles and chuckles teasing you. “you guys seem like a couple” Gowon giggles, “what a shame girly, I quite liked the look of your best friend Kihyun.” Gowon pouted. You felt a bit sick; “ew, this guy? Did you know he-” Kihyun’s hand covers your mouth, “now now, I am a man of many mysteries,” he raises a brow. You scoff.

Later that evening you hung out with the three friends you have, and you were invited to Minhyuk’s dorm. “Damn you have everything sorted here, your lights are cool!” Kihyun points out, “and a games console, alright turn it on let’s play!”

You and Gowon sit on Minhyuk’s bed and talk to each other. You glance at the boys and your heart does flips. No stop it don’t do that. You tell yourself, Gowon’s voice muffling until you were shaken out of it – quite literally. You try to divert the attention and soon after you decide to go back to your dorm. The trio seemed disheartened that you had to leave first but you just had to go.

You lay in your bed staring at the leak stain on your ceiling before turning away to the side, watching the screen of your phone glow blue. You gasped; “Hey, how are you?” it was Changkyun and he finally messaged you since he left. “I’m okay-” you think to type ‘I miss you’ but you didn’t want to sound .. well you know. “I’m okay, I made a couple friends!”

You and Changkyun spoke for a little bit until he stopped replying. It seems like he fell asleep; you knew he was enjoying his time there, Changkyun never turns down a party. You sigh loudly in your room before the heating stops and your room temperature drops rapidly. “no no no-“ you go to your heating dial trying to fix it. There was no hope; why is it your dorm room with all these problems? You let it be and tried to go to sleep with layers of blankets to keep you warm.

“Hey, are you excited for the party?” Gowon asks. “so excited,” you smile and look at Minhyuk and Kihyun talking about something, “how about you guys?” You ask. “awh yeah, I think it’d be so cool!” Minhyuk smiled; his soft puppy like features not matching up with his ‘rebellious bad boy’ vibes was something that entranced you, just how? “Yeah, It’s a new experience so that’s cool,” Kihyun added.

Throughout the day you and Gowon and Minhyuk became closer as did Kihyun. “yo, so where does your girlfriend go?” Minhyuk asks assuming Kihyun had one. Kihyub smiles and sighs, “I never dated anyone..” Gowon gasped at his remark. “I mean I tried to set him up with my friend Irene but he just refused,” you shrug “what a shame, she was a nice girl.” You say as you stand beside him. “she actually refused me, did she tell you otherwise?” he asks you, his voice low. What’s gotten in to him? “I mean, no I just assumed that-“ you were interrupted by him, “heres a life lesson, assuming things isn’t very safe it can lead to many problems,” He patted your head and smiled “she refused me politely so now you know.”

Gowon stared at him in disbelief. “have you ever had feeling for anyone?” she was interested to know. He shook his head; it was a blatant lie. “Woow…” she looked away in disbelief. Kihyun laughed already predicting their reactions but he brushed it off it was no big deal, sometimes it was best to move on, right? [later that evening] The room was cramped with students new and old dancing and drinking with their friends in the kitchen, standing in the hallways and sitting on stairs. The music was blaring out so loud that you could barely even hear your thoughts which was a good thing. You approached a small group of people who seemed to be a year older; “hey! You’re a new student here right, first year?” one of the guys spoke out to you from the other end of the room and he seemed to be approaching you at a quick pace with a drink in his hand. “want some help getting to know some people?” he seemed super friendly and draped an arm around you and escorted you around the place. You already lost the others, usually Kihyun would be beside you regardless but he left with Minhyuk somewhere. You took a sip of the liquid which gave your tongue a burning sensation; “new to drinking I see, you’ll get used to it,” he smiles at you his arm tightening around your shoulder. “so out here are all the kids who were a part of some drama and they’re quite daring too, I must say I am a part of that group,” he chuckles “no worries though because in the kitchen are the 2nd year business and management lot.. they’re a bit boring but there’s that,” he tuts and passes them as your heart sank since you saw Minhyuk and Kihyun together with Gowon and someone else they befriended whilst you were being taken around by some random student. You felt a little dizzy as he was showing you around until you asked to sit down to which you were sat down on a couch with that guy. Voices began to muffle slowly, your world a haze; what was that drink? Or what was IN that drink?

You open your eyes, gasping for air finding yourself still on the couch although your head was in someone’s lap. You look up to see it was Kihyun and you gulped, nervous to even ask what happened. He looked rather angry and out of character, Minhyuk sitting with his hands in his hands and Gowon sitting on the arm of the seat. “she’s up guys there really was no reason to act up like that was it?” She looked at the boys. What even happened?

– Minhyuk and Kihyun both saw you passed out on the couch with the older boys surrounding you with cameras out facing the ‘nice guy’ trying to do something that wasn’t right. They were both furious but they were confused as to why each other reacted the way they did. Charging in absolute anger, Minhyuk threw the guy off you and Kihyun lifted your head up to check up on you. “Leave her alone!” Minhyuk grunted as the guy held him by the collar throwing a punch and leaving him on the floor. Kihyun checked if you were hurt and luckily you weren’t but he thought why Minhyuk go so angry so quick. It reminded him of how protective Changkyun was of you and it made his stomach churn. –

“let’s take you home..” Kihyun sighs “ I don’t think right now is the best time to come to parties..” he knew something would happen if he left you alone. “taking advantage of people is so shit,” Minhyuk scoffs as Gowon pats his back. “Let’s all just go and make sure she’s okay,” Gowon picks up your stuff. Only 3 hours in and this is what happens, what a vibe killer.

Your dorm has a leaking ceiling so when you opened your door your bed was wet. “you must be joking..” you whisper. “are you okay?” Kihyun asks. “yeah I’m fine thanks, you can go now, sorry for the trouble,” you look down in disappointment. “no problem, I’m here for you whenever you need me okay, my apartment is a few minutes away from your dorm,” he writes down his address on a text message and sends it to you. You nod and thank him before shutting the door and looking at the leak and open your door heading out again. “oh hey, you alright?” Minhyuk comes back with a plastic bag of things he bought from the convenience store; “why are you outside?” he asks “leak in my ceiling again…” you respond. “ahh, wanna hang at mine before you decide what to do?” you think for a moment. Maybe going to Kihyun’s was a good idea. “I think I might visit Kihyun now,” you nod.

You felt awful. You created such a scene yet Kihyun was still there for you. You get to his apartment and knock at the door and he opens knowing it was you. “welcome, good thing I’m making food” he smiles grabbing your hand to pull your inside “come here it’s cold out there”

“I’m sorry for what I did today,” you gulp and avoid eye contact. “sorry for what? Being an idiot and taking a drink from someone else? Yeah don’t worry you didn’t know but next time don’t get lost you have a phone for a reason,” he says laying a bowl of ramen in front of you, “anyway eat up,” he says going for it as soon as he sat down. “why are you here?” he asks. You stare at him, there was genuine concern in his eyes. “I have a leak in my dorm and my bed is wet,” Kihyun laughs, “what a lame excuse to hang out with me AND stay with me,” he jokes “I’m joking of course.” He hands you one of his hoodies since you seemed cold. “well you can stay here until someone fixes that leak in your dorm,” he smiles softly. I want to tell her right here right now… he opens his mouth then stops. “what were you going to say?”

“it doesn’t matter don’t worry…” he held back, no matter how hard it was. He tucked a bit of hair that dangled down the side of your face back. “don’t eat your hair too?” he jokes and laughs. “since when were you so cocky Kihyun?” you asked him since you noticed a shift in behaviour. I have no competition… “Oh I guess new school new me?” he shrugs. “right,” you nod.

You and Kihyun sit on his bed watching something on youtube, laughing at a show you both like until he drifted off leaning back on his headboard. You thought it was an uncomfortable position, so you moved his head to your shoulder and threw a blanket over him. This felt like the good old days. Your eyes also began to get heavy, so you thought to close your eyes for only a few seconds. Although, seconds turned to minutes and minutes to hours, by the time you knew it you were both asleep. Fast asleep.

- Chapter 4

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takerfoxx · 3 years

Text

Blood Island, Chapter 4

Climbing back down from the Carmilla’s Fancy was a slow and painful process, but Nuriel wasn’t left with much choice. She was hurt, and she needed to find out how badly.

Finally she dropped down to the sand. Her knees buckles and she staggered, which sent fresh lances of pain across her stomach. Wincing, she grabbed onto a nearby beech trunk and pulled herself back up to her feet and started limping toward the water.

The sun was dipping toward the horizon, but it hadn’t reached it yet, so there was still plenty of light to see by. She waded in up to her calves and slowly pulled the tails of her shirt out of her trousers to inspect the damage.

The cuts were painful, but fortunately shallow. They were bleeding freely, but it didn’t look like anything important had been punctured. Nuriel carefully knelt down and washed them the best she could. The salt water set the fires burning anew and brought fresh tears to her eyes, but she endured.

When she had gotten most of the filth off, she cupped water in her hand and gingerly washed her ear.

The information she got from her fingers wasn’t good. That bird had taken a decent chunk out of her ear, and the flesh that remained was torn and ragged. Just touching it caused the burning pain to flare up.

Nuriel shivered. She was fucked. She was utterly fucked. She might not be in any danger of bleeding out, but wounds like that were sure to get infected. She would die just as easily from that as she would from getting ripped apart, and probably a lot more slowly at that.

Biting down on her lower lip, she glanced around to ensure that nothing was stalking her. Then she yanked out the strips of linen that she had used to bind her breasts and wrapped them around the cuts on her stomach. The pressure brought fresh tears of pain to her eyes, but she knotted them tight and gingerly tucked her shirt back in.

With any luck, the cuts would close without infection. The missing chunk of her ear was gone for good, but it wasn’t the first time someone had taken a large piece of flesh from her, and it was a lot less crippling than last time. At least she could still hear. At least she could-

The white-hot blade sliced through flesh, charring in its wake. Nuriel shrieked and bucked, but the restraints held her in place as Master Reginald coldly made good on his threat.

Sitting restrained across from her, Father wept as he watched. He had to watch. Master Reginald had warned him not to turn away, lest he take off a larger chunk.

Finally it was done, and Nuriel collapsed, weeping around a mouthful of blood and pain. Ignoring her agony, Master Reginald took the lump of flesh into his gloved hands and turned to Father. “I trust I’ve made my point,” he said coldly, and tossed the lump right into Father’s lap. Father grimaced in disgust, but he said nothing. Master Reginald had told him that Nuriel would lose one finger for every word Father said.

“She will live,” Master Reginald continued as he dispassionately pulled off his gloves. “But disappoint me again, and I’ll take something she cannot afford to live without. Do you understand me?”

Nuriel was barely paying any attention. All she knew was pain. Pain, and a gaping emptiness where there hadn’t been one, an emptiness that told her that she would never be the same, never be-

Nuriel’s face twisted up, and she angrily wiped away the tears that had started forming. Stop it, she told herself. Nothing’s gained from going back there. Father’s dead. Master Reginald is dead. It’s just you. And if you survived that, you can survive this.

It was a nice thought, but she could only wish that it was true.

Once she had calmed herself down, Nuriel sighed and turned back to the Carmilla’s Fancy. Getting back aboard was not going to be easy, but it was her best chance to find someplace halfway safe.

The first time she had climbed up, she hadn’t had to worry about moving in any particular way. This time she had to make sure not to bend at the waist too much, to rely on her arms’ to pull herself up through the ladder of branches.

It hurt more than going down did.

Finally she was able to pull herself onto the deck. She rolled onto her back and just lay there, gasping in agony.

She was so fucked.

When the burning had ebbed down into a tolerable throbbing, Nuriel gingerly rolled over and pushed herself up with her palms. Her legs felt wobbly beneath her, but she could stand.

All right, she had the ship to herself now. The bird had fled, and with any luck it would stay away.

Then Nuriel cast a glare over to the captain’s quarters, where its nest was. So long as that was there, there was no guarantee that it wouldn’t be back.

It took some work, but Nuriel was able to wrestle both doors shut. There. At least that damn bird wasn’t going to be slinking back in while she slept.

In the meantime, she needed a place of her own to sleep, and it wasn’t going to be out in the open. Nuriel warily eyed the hatch that led down to the cargo hold. It was shut, so maybe there was a chance that nothing had crawled in.

Opening it sent fresh lances of pain across her belly, but she winced and endured. The sun was close to setting and provided little light down the wooden stairs. Nuriel turned her head this way and that, trying to catch some kind of glimpse of anything that might be lurking within.

When nothing leapt at her face or growled in warning, she began to climb down the steps.

The steps groaned under her feet, but they held her weight, which was good sign. Also, while the ship’s interior smelled plenty damp and musty, she couldn’t pick out anything that smelled especially animalistic, no sign of anything taking up residence in the crew’s absence. Another good sign.

Nuriel sniffed again. Speaking of the crew, she didn’t even smell anything like decaying flesh. Well, maybe fortune was favoring her for once. No angry beasts, and no angry ghosts. Two points in her new home’s favor.

Still, not being able to see much of her surrounding put her ill at ease. This was not the first time she had been forced to sleep in a strange, dark place, and those instances had not always gone well.

Hoping against hope that nothing would disturb her that night, Nuriel went back up the steps and pulled the hatch closed again. Then she carefully felt her way back down until she found a corner next to a post that seemed reasonably dry.

Nuriel eased herself down and stretched out her legs. She shifted her weight around until she found a position that put little pressure on her stomach. Then she closed her eyes.

Nuriel had a number of rituals that she employed whenever she needed to fall asleep quickly. Given the number of uncomfortable places and situations she had gotten herself into over the years, she had gotten quite adept at snatching whatever bits of rest that she could no matter where she was or how much danger she was in.

Counting rats. Yes. Just imagine a ship’s hold, with rats darting from one end to the other. Picture the gentle rocking of the ship, the creaking of the timbers, the clanging of the ship’s bell, and count. One rat, two rats…

She got as far as seven before the darkness took her.

…

Laying a hand on Nuriel’s chest, the native girl gently pushes her back, so that Nuriel is lying flat on her back in the sand. Her ears fill with the sound of the night surf washing against the shore, and far off, the crew is still singing merrily around the bonfire.

Nuriel doesn’t care about any of that. All she can see is the native girl’s dark eyes, like two pools of liquid night, and her smile, her teeth shining bright in the shadows that cover her face. Her curly black hair falls in waves around her bare shoulders, and when she slowly lays her body across Nuriel’s, it spills down onto Nuriel’s chest like a curtain.

Their lips meet, and Nuriel can’t keep herself from groaning out loud.

The native girl sits up again, her legs straddling Nuriel’s hips. Their gazes still locked, the girl calmly reaches up and unwraps her garment from around her middle, loosening it. A casual push, and it drops down in a pile around her waist.

Nuriel inhales sharply.

Still smiling, the girl closes her eyes and lets out a pleased sigh.

When she opens them again, they are now the color of freshly spilled blood and glowing like embers. Her smile widens, exposing knifelike fans.

And when she dips down again, she goes not for Nuriel’s lips, but her neck.

…

Thump.

Nuriel’s eyes snapped open. There was the rush of bewilderment that came from being abruptly wakened, but that was banished from her mind with practiced ease. Within moments the dream was forgotten, sleep was forgotten, she had remembered where she was and why, and was on high alert.

It was now in the dead of night, if the complete darkness surrounding her was any indication. Nuriel took quick stock of herself. Her stomach and ear still ached, but not as badly as they had before. More importantly, she was untouched.

However, she was not alone.

Thump. Skitter.

There was something on the deck. She could hear its claws scratching the wood.

Her right hand started shaking. She quickly covered it with her left and listened. Maybe it was just some tree-dwelling animal that had wandered on board, like another monkey or something like that.

Then she heard a hoarse, cackling cry, a very familiar one at that. Nuriel felt icy fingers of fear slide down her back. The bird was back.

She listened as it walked across the deck, sometimes pausing to claw at the timbers. She was pretty sure that it couldn’t get in, so all she had to do was wait until it left. In time it would realize that hunting her was futile and give up.

And maybe if she wished hard enough she would end up growing wings herself to fly her away.

The bird called out again. It wasn’t the harsh cackle of warning from before, nor was it the screeches of pain as it flew off. This call was shrill and drawn out, clearly some kind of message.

A message that was answered.

Another call responded from further off, and Nuriel heard the sound of flapping wings. Then there was another call, and another, and another. She closed her eyes and mentally recited every profanity that she knew. Not only was the bird back, but it had brought friends.

Soon the air was filled with flapping wings, angry cries, and thumps on the deck above as the birds all came in for a landing. She couldn’t even begin to guess how many there were; she just knew that if they somehow managed to get in then she would be torn apart.

She heard them hopping across the deck and scratching at the hatch. They knew where she was, and they had come for blood.

The scratching grew louder as the birds started to go at the deck itself, and something soft landed on her head. Nuriel jerked, and instinctively covered her hand. More of the stuff fell across her fingers. Sawdust. The birds were looking for weak points in the deck and trying to claw their way through.

Nuriel eased herself up and looked around. There was next to no light to see by, but here and there were tiny cracks and holes in the ship’s hull to let in slivers of moonlight. One hole in particular looked large enough for her to see through. She crept along, one hand feeling her way while the other clutched Saint George, with her heart pounding away the whole time.

She made it to the hole. Kneeling down, she got in close to take a look. Outside, she couldn’t see much other than the moonlit sands sinking into the water. She maneuvered her body around, trying to get a glimpse of the sky.

Suddenly her vision was taken up by a single golden eye, staring through the hole back at her.

Nuriel fell back as the bird screeched in anger. It went to work attacking the hole by jamming its beak through to widen it.

Nuriel stared in horror as the bird aggressively ripped at the decaying hull, sometimes using its beak while other times its talons. Other birds were answered its calls, and she could hear them swooping in to attach themselves to the ship.

Not knowing what else to do, she stabbed Saint George at the dark-feathered talon that was shoving its way into the hole. It immediately withdrew with an angry hiss.

Then Nuriel felt something grab onto Saint George’s blade from the other side. Panicked, she tried to pull him back, but the bird yanked again.

No, no, no, no! This couldn’t happen! She couldn’t end like this, torn apart by a flock of feathered monsters, with her only possession that meant anything to her stolen and defiled.

Nuriel braced her legs against the wall and pushed with all her strength as she pulled back with both arms. She was not going to let Saint George go! Papa had given him to her, Papa had made her promise to take care of him! If she was going to die, it was going to be with Saint George in her hands, blood on his blade, and not carried away to adorn some flying monstrosity’s nest!

She pulled once, twice, and then finally managed to yank him free. She was sent sprawling onto her back as the bird outside screamed in pain and rage.

Dazed, Nuriel lifted Saint George up. Sure enough, there was a streak of dark red on the blade. She had managed to take a piece after all. Well, there was that comfort at least.

Then she giggled. Some comfort. She was moments away from a very gory, very painful end, but hey, at least she still had her knife.

Then, audible even over the birds’ screeching and squawking, a whistle sounded from off in the distance.

A shrill human whistle.

The birds all stopped there clawing and cackling, and for one bewildering moment there was complete silence.

A harsh, guttural sound that was part roar, part snarl, and part scream responded, and Nuriel heard something that was very much like several very large dogs huffing as dozens of feet pounded the sand.

Then the birds began to scream.

Nuriel had no idea what was going on. It sounded like there was a war going on outside, one filled with avian shrieks of rage and pain. The birds were going to war with something apparently, something that equaled them in numbers and savagery. She heard several of the birds’ cackles get suddenly cut off, followed by growls and the sound of ripping flesh and snapping bones.

Then the deck above thumped again as the new somethings leapt on board. Nuriel could hear them scurrying this way and that as they attacked the birds, could see where the beams of moonlight were cut off as their bodies passed over the holes.

How long the fight lasted, she had no idea, but before she knew it the remaining birds had given up. At least the sound of their squawking drew further and further away as they retreated into the night sky.

Above and below, her unlikely rescuers continued to dart this way and that, apparently finishing off any bird too wounded to fly and probably making a meal of their remains. There was a lot of growling, a lot of ripping, and a lot of breaking.

And Nuriel was lying very, very still.

She had no idea exactly what had shown up to drive the birds off, but she wasn’t foolish enough to believe that they were actually on her side. No, it was just some rival pack of animals, one that would be more than happy to rend her apart in the birds’ stead.

However, there was one advantage in her favor, and that was that they didn’t know she was there. So if she stayed very still and prayed to whoever might be listening that they didn’t smell-

The sounds of feasting stopped. And then she heard something sniffing.

Aw fuck.

The boards of the deck creaked as the newcomers walked this way and that, sniffing and snarling. Nuriel held Saint George to her chest with both hands and closed her eyes.

Then whoever it was that had let out that whistle that had sounded off the attack whistled again. In response, the newcomers immediately retreated, leaping off the ship to the sands below and scurrying away.

Oh.

Well.

That happened.

Nuriel was internally debating the pros and cons of unclenching her muscles and quite possibly even moving when something new thumped onto the deck. It stood still for a moment, and then began to walk across it.

Whatever it was, it was lighter of foot than even the birds. Nuriel could barely hear the padding of its footsteps as it made its way from the stern to the…

It stopped next to the hatch.

Nuriel held her breath.

Then with an agonizing creak, the hatch was hauled open, letting moonlight shine into the storage hold.

And then something stepped onto the top step of the stairs.

Though every muscle was tensed up with terror, Nuriel forced herself to at roll slowly onto her side to face whatever it was that was coming down, whether it be the biggest and nastiest bird there was or one of those scaly monsters or a man-sized spider.

It was none of those things.

Nuriel’s gaze drifted from the bottom of the stairs to the top. And standing there, silhouetted against the stars, was a human form.

It was a woman, one with long and wild hair and a ragged dress. Her features were completely shrouded in darkness, but Nuriel could see a pair of shining scarlet eyes, staring directly down at her.

The breath caught in Nuriel’s throat. Her dream returned to her. The red-eyed monster in the jungle was real.

Time seemed to slow and stretch on and on as they two held each other’s gazes, the monster’s calm, burning gaze boring into Nuriel’s terrified eyes.

Then, so suddenly it sent a jolt of surprise down Nuriel’s spine, the red-eyed monster suddenly looked away, up toward the sky.

Nuriel blinked. It took less than a second, just a quick shuttering of her eyes. Nevertheless, the red-eyed monster was right in front of her, but in the space of time it took for her eyelids to briefly pass down and up again, it was gone.

And then the hatch swung closed, seemingly of its own accord.

Nuriel waited in the dark, listening intently. Her ear was throbbing again, as were the cuts on her belly, but she pushed the pain out of her mind and tried to pick out any sign of the red-eyed monster’s movement.

There was none. It was gone.

Nuriel remained where she was, hands clasped around Saint George’s handle and pressing him to her chest, for the rest of the night.

…

When Nuriel’s eyes opened again, she was still lying flat on her back, hands clutching Saint George to her chest, staring right up at the ceiling.

It was daytime. Exactly when, she had no way of really telling, but the sun was up and seeping through the cracks and holes that dotted the Santa Camarilla’s hull.

She had survived the night.

She had made it.

Nuriel slowly closed her eyes and opened them again. Then she let her head fall to the left, so that she was looking toward the hole that the bird had been trying to break through.

Nothing.

So far, so good. Nuriel righted her head, and then let it drop to her right, laying her cheek flat against the wood.

Immediately agony flared up in her ear, bringing tears to her eyes. Nuriel gasped and immediately jerked her head away, relieving the pressure.

Her ear continued to throb. Nuriel lay as still as she could, waiting for the pain to recede into something manageable.

Gradually the fire cooled, but it didn’t die, and that scared Nuriel the most. Pain she could manage, but if anything it was now hurting more than it had the night before.

Infection.

Nuriel shivered. She had seen what an infected wound could do, had seen small cuts turn into ugly, rotting messes that grew and grew, had seen fully grown men be reduced to shivering, delirious wrecks when they got too bad. She had seen many of them die.

Though her chin was trembling, Nuriel closed her eyes and took a moment to compose herself. Then she gingerly rolled around the best she could and pushed herself up.

At the very least, the wounds in her stomach didn’t seem infected. They still ached, but they didn’t burn. Hopefully in time they would heal.

Hopefully.

Careful to not upset anything that might split open, Nuriel limped her way to the stairs. The hatch was closed, so most of it was covered in shadow, but she could make out their shapes at least.

There was something on them.

Nuriel paused. There, sitting on one of the middle steps was a basket. And there was something in the basket. The red-eyed monster must have left it.

Which meant that it had returned while she had been asleep. It had reopened the hatch and left the basket while she had been asleep. Now that was something that she was not comfortable with at all.

Nuriel continued to move slowly forward, now more out of caution than pain. The basket didn’t move, so it probably didn’t contain tiny flesh-eating beetles or giant worms or poisons snakes or something like that, but she was ruling no possibility out. She ascended the first few steps and looked inside.

Fruit. The basket was full of fruit. There were a couple of the yellow fruits she had pilfered from the monkeys, as well as some that were bright red and spiky. There were a couple of small green ones with rough skins, and a several smaller ones that honestly looked like blue grapes. And in the center was something long, fat, and purple.

Nuriel recognized exactly none of it.

What was more, there was a piece of paper lying on top. And on the paper was writing.

Nuriel picked it up and walked over to one of the beams of sunlight that was pouring in through a hole. Her reading skills were rusty due to recent lack of use, though they were fortunately passable. Father had made sure of that.

And the note was simple.

Hello.

Do not be afraid. I am a friend.

#blood island #my writing #original writing #pirates #vampires #dinosaurs

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pevchpits · 3 years

Text

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙡𝙚𝙨 "𝙘𝙝𝙪𝙘𝙠" 𝙝𝙞𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙤. 𝘤𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘯. 𝘩𝘦 /𝘩𝘪𝘮. 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘺. 𝘣𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘹𝘶𝘢𝘭. 𝘦𝘯𝘷𝘪𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘭 𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘳.

❛ I don't worry, don't worry, don't worry about people in my face I hit 'em with the style and grace, and watch their ankles break ❜

𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘴 . 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 . 𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵 . 𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘴 . 𝘮𝘪𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘳 . 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 . 𝘥𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘱𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 . 𝘥𝘰𝘤. 𝘢𝘭𝘭 . 𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘪𝘰 ⤵︎

𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗜 𝗔𝗣𝗣.

〔 ian anthony dale, 40, cis man, he/him ) CHARLES “CHUCK” HIRANO was seen listening to BAD BAD NEWS BY LEON BRIDGES on their way to ENVIRONMENTAL ENGINEERING. CHUCK is known to be CREATIVE & STUBBORN.

𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗧𝗦.

full name: charles hirano nicknames: chuck is his preferred name, charlie can be used on occasion birth date: september 12, 1982 hometown: born in sao paolo, brazil; raised predominantly in vancouver, british columbia, canada ethnicity: european, japanese gender: cis man sexuality: bisexual religion: agnostic occupation: environmental engineering living situation: home owner languages: english, various programming languages, fluent japanese and portuguese, conversational french, spanish, and mandarin ( chuck only has his private tutors to thank ) height: 5 ft 11 in / 1.8034 m tattoo(s)/piercing(s): none. clothing style: chuck, despite swearing that appearances mean nothing to him, likes to dress on the nicer side when he’s not on sight. a nice pair of slacks, button downs, and form fitting sweaters are some of his signature pieces. hobbies: landscaping! not even gardening particularly but landscaping is big for him. building in general ( swing-sets, tree houses, random counter spaces for the kitchen ), anything that involves spending time with his daughter. billards/pool tournaments with friends when he convinces himself he has the time. photography ( especially of his daughter ). he’s played on a few adult recreational league sports teams. reading, predominantly political and/or historical biographies/autobiographies or historical fiction.

𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗜 𝗕𝗜𝗢.

Life was easy growing up: travels, nannies there to pick up the messes he would make, and tutors there to make sure, amongst all the fun, Charles Hirano was still making the grades his parents expected. His life path was set ahead, clearly lined, with no little diversions or side paths left to be traveled. After high-school, it was straight onto one of the various universities his parents had connections to in order to study business or economics, during university he would intern at his parents’ fossil-fuel company, and then when he graduated he would land a gig and climb the ladder. Take his place. Secure the family legacy.

The world may have been at his fingertips, all his for the taking as his father liked to say, but that world was small. Born and raised inside an echo chamber of his parents and their colleagues beliefs that were never challenged in the private school filled with students from families just like his, Chuck thought he had life figured out by the time he first stepped foot on his university’s campus.

His first class, an elective he chose just to fill his required credit load, was an ethics course in urban planning, and by the first week, his entire major and course plan had changed. Ethics courses replaced economics, environmental science courses replaced entrepreneurship, and engineering courses replaced e-commerce.

By the time his parents realized the switch, it was already to late. They had been too busy dealing with their own business by the time he forwarded the graduation ceremony dates, and Chuck had already snagged a job assisting the city planner and city public health commissioner of Huntsville with short-term and long-term projects for the city. It was a humble gig, and certainly not the one his parents wanted him to take, but Chuck was sold.

[ pregnancy tw ] Once in his new home, it didn’t take long for him to flourish both in his role and social life. He was a bright light with something to prove, and that caught the eyes of his superiors, friends, and who would soon become the mother of his beloved daughter. They started as just friends, as she had been dating one of their mutual friends, but one thing led to a next, and when she went through a horrible break-up, it was Chuck’s shoulder she leaned on. He thought he had found the one, even brought up marriage when he finally made enough to save up for a nice right and nice wedding, so it was the least bit alarming when she found out she was pregnant. The two were happy and excited for this next stage of their life. [ tw end ]

With the promise of marriage in the near future, a new baby girl, and a recent promotion to a full-time environmental engineer for the city, Chuck got comfortable. More effort was put on work and making sure he could build a legacy all his own for his family and eventually save up for that big wedding than on the actual relationships he was working so hard for. By the time his daughter was four, enough was enough. She had fallen out of love, and while it was never explicitly stated, Chuck knew he was the only one to blame.

Years past, and he tried harder both for himself and his daughter. He still has his moments where he’ll get too in his head: dinner will be forgotten about, he’ll be late to picking up his daughter from her mother’s, but he cares, and he’s trying and hoping one day it’ll stick.

𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗖𝗔𝗡𝗢𝗡𝗦.

- character inspiration: sandy cohen from the oc, jacob yi from minari

- feels as if he has a lot to prove, which only intensifies whenever someone finds out what his parents did and where he came from

- fell in love with design/landscaping/engineering type of work earlier than college, he just never realized it. he’d spend hours creating his own little worlds with whatever he could find around house: desert palaces in sand, mud huts with their own mini gardens, and mazes of snow tunnels feeding into various areas around the family backyard

- extremely smart but can often lack ‘common sense’ and forgets things quite easily

- can come off as a bit intense in work spaces but is very laid back in his social life. snarky and sarcastic at times ( most of the time ) sure, but especially with his daughter, chuck wants her to be able to explore and make mistakes and learn from them without the weight of “expectations”

𝗪𝗔𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗗 𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗡𝗘𝗖𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡𝗦.

platonic. good pals give him a group of friends! friends that he had through his ex that are now in a bit of a awkward situation but still loving. coworkers ( chuck works for the city so anything govt, engineering, outdoorsy probably has some overlap ), fellow parents! teachers! anyone involved in adult sports teams he might’ve run into ( definitely jack-of-all-trades but master of none in sports, likes it for social aspect and competition ) familial. siblings.... we’d have to work on how they got here, but i imagine he was estranged from most of them. his daughter’s family on her mother’s side! romantic. his ex. maybe one or two dates/flings he’s had to ‘get out there’ since the break-up negative. anyone who might be turned off by his opinionated self! work rivals. anyone angry for how he treated his ex!

#sero.intro #ch. charles hirano — all.#ch. charles hirano — intro.#pregnancy tw

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