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kel-lance · 3 days

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JJK Mafia Au (JJK x Reader) PART 2

Part 1

Warnings:- TW: Dead dove dont read (DDDR) Minors do not interact (MDNI): SA, Physical Assault, DubCon, NonCon, Mindbreak, Public Humiliation, Breeding, Ownership, Gaslighting, Multiple manipulation, RWORD, PTSD, a lot more toxic sh.

Premise: Reader lives in a city where the two biggest gangs keep things line until the third gang showed up. That had nothing to do with you though, until dumb luck just happened to favor you one day. Basically You’re picked up and used by every dangerous criminal within the clans due to some alliances they had to create due to some members messing up the previous alliances. ((Almost everyone’s gonna have a turn 🤗)) ( i have 11 more chapters planned out right now meaning after i write those ill still be writing more.)

“We’re done for today.” The large man reaches for his robes. You don’t bother to move. Just breathing hurt. It was his off day and he was deciding to break you in, deciding to keep you for however long you were durable. He was amused with your reactions. He liked it. He found it interesting how you were also trying to survive. He’d play along as your god now.

You lay in the bed and his finger prints stained your skin, each strike created blots of purple and blue and green. You liked bruises before, it showed how you fought for it.

You apparently woke up two days later, and he lets you rest. Your body finally turns off survival mode for a second, just a second to adjust to the warm room. Four walls, the nice smell, it was just another thing you weren’t used to. Stillness. It was boring. But under these circumstances you were glad to have your own padded room to deal with this.

The time you were left alone, you didn’t know how long that would be. Another hour or so you’d think he’d come back in, hearing as you’re up. Time for more torture, though do torture victims get a bed and tended to? It felt more like you were a sacrifice, meant to appease him, though no one handed you over.

You were brushed, scrubbed raw, and even felt a bit of shame for the way you were living compared to the two ladies who were taking care of you. But you didn’t know how long they’ve been in this line of work. Hell they honestly looked like they were born into it with the cold looks in their eyes. They could care less about your well-being, though they found and scrubbed every inch of you. Of course you didn’t want strangers to look at you, especially after such a moment that brought you here. To be real, these twins are probably the only people who knew you more than anyone you currently knew.

Friends? You had a few, some to help you out sometimes, some to let you crash at their place. It was all fair game to the people you knew. Life was never easy for them and they knew of you being a free spirit. You didn’t leech off of them for you’d always show up with something in exchange, usually something you stole but it would never get traced back, it was either too common (but useful) or just something that would never be brought out of shown off.

You weren’t a bad friend for it, if anything you were the perfect guest, though this time you didn’t mean to give yourself away for a few nights stay.

“I gotta get out of here, but where would I go? These people have already seen my face and I can’t tell how many more there would be. I can’t request anything to learn the layout of this place and no one will talk to me. If I leave I’ll have to run further and faster than I already have been…” You ponder more, sitting at the table placed in front of the window.

They’re smart enough to know what I’d do if I wanted to pick a fight with their lord, of course there are guards at more doors, even under the window out your room, and it’s safe to say that there’s even a guard at each vent that’s connected to your room.

“Why does it seem like I’m so special?” You sit and open the window, the guard below moves from his post to observe you on the same side has the other posted to view you. You look down at then and offer a wave, saying you’re not doing anything stupid, but you just wanted some air. One of them leaves, probably to get Sukuna.

“I bet he’s just a lonely loser and I just happen to fall into his lap, or maybe I was one of many and was the newest. The girls here looked like they could be in the same position as you, though why weren’t they? They didn’t look like they were his blood, and there was no way that he could be their dad. That would make things even worse since you’re close in age as the twins.

You see the guard go back to his post, nonchalantly. “Weirdo.” You thought. Not even a second later your room door whips open. Jumping from your place at the table, you turn and see who other than the man with the unpredictable entrances. “Finally up?” He leans on the door frame. “Honestly, you’re so dramatic for that.” He teased, being strangely familiar to you.

“Dude…” You caught yourself about to tell off this stranger. All you’ve known from him is that he’s having fun taking you and making you a toy, that his name was Sukuna and how everyone seemed under his control. Not that they enjoy it, but it didn’t look like anyone, even in their numbers, would stand up to someone like him.

It still wasn’t apparent for you. He only told you his first name, his last could tell you that you were in even more danger than any “normal” man doing this to you. It could be such a metaphor but you’re literally trapped in the best place you’ve ever been. Was that just life? all the bad comes up when you’re supposed to be happy, and realizing how good you’ve had it as it gets ripped apart in front of you? The balance of it all only comes with ignorance, which was also why you wouldn’t get attached. You didn’t run to one person for everything you didn’t need more than what you’d ask for and that wasn’t much. If they were lucky you’d be there for 3 days at most.

You lost your voice, his presence set in, bringing you out of your (if you can all it that) relaxed state. He notices you tense up, the look in your eyes begging him to give your body a break. He huffs and saunters into the room, taking a seat at the end of the bed, the side that’s facing you. “You had some time to clear your head, now tell me what was your intention. Playing dumb suits that pretty face of yours… But that’s not why I’m here.”

You sure knew nothing about this guy. Other than his name and how his body looked. How he felt was different, it just happened so fast that you could only remember how it lingered in your belly after he left you the second time. It wasn’t something you can forget, those were the best orgasms of your life. “Sukuna… I’m serious.”

“You expect me to believe that? Did I hit you too hard?” You almost wanted to laugh, you saw stars and colors you couldn’t before his knuckles contacted your skull. Lifting his hand from his side to place under his chin made you flinch, a bit too hard for his liking apparently. It took a lot for you to muster standing up on your own, much less realize you had to get to the table by needing support from the wall. It was like you were in an ice skating rink and had to hold onto the walls for dear life, except there was no ice, it was just pain in your body not letting you level yourself out.

“When you’re ready to talk, I might hear you out. My patience is thin you already know.” He stands and closes your door, sent a shiver down your spine. Him not being close to you, or hurting you, having this quick visit was so unsettling.

It haunted you for hours. He didn’t touch you. The edge of the bed where he sat still held an energy, like he left a part of him right there to keep watch over you.

He definitely hit you too hard, you were thinking more outlandish things to go with this scenario. Like why didn’t the touch you? You thought he was going to keep a pattern, that maybe after this he would come in periodically to taunt you. That maybe his patience has worn out and he was going to get rid of you any minute now, or to use you again.

The trauma you got from this certainly messed with your self soothing methods. Every time you catch yourself hitting your peak of your self imposed orgasms, you were almost wishing you had more than just your fingers. You didn’t want him, but seriously its already been 2 weeks. You were gonna go crazy in here. The girls kept bringing you your meals, and a bathroom is attached, though you couldn’t do much by yourself.

You were to let the others feed and bathe you, and you honestly hated it. It was way too weird, you never talked to them, and they never tried with you so it felt like there was an agreement to just not speak about it. That none of you were here willingly. That gave you some insight. Your body healed itself enough that you didn’t need the wall to walk anymore, making your trips to the table in front of the window more frequent.

You notice some sort of schedule Sukuna follows, as well as a few other noticeable men in this kind of gated community. Whatever he has gong on here, it felt like you were almost a stolen princess locked away in a tower or something. “You have GOT TO get a hold of yourself.” You didn’t need to see a doctor or someone, you were fully aware that these thoughts were just you daydreaming to escape reality, yet again. Though this time it was getting boring, you couldn’t help yourself, literally.

At this point you wanted to even ask one of the guards if they wanted to come in and help you out, but you didn’t have to do that, because a day later you decided to act. Rolling around night time, you decided to open your window a noticeable amount. By then the guards usually leave one guard to patrol the grounds in each quarter.

The ones outside your door either end up sleeping or one leaves the other for a bathroom break, some nights they both go, probably to blow each other you thought. It wasn’t any of your concern, they did it before when you could barely move, but now you were agile again, enough to move around without hissing at each moment.

Placing your ear to the door, you heard light snoring through it. “Okay, just find his room you thought. You knew that it took about 60 steps to reach a stair case, then that would be about 24 steps down. You could hear his footsteps through the pairs of others who followed him, as his echoed with pace, and the others almost scuttled behind them like bugs..

You find your way slipping past heavy wooden doors, making sure it wouldn’t creak, you saw the walkway in the garden. You looked up and saw your room, you knew it was yours as it was the only one with the window open. you knew that the guard just left this fourth of his grounds. You were searching the area for his room. Peering through the windows, it would have been hard to tell if it was him, but his tattoos were honestly unique.

None of them were him, you go back to the walkway, going down the opposite end, just blindly working your way through. You couldn’t just walk through any door, it could be your last mistake, it being Sukuna or not. But it just had to be him, you wanted so badly to find his familiar face and just, you don’t know.

You decide to be more ballsy, there’s surely no way he’s be in the same quarters that has this many people,” you decide to take your chance with the left corridor. “I wouldn’t take him for a cuddly guy anyway.”

Listen, you know it sounds crazy, but if you even got to escape, you’d be hunted like a fox, unnecessarily, and as a spectacle for others to watch. But if you could find him, and do it yourself, “I mean, at least I’d die with something, and what a funny way to go.” You loved to joke about these kinds of things. Anytime it seemed dark, you’d find yourself cracking a joke or going off an other tangents from the barrage of thoughts coming your way.

You hold your breath as you set your fingers around the doorknob, you pull it back slowly, and turn it, to silence any squeaks it may have. After turning it fully, you let it go back and unclenched your fingers to let it go a second time, making sure there was no noise from the metal trap, and decided to go in.

What fucking luck you had as if you broke into another room you’d think your breathing would start to give you away. As you head towards the bed, the raising figure laying there was him. Your eyes had adjusted to the dark, so much so that you could just stand in front of him.

Looking down at him you wondered what you should do. You’re not going to kill him, that’s one thing, though you had nothing to lose, you still liked your life and you enjoyed whatever adventurous you got yourself into. It was always just one thing after the next and you’d rest when needed, but you loved it.

This was totally different though. Before it was like you were born into this work and have to abide by its rules. As of right now you could do /anything/. What else would you do?

You look down at him, kneeling at the edge of the bed to face him. Looking at his face like this, completely defenseless, his harsh eyes weren’t poking at you or telling you exactly what he was thinking. No he was just, he looked human. Like if you were to have met him at any other place it would possibly be on a magazine cover or an army recruitment booth posted wherever.

“Damn bastard is beautiful.” You thought. “I didn’t get this far to stop now. Fucking 2 weeks you keep me here and don’t do anything? Do you know how boring that is? You can’t just keep me here and forget.” All that time alone had gone to your head, did you forget how he treated you the time you met?

Tbh it fades in and out, your memory’s cut up pieces of film that randomly plays an old memory, and since you can’t recognize it, you call it a dream.

Nothing could take you away from where you were now. Looking over him, still not a care in the world. Nothing could wake him if he’d allow it. You cocked your head to align your eyes with his, and reach out and brush your fingertips across his jawline.

How much of this could you enjoy before he kills you for breaking out? Just that thought had you slowly leaning in, your hand before tracing his face was leaning onto the bed to support your intrusion.

First, you kissed his forehead. The poor fuck probably hadn’t felt the touch of a real lover in ages, he just finds and uses whatever and whoever he wants, whenever. Of course you didn’t pity him, but does he even know what being loved properly was like? You’re really one to be asking.

You peck the smooth, hot skin, and kissed a line across his cheek, getting more sensual with the next. His touch, even sleeping was still so manly. His body was so, honestly the words seem odd, but he looked so edible. Like you almost couldn’t keep your lips off of him. He was so yummy when you get a good look at him.

Cupping his face, your lips reach his, beginning to lightly stimulate the connection. You lean in further, applying yourself onto him, guiding open his mouth with yours as you lick his lips. This shit was getting you so excited, considering all that he’s done to you, having this moment, where you’re in control and he was at your mercy, and only you know this.

Continuing to make out with your kidnapper, you moved yourself to get on top of him. His lazy reaction of kissing back had you think he was a deep sleeper, god you really wished.

You opened your eyes just to make sure he was still asleep, but his eyes were staring back at you, with the same look he always has. You didn’t have time to even make a sound before he had you under him. His hand grabbed your waist and turned kept you parallel to him as his leg pushed his body to get on top.

You could feel his erection, he was basically stabbing your thighs with his head. His hands pushed your wrists into opposite sides of your head, and he has you immobilized as he sat on your legs. Most you could move was your toes and neck, but he had pressed his face up against yours.

“I don’t even know where to start with you. If you wanted to kill me, you would’ve already. Maybe I can believe you’re just some random, …but you wouldn’t have come to my room.” He lets a wrist go to reel back and strikes your face as a warning. Seriously, no sane person would just come straight back to him in your situation.

“The guard fell asleep?” Nothing gets by him. You can’t tell if he was just prepared for everything or if he planned this out. The excitement you were feeling before was being clashed with the sudden shock to your face. “Depending how the rest of the night will go will determine his punishment.”

Keeping everything in place, he moves your chin up by his nose, giving him space to start attacking your neck. “We’ll just start with yours.” His grasp tightened around each wrist, so much so that he was pulling on the tendons in your forearms, making your fingers involuntary curl.

Your luck may have run out, but you weren’t as scared. Trying to enjoy the moment as much as possible, knowing fully well that you’re about to be eaten alive, and god, youve been waiting. His teeth grazed your collar bone, making their way back up, making themselves a known threat to your neck.

“Speak.” He orders. “Who sent you?”

“You still think I’m a spy?” The spot where he hit you was pounding, but it didn’t hurt. Other parts of your body were just pulsating along with your heartbeat, you knew he was going to take that as a sign of fear.

“Hurry up, we have a meeting tomorrow so I’m trying to be considerate for everyone else.”

He’s still not listening. You weren’t either at this point, finding his roughing up sort of endearing. Maybe he didn’t want to get blood on his bed, or maybe he did care about that stupid meeting. All you could feel was vigorous pulsating from your wrists, your face, your heart, and more than anything else, your pussy.

This was literally what you came here to do, this was why he even took you with him wasn’t it? Seriously whatever big shot he thinks he is… this shit wasn’t legal; You were serious on going out with a bang, raising your hips to create some friction on his hard on.

Sukuna seemed to notice the look in your eyes and gave you another firm slap. “Focus, doll.” He adjusts his hips a few inches too far down your liking, his hands being the only thing touching you.

“Put it back.” You got this far, now he wants to start questioning you immediately after waking up? He picked you up after meeting and ignored you for two weeks, you’re about to do what most others would. Especially if they’re in the same situation with the same circumstances.

“You’re not the one to be giving orders, much less to me.”

You raise your hips back up to his head, having it dip into you, crossing your clit but unable to enter fully. His tip could find its way in no problem, it was just his call, and that almost drove him over the edge. You’ve stopped fighting back, for something like your freedom and what’s better for you.

What you were after now was just one more orgasm brought by that monstrous mf. He doesn’t drop his guard, or change his face at all as he accepted “your bait/distraction”. In this position, you’re still straight legged, laying in his bed as he has you held down, arms pinned, palms up, and legs trapped as he sat on your thighs.

He could easily kill you now, but it would honestly leave a bad taste as no one’s been killed in his room before, much less even entered without permission. You both didn’t know what to think really.

To you he’s some strange and strong asshole who’s been unclear if you were his sex toy or if you were “invited” and he was just being a terrible host. Honestly, it felt worse to you to have everything you needed; Without your freedom, you were honestly thinking it’d be better to be dead.

To him, you were dangerous. You got it all right. From the room, to the person to bump into, to the alley. You could have been a spy laying low, from whichever gang he thought you were from, he thought it would be good to hold you off to send a message to see who would come collect you first. They wouldn’t send someone if they didn’t have something to say.

At first he did just want to keep you until one of them sent them back another message. It didn’t matter what happened to you, honestly he got bored. He’s a busy man, there was really nothing else to say.

So imagine his surprise how you came crawling all over him tonight. He knew an assassin would’ve done it before he even knew the door opened, they were to make sure it was quick. The attack would have had to been fatal, whether they succeed in one shot or have them die as they’re leaving. And how quick they leave is how desperately they want to live.

You, just came in to stare at him and decided you wanted something else. And it didn’t seem like revenge. That was a first, especially for him. Right now he was allowing it, letting you go. There was no way you could harm him, he concluded.

Looking down at you squirm and pout, upset on how close you were to getting what you’ve been aching from and for. He won’t drop his guard, but he sure as hell was silver platter served. Really how badly did you want it?

He connects your wrists at the top of your head with one hand, the other has its index finger and thumb at the base, controlling himself with those two fingers. He raises his erection and knocked it against your clit, the strikes sent waves of pleasure from your core to the top of your head and palm of your feet, having you whimper out.

Your aching hole needed him, it was taking him so long. Seriously you wish he’d kill you now because this so actually torture. The only thing you could do was start to cry, tears leaving their corners and running into your hair. You were more than frustrated. Angry, horny, needy, powerless, you wanted it so bad you were losing control, it didn’t matter, no one else could judge you, and who would be worse than Sukuna?

“You came in here, climb all over me, just to cry now? You’re so pathetic.”

“Please,” You whine. “I want you to put it in.”

His face changed, from laughing at you beg, to sharpening his focus. Even after all this, getting caught, threatened, insulted, you’ve started to beg for it. He takes his legs up from pinning yours, putting them to your sides as he aligns himself to your front hole. “Say it again.”

“Please Sukuna, put it in-“ He lowers his hips and dives deep into you. He watches as your head writhes. Instantly youre spread apart, the sudden plunge casted a warm blush across your face and electricity towards the tips of your fingers. “Oooh,”

“Fuuuuuck.” He finished for you. He continues to grind deeply into you, quickly using his now free hand to gag you from waking everyone up. Good thing too as you were messy, fucked silly couldn’t cover it. You gave up control a long time ago. He wouldn’t kill you, not right now anyway, you especially wouldn’t let him without trying to get one last nut. It was diabolical how down bad he had you. It was more of your unhealed trauma and he just happened to be the best person to help you out, willing or not.

——————————————————————————

You lay there as the base of your back ached. Every part of your body was bruised again, you could only imagine to move again as you tried catching your breath. You had lost count on just how many times he’s forced an orgasm out of you, mind numbingly rich euphoria every time. Nothing else mattered, you were more than thrilled the first 2 times but started to wonder if he ever got tired.

It wasn’t until after your fifth orgasm that he managed to get his first one in. You were honestly almost regretting climbing into his room but his second had him pinning you on your back as he lay on your lower torso and legs. You couldn’t feel anything but your pulsating cervix, half feeling good from the pain and lingering pleasure, the other half making you know that this was a mistake and the nausea was on you.

Raising your free arm, you weakly start to pat his head. It was over, you insatiable perverted needs were fulfilled, so what were you going to do now? It’s not like you’re in love with the guy, you don’t even know if you’ll get to wake up tomorrow with this stunt. “It was worth it.” You thought. Running your fingers thorough his hair, and tracing his back, you fall asleep holding him, accepting that this is it.

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ywpd-translations · 8 months

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Ride 739: The training camp's fourth day!!

Pag 1

1: Training camp of Sohoku High School's racing team...

2: fourth and last day, 10:18 in the morning

3: Here it comes, Rokudai!!

4: Yeah!! Teh, Kinaka-kun

Pag 2

1: The training camp fourth and last day!!

The total distance we've ran so far is....

Pag 3

2: Here we go!!

5: 800km!!

Pag 4

1: We still have 200km to go until we reach 1000km!!

2: Teeh.....!! We've ran so much, teh

3: That's right, we already went beyond what I said at first, the distance from “Aomori”

4: “Aomori”!

It's still 10:30 in the morning, so if we keep going like this we can run the remaining 200km that are required!!

We can!!

Yeah!!

Pag 5

1: My legs are all sore

2: I'm trembling all over, teh

3: The Aomori thing, when we first came here

4: 700km!!

I thought it would be impossible

5: When on the first day, the senpai created such a gap between us, I resigned myself and thought that it really was impossible

6: But then, on that day's evening, you had that idea, Kinaka-kun

8: We worked so hard starting from the morning, we closed the gap, and ran until here

Pag 6

1: Being “buddies” really was our “breakthorugh”, teh!!

2: Breakthrough...!!

3: ??

4: Right!!

Teh...!!

5: Somehow, when I think about seeing the “goal”

6: I feel a surge of power, teh!!

Ohh...

7: Yeah, nice Rokudai, that's good!!

8: We've survived so far, so let's run through the end!!

Pag 7

2: Pfui

Yeah....

Let's do... our best and.... run....

5: Huh, where's my bottle?

Teh

Pag 8

3: Rokudaiii!!

6: Oooooogh

Pag 9

3: Ah....

Kinaka....kun? Huh.... I... fell.... and my bo.... ttle?

4: Rokudaii!!

5: So-sorry

You- you saved me, because you're my “buddy”!!

Pag 10

1: Because I'm your friend

3: Because you're my precious and reliable friend!!

4: Don't fall

Pag 11

1: Don't fall yet!!

2: There's still a chance

3: A small one

4: We can't know until the end of this last day of this training camp

Our

5: target

Pag 12

1: is to go together to the Inter High!!

Yeah!!

Pag 13

2: Ohh, they got back up, those first years

They ran 800km, so I thought their pace would drop for 2 or 3 laps

3: and that they would lose momentum like that

5: There are two ways of winning a road race

Pag 14

1: The first way is enduring determinedly, following without giving up in any situation

2: So that you survive and become the last man standing

4: And the other way is attacking yourself, actively passing and leaving behind your opponents

5: showing your strength and taking the victory....!!

6: They're both “victories”, that doesn't change

But the one who brings you more praises and admiration

Pag 15

1: It's the latter, Issa!!

2: That's right, Danchiku!!

3: First year Omihata, my jersey

Yessir!!

4: The heat resistance training ends here!!

5: Kaburagi-san.... he took off his long-sleeved jersey....!!

That means he's gotten serious!!

6: Let's go with with Full Spec, Danchiku!!

Now that our bodies are ready, we'll definitely do our “human sacrifice”....

Pag 16

1: We'll defeat Sugimoto-san and go to the Inter High!!

Of course, Issa!!

Pag 17

3: Let's catch him, Danchiku!!

4: So you're here

Pag 18

1: You two!!

2: We've come to give back to you that “you allowed us to train with you”!! Sugimoto-san!!

Pag 19

2: Danchiku has already mastered the new bike he's riding, and he doesn't stagger anymore

Thanks to you, he's now in perfect condition!! Perfect!!

3: Yeah

Pag 20

1: I'm just next to you and yet I can feel your pressure enough!!

3: Sugimoto-san, sorry but I'm gonna defeat you in one blow

4: I won't let you beat me in one blow

Pag 21

1: Is that your “expectations”? Or your “hope”?

2: Yeah.... for now

3: I'll also take off my arms warmer!!

4: Sugimoto took off his arms warmer!!

5: If you come at me seriously....

Pag 22

1: It's only polite of me to get serious too!!

Pag 23

3: Sugimoto himself hit their handles!!

Even though usually his play-style is to avoid rough play and contact!!

4: You're in high spirits....!!

5: Not as much as you!! Danchiku!!

Pag 24

1: Honestly, I'm surprised that you're going all out like this.... you're worth defeating!!

2: I'll let you train with me one more time, Danchiku!!

Pag 25

2: Ah crap, they've started already!!

The last battle

3: of the fourth and last day of this training camp!!

4: Danchiku-kun!! Sugimoto-kun!!

Pag 26

1: I'll pull now, teh, Kinaka-kun

Yeah, thank you, Rokudai!!

2: Please....

3: No....

4: I'm beaten....

Even though I've finally... cut the 200km left point...

5: That moment.... I overdid it a little....

6: My legs hurt.....

#yowamushi pedal #yowamushi pedal translations #yowapeda #yowapeda manga #yowamushi pedal manga #yowamushi pedal spoilers #ride 739 #i have so many things to say about this chapter that ill probably use up all the tags LMAO #But the most important one is NAKAROKU!!!! MY PRECIOUS PRECIOUS BOYS YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH THEIR FRIENDHSIP MEANS TO ME #they're so important ;A; i cant believe kinaka really had to spelli it out to roku that theyre friends???#youd think it would be the other way around given kinaka's chara and the fact that he never had any friends and all that #but no! I HELPED YOU BC WE'RE FRIENDS BC YOURE MY PRECIOUS AND RELIABLE FRIENDS #and roku: shocked pikachu face asdshgdkdfg #how did he not realize they're besties PLEASE if he thought theyre just 'buddies' for the training camp #what did he even think of their relationship before these 4 days - kinaka bby you didnt go so out of your way to be nice and good to him #for him to not even realzie youre friends sadsdhfa #im already writing a fic about this because its just that importan OKAY #i dont think i have enough tags to talk about everything sugimoto and danchiku and kaburagi #but lemme say that its so funny to me how everyone is busy fighting and all and meanwhile onoda and naruko are just doing their thing lmao

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squerlly · 2 months

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flames of desire chapter 4: I'm creepy?...

Alastor x (f! bunny reader)

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your POV:

back at the hotel, I went straight to my room, putting all of my clothes that angel bought for me in there drawers and hangers. angel said that there weren't any shoes that work for my paws so he said to try and wear toeless socks....there comfortable but I just have to be carful were I step. walking to the lobby I decided to grab a drink, sitting on the stool "what do you want kid?" "nothing strong" sliding the drink over to me I decide to ask about what happened earlier "hay husk right..." "yeah?" "do you know who valentino is?", setting down the glass he was cleaning he turns "hes an overlord, part of the Vees ...owns a strip club angel works at" well that explains it "what's an overlord?" "you ask to many damn questions kid" "sorry...just asking since I'm still getting used to the permeant damnation thing..." "overlords are powerful demons, ranked by there power over others. humans deal in favors and money, but down here...you deal in souls. and fuckers like radio face abuse that power" radio face? that's new "you mean Alastor? "yeah kid, hes an overlord, haven't you ever seen those posters outside?" now that I think about it, no...I haven't but that would explain his whole dark and twistedness "is that why hes so creepy.." "I'm creepy?...", whipping my head around my heart feels like it just fell out of my ass "oh how you wound me dear, tell me what makes me so creepy hmm..." "well I- no I didn't mean- how long have you been standing there..." "well I heard my name and couldn't help but listen, tell me what is it that has peeked your interest in me?", "w-well husk was telling me about overlords and that you were uhm-...one" "ah yes my dear, husker is correct!, what brought up such a subject?" "oh well... me and angel ran into this Valentino guy and when I asked angel he looked so scared..." "hmm well if he works for valentino, then there's a high chance he made a contract" "contract?" "yes, a contract for his soul~" of course, a contract or a deal for a soul "husk also said something about the Vees who are they?" hearing loud static I look up, Alastors smile was tight and his expression was that of irritation, the static getting louder "oh nobody important..." "oookk..." I'm not gonna pry into that anymore, I like my second life...sorta.

Alastors POV:

so our little bunny got into some trouble with the Vees? and it seems valentino has caught interest in her, I cant have that... "tell me dear what did valentino say to you?" "hmm he asked me if I wanted to work for him, said he could make me rich or something like that" oh Valentino, how does one fine joy in taking advantage of young women, maybe he has an animal fetish or something, for once that makes my skin crawl "and what did you say?" "I told him no naturally, the guy has no boundaries, and from the way he treated angel I don't think I would want to work for somebody like him" hmm smart girl~ "well its good to know your alright!" wouldn't want my toy to be broken before iv played with it first... "i just hope angel is ok" "you need not worry about angel, I'm sure hes doing just fine dear, you shouldn't get involved" especially with the likes of such nasty people like valentino, how dare he attempt to steal my plaything, I guess ill have to show him that I don't like sharing.

your POV:

chatting with Alastor and husk I feel a bit tired, probably had one to many refills of my drink, iv always been a light weight... "its getting a bit late, I think I'm gonna head to bed now" husk takes my half empty glass as I stand from the stool "well goodnight my dear, sweet dreams~..."

I had writers block for like 30min because I just felt like adding a whole extra part for Alastor and it nearly killed me!!! but anyways I love you guys and please enjoy this chapter stay tuned~

-squerlly

@pooplyface1423 @strippezzz

for more stories and more chapters please click this masterlist

#hazbin #alastor x reader #alastor #hazbin alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x reader smut #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel x reader

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powderblueblood · 3 months

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YES, NURSE RATCHED - a hellfire & ice retelling of chapter eight's most pivotal moment, from eddie's pov

a special treat for my love @deadlynightshade-and-hyacinth eddie munson x f!reader, reader is nicknamed lacy, reader's last name is also mentioned, this is lore-filled and handsy so if that's not your thing keep it truckin, minors dni i do not like you go away warning for strong language, smut inthe form of public fingeringgggg, drug usage, extremely bad parenting (al munson klaxon), evoking the feeling of a comedown, billy hargrove gets his shit rocked, excuse all typos it's redacted o'clock and i'm a little buzzed word count: 2.6k

The first thing you should know about the following occurrences is that they are preluded by a whole lot of next thing Eddie knows. Things snapping his attention to the left, to the right, knocking him over the head, rearing up on him with little to no warning.

Number one? His dad showing up at Reefer Rick’s, eyes bloodshot and sleep deprived and frantic, putting on a pantomime of being so psyched to see his boy! Rick snapping to attention and falling into his role of affable associate of Munson Senior immediately, despite the apology he’d tried to press against Eddie right when Al crunched the gravel of his driveway. What followed was a bender that Eddie couldn’t help but give into. Al has that effect on people, even him, even Eddie in his angry, angsty resoluteness that he should know better.

You try knowing better when you're all bewitched, bothered and bewildered and shit.

Cue cut lines and records blaring until daylight broke over Lover's Lake– then Eddie, rising at noon but barely landed from his previous (ill-advised and bad-parentally-supervised) high, got it in his head that he ought to show up for school. At least for a little bit.

Because they’d tossed your last name around a little last night, Al and Rick. Doevski this, Doevski that, in weird, vague terms that Eddie didn’t all the way understand. And the more weed he smoked and the more Jim Beam that got passed around, the less he remembered.

Which, dumb, right?

You’d tell him that was dumb.

You’d tell him he should have stayed sharp, listened up, gathered information.

He passed out on Rick’s sagging couch, mind searing with nothing but thoughts of you nagging him for intel.

Eddie woke up cotton-mouthed with your name on his lips.

He needed to see you.

To catch one of your avoidant, barely-there glances as you flit through the hallway or maybe even spy you smoking a cigarette on the outdoor bleachers, reading in silence with Ronnie or Wheeler.

He’d think of what to say to you in the moment; probably spurned on by the sneer you’d give him– which he’d totally have earned, for having the nerve to ignore you for so long.

Forgive me, he'd say, hands held aloft in Christlike composure, I just couldn't look you in the eye knowing you were getting willingly boinked by some Ivy League sweater monkey.

And then you'd have to admit your little bullshit college boyfriend wasn't Ivy League, and he'd prod you with that for a while, and things would eventually ebb back to whatever shade of normal you two were pretending to be. So? Okay!

But.

Next thing Eddie knows, he’s peeling into the parking lot and the first thing that he sees, bada bing, is you. All however many feet of you, steel true and planted on the hood of Billy Hargrove’s fucking Camaro, wielding a baseball bat like a sword.

Eddie’s heart stops for the full entirety of a what fresh hell is this filter-focused second before he skids the van to a halt and launches himself from it.

He advances this helluva scene just in time to hear you holler out, right in front of God and everyone,

“One thing you can say for Eddie Munson, is at least the motherfucker can get hard!”

Eddie’s tread stutters and he wonders if this is what people mean when they use the expression taken out at the knees. Can he get a fucking encore, please?

But then there’s the issue of the rabies-ridden Hargrove, the kid who’s snorted so much of Eddie’s dubiously cut supply that it’s no wonder that word has gotten around that he can’t keep his johnson rigid. There’s a thread dangling somewhere that makes Eddie wonder how familiar you are with that concept but. Alas. Digression.

Hargrove calls you a cunt, and Eddie’s vision is replaced with a swathe of red.

How ‘bout you try playing it cool, hearing someone talk to your girl like that, after a night of fun family drug-taking?

Wait. His what? Hold on--

Next thing Eddie knows, he’s side-swiping Hargrove like a dirty bumper car, yak yaks something kind of funny (he hopes) and does not turn to look at you standing backlit like a holy fucking statue. Because he knows you’ll look beautiful up there, white hot with rage, holding a weapon poised for minor automotive destruction. He can’t handle beauty, not right now. Because of that thing from before with his knees.

“...now her snooty ass is spreading it for half of Hawkins! Desperate! Stringin’ you along like the dumb piece of shortbus shit you a–”

It’s impossible to say whose hair trigger that tugged first, yours or Eddie’s. That’s like chicken vs egg. That’s like Han vs Greedo. That’s like, irrelevant.

That baseball bat clatters to the pavement, a hearty overture to Eddie’s surge of empowerment, of rage, of insisting that she isn’t, I’m not, she isn’t, I’m not, nobody talks about her like that–

Next thing Eddie knows, he’s sitting beside you. Outside the principal’s office. Hand split open and aching, nose backed up and a little bleeding, coming down like the fucking Hindenberg. Reckoning with the fact that he wouldn’t need to be a little morning-after zipped on coke to throw a punch for you, if it came down to it. If it came down to it, he would have tried caving in Billy Hargrove’s other eye socket. He would have made him look like the Elephant Man if you needed him to.

He liked that Eraserhead movie you made him watch.

“He needs an ice pack…”

The soft mumble from you makes Eddie take this breath that makes his chest feel like it might concave. You, you. Reckless, unbuttoned, unlaced, off-kilter you, that still had time to snap at him after he’d tried to freeze you out, that still had eyes that asked him did it hurt?

Eddie eavesdrops on as much of your grilling with Higgins and the hot guidance counsellor as his damaged eardrums will allow. Temporary insanity. Disgusting prank. He wonders what that’s about… and again, didn’t even think to question what brought you onto the hood of Hargrove’s car. He just saw you. He just acted.

He just keeps doing that.

And then he hears. College. Application deadlines are within touching distance.

“I can turn this around.”

Of course. Eddie hadn’t even thought about that, because he’s him. And it was something you were probably worrying yourself sick over, because you’re you– you wanted out of here. To get up, go, be someone great.

“New York, ideally,” you’d said to him once, tightrope walking across the broken bleachers outside; you’d been waiting around for him to give you a ride home, but he had a deal to make first. You were weirdly patient, weirdly pensive that day. “Someplace I can go and burrow in and absorb everything and grow out of a crack in the sidewalk, new.”

Eddie’d held your hand, helping you step over a gap in the bench, “Not taking Manhattan by storm? Hurricane Lacy?”

You–and he remembered this–had held onto his hand for a few more minutes, a cigarette dwindling in the other. Your fingers were cold; they clutched at his a little tighter when you spoke again.

“No. Not Manhattan, not midtown, not big business. I have precipitated a change in my weathervane.”

“What does that mean?”

“Means that someone taught me the difference between being important and being significant.”

Back in the room. Eddie drawls out some stupid crack to Higgins, who he’s still supplying with enough benzos to take out Jonestown a second time, which is the only reason he hasn’t been booted out of Hawkins High for absolute and final good. And then you’re alone again, the two of you. Together.

“Wanna get out of here?”

Next thing Eddie knows, he’s spending the last of his energy like it’s burning a hole in his pocket, horsing around on the nurse’s saddle stool while you rifle through her office. You are all edgy and commanding because you have no idea how to say sorry you got wailed on by Hargrove for me.

Good. He likes you better like this, at least for right now. Likes to watch you attempt to pirouette on the razor’s edge of your relationship to one another, mostly because your attempt is more graceful and easier to watch than his is. And he likes to watch you. Watch you do anything, really.

Watch you snap at him to get on the bed. Fuck.

Watch you tear and dab at his busted knuckles. Fuckfuck.

Watch you talk about Cat People and press his hand to his chest and tell him he’s injured and wrong and watch you watch searing, singing alcohol on his split lip dry up. Eddie watches your eyes brighten and darken with curious affection, like those twinkle lights that fade in and out, steady as breathing. His breathing is anything but steady. His knees have come apart, letting you stand between them.

You dab and he lets this broken sound loose from him, because the proximity of your body to his feels like a fresh fucking spring breeze and god, god, the way you’re touching him with such gentle, measured movements, like you’ve choreographed every one–

You’re so exact. You’re so organized. He wants to unexact you.

Eddie uses his good hand, not that either of them are really any good, and presses as much of you into him as he can. The flush of your front, the flush of your mouth, he even has to stop those shorn denim-sheathed legs of his from wrapping around your hips. Eddie’s grip, it travels, hitching tweed up the curve of your ass.

You don’t push him away like he figured you might, you don’t indignantly demand what is going on?! You don’t. You weave your hand up the line of his thigh, to the hard edge of his crotch where he is straining, a rigidity that’s been building since you went all Nurse Ratched on him.

A rigidity that’s hard to keep down around you, badum-tsssss.

Fuck.

Eddie almost knocks the word loose with a low groan that’s pressed into the supple flesh of your cheek, your lovely blushing fucking cheek, a cheek he goes to kiss or bite or something but misses by a hair because you’re straining your neck back. To look at him. Not soberly, he hopes.

Someone down there is wishing him death by dick.

Not the wettest, wildest, filthiest dreams that he’s had about you (and categorically, there have been many) could have prepared Eddie Munson from the earth-shattering consequences of this tiny gesture. Your tongue, perfect and pink, darts to his lip, stinging and sore and comes away with the tiniest drop of ruby-red blood sitting on its tip.

And you suck his bottom lip between yours, eyes fluttering closed.

Eddie’s cock jumps as his heart does, not a second out of time, as you clamber up, into his lap– so completely un-Lacylike, so totally… unexact. How, in all the vastness of Heaven and earth and Middle Earth and Hell and the Bookstore and the closet and his bedroom and the van could he be so fucking stupid?

“Just friends, right?” Eddie is deaf to how pained it comes out sounding.

His good hand travels. He finds your thighs, the softness there giving way to easy indents for his fingers and he knows, he knows that this is where his hands should be–unless, higher could be good? Higher, high up past those offending, incriminating lace top stockings that drilled through Eddie’s mind like an ice pick, giving him whatever the opposite of a lobotomy is. Haunting him with a fervour, begging him to snap them, but there’s no fucking time for that, god it hurts but there’s no fucking time for that because you. Two. Are. In. The fucking. Nurse’s. Office.

But the world has ceased turning.

Eddie’s mouth opens in a silent attempt at a moan as his fingers push past to the beating, radiating core of you that the throbbing, radiating core of him longs for.

You’re so wet, and soft and lush and it rings through is head like a fucking hallelujah, you’re wet, you’re wet for him.

More than anything, he needs your encouragement–he needs to know that you want him to keep going. That you want him, that you want him, that–

You nod, frantic and undone, and Eddie kisses you for it just before he realizes he has no idea what he’s doing. But nothing in his body tells him to zoom out–in fact, the only thing he wants is more in. More you, more of you wrapped around him. He moves his hands with a clumsiness usually uncharacteristic of him, fucking guitar guy, fucking painting miniatures and shit guy. But it works, according to you and the way you keen against him with your beautiful, spit-shining lips parted and pulling against his.

These little noises, chirps and swallowed moans of yours– it’s like music. He wants to choke on them.

Eddie’s voice kind of cracks open again, letting a little air and a touch of begging out. He strains, pained, cock aching against the hitch of denim. “Does he do this? Does anyone do this for you, Lacy?”

Because you’re lonely, and Eddie knows that, with his fingers stroking you deep. You’re lonely, or would be, were it not for him. And it feels like now, in the heady swirl of these few moments that are stretched into an infinity, that he’s using it against you, but he’s not. He should be the one doing this for you, he should be the one making you feel this way, making you tremble even as he clumsily thumbs at your clit, because he thinks knows you and he thinks you want it unmeasured and unshackled and washing over you in a wave of sheer blind devotion and that’s why his tongue is all over your neck.

That’s why his knuckles are split.

That’s why there’s no malice in Eddie’s voice when he croaks, “Just friends? Lacy?” as you rock and spasm, hands clutching him around the shoulder and whimpers barely deadened against his lips. He can feel the texture of your pinched brow against his own.

He wants to clutch you as close as he possibly can, but he’s got one good arm and it’s between your legs.

Between your legs. Jesus fucking Christ.

Sobriety hits like a tidal wave as your breath returns to its normal rhythm; Eddie’s doesn’t quite have the same rebound. He’s still huffing a little, out of exertion or out of nerves, as he slips his hand out from under you, brushing what was off on his jeans. A small patch of his own bodily fluid collected there too, making sure he’s wearing the both of you like Hester Prynne’s scarlet letter as he walks around for the rest of the day.

Eddie, throat starting to tighten up, pulls you in for one kiss, to give you one last taste of where he’d been split open for you. Melodrama dances around it; shades of we shouldn’t have, but we did, but we can’t, but now I have to fucking live with the fact I cracked open this Pandora’s box and I’m sorry.

Or something to that effect.

And you see right through him, because you always do. Hair in a muss, lips flushed, adjusting your skirt, re-exacting yourself, you clean up any evidence that this had ever happened. At least, on a surface level.

Eddie dares to look at you once more, and you dare to look back at him. And thank god he’s sitting down, because that look shoots him right through the fucking aorta. You, wide-eyed and small-looking, pupils darting and unsure, are asking him why. Pleading with him, why. Why do this. Why now. Why at all, ever, why did you have to. Even though you know.

“I–”

“No, I know. I know. I certainly know.”

Because you’re Lacy. You know everything.

Eddie does think about going after you for a second, after your curt nod and dash through the door but he knows that it’s a zero-sum game. He has nothing good to say. It’s not even you that’s rendered him speechless– funny thing, you usually do the opposite. You always give him something to say. He just has nothing good to say. Nothing worthy of you.

So he sits there, on the examination table, waiting for the mythical Nurse Lydia to tend to his wounds.

First he’ll will himself soft, then he’ll will himself sane.

Famous last words.

#published by powder #e. munson by powder #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x oc #eddie munson fic #blurbs #edlacy #hai brainrot #this actually helped me crack a little thing i've been stuck on in chap 9 so thank you for that!!!#Spotify #l. doevski by powder

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stelladess · 2 months

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EDIT: I only now found there are more complete translations of the new lorebook, that may alter things here quite a bit depending on if it touches on relevant stuff. Ill probably write a more easy to follow and updated version of this post when I got less schoolwork anyway so yeah. Arknights Theory: The nature of the Lord of Fiends powers and the purpose of the black crown. IDK how to spoiler and non of what I find onlines helps with that so just know... spoilers ahead. I also wanna say that I havnt double checked a lot of this stuff, I did for some of it but id like to re-read a bunch of this when some of the CN only stuff has come to global anyway. So take with a grain of salt is all im saying that I remember right since I dont remember exactly where to find all of this info, altough I will mentioned where I thought I got it from for various evidence. So tl;dr here is that I think Amiya´s powers is actually about manipulating originium, the memory, emotion and energy blasts (also making a sword) is all extensions of that and NOT fully distinct powers like some believe, also the Lord of Fiends has to have oripathy. Also the black crown was made by Priestess to eventually facilitate her resurrection and the reason doctor convinced Theresa to transfer her powers to Amiya was part of that plan. Now, why do I think all this? Starting on Amiya´s powers. While dialogue indicates some skilled casters *can* learn multiple types of arts, Amiya is not a skilled caster. She is very powerful but not particularily skilled at it. Her powers are ALL derived from the originium arts her oripathy and Lord of Fiends nature grants her. She also had all these powers pretty much from moment 1 it seems so it seems unlikely she learned it trough practice to do many different things. So its likely one ability that is just very broad in its usage, similarily to how Rosmontis´s powers work (if I remember right Kal´tsit even says their powers are very similar in nature). Amiya can do energy blasts, view memories and sense emotions... according to Kal´tsit in chapter 7 the way sarkaz prophecies work is basically that thoughts are stored in originium allowing other sarkaz to tap into the memories in that originium to calculate a likely outcome with multiple people´s brains. So originium can store thoughts/minds. And by extension memory would be a part of that. There is also clearly stuff relating to the dead but ive heard several CN server events have gone into that more so I dont wanna speak about anything regarding dead souls until that comes to global because I do not wanna go reading very complicated lore stuff in a language I dont understand really, so ill adjust or drop this theory as nescesary based on future information of course. So, then the emotions and memory stuff is covered, making the sword is also simple, its just made of originium. So the energy blasts? Well the main way originium is used is as a power source and its required to cast arts for those without oripathy (who have originium inside them to channel arts anyway). Another piece of evidence here is that Manfred could disrupt Amiya´s arts with his own, which seem to revolve around detonating or manipulating the energy in originium, allowing him to harm Amiya when she tried to gather up energy from nearby originium. When she pushes herself extra hard she probably draws extra power from the originium in her own body, which is why it has such a negative effect on her physically even compared to other casters. This, and a bit from the new lorebook revealing the first Lord of Fiends was the first person with Oripathy, is why I think the Lord of Fiends HAS to have Oripathy.

So, with that established, why do I think the Black Crown is meant to resurrect Priestess? First of all, the Black Crown or Civilight Etherna, is tech from the advanced precursor civilization (it was not found by them but invented by them, its directly referenced as a different project to the AMa projects, which is part of what Kal´tsit is refered to by certain beings in the know about the previous civilization, the crown also resembles Mon3tr in appearance). Its stated in Amiya´s module that its purpose is to store information, memories and emotion. And we know for a fact that they were capable of brain uploading, as seen with Friston in Lonetrail. Its original purpose was as a historical record, but that doesnt mean it cant have been altered later. Priestess is stated by Friston to have created Originium, something we will likely learn more about in the Victoria arc on account of certain reveals in chapter 13. Since Originium is so closely linked to the crown, by virtue of the first infected being the first Lord of Fiends, originium was clearly created in relation to something to do with the Crown. And well.. when Priestess put the doctor into the sarcophagus she said they would be reunited and their love would outlast the stars. Despite her seeming convinced she would die.... Kal´tsit seems to have been either created or turned into what she is now by Priestess too, or well by their people at least. But for dramatic convenience I think Priestess makes the most sense. I think the crown getting linked to the sarkaz collective unconcious/dead souls (this is the part im most uncertain about because there is so little info on this on global especially) was NEVER part of the plan. Since it seems likely the previous civilization created the ancients (animal people) to drive the sarkaz away (and also be slave labour, this isnt like 100% confirmed but there is some hints for this) I suspect they saw the sarkaz as lower beings and had never considered the crown would link up with them. So I think the original purpose was that some sort of great calamity fell upon their people, Priestess tried to store her mind in the Black Crown in some process that led to the creation of Originium and because the first person to down the crown was a sarkaz made her unable to do what she originally intended, possessing a later wearer of the crown and reunite with the doctor. This part is of course pure speculation as well with very little evidence, but it does line up somewhat. And I think some of the concept trailers supports the idea the crown can let someone store their mind to take over a later host (altough not with Priestess specifically).

So, fast forward to Amiya... she was born in Rim Billiton a normal cautus girl, her family were miners and lived on a normal landship in Rim Billiton... but one day disaster struck and the ship got destroyed in a horrible disaster. This is all gone into more in To the Grinning Valley but was already implied beforehand. To the Grinning Valley is also interesting for several reasons to this theory, they explicitly call attention to how strange it is that the doctor would bring Amiya with them after finding her in the wreckage. Saving her is in line with their behavior, but why bring her along? Its common in Rim Billiton for miners to adopt other children. Why not leave here somewhere? Why bring her with them to Babel? And this isnt just Amiya wondering or an outside observer, we find out from Savage that Kal´tsit doesnt know why the doctor did what they did. And whats more, Kal´tsit believes the doctor convinced Theresa to transfer her powers to Amiya, and since no previous Lord of Fiends had done so directly, the crown picked a successor, I think the doctor also taught Theresa how she could directly move it, circumventing the dead souls of the sarkaz will being imposed on the crown´s choices. So, why Amiya? Kal´tsit either doesnt have any idea why or just didnt want to tell Savage, but it is clear that she NEVER agreed with the decision. We have some ideas why Theresa did it, Amiya not being a sarkaz would mean she would be less strongly influenced by the dead souls and the lords of kazdel would refuse to follow her. Or at least chapter 12 and 13 heavily implies this was her motive. But why did the doctor want that? In To the Grinning Valley the question of if the doctor always intended to use Amiya for that from the start and grew to care about her over time, or if they took her in with no ill intentions and then got the idea later out of desperation, is raised but left unanswered because the doctor cant remember, and no one else knows why.

I believe the doctor also wished to undermine the crown´s link to the sarkaz, and that the plan was to use Amiya as a vessel for resurrecting Priestess. And it is an interesting topic, its often brought up how much even pre amnesia doctor cared about Amiya... but in To the Grinning Valley we focus a bit on the insecurity and uncertainty Amiya and Savage have about *why*. Savage telling an anecdote about a friend who went bad after fame got to their head and admitting she doesnt know which is worse, if the doctor did love Amiya and their circumstances made them so willing to trample over what they loved that they would force the black crown on her, or if the doctor had always been intending to just use Amiya for that purpose. And Amiya admitting she never knew why doc would care for her so much. And here is an interesting thing... in anything post victoria arc, we have NEVER seen Amiya and the doctor interact so far. Amiya is in Arturia´s oprec but otherwise she hasnt been on screen post victoria arc. To the Grinning Valley is set before it. The doctor has been doing all manner of things all over Terra in that time period, but Amiya isnt there with them, she is still with Rhodes Island is clear though. So... does Amiya and the doctor still have a good relationship post Victoria arc? Doc clearly cares for Amiya still, when Rosmontis talks about missing Amiya in Lonetrail (she had been away for some weeks or months, unclear) doc agrees that they miss her too, but they dont really go into any detail and are talking about both Amiya and Logos. Depending on what we learn in the later chapters of the Victoria arc, I could see Amiya feeling rather betrayed by the doctor. Not to the point of completely cutting them out but that it might still make her a bit more distant to them. I think it would be interesting to see how Amiya would take it if she learned that the doctor had originally intended to use her for very selfish end goals. Surely the thought has crossed her mind and she just isnt willing to entertain it, but if she learns something in the climax of the Victoria arc that shakes her absolute confidence in the doctor? That could be a pretty big deal. We already know Amiya has a habit of rather then accepting people wronged her first try to look for excuses. What Theresa did to her Amiya refuses to admit is wrong even when directly pointed out to her how messed up it was (chapter 8 Rosmontis compares what Theresa did to Amiya with what Loken did to her). She isntead focuses on how she must be failing to live up to Theresa´s expectations, an idea NO ONE tried to put into her head as far as we can tell. Altough it is a little unclear because she gets VERY defensive about it when the Damazti Cluster suggests she was forced into her role at Rhodes and given too heavy responsibilities to carry. Will she do this this time as well? Look for excuses why what doctor did was "justified"? But in chapter 13 she also finds meaning in rejecting the legacy of the black crown and that she will use its powers purely for her own ideals and not worry about what its purpose is. With that in mind how would that color her perception of finding out an even older purpose for it that implicates the pre amnesia doctor?

#arknights #amiya arknights #doctor arknights #arknights priestess #theory #this bnuy really needs therapy #civilight etherna

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robotnik-mun · 5 months

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Once again, it is time for that rare moment where I talk about Deltarune instead of Sonic stuff. And today, I've decided to talk about one of the many mysteries of the setting.

Namely... what did Asgore DO?

One of the constants kept over from Undertale in Deltarune was the sad reality that Asgore is still divorced from Toriel, and their post-divorce relationship is... less than ideal, with Asgore desperately trying to get back into Toriel's good graces and Toriel being none-too-thrilled about it. And its pretty clear that whatever happened in the divorce, it's taken a pretty bad toll on Asgore. It's implied he doesn't have visitation rights, and no longer lives in the same house as Tori, instead living in his flower shop. And his present state of living is just... almost too depressing for words.

So yeah, things are not looking great for ol' Asgore. But that does beg the question- what happened THIS time? Recall that in Undertale, Toriel's hostility to Asgore was predicated on both him murdering six children as well as basically getting everyone's hopes up for who-knows-how-long rather than taking one soul and going straight to business after escaping the Underground. How justified she is is going to be the subject of endless debate, now and forever, but at the core of things in Undertale its pretty clear that this hostility comes from some VERY grim circumstances.

Given the more comparatively mundane nature of Hometown and the Light World, its pretty clear that whatever circumstances led to Toriel and Asgore divorcing couldn't be anywhere near as horrible as what happened in Undertale. There's no fantastic circumstance here- Monsters live on the surface as humans do (that we know of), and while Asgore is not exactly held in high regard by Hometown these days, he none the less leads a free, if somewhat depressing life.

So again, what happened here? Why is it that Asgore is still divorced?

As it stands, with everything else, we only got two chapters to go by, and as such we need to work with a LOT of contextual clues to try and piece together even a vague idea of how things reached this point.

And believe it or not, one the key bits of insight we have? Is none other than Rudy Holiday.

Rudy is established as having been friends with Toriel and Asgore in college, and is all but stated to have been Asgore's best man at their wedding, and even in the present is still close to the both of them even though they are no longer together. Out of all the people we talk to in Hometown, Rudy is the one with the most positive stuff to say about Asgore, and Asgore recipricates this by visiting Rudy in the hospital daily, with new flowers for each visit. And while we don't witness it for ourselves, it is revealed that Toriel ALSO visits Rudy and is implicitly close to him as well, with Rudy even suspecting that Kris' visit was done at Toriel's prompting (and sadly probably WOULD be if we weren't using them as a meat-puppet).

This might not seem like such a big deal, but I feel it reveals something very crucial about what might have happened, if only in the abstract. It tells me that whatever happened? While it was serious enough to prompt the divorce and cause Toriel to no longer love Asgore, it WASN'T bad enough that Rudy doesn't think ill of Asgore, or enough to cause Toriel to no longer wish to associate with Asgore or Rudy with her. He bears no malice to anyone in the Dreemurr family, and this is an important detail, because it would seem extremely improbable that things between the three of them would be this hunky-dory if Asgore really did do something legitimately terrible.

Which, admittedly, isn't impossible... but it does feel unlikely, under the circumstances we presently see.

Given the way Dark Worlds reflect something of Lightners, some have suggested that maybe the Card Kingdom just as easily reflects something of Kris as it does Susie. While King mirrors Susie's earlier statements, one cannot help but notice that King is an enormous, pseudo-mammalian king with a hefty build, almost like a warped mirror of Asgore. And that comparison becomes all the more concerning when you consider how, as we go on, its revealed that Kris was once a very mischievous little kid... one can imagine that, perhaps, Kris was very much like Lancer, once upon a time. And if that's the case, then maybe it’s not a coincidence that King threatened both Lancer AND Kris directly.

It's a tempting thought... and oh, the warped implications it would carry, given that in Chapter Two its revealed that King wasn't going to go through with his threat and actually CARES about Lancer, despite earlier evidence to the contrary? Now THAT would imply some ugly-ass things about Kris' thoughts and feelings about their father. Or Susie's, if you believe the Card Kingdom is primarily 'meant' for her. It does make an eerie amount of sense, does it not?

Only... not quite. It’s tempting to think Asgore might have done something to Kris in a moment of weakness, but honestly? I really, really doubt it. Because let's face it, if Asgore had hurt or done something out line with Kris? It's incredibly doubtful that Toriel would ever allow Kris to get anywhere NEAR Asgore, and Rudy likewise would probably have little to do with Asgore over something like that. Oh, sure, friends will stick with friends, but that feels like something not even Rudy could overlook. And then there's the whole 'Eggs-Husband' incident...

... God that was painful. Like, kudos to Toby Fox, I don't think I've EVER felt that kind of secondhand embarrassment from a piece of media ever. It really was just a masterpiece of utter and complete failure. Still, it's important in helping to frame where everyone stands in this divorce, because while Toriel does try to get away from Asgore as fast as possible after his disastrous attempt at punnery (and who could blame her?), she none the less is willing to hear him out when he wants to talk about Asriel's return (possibly about the divorce itself).

It's important to note that, again, context is key here. Earlier in Chapter 1 its established that Asgore keeps sending Toriel flowers, which inevitably wind up in the trash, and likewise she rebuffs his deeply ill-conceived attempt to re-connect with her at Sans' store. But from what we see so far, it may not necessarily be that Toriel hates Asgore, so much that he refuses to get a clue about where they stand and persists in these self-sabotaging attempts to curry her favor. While the problem might be rooted in whatever happened in the past, it’s pretty clear that a BIG part of that is due to Asgore's present behavior. How do we know this? Because she still hears him out when he ISN'T trying to get into her good graces.

I feel that if Asgore had done something to Kris, or done something REALLY bad? Then he wouldn't even get that much. As it stands we don't know enough to say for sure, and all we can do is look at how people act and try and come up with some idea of things, but I'm willing to bet that while Asgore made some kind of serious misstep? He didn't do something unforgivable... just something severe enough that it would justify Toriel leaving him, with his refusal to let go simply making things that much worse over time given that its clear Tori CAN be civil with him. He just makes it difficult due to his overbearing and embarassing behavior... again, we can only infer things, but I do feel like a large part of Toriel's hostility stems from Asgore's inability to back off more than anything else, even the events that caused the divorce.

I can of course, be wrong, about all of this. We have only two chapters and nothing else to go by. But there is one last piece of this puzzle that I think offers an even better insight into why things happened as they happened- the reveal that Asgore used to be the chief of Homedown's police department, and that he was made to step down under unknown circumstances, hence why Undyne, a rookie, is now Hometown's police chief. We don't know what happened yet, but whatever did happen? Kris doesn't like to read about it, keeping Us from seeing what happened. It could be because they don't want us prying into their family's business just in general, but there's also a really good chance that it may be simple guilt that keeps them from reading the rest of that article.

And from here, we can paint a pretty compelling picture of what may have happened. As we know, Dess Holiday, Rudy's oldest daughter and Asriel's childhood best friend, went missing under mysterious circumstances. Dess' mother is mayor of Hometown, and its strongly hinted that whatever happened, DEss is now trapped somewhere in the Dark World (or worse), and other hints seem to indicate that Kris might in fact be aware of this, and its hinted that this event may have occurred near the mysterious bunker in the forest that Kris is explicitly afraid of. More interestingly, schoolmates Snowy and Monster Kid seem to be aware of this fact as well, which brings some interesting implications of itself.

Either way, with these details we can imagine a very probable chain of events for how things went down- Kris and Dess did something or the other at the Bunker, which led to Dess possibly being whisked away to the Dark World. Asgore, as police chief, is tasked with finding Dess. His inability to find Dess leads to him being fired by her mother, the mayor, and this would probably lead to the personal troubles at home that would lead to him eventually being divorced from Toriel and living on his own. This seems to be the general consensus among fan-interpretations, and honestly? It seems pretty probable that this, or something like this, is how the divorce went down... and maybe why Kris is the way Kris is, in the present.

There is however an interesting little wrinkle in this formula, though out of everything I mentioned, this one is possibly the longest shot. Earlier in the game when we explore Asgore's store, we find a very terse note from his landlord telling him point blank that he has a month to pay the rent, even suggesting he start selling the flowers rather than giving them away. All that we know about this landlord is that their first initial is "C". So, where does the long shot come in? There is a possibility that "C" is none other than Mayor Holiday, Rudy's wife and Dess' mother, and previously Asgore's boss. What evidence do we have to suggest this? Mayor Holiday is described as being very good at her job while also not being great with people, and is evidently very driven and intimidating, so much so that Noelle is actively afraid of her. The way the note is written is not very formal, nor is it very sociable either... and there are more than a few Christmas related terms that start with "C". A lot of the fandom seems to have settled on "Carol".

Again, this could be a long shot, one built entirely by conjecture. But if this "C" is indeed mayor holiday? That's where the wrinkle comes in. Because if Mayor Holiday is willing to give Asgore a business and overlook past failures to pay the rent, then it may be that his leaving the force wasn't JUST because of his failing to find Dess... or rather, if Mayor Holiday had any part of it, it actually wasn't out of personal anger at him failing to find her daughter. If "C" is Mayor Holiday, then in this context it means that whatever (probably negative) feelings she has towards Asgore, they're not enough to stop her from trying to help him get back on his feet. You might argue that if she IS involved in his flower shop venture it might be more due to Rudy than her, but then if Rudy has this much sway over her, she wouldn't have fired Asgore for not being able to find Dess.

Granted, there's always the 'Dying Wish' factor, though we don't know how long Rudy's been sick...

But still- firing someone for a personal reason would be a VERY bad breach of ethics, and from what we've seen (or haven't) of the mayor so far is that whatever her personality flaws, she isn't actually corrupt or anything. Hometown is so peaceful and orderly that the police force isn't really regarded as necessary! Quite the accomplishment... and firing Asgore for personally failing her would be the kind of conflict of interest that could jeopardize those accomplishments, understandable as it might be in this instance.

So, what would this imply for Asgore and his leaving the force? I believe that while Dess vanishing was the catalyst for everything, it wasn't the direct cause of Asgore losing everything. I imagine that failing to find Dess for an undetermined amount of time weighed heavily on Asgore, given that this is his best friend's daughter, a daughter who is the best friend of Asriel at that.

My hypothesis, as such? Is that Asgore's failing to find Dess slowly ate away at him, and that this caused things at home to get tense, before his eventual desperation led him to do something he shouldn't have, thus leading to him being removed from the force, and leading to further troubles at home, culminating in him saying or doing SOMETHING that led Toriel to divorce him.

I don't have any authority to definitively suggest what it might have been. But I DO feel confident that if Dess' disappearance had anything to do with Asgore's dismissal from the force? It wasn't as simple as the mayor being angry with him and removing him due to that anger, but because of something Asgore himself did in reaction to his own failure at finding Dess, and that this in turn led to whatever would happen to cause his divorce from Toriel. I believe this, because while Asgore has fallen on very hard times, the worst of what he's going through is due to his own poor choices that we can see, and however pitiful his current state, he isn't alienated/exiled from the people in his life. And if he had done something REALLY bad? I don't think that would be the case.

Of course, I can be wrong. Heck, I probably am. We only got two games to go by, and as such virtually everything I say is ultimately just conjecture, some a bit more supported by game text, and some less. But whatever the reality is? I'm VERY confident that Asgore didn't do anything evil... but it was still enough to cost him everything. Given the themes going on in the light world, it'd make sense that rather than anything big or dramatic, the truth just turned out to be something simple, unglamorous, and quietly sad.

Just like in real life, a lot of the time.

#Deltarune #Asgore Dreemurr #Dess Holiday #Kris Dreemurr #Mayor Holiday #Rudy Holiday #Toriel

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p1nkshield · 10 months

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welcome weary traveler you’ve made it to chapter eight! It’s been a long time since I’ve updated, sorry!

Jason was very okay with being a zombie. It was what he joked about when things got overwhelming. He now had a new specific descriptor and a support system he never knew existed. I was strange. The level of self reliance he was used to was now no longer needed. If he were to fall ill he wouldn’t be met with confusion at his vitals or being treated like a case unheard of prior. It was comforting to have someone say, “that’s totally normal, it happened to me”. This would lose a bit of its luster as Jason phased through the kitchen floor with a yelp for the fifth time in ten minutes.

Danny grabbed onto his arm and pulled to no avail.

“Try to fly up instead just accepting your fate.”

Jason was too busy clawing at the floor like a cat being dragged to a bath to heed his advice. This was also to no avail as his arms swished through the floor like it was mist and he fell completely.

Tim was having a very entertaining morning. Watching idly as his older brother’s legs dangled and flailed from the ceiling of the bat cave made his coffee much more enjoyable. He had made a bet with Cass on how many times Jason would fall through before he got used to his newfound abilities. Cass had more faith in him than he did saying that he would fall under 200 times.

FWUMP

By the way things were looking Tim would not have to fight the condiment king for a whole month!

Jason was getting tired feeling like every step was a gamble. Danny was little help. The most he did was graciously build a barrier so that he wouldn’t fall into the mantle of the earth. Witnessing the feat was bewildering. He was scampering about the bat cave picking things up, asking “do you use this?” And then promptly dropping or tearing apart the tech based on the answer. He haphazardly squeezed together a projector-like device and turned it on, producing a neon green grid.

“What is that?” Jason asked as he tested this mesh with his foot.

Danny jumped onto the grid, displaying its bounciness.

“Baby proofing!” Danny joked

“As you develop your powers you’re not going to be able to fully regulate your intangibility. So until you’re phase trained this will help you from sinking into the ground.”

Was Jason going to sink into the ground? Phase training? Jason was getting a bit worried… it was probably fine.

THWUMP

Just as soon as Jason got up the stairs and got his lunch together he fell again. Green was starting to tinge the edge of his vision.

“That’s 15 times today! Start prepping your anti ketchup wash kit!”

Tim was keeping count? They bet on how many times he would fall?! Jason was starting to seethe.

“Jason! Try to think solid thoughts if your feeling yourself slipping!” Danny said, sticking his head through the floor.

Not helpful. Jason did not respond. He was very tired of falling. The first time had been a shock to everyone but Danny. They had all been eating dinner together, a small miracle, and Jason just fell out of his chair. He made a sound comparable to a perfectly cut scream as he was in one room then clipped into the next.

Right now the only thing Jason could do was think of that and breathe in an effort to calm himself down.

Tim took a tentative step back. “You okay?”

Jason thought the answer was quite obvious and simply glared in Tim’s direction.

Danny flew down from the kitchen and procured a glass of ectoplasm from the tanks and placed it into Jason’s hands.

“Drink.”

Jason drank and was immediately was full of much less rage than before. Great. He needed baby proofing and now got hangry like a toddler. Just great. At least he could see the humor in Tim’s bet now.

“Your wager.”

Tim was still tentative about the situation. “…Yeah?”

Jason downed the rest of the ectoplasm

“I want in. I bet less than 50.”

@skulld3mort-1fan @addie-lover-of-stories @ivymala07 @nottmuchtopost @stargazer-luna a @icecweme @dontfightmecauseillcry @seraphinedemort @tinybrie @kyrianclawraith @spoopyspoony @joyfulcollectordreamland @luffyrose @nixthenerd @darkstarsapocalypse @lemccr @busterkeel @britcision @inthereellife @vythika96 @chrysanthemum9484 @blankliferain @sara0055 @pike-s @xye-chan @blackroselina @malice-of-the-sunrise @gin2212 @meira-3919 @undead-essence @onlyhereforthechaos @charcoalstainedbones @ectoradiation @persephoneblackrose @farmercale @claudiashq @boo-ghosties @56thingsinaname @insomniaxonline @thefanficcup @terzatheunderscorerima @wolfeyedwitch

Lmk if you don’t want to be tagged anymore!

#dp x dc fic #At the Core fic #jason todd #danny phantom #pit rage

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analogwriting · 2 months

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Star-Crossed

Chapter 11: Szív

Donquixote Rosinante x gn!reader word count: 3.2k next

Your father's estate was right outside of town. He preferred to be away from the city, enjoying the peaceful country life. You also enjoyed the countryside - having grown up there and all, but with being on call constantly, you needed to live close to the hospital. Not ideal, but necessary.

All different kinds of scenarios began to run through your mind. What could your father possibly want right now? Did he hear about last night? You couldn't imagine why he would have. As far as you knew, he didn't keep tabs on you. He knew you could hold your own. That impending doom feeling was growing stronger as you feared your father's estate. Pops’ warning playing in your mind again. Maybe he was on to something. Maybe he was trying to tell you something.

You took a deep breath. Maybe you were just overthinking things like you always did. Marco was right in that aspect. You always blew things out of proportion because your brain didn't know how to just stop.

Another thought popped into your head; what if he’s fallen ill? Maybe he’s called you to his estate to say his goodbyes or ask you to take care of him. You probably would, he is your father after all and you loved him. You’d want his last days to be as comfortable as possible.

What the hell were you even thinking?

Your father still had plenty of years on him. You were sure he was going to be just fine - he was fairly healthy for his age. He came to your hospital about twice a year for a check up anyway and he always did just fine. He always listened to your medical advice, so he was in picture perfect health.

You needed to just calm down. One deep breath later, your mind relaxed a little. You need to just take things as they come. You were probably worrying about nothing. Perhaps he just forgot to mention something to you. The two of you couldn’t exactly talk on the phone as lines were never safe. It was safer for you to just meet him somewhere and talk in person.

It wasn’t long before you pulled up to his large estate. It was a large, gated mansion with many rooms. Acres of well maintained land, a guest house, a pool, just about everything you’d imagine for your typical mafia family. Or as the public knew him, a politician. Besides, this place had been in your family for generations at this point. It was all old money.

You entered through the gates, heading down the long driveway, parking in the rounded end by the doors. You stepped out of the car, heading up the steps. The two positioned at the doorway stopped you. “State your name and business you have.”

You looked at them with an expression that said you couldn’t be bothered right now. “C’mon, Daniel, you know who I am. Stop playing around.” You tried to walk past him but he stuck out his arm. “State your name and business you have.” He said again, more firm this time. You just stared at him in disbelief. What the hell was he on right now?

You looked at the other man with him. “You’re really just gonna let him treat me like this, Gabriel?”

The man didn’t even look at you, just kept looking forward in his position. This wasn’t like them at all. They usually greeted you with smiles and asked how things went. You grew up with these men, they were pretty much like your uncles. They helped raise you. Now they were acting all cold and distant. Once more Pops’ warning sat in the back of your mind. You knew you were going to need to go and get some answers.

“What the fuck is going on?” You glared at both of them. “Just let me see papi.”

“Name and business.”

“I swear to fuck, I will kick your ass.” You glared at Daniel who stared right back at you. Whatever was going on, you weren’t a fan of it. You don’t know why they were testing you right now because they both knew damn well you could take them both on with no sweat.

“I’m going to have to ask you to-” You grabbed Daniel’s arm, turning around and using your entire body to throw the man over your shoulder. Gabriel moved to grab you, only to miss as you sidestepped, kicking him in the back. Both men tumbled down the stairs and you threw open the door and marched inside. You didn’t fucking have time for this. You were already irritated because you were in the middle of a very important discussion and now they were testing your patience.

What in the everliving fuck was that about?

You walked down the long hallway, towards your father’s study. You were just assuming that’s where he was. He spent most of his time there anyway. You grabbed the handle of the double doors, flinging them open. Your father was at his desk that faced the door, a large window displaying his vast landscape behind it. There was also a girl who looked to be about seventeen. Maybe eighteen.

“What the hell is wrong with Gabe and Danny?”

Your father looked up, his eyes widened in surprise. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m assuming you took them out?”

“Papi, why the hell would I kill them? I just threw ‘em around.” You shrugged, folding your arms as the doors closed behind you. “Now, what did you need to see me for?”

Your father looked at you for a long moment. Immediately, you felt uneasy. There was something about the look in his eye. It was cold, calculated. Not at all like the warmness in which he usually looked at you. The girl next to him was also looking at you in a way you didn’t really care for - like she was up to no good. There was a smug look on her face and you wanted to punch her. She also just had one of those faces that your fists ached to connect with.

Again, Pops’ words rang in your head - his ominous warning to be careful.

“Sorry, I was just thinking how to start this conversation,” your father said, leaning back in his chair as he looked at you. He shook his head. “Ripping off the bandaid is probably the best way. You’ve always preferred things like that.” You nodded. He wasn’t wrong. You liked to get to the point, you didn’t like pussyfooting around the subject.

“Y/n,” he said and immediately you knew something bad was about to happen. Your father never called you by your name, not even when you were being scolded. He has never really called you by your name, it was always some nickname in his native tongue. Just as you never really called him ‘dad’ in english. It honestly made you feel like crawling out of your skin - it felt wrong.

“This is your sister, Trinity.” He gestured to the girl next to him, who offered a small wave with a smug smile. Immediately, your eyes widened and you froze. Sister? Since fucking when? When the hell did your father meet someone? Or did he just take someone in? You had no idea.

“Sister? Papi, when did you ever have another kid?” You folded your arms, still trying to process things. Why the hell would he have another kid without telling you? Why would he have another kid in general? Did he have another wife after your mother?

Your father stood up, sighing. “When you started going off to college and started pulling away, I decided to set up a plan b. I needed another child to take over the family just in case you ended up completely cutting yourself off.” He walked over to the window looking out at the landscape.

“I found a woman and paid her to carry my child, giving her to me when she was born. She’s been here the whole time, but I never let you meet her. I knew you wouldn’t approve of me having another child in this life. Or, at least you’d tried to take them with you. I know how much you hate kids being involved in all this. I wasn’t going to let you take away my plan b.”

You were stunned. He had a child just because you didn’t want to take over the business? He was talking about her like she was an object, not his child. Was she okay with all of this? She looked content with his decision. You still couldn’t believe he kept all this from you.

“When you made the decision to part ways, I really began to train Trinity. Sure, she’s not naturally gifted for this lifestyle like you were, but with time and practice, I know she’ll do great.” He turned to look at you. The way he looked at you sent shivers down your spine. This was not the man you knew.

“I no longer need you anymore. You wanted to be cut off, you’re being cut off. You’re no longer a part of this family. You already took that bastard’s last name. You’re no longer any child of mine. You are of no use to me.” He looked at you with utter disgust and it hurt more than any bullet wound ever had. “All that time - wasted. I showed you love and affection and what did it get me? Nothing but an ungrateful child. How am I to secure my legacy if I don’t have a child?” He shook his head.

You were speechless. Tears stung your eyes and you felt like your entire world was falling apart. He was just using you? “But…what about mamma?”

“What about her? I married her specifically to sire me a child to raise and train. Lot good it did me.” He shook his head, clicking his tongue. “She was weak. She constantly talked of how she didn’t want you in this life, how she just wanted you to grow up however you wanted, but your only purpose was to take over the family. Nothing else.”

Every sentence was a wound in your heart. You felt sick.

“You inherited your mother’s weak heart, which is a shame considering you inherited my skills. You were perfect for this lifestyle. You were cold, heartless, good at everything. You were a natural. My golden child. You were going to do so well. Then, you just decided to be a doctor and ‘help people instead’. You made a complete 180 and I’m still not sure what happened to make you do that.” His tone mocked you at the end.

The world began to spin around you. He never loved you or your mother? He only saw you as tools for his grand scheme of things. “Why…? Why call me here to tell me that? You could’ve never told me any of this.” Hearing him talk about your mother in such a way…you knew he loved her. You saw the love they shared when you were younger. You had always wanted the same kind of unconditional love. Was…it also all a lie?

He looked at you with disdain, rolling his eyes. “I’m taking your hospital.”

Your blood ran ice cold. “What?” Your father raised his eyebrows. “You heard me. I’m taking your hospital.” He walked over to you and you couldn’t move, frozen from the moment he started dropping verbal bombs on you.

“The original plan was to let you do your thing, then have you join again. I thought this whole neutral thing was a phase. Your hospital has quite the reputation. It’s in a perfect place, it’s already got the underground kind of vibe we need. It’s perfect for what I need.” He stopped in front of you, looking down at you with a sly grin.

“You really thought I’d just let you leave the family without something in return?”

“I won’t let you take the hospital,” you said softly, slowly. Your father barked out a laugh, making you flinch as his voice bounced off the walls of the large room. “You don’t have a choice. Besides, Doflamingo and Sir Crocodile have already taken it over.”

Your stomach sank to your feet. “What?” Your voice was barely above a whisper. “Since when-?”

“When do I work with them? Since we realized how much more we can control together.” He chuckled, shaking his head. Your father never came off as the power hungry type, what was going on? “Doflamingo noticed his little brother had come back and had taken a liking to my child. We thought you two were going to try and pull one over on us. Take us down.”

“That’s not-”

“Oh, I know.” A dark chuckle came from him. “Even if I wasn’t able to get you to take over the business, you were still loyal to me. I know you wouldn’t have betrayed me in such a manner, no matter what that Donquixote boy said. I suppose at least I had that if nothing else.” He shook his head, putting his hands on his hips.

“We decided to work together to take over your hospital, make it ours. You crafted the perfect hospital for me. A place where law enforcement turns a blind eye. It will be our neutral ground. So, thanks for that. I suppose you did provide some use in the end. It’ll be easier to cover certain things up with a hospital under our reign.”

A sly grin spread across his face. “I suppose the olive branch I extended all those years ago did work out in the end. Just took a little time.”

You backed away. You needed to get back to your hospital. You needed to keep people safe.

“Oh, they’re already there, y/n. As we speak, Doflamingo and Crocodile are working on…new management. Your little buddy Marco will probably need a new job. Since you crafted this perfect oasis for us, I decided to spare all your little employees. They will all be let go, however. They are loyal to you, I’m sure. Don’t trust ‘em.” He paused, looking at you from the corner of his eye. “I wonder how the little reunion between Doflamingo and Rosinante will go?”

Once again, you felt your stomach drop. You stumbled backwards, vision blurring with tears. Everything you had worked so hard to achieve, gone in an instant. How did this man that showered you in love and affection all your life do this to you? How did you not see it even once?

“I’m sure you can find another job. You have an outstanding resume. Or, you know, you can keep your job. All your friends can keep theirs. You would just have to work for me. Rejoin the family.”

You stared at your father with bewilderment and disbelief. Nothing felt real and everything hurt. Everything you knew had all been a lie - a part of your father’s plan. Did Pops know about this? Is that why he gave you that warning? Is this what their falling out was about? You had so many questions, but your head started to hurt the more you thought about it.

“You can think about it. Not long. Probably from here until you get to the hospital to sign it over. Doflamingo has already gathered up all your little cronies that know about the true part of the hospital. I think he mentioned that he was surprised to see his little brother there too. I’m sure that reunion is going swimmingly.”

Your eyes widened and fear set in. Innocent people were being thrown into all this. Marco was never a part of this life. Corazon had removed himself from it. They weren’t a part of this - so why bother them! This was all your fault. You were stupid and naive to think you could leave with no strings attached.

You just looked at your father - no. He was no longer your father. The only father you had now was Pops. You didn’t know the man before you. This man was a stranger to you.

You were ripped out of your thoughts as his phone rang. He pulled it out of his front pocket, looking at the screen. “Speak of the devil,” he said. He answered it, putting it on speaker. “Go for Anthony.”

“Are you almost done? Are they on their way? Everyone is getting so squirmy. Hey - stop moving! I will shoot you.”

“Doflamingo, don’t do that or we lose our leverage.”

All the air left your lungs. You couldn’t breathe. Leverage? Who all did they have? All just to get you to sign over the hospital?

“They’re with me now. You’re on speaker. I think they were just about to head your way.”

“Oh, are they there? Well, y/n, can you hurry the hell up? I don’t have all damn day!”

“Y/n!” Corazon was there? Fucking, dammit all. They must’ve shown up just as you left. You had been hoping he left, but that bastard did mention Doflamingo seeing him. “Don’t do it! It’s a t-”

There was a gunshot and multiple cries. “Corazon!” You heard the boys all crying for him and you couldn’t move. The world around you went still.

“You were already on thin fucking ice for leaving and lying, you should’ve known better.” He clicked his tongue. “You better hurry up or he’ll bleed out.” With that, Doflamingo hung up.

Your entire body went numb and everything went still. You heard the man before you talking, but you couldn’t hear him. Corazon had been shot by his own brother. At this point, you wouldn’t be surprised if your bastard of a father would do the same. What was up with these men and being unable to just…have loyalty to their own family?

No, no. Now wasn’t the time to start freaking out. You needed a plan. The first thing you needed to do was get to Corazon. Then you could deal with everything else. Unfortunately for everyone else, you were good at working under pressure.

You turned on your heel, feeling rage slowly building up in your chest. You knew you couldn’t let it consume you. You needed to keep a clear head if you were going to do this successfully without anyone getting hurt.

You reeled your arm back, turning back around, and punching your dad square in the jaw, sending him reeling back. Trinity pulled out a gun, pointing at you and you glared at her. “Do it, coward.” Then she did, but her aim was off, as you could see in the first place. The bullet flew right past your head but it did graze your cheek. You didn’t care, the fear in her eyes was enough for you. It was clear she saw the difference between you and her now.

You turned on your heel once more, running down the hallways. You could already hear multiple footsteps heading down the hallway. You burst through the doors and the two standing guard tried to tackle you, but you were too agile and quick. You easily dodged them. “Getting old!” you shouted, hopping in your car and taking off. If they had a lick of smarts, they would’ve sabotaged your car somehow, but they didn’t.

You peeled off, speeding back to your hospital. It was a race against time.

#hopefully this reads okay #it was so dialogue heavy that im like hhhhHHHHH #anyway #anyone who loved the dad how you feeling now???#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x you #donquixote rosinante x reader #donquixote rosinante #donquixote corazon #corazon x you #rosinante corazon #corazon x reader #corazon #rosinante x reader #rosinante #am fics #sc

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honey-olive · 2 months

Text

Chapter 142

a rant~

This chapter gave us a gut wrenching set-up

We get Myrtle and Sixtus having a small moment together which talks bunches about their relationship. They really love each other. Myrtle is able to be vulnerable with him. And Sixtus listens and wants what’s best for his big bro. Sixtus tries to cheer him up, and when Myrtle has doubts, he makes sure to bring back hope.

Look at how hopeful Myrtle’s face looks!

And everything to be just taken away from him the moment he sees his own father gift what he needed most to another. Give what he needed to their actual child. Like the last nail in the coffin sealing his fate. Showing him his not as important. That he was never meant to belong.

(Also, side note, I agree with what @winterlogysblog shared in this post. I think King had either already tried using the drug of Yore on Myrtle, or he knows it won’t work. Myrtle does not have an illness, it is because he is reacting to the air in the fairy realm that he gets all these symptoms. Taking it won’t change his situation.)

Also Tioreh being so scared that if Nasiens is her biological brother that will somehow replace Myrtle. It is so sad. Specially considering Tioreh is very young. What has she seen? Fairy child is brought back, human child is taken out. If they take in Nasiens, then it seems logical for her parents to throw Myrtle away. (Sweet girl got me crying with her too)

And finally concerning King and Diane as parents… I’d just say it’s complex. They should have probably discussed many things with Myrtle before, but at the same time,I try to understand them. People were already whispering about the relatedness between them and Myrtle. Myrtle already felt so alienated. They probably didn’t want to exacerbate any of those feelings. But they will be facing the consequences, all at once. I feel we’re in for a whole lot of family drama.

#and i’m so here for it #I really hope that at the end things do get better ❤️‍🩹#cause Myrtle IS Kiane’s child #I hope he is able to understand that #he doesn’t need any external validation for it #4kota rant #manga #mokushiroku no yon kishi #mnyk #seven deadly sins sequel #four knights of the apocalypse #Myrtle #Sixtus #tioreh #Nasiens #king harlequin #4kota

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ouroboros-hideout · 16 days

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WIP WHENEVER

@chevvy-yates tagged me for this. Thank you a lot 💚

This will be a huge wall of text aswell, since I am not really of the „visual“ side of creating atm.

Writing // Worldbuilding

I'm still writing the next two chapters for my fanfiction, but would rather briefly introduce my other OCs here (yes, Aon isn´t the only one by now). Maybe I can create all of them ingame at some point, depending on how stupid I´ll act with modding etc. when I start. Since things can change quickly in the story while I'm writing, I wouldn't say that everything is 100% set in stone, a lot of it isn't finished yet. But it's a good base. Most of them appear in my „Like Napalm“ fic. Some of them will be in my main GARMR fic aswell. So prepare for half backed character data entries and some rambling.

Gan

Gan Tomobataar, or Iron as he is usually called, is a mysterious man. Many stories surround the Mongolian giant and it always depends on who asks him whether he affirms or denies these tales. It is therefore uncertain which of them are true or fictional and he really enjoys keeping his past in the dark. He is said to have served in an elite military unit. The metal teeth that earned him his iconic nickname are said to have been lost in numerous boxing matches as he tried to turn pro to make a better life for himself and his family, and he is allegedly a descendant of Ginghis Khan (which is probably one of his favorite rumors). One can assume that his closest confidants have more clarity, but none of them would dare say a word about it. Undeniably true is that he has two brothers, of whom he is the second-born. Together with them, he leads one of the largest nomadic clans in eastern Europe and Asia. The Tomobataar nomads are divided into three large families, each led by one of the three brothers. Iron's family stays mainly in Mongolia and Russia, but he would also travel to more distant parts of the Soviet Union for profitable contracts. He doesn't have many vices, but one of them is definitely greed.

By sheer luck, at least that's what he claimed, he picked up Aon on the street when she was trying to flee Moscow on her own. He promised to protect her from the Secret Police and other bounty hunters if she proved to be a useful member of his clan. However, his methods for testing her worth would put the young woman to the test.

Yakov

Yakov always had problems finding his place in the world. He grew up in St. Petersburg, studying or an education other than working in his father's car repair shop were never an option financially, but the young man always yearned for something greater than being stuck in the alleys and streets of his childhood. He decided to join the military when he was old enough, but was discharged immediately after basic training for insubordination and general unsuitability. What remained for him was to work in his father's garage until he died after a long illness. Yakov tried to keep the store running on his own for a while, but he found it difficult to do good business without proper management and eventually had to sell the store. This was followed by a relatively dark period. He saw himself as a failure, was unable to find a new job and drank away the money he had received for the workshop in the bars in his neighborhood. One evening, a man came into his local pub. His car had broken down outside, he wouldn't get any further that night and kept him company for a few hours. The next day, Yakov repaired his car for the man called Gan and left the town with him to live with the Tomobataar nomads.

Gregori

Gregori's mother, a singer from New York, came to the Russian capital for a gig and met a military officer there. The two got together and the result was little Greg. Shortly afterwards, however, the couple fell apart and she took her son back to America, where he spent most of his childhood and youth being raised by babysitters and nannies, while the singer preferred to spend her time on tour or in the recording studio. Gregori at least inherited much of her creativity, starting to make music himself at an early age and drawing a lot. Just what small children do when they need to keep themselves busy.

When he was 16 years old, his mother died of an overdose. As she never bothered to write down a testament or anything similar, her entire fortune goes to her greedy manager, who leaves Gregori penniless.

The boy, who has spent his whole life sheltered without much contact with the outside world, is left with nothing and doesn't know exactly what to do. So he scrapes together the last of his money and buys a ticket to Moscow, where he tries to find his father, but in vain. He quickly goes off the rails, barely speaks a word of Russian, is recruited by a gang and gets exploited. An arms deal with a group of nomads goes wrong, a shootout ensues and Gegori is the only one left of the gang because he hides instead of fighting. Yakov, who was on the other side of the deal, takes pity on him and eventually takes him to his new family where he tries to find his place within the group.

Anna

Anna grew up with the Tomobataar nomads from an early age. Her parents were killed in a botched mission when she was just four years old. Iron, who in a way blamed himself for this, took on a guardianship for her and looked after the little girl like the apple of his eye. As the years passed and Anna grew older, the relationship between her and her foster father changed. He became increasingly demanding, punished misbehavior and put the still young girl under pressure. Aon, who had already earned her place in the clan by this time, could not tolerate this behavior as she herself had grown up under similar circumstances. No one else in the clan interfered with Iron's "parenting methods", which is why she ended up doing it. Anna and Aon then became inseparable and she naturally followed her later when they left the clan along with many others.

Anatoly

Anatoly, or Tolik as Aon calls him, belongs to the Russian working class in Moscow and cannot claim to own much. As a boy, he dreamed of studying mechanical engineering in order to open his own workshop or business. A dream that his father would never have been able to afford in this life. So after school, Tolik started working at his father's scrap yard on the outskirts of Moscow, not an easy job. He regularly drives into the city to pick up old components and scrap metal from SovOil and other big corporations, where he meets Alyona one day. The two strike up a conversation, exchange banter and hit it off straight away, which over time develops into a teenage love story. Aon spends a lot of time with him at the scrapyard, where she can test and improve her skills on old machines and has a place to hide from her hated stepfather. He, in return, benefits from the knowledge she brings with her from university, and his dream of building his own big thing soon becomes her dream too. Together they consider leaving the city at some point and make plans for the future

unnamed_chromed_up_terrifying_SovOil_Secret_Police_agent

Yea well, I don't know yet how to call him. After Aon has fled Moscow, the officers of the normal police force give up the search for her, as it theoretically no longer falls within their area of responsibility. However, since Kristof claims that Aon stole the data he wanted to sell to Petrochem, SovOil is naturally very interested in finding her and the data chip. So they send a Secret Police agent after her, who, together with a small unit, tries to track her down. He actually already had a kind of "Easter Egg" appearance in my other AU. He would have been the agent sitting next to Kurt if he hadn't switched the cards on the table. Funny how differently things can go. Anyway, he doesn't really have much of a backstory other than he used to work for the KGB and is a bloodthirsty hound dog who chases Aon halfway across the country (spoiler: and finds her). If I were to compare him to another character from movies etc, he would probably have the closest vibe to Hans Landa from Inglourious Basterds. The character was very well written, even though I would probably make my namesless_pig a bit younger than him. But since he'll be pumped full of cyberware anyway, it probably doesn't matter much in the end. It's just supposed to be a fucking horrible character and Aon's nightmare.

Robert Walker

Robert is one of the key-characters in my main fanfiction. I haven't thought about him in depth yet, but the general concept is there. He's a British journalist and photographer who wanted to go high by exposing wrongdoings in society. For him, there is nothing more exciting than achieving "fame and notoriety" as a whistleblower. He's not necessarily stupid or doesn't know what he's doing, he's just unlucky. He gets into trouble with the wrong people and upsets the even worse ones, which is why he has to flee the UK and ends up in NC. There he tries to start over and stay out of trouble. However, he soon develops an "unhealthy" obsession with Kurt Hansen. He is incredibly fascinated by him and spends every free minute in Dogtown so that he can perhaps take a photo (or two, or ten) of his idol. At some point, he goes so far as to seek direct contact and wants to interview him. Kurt is flattered at first, but has little desire to reveal information about himself in some strange blog or gossip magazine. But that didn't stop Robert from continuing to stalk him and even trying to become a member of Barghest. At some point, Hansen got too pissed off and gave him the choice of leaving Dogtown or catching a bullet. Robbie chose the second option. After all, he hadn't forbid him to camp outside the gates of Dogtown, had he?

Technically I could tell something about Aon´s mom and her stepfather too, but I don´t have that much yet. So will keep em for the next WIP together with the other OCs for my main fic. There will be three more. A general, a corpo guy and the last is still up for discussion with my brain. Considering somekind of warlord or a netrunner.

Art

I tried to do something different than a full rendered piece of artwork. I am not yet confinced that I like it. I like, that it was finished really fast lmao but...I dunno.

Aon and Tolik - 2055

But happy that Aon is actually recognizable in the end. During the process she looked so much like So Mi at a point that my brain went: WHO ARE YOU GIRL. But I like the long hair. Will give it back to her in her 2078+ appearance. Not exactly like this, but longer than her normal style.

Not quite sure about Anatoly tho. I mean, he looks like this in my head, but I will reconsidere if he will get some cyberarms. He is poor like a mouse, so probably can´t afford expensive tech like this, but he feels kind of „empty“ without anything.

Congrats and huge thanks if you read this far. Brainrot stronk!

Tagging some ppl aswell. Everyone else is invited too to show off some awesome stuff ofc, no pressure as always!

@blackrevell @olath124 @cyberholic77 @cybervesna @pinkyjulien @theviridianbunny @therealnightcity @wanderingaldecaldo @miss--river @barghestapologist @kdval @streetkid-named-desire @aggravateddurian @androgymess

#wip whenever #worldbuilding #writing stuff #art stuff #oc stuff

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toppersjeep · 8 months

Text

Chapter 2- All For Love Charles Leclerc

Link to Masterlist

Elena’s POV

“Wake up” Daniel said. “No” I said throwing a blanket over my head. “I did make you coffee also isn’t your Netflix thing today” Daniel said. “Yeah probably” I said. “Thought we promised never again” he said. “Yeah we both said that and here we are” I said.

“We can’t keep doing this” he said sitting on the couch next to me. “Yeah I know” I said sitting up. “You know I love you but” he said looking at me. “But what” I said getting up and grabbing my pants. “I can’t keep pretending that I’m okay with this” Daniel said.

“The whole hooking up thing and staying friends” I said putting my clothes back on. “Yeah that I can’t do it anymore” Daniel said. “Okay” I said. “Elena sometimes it’s hard for me to look at you and this” he said I sat down beside him.

“This what Daniel” I said. “Elena I broke up with you because you wanted someone else I know you don’t wanna admit it” Daniel said. “Danny I didn’t say I did” I said looking at him. “You don’t think I see the way you look at him” Daniel said.

“You used to look at me that way and then all the sudden it was Charles” Daniel said. “Why are we having this conversation again” I said. “Elena I love you but I can’t keep this up you are just doing this because..you can’t have him” Daniel said. “I gotta go.. I’ll see you at the track” I said.

“Elena” Daniel tried to say but I was already out the door. And of course April was outside our apartment with George she just had this disgusted look on her face. “April” I said but she stormed off. “Bad move el” George said.

“I know George thanks” I said. “She’s really pissed off” George said. “Okay so is Daniel I can’t deal with this bull shit” I said.

I showered and changed and then headed to the track in Monaco. I parked by car by Charles. Who had just gotten out of his car.

“The Mercedes driver doesn’t own a Mercedes” Charles said with a funny face. “I own many cars Charles” I said. “But you chose to drive the mustang lord” Charles said I playfully pushed him. “Piss off” I said. “Ooo you are filming for Netflix today huh mon chéri” Charles said putting an arm around me.

“Yes now I gotta go or I’m gonna be late dummy” I said running away. “Your shoes untied by the way” he yelled. “Ugh” I said stopping to tie my shoe. Then I was greeted by Roscoe. “Look Roscoe your favorite” Lewis said. “Roscoe my buddy” I said hugging him. He gave me a big kiss.

“I missed you little buddy did you get more handsome” I said petting him. “He definitely did” Lewis said. “Okay I gotta run ros ill snuggle you later” I said.

I then went into the filming room and sat on the chair. A lot of people were staring at me.

(Blue bold will be DTS(Drive to Survive) Narration By El)

“Oh introduce myself” I said smiling at the camera. “Yes whenever you’re ready Elena” the producer said. “Hi I’m Elena Verstappen and I’m a car model” I said everyone laughed.

“Okay just kidding I’m Elena Verstappen and I drive for the Mercedes Amg formula one team” I said. “And well it’s pretty great” I said smiling.

“So can we ask about your relationship with Daniel Ricciardo” the producer asked. “Ahh Daniel I knew you guys wanted the gossip” I said. “Daniel and I dated for about 3 years” I said. “Uhh yeah and that’s that” I said. “The age gap didn’t bother you” they asked. “No it didn’t we were in love you know it sight matter what everyone else thought” I said. “Were in love” the producer asked.

“I’ll always love Daniel he was my first real love” I said. “And I’m thankful for the memories with him” i said. “But now I’m focused on becoming a world champion”I said with a smile.

____

After filming I went out to find Charles. We were supposed to meet for lunch before everyone saw the new cars for this season.

“Lando have you seen Char” I asked walking over to him. “Yeah he’s over by the Ferrari paddock outside” Lando said. “Thank you Lando” I said running away. I went over to the Ferrari paddock. Charles was outside talking to Carlos.

“Ahh there she is” Charles said. “Hey losers” I said. “Loser oh please” Carlos said I hugged him. “Oh shush you missed me” I said he smiled. “Sure not like I saw you last night” Carlos said. “How’s your mom doing” Charles asked.

“Good she’s been feeling better” I said. “You’ll have to take me to see her when she’s feeling up to it” Charles said. “I will she misses you” I said. “So lunch then” Charles said. “Yes” I said.

Charles and I grabbed food and sat at a little picnic table. We caught up on a couple things while we waited. It was nice to have him to talk to. He was one of the few people here who actually treated me equally.

“So are you and Charlotte doing good” I said. He hesitated. “Ummm.. we broke up I ended it” Charles said. “Oh I’m sorry” I said. “It’s alright El it wasn’t working plus there’s” he said then stopped himself. “What char” I said.

“It doesn’t matter El” Charles said. “Oh it’s a secret then” I said. “Ummm you know I should be heading over to the paddock” Charles said. “Alright I’ll see you” I said he hugged me quickly.

“Mmmh see you later” Charles said. “That was interesting” Addie said. “What about it Addie” I said. “Do you not see the way he looks at you” Addie said. “He’s my best friend we’ve been best friends for years” I said.

“Friends sure keep telling yourself that.. you still wear that necklace he gave you years ago” Addie said. “It was a birthday present” I said. “Friends don’t give friends things like that” Addie said. “Addie” I said. “Shoot look at the time I gotta go deal with your brother” Addie said.

“What Lando” I said as he stared at me. “Oh ummm don’t know but she’s right” Lando said.

#fanfic #lando norris #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #charles lecrelc #formual one #lewis hamilton #george russell #daniel riccardo x reader #daniel ricciardo #charles leclerc x reader #love #my ocs <3 #f1 imagine #red bull f1 #charles leclerc smut #lando x reader #pato o'ward

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we-were-so-beautiful · 4 months

Text

4. shower

wow look it's another chapter!!! like... not that long after the last one, even! honestly I had the first 3 sections of this basically entirely written not long after finishing the last one, but eventually I decided I should probably do literally anything else for a while (hyperfocus is a real dick lol), and so I'm just now getting back to it. I thought this was gonna be on the shorter side, but it's about the same as the last one, around 1.3k! there's a pretty important reveal in this one...

Content warnings for this chapter: box boy universe, pet whump, dehumanization, conditioning, infected wounds, (severe) illness. As always, please let me know if there's anything else I need to tag.

[masterlist] [chapter three]

Vanessa’s never been particularly sensitive to scents—it’s a saving grace, in a mind where too much light or sound or texture can make her feel like she’s dying. But by the time the guy lying shaking on the seats behind her practically falls out of the taxi in front of her stoop, even she’s having a hard time with the smell coming off of him. Given how the driver peels away with all his windows down the second she pulls the last scrap of soiled newspaper from his backseat, it probably isn’t just her.

She turns back to the guy, for the first time finally alone with him. She’s too short to be used to talking down to people, but he’s hunched himself into that weird curled-up position again, so when she speaks it's aimed vaguely toward the top of his head. “Okay. First things first, we’re getting your ass in the shower,” she tells him. “And then we can deal with the effects of my questionable life decisions.” She pauses for a moment, considers. “Well. This one, anyway.”

There’s no way she’s getting him in through the front like this. Too many stairs, and too much dirt. The garden door will have to cut it. She motions for him to follow her down the alley, and he unfurls himself just enough to shuffle after her.

As soon as the shadows close in around them, she looks back over her shoulder. When she’s satisfied that no one can see them, she unclasps the collar from around his neck and tosses it, leash and all, into the garbage.

—

Vanessa can’t say she’s ever been grateful for the fact that her parents are insane enough to have a swimming pool in the basement of their New York fucking brownstone. Quite frankly, she still isn’t; they got the fucker installed when she was a kid and she screamed for so many days they finally packed her off to a hotel with her nanny of the week just to shut her up. Which they probably should have done in the first place, given that she was nine and there was a jackhammer in her fucking basement.

What she is grateful for now, though, is that the part of this floor that isn’t taken up by the pool—or the hot tub, or the weirdly redundant multi-person bathtub—is a shower stall the size of her literal bedroom. Complete with benches, and removable showerheads, and, she’s hoping, everything else she could possibly need right now.

“In here,” she motions, and he drags himself onto the tiles. “I’d offer you the weirdly redundant multi-person bathtub, but you’ve barely been able to keep your head up all day and the last thing I need is to fucking drown a guy in my basement. Also no offense but you’re literally so dirty right now I’d have to drain the fucker the second you got in. After this you can have a bath whenever you want, if you’re into that sorta thing, but for right now you’re getting a damn rinse.”

—

Once he’s more or less situated on the built-in shower bench, propped up in the corner in hopes it’ll keep him from falling ass over, Vanessa gets to work, still fully clothed down to her chucks on the marble tile. She unhooks a showerhead and aims it at the drain while it warms up. “Is this okay?” she asks, pointing it at his feet, and he flinches sluggishly but doesn’t respond either way.

“I don’t know what that means, guy.” She tests the water again with her hand. “It can’t be that bad, can it?” she muses out loud. “It’s the same temperature I’d use for me, and fuck knows I’m… y’know, picky. So if you want it different you gotta tell me, okay.”

He doesn’t tell her shit. But he doesn’t flinch too much harder when she moves the stream of water up toward his knees, either, and she figures that’s the best she’s gonna get.

She leans over him and focuses the showerhead on his hair. It’s matted stiff as tree bark, the water barely able to permeate through the layers of filth. “Shit, I dunno man, your hair’s got so much crap in it. Not to mention it wouldn’t surprise me if that shelter gave you goddamn lice.” She shudders. “Might be better off just cutting it short.”

There’s a noise she barely registers as a gasp before his ice-pale eyes fly open and he clutches her arm, quicker than she’s seen him move by fucking light years. She jerks automatically out of his grip, dropping the showerhead in her alarm, but he fixes her with a lidless, panicky stare and the eye contact is so startling she’s frozen to the spot. “Please…” he wheezes, “don’t.”

“You fuckin’ what, dude?”

“Don’t… cut… my hair.”

She blinks, astonished. “That’s the first thing you’ve said all fucking day, isn’t it?” He doesn’t offer another. “Christ. Typical fuckin’ me not to notice.” She huffs quietly. “Well shit, dude, I guess if you give enough of a fuck to speak up about it it can stay. But so help me if I find a single fucking nit in there.”

He whimpers quietly, squeezing his eyes shut, but he doesn’t say another word.

—

Vanessa gingerly retrieves the showerhead from where it’s spattering up at the ceiling, along with an oversized lace bath pouf and a mostly-full bottle of body wash she’s pretty sure is fucking designer. If you could see me now, Mom, she thinks, squirting the gel at his left shoulder, the one closest to her. You… well, you probably still wouldn’t give a shit.

She touches the pouf to his sullied skin as gently as she can, and she knows she’s not well-coordinated at the best of times but she really doesn’t feel like she deserves the choked-off sound he makes or the way he shrinks away from her when she makes contact. “Oh cmon, guy, look I know but you gotta let me get this shit off you, there’s no way it’s not fucking your shit up worse than it already is,” she cajoles, and whatever she’s said it makes something in his posture go slack and he rolls back toward her, opening himself to her touch. “Thanks, uh, I think,” she hedges, and begins to lather him up with slow, concentrative strokes. She flicks the shower back on, sluicing suds and dirt from his skin in equal measure.

"Ohhh, fucking yiiiiikes," Vanessa says softly.

With the first layer of filth washed away, Vanessa can see the far grimmer reality that’s been hidden underneath. Rows of jagged, infected gashes streak their way across his shoulder to his chest. The skin around them burns an angry red, the wounds themselves all but smothered in sickly whitish-yellow. What narrow swathes of skin remain intact are mottled purple, and now that she’s touching him, she can tell he’s just… way too much hotter than any person should ever be.

She lowers the temperature of the water and keeps washing him, afraid to look but needing to see. Each stroke only reveals more of the same. His chest and left shoulder seem to have gotten most of the worst of it, but there are stripes across his arm, his back, his stomach, deep gouges in his legs. She hasn’t tried to touch his face yet, but now that she knows what to look for she thinks she can even see a scratch or several across his cheek, trailing up into his hairline. Jesus fuck.

It all makes a sinister sort of sense now, she thinks: the shallow breathing, the shivers, the near-total lack of response. And here she thought he just had regular rescuee trauma.

“Fuck,” she breathes out quietly, as the realization creeps over her like ice.

There’s something really, really wrong with this guy.

taglist: @maracujatangerine @pigeonwhumps @tragedyinblue @marchtothefuckingsea @octopus-reactivated @briars7

#whump #pet whump #rescue whump #recovery whump #bbu #box boy universe #vanessa + juniper #disaster caretaker #imperfectly consistent #tw dehumanization #tw conditioning #tw illness #tw injury #tw infection #do I like... need to tag for language?#I know using swears is pretty standard for bbu/pet whump stories #but I also use them kind of a uh. non standard amount.#I kinda feel like vanessa's house needs a tw of its own lmao #I honestly have fun making up all the increasingly ridiculous rich person shit #anyway I've got a decent bit of the next chapter written already (wrote it at some point back when I was working on 2 or 3 tbh)#and that's more or less it for stuff I have fully written out in advance #(from the main storyline at least)#but a lot of the stuff that follows that is stuff I've had in my head for ages #so hopefully it won't be too hard to write out! knock on wood #sometimes the things you think about that much come easily when you finally write them #and sometimes they're nigh on impossible bc you get obsessive with doing them justice #or at least just like. remembering all the ideas you've ever had for them when you finally sit down to write #hello it's me writing a novel in the tags again #anyway I've been falling asleep since somewhere in the middle of proofreading so I should probably wrap this up lol #if you read all this for some reason hi!

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chaotic-on-main · 10 months

Text

Chapter 8: June - Part Three

☾ Pairings ➼ Levi Ackerman x fem!mute!Reader (she/her pronouns), set in a modern semi-fictional world

☾ Summary ➼ Due to childhood trauma, you find yourself an adult without the ability to speak. After years of working on it, you have found ways to live without a voice. Now here in your late 20s, you are 5 months in getting used to a new town. On a fateful day in late November, you and your adopted sister visit a local bookstore-café, unaware of the friendships about to blossom. Throughout the months, one friendship in particular develops into something more.

☾ Content/Warnings ➼ fluff, slowburn, oblivious feelings, romance, angst, mention of minor character deaths, trauma, illness, adoption, mentions of fire, disabilities, alcohol use, very light nsfw mentions, references to child abuse, smoking and alcohol abuse mentions, domestic violence mentions, light assault

☾ Author's note ➼ Hey guys! Here's part 3, as promised!! I'm going to take a very small break from this so I can get started on my summer requests (which by the way if you haven't sent one in and would like to, please go here for the rules!!) but I'll be back soon with what I believe is the best plot line yet. I'm really excited for y'all to see it, as it's like nothing I've ever written before. See y'all with part 4!!

☾ Word Count ➼ ~5.9k

In the past, Levi never found himself in situations like the ones he found himself in lately. Before you landed in his café so many months ago, life was simple. Work, home, sleep for a couple of hours, rinse and repeat. He didn’t mind the repetition. Then you came in and painted his life with every color imaginable – everything seemed so overwhelming. But you would never find him upset about it.

Levi watches you by the kitchen island as you twirl in front of Hange to show off the new dress you had bought from the shopping trip you had earlier in the day. It hugs your curves perfectly. The front is quite modest, probably a personal preference of yours. But the back – Levi averts his gaze from the searing heat pooling into his stomach. His eyes don’t stay away for long, however. How could they?

The open back of your floral patterned, thinly strapped dress ends right above your ass, falling loosely down to the middle of your thighs. You had gotten so much sun yesterday that the lines left behind from your bathing suit cut across your soft skin. That damned bathing suit. It was extremely unfair of you to look like that.

Levi clenches his phone in tight fingers as he forces himself to look away and out the window to the early evening. Clouds so fluffy that they looked drawn on float by gently. The weather has been great all day, and he imagines it will only stay this way for the rest of the night. Was this an omen for something?

“That tour sure was something.” Erwin says as he ambles up to the counter. Levi hums in agreement, only half paying attention to Erwin’s continuous rambles about what you all had seen today at Liberio’s local history and cultural museum.

Most of the displays were about a war that happened a long time ago. He already knew a bit, considering the war in question was with Paradis, the island you are all from. Levi didn’t care too much about history, though. He spent the entire time watching your reactions from afar, inwardly chuckling to himself at your ridiculous behavior. Wide eyes and toothy grin as you went through the whole thing in child-like wonder. Levi’s eyes cut over to your standing figure in the doorway as you chat with your sister.

If there was anything in that museum that needed to be protected at all costs, it was you.

Something tugs at Levi’s sleeve, breaking him out of his thoughts. It’s you, getting his attention to warn him that you were all ready to leave. He nods and slides his phone into his back pocket before following you to the elevator, your sweet perfumes wafting back and tickling his nose.

Liberio’s town square wasn’t very far. The moment you had all stepped out into the humid evening air, Levi’s eyes were immediately blasted with bright streamers and other various multi-colored decorations. The street is fairly crowded as well, and only got worse the closer you all got to the main square.

The scents of assorted cooked foods blew in the breeze, and even Levi couldn’t deny how wonderful they all smelled. He watches as your nose picks up on it as well, and the way you look back at him to check if you were still there makes him want to whisk you away and kiss you right then and there. Levi shakes his head to get that visual out and regrets it immediately.

You were still looking at him when he did that, and your smile fades. You face forward again, focusing on where you were going. Levi groans to himself, mentally punching himself. Did you think he was disapproving of you? It was only the thought of kissing you that he didn’t agree with.

Lies. His brain says.

Fuck off. Levi retorts back.

When you all got to the square, it was much more crowded than the town locals had warned about earlier. The music increased in volume tenfold, and from the looks of it, it’s coming from a DJ booth that sits in front of the town hall. There isn’t a designated dancing area that Levi could tell, considering everyone around him was dancing to the greatest top hits of the summer.-

Someone bumps into you and subsequently right into Levi since he's right behind you. He grabs onto your shoulders to steady you as he shoots daggers at the person that almost knocked you over.

“Are you okay?” Levi’s breath tickles your neck since you’re still pressed up against him from the dense crowd. Instead of responding, he feels your fingers find his hand and closes around it. You squeeze twice. He takes that as an okay because you continue on, but your fingers never let go. And he doesn’t pull away either.

It’s a good thing that you had a grip on him because it wasn’t much longer until Hange and Erwin disappeared from Levi’s sights. What else is new?

The crowd thickens as time goes on. Levi lets you lead, mainly because he doesn’t have the space to be able to pull forward. It became increasingly clear to him early on that you had no idea where you were going. He makes no move to stop you, though.

Levi’s hand tightens on yours and you squeeze back. It’s reassuring, something he wasn’t prepared to feel from such a small action. Whether it was from knowing you were still with him or because it was you to begin with. Abruptly, you stop in your tracks and Levi smacks into the back of you, almost knocking you forward.

“Hey, what…” Levi trails off as he follows your eyes to the spectacle in front.

A burst of heat slams into Levi’s face making him flinch. Blinking a few times, he spots a man dancing with a torch in one hand and a bottle of clear liquid in the other. Someone is off to the side, hand drumming a beat and leading the dancing man. After a few seconds, he does a back flip and then spits out some of the clear liquid he must have had in his mouth up into the sky and sticks the torch in it, creating a fiery plume above his head.

Levi’s eyes flicker over to yours, which sit wide in fear. It shames him to admit that it took him too long to understand why.

Levi squeezes your hand, only now realizing how hard they’re trembling. You don’t squeeze back. He tugs on it, probably a little rougher than he meant to. Your body sways from the sudden jerk, but you still make no effort to move your legs.

“Let’s go sit. Maybe the idiots will find us.” Levi says decisively before interlacing his fingers in yours and dragging you away and back into the crowd, you clumsily following behind.

Eventually, Levi finds solace at a fountain tucked away down the road that is significantly less crowded. He leads you over to it and sits you down gently, noting how glassy your eyes were. You hadn’t moved much since then, which Levi attributed to the possible shock at the sudden flames being thrown in your face.

It had been quite a few months since you were introduced into Levi’s life, but even still, you weren’t very forthcoming about how bad the trauma from that night so many years ago was for you. He’s made assumptions, sure. But there was never a good time to bring it up, and truth be told, he hoped you would talk to him when you were ready.

If you didn’t wish to talk about it, he would offer company instead. He understood that you didn’t need to say anything now, and Levi would wait for as long as he needed to.

“Hey.” Your glazed eyes shift from the couple slow dancing a few yards away and up to Levi’s slate gray eyes. The cool evening air blows past, blowing a few strands across your face as you try to focus on Levi.

“We can take as long as you need.” He mutters over to you. You stare over at him and blink a few times. Your lips pull back into a grateful smile, and nod.

You both sit for a while, watching the people who are currently enjoying the evening festivities. A group of kids run by, all with ice cream cones, followed by a very disheveled blonde teen who looks torn between having fun and wishing he was home.

In addition to the soft music weaving through the buildings, the rushing of water from behind offers a sense of peace that Levi hasn’t felt in a while. Was it the fountain though, or was it you? Levi glances over to find you watching him intently. It makes his stomach do flips.

“Are you getting hungry?” Levi raises an eyebrow at you.

‘I think so. Are you?’ You sit back on the concrete fountain lip you both were currently resting on. Levi could tell you were doing your best to keep yourself present, which meant a distraction is well needed.

“Let’s go get you something.” With that, Levi slides off the wall and offers you a hand. You grab it with no hesitation, smiling up at him as he pulls you off the side and a few inches away from his face.

There’s a moment where Levi pauses, glancing down to your lips that currently still curve into a soft smile. Blinking a few times, he takes a step back and mumbles an apology. He turns on his heel and leads you over to the multiple food stalls lining the sides of the closed off road, his fingers intertwining in yours to not lose you.

“What kind of food are you thinking of?” Levi semi-shouts over the chatter around you, his eyes scanning around the options then over to you. You stand, hip cocked to the side as you tap your chin with a finger in thought. Your lips jut out as you contemplate. Eventually, your gaze lands on a stall selling something called ‘pizza cones’. You point to that one, and look over to Levi with wide eyes. How could he ever say no to that face.

Levi internally groans when he gets closer, however. The line is a little long, but that’s not what makes his skin crawl. There’s only a few people ahead and Levi watches as the vendor hands a girl no older than 10 a cheesy cone. She takes a huge bite out of it before fanning her mouth from the heat, food still stuffed in her mouth. Cheese and red sauce slip out the corners of her wide smile, looking up at a familiar blonde teenager who returns a booming laugh. These were the messiest things Levi’s ever seen.

“Reiner, you have to try this!” She shouts, barely containing her glee. The boy who she referred to as Reiner glances over to you and Levi standing behind them and offers a small apology.

“I will Gabi, but we need to let these nice people have their turn now. Let’s go find Falco and the others so you can gush about it with them, yeah?” He pats her head and places a hand on her shoulders before turning her around and marching her off. Reiner turns and mouths another apology before getting lost in the crowd.

“What can I get you two?” A man leans out of the window as he eyes you and Levi. He has a black handlebar mustache that curls out at the ends and a sweaty, bald head. He smiles down at the pair of you with warmth.

Levi looks over to you as you squint your eyes at the menu hanging up by the window. Your teeth bite into your bottom lip as you focus, eyes glued to the blackboard. After a couple seconds, your eyes flicker over to Levi and puff your cheeks out.

‘What are you getting?’

“I’m not that hungry. What are you getting?” Levi crosses his arms across his chest as he waits for you. You scrunch your nose as you try to decide, which was not easy to do. His stomach flips as he watches you think.

‘I guess I’ll take a pepperoni one. With extra cheese!’ You sign excitedly.

Levi easily translates for the man and before you can dig for your wallet in the little bag strapped across your body, he whips out a few bills and hands them over. You shoot him a glare, hand still in your bag.

“Too slow.” A smirk plays on his lips as he glances over to you. You reach over and pinch his earlobe with your tongue sticking out at him. He swats at you with one hand as he reaches over and grabs the cone you had ordered from the vendor’s outstretched arm in the other, saying thanks as he does. Levi hands it over to you, and you return a grateful smile despite your annoyance from him paying. Then he points in a direction with his head and walks off, you practically skipping on his heels.

Levi doesn’t stop until he finds a fairly clear spot, landing you both where the carnival games just start on the street. Unfortunately, there isn’t anywhere to sit. Instead, he leans against a brick wall facing the crowd, arms across his chest as he watches you back into the wall as well.

You are much more delicate with this absurd delicacy in your hand compared to that child earlier, opting to use a plastic fork you had grabbed before leaving the stall. You look up to see him watching you with those stormy grey eyes of his. You’re caught off guard by the intense stare that the contents on your fork slip off and splatter back into the doughy cone. Levi huffs under his breath in amusement as he continues to eye you.

He never thought he would get this comfortable around anyone. But you weren’t just anyone anymore, were you? You were that little girl he sought to protect those many years ago. And now you’re the woman he wouldn’t mind standing next to for as long as he was able to. Levi’s thoughts falter at the sudden revelation.

When did this happen? There’s a nagging in the back of his head telling him that he’s always felt like that. What would you think if you found him out? Would you want that? Him?

You mouth a ‘what’ to him, not able to converse clearly with both hands occupied.

“You’re a mess.” Levi retorts back dryly.

Gingerly, Levi leans over with a napkin pinched in between two fingers, his eyes fixated on something above your lip. He gently wipes at it with the papery napkin, your eyes never leaving his face. You stand, frozen, which makes things easier for Levi. After a moment, he pulls away to inspect his work. His eyes scan your face to make sure, but in truth, he just liked looking at you and he wanted any excuse to do so. He folds the napkin up once he’s satisfied and leans back against the brick building as if nothing happened. His stomach, however, does somersaults.

“Um, excuse me.” A shaky voice pipes up from in front. You and Levi turn to the source at the same time and are met with the sight of an older woman, maybe in her 70s, with a thin piece of what looks to be paper pinched between two fingers. She has a gentle smile gracing her features, her crows feet surrounding her sparkling hazel eyes. A polaroid camera hangs from her neck.

“I’m really sorry to intrude, and I hope this doesn’t come off as weird. But I snapped this photo of you two from afar, and I thought you two might like it.” She pushes her hand with the piece of paper forward to Levi, and he takes it carefully. His slightly annoyed expression turns into surprise.

It’s not just a piece of paper - it’s a developed photo. And in the film is a picture of you staring at Levi as he leans in, napkin in hand. It’s not the snapshot itself that flusters him, nor the fact that this random stranger had even taken an unsolicited photo of you both. It was the look that you were giving Levi, forever immortalized in this small frame.

“You two are very adorable. How long have you been together?” She smiles unknowingly.

Levi glances back up to the woman and stutters in denial at the same time that you wave your hands in front of your body in a declining manner. She raises her eyebrows in surprise.

“Oh, dear me. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to assume. You two just fit well together.” She reaches over and pats your shell-shocked face right on the cheek. She stares into your eyes and then gives a subtle nod. Looking over to Levi, she smiles sweetly.

“You keep that photo for memories, will you?” She reaches over and pats Levi on the chest before turning on her heels and walking off into the crowd.

You pluck the picture out of Levi’s hand and pull it up close to your face. Levi watches as your eyes widen at the glossy film. Carefully, you open your bag and slide it in for safekeeping. As if nothing happened, you go back to eating your meal, ignoring the red-hot blood pooling into your cheeks.

The topic of the photo lies forgotten, or maybe it was intentionally ignored. Levi wonders what you might be thinking – did you see the same thing he saw? Maybe there wasn’t anything to see and his brain is playing tricks on him. He decides to go with that and pushes it far back in his mind.

You had finished your food relatively quickly, offering bites to Levi as you went on. He, of course, declined. He was having enough fun watching you enjoy your food in peace. Once you had discarded all the trash, you look over to Levi with a raised eyebrow, as if to say, ‘where to?’

“Let’s go find Hange and Erwin. There’s no telling what those idiots have gotten themselves into.”

For some reason, you decide to helm the expedition again and choose to go through the street full of carnival games. Levi supposes that’s not too far off for his friends knowing who they are as people. However, the more he watches your attention jump from booth to booth, he realizes you were more curious about your surroundings than interested in finding the rest of the group. He didn’t mind if it meant watching your face gawk at everything, though.

Levi is in the middle of staring at some people failing miserably at an airsoft game when he feels your fingers tug at his shirt sleeve to get his attention. He looks over to see you smiling at him excitedly and pointing to a high striker game off to the side.

There are already a few people surrounding it, watching a small woman ready the big hammer in her hands. Her blonde hair is pulled up into clip and a bored expression plasters her face, as if this is nothing for her. She shifts her weight, takes a deep breath, and swings the large hammer over her head and right down onto the lever marked with a red X.

The bell at the top rings out, followed by the loud cheers of the friends around her. She just shrugs and leans the hammer back against the base.

“I told you Bertoldt,” A brown-haired girl wraps her arm around the blonde girl’s shoulders as she smiles widely. “Annie kicks all kinds of ass. Bet you couldn’t even get it halfway.” She taunts. The tall brunette man next to them sighs.

“I’m not doing it, Hitch.”

“Is it because you’re scared of looking like a fool?” The woman named Hitch shoots him a smirk, leaning against the blonde.

“Excuse me miss, what kind of pr-“

“I’m good.” Annie cuts the vendor off and starts off in the opposite direction and says as she walks, “I did the thing, now let’s go find Reiner. I’m sure he’s tired of babysitting all of those kids.” The other two bicker behind her as they follow.

Levi feels his shirt being tugged again, this time in the direction of the game. You don’t stop until you’re right in front of the stand, letting go of Levi and reaching into your purse for a couple dollars.

“Giving it a try?” Levi asks. After handing the vendor a few dollars, you turn around to Levi and smile.

‘Obviously.’ You reach over to grab the hammer. Levi’s concern only bubbles up for a moment after watching you struggle to bring it over your shoulder. It dissipates as quickly as he sees the look of determination wash over your face. Your constant tenacity continues to surprise him, though he knows it shouldn’t. This is just who you are.

He watches as you take a stance like the girl that was here before, legs wide and shoulders rolled back. Taking a deep breath, you swing from behind and the hammer arcs over your head before smashing down with a heavy slam. There's a tongue-click of disappointment as the puck rises just right below the bell. When you turn to face Levi, he sees your cheeks puffed out.

“If your goal wasn’t to hit the bell, that was pretty good.” Levi muses. He’s met with a glare and pout. He raises his hands in feign defense and asks, “Do you want some help?”

‘Don’t even think about it. I can do better.’ Levi huffs in amusement and nods. It’s that damned tenacity again. Without saying another word, he reaches into his wallet and digs out a few more dollars before handing it off to the vendor. You offer him a wide smile and turn back around to the game.

You take a moment to steady yourself, squeezing the handle with both hands as you stare at the cherry red bell at the top of the 6-foot tower. Again, you widen your stance, roll your shoulders back. Deep breath, a swing, and a hit. The area rings out with a loud metallic clang as the puck hits the bell dead on.

In an instant, the hammer is on the ground and your arms are wrapping around Levi in a tight hug. It’s brief but Levi sighs in the scent of your delicious shampoo and revels in the feeling of your body against his. When you pull away, your eyes are as wide as your smile.

‘Did you see that?! I did it!’ Your body is practically vibrating in excitement at your achievement.

“Good job, I knew you could.” Levi rolls his eyes again, only to keep himself from staring at the way your lips pull back into that beautiful smile of yours.

“Nicely done, miss!” The vendor smiles brightly over to you. “Go ahead and pick something off the wall!” He flourishes his hand in front of a wall filled with various stuffed animals and multicolored objects. You press your hands against the counter of the booth and lean forward on them as you stare at your options. Glancing over, you purse your lips and stare at Levi.

“What?” Levi raises an eyebrow.

‘Which one do I want?’

“Shouldn’t you know that better than me?”

‘I’m unsure. Will you choose for me?’ You give him a small smile as you sit back on the balls of your feet.

“And why would I do that?” Levi crosses his arms and stares at you, eyebrows knit.

‘Technically, you paid for the winning hit.’ You shrug your shoulders.

“It’s not my prize, though.” He grumbles, rolling his eyes. You’re really good at making him do that.

‘Please, Levi? Pick one for me?’

“Fine, but you can’t be mad at me if you don’t like it.” Levi frowns a bit as he stares up at the wall. There are so many choices, he’s not sure how he could even pick something properly. Until his sights land on something tucked behind another creature that makes him chuckle. Levi looks over to you and says your name.

“Close your eyes.” He orders. A smile trembles on your lips and you pinch them tight as you do as you’re asked.

“That one please, sir.” Levi points over to it. The vendor smiles kindly over to him then reaches up with a claw extender to pull it down. When it’s in Levi’s hands, he squeezes it gently; It’s soft and big enough to be a pillow.

“Okay, you can open them now.”

The look of pure joy that paints your face is something that will stay in Levi’s mind forever. The way your smile lights up every facet, eyes sparkling just as bright.

‘A strawberry!’ A small laugh escapes as you grab it from Levi’s hands and hold it out to inspect it closely. It’s a simple design. Brilliant red pocked with little white spots and topped with green leaves. It was simple, but it already meant more to you than Levi would ever know.

You hold the plush close to your chest and lean over to kiss him on the cheek. Levi blinks hard and stares at you in surprise, reeling at the tingling left behind where you had pressed your lips against his skin. He opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. Levi struggles to process what just happened, but you don’t give him a chance to do so as you hum and turn around on your heels before walking off.

You and Levi wander around the miscellaneous stalls selling various trinkets in hopes of finding Erwin and Hange. They were still nowhere to be found, but at least you were having a good time walking about. When it felt like you both had done two rounds around the block, Levi found a table off to the side of the main plaza. The DJ is still in full swing, offering music to the dancing patrons that twirl by.

Half an hour later, leaning against the table propped up on one arm, Levi is tempted to just say ‘fuck it’ and head back to the condo for the night until a young man comes up to where you’re sitting and offers a hand.

“Pardon me, miss. I can’t help but notice you sitting here and would like to offer a dance.” He says in a soft voice.

You look up at him with surprise. For a moment, Levi’s worried you’ll say yes out of sudden pressure, but much to his satisfaction, you shake your head ‘no’ with a polite smile. He would never admit how pleased he was to see the smile fall off the poor man’s face at your denial.

“You’re so beautiful, though. Why don’t you come with me? How can you sit here alone?” His voice drips with desperation.

“She’s not alone.” Levi grumbles over to him, unable to keep the hostility out of his voice.

“And who might you be?” The stranger retracts his hand and stares over at Levi with indignation.

“Her dance partner, so leave.” Your eyes snap over to Levi at that comment. Levi doesn’t give off a single emotion as he stares coldly at the harasser. The man walks off, muttering under his breath about rude tourists.

Suddenly, you’re on your feet and in front of Levi, holding your hand out to him. Levi narrows his eyes to your hand and then to your cheeky smile. You have your stuffed strawberry tucked under the other arm that sits at your side.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

‘I’m asking you to dance, partner.’ You wiggle your fingers at him.

“Tch, like hell.”

‘Then I guess I’ll go find that oth-‘ Levi grabs your hand quickly, his fingers folding over your palm.

“Don’t even think about it.” This makes your shoulders bounce in laughter, and you pull him up as best you can. He stumbles a bit, wincing at his sore leg.

‘Just one dance.’ The music changes to something slow as you say that. The dancing crowd disperses, leaving room for those staying to slow dance.

“Fine.” Levi nods hesitantly.

Oh, how he loved your smiles. The way they brightened everything around you. Levi grabs the strawberry out from under your arm and places it on the table you were both just sitting at. You open your mouth to object, but he cuts you off.

“We’ll stay here. Unfortunately, three do not work well for dancing.” And like that, he pulls you in close. His hand wraps around you and settles on the small of your back where the skin just ends, sending goosebumps down your arms and legs. He takes the hand he is holding and places it behind his neck. You follow with your other arm, properly wrapping both arms around him.

Levi feels heat scorching into his cheeks as you both sway to the jazzy tune that floats through the air. He never saw himself as someone who would dance, especially slowly and even more so in front of the public eye. But here he was, with you in his arms. And he didn’t hate it as much as he thought he would.

He looks down into your eyes as he rocks back and forth with you in place. As always, he’s drawn to the depth of your eyes and the way they shine in the flickering lanterns littering around the decorated space. He still couldn’t understand why you watched him the way you did, but he couldn’t get enough of it.

Someone bumps into your back, pushing you flush up against Levi’s chest as they pass. You hear a soft apology from behind and then they’re gone. When you try to pull away, you’re met with resistance from Levi’s arms as he holds you closer.

“You’re fine.” He mumbles to you.

Levi feels your head lower onto his shoulder, your cheek pressed against the soft cloth, as the two of you continue to rock in place. He holds you close even when the song eventually ends. Before he realizes it, one song had turned to many.

You were fairly certain that your sister and Erwin weren’t coming back, and you find yourself not really caring that much. The time spent with Levi was more than you could have asked for. But as most things always do, it came to an end. You couldn’t blame Levi for suggesting to head back to the condo, though. With his more than subtle limp and your burning, tired eyes, you both agree quickly to leave the overwhelmingly crowded streets for the solace of a quiet space.

The moment the elevator doors slammed shut, the atmosphere between you and Levi shifts instantly. Thinking back on it, you would say some of it was your fault. The way you eyed Levi as he leaned across to press the code. How now in this enclosed space, his intoxicating scent filled every corner. You were alone with him for once, with no one around to watch. Were the events from tonight fogging your mind?

You grip Levi’s sleeve in tight fingers, and as always, he looks over to you in concern. You only do this to get his attention, though why he always looks at you like something is wrong is beyond you. But maybe he should think that, because there was something terribly wrong.

“Yeah?” He mutters over to you, sharp gray eyes staring into your own.

You can’t hear anything but the pulse pounding in your ears. If you could, you would have heard how your breath hitched and the breathy way Levi said your name. If you were paying attention to anything other than the way his gaze softened, you would have noticed it was you grabbing his shirt collar and pulling him into you. If you had any thoughts past the way his beautifully marred lips looked right now, you would have noticed that your lips were already pressing onto them.

You’ve always been a hopeless romantic. You’ve read all the books, watched all the rom-coms, laughed at the insinuation that there would be sparks or even something burning in your chest when you kiss someone special to you. Nothing prepares you for the way you feel right now.

Fluttering your eyes closed, you melt. You tangle your fingers into his soft t-shirt and hold him close, feeling his body heat emanating through the cloth. Levi’s rough hand cups your jaw and tilts your head, pulling you more into the kiss. There’s a hunger behind his movements and a fleeting thought of him devouring you whole flies through your mind. You wouldn’t mind, not if it was Levi.

His hands find their way down to your hips and squeezes, his fingertips finding purchase and digging into your flesh. Heat flows through your whole body like explosive static. The tip of his tongue teases the entrance of your mouth, as if asking for permission. In an answer to Levi, you moan softly into his mouth. You were unprepared for how touch starved you were, and something tells you Levi could notice. Perhaps he was the same.

As if struck by lightning, Levi pulls away quickly as he inhales sharply for air. Your chest rises and falls as you do your best to catch your breath as well. He stares at you, eyes wide in shock at what just happened.

Levi says your name again, softly. Perplexed. Confused.

You’re suddenly aware of what you and Levi just did. A dam bursts in you and you can’t placate the emotions you seem to be cycling through right now. You lift a finger up to your bottom lip, still feeling the pressure of his lips on yours. Still tasting Levi on your tongue. Oh god, why did you do that?

Ding!

You press your stuffed plush against your chest and push past him into the condo. You beeline it to your bedroom, closing the door behind you and sliding against it until you are sitting on the floor. Burying your face into the soft fabric of the strawberry, you take a deep breath and try to focus on the emotions at the forefront of your mind.

There’s the obvious giddiness that dances through, then the elation and the excitement. But then comes guilt, fear, and mourning for the friendship you and Levi had up until you ruined it with your own impulsive self. You shouldn’t have kissed him, but you did. And you wanted to. And you liked it. But the hot tears that threatened to overspill from your eyes tells a different story.

Moonlight filters in through the sheer curtains, creating shadows on the floor next to you. You hear a door shut out in the living space, the click reverberating off the empty walls. You tell yourself after three deep breaths to get up and get ready for bed. It takes you more than ten, but eventually you find yourself in pajamas and lying on your side facing away from the windows.

Sleep does not come easily to you. You’re awake when Hange comes stumbling into the bedroom singing a song about bumblebees. You’re awake while pretending to be asleep so you don’t have to answer Hange’s incessant comments and questions as they get ready for bed. And you’re even awake when the walls start lighting up with blue hues from the oncoming sunrise.

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lewmagoo · 1 year

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before the devil comes for you | robert “bob” floyd

chapter two previous chapter | next chapter

summary: the year is 1975. robert floyd is a young reverend haunted by demons from his past. fresh out of seminary, he is led to take up a backwoods church in a small mining town. there, he meets a woman who is in the midst of questioning the very foundation of her faith. as their worlds collide, robert soon finds himself tangled in a web of temptation and lies. with the past he’s spent so long trying to outrun quickly closing in, he is faced with a decision, in which he must either condemn the woman he loves, or turn his back on his faith.

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pairing: robert "bob" floyd x oc (fairlight mackall)

warnings: 18+ ONLY, heavy religious themes, slight sexual innuendos, mentions of death, some misogynistic idealism, mentions of parental abuse, gunshot injury (not described in great detail but it's still a a significant part of this chapter), mentions of gun violence, medical emergency. i think that's all? let me know if i missed anything!

Morning dawned upon the mountains of Backforty Gap. And in an old farmhouse on a bountiful plot of land, a young woman was just waking to prepare for the day.

Fairlight had risen with the sun, and when her eyes opened, a smile graced her features. This was no ordinary day. Her mundane life, the life she was so desperate to escape, had suddenly become very, very interesting.

And it was all thanks to the young preacher currently residing on her property.

When her father had informed her of a new reverend by the name of Robert Floyd taking on the church, she hadn’t been all that thrilled, only because she imagined a carbon copy of their previous reverend.

But then a fresh-faced man who couldn’t have been any older than thirty appeared, eyes hopeful, hands trembling with his eagerness to help this community, and Fairlight’s world was turned in its axis.

She didn’t know what it was about him that drew her in. He was just magnetizing. A little shy, very clean cut, in both appearance and the way he carried himself, and shrouded in mystery.

She wanted to know more about him. Where he came from, who he was before he became a man of the cloth. Fairlight had always been particularly skilled at reading people, and when she looked into the pale blue eyes of the preacher, she saw a man running from something. But what it was, she had yet to figure out.

He was the first thing on her mind as she got up that morning, readying herself for the day. She found herself wanting to impress him. To show him what a good host she was, even here, in the backwoods of a God-forsaken town in the middle of the mountains.

Surely he was used to city comforts. Coming to a place like this was probably a culture shock. She could only imagine such a thing. She’d lived in Backforty Gap her entire life. It was a place that was frozen in time. While things had certainly changed over the course of her twenty-one years of life, it was still the same impoverished community it always had been.

She’d been to the city, with her father. She knew how much life differed from the village. The people of this area were incredibly poor. If she had to guess, she might even say it was one of the poorest communities in the entire state. And no one cared. Why would they, after all? A group of backwoods hillbillies were better left out of sight, out of mind.

The children were hungry. The parents worked their hands to the bone to provide for those children. Many of them lived in squalor. Illness was often prevalent, especially because many of these families had a surplus of children, who spread illness back and forth.

That was why an outbreak of scarlet fever the year before had deeply affected the community. And before that, many eldest sons had left to fight in Vietnam. It seemed that the community kept dwindling, growing smaller and smaller. Fairlight feared that it would soon cease to exist. And that was part of why she wanted to escape.

She felt like the walls were closing in on her. Like she was going to be trapped here, destined to be someone’s housewife, to stare into the hungry faces of her children and grapple with the reality that she could not provide for them. She would be forced to depend on her husband for that. And life in these mountains was hard. It could be beautiful, but it could also be cruel and unforgiving.

She didn’t desire a life in which her husband lost his to the mines. She refused to be a young widow with little ones to care for.

The first chance she got, she was going to leave this place behind. She would remove herself from the control of her father, and start her own life.

Montgomery Mackall kept his daughter on a short leash. As the deacon of the church, he expected much from her. She had to attend every church service. She had to participate in ministering to the community. She had to take care of the household. Tend to the cooking, cleaning, sewing. Everything her mother was supposed to be responsible for.

Opal Mackall had left when Fairlight was only six-years-old. By default, “woman’s work”, as Montgomery called it, fell upon his daughter, even though she was but a small girl. She’d been forced to grow up fast.

She had forced herself to grin and bear it, doing everything the right way in front of her father. If she disobeyed or committed a grievous sin, she would be in a world of trouble, and would often suffer an onslaught of lashes from his heavy belt.

However, instead of walking the straight and narrow, she learned to hide things from him, to sneak around behind his back so he would be none the wiser. But it was only a matter of time before she stopped caring. Stopped hiding, stopped playing the part of the good little church mouse. And when that time came, she would leave her father and his iron rule behind, and become the person she’d always dreamed of being.

Until then, she was trapped in a never-ending limbo, just waiting to take that leap of faith.

But now, while she waited, she at least had someone interesting to observe. And observe him, she did. While she strolled out to the chicken coop to gather the eggs for the day, she caught sight of the reverend making his way back to his quarters.

It appeared that he had just bathed in the river nearby. His shirt hung over his body, the front open to expose a flash of milky white skin. His hair was still damp, and curling around the edges, just against his forehead.

Fairlight found herself staring, unable to take her eyes off his ethereal countenance. But she quickly averted her gaze, burning with shame when she realized what she was doing. It was one thing to lust after a boy from the community. But the preacher? Surely God would curse her to eternal damnation.

But the holy fire she was sure she was going to be struck with never fell, and when she looked up again, he was gone, having slipped into his cabin and shut the door behind him. The flaxen-haired girl let out a soft breath, shaking her head at her own foolishness.

Even still, as she gathered the eggs from the hens, Reverend Floyd remained at the edges of her mind. But she would quickly find that he would take up permanent residence there very soon.

Inside his quarters, Bob had a sneaking suspicion that he was being watched, but he refused to acknowledge it. Refused to look at the beautiful woman whose storm-gray eyes he could not get off his mind. Instead of letting his mind wander, he stepped over to his bed and retrieved his beloved Bible.

Get thee behind me, Satan.

He read a passage of Proverbs as he got ready for the day, quoting each verse out loud. Then, as he stood in the middle of the room, fully clothed, hair combed, he breathed a prayer to the Almighty, and then, he stepped back outside, ready to join the world.

He checked the time on the pocket watch he always kept on his person. One that had belonged to his grandfather. Six fifty-nine on the dot. Once he made it to the main house, he would be right on time for breakfast.

He hummed the tune of Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing as he walked. It was one of his favorite hymns, one which he planned to sing with the congregation of Backforty Church when he met with them for the first time on Sunday morning.

Inside the house, Fairlight was just finishing breakfast preparations for the morning, and she couldn’t help but take pause when she heard the sound of melodic humming carrying in through the open window.

Moments later, a knock could be heard at the door. “It’s open!” She called out as she set a basket of homemade bread down on the table.

Reverend Floyd stepped into the house, offering her a kind smile. “Mornin’, Miss Mackall,” he greeted her.

She mirrored his smile. “It’s Fairlight, remember?”

He nodded, eyes twinkling with something she couldn’t quite place. Before another word could be exchanged between the pair, the screen door squeaked open again, and in walked Mont. Fairlight faded into the background as her father walked into the room, his boots scraping against the unfinished wooden flooring.

“Reverend,” he greeted Bob, reaching out to shake his hand.

Bob nodded. “Morning.”

The older man motioned toward the table, and Bob moved to step toward an open chair, allowing Fairlight to take a seat first before he sat down. Then, he caught Mont looking at him expectantly. “Mind sayin’ grace?”

Bob bowed his head and evenly spoke, “Bless us, Oh Lord, and these thy gifts which we are about to receive from thy bounty, through Christ, Our Lord. Amen.”

“Amen,” both Mont and his daughter echoed.

Breakfast was served, and Bob couldn’t help but feel a bit like he was intruding. This was their home, after all. And he was but a stranger in it. But Mont soon pulled him into a conversation, and he didn’t have a chance to dwell on it much longer.

“So, Reverend. Now that you’re settled ‘n all, I wanted to ask ya. Most of my livelihood comes from the woodworking I do. Haven’t had time to get any orders done because I’ve been so busy running the church. Now that you’re here, I was wondering. You any good with carpentry?”

Bob got the sense as to where this was going. “I’ve worked in carpentry, yes. Why?”

“Would you be obliged to help with some of the projects? When you aren’t busy ministering and studying sermons, and all.”

Bob could see a weariness in the man’s eyes, manifesting itself in the deepening lines on his face. He couldn’t have been much older than fifty, but years of hard work and the stressors of life had aged him. The young preacher nodded, figuring Mont desperately needed the help. “I’d be happy to help. I wanna earn my keep, after all. Just let me know what you want me to do, and I’ll do it.”

That seemed to satisfy the man, and the conversation shifted to other things. As they spoke, Bob couldn’t help but notice the way Fairlight remained quiet as a mouse, hardly contributing anything but a smile or nod here and there. He got the sense that she felt left out, so he made a move to include her.

“So, have you lived in Backforty Gap your entire life, Fairlight?” He asked, voice gentle.

Her eyes flickered to his, and she found him looking at her with such kindness and interest that it took her breath away. She only person who was ever that interested in what she had to say was her best friend, Zinnia Allen.

But just as the pale-haired girl opened her mouth to speak, her father interjected. “She was born and raised here,” he said.

Bob tried to hide the frown that creased his brow. Before he could attempt to redirect the conversation to her, so she could answer for herself, Mont continued.

“She was born in this very house, actually.” The man’s face grew serious, and he leaned over the table, elbows resting against the wood. “Her momma died givin’ birth to her, so it’s just been me and Fairlight all these years.”

Bob jumped slightly at the sudden sound of metal clattering loudly against a plate. When he glanced at Fairlight, her gray eyes had gone dark as an approaching summer storm. She was looking directly at her father, fury clear on her features, but she said nothing. Instead, she pushed her chair away from the table and rushed out of the room, the screen door slamming behind her.

Montgomery sighed, shaking his head. “It’s a sore subject for her. We don’t talk about it much.”

But the preacher got the sense that there was much more than met the eye. He let his eyes settle on Mont, regarding him silently. He was lying about something, that much was certain. But it wasn’t Bob’s business to stick his nose into. So he simply left it as it was, and let Mont change the subject.

During the rest of breakfast, they spoke of the church, and Mont warned him that the congregation might be difficult to minister to. But the entire time, Bob’s mind drifted to the girl that had stormed out of the house, and he wondered why she’d done so. The venom in her eyes had not been something he’d been expecting from someone as kind as her.

When breakfast was finally over, he eagerly stood, making his way back out into the sun-warmed morning. When he stepped onto the porch, he was surprised to find Fairlight sitting on an old, wooden rocking chair that stood in the corner of the porch.

He hesitated, unsure if he should say anything. Finally, he settled on, “are you alright?”

She managed a smile despite herself. “I’ll be fine,” she replied, waving her hand dismissively.

Bob opened his mouth again, wanting to say more. But what could he say? He took a tentative step forward, hoping to offer comforting words from the Good Book. However, he was barely able to take the breath needed to utter those words before a desperate shout ripped across the property.

His head whipped in the direction of the sound, and beside him, Fairlight quickly rose from her seat. A young boy was sprinting up the Mackall property, waving his arms and screaming at the top of his lungs.

“That’s Will Allen,” Fairlight gasped. She hurriedly pushed past Bob, shouting for her father as she went. “Daddy! Something’s wrong!”

She was already scrambling down the porch steps, and Bob followed at her heels, unsure of what was taking place, but willing to help in any way. Fairlight ran like the wind, hair flying behind her as she caught up to the boy.

The young one, who couldn’t have been more than eight years old, threw himself into her arms, wailing uncontrollably, hyperventilating as he fought to catch his breath. Fairlight stepped back, holding him at arm’s length.

She bent forward so she was at eye level with the boy. “Will, I’m right here, honey. Slow deep breaths, in and out. Come on, just like that.”

Bob watched as she miraculously settled the boy down enough to speak coherent words. His heaving gasps calmed, and his sobs slowed. Her gentle hands cupped his cheeks, thumbs wiping at his tear tracks.

“What happened?” She asked.

“My daddy! He’s hurt real bad! Gun went off an’ he’s bleedin’!”

At that moment, Mont caught up to them. His daughter whirled around to face him. “Jed’s been shot,” was all she had to say.

He nodded firmly. “Get to the truck.”

Fairlight grabbed Will’s hand, motioning for Bob to follow as she ran after her father to the rickety pickup sitting in the front yard. The reverend was reeling, his body buzzing with a sudden rush of adrenaline. Before he even realized what was happening, he was seated in the bed of the truck beside Fairlight, while young Will sat up front with Mont, describing to him where Jed was.

“Jed is my best friend’s father,” Bob heard Fairlight speak beside him, her voice wavering.

“Did someone shoot him?”

“I-it’s hard to say. Jed is a hunter, it could’ve just been an accident.” But, it also could have been intentional. She didn’t add that, however. She wouldn’t jump to conclusions until she knew what had happened. There were certain members of the community who were prone to violence, and she wouldn’t be surprised if one of them, namely Hawk Neiman, had been the one to shoot Jeb.

Russell “Hawk” Neiman was well known in Backforty Gap for being the best shot in the area. It was where he got the nickname Hawk. His eyes never missed a shot. He usually kept his gun use limited to hunting, but pair his alcoholic tendencies with a loaded gun, and there was no telling what he’d do.

But now was no time for pointing fingers. Jed needed help, and he needed it now. The nearest hospital was forty minutes out, and most of the people in the community didn’t trust hospitals as it was, so trying to get him there would be fighting a losing battle. It was best to get him to the doctor’s house instead.

The entire ride, all Fairlight could think about was Zinnia, Jed’s daughter. The two girls had been friends since they could remember. Although their friendship had dwindled as they grew into adulthood, and now with Zinnia engaged to be married, Fairlight still cared about her well-being, and she could only imagine how upset the girl would be about her father. Jed and Zinnia had a close bond. One that Fairlight had always envied.

Beside her, as the old truck rattled down the unkempt country roads, Robert Floyd’s own mind was spinning. He’d been in Backforty Gap all of one day, and he’d already been thrust into a life-or-death situation. What had he gotten himself into? And what more awaited him?

He had no time to dwell on it, for all too soon, the truck skidded to a halt. As Mont climbed out of the truck, Bob scrambled to jump out of the truck bed, turning without thinking to reach up and catch Fairlight, gently lowering her to the ground.

Young Will ran up ahead, and the trio followed, until they came to the riverbank, where Jed Allen lay at the water’s edge, the water around him tinged red from the blood that had soaked through his clothes.

“How’d this happen, boy?” Mont asked Will as he knelt beside Jed.

Will’s bottom lip quivered, his bright green eyes filling with tears. “I tripped on the…the gun. It went off and it hit him.”

So it had been an accident.

“It’s okay, honey. It was an accident,” Fairlight assured the boy, pulling him into her side. He immediately began to sob, burying his face against the fabric of her dress.

“Help me out, Preacher,” Mont spoke up, and Bob sprang into action, stepping forward to help Mont lift the man off the ground.

Grunting laboriously, both of them managed to carry the man back to the truck, lifting him into the bed with much effort. Once again, Mont jumped into the driver’s seat, with Will climbing into the truck bed this time, pressing himself against Fairlight as he cried, terrified of what would become of his father.

The girl held him tightly, soothing his cries as she watched Bob, who desperately pressed his hands against the man’s wound, trying to slow the bleeding. The shot had hit him in the lower abdomen, and there was no telling how deep it was.

Pale blue met stormy gray, and the pair held each other’s gaze. Bob’s full of uncertainty, and Fairlight’s full of fear. What would become of this man? Bob spoke a silent prayer to the Lord that he would pull through, if only for the sake of the young boy weeping across from him.

Suddenly, the truck jerked to a halt. Bob looked up

to find that they’d stopped outside a modestly sized cabin, nestled in a grove of trees. Mont jumped out of the truck, boots crunching against gravel as he ran around to open the bed.

Wordlessly, Bob helped him drag Jed out, and he followed the older man’s lead as he moved toward the cabin.

“Doc!” Mont shouted. “Doc, we need help!”

Moments later, the door swung open and out stepped an older, blonde-haired man. Doctor Quinton McHone, to be exact. When he saw what was taking place, he sprung into action without a moment of hesitation.

“Talk to me, Mont!” He instructed as he reached the men.

“Gun went off, shot him in the belly,” Mont grunted.

“Alright, get ‘im inside and up on the table.”

Bob followed the two men’s lead, managing to get Jed into the cabin. There was a large, empty table in the middle of the room, and they heaved him up onto the surface.

Bob stumbled back, gasping heavily for breath, realizing just how exerted he was from the ordeal. His chest heaved beneath the cotton of his shirt, and he reached up, running the back of his hand over his damp brow.

“Livy and the kids know about this?” Doc McHone asked, already moving to roll his shirt sleeves up his brawny arms.

“Will knows, he’s the one who came and got us. I’ll take the truck over and pick up Livy and the rest of ‘em,” Mont quickly responded, already clambering toward the door.

Bob watched him leave, and just outside the door, he noticed Fairlight, who kept Will on the porch, soothing him gently as he sniffled and cried. But the reverend was soon interrupted by the gruff voice of Quinton McHone.

“You the new preacher?” He asked.

Bob met his sharp gaze. “I am.”

“Your God still perform miracles?”

The young man nodded. “He is.”

“Good, ‘cause this man’s gonna need one.” Then, he motioned Bob closer as he moved to unbutton Jed’s shirt. “Help me with him.”

Bob sprang forward to assist with whatever the doctor needed. He could scarcely believe that this was actually happening before his very eyes. His hands shook with a tremor he could not control, and he fought to remain calm. In the city, this would be an easy fix. But out here, in this seemingly Godforsaken cove? This was life or death. If the doctor didn’t act fast, Jed Allen would die.

Before his mind had a chance to spiral, the sound of Mont’s truck approaching caught his attention, and moments later, the sound of rushed footsteps. A woman burst into the cabin, dark hair wild around her head. When her gaze fell upon the man sprawled out on the table, a sob ripped from her throat, and she rushed to his side.

“Jed! Oh, Jed!” She wailed.

“I’m going to do everythin’ I can, Livy,” Quinton assured her, stepping around the table to gently pull her away from her husband.

The frightened faces of four other children, and a young woman, remained in the doorway. The youngest child couldn’t have been much older than five. The young woman stepped into the cabin, her eyes hard set on the doctor.

“You can save him, right? Please tell me you can,” she said, as she reached out and guided her mother out of the man’s arms.

“Like I told your momma, I’m gonna do what I can. I need you to keep her calm, and keep her out of the way so I can work. Can you do that f’ me, Zinnia?”

She nodded, holding her mother close as the woman sobbed. “I can. But you better save him. We…we can’t get on without him.”

In an instant, Livy Allen pulled away from her daughter, suddenly realizing the presence of a stranger in the room. She pointed her finger at the reverend, her hazel eyes wide with a wildness he’d only seen in the eyes of a caged animal.

“You. Yo-you’re him, ain’t you? The preacher?!”

Bob took a cautious step toward her, reaching a hand out, prepared to offer her comfort. She grabbed his arm in a death grip, her nails digging into his skin, even through the fabric of his shirt. “Say a prayer for him. You have to! I can’t lose my husband! I already lost my boy to the war! I can’t lose Jed, too!”

“Momma, let go,” Zinnia gently coaxed, trying to pry her away from the reverend. But Bob held his free hand up, signaling for her to wait, before he placed that same hand over Livy’s. He looked into the woman’s eyes, and at that moment, he fully realized the weight of responsibility that sat upon his shoulders.

What he said and did in these next few moments would shape the way these people saw him. It could either make or break his chance to have an impact on this community. He needed to garner the people’s trust if he was going to be any good to them at all.

He took a deep breath, nodding his head. “I will, dear sister. I will.”

Then he pulled the woman into his chest, holding her close, and he bowed his head. He prayed over her, asking the Almighty to bring her husband out of the valley of the shadow of death, to guide the doctor’s hands as he worked, and to give peace to her and her children.

When he breathed Amen, Livy had calmed considerably, and she pulled back to look up at the young preacher. “Thank you,” she whispered.

The spell was broken by Doctor McHone, who began barking orders as he prepared to tend to Jed. “If you can’t be of any help, clear the room!” He called. Then, he pointed a thick finger toward Bob and Mont. “You two, I need you both to hold him down.”

Bob hesitated, realizing that this was actually happening. It wasn’t an action scene from a film, or a tense chapter from a book. This was happening in real-time, and he had a decision to make.

His legs were moving before he even realized they were. He took his position at the top of the table, near Jed’s head, while Mont held onto his legs.

Bob watched the doctor intently, gaze following his every move. Everything else faded into the background. Jeb’s crying wife. His whimpering children.

Quinton set to work immediately, and as he prepared the area to extract the bullet, an all too familiar sensation came to life in Bob’s shoulder. An uncomfortable burning, a bone-deep ache. A pain he had not felt in a long time.

His mind drifted back to a time of his life that he’d tried so hard to forget. A moment in which his own foolishness had resulted in a bullet to the shoulder. A bullet that had been meant for his chest. Meant to take his life.

A strange sensation came over him then. A tightening in his chest. A residual tingle in his outer extremities. And as Doctor McHone began the process of extracting the bullet, and as Bob held down a thrashing, groaning man, he thought he was going to pass out.

Not from the sight of blood, nor from the intensity of the situation. But from a memory that he’d tried to keep buried in the depths of his mind.

He almost allowed himself to succumb to it, but managed to pull himself back into the moment. He’d be of no help if he was passed out cold on the floor. And it certainly wouldn’t do to have the reverend fainting during a moment when he was meant to be a pillar of strength and hope.

Much to his relief, Bob remained steady while the doctor worked, and the very second the procedure was finished, he stumbled back, not even waiting to hear the verdict of whether or not Jed would be okay. Instead, he turned to rush out of the cabin for a breath of much needed fresh air.

He made it out to the porch, taking in ragged lungfuls of mountain air as he went. His hands rested upon the porch banister. His eyes remained closed. He couldn’t do this. He wasn’t cut out for this. Coming here was a mistake.

Stop. Take a deep breath. Don’t let yourself panic. One breath in. Hold. One breath out. One breath in. Hold. One breath out.

He repeated this a few times, until he finally allowed himself to open his eyes and come back to the present. As he did so, he heard the sound of voices beside him. Or, namely, a singular voice, clear and sweet.

He turned, only to find Fairlight seated on the floor of the porch, surrounded by Jed’s children. As Bob began to calm down, he watched her comfort each and every one of those children. One arm was wrapped around young Will. The other around Zinnia, the eldest. The rest of the children were huddled close, listening as she softly sang a mountain melody to them, providing a welcome distraction from the sounds of distress and pain their father made.

“The cuckoo, she’s pretty,

She sings as she flies;

She bringeth good tidings,

She telleth no lies.

She sucketh white flowers

For to keep her voice clear.

And although she sings ‘cuckoo’,

The summer draws near…”

Bob stood there on that porch, in the middle of Appalachia, surrounded by trees and mountains and unfamiliar terrain, and he watched this young woman, who he’d only just met, calm an entire group of frightened children with just her voice.

He marveled at such a thing. But he also found that it had calmed him, too. His spiraling thoughts had been reduced to a quiet hum in his mind. That tightness in his chest was gone. The burning in his shoulder had ceased.

A moment of peace in an otherwise grim and uncertain situation. A sign from the Almighty that life wasn’t all bad. There was beauty to be found even in the ugliest of moments.

And somehow, he knew, as he gazed upon the flaxen-haired girl, that it was all going to be okay. He was cut out for this job. No matter how difficult or gruesome it was. He’d been placed here for a purpose. And he was going to fulfill that purpose.

Reverend Floyd had been called to care for the people of Backforty Gap. And that was exactly what he was going to do.

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