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moonbaby26 · 3 years

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Title: What the Heart Wants

Pairings: Young!Shota Aizawa x GN!Reader

Summary: You were a young hero in training, living in the United States. And when your high school offered an exchange internship to one of the hero agencies in Japan, you were first in line. But the last thing you expected was to fall for another of their young hopefuls.

Notes: Story features the other dumbigos as well. It’s implied that this story is just the reader reminiscing, and that the reader and Aizawa have been in an established relationship ever since.

Warnings: Mention of blood and a little battle damage, otherwise just superpowered teenage friends being pretty wholesome honestly.

My Masterlist

——————————

The first time you’d ever met the now pro hero Eraser Head, he hadn’t been much more than another teenager in over their head so much like yourself.

Back then you hadn’t known how to say no to anything either. While most of your classmates had been taking the typical internship offers from your state’s local hero agencies, you’d heard about a new exchange program abroad. And of course you’d jumped at the opportunity, anything to set yourself even one hair’s edge above the amazing competition.

Your Japanese had been terrible too honestly, so much so that you’d almost been afraid to speak for fear of ridicule once you reached Japan.

Luckily, the hero you were assigned to, Stunner Man was fluent in several languages. And his quirk was something akin to fireworks from his body at will, like a human flash bang. It greatly complimented your own quirk of consuming light energy to then expel it as energy blasts as well.

For the first few jobs together, you’d likely grown too confident and complacent because of this. It was all too easy to replace your own energy by drawing in that light from his fireworks. Sometimes to the point that all around you went dark, before then expelling the energy again as concentrated blasts from your hands to help incapacitate the small time villains you both ran across.

But then had come that rainy night and reports of a much stronger villain taking out actual teams of heroes somewhere downtown. Multiple agencies had responded to this of course, but your hero had been adamant about you staying behind. This was real danger he said, and it would be unheroic to let your desire for success blind you to your own inexperience. You would be a liability in the main battle, and you could be just as valuable assisting firemen and police in their efforts to evacuate the nearby apartment buildings instead.

Of course you were obedient, and so there you’d been, running up the stairs and through the corridors as fire alarms blared and people cried in panic in these high rise buildings. You’d put on your best act of confidence, directing the scared people to exits, asking them to mind their neighbors. You told them not to push, to please help those that were elderly or disabled, and that it would all be all right. Surely it would be because so many pro heroes were now on the job.

But just as you were almost done clearing the last floor at the top of that building, a terrible crash had sounded from far down the hall. Maybe debris breaking through from the nearby battle? You were cautious enough though to make sure that the police and firemen safely exited this floor entirely with the last civilians before you went to investigate.

You would make sure no one was left behind, that no one was hurt or trapped. But as you’d rounded the corner, in a glitter of broken glass and blood, that was where you’d first seen Shota Aizawa…Eraser Head.

He was only a sidekick you thought immediately though just from his age, so similar to your own. Yet he was already trying to get back to his feet even as you called out to him. The hole he’d come through in the large windows and the cracked wall around it were letting the rain now blow fiercely inside.

“Get back!” He’d yelled right back to you in Japanese however. As if he wasn’t losing blood all over the floor as you did pause brief enough to hear an odd humming sound outside even over the rain.

It was reflex of course. He hadn’t even been facing you, but the way he tensed you’d assumed what was going to happen only that fraction of a second before it did. Before whatever villain had just thrown him through this window attacked again, you’d used your energy reserves to make a shield of light between Shota and the broken windows and wall.

The blast that came through the hole had likely been intended to finish the boy. As it was, it still exploded violently against your force field, the recoil sending pain through your arms as you’d dug your boots into the floor beneath you as much as you could just to keep from being knocked backwards with the force.

You wouldn’t be able to take another direct strike like that without gathering more energy. And in the confusion as the blast did dissipate, you ran forward, grabbing the boy by the wrist. “Come on!”

You only saw the surprise in his reddened eyes for just a moment, the first time he’d really looked at you. His shaggy black hair was dripping on you from the rain before you both ran together.

“It’s going to get dark. Just hold on to me and trust me!” You spoke as you pulled your goggles down from off your head to cover your eyes in mid run. The goggles were a support item developed especially for you. In darkness you could switch between night-vision and thermal imaging to allow you to still see when your opponents and even teammates could not. And when you used your light abilities to discharge energy again, the opacity of the lenses darkened instantly to keep you from being blinded by the brightness of your own quirk as well.

As you both ran, you activated your quirk to draw energy from the artificial lighting in the hallway. True to your word, the whole hall became almost pitch black in short time. Your skin darkening to an inhuman shade as well as you used your power, a color akin to the lightless void now around you as you led him to a stairwell in the center of the building.

“Will the villain follow us in?” You asked as you closed the door, but making sure not to absorb all the light of the stairwell as well as you could still hear people making their way down to evacuate below. You knew you couldn’t stay in this place long. You had to protect these people you had already been trying to rescue as well. But information was always crucial to having a better chance at victory, and you needed anything that the boy could tell you quickly now.

As you lifted your goggles back up in the light of the stairwell, you were already trying to assess his wounds as well. But when you realized he was just staring at you, you finally made eye contact with him again just before he spoke.

“He’s more powerful out in the open.” The boy said. “So I don’t think he’ll follow us inside yet. But you’re assuming I’m a hero?” He sounded somewhat surprised? But the way he was looking you over, he was also trying to discern your quirk even in his own confusion.

“You told me to get back when I found you in the hallway, even though you were hurt.” You saw now that most of the blood was coming from his lower abdomen. A puncture wound maybe? “Who else would worry about others even when being attacked themselves?”

You saw his eyes widen a little at the sort of compliment, but you kept on. “And I’m sorry if I’m hard to understand. My name is (Y/N). I’m from the United States. Part of the intern exchange. I’m working for Stunner Man right now.”

“I can understand you.” He admitted. Though still looking at you in that odd way. “My name is Shota Aizawa.” He paused, seeming a little less confident, before he admitted his nickname. “Codename Eraser Head. I’m interning from the UA with His Purple Highness.”

“Oh,” You said, impressed truthfully, as that school’s hero course was obviously world renowned. But from the quizzical look you couldn’t help but show at his codename, he clearly had already discerned your next question.

He answered before you could ask, but even as he did you could tell he was already steeling himself for your disappointment. “I can erase others’ quirks just by looking at them.”

“You can…what?” You stared helplessly, for a moment almost forgetting your training to always be cool and collected as you tried to fathom what on earth this boy could really mean.

But he just stared back at you, was he that surprised at your reaction?

When he said nothing more, you had to shake away your shock to press further. “I’m sorry. This might be the language barrier again, but I need you to explain that to me please.”

Hero work could lead to unexpected team up situations at any time. And if this was to be one of those times, you both needed to know what you would be dealing with.

He frowned slightly, like he was having to talk more about himself than he was comfortable with. But he did comply. “If I activate my quirk while someone is in my direct line of sight, it inactivates theirs. But I can only do it for so long. Once I blink, or the line of sight is broken, their powers will come back.”

Silence hung between you for one long moment after his admission, and you could sense the tangible unease building in him.

You didn’t mean to make him jump either when you just blurted out. “That’s amazing!”

You still didn’t yell, but it was loud enough to be unexpected. But you couldn’t help it. You’d never heard of such a quirk. How could anyone be so powerful to make someone else quirkless just by looking at them!?

And why the hell did he look so self conscious about this? “You can’t be this modest. How are you not believing me that this is amazing!? I bet you only got thrown in here then because the rain obscured your vision, right!?” Your voice was quickening with your excitement. Your strategies to victory also readily multiplying in your brain. You could make a shield of light to push away the rain and Shota could look at the villain to make them helpless, then you could take them out with a subsequent light blast!

“My quirk has no offensive merit.” He deadpanned.

“Not every quirk has to!” You retorted, but maybe yourself now finally starting to understand a hint to his self conscious nature. “There are always multiple ways to win! Don’t they teach you that at UA?”

“We need to get moving,” He grumbled still in resistance to this subject. “People could be being killed out there.”

He wasn’t wrong you knew, as you nodded. “I’m sorry. I was just trying to gather information.” Which fair was fair as you tried to keep your own explanation as straight forward as you could.

“As you saw, my quirk is that I can absorb visible light energy. It doesn’t matter what kind. I darken everything as I absorb the light around me. I can store it inside myself, then discharge it when I’m ready, to make force fields for defense…or light blasts for offense or distraction to blind opponents.” Like everyone though, there was always still a catch as you continued. “But the weakness is that once I’ve discharged what I have, I’m tapped out until I can absorb more light. Which, at night in a rainstorm like this…there’s not much to be had.”

He was mostly stone faced as he listened to you though. But there was an analytic sharpness to his eyes, like you were inputting information into a human calculator before abruptly he tried to walk back away from you as if to continue up the stairs.

“I have a plan then,” He announced quietly, his back already to you again.

As much as you somehow believed him already though, you grabbed his hand before he could get much farther. “And whatever that plan is, we still won’t be much help to anyone if you faint from blood loss.”

It was obvious he was someone not used to being touched, you could tell that from the instant way he stilled and looked back at you.

But you didn’t weaken at the stare, only offering him a slight smile. “I’ve been trained in emergency first aid as well. There are first aid kits all through this stairway.” You’d passed them on the way up. “I’ll be quick, alright?”

————————————

The logical side of him must have won out that night in that stairwell. He’d known you were right about at least stopping his bleeding. But that was the real beginning you thought. This odd relationship that would keep its hold on you both for so many years to come.

Him, still so skinny then and self conscious, quiet and awkward as he’d sat on one of the stairs, holding his shirt up so you could clean and disinfect the wound just above his belt while you kneeled in front of him. Luckily the injury was not as deep as it could have been. Just too wide to close or clot on its own as you’d wrapped his abdomen with the appropriate bandages after cleaning out the debris.

And you kept your word, you still weren’t negligent of your duty as a hero in training even then. You didn’t waste any time at all, being as quick and efficient as you could while working on him. But even if all your training told you to also keep your mind on the mission at hand, you’d still felt that warmth in you.

The intimacy was practical, professional. But it still had its effect as you’d run your fingers across his abdomen to finish securing the bandage. You felt him tremble just for the slightest moment, and then it was over. His shirt was back down and he was standing again.

He’d only muttered a quick “Thank you,” as you’d both headed for the roof to execute his plan.

And still only being teenagers then, the clumsiness of your yelling and waving to attract the villain’s attention again would be something you’d both have been embarrassed about now. But at the time, you’d really both done rather well considering your low experience levels.

That villain of course hadn’t been the only villain that night. The main heroes had had their hands full with the other, stronger one at the heart of downtown. This one had been more like the sidekick really, just trying to keep on the outskirts to run interference and keep even more heroes from joining the fray for his boss.

He’d picked off Shota earlier he thought, so he was easy to get worked up when he realized Aizawa was now back for more.

But that villain had drawn his power from the difference of electrical charges in the air. Obviously then at an even greater advantage over the two of you with the thunderstorm above. But the trick had only been avoiding his electrical blasts, but drawing the light energy from them enough times to eventually surprise him with a big enough blast in return.

There’d been a few miscues of course, as well as you using your shielding to protect Shota all the while trying not to get hit either before you could finally land that big enough return hit to stun the villain. Then Shota binding him up in his scarf like weapon and removing the enemy’s quirk long enough to deliver a decisive knockout kick to the villain’s head.

It was your first ever victory as a team.

—————————————

And it’d been a bit of a whirlwind afterward. The congratulations and acknowledgement from your respective heroes for the small, but positive role you had both played of course. But more personally for you, you had owed so much to one of Shota’s best friends you had met immediately in the hustle and bustle afterward.

Oboro Shirakumo, otherwise known as Loud Cloud had been there immediately, ecstatic to hear the story of Shota’s and your success. His extroverted and effervescent personality such a direct opposite to Aizawa’s quiet nature. But Oboro had been the one seemingly so excited to learn you were from the United States as well.

He’d insisted that he, Shota, and their fellow UA student and other best friend, Hizashi Yamada (codename Present Mic) show you the real young hero life in Japan before you would leave again in the coming weeks.

Without Oboro’s intervention, there was likely no way otherwise you would have gotten to see the shy Aizawa so many times again after that night.

As a group the four of you had gone to malls, out to eat, and to see the touristy sights you likely never would have gone to alone. They didn’t even make fun of your bad Japanese, well not seriously anyway. Hizashi did a few times, but in a way that had you laughing with him as he teasingly walked you through a few pronunciations you’d butchered yet again.

On your last night in Japan, you’d been feeling a little sad really though as you’d wished you had gotten to speak to Shota a little more one on one. Even though he’d accompanied you all on your excursions together in those few weeks, you still had noticed how little he really talked and how often he seemed to always be looking away from you.

In the end you just had to think you were being silly for the way you’d felt in the stairwell with him briefly that night and how often you’d thought of him ever since. You’d probably never see him again you knew.

That night though you’d all gone to a park together that met the beach and ocean. Oboro was insistent that you needed to see the view of the sea there before you flew back to the United States the next morning.

Oboro had made one of his clouds, taking just the two of you up high into the air. As Shota and Hizashi still on the ground grew smaller and smaller, you did look away to the horizon and the starlit ocean beyond. It was beautiful of course.

But what Oboro said next, made you forget all about that view entirely.

“He likes you you know. He just doesn’t know what to do about it.” The blue haired boy said as if it was as simple a truth as saying the sun would come up tomorrow.

Your head turned immediately, just to see Oboro smiling at you in an almost conspiring way. “And you feel the same don’t you?” He asked you. “You look at him the same way he looks at you.”

“He doesn’t look at me!” You blurted, stupidly protesting as if your stomach wasn’t already trying to tie itself into a knot.

But Oboro just laughed, that genuine, happy one you’d heard from him so many times already. “Well he knows what to do with his eyes doesn’t he? He has practice. Of course he doesn’t let you catch him staring!”

So many emotions ran through you at once then. Embarrassment at your naivety, sadness that you still had to be leaving the country regardless, shock that this could even be true, and….frustration that you would just be being told now!?

“I’m leaving tomorrow, Oboro. Why would you even tell me this now!?” You asked somewhat desperately, but still keeping your voice down in your escalating panic.

He raised his hands innocently, yet unafraid of you either way. “Hizashi and I have been encouraging him as much as we could to speak up, but Shota is like those stories where an unstoppable force meets an immovable object…but in this story both are Shota!”

You stared, the absurdity only mounting at his words.

He chuckled, looking a little embarrassed then. “He’s quite stubborn is what I mean? And he says it’s pointless because you’ll be thousands of miles away. And I said that’s what phones, email, and video calling are for! Of course conversation is not one of his better skills…”

“Oh, man” You sighed, yet trying to think in your nervousness. “Did he send you to tell me all this? Or does he even know we’re having this conversation right now?”

The boy just shook his head. “He didn’t tell me to, and I didn’t ask his permission, no. He would have only told me not to. But sometimes heroes have to do what heroes have to do, right?” A kind look overtook his face again. “I want to see him smile sometime. He actually has a nice smile you know. I think I’ve seen it all of twice,” Oboro joked.

And it was true, it’s not like Shota was cruel or anything. But he didn’t smile, he didn’t laugh. It was like he was always afraid to perhaps. You weren’t really sure yet. You hadn’t known him long enough. But surely Oboro and Hizashi had. You should at least be able to trust that they had made a correct assessment of their friend’s feelings.

“Well…” You hesitated. “If I told him I wanted to stay in contact…do you think he’d actually call or write me?” You looked at Oboro imploringly, unsure if it would hurt more to try this and be rejected later anyway if you still never heard from him again.

“I can only promise you that we’ll try to keep him from screwing up if it’s only his fear that’s holding him back. We all have to overcome fear in one way or another if we’re going to be pros one day.” He smirked then, before looking a little more boastful. “You know, when Shota, Hizashi, and I graduate, we’re going to start our own hero agency. I’m sure by then if you wanted to come and do some more work in Japan, we could make a space for you too. I’d be a bad manager to turn down foreign talent you know.”

He did seem so sincere, you couldn’t help but smile back at him. “I’ll talk to Shota. But, whatever happens, thank you for trying to help either way.”

Oboro gave an exaggerated thumbs up with, what honestly you were guessing was his best imitation of an All Might type grin. “Of course! Plus Ultra! Always!”

———————————

It was something how quickly Oboro and Hizashi got themselves out of sight, now just you and Shota on the beach together. Yet you suspected they may still be in earshot somewhere in the distance. No doubt painfully curious of how this would go and silently cheering their best friend on.

At first you were afraid that Shota was angry actually, the way he’d visibly bristled, shooting his friends’ quite unhappy stares before they’d left as he fully realized what was about to happen.

But he didn’t ignore you, nor did he look away from you this time as you got closer to hopefully speak a little more privately. “I’m sorry if this is…weird.” You started awkwardly. “But I don’t think you should be too hard on your friends either. It’s obvious they really care about you.”

Your foot was kind of shifting in the sand. Nervousness still flowing freely as you just kept on. “But I’d still like to hear it from you…if you’re wanting to keep in touch. If you want to get to know me better, I’d like that…so…um-” Ah, this would be awful at any time, but stumbling over words you’d only recently learned made it all the worse. “So is it true, Shota? Do you want to keep talking after I’m back home…maybe I can come back again though…I’d like to see you again…I really would.”

He was silent at first, but he was clearly listening. Intently, as if analyzing your every movement, your every word.

But it was painful how long you had to wait for a response. Surely it wasn’t really as long as it felt though before he finally responded. His voice surprisingly even, almost emotionless?

“You’ll be a successful hero if you keep to your studies and training. I find it unlikely that you wouldn’t be able to start at any agency of your choosing in the United States once you graduate.”

A huge compliment to be sure, as you stared at him in surprise. But what did that have to do with the subject at hand? Was he trying to avoid your questioning entirely?

Yet his eyebrows lowered before you could interrupt as he kept on. “So I don’t understand why you would ever want to come back to Japan longterm where your reputation would have to be built back up again just to get equivalent job offers to what you could attain already in the US. The one instance with capturing the villain at that apartment complex isn’t enough for top placement at the agencies here in Japan. Especially without UA accreditation on your record. You would be putting yourself at a disadvantage to be here. It would be a mistake for your career.”

You could swear you almost heard a groan from somewhere in the distance. If you’d put your goggles on now, you were sure you’d probably see Oboro and Hizashi hanging on every word, wherever they were hiding to eavesdrop in the dark.

But your brain was also quite busy trying to digest the most words you’d ever heard from Shota at one time. Was this his excuse to reject you more lightly? To say he was only thinking of your career?

Of course he was under no obligation to feel anything for you. You knew there were certainly those with more powerful or interesting quirks than your own, or people more physically attractive. You weren’t anything amazing in your own mind compared to all the potential superstars you interacted with on a daily basis back home.

Yet if he didn’t feel how you did, you wanted to hear it outright instead of buried in a confusing way like this, and you couldn’t help but admit so then. “So you think I shouldn’t ever want to date you because it could make me spend too much time in Japan and not become as famous as I could have been otherwise? Nice that you assume working at a top tier agency is the only thing I would care about for my future….”

Perhaps you did come across a little harsher than you intended, but the way his normally tired looking eyes suddenly widened in shock had you realizing you had definitely brought some sort of emotion out of him at last with those words.

“You…wanted to…date me?” He uttered the words as if he never would have expected that combination of syllables to ever leave his mouth.

Well, you never would have been so forward if you didn’t feel he forced your hand with that strange insinuation of saying your personal choices should all be tied to a need for future fame and fortune.

You put one hand on your hip, trying not to sound as dumb as he was making you feel in this moment. “Well, not like tomorrow or anything. We’d need to get to know each other some more of course. But yes, I thought about it a lot these last few weeks. But if you didn’t like me like that, then friends is fine. I was hoping that was what we were going to talk about here. If you…liked me like that or not.”

Oh Lord, was this high school like it should be or was this elementary playground kind of drama? You didn’t have enough experience to be any more adult about this. But it was a yes or no type of question wasn’t it? Either he felt some sort of interest and attraction like you did, or he didn’t. You just needed to know.

“I…think you’re talented. And capable.” He said, like it was taking so much just to do this.

It was maddening somehow though. Could he not just say he felt nothing if that was the case? Was he so afraid of hurting your feelings? But honestly, he didn’t seem the type to ever mince words either. “Shota…” You tried. “You know you don’t have to worry about sparing my feelings. All you have to say is that you’re not interested. I’m not some delicate flower.”

Yet, you were starting to feel guilty yourself. Maybe this was all wrong, trying to force him out of his comfort zone too much. You should just take a hint right?

When he still said nothing more, your stomach finally sank as you stepped back from him a little again. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to know the truth, so I didn’t have to worry wondering later. If I’m not your type that’s okay. I appreciate you taking the time to try and talk to me like this.”

Oboro must have been wrong. That was all it could be. His friends had seen something that wasn’t there, and then pushed it this far in a sincere, but misguided attempt to help their friend.

But the let down still hurt. In the span of a short time, Oboro had gotten your hopes up and then they’d crashed down again. You’d been able to admit your feelings to Shota, just for it to end up as one sided.

Or so you thought.

You started to walk away, not wanting to be further embarrassed if the disappointment in your face had really started to show.

But you froze as soon as you felt his shockingly quick hand grab around your wrist. The memory of you doing the same to him in the apartment complex flashed through your mind.

“I didn’t say you weren’t my type…not that I’ve had a type before.” He spoke, but not in his usual even tone as you looked back at him.

And that was likely the very first time you’d ever seen a little bit of fear in his expression. He was still holding your wrist tightly, but it was like he didn’t know what else to say. He didn’t know how to express whatever it was that he was really thinking.

“Eraser really is that bad at this! Just run with it, (Y/N)!” Hizashi’s voice boomed in the distance even if he was only partially using his quirk. The vibration startling you both as Shota immediately shot a death glare in that direction, his hair levitating as he activated his quirk as if trying to lock on to Present Mic even in the dark.

And you couldn’t help it then, slipping your wrist out of Shota’s grip at his distraction, but just as quickly clasping your hand warmly around his own instead as you used your quirk to absorb some of the ambient starlight. It created a dark spot on the beach between the two of you and the others, just enough that Oboro and Hizashi would no longer be able to see. Though Shota would still be able to see you as you chose to take a risk, leaning in enough to kiss his pale cheek.

His hair fell back down at that very personal touch, the red glow also leaving his eyes as he looked back to you.

But you couldn’t read him then. You weren’t sure at all what would happen.

Yet he was still human wasn’t he? Even as stoic and calculating of a person as you’d ever met, he was still human, and still young then with that touch of recklessness you all had deep down.

And when you felt his lips touch yours not long afterward, it was as clumsy as could be expected for teenagers. But you didn’t care at all as you easily returned the kiss.

You knew immediately then that you would be coming back to Japan as soon as you could. Your goal was still to be a pro hero, but it didn’t really matter where.

A true hero’s spirit came from the heart. And if your heart ended up in Japan…who were you to tell it no?

———————————

(End for now. ❤️ I will likely write more of this pairing, but not sure of how soon. Thank you for reading!)

#shota aizawa #shouta aizawa #shota aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa x you #shota aizawa x you #shouta x reader #eraser head #shouta x you #eraserhead #shouta x y/n #eraser head x reader #eraser head x you #my hero fanfic #my hero x reader #my hero academy fanfiction #my hero academia #my hero imagines

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earnestly-endlessly · 3 years

Note

I love your fic recs! Do you have any with Protective!Erik?

Protective! Erik is one of my favourite tropes so I have a TON of fics to share with you. I hope you enjoy them as much as I do.

Protective! Erik fic recs

Erik Lehnsherr's Guide to Saving the Universe By Meeting Your Soul-Mate and Falling in Love in Less than 72 Hours – madneto, Pangea

Summary: Army Pilot Erik Lehnsherr is just trying to enjoy his day off when a mostly naked person crashes through the roof of his car. Even more alarming, the strange falling naked person—who goes by Charles Xavier when he's not speaking an ancient dead language—brings tidings of the apparent potential end of the world, and begs Erik to help him put a stop to it.

Well. His mother has been nagging at him to go out and meet new people.

In Sound and Silence – endingthemes

Summary: Erik is assigned to care for the special patient in room 301.

How Not To Meet Your Future Boyfriend – ikeracity

Summary: Erik punches Charles in the face the first time they meet. There isn't anywhere their relationship can go from there but up.

Forgotten – FuryRed

Summary: Charles is having a really bad day. Not only has he woken up in the middle of the afternoon with no idea where he is or how he got there, but when he returns home he’s confronted by a stranger with intense eyes, who insists that he knows Charles rather more intimately than Charles remembers…

Thou Shalt Not Eat Stones – valancysnaith

Summary: Two months after Washington, Raven found Erik in a skeevy motel off the Florida interstate.

“They have Charles, Erik,” she said.

The bedframe shrieked. In the bathroom, the showerhead snapped in half and clattered into the tub.

Demoted – JayPendragon

Summary: Erik Lehnsherr is a detective-specialist with the NYPD Mutant Tactical Unit, ready to help out where his skills are needed. Or he would be, if he and his partner hadn’t been demoted. For the next four months, he is patrolling the Lenox Hill precinct with Azazel – if he doesn’t die of boredom first. One night they are called in to investigate a potential case of domestic violence, yet the tenant assures them he is both alone and unharmed. However, there is something about this Charles Xavier that compels Erik to follow up.

Warning: Sensitive material, domestic abuse and dubious consent

Watch Your Back – swoopswoop

Summary: Bodyguard AU where Erik is overly protective and things aren't as simple as they seem.

If We Met Differently – swoopswoop

Summary: Erik wasn't the only mutant 'taken in' by Shaw, Erik learns this the hard way when a new mutant is dropped into his cell. They manage to escape together, but things aren't all roses after that. Erik has a score to settle and needs to make sure Charles is safe.

The Color of Love (Character Swap Remix) – BadLuckBlueEyes

Summary: Nobody sees in color until they meet their soulmates. When your soulmate dies, your vision returns to black and white. What happens when your soulmate only dies for a few minutes?

Omega Online – miss_aphelion

Summary: Newly imprinted Charles is having trouble dealing with his overly protective alpha—so in desperation he seeks advice in an omega chat room. Emma Frost is more than happy to help, Raven isn't helping at all, and Erik can't stand to be out of touch with Charles for more than five minutes at a time.

Cannot be Contained in Words – wallhaditcoming (uvcatastrophe)

Summary: Crime syndicate head Erik Lehnsherr travels to London on business, where he meets oxford student Charles Xavier. Their liaison spawns into a years long transatlantic affair, kept apart by Erik's work and Charles' studies,which Erik chronicles in photographs. When distance ceases to be an issue after four long years, the overlap between Charles' past and Erik's work create a whole new set of complications.

A Pertinent Reminder – ikeracity, Pangea

Summary: Sometimes it's easy to forget that getting involved in Erik's mob business isn't all fine dining and sex on yachts. There's nothing like taking a couple of bullets to remind Charles of the reality.

Part 3 of the Associates series

A Dangerous Game – ikeracity, pangea

Summary: When a familiar enemy of Erik's returns to the city for some old-fashioned revenge, Charles is sucked deeper into the world of the mob than ever before.

Part 6 of the Associates series

You don’t choose the thug life (except when you do) – Anonymous

Summary: Charles is kidnapped and discovers that Erik, the Alpha he has been dating for the past few months and is head-over-heels for, is not just a wealthy businessman but actually the head of a syndicate.

He is rather unhappy about this discovery and Erik gets an earful for lying to him. Then Charles is kidnapped again and really, he hopes mating Erik won't result in weekly kidnapping because he has a thesis to finish and papers to grade.

Marrying a Mob – Ook

Summary: Charles is a teacher at a very exclusive school. When armed men burst in on the trail of two children, of course he stands up to them and gets hurt. The children are Erik Lehnsherr's children (of course); a "prominent businessman" or, less politely, "mobster".

Erik is grateful to Charles for saving his children's lives at the cost of his kneecap. So very grateful.

Naturally he tries to reward Charles for his actions. Equally naturally, Charles will be having none of that.

Azazel finds the whole thing unspeakably hilarious. Naturally.

Rumor Has It – blueink3

Summary: "Did I hear the doorbell earlier?"

"Yeah, but I'd steer clear if I were you. It seemed a little tense. I don't know what's going on, but there's a kid out there who looks freakily like the prof."

Nearly six months after Cuba, Charles' life is turned upside down for the second time. Though he's slowly learning to adapt to the first, he's not sure he can handle the second. Luckily for him, there are a few people out there more than willing to help.

Forward Momentum – AsYouWish

Summary: Six months after Cuba, Charles and Erik find themselves thrown fifty years into the future, where they meet their older selves, the Avengers, and a world that's very different from their own. Faced with the pieces of their broken relationship, an unparalleled adversary, and dealing with Tony Stark on a daily basis, Charles and Erik do their best to adapt while trying to find a way back home -- and to each other.

Runs in the Family – Anonysquirrel (chibirisuchan)

Summary: Alex knew his own reputation. Hell, he'd started some of his own reputation, because it kept some of the smarter thugs off his back. Everyone knew Alex's reputation. There was no way Hank didn't know his reputation, but he'd brought Alex into a house with some really expensive things and a lot of innocent little kids and his too-friendly, too-harmless dad.

But clearly Hank hadn't told his family anything about Alex, just like he hadn't told Alex anything about his family. At least, not about the brain-breaking parts of his family.

"I didn't know where to start," Hank said, for the dozenth time.

Featuring mpreg!Charles in a Kiss The Cook apron, overprotective!Erik in wet black leather, and baked goods. Lots and lots of baked goods.

Round the Corner Waiting – swoopswoop

Summary: When things go so spectacularly wrong during a relationship, Charles - now a single dad - almost makes a big mistake, only to be stopped by a mysterious man who just might turn his life back around.

Hide Your Fires – swoopswoop

Summary: As the sole heir, Prince Charles, had no problem with the roles and responsibility that would come with ruling a kingdom. Though he was the only one who did not see a problem. After years of being shuttled back and forth between kingdoms, his Regent hoping he would find a match more suitable to being King, he is finally sent to Genosha. Though the path has never been less clear than the one to a foreign kingdom with no ties to his native land.

Shaw’s Captive – swoopswoop

Summary: Magneto killed Shaw, it had to be done for the sake of mutant-kind but what he wasn't expecting to find hidden deep with Shaw's complex was a man held captive, obviously tortured, that somehow made Magneto turn into Erik.

Erik now has a potential human in his citadel as he continues the war with the human's.

Mind’s Eye Blind – Sperare

Summary: As far as Erik is concerned, if you want to scare a person into talking, you have to present him with something more compelling than what he stands to lose...

And there is nothing in the world more compelling than Charles.

Chipped – Rosawyn

Summary: Magneto's fledgling Brotherhood find Charles Xavier in a mutations research lab as an apparently willing subject for an experimental suppression device.

Okay, I Feel Better Now – Harleydoll

Summary: The AU in which Erik is sent to a mental health facility after being convicted for Shaw's murder and pleads insanity, and Charles is his paranoid schizophrenic of a roommate. Powers, Hellfire conspiracies, protective!Erik, and of course the inevitable angst.

Five Nights in Nuremberg – FuryRed

Summary: When Charles escapes from the mutant prison he has been held in for the last two years he knows that he’s going to need help to avoid being recaptured.

What he doesn’t expect is that help will come in the form of a mysterious German man who rescues Charles and takes him to his home; a handsome stranger who, frustratingly, doesn’t speak a single word of English…

Five Bullet Points – Sperare

Summary: It was supposed to be Erik locked away in a prison one hundred stories below the ground.

Charles was never supposed to be there with him.

Notes: Unfinished but an excellent read. Highly recommend it.

Stolen – ishipitsobad

Summary: Erik is a miserable, grumpy, cantankerous bastard, and he has every fucking right to be. He drew the short end of the stick when he got the Underworld as his domain, and there isn't very much fun to be had in judging and governing dead souls who would rather be anywhere else but with Erik in the depths of Hell.

So when he meets Charles, brilliant and lovely Charles who is more popularly known amongst the mortals as Persephone, and feels the promise of something wonderful that could make his eternally doomed existence infinitely more bearable... you can bet all your drachmas Erik's not going to let Charles go any fucking time soon.

My Barbaric Darling – baehj2915

Summary: Erik is revivified caveman. Charles is the anthropologist(?) taking care of him. This is as ridiculous as it sounds. Romcom misunderstandings and prehistoric wooing ensues.

Swimming with Sharks – Not_You

Summary: Erik used to be a shark. Now he's not, and has to figure out how to be a good human father to his twins. Charles is willing to help.

Eucalyptus leaf of my soul - kageillusionz, ourgirlfriday

Summary: Zookeeper Raven at Taronga Zoo keeps having ideas on how to capitalize on interest in the zoo mascots, Koala Charles and Drop Bear Erik (the only drop bear in captivity!), who have captured the hearts and minds of the public. First it was to introduce prospective mates (It’ll generate attention, Hank. People are perverts. They’d love to see koala porn.). This idea was not effective the first through fifth attempts, as Erik and Charles seemed to show at best polite interest in the newcomer before resuming whatever marsupial debate they had going. However, the resulting lesbian koala orgies did indeed generate interest. Then Raven unveiled the Hug-A-Koala program, which was successful, as the public showed great interest in hugging Charles, and Charles seemed to enjoy being hugged.

Then Raven unveiled the Hug-A-Drop Bear program, and Hank, not for the first time, wished he had a flask handy.

Notes: Yes, they’re Koalas, yes they’re adorable, and yes, Erik is super protective even as a Drop Bear.

#cherik #cherik fic recs #fic recs #protective Erik #long post

199 notes · View notes

mariamermaid · 3 years

Text

The Heir of Silberstein; schwarzes Schicksal (ch. 4)

“Black Fate”

Fred Weasley x Reader

Summary: As a new school year approaches in Hogwarts, the students are surprised when Dumbledore introduces a group of German siblings joining the school. The royal family of fortress Silberstein is now sent to Hogwarts to learn the matters of a normal teenager life. …

Words: 5.6k

A/N: There will be one more chapter/ some kind of epilogue coming on next Thursday! In this chapter are a few more mentions of blood and violence. Also, it´s explaining a lot more regarding the war.

Masterlist

10th of May, 1933; the local library of Baden-Baden. Queen Clara the second, drifted through the rows in the back of the library on the hunt about another book about specific herbs to heal magical creatures. Among the muggles, she was just another resident coming to visit. Obviously, they were unaware of her origin and especially of the wand pressing against her hip underneath the long coat. Time had flown and evening was coming, it was already dark outside. A little startled, she shivered before packing the two books under her arm and leaving the library. As she stepped out, she pulled the headscarf deeper down to her face, her Pegasus was waiting a few streets down on the roof of the Stiftskirche, the local church. She had to hurry to come home as the nights were still cold, but loud screams made her stop. Quickly, she hid in an alley while lurking towards the yard in front of the library. A couple of men in military uniforms, she counted at least 30 of them, made their way towards the library. Only few people tried to stop them before they eventually entered the library. The men who did try, were thrown to the side, even beaten and punched to make sure they wouldn´t impede again. Clara gasped, pushing her hand over her mouth. The group separated and within only a few minutes, they had created a small pyre and the other half, came outside carrying boxes of books. She peered a little closer until she was able to decipher a few of the titles; all books written by Jewish authors.

Tears started forming in her eyes and she stumbled a little backwards, further into the alley, taken back by the heartbreaking scene. She almost let out a scream, when her back suddenly bumped into someone. Luckily, it was Mr. Landauer, a fellow wizard living in Baden-Baden, and, a Jew.

He nodded with his head as a sign of courtesy, before his eyes wandered towards the fire as well.

“We have to be careful, my Queen. Protect your subjects and warn the king. War is coming.”

His voice was low and barely a whisper, an unusual sight of the polite Mr. Landauer. Goosebumps crawled down her spine and Clara could barely form a nod.

“You should come to the Castle with your family, we can protect you.” The worries in her eyes were clearly written, but Mr. Landauer barely shrugged.

“I thank you for the offer, my Queen. But you have to keep going now.” Biting her lip, Clara nodded before hurrying into the darks of the city towards the church. While she climbed up the bell tower with her heart beating in all of her limbs, a man in uniform stepped outside the library. His short cut hair was pulled back under a cap. In his arms a box of books, which looked awfully boring and innocent. But he knew that at a second glance, they had hidden messages. Messages only wizards could read and his hatred burned bright as he starred into the pile of books on the pyre…

The Night of broken glass had been the starting point in 1938. The annihilation of Jews began and with that, came the slowly but surely assault towards the German wizards. No history books or humans had experienced anything similar.

Oberst (german for colonel) Richter was a highly qualified military leader, but deep beneath the weapons he shouldered in the sight of the coming war, laid something else. Something dark and very surreptitious, no one was aware of what would follow after the 9th of November in 1938. Synagogues and shopping malls were burning. Graveyards, schools and residences of Jews, all burning and being destroyed. It was Hitler´s antisemitism that led to the catastrophe of the minority of the Jews. But Richter, who technically stood beneath Hitler´s commando, followed his very personal goals; the annihilation of wizards.

Driven by deep rooted racism, he declared the wizards as harbingers of the devil. Satan himself sent out his adjutants to bring an end to the world. A world the Nazis fought very hard to make their own. So, the clear conclusion was to exterminate the wizards to make room for the antisemitic ways of new Germany.

March 1944

“We shouldn’t have gotten involved”, Karl sighed, his hand running through his messed up and slightly sweaty hair.

“What does it matter now?” He paused, but then nodded agreeing. It was all useless.

“You´re right, Clara. They´re safe and that´s all that matters now.”

They starred at the blank wall in front of them, the room was completely empty.

They were alone, but their thoughts remained with the train that left the station in the very mean-time, the wagons were filled by Jews or wizards, who feared the Nazis. Kind Karl and Queen Clara had united their powers to bring together a full train for them to flee in.

The cost; their own life.

The royal couple was captured in order to protect and cover more refugees, so they could reach the train in time. A few tears fell from their cheeks as they remembered their own children, who would grow up without parents. But they remained safely within the new protected realm of Silberstein; no muggle was ever to find the castle again.

A loud slam of the door let them shiver and Oberst Richter entered the room. It wasn´t a prison cell, but offered the same purpose. Both of their wands had been destroyed and Clara was shot in the side, where blood stained her clothes. Oberst Richter hair was still pulled back and Clara remembered how she had first seen him in front of the library years ago. He looked even more cold and cruel now. The room was filled with deadly gas, not enough to entirely kill them, but enough to weaken them and more so their magical abilities. They were left defenseless. Richter wore a gas mask, hiding half of his face but his eyes were still showing and they reflected all the hatred that burned on his inside…

King Karl and Queen Clara were killed on that day in march, but they left behind two young children. Those two siblings later had a child each, and the first born; Michael, then became the father of four children…

Silberstein was only minutes away now; you could almost smell the scent of horses and pinecones. Fred and George flew a few feet behind you, letting you lead the way. The forest laid beneath them and high firs offered them cover. Suddenly, the two Weasley brothers felt like flying through a spiderweb, like a veil brushing against their skin and then they saw it;

The fortress of Silberstein.

The high tower was the first thing to make out, even in the dark of the night, it looked light and almost shimmering under the starlight. With a wave of your hand, you signalized them to fly closer to the ground, until you landed at the edge of the forest. The castle sat on a hill and the river separated half of the property from the woodland. “If we fly further, they´ll see us coming”, you explained quietly as the three of you snuck through the thicket.

“You´re the princess, shouldn´t they be on your side?” George asked curiously and you shrugged sadly.

“We don´t know on which side the employees are, they´re muggles, some house elves. Many of them are squibs, descendants of once wizard families but with no ability to control or perform magic.”

You nodded towards the stone wall, which faced towards the river side. “There is a secret passage to enter through the tunnels and dungeons.”

“Great, so we´ll just apparate-“

“You can´t apparate within our realm.”

The twins starred at you; shock clearly written on their faces. “The protection spells were created to keep unknown magic out, I don´t make the rules. Now take my hands.”

Fred eyed you carefully, while his brother grabbed your hand without hesitation. “Are you sure that you can handle this?” You huffed, but a glint of nervousness was seen in your eyes.

“Yes.”

The familiar feeling of your stomach turning and twisting took out your breath, and you stumbled a little backwards, when landing on the ground again. Fred was behind you, his hands grabbing your waist and keeping you from further falling. You shook your head, ignoring his continuous worried stare. “I´m fine.”

The twins eyed the stone tunnel they found themselves in. It was dark, the exit of the tunnel laid to their right and even though a metal grid separated the hallway to the cliffs and the underlying river, they heard the loud rushing and the water crashing against the stone. George had his wand ready in his hand; “Lumos.”

You led the group deeper into the tunnel system, several paths and junctions passing. “Do you remember the way?” George asked whispering. Tension was clearly hanging in the air. None of you knew what to expect. The stone was cold and the air was moist from the river water. But to you, it brought back a nostalgic feeling from your childhood.

“My siblings and I used to play hide and seek in these tunnels. I can tell them apart, even if you´d blindfold me.”

“Where does the tunnel end?” Fred asked, his eyes wandering back and forth in paranoia, making sure no one was following you.

“This one leads the closest into the castle; into the storage room behind the kitchens to be exact. There is also one ending at the well, at the armory and a few others.”

A nervous laughter escaped the twin´s mouth. “Love the emphasis on fortress; it´s not even that big!” You chuckled at their comment, but then you reached the end of the tunnel and silence settled again. With your wand, you tapped against the stone wall, the pattern was memorized in your head. Then the individual stones started turning, until a passage was revealed. The room you entered was equally dark as the tunnel, but you could quickly made out shelves with food and bags of wheat, the smell of fresh bread and pumpkins as big as heads.

“We´ll go through the kitchens and use the back hallways leading up to-.”

The sound of steps approaching made you abruptly stop. “Quick, hide!” You advised the twins, who disappeared behind large shelves on their own. They had snuck through Hogwarts enough, well past curfew, to know how to vanish into nothing but air.

“Nox!”

The steps stopped right in front of the storage room, lingering. You found your hideout closest to the door and watched how a mere light shone from the slot beneath. The door opened, slowly and carefully, you held your breath, the wand steady in your hand. The light fled the room and you lunged out, but stopped in your tracks as you came face to face with an old friend.

“Theresa”, you breathed barely audible. The twins lurked out from their hideouts, not sure if they should show their presence just yet. Your wand was pointed right at her and the lamp in her hand was shaking.

“Ich habe gehofft, dass du kommen würdest”, she admitted quietly and ignored the wand. (I hoped that you would come.)

Your eyebrows furrowed and you felt your jaw tensing.

“Auf welcher Seite stehst du?“ (On which side are you on?)

“Wenn du das fragst, weißt du genug um den Ernst der Lage zu verstehen.“ (If you ask that question, you know how serious the situation is.)

„Das war nicht meine Frage.“ (That wasn´t my question.)

She sighed and lowered the lamp a little to her hip height.

“Ich war immer auf deiner Seite, wir sind aufgewachsen wie Schwestern.“ (I´ve always been on your side, we grew up like sisters.)

Finally, you lowered your wand as well. She was right, she and her mother had been serving the royal family even before your birth and so often, you two had played with dolls together. A sigh of relief escaped your lips and you pushed yourself a step forward, your arms quickly embracing her.

“Merlin sei Dank, bist du endlich hier!” She whispered, hugging you tightly back. (Merlin bless, you´re finally here!)

“Wie schlimm steht es?” (How bad is it?)

„Gerade noch genügend Zeit.“ (Just enough time left.)

The twins slowly stepped out and Theresa gasped in surprise. “I brought reinforcements.” You grinned at her and she nodded at the brothers.

“This is Fred and George, they´re friends from Hogwarts.”

“I´m Theresa, I grew up with Y/N and served her as a maid my entire life”, Theresa introduced herself. Even though she was older, she was small and petite. Mouse-gray hair neatly put together and her maid uniform sitting perfectly. The twins noticed her thick German accent, you barely showed signs of an accent and only few words sounded off, when you spoke. They often forgot that English wasn´t your native language.

“Theresa, I have to see my father.” You turned back towards the girl, a hand on her shoulder.

“I know, but it won´t be easy.”

In the mean-time…

“Why didn´t you tell me earlier?”

August sighed, his brother, five beds across the room was awake and the curtain was pulled back.

“I wasn´t sure at first, like you always say; let´s not act stupid.”

“Does anyone else know? Did someone see him with the ring?”

August shrugged, he found the explanation process tiring and useless. “I don´t know about Paul or Ruben, but I guess that Albrecht doesn´t want anyone to know.”

Paul was head of the guards and Ruben was riding master, both well accomplished and highly ranked at Silberstein. Hendrik groaned slightly as he sat up further, he realized that it was useless asking more questions.

“When will Y/N be back?”

Just as August was about to repeat your words and answer his brother´s questions, the door to the infirmary opened and the youngest of the siblings came running.

“Ruth, what-“, Hendrik worriedly eyed his sister, who was clearly flustered.

“Y/n, she´s gone!”

“WHAT?” All previous pain and warnings to take it slow from Madame Pomfrey, were thrown overboard and both brothers hurried to their sister.

“What do you mean she´s gone?” August asked nervously.

“When did she leave?” Hendrik questioned further.

“Last night after visiting you”, Ruth explained towards August, still a little breathless.

“Did you follow her?” Hendrik wondered, but the youngest shrugged ignoring the stress in his voice. “I first thought that she would play some kind of prank with the twins when they snuck out! She didn´t come back though!”

The brother´s exchanged knowing looks.

“She went home, she went back to Silberstein.” Hendrik voiced what they all already knew.

A short break settled between them until August spoke up again.

“What now?”

Before Hendrik could answer, Ruth cut him off.

“We don´t have a choice, but to go back as well!”

For the first time in a long time, none of them objected.

“So, let´s make it clear again; I sneak past the guards within the royal wing and you go with Theresa to free Paul and Ruben.” You repeated the plan and the twins nodded carefully. With Theresa´s insight view on the current situation, they had quickly figured out a plan.

“I don´t think you should go alone”, Fred finally admitted and George nodded agreeing. You shrugged acknowledging their worries, but at the same time, there was no better option.

“The guards are wearing silver armors, your wands are useless against them, but you can free Paul and Ruben from the dungeon!”

“I really come to hate your protection methods against magic, you know Y/N?” George added rolling his eyes and you offered him an apologetic smile.

“But I agree with Fred, you shouldn´t go alone nevertheless.”

“I´ll come with you”, Fred announced and his brother nodded. You let out a sigh, there was no time to argue.

“Fine, but stay behind me.”

Fred smiled, feeling a lot more comfortable not letting you go on your own and saluted. “Yes, my princess!”

You watched as Theresa disappeared into darkness, followed by George. In order to free the head of the guards, well the old guard order, they had to distract the sentinels, who were ordered by Albrecht.

He completely took over, the guards are following his commando only and he´s starving the horses, so they´re too weak. You shivered even recalling Theresa´s words in your mind. It was much worse than you expected. Quickly, you shook off your worries and nodded towards the hallways leading up to the right wing of the castle; the wing of the royal family.

An old broomstick was held tight by Fred, the fact that his wand was mostly useless, was not only foreign to him, but it scared him deeply.

“We have to be careful; we don´t want any attention on us. No one knows I´m here, it should stay this way for as long as possible.” You explained whispering. Almost inaudible, you moved through the castle, barely any light was left and only the stars and the moon through the windows offered silhouettes to make out. Up to the second floor, where the royal wing was located, you didn´t even saw any guards. But then, in front of the door that led into the wing and the private section of the castle, three guards moved up and down. Two torches were hung next to the door and alarmed by the light, you stopped behind a corner.

“How do we take them out?” Fred asked. He lingered only inches behind you, the two of your lurking from the corner and observing how the three guards, wearing shiny armor, paced up and down. You felt Fred´s breath on the skin of your neck as he spoke and goosebumps crawled down your spin. You swallowed and ignored the increasing heart rhythm. Then your eyes wandered across the gangway to the windows…

“We don´t, we let them believe no one entered the wing! We just need to take their focus off, then we snuck to the other side of the adjoining hallway. We´ll enter the wing from outside!”

Fred didn´t like the idea of climbing from one to another window, at the height of probably 300 feet or so with nothing but a small edge of stone to hold on. But he knew that it was a matter of life or dead.

“Accio mouse!” You took your wand and pointed it towards a wall and within seconds, a small mouse ran out of a small, barely visible hole. The high shrieking alarmed the guards and they all turned to see what exactly caused the sound. It was just enough for Fred and you to rush right across the vantage point of the guards and disappear in the opposite hallway.

You pressed your back against the wall, the guards couldn´t see you now, but they remained close. You had to be quiet.

A small reassuring nod later, you had opened the window and climbed out. The brim to stand on was narrow, barely enough for your feet, but a few holes in the exterior allowed you to use them as handles. You stepped slowly to the side until Fred climbed next to you. His eyes travelled down for a second, nothing but stone, not even a lug to stop you from sliding further.

His hand was holding onto the handle, and carefully, you placed yours onto his.

“Hey, we can do this, I know it.” His eyes found yours and Fred calmed a little.

“I trust you; you know this right?” He answered and you smiled softly.

“I know, anyway we wouldn´t be here.” A chuckle escaped his lips. “This is what you do with the people you trust? I don´t want to know what you do with people you hate!”

Your smile vanished, he´d soon find out.

Step for step, slowly and making sure you had enough grip, you made your way to the window.

“Alohomora!”

The window swung open and you hissed surprised, but luckily, it didn´t crash against the wall. From there on, you found yourself in the private wing and continued to hurry. The interior wasn´t as posh and rather simple, still you noticed the differences. Family portraits gone, paintings missing, plants and flowers left to die and the air was cold.

You grew sad, seeing your home basically abandoned and lifeless. If you had only known sooner.

“The king´s chambers are right across the corner.”

Theresa had mentioned two more guards right in front of the king´s bedroom, but you came face to face with four of them.

“Eindringlinge!” (Intruders!)

Luckily, the royal wing was fairly soundproof, but you sighed as the four guards came running into your direction. It would take more of the anyway precious time you had left.

“For Merlin´s sake!” You muttered sounding surprisingly calm to Fred, who gripped onto the broomstick like his life depended on it. Two of the guards had actual weapons, spears to be exact. The other two only held a shield. On the shield was a blank spot, where once the emblem of Silberstein had remained. It only made you angrier.

You spun the wand in your hand between your fingers and Fred watched, how a silver sheen briefly enlightened like a flash bolt. Then you suddenly held a sword.

You knocked down the first guard by very simple running towards him and using his shield as a landing spot from your lunge. Then you spun to the side, the second guard groaned as the sword slid across an unprotected spot on his leg. With a kick, you maneuvered him to the side onto the floor as well.

Fred was barely able to keep up, he realized what you meant by training now more than ever.

The two remaining guards shielded themselves with their spears. The left one attacked first, but you dodged and rolled across the floor, finding yourself right in between the two guards. A series of attacks and evasion movements followed, until you were able to disarm one of them.

While he stumbled back, you blocked the other one with the spear. Fred decided to step in and with a hard throw, the disarmed guard trembled backwards. The broomstick had harshly slapped against his head, and he fell over unconsciously. The guard with the spear kept you at a distance, due to the length of the spear, but as he spun to reach back, you slid across the floor. When he faced you again, you were only inches away from him and you pushed the sword through his body. The magical weapon was stronger than the armor, and as you pulled the sword back, spinning it again to reveal your wand, the last guard fell down.

Fred was stunned by your fighting abilities and he recalled for future purposes, not to ever mess with you. He knew now, that being a princess meant a lot more than just having good table manners. With your wand back between your fingers, you nodded towards the twin.

“Let´s go!” Your breathing was quicker and the adrenaline from the fight rushed through your veins. Then you laid your hand on the doorhandle, for a split second, you held back. But Fred´s reassuring presence gave you enough strength to pull down the handle.

“Father!” The look of the once strong king looking more ill than ever, broke you down. You hurried to his side, softly grabbing his hand, while Fred stayed a little back. He wanted to give you some privacy as well as watch out for more guards approaching.

He looked thin, not in a healthy way and his skin seemed collapsed down to his bone structure, pale and dehydrated. In the large bed, he was nothing more than a shadow of what he once used to be. A small groan escaped King Michaels lips; the sudden loud sounds had awoken him from a dreamless sleep. It was painful to watch, how slowly his eyes opened.

“Y/N?” His voice was barely a whisper and you felt tears rolling down your cheeks. The entire scene was heartbreaking to even watch.

“What are you doing here? You can´t be here”, your father explained, his voice quiet but also alarming. You furrowed your brows. “I had to come here, father, Albrecht he-“

“I send you away, so he couldn´t hurt you.”

You stumbled back, you thought you had it all figured out, but you hadn´t seen it coming. It wasn´t at all how you expected this go…

A loud shot shattered through the air; Fred spun around to see a man, who had appeared out of nowhere, holding a gun. He had appeared like a shadow and while Fred tried to attack him with magic, you felt hot burning liquid running down your skin.

“Stupor!”

Fred was thrown against a wall, after his spell simple drifted off, a loud crash followed and the nearby furniture broke into pieces. Everything inside his head was spinning, he watched from his laying position, how the man stepped out of the shadows into your direction. Something about the man seemed not only mean, but purely evil. He really hoped that his twin brother was more successful.

“Oh, if it isn´t princess Y/N.”

“Albrecht”, you pressed out between your lips, your hand was already pushing against the wound on your side. You felt a pulsing going through your entire body and a weakening stroke. You could only guess, that the bullet was poisoned.

Albrecht wasn´t as you remembered him, yes technically he had the same features, but it wasn´t the same person at all. His facial features harsher and his eyes glowing in greed. He didn´t wear his uniform, he wore a royal attire with posh details. Your father had managed to sit up on the bed.

“Albrecht, leave her alone!” His voice was still weak, but at least steady now. You leaned against the bed as your strength was draining by the second.

“Oh, I wish I could Michael, but little Y/n was stupid enough to come back on her own. Now she will follow her father´s fate! I need to follow my destiny”, he paused for a dramatic second. “All wizards and witches must die!”

Even though your perceptibility wasn´t at its best, you were sure, that something was off about him. You felt a weird, almost mystical power lingering around his aura.

“Why? Do you want the throne?” Your voice was bitter and your eyes remained on him, you had to be careful, not knowing what he was capable of.

“It could´ve been so much easier, if it wasn´t for you all, but no! Karl and Clara had to make sure their descendants survived without my knowledge.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, what he said didn´t make any sense. “King Karl and Queen Clara were killed by Oberst Richter, but they still lost the war! The commando was extinguished!”

Albrecht chuckled, a sound you didn´t like it at all. “Are you sure of that?”

George had Paul, who was severely injured, thrown over his side and braced him to walk. Luckily, Ruben had only few bruises and he cleared the way together with Theresa.

“Albrecht knows Y/n is here, he´ll kill her with the king altogether!” Paul groaned.

“What about the guards?” George questioned as they reached the entering hall from the staircase that had led down to the dungeons. The guards that had once watched over the head of the guards and the riding master, would soon catch up to the four of them.

“We have to save the princess and the king!” Ruben agreed and Theresa nodded as well. George let out a sigh, the situation seemed more complicated to him, since he wouldn´t risk their lives as well. He wanted to win this fight with as many survivors as possible, hoping not to sacrifice the employees of the royal crown. However, he was sure that Theresa, Paul and Ruben wouldn´t hesitate to do so.

Loud voices coming from the front yard let the group freeze. Were even more guards sent in order to stop them? A loud bang echoed and George felt as the heavy doors trembled beneath the eruption. Then the doors opened, all they could do was watch in fear as the fog lifted.

Hendrik, August and Ruth entered, all of them having their wands or even swords in their hands.

Hendrik was first to approach them, he held the sword steady in his hand and stepped to them with swift motions. He truly looked like a young king leading his kingdom. Ruth was quick to hurry to Paul, inspecting his wound.

“By Merlin´s beard, you all came!” Ruben breathed surprised, but relieved as well.

“Episkey!” Ruth didn´t waste any time and was able to heal a large portion of Paul´s wound. August was able to fetch two further swords for both Paul and Ruben, Hendrik turned towards Theresa and George.

“Where is Y/N?”

“She went with Fred to see your father, but Albrecht knows about her stay here!” George hastily explained.

“I don´t think the king will survive a confrontation with him. He´s not, who he pretends to be!” Theresa added and fear swallowed her voice.

“Let´s not waste more time!”

“Are you sure of that? Are you sure that truly the entire commando was extinguished?” Albrecht repeated and the spite in his voice felt like a thick piton wrapping around your neck.

“No one could´ve survived”, you trailed off, knowing that it was useless at this point. Your calculations had been wrong.

“Are you a descendant of Richter?” Your father, king Michael, spoke up again and he exchanged a precarious look with you. Your eyes searched the room for Fred, he was behind Albrecht and you saw, how he slowly gained back consciousness. Albrecht´s bitter and evil laugh filled the room once again.

“A descendant? I thought you´d be smarter!”

You eyed your opponent closer, remembering the stories about your great-grandparents…

While she climbed up the bell tower with her heart beating in all of her limbs, a man in uniform stepped outside the library. His short cut hair was pulled back under a cap.

“How is it possible? You must easily be over 90 years!”

It had taken you too long to figure it all out; Oberst Richter and Albrecht weren´t relatives, it was the exact same person.

“Actually 102 to be exact”, he grinned and loathing crawled down your spin.

“But how?”

Winning time was number one priority, Fred was almost completely back and he watched the scene unravel, while you tried to figure out a plan.

“You had them all believe that wizards are evil and Satan´s adjutants, didn´t you? But in reality, you´re just like us.” Your eyes wandered back to your father, his explanation was so simple and logical. Yet, it was the first time it crossed your mind and the image imprinted in your mind, had blinded you before.

“You´re just like him, you´re like Voldemort”, you spit out, but immediate regret followed. The sudden movement brought even more pain from your wound and you hissed. Albrecht on the other hand, only chuckled lowly.

“A big name for such a little girl, but as you can tell; I prefer it to operate in a much more considered manner. I like to stay in the shadows. No one should know my name, until it is too late for them!”

For several seconds, all hoped seemed lost. Strength was draining from your body, your father wasn´t even strong enough to hold a sword and Fred´s magic was useless inside the walls.

Oh, Fred.

Your eyes found his, tears rolling down your cheeks. Why did you bring them with you? What if he died, just because of you? He saw the repentance shinning in the dark´s of your orbs. Without any words he shook his head. No, he didn´t regret coming with you at all. If you fate laid here in the fortress or if it was on the other end of the world, he´d always follow you.

“Any last words? Even though they won´t be printed in any books?”

“Let´s not act stupid!” Hendrik´s loud voice echoed through the room and you felt your stomach drop in relieved. Together with August he attacked Albrecht, a battle between swords and magic escaped.

George fell to his knees, helping his brother get up. Ruth slide across the room, ducking away from the fight and finding your side. But you stubbornly shook your head at your sister, gesturing towards the king. “Him first!” You urged.

Ruth nodded, not arguing and inspecting your father´s condition.

Albrecht was taken back by the sudden appearance of the Silberstein siblings and both of your brother´s were excellent fighter. As Albrecht tried to strike forward, luckily you had a good view on his movement pattern.

“Expelliarmus!” You yelled from across the room and disarmed Albrecht, who was then thrown to the ground by Hendrik. August had previous cut him on his leg, which made him wobble to one side.

Ruth had taken a healing potion out of Madame Pomfrey infirmary, and it seemed to be working rather quickly, King Michael lifted himself out of the bed. Paul hurried to his side; the king was still weakened after months of poisoning.

“This time, I´ll make sure you won´t survive Richter!”

Hendrik exchanged looks with his brother, this would take some more explaining at a later point.

King Michael grabbed Richter and fetched his wand from his coat, apparently, he had the wand with him at all times. Then he spun it in his hand just like you had used to, until the king´s sword appeared. Richter let out nothing but a small, pitiful groan, as blood started dripping from his mouth.

The sword had gone right through his torso.

First cheers sounded from Theresa and Ruben, but you barely comprehended them.

Darkness grew in your vision, which became blurrier and you felt your limbs falling asleep. Only seconds after Richter´s dead body fell to the side, you felt yourself fainting.

“Y/n!” At last, it was Fred´s voice, that you heard and his soft eyes staring down to you, before blackness swallowed you whole.

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tags: @ britishspidey @ perfectlysane24 @ acoolnight

#fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fanfiction #oliver phelps #weasley twins #harry potter #harry potter imagine #mariamermaidimagine

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duhragonball · 3 years

Text

Hellsing Liveblog, Ch.11-13

This is the “Balance of Power” arc.

One of the things that frustrated me about the Hellsing TV anime (as opposed to the Hellsing Ultimate version) was that the TV series aired while the manga was still running, and it seemed to struggle between following the source material or just diverging into all new stories. I think if Gonzo had made up their minds one way or the other, it would have ended up a better show. Instead, there were all these filler scenes of Seras training with human soldiers, which seemed like an utter waste of the character’s time. Worse, this meant the human soldiers featured much more prominently than they ever did in the manga, where they all get killed off by Chapter 9 or something. And if you know that’s coming, like I did, it makes the human soldiers that much more insufferable, because you know dorks like Farguson aren’t going to matter, but they get tons of screen time anyway. Farguson is like every episode of Dragon Ball GT condensed into a single character.

Here, in the original manga, it’s pretty clear that the soldiers never mattered, because the only time you ever see them is when Jan Valentines’ ghoul army slaughters them all. They only existed so Integra would have something to be in charge of, but the only ones who actually matter here are herself, Alucard, Seras, and Walter. In this chapter, Walter practically admits as much, when he states that there were 96 staff members, and now we’re down to ten: Walter, Integra, and eight jabrones who weren’t at the base that day. Well, maybe those eight guys will show up later and do something important? Bullshit they will, they never get mentioned again. The Gonzoverse might have been able to break some new ground by focusing on those human characters more, but what they actually did was half-assed, and it looks all the more futile when you know how unimportant they are to the original work. Walter just hires a band of mercenaries to backfill all the vacant positions, and I’ll give you three guesses what happens to those guys.

Concerning “Millennium”, their mysterious new enemy, no one has any idea what they are. A bunch of people try to research it, because we didn’t have Google in 1999, or at least not Google as we now know it, so if you wanted to know something cryptic you just had to rummage through a card catalog in a library or whatever. But Integra just makes the logical leap that “Millennium” is a reference to the “Thousand Year Reich” dreamed of by Nazi Germany. This seems like a stretch, but I think Integra’s reasoning is that this is the only “Millennium” reference that could possibly be worth Hellsing’s attention.

Later, Integra meets the Wild Geese, the merc group Walter hired, and explains their assignment even referencing the Bram Stoker novel. So I guess Dracula is a real book in the Hellsing world, but it must be at least partially based on a true story, right? The Geese don’t buy any of this, so Integra introduces them to Seras to prove that vampires are real.

They all laugh at Seras until she starts flicking their leader, Pip Bernadotte, with her fingers. Then Alucard shows up, and that seems to be enough to convince them.

After this, Integra gets a letter from the Iscariot Organization, inviting her to a meeting with Enrico Maxwell at the Imperial War Museum. The whole thing introduces Bishop Maxwell very effectively. He tries to play this off as a peaceful, diplomatic conference, but he makes Integra wait, and she’s still sore about Anderson’s violation of their treaty back in Chapter 5-6. Maxwell takes all this in stride, then replies that he could care less about the deaths of even two billion Protestants, so the two guys Anderson killed mean nothing to him. He’s only here because the Pope ordered him to do this, and he calls Integra a “Protestant sow” for good measure.

At this, Alucard comes out to stand up for Integra’s honor, and then Maxwell responds by bringing out Anderson, except Anderson has a berzerker rage thing going, so it kind of ruins Maxwell’s posturing. For all his contempt, he really was ordered to London to talk to Integra, so he’d probably get in trouble with the Pope if Anderson starts a big superhero battle in a museum.

In Cross Fire, the unpublished manga that was sort of a precursor to Hellsing, Maxwell looked a lot like Sir Integra does now, so when Kouta Hirano brought him back for this arc, he slicked his hair back and removed his glasses. On the other hand, Integra doesn’t look much like the early Integra anymore either. By now, Hirano seems to have settled on her design, straightening her hair out and making her face longer and thinner. Anyway, Maxwell’s brinkmanship has backfired, and now even he can’t stop Anderson, so what can be done?

Luckily, Seras is here to provide a distraction, as she leads a tour group of elderly Japanese tourists through the gallery. For some reason this kills Anderson’s fighting mood completely, so he leaves. Alucard also leaves, because he hates being up during the day. Walter gives Seras a hearty thumbs up for defusing this tense situation. Good job, Seras. You’re doing amazing, sweetie.

All right, so what’s so blamed important that the Pope would send Maxwell to London? Well, he knows about Millennium’s attack on Hellsing’s base, and he has some juicy deets on them. After making Integra say “please”, he explains that “Millennium” was a Nazi military unit responsible for transferring resources and personnel for Nazi Germany. They relocated a ton of these resources and personnel to South America for safe keeping. Integra’s not too impressed with that, since “Nazis fleeing to South America after the war” isn’t exactly a shocking revelation.

The twist here, though, is that Millennium was smuggling Nazi stuff to South America during World War II.

Also, the Vatican helped Millennium do this? I never understood this part of the story, but I think it gets explained later. I mean, it explains how Maxwell would have this lead to share with Hellsing, but it raises more questions than answers.

Volume 2 ends with another chapter of Cross Fire, starring Heinkel Wolfe and Yumiko Takagi. In the first story, they saved hostages from Islamic terrorists. This one is them recovering stolen church money from radical communists, which I guess could have been a thing in 1998? It’s basically the same story, though, as they send Yumiko to infiltrate the bad guys, then they slaughter everyone in sight. Mostly, I want to focus on the part at the end, where Maxwell, the leader of Iscariot, justifies the use of extreme hyper-violence in the name of the Catholic Church. You sort of get the sense that the Iscariot Organization in Cross Fire was a concept in search of a villain. the idea of two girl-assassins dressed as a nun and a priest might have had some traction, but Hirano really seems to have had trouble coming up with worthy enemies for them to fight. But Hellsing brings vampires into the mix, which suits the Iscariots quite nicely.

Back to “Balance of Power”, the third part features Seras training with the Wild Geese in the middle of the night. For some reason, Seras expects them to shoot targets from over 4km away. She can do it, but only thanks to the vampiric senses Alucard showed her how to use. It’s like she doesn’t realize that this is an ability she only has because she’s a vampire or something.

Indoors, Alucard and Walter discuss the whole Nazi angle. Al isn’t terribly surprised, because he only knows three who have ever used undead warriors for combat.

1) Hellsing

2) Himself

3) The Nazis.

He knows #3 is legit, because he and Walter destroyed a Nazi research facility during the war. Supposedly that contained all their work on the undead, but now that we know Millennium was smuggling important stuff from Nazi Germany to South America, it only makes sense that they’re the ones who devised the Valentines’ ghoul attack. The bigger point of this scene is to reinforce that Walter used to be a big wheel in Hellsing, teaming up with Alucard to have Golden Age WWII adventures. And now, Hellsing will be sending Alucard and Seras to South America to investigate this new threat.

Here, Walter asks the big question: Why make Seras a vampire? I’ll have more to say about this later, but I dig this scene because it works as an exposition scene, but there’s more to it than that. Alucard’s only apparent motivations are over-the-top violence and doing his master’s bidding. Helping Seras doesn’t seem to fit either of those, so it does indeed feel out-of-character. You’d expect someone to ask this question, and by now there’s really only two people left who know Alucard well: Walter and Integra. So yeah, let’s have Walter ask the question. But later on, it becomes clear that the point is not the question itself, but the fact that Walter is the one asking it.

For what it’s worth, Alucard doesn’t seem to know, or maybe he just doesn’t want to spell it out. He keeps saying that it was her “choice”, except he had to make his own choice that night. He could have just let her die, regardless of any requests she might have made. Al remarks on her tremendous resilience on that night, since she was surrounded by death and hopelessness, but didn’t resign to her fate. That impresses him, so I guess we can say that he chose her because he found her to be such an impressive specimen, in spite of some of her goofier behavior. As it currently stands, Seras can’t even travel across rivers or oceans, a weakness for lesser vampires, but not a problem for Alucard himself. He seems to think that’ll all be resolved once she finally drinks blood, and he expects that it’ll just be a matter of time before she does. Ominous!

As far as transporting Seras to South America, Alucard figures the easiest thing to do is nail her shut in her own coffin. The Wild Geese know a smuggling operation that can fly them to Brazil without any messy customs. That works out, since they also have to transport Alucard’s coffin, and all the guns.

Integra asks why Alucard is dressed like this, and he says he can’t wear his usual stuff because he’d be too obvious to their enemies. Also, he doesn’t need to spend the whole trip in his coffin, because sunlight and traveling over water doesn’t bother him, I guess? I don’t really get the water thing. If Seras can’t travel over running water, what difference does it make if she’s in her coffin or not? I can accept that Alucard, who’s basically a super-vampire, would be immune to the whole water thing, but it becomes a plot point later on, so... aw, forget it

Integra gives Alucard only one order: Search and Destroy, which seems kind of vague when you think about it. Anyway, she’ll be saying this about a hundred times before the story is over, so we may as well appreciate the original.

#2021hellsingliveblog #hellsing #alucard #sir integra hellsing #walter c dornez #seras victoria #enrico maxwell #pip bernadotte #did i forget anyone?#nah i guess that's it

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thirium-fiction · 4 years

Text

Be Back Soon (Markus x Reader)

Word Count: 3k+

Request: Maybe a Markus fic where reader works at CyberLife but secretly helps repair deviants?

A/N: AhHhh this request was so interesting! I chose to use the violent revolution route for Markus because it worked better. I had some fun with this one and I’m pretty proud of it despite getting a little carried away with the background. I’m sorry I just love giving huge amounts of content for a story!

Warnings: Slight swearing and angst

You had worked for CyberLife for awhile now, having been close friends with Elijah Kamski when he was younger and was just getting started with studying androids and his business. The two of you first met in college and you heard all about the 12-year-old who got into the University of Colbridge. It was practically unbelievable when you first heard about it. You worked your ass off to get to where you were at 18 and when you found out a pre-teen did the same? It’d be a lie to say that it didn’t cause a little bit of jealousy. But, he turned out to be a pretty kind kid. Sure, he had a bit of an ego to him considering he was among some of the top students in the United States and they were all older than him. Yet he still knew when to draw the line if he wanted to make connections for his future company.

And that’s how Elijah began to connect with you.

Both of you were studying AI when he noticed your inability of accepting the possibility that any form of artificial intelligence could be nothing more than what their creators designed them to be. It was an extremely dangerous mindset that you had considering how advanced technology was becoming. The idea that androids were just machines was safe. Didn’t you want to be safe? Considering how many verbal debates you’ve gotten into over the subject, apparently not.

As a matter of fact, your stubbornness on the subject granted you the ability to help with Elijah’s Turing test for Chloe. You did it once through a computer, asking a series of questions for both Chloe, who was pretending to be human, and the actual human who had to convince you they were the actual person and not an android. Chloe passed with flying colors and you were shocked to realize that you assumed the human was an android.

You did another form of the same test but in person this time to see how she’d look in public situations around others. You had never met Chloe so you had no idea what she looked like. Another female was in the room and had to convince you once again that she was the human while Chloe did the same. Chloe’s expressions and responses were just - so - natural. It really solidified your idea that machines can be so much more. But, people can just refute you by saying that Elijah designed her to make you believe that.

Nevertheless, she fooled you again and was the first android to pass the Turing test in 2022.

CyberLife began pumping out androids to the public like never before. People were willing to spend thousands of dollars just so they didn’t have to do “extras” like chores, caring for family, transportation, and other forms of work. And once humans got their hands on them, they practically became children and destroyed what was meant for them to enjoy. It was sickening what you’ve seen them do and how openly they’d talk about such abuse. You tried going to Elijah multiple times about the problem you’ve seen.

“There’s nothing I can do.” He would say to you like always. “I can’t control what people decide to do with their product.”

“They’re not products!” You’d shout at him, infuriated by how he was handling the situation yet again.

Then he’d leave the room without saying anything else.

Elijah became increasingly more distant once he heard about Amanda’s death during February of 2027. You knew they had been extremely close with her being his mentor along with being his professor as well. She was your professor too but they had a bond that you were never able to form with her. And, not more than a year later, the CEO of CyberLife resigned from his position and left out of the blue. He never told you of his plans or where he was going. He left a simple sticky note on his desk addressed to you that read:

I’ll be back soon.

It’s been ten years and there was still no word from him.

So, you continued life how you usually would. You went to work for CyberLife as a normal manufacturing employee under a new boss (who was a complete jackass). But, as time went by, more and more “deviants” started to make the news. They were always badly damaged after escaping the their owners after injuring/and or killing them so they would stand out from a crowd. You knew the media was purposefully blocking out the part where they were doing it out of self-defense. Humans couldn’t possibly be held accountable at all.

You had enough of the bullshit.

Every once in awhile, these deviants would find their way back to the CyberLife warehouses. You occasionally had some manufacturing work to be done there so you spent some of your shifts around those branches. Those androids who were luckily enough to make it that far were usually in dire need of biocomponents to keep themselves going. You’d catch them trying to steal whatever they could get their hands on but instead of reporting them like you should, you decided you could help them instead. They were always frightened at first, afraid you’d turn on them or take them apart right then and there. You always made sure to make them feel at ease through the process of repairment. If there wounds were too great, you offered them the option to continue or to stop. Some would carry on despite knowing they had little time left while others gave up on the table right in front of you.

It wasn’t long until more and more heard of your name and looked for you as a source of safety. Eventually, it reached a point where hiding them became increasingly difficult. It was hard to take care of multiple beaten up androids in one night while also having to get your work done. There have been a couple close calls where you had to convince your coworkers you were just fixing up regular androids for clients. You could only use the same excuse for so long if the only robots you were repairing were horribly beaten.

It was saddening how many came your way looking for some type of assistance. If they were comfortable enough, they’d tell you why they ran away in the first place. After that, some would let you know that their plan was to find Jericho and meet Markus himself.

Ah, Markus.

You had heard of the android hero before. He was practically a wanted criminal across the United States because of his revolution. His face was all over the news after his speech and fires and violent riots followed not long after. He was an intimidating and scary figure to most humans but you couldn’t help but understand where he was coming from. For years, androids have been beaten down and oppressed by society because they were seen as less than to humans. It wasn’t surprising that he was angered by it.

You never would’ve guessed you’d come face-to-face with such a legend, however.

You were walking around the warehouse lot, enjoying a bit of fresh air after having been inside forever from loads of paperwork. It was dark out and luckily the area had some pretty substantial lighting or else you would’ve been left completely blind to your environment. Yet, it wasn’t enough for you to notice the figures running towards you in the distance. You didn’t even realize you weren’t alone until you heard footsteps closer behind you. Expecting some of your regular coworkers, you put a tired smile on your face and turned around but immediately froze once you saw a familiar pair of determined blue and green eyes.

“It’s you.” You whispered in awe, your heart racing in both excitement and slight fear. “Both the hero and the terrorist.”

Markus just barely tensed at your words, not ever having planned to be labeled as a terrorist by anyone. He’s heard it through the media numerous times but someone doesn’t ever really get used to that sort of thing.

The redheaded woman next to him (who you knew was also an android from your experience with them) walked up to him and gently grabbed his arm. “I don’t trust this. They’re human, Markus. They can easily report us to the authorities. We should find help somewhere else.” She muttered, turning her head away so you couldn’t really tell what she was saying.

The RK200 pulled his arm away from her grasp before returning his attention back to you. “You’re (Y/N), correct?”

You nodded, still shocked to be in the presence of such a figure among the potential future of artificial intelligence. “In the actual flesh.” You laughed, trying to ease your own nervousness more than anything. When no laughs were thrown back at your sad excuse of a joke, you cleared your throat and stood tall. “U-Uh, yes. I’m (Y/N).”

Markus glanced between his group of friends and the woman gave him a look of disapproval. He gave her an apologetic look back before hesitantly stepping out of the way to reveal an injured PL600 being carried by a PJ500 model. “We need your help.” He said quickly, looking around to make sure there was no one nearby. When he noticed your lack of response, he gave you a pleading look. “Please.”

You blinked a few times and rubbed your face before slightly shaking your head. “If you were caught here, I couldn’t possibly fathom what would -” Your eyes fell on the blonde android in front of you, blue thirium slowly oozing out between his fingers as he held his wound. You could tell this wasn’t his first rodeo with injuries. Actually, all of them seemed experienced with this type of situation. Taking a deep breath, you finally nodded and ushered them to follow you. “Alright, I’ll see what I can do. But, I can’t guarantee anything.”

You saw Markus’ shoulders relax and he gave you a kind smile with a nod as a thanks. Your heart skipped a beat at such a sight. He was actually quite handsome and whoever had him before he became deviant must’ve been very lucky.

You led them into a discreet room towards the back of the warehouse with a table in the middle of it. Everyone knew that’s where you worked for the most part so not many ever came by to interrupt you. It was surrounded with different materials for your operations with an apron in the corner, perfectly clean as if it wasn’t covered in blue blood many times before.

Thank God for thirium evaporation. You would’ve been given away a long time ago if it wasn’t for that.

“Set him down there, please.” You ordered, pointing to the table as you turned your back to them and put the apron on. Once you tied the knot behind you, you swiveled around and froze at the amount of androids in the room. Four. You rarely ever got to experience more than one at a time when deviants would come to see you. Sighing, you shuffled over to the door and leaned outside, taking one last survey of the area to see if anyone was around before closing it and locking it.

You noticed the PJ500 model and the woman stand by each other in the corner away from you as Markus stood over the injured android. You put on a pair of surgeon gloves and walked over to the table that was already starting to be stained blue. “Can I ask what the rest of your names are?” You ask, breaking the heavy silence in the room.

“Simon…” The PL600 grunted as you slowly removed his hand away from his covered wound to inspect what happened.

The other man in the corner in the room was next to reply. “Josh.”

The girl was last and the most cautious. It was obvious she still didn’t trust you despite having heard a lot about you from the others back at Jericho. You were human after all.

“And that’s North.” Markus said on her behalf, his gaze lingering on her a bit as sort of a ‘knock it off’ before he looks at Simon once more. “We’re not used to this kind of...treatment from a human. We’ve all had out fair share of unpleasant encounters with them. So, going to one for help is certainly new for us.”

You chuckle a bit before grabbing a pair of tweezers nearby and gently moving the skin and parts around inside the wound, trying to find what you were looking for. “It’s alright.” You shrugged, feeling your tool knock into something small and hard. “You guys aren’t the first to be suspicious of my intentions.”

“Hey, Markus.” Josh piped up from his corner. “North and I are gonna stand outside on watch. That alright?”

The leader gave them a small nod. “Just be careful.”

You waited until they left to continue speaking. “I’m surprised careful is still in your vocabulary considering how much trouble you’ve gotten yourselves into.”

A snort came from Simon at your remark which was a little jarring to you. You had to remind yourself they couldn’t feel physical pain like humans can. Once you pulled out the object from his wound, it healed like usual (must’ve been clogging his system) and you handed him a cup of blue liquid for him to drink to replenish what he lost. He took it and thanked you softly before downing it in a blink of an eye. When he was finished, he stood up and swiftly placed the cup back in your hands.

“You truly are a miracle worker like they say.” Simon states, a gracious expression on his face as he give you a little bow. “Thank you.”

You watched as he left the room to meet with the others with only a slight limp. It was obvious he was much more gentler than the people he was around. Almost like a lost child.

“I’d like to thank you once again as well.” Markus said, his tall stature causing him to hover over you. “We would’ve lost many of ours if it wasn’t for you.”

“How could I deny a legend?” You smirk, beginning to put away your tools so it can at least look a little tidier for the next deviant that comes along.

He raised his eyebrows briefly, breaking eyes contact with a smile of his own before he paused, suddenly overwhelmed with confusion. “All humans hate us.” His statement made you stop in the middle of putting an item away and face him. “What’s stopping you from doing the same?”

You pursed your lips in thought, having never considered the possibility of you hating androids like others have. “Have all humans been terrible in your experience?”

The question made Markus’ stare fall to the floor in sadness once he remembered his time with Carl. “No, actually. Quite the opposite.”

“The same goes for humans with androids. People are scared of what they don’t know.”

“We’re scared of what we do know, (Y/N). You’re one of the few who actually sees us for what we are. The rest will never understand.”

“They won’t understand if you don’t give them a chance to.” You whipped out your phone and pulled up an image from online and showed it to him. “They will never give you a chance if they see this.”

Fire. Chaos. Screaming. Crying. Deviants. Humans.

That’s what was on the screen.

You were showing him a result of one of his many riots from a different perspective.

“They will only see you as an enemy, if they haven’t already, if you continue things this way.”

Markus gently pushed the screen away from him and stepped away from you. “I came here for help and I received it. I don’t need a lecture along with it.” He shook his head, hatred making its way across his features. “You spend years researching what I live everyday. Even you will never truly see what it’s like for us. Do not tell me what is right from wrong.”

He began walking towards the door before you stopped him with a hold on his wrist. “What was your life like before all this?”

His back was to you, not even bothering to turn around. “I was Carl Manfred’s android.”

You let out a little gasp and quickly dropped your grasp on him. You’d seen the articles about the famous artist losing his life to a heart attack. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

Markus moved his head to the side to look at you, still not turning fully. “He’d still be alive if humans hadn’t gotten in the way.” His shoulders fell, his determined leader facade beginning to crack. “If only I hadn’t listened. If I had pushed back and not endured. He’d still be here.”

That’s when he decided to face you fully, revealing the worn down look on his face. The weight of a whole revolution showing itself in one single expression.

“Now, I’m fixing that mistake.” He hissed, a fiery look in eyes. “I’m pushing back.”

Despite the fact you barely knew him, you wanted to reach out and hold him, letting it know it was gonna be alright. And somehow you suspected that he knew that’s what you were thinking, and he backed away from you once more.

“I don’t need your pity.”

The android made his way to the door, his long coat flowing behind him triumphantly despite him being so tired (or, at least, what tired would be for an android). You resisted the urge to call out to him and ask him to stay. There was so much more about him that you wanted to know. But, you knew deep down that he’d might not ever feel comfortable enough to share what he’s truly been through with someone like you. A human.

He gave you one last purposeful look before leaving you with the last words that Elijah gave you before his disappearance.

“I’ll be back soon.”

[masterlist]

TAGS:

@stars-with-citrus @aproxied @polimollykari @timedthyme

Please join my new narrative taglist [here] to keep yourself updated along with other stories!

#detroit become human #detroit become human x reader #DBH #markus x reader #dbh markus #dbh connor #connor x reader #dbh imagine

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happylifefanfic · 3 years

Text

Safe Place Chapter 1

Looking behind her, the woman’s eyes widened when she realized that he was getting closer and closer. No matter how fast she ran, she couldn’t seem to get away from him. His long legs ate up the distance between them as he shouted after her.

“This was all your fault! It was supposed to be you who died. You should be dead!”

Gasping for breath, Emma sat up quickly in bed and wiped sweat from her forehead. Almost instantly, her eyes welled with tears that she refused to shed.

“Get it together,” she mumbled to herself as she threw the covers off the lower half of her body and got out of bed. Within minutes, she had put on workout clothes, laced up her running shoes, put in her earbuds, and was out the door to begin her daily run. The sunny Los Angeles weather instantly lifted her spirits as her ears filled with the sounds of music from her workout playlist.

Forty minutes later, she was making her way back to her house when she noticed a young boy in the front yard of the house beside hers. She had only moved in a few days prior and had yet to meet any of her neighbors. As a matter of fact, the only person she knew at the moment in this town was her new partner, Athena Grant.

As she got closer to her neighbor’s yard, she saw the boy clumsily make his way towards the sidewalk. Emma’s instincts had her removing her earbuds and slowing her pace.

“Hi!” the kid said as he came closer to her.

“Hi there,” she replied, coming to a stop a few feet away from him.

“I’m Christopher. I think you’re my new neighbor,” Christopher said with a big smile on his face. Emma grinned at his sweet demeanor and catching smile.

“It looks that way,” she replied. “I’m Emma.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Christopher said as he stuck out his hand in greeting. Emma returned the gesture with a smile on her face.

“It’s nice to meet--” she began to say.

“Christopher!” came a shout from inside the kid’s house. Emma’s head swung towards the direction of the front door. Instantly on guard, she stepped between the kid and the man stomping his way across the yard.

“Who are you?” the man said as got closer to the pair standing on the sidewalk.

“Dad, this is Emma. She’s our new neighbor,” Christopher answered as he moved to Emma’s side with that ever-present smile on his face. The man came to a stop a few feet from them and put a hand over his heart. Emma recognized the look of a relief that replaced the look of worry that had been there just seconds before. It’s the same look she’d seen on countless parents’ faces over her years as a police officer.

“Hi, I’m Eddie Diaz,” the man said as he put his hand out to shake hers. Emma took his hand quickly and dropped it within seconds.

“It’s good to meet you, Eddie,” she replied. “I hate to run guys, but I have to get ready for work.”

“I hope I get to see you soon,” Christopher said as she began to move towards her house. Emma turned back to the kid with a smile on her face.

“You can count on it,” she said before heading back to her house. Within an hour, she had showered and gotten dressed for her third shift with the LAPD. Staring at herself in the mirror, she ran through the mantra her training officer had recited to her everyday during her first year as a police officer.

“I am a police officer. I swore an oath to serve and protect. I will treat everyone I encounter today as if they are my own family. I will do my best to leave people better than I found them.”

5 hours later

“727-L-30, MVA at the intersection of Wilson and Gates,” the dispatcher’s voice announced from the radio on the dashboard of the patrol car.

“727-L-30 and 864-A-26 are in route,” Athena replied as she steered the vehicle towards the direction of the accident. “When we get there, what do we do first?”

“We assess the victims first, and clear the scene for fire and EMS,” Emma responded as she looked at her partner.

“Good, Sullivan,” Athena replied with a grin. Within minutes, they had arrived at the scene to find a smaller compact car had collided with a larger SUV. Athena headed towards the SUV while Emma headed towards the smaller car. As she leaned down to assess the driver of the car, she smelled the stench of gasoline and the metallic smell of blood. The driver had blood pouring down his face and pooling in his lap.

“Dispatch, what’s the ETA of fire and EMS?” Emma asked into the radio attached to her shoulder.

“Four minutes,” was the reply. Emma’s eyes widened. There was no way this guy was going to make it another four minutes. He was bleeding out in front of her. Acting on instinct, Emma searched for the source of the bleeding and found it within seconds. Pulling a pair of gloves from her pants pocket, she quickly placed them on her hands before crawling into the backseat of the car.

“Sullivan, what are you doing?”

“He’s bleeding out,” Emma replied as she crawled into the backseat of the car and grabbed a hoodie she saw laying on the backseat. Placing the hoodie against his neck, Emma put as much pressure as she could on the wound.

“Dispatch! I need an ETA on that ambo,” Athena said into her radio as she watched her new partner’s glove-covered hands become drenched in the driver’s blood.

“Two minutes.”

“Athena, we have to get him out of this car,” Emma said as she stared out the windshield. Athena’s eyes drifted in the same direction and she saw flames coming out of the severely dented hood of the car. Without hesitating, Athena moved towards the driver and began to shift him out of the driver’s seat. Emma bolted from the backseat to help her partner move the man from the car. Within seconds, they had him a safe distance away from the car and on the ground. Emma resumed her position at his neck and continued putting pressure on his wound just as the firetruck and ambulance with the numbers 118 on the front pulled up to the scene. Firefighters and EMTs poured out of the vehicles and sprinted into action.

“What do we have?” a male voice said from behind Emma.

“Deep laceration to the carotid,” Emma replied. “He’s lost at least 2 units of blood.”

Feeling movement beside her, Emma glanced up to find a familiar pair of brown eyes watching her closely. Across from them, another firefighter, an African-American female, began checking the driver’s vitals.

“Pulse is weak,” she said. “Whatever you do, don’t move your hands.”

Emma nodded as she watched the female firefighter work. Beside her, Eddie handed her instruments and assisted when needed.

“Ok, we’re going to roll him to get him on the backboard. Do you think you can keep your hands in place?” the female firefighter asked.

“Yes,” Emma nodded. “My index finger is lodged against his carotid at the moment.”

“Keep it there,” the woman said before counting to three as she, Eddie, and an Asian firefighter shifted the driver onto the backboard. They all then moved together to place the backboard on the stretcher.

“Looks like you’re riding with us,” Eddie said to Emma as they walked towards the ambulance.

“Go, Emma,” Athena added as she helped load the driver into the back of the ambulance. “I’ll meet you guys at the hospital.”

Emma sat on the bench of the ambulance as she carefully kept her hands as still and steady as possible. The female firefighter and Eddie worked on stabilizing the driver as the ambulance raced towards the hospital. Once they arrived, Emma continued with the driver all the way to the emergency room bay where the doctors and nurses began working on him. After a few minutes, they were able to swap Emma out for a nurse.

As she washed her hands in the women’s restroom, she couldn’t help but stare at the bright red blood that flowed over her skin and into the sink.

“It should have been you who died! It was supposed to be you!”

“Are you okay?” a voice interrupted her thoughts and had her jumping slightly. Her green eyes locked on a pair of brown ones in the mirror. She nodded her head at her partner.

“Just finishing up. I’ll be out in a minute,” she replied noticing Athena’s ever-watchful gaze on her. “I’m okay.”

“Okay, I’ll be waiting outside,” Athena said before leaving the bathroom. Emma shook her head to rid it of the voice that always seemed to loom in the background before she finished washing her hands. When she got outside of the hospital, she noticed Athena talking to several firefighters.

“Emma, come meet my friends. This is Henrietta Wilson, but we call her Hen. This is Howie Han AKA Chim, and this is Eddie Diaz,” Athena said. Emma smiled at each of them.

“Emma’s my new neighbor,” Eddie announced. “We just met this morning.”

“Oh good,” Athena said as a big smile spread across her face.

“It’s really nice to meet all of you,” Emma said. “Good to see you again, Eddie.”

“Likewise,” Hen replied. “You were awesome out there today. Most people would not have known to plug the artery.”

“Well, she almost became a doctor,” Athena announced, causing four sets of eyes to widen.

“How did you know that?” Emma asked in shock.

“It was in your file,” Athena shrugged.

“What do you mean almost became a doctor?” Chim asked. Emma blushed before answering.

“I graduated from medical school, but I never finished my residency,” she explained.

“You gave up being a doctor to become a cop?” Eddie asked, causing Athena to scowl at him.

“Life had other plans for me,” Emma answered. Luckily, the radio squawked letting Athena and Emma know they were needed. After they were in the patrol car headed to their next call, Emma spoke up.

“What else did my file say?”

Athena cast her a quick look before she spoke.

“You know exactly it says, Emma.”

Nodding her head and looking out the window, Emma let out a long sigh. She would never be able to escape her past.

#9-1-1 #9-1-1 imagine #eddie diaz

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give-me-back-my-rhodey · 4 years

Text

Love in an Underground Bunker - AU Day 5

Title: Love in an Underground Bunker

Author: Purple_ducky00

Prompted by @ironfamquotesincorrect

Link Filled: U2: Secret Relationship of the Bucky Barnes Bingo

Rating: Explicit

Warning: N/A

Relationship: James “Bucky” Barnes/Tony Stark

Link: Read on AO3

Summary: Tony doesn’t remember not living in fear. When his father was a young man, there was an uprising against the government. In turn, the government unleashed a highly toxic gas upon its citizens. The few who did not rebel were rewarded with palaces and mansions built on higher elevations to protect them from the gasses. They were transported in hover jets. Those who rebelled were forced to live on the ground, choked by the deadly gasses. Although the government committed genocide, some people had foresight, however, and built large underground bunkers. Howard had invented a device that filtered the gas out of the air. The rebels planted them in many places over the country. When the government found out, they began to send their AIM agents out to replenish the air with their toxic gas.

DISCLAIMER: THIS WORK IS NSFK!

++++++++++++

The air is bad. They have to find shelter, but they might not have enough time. The AIM agents are upon them, spraying them with the toxic gas that caused so much destruction in the first place. Tony trips on a rock, falling flat on his face and smashes his oxygen mask. The gas starts to fill his already weak lungs, and he can feel himself drifting… drifting… Suddenly the cool oxygen is back. He looks up to see a mask-less Bucky Barnes.

“Stay there” Barnes mouths and spins around firing his weapon. Tony knows Barnes is superhuman, but even he can’t breathe too much of this gas, or he’ll die. Natasha slides in beside Barnes, taking down AIM henchmen one by one. As the AIM men fall, the gas rises. Pretty soon, it gets too high and Tony, Bucky, and Nat have to make a break for it. They reach their hideout before the gas overtakes them.

Bucky takes one step inside the bunker and collapses. Captain Rogers, the leader and Bucky’s best friend, runs over. “What happened? Where’s his mask? Tony, why do you have his mask on?” He roars. “What is the number one rule in this unit?”

“Never take off your mask nor take another’s outside the bunker.” Tony mumbles.

“Exactly.” Rogers snaps. “Now, Bucky could have died! He’s being taken to intensive care now. What do you have to say for yourself?”

“I’m sorry.” Tony looks Steve right in the eyes. “It won’t happen again.”

“You’re damn right it won’t! From now on, you’re not cleared for missions. Your entire job is to repair broken armor and tech.”

Tony wants to scream. That is not fair. All he did was trip on a rock that he couldn’t see due to the gas. They weren’t even supposed to be out that late, but Steve needed intel. And it wasn’t his fault that Bucky gave him his mask. What was he supposed to do – take it off and hand it back to Bucky? Then they’d both be suffering from the gas. Knowing it’s no use to argue, Tony sighs and turns to go to his quarters. Exhausted from the long day, he gets a quick shower and falls asleep.

++++++

Tony doesn’t remember not living in fear. When his father was a young man, there was an uprising against the government. In turn, the government unleashed a highly toxic gas upon its citizens. The few who did not rebel were rewarded with palaces and mansions built on higher elevations to protect them from the gasses. They were transported in hover jets. Those who rebelled were forced to live on the ground, choked by the deadly gasses. Although the government committed genocide, some people had foresight, however, and built large underground bunkers. Howard had invented a device that filtered the gas out of the air. The rebels planted them in many places over the country. When the government found out, they began to send their AIM agents out to replenish the air with their toxic gas.

The water is toxic, and the insurgents must rely on deep water wells for drinking and cleaning. Underground greenhouses with UV lights are used to grow plants. Animals are kept in paddocks as large as each unit can afford. Storehouses of canned goods are piled high. Each leader must set their own rations. Given that Steve had fought all his life, he set rations fairly.

Every day at 7pm, AIM agents are air dropped into the lowlands and spray more gas across the lands. Anyone who had to leave the bunker made sure they had a weapon and got back before 7pm. AIM agents are known for shooting first and never asking questions.

Last night, an AIM agent destroyed the SHEILD bunker transmission systems, so Steve’s unit was stranded with no comms. He sent Tony, Bucky, and Nat out to repair the systems. It was not an easy fix, however, and it took Tony a long time to repair the busted systems. By 6pm, he had the comms up and running functionally but not perfectly, but Rogers asked them to stay a little to perfect and camouflage them. By the time they had finished, it was 7pm and they had to avoid AIM agents.

Now, Tony’s sitting on his bed, wondering if Bucky’s ok. He would go sit by his bed, but no one knows he and Bucky are dating. The units don’t encourage relationships for a few reasons. 1.) They don’t want children running around the bunker. They understand that in order to survive for generations, they will have to reproduce, but they hope to make the world a little better before they do. 2.) People unfortunately are bound to die. Everyone should be unhappy, but they don’t want anyone unable to do their jobs due to grief. Steve is a little more lenient with his unit, but Tony knows Steve disapproves of him, he wouldn’t be happy to know his best friend is dating him. 3.) Close quarters. No one wants to hear anything.

Tony decides to check in on him, if only to see what he’s doing. Unsurprisingly, Steve is sitting beside Bucky’s bed. He looks up when Tony walks up to the open door. “What are you doing here?” He hisses.

“I just came by to see if he’s okay,” Tony blurts, taken aback by Steve’s animosity. He thought Steve would by upset, but not full-out angry.

Steve rises from his chair. “You don’t deserve to see him. He almost died!”

“So, Steve, I was running some numbers, and it looks like…” Howard stops at the door and looks up from his tablet. “What’s going on here?”

“Your son almost got Bucky killed. Now he wants to make sure he’s all right.” Steve scoffs. “He wouldn’t have to if he had just kept his mask on.”

Howard shakes his head. “When has Anthony ever been rational? He’s an idiot. Now, Tony, leave us so Steve and I can discuss.”

“Whatever.” Tony throws up his hands. It’s not like he’ll get anywhere trying to argue with these two. Neither of them like him, and they’re just going to dismiss him anyways.

Tony understands why Steve is so protective of Bucky. He was captured by the government at one point and experimented on. They wanted to turn him into an invincible mindless AIM agent that would destroy the rebellion once and for all. Luckily, Steve was able to sneak in, thanks to Howard and Peggy, and free Bucky. It took a while for Bucky to readjust to his life, and he was kept in isolation for a long time. Now, Steve freaks out if even the slightest thing happens to him.

Slamming his hand against the wall, Tony groans and walks into his makeshift lab. He does most of the updating and innovation now. Howard used to but as his health is declining to his great dismay, he reluctantly passed the role off to Tony. Howard doesn’t hesitate to rip Tony apart any chance he can get, even if Tony’s update works excellently.

He grumbles as he fixes up his mask. He’s going to make this thing nigh indestructible. DUME wheels over, cocking his claw as if asking a question. “It’s ok, DUME, it was my fault, but I’m just mad.”

“Why didn’t you just tell Steve yours broke?” Tony jumps as he hears Nat’s voice from the doorway.

“Gah. Nat, I have a condition!” He yelps. “You know he won’t care. It’s me. I’m always fucking up. I’m sure if it were up to Howard, he’d send me out without a mask to fend for myself. Luckily, Steve cares a little about human lives, even if he’s not a fan of the human himself.”

Natasha walks in and pats DUME on the head. He squeals and wheels around in circles excitedly. Tony smiles. “He already has a crush on you. Don’t encourage him.”

“Tony. I know why you don’t want to make a big deal about it. You guys have been very subtle and sneaky, but I know. No matter what, you should tell Steve that your mask broke.”

“I’m not going to. And you’re not either.” Tony points a finger at her.

She smiles sweetly. “I dare you to stop me.” And walks out, closing the door behind her.

Tony groans again and bangs his head on the countertop. What is his life?

++++++

Bucky wakes up with a start. Tony is dying… or hurt… or… Bucky struggles to find air. It feels like someone just sucked out his lungs.

“Bucky. Bucky. Hey, you’re safe.” Steve is there.

He sucks in a large breath and starts to cough. “Where’s cough Tony cough? Is…” His sentence gets cut off by a series of hacking coughs.

Steve waits until Bucky calms before he schools his face and says stiffly, “Tony’s fine. He should be the least of your worries. It’s his fault you got hurt.”

“I had a dream that he was in pain. Is he here?”

“It’s just the neurotoxins from the gas,” Bruce explains calmly. “Tony’s fine.”

“I need to see him.”

“Bucky, please. He’s fine.” Steve starts to argue, but Bucky just pleads.

“Steve, you should know why I need to see him. Just… let me see him, please?” Bucky has told Steve about the nightmares he’d had after Steve rescued him from the government. Bucky would have to sleep in the same room as Steve so that he knew that Steve was still there, alive and well. A physical touch went a long way for Bucky after these nightmares.

Steve can’t say no to the fear in Bucky’s eyes, so he calls for Tony to come to medical. Tony arrives a few minutes later, shifting from foot-to-foot. Bucky latches onto his Sun, the center of his universe, immediately. “Tony,” he breathes.

++++++

Tony is helping | Rhodey with his new armor when Steve’s voice crackles through the speaker. “Tony, report to medical immediately.”

“What did you do?” Rhodey asks. He is the only person Tony told about him and Bucky. He knows he can trust Rhodey to keep a secret.

Tony raises his hands. “I didn��t do anything! Maybe that’s what the problem is.” He shakes his head. “I better go before I get reduced to dishwashing duty only or something.”

He races down to the medical and stops at the door when he sees Bucky is awake. Bucky is looking at him with relief and adoration in his eyes. “Tony,” He says, almost reverently.

“Hi Bucky.” Tony smiles sadly. “I’m glad to see you’re alright.” He turns to Steve. “Did you need something?”

Steve nods to Bucky who has reached his arms out and is now wiggling his fingers at Tony. “Go to him. He needs to make sure you’re ok.”

What the hell is going on here? Did Bucky tell Steve? Tony thinks incredulously as he walks over to Bucky. And Steve is supportive? Then he remembers Bucky telling him about nightmares he has that feel so real, he needs physical reassurance. “Hey Bucky. I’m ok. I’m alright, thanks to you. You saved me.”

Bucky pets Tony’s hair and runs his hand down the side of his face. “You’re ok.” He says softly. “Tony, darling, I almost died in those nightmares. If you weren’t here? What’s the point?”

“I’m sure you could live without me.” Tony doesn’t know what to say. Are they still keeping it a secret? Are they not? He doesn’t know.

“No.” Bucky clutches Tony’s hand to his heart. “I love you, Tony. You’re my life, my love. When you fell and I saw that your mask was cracked, I knew I had to give you mine. I knew I’d be fine without one, but you wouldn’t have been. Don’t ever scare me like that again, love.”

Tony’s heart melts. “Hey Winter Wonder. I love you, too. Don’t worry, I’ll be staying in for a long time. Now, it’s just me who has to worry about you.”

“I’ll be extra careful.” Bucky smiles and closes his eyes. “Now kiss me.”

Steve gapes and sputters. Tony doesn’t care. He leans down and kisses Bucky, who sighs in happiness and kisses back. When the kiss goes past PG, Steve clears his throat, and Tony pulls back. “So, um, you and… and… Bucky.” He looks like he swallowed a lemon.

“Yep.” Tony challenges Steve to say something.

“Oh… I didn’t know…” He just mutters.

Bucky whines and pulls Tony back to him, seemingly oblivious of everyone else in the room. Tony sits on the bed next to him, and Bucky nuzzles into Tony’s hip. He falls back asleep very quickly. Steve sits in the room with them for a few minutes, then excuses himself.

“Call me if he wakes,” Bruce whispers and heads out, too.

Tony pulls out his phone and plays a game that he programmed for a little while. He soon gets drowsy and leans back against the headboard and falls asleep. Having been moved down to lie beside his lover, he wakes up a few hours later to see Bucky’s face inches from his. “Hi,” he whispers.

Bucky is more lucid now, and he asks, “Did we just out ourselves to Steve?”

“I think so. Is that ok?” Tony’s eyes search Bucky’s face for any sign of anger.

“I don’t care. I just wanted to make sure you’re not mad at me.” Bucky squeezes his hand. “I was the one who said something first.”

“You should have seen Steve’s face.” Tony laughs. He recounts how Steve reacted to Bucky, who laughs loudly, then clutches his chest. “Note to self, don’t make Bucky laugh until he heals.”

Tony stays with Bucky until he heals. Steve comes to see him after Bucky is released and Tony is back in his lab. Bucky is under his table, blowing him. Tony steels himself, waiting to be reprimanded. Steve clears his throat and says, “So, Natasha told me that your mask broke.”

“Yeah. It snapped on a rock, but I fixed it. It shouldn’t break anymore.” Tony holds up the mask. Bucky changes his technique and Tony lurches. “Sorry that it wasn’t in the begi-”

Steve cuts him off. “No, I’m sorry. I’ve been treating you wrongly, and it | was not fair of me to treat you so. You are a big help to this team, and I’ve treated you like I would someone who slacks off at every turn. Unfortunately, I believe I’ve been influenced by Howard, but I plan to change that. Can you forgive me?”

“Sure…?” Tony is dumbstruck. Never in a thousand years did Tony expect Steve to apologize. It’s also hard for Tony to concentrate when Bucky’s doing that to him. “It’s alright Cap. No harm done.” Tony bites his lip to keep from moaning.

“No, it’s not. And I am going to change. You're cleared for missions, too. Thank you, Tony.” He makes to leave, then turns back. No Steve, just go. I can’t hold it in any longer. “And Tony? You are good for Bucky. I’m happy for you both.”

Tony gapes. Steve said what? “Did you hear that?” He asks. “Did he say what I… ughhhh… thought he said, or am I oh fuck Bucky just hnng dreaming?”

Bucky just swallows him to the root, and Tony spills over the edge. Bucky swallows every last drop, tucks him back in, and says, “I definitely heard it, babe.”

Tony lets him come out from under the desk, then pushes him into the chair. “My turn.” He locks the lab door and prepares to give Bucky the best head he’s given yet. The future might look bleak, but Tony and Bucky are just enjoying the moment.

#winteriron #post apocalypse au #nsfk #smut under the cut #buckybarnesbingo2020 #secret relationship #au_gust_2020 #i write!

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inkedsoldier · 4 years

Text

Chew the Bullet - Chapter Five

A Modern Warfare series

Casey Vos is a liaison officer for the Dutch Special Forces. She has been stationed in Afghanistan and Syria, but now works everywhere they need her assistance. Specialized in counterterrorism and intelligence, she is unmistakably a great asset for the upcoming Taskforce 1-4-1, under the command of Captain John Price.

A/N: Here it is – the official chapter five of the Chew the Bullet. Let’s continue the story. English is not my first language, but I’m getting better at it. Please, if you see any errors, let me know so I can fix it. It’s much appreciated. Well, I hope you enjoy! And please leave a note, vote or message with your thoughts! Bravo team out.

Warnings: angst, violence.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.

_____

Price believed that the duty of every soldier is to fight for the greater good. He always fights for what’s right, but he also knows that what’s right isn’t always what you’re fighting for. He often takes drastic actions on his own, against all orders. But he couldn’t get over the fact that Kate knew Casey was still alive. “How could you keep that information from me?” he spoke through gritted teeth. On the screen of the laptop the face of Laswell appeared, who had just called in to inform the captain about new intel they received. “She asked me to, John” she answered, her face down. “She was broken. Battered and bruised. I’ve never seen her that scared before. I couldn’t say no. And after all, she did it to protect you. To protect Alex and the rest of the unit.” He sighed, “I know. She always puts herself in second place.”

As a soldier himself, he would have probably handled it the same way. “She trusts us, John. And we can trust her when she makes a decision like that,” Laswell stated. “But we can talk about this later. The agency received intel on the attack. Al-Qatala’s claiming responsibility. Alex is on the ground as we speak, looking for the stolen chems.” Casey already found out that the orders came from the Wolf in Urzikstan. “Well, you’ll need the Liberation Force on his side, so have him contact the CO,” Price informed the CIA station chief. “You know Commander Karim?” she asked. “We’re acquainted. Use my name- or they’ll kill him,” he replied before ending the call.

Aqtabi, Urzikstan Alex served in Delta Force before he started as an operative of the Special Activities Division of the CIA. He was used to operate under different identities to achieve sensitive objectives wherever he was needed. So, when Laswell asked him to go to Urzikstan he didn’t say no. Alex and his teammates played key roles in some of the most important victories against terrorist networks in 2017. But one mission still haunted him. He couldn’t forget the look in her eyes when she pushed him away from impact. He could’ve died that day in May, but she took his place instead. It was the 26th of October 2019 - almost two years and six months since that dreadful day.

There was no warm welcome for him in Urzikstan. Price had advised Laswell to use his name while meeting with the Militia leader, Commander Farah Karim. He didn’t know how the captain knew the woman, but she intrigued him. Hadir Karim on the other hand gave him an odd feeling when they spoke about the stolen gas. It was almost like he knew more about it. The planned diversion in the center of Aqtabi went well and he gained the trust of Farah and her brother. Most of the Russians made their way from the military base to the occupied town. The less personnel, the easier the attack on the airbase would go.

07:00 PM Al-Raab, Urzikstan - Russian Airbase Hadir had set up shop on the edge of Barkov’s base. He didn’t joke when he told Alex they had their ways to attack the terrorists. Every member of the Urzik Militia was there. Young and old. Men and women. It was a fight of fire against fire. Using improvised drones and Molotov cocktails they managed to breach the airbase, followed by the main hangar where they captured the last weapon armory before Russian reinforcements arrived.

Without air support they wouldn’t make it on their own. Luckily, an unmarked AH-64 Apache was available for this op. “Echo 3-1. Viper 1-1 on approach. Ready for tasking. What’s your position?” the voice sounded through his comms. “Viper, this is 3-1. God damn, good to hear your voice!” Alex replied. “Friendlies in the hangar, taking fire from troops on the tarmac! You are cleared hot!” The Apache pilot approached the site and readied himself to assist the operative and the foreign militia group. “Roger 3-1. Viper inbound, targets are in sight, stand by for fire,” the pilot informed.

With help from Viper 1-1, Alex and the group of men and women took over the Forward Operation Base of Barkov. Russian air capability was hereby temporarily limited allowing Western forces to move through the country. “Today was a great victory for Urzikstan. Thank you, brother” Hadir said, when they regrouped outside the hangar. “We make a good team,” Alex replied with a smile. Farah was happy about the mission, but she was still anxious. “We’ve bought time, but Barkov will retaliate,” she stated. As a girl, she and Hadir were captured by General Barkov. She spend her teens as a prisoner of war, subjected to forced labor and routinely witnessing chemical experimentation. When she escaped with help from then Lieutenant John Price and his team, she vowed to give her life to free her country from subjugation and chaos. “So will we,” Hadir replied.

10:00 PM Scotland Yard, London As a child she’d been nothing but a mess. She had lost everything and eventually tried to forget everything. Along the way she decided to go for military training and offer her life to safe another. The enforced discipline and daily routine had been good for Casey; it sharpened her mind. Being in line with either people who were scared shitless of too confident for their own good was like a normal nine to five office job for her. As a twenty-seven year old she had more experience in life then most of the people who were the same age.

She was glad that Price came to talk to her about what happened that day and the days that followed. Now the captain knew about her survival, only one man was left who didn’t. Well, one man and the other members of the unit who worked the operation. Casey kept thinking about how Alex would react if they met again. Swallowed by her all the scenarios in her mind, she didn’t hear Kyle approaching, “Hey, you okay?” She looked up with the empty mug still in her hand. “Is there something wrong?” Looking at the clock behind him Casey realized she had been standing at the coffee machine for almost half an hour. “Uh.. Sorry. Got lost in thought, I guess. You want some coffee, too?” With a flash of worry in his eyes he took a step forward, “If you want to talk about it you know you can come to me, right?” The sergeant was a special guy. Their friendship meant a lot to them and that would never change. “I’m good. Don’t worry. It’s been a rough day, that’s all,” the Dutch operator replied softly. “Okay, but keep in mind what I said. I mean it… you know that.” A small smile appeared on her face, “I know.”

While leaving the small office kitchen they run into Price. “Ah, just who I was looking for,” he said with a worried look on his face. “Alex and Commander Karim’s forces have destroyed General Barkov’s Forward Operation Base, temporarily limiting Russian air capability in Urzikstan. We need to move fast.” He gestured to the conference room on the other end of the hallway, where a team was already waiting for directions. This meant that Casey had only a few minutes to get informed by Price on the intel he received from Kate and Alex, while Gaz joined up with his team.

At one of her first briefings the anxiety hit her like a brick in the face, but during the years she became a natural at informing a team about their next mission. “My apologies for letting you all wait,” she spoke picking up the remote on the desk in front of the screen. Price nodded his head, giving her the green light to start informing the team about what had to be done in the next few hours. “Thanks to our intel, we’ve tracked the Al-Qatala cell responsible for the Piccadilly attack to a townhouse in North London.” Multiple identities popped up on the screen with the location of the property that was used to be the hideout of the terrorists. A blueprint of the building appeared next. “Three SAS teams will get inside and connect the dots. If the Wolf is in possession of the stolen Russian gas in Urzikstan, we need to find him…” Casey announced looking at the team in front of her. “But… be advised,” she continued in all seriousness. “There may be non-combatants on target. Check your shots!”

01:00 AM Camden Town, London They exited the van that was parked at the entrance of the small alley behind the townhouse. “Targets are up, boys. Let’s kick this off,” Price spoke through the comms. Casey looked at him with a smirk on her face and the captain knew all too well why. “And girl,” he stated rolling his eyes, earning a wink from the Dutch lieutenant. Gaz had to cut through the lock of the fence that stopped them from moving further. It was pitch black in the alley. The only light came from the houses where people were still awake. The stars were hidden behind a wall of clouds. It was a cold moonless night. Moving up the alley they finally reached the backdoor of the small backyard. “Bravo six, moving on the rear garden,” Price informed on comms. It was time to roll and get rid of another part of the terrorist cell. Slowly they moved up to the back of the house when the other team made their presence known. “Bravo six, this is Alpha 2. About to enter the west alley.”

Casey watched up to the kitchen window and prepared her entrance. She placed the foldable ladder against the wall and climbed up carefully. “Bravo six, moving interior,” Price stated. Inside the house it was clear that the suspects were here. Talking could be heard from the other room. Someone was asking for tea and one of the female voices was clearly not happy. A door opened and one of the guys silenced the woman just in time by putting a hand over her mouth. Casey walked to the door of the front room and opened it without making a sound. “Drop ‘em,” Price commanded. She first took the two guys in the room, who were clearly carrying handguns. The woman in front of her ducked to the ground. Before she had the chance to grab the AK-47 under the table, Casey downed her. “Secure,” she said making her way back in formation, while Alpha-3 entered through the front door.

Panicked voices could be heard from the upper levels of the building. A man named Mark was yelling to one of the other Al-Qatala members about them being here. It was time to go dark and use night vision goggles. Securing the first floor went as planned. Before going up to the second floor, Casey changed mags so she would not run out of ammo while they cleared the next floor. Again in formation they went up to the second floor. Out of nowhere the plan went south. Moving up to the end of the hallway officer Ahn got shot through one of the doors. Casey threw a flashbang through one of the holes in the door to buy a little time, so they could drag Ahn out of harms way. A loud bang erupted and she entered the room to secure the floor.

The adrenaline raged through her body. “Rally to the stairs,” Price spoke on the comms. Alpha 3-1 and Kyle carried Ahn to safety so the medics could help him with his wounds. The third floor was secured in no time, leaving only the upper floor to go to before they could gather all the intel that lay around. “One floor left, Case” Price said meeting up with the girl in front of the stairs. She took point while John followed close behind. The door was locked, but the captain was carrying a tool to fix that. They cracked the door open and entered the attic with weapons ready. A woman of about 5’3 stood in the middle of the room, begging her not to shoot. “They were going to kill me. Please, don’t shoot,” she pleaded. Casey was about to lower her weapon when the woman ran backwards to grab something of the desk. Without hesitation both Casey as Price shot her. When she finally checked the desk, she was glad they made the decision to down the woman. “Fucking hell! She was going for the detonator.” Price turned around with the laptop in his hands. “Good job we dropped her then,” he responded. “And.. we got a location on the Wolf,” he continued putting the device down on the desk. A chat window was open, with an IP address shown beneath one of the messages. “Bingo!” she replied giving the captain a high five. A big smile appeared on his face.

Taglist: @imahardcase @yvessaintrogers

I’m currently fixing my masterlist - it won’t work anymore and I don’t know why... so might need to make a new one! Keep you all updated!

Question: Who do you all like to see Casey get all romantic with in the future?

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sevenincubistolemyheart · 5 years

Text

Tainting Purity

Au: Demon Au!

Tag list: @bangtans-apollo @xsmilebitesx @wilhelminalucinda @xsunnyhoseokx @okgoogul @mariacorbi @spiritualotaku @littlekitten8590 @felic-ci @saturated-pink @fckyouartclass @saraisthoughts

Rating: I’m gonna stay safe and say M for this entire series!

Summary: If someone told you that demons would be an everyday part of society a month ago you would have called them crazy. But now that they actually were, you were surprised to find them much more docile than you would’ve initially assumed. In fact, it was the Humans who were hurting them, more often than not. So when you get fed up and stand up for an innocent demon being attacked, you shouldn’t have been so surprised when your own species turned on you, including your own parents, and left you to fend for yourself. Luckily, the newly made treaty calls for a Human to live with demons if there’s 5 or more, and so, you’re now rooming with 7 demons. But not just any kind of demons. Incubi. Your life has suddenly just gotten a whole lot more interesting.

Potential triggers: Mentions of being turned on and other sexual topics, as in this au the boys are all incubi. Brief cursing, kinks including a bit of thigh riding, oral fixation, and a fair amount of dirty talk. I’m gonna go ahead and add dubious consent as well.

Pairing: BTS x Reader/OT7 x Reader

Genre: Supernatural, Drama, Romance, Angst, Fluff, Hurt & Comfort

Length: 6.2k

To say that demons were not very accepted when they came out was an understatement.

People were understandably terrified, and there was a lot of questions to be had. The demons, to their credit, were actually very accommodating. They'd been sent up here to gauge our reactions to them, and were to live here. They explained the different types, because yes, different types existed. From Incubi to Fallen Angels to Ifrits.

According to the demons, the rest were merely grunts, soldiers with supernatural abilities. As for Lucifer, and where religion fit in with all of this, the man who asked found himself pinned by the throat with the warning to never ask again. That was the one question they vehemently refused to acknowledge. They wouldn't even say if angels or God existed at all.

As for you? You actually thought it was some elaborate hoax at first. You'd always believed in the Supernatural, very strongly in fact, but the idea that demons suddenly just decided to reveal themselves was just too unbelievable. Until you saw their powers first hand, anyway. When you saw fire burst forth from an ifrits hand right before your eyes to light his cigarette, it hit you all at once.

This was real.

It took you a few more days to fully come to terms with it of course. You did a lot of research and unfortunately weren't surprised to find many hate-based groups, determined to hate them in the name of “good” or “God”. Many protests and fights had broken out, both from demons, fed up from being discriminated against and Humans, scared of the unknown and in defense of beliefs that were now called into question.

But in addition to the hateful people, there was another group that fetishized them, especially the succubi and incubi. Since they fed on sexual energy, it was often a win-win but some of them were disgusted by it. After being the ones to use Humans and manipulate them for millennia, it just wasn't the same to have themselves be used as sex objects. Others still, felt it was a give and take, and many incubi and succubi liked it that way, rather than merely being used for their abilities. Many found amusement in it, but the ones that didn’t were often shunned by the fetishists just as much as those that hated them.

Then, of course, there was the largest group, made up of the ones that were afraid or caught in the middle, unsure of what to believe, and how to act around these new, intimidating creatures we’d all been taught to fear. Eventually, a representative stepped forward for the demons, and talks began with the united nations. Experiments were shot down, immediately, but low-grade demons who underestimated what Human technology was capable of were sometimes able to be subdued. Sex trafficking was a booming market for demon slaves. Sometimes, demons turned and helped Humans capture them, either for their own safety or even for food, in the case of Nogtisunes.

Eventually, a compromise was reached. The demons would not kill any Humans, and only fight back if genuinely threatened, and the Humans wouldn't exclude them from establishments or try to harm them. Needless to say, both sides weren’t exactly happy with the arrangement, especially the Humans, and the law was frequently broken.

You were on your way to your favorite cafe to meet up with your parents for a late brunch when you saw it happen. There was a person being kicked and attacked by a group of surrounding people, men, and female alike. You stood in shock for a moment, surprised that people were walking past this like nothing was happening before you huffed and sprang into action, pushing past the people forcefully and standing in front of the person to shield them. “What the fuck is wrong with all of you!? Who do you think you are to pick on this innocent-” You checked behind you at the male struggling to get to his feet. “Boy?”

A boisterous male stepped forward and shouted at you.

“Boy? As if! That thing’s a beast in Human form, it deserves nothing but the pain and suffering they gave us for so many years!”

You looked over as you felt a hand on your shoulder, gently pulling you back a bit, seeing the bloodied male rising to his feet. He spat some blood out of his mouth and grinned at the man. “Actually, my kind gave you nothing but pleasure. Just because you get off on inflicting pain on others, doesn’t mean we all do.” He said cheekily, eyes glinting as the man’s face turned a brilliant shade of red. You gasped pulling him behind you in panic as the man lunged. “Watch out!” You winced as the hit of the man's fist met your stomach, doubling over in pain as he scoffed.

“You stupid bitch! Why would you stand up for this disgusting creature?”

You rolled your eyes, even as you grit your teeth at the pain, forcing yourself to stand up straight again, even as your stomach pulsed in pain. “The only disgusting creature I see is standing right in front of me. This incubus didn’t do a damn thing wrong, and you had no right to assault him like this!!” You hissed at him in return, eyes alight with anger.

“Jungkook! There you are!”

You looked up towards the unfamiliar voices only to gasp as you were violently pulled into the crowd by your hair. You tried to get free but heard a voice you knew all too well scoff. “Can’t believe I actually raised a filthy monster fucker.” You wretched yourself away from the hand even though you lost some of your hair with a pain that had your eyes tearing.

“Dad!? I know you don’t like demons, but abusing them when they haven’t done anything to deserve it is wrong! The treaty was made for a reason!!” You said back coldly. “And I’m not “fucking” any of them, I just have the basic common sense to know that hurting anyone innocent, whether demon or Human is wrong. I thought you did too. Clearly, I was wrong.”

You turned towards your Mother, expecting her to be on your side as she typically was only to find her looking on in terror at something behind you. You turned and watched in awe as the injured boy, Jungkook’s wound healed, despite being openly bleeding when you’d jumped in to help him.

“Leave, and never come back.”

You abruptly turned back to look at your Mother in total shock, eyes wide at her quiet words.

“W-What?”

She shouted then, voice louder than you’d ever heard it. “I said leave! You’re no longer welcome in our household! I can't believe my own flesh and blood would betray her own species like this!! If I ever see your face again I’ll personally make sure you regret it!” She stormed off with your father in tow as you stared at the spot she’d once occupied, numb with shock and fear slowly creeping in.

“She’s right! You’re on your own now little girl, and you deserve the same as the filthy monster you stupidly tried to protect.” The few remaining people of the mob turned their attention to you, and you couldn’t even find the strength to bring your arms up to try and protect yourself as another boy lunged at you, about your age.

“That’s where you’re wrong.” A deep voice spoke from behind you, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his skin as he held the boy's wrist in an ever-tightening grip beside your face. He must’ve stopped the boy before he could hit you.

Another voice spoke up to your right.

“Try and hurt her again, any of you, and you’ll never get off again, got it?” This voice spoke in a cheerful, more high pitched tone, and you turned to look at him, causing the shortest male of the bunch to smile kindly at you. You finally processed what was happening and backed up further, going towards the group of incubi and sighing in relief as they circled around you protectively. You mumbled a “thank you” but you saw Jungkook nod out of the corner of your eye, so clearly he at least heard you.

The attackers were clearly on edge now at the shortest boy’s threat and reluctantly backed off though not before shouting at you one more time. “That’s right you filthy whore, run back to your demonic sex toys!”

One of the boys huffed a breathless chuckle and you could’ve sworn his eyes flashed fully black before he snapped his fingers and hissed back to the boy spitefully. “Have fun trying to cum now you little shit!”

This was all a lot to take in and you were starting to feel a bit lightheaded, as it all hit you.

“Hey, Seokjin hyung, are Humans supposed to be that pale?”

You shook your head, trying to clear your mind and get your bearings as you groped for something to hold onto, taking a deep breath to keep calm as your hand was guided to a muscular arm which you squeezed gratefully. Eventually, you managed to come back to yourself fully, and blinked a few times, thankful you could see properly without the world spinning as it had been.

Once you looked around you flushed as you realized the men who’d stood up for you earlier were now observing you intently. You looked to your right and quickly released the tall boy beside you’s arm, blushing further in embarrassment. “I’m so sorry! I just got a bit dizzy is all.” You apologized to him, sheepishly rubbing the back of your neck.

He smiled at you, but it seemed forced. Your attention was brought to the one you now know was Jungkook as he bounded confidently over to you. “Thank you for standing up for me. I can definitely make it up to you…” His voice trailed off into a seductive growl that had you swallowing, and you stepped back in surprise as his nimble fingers briefly slipped beneath your t-shirt to skim your bare sides, making you jump away. “AGH, n-no that’s really not necessary!!” You squeaked out nervously.

You gasped sharply as you felt someone nibble playfully on your sensitive earlobe from behind, and you quickly surmised it was your savior from earlier, as his deep voice clued you in. “Oh, but we really wouldn’t mind princess. It’d be our pleasure, and yours too if your currently soaking panties are anything to go by~” He purred in your ear, grinning as you wrenched yourself away from him and put a bit of a distance between you and the other boys, suddenly dizzy for a much different reason.

“That’s enough, I mean it!” Your voice cracked and you nervously avoided their gaze, not used to boys being so...direct like this. It was flustering beyond belief, and if you were being 100% honest with yourself, hot as Hell. You finally looked up and felt another rush of pleasure go through you at the sight of one of them tonguing the inside of his cheek as he looked you up and down. His intense gaze suddenly met yours and he smirked, causing you to blush a darker shade of red as you ducked your head once again.

“I-I don’t even know all of your names.” You pointed out meekly, hating how submissive these 7 men were making you feel with just brief touches and looks.

The one whose arm you’d been clinging to snorted in amusement at your dazed state but obliged you nonetheless, with a simple nod. “Fair enough then. I’m Kim Namjoon.” He motioned to his friend beside him and he took over with a grin. “I’m Kim Seokjin!” He blew a kiss your way and chuckled as you looked away shyly. “The name’s Yoongi, Min Yoongi.” Your attention was brought to the person who spoke and you found it was the one who’d cursed the boy earlier. “Hello!! I’m Park Jimin, and you don’t need to be so shy cutie!” He giggled as you smiled his way, realizing he was the other one who had stood up for you. “I’m Jeon Jungkook, though I think you know that by now.” The youngest spoke up with a smirk.

“Aww you’re so adorable!!” you tensed before forcing yourself to relax under the sudden attack hug, returning it before he pulled back. “Hi!” He chirped. “My name’s Jung Hoseok, but you can call me Hobi if you want!” His cheerfulness did wonders or your nerves and you found yourself smiling back as you nodded, stepping back and turning to face the last boy in the bunch. He looked you up and down slowly before he chuckled in that deep voice of his. “Kim Taehyung, but you can just call me Tae sweetheart.” The way that nickname sounded coming from him was not helping your arousal and judging from the way his smirk widened, you guessed he knew quite well what effect his words were having on you.

You waved quickly, offering them a smile, along with your name even as you were trying not to clench your thighs and give away how truly horny you were. “I really should be going but I’m glad I could hel-” You were abruptly cut off by Yoongi.

“Going where, exactly? We all saw what happened back there, do you have a place to stay?”

You winced at the blunt reminder but hesitantly shook your head. “Well, no, but I’m sure I’ll find someplace!” You scrambled for an excuse to leave, trying to brush it off but Jungkook intercepted your path before you could go any further. “I can’t just throw you into the streets after you stood up for me, and lost your home because of helping me. Please, come stay with us.”

You opened your mouth to protest but Seokjin spoke up before you could. “We need a Human anyway. You may not know this since it wouldn’t affect a Human such as yourself, but in the fine print of the treaty, it was made clear that groups of 5 or more demons need to have a Human live with them if they want to obtain lodgings. They...heh.” He shook his head with a sarcastic snicker. “They don’t trust us demons as it is, and they don't like the idea of us banding together without Human supervision.”

You saw Namjoon roll his eyes at that, and you mulled it over. You checked your phone and quickly came to the conclusion that you didn’t have much choice. You were just about to start college, and you’d dropped out of contact with your high school friends after you’d graduated so it wasn’t as if you had many options. “Well...alright, fine. But we’ll need to set some ground rules when we get to the house, okay?”

Namjoon spoke up with a nod. “Sure, that’s fine. C’mon, you can just sit on someone’s lap in the back of the car.” He said casually, beginning to lead the way. On the way Hoseok slung his arm around your shoulder once again, making you notice he was quite the touchy-feely type, not that you minded. He was pouting though, which made you tilt your head in confusion. “Something wrong Hobi?” He seemed to perk up a bit at the nickname and nodded, if a bit nervously. “Well...why do you want to set rules? Do...Do you not trust us?” His voice is quiet, but resigned, like this is something he was used to.

Your eyes widen in surprise and you look up to see the others, while still walking, had an ear tilted towards your conversation. “Is that what you guys think? Oh my God, no, nothing like that! It’s just because there’s 7 of you guys and 1 of me. Plus, even though I know a little about demons and such, I really don’t know too many specifics. I didn’t even realize you guys were incubi until Jungkook pointed out that one guy was a sadist. You are all incubi, right?”

You jumped back as you accidentally bumped into Seokjin’s back as they’d all stopped out of the blue.

“What’s-?”

Your mouth went dry as you saw every one of them glaring at you intensely.

“You want to make rules? Fine, here’s the first one. Never say that name in our presence again. Got it?” Seokjin’s voice was a low rumble, a clear warning held within his words as he looked you up and down.

It took you a moment to put it together before your eyes widened and you nodded in understanding. Of course they wouldn’t want to hear God’s name come from your lips...they were demons after all. “Sorry I really wasn’t thinking…” You mumbled, shrinking beneath their gaze. At your frightened form, the boys all softened a bit, and Hobi squeezed your shoulder reassuringly, as Jimin spoke up to the left of you.

“No worries sweetheart, we just really don’t like hearing that name. Especially from those that belong to us. It may not make sense to you as a Human, but it brings out the worst parts of all of us when we hear it. The last thing we want to do is lash out at you when you haven’t truly done anything wrong.”

Namjoon piped up from aways in front of you as you all began walking again. “Anyway, to answer your last question...yes, we’re all incubi. We have a few friends who are other species but the 7 of us like to stick to each other most of the time. Safety in numbers and all that. Not to mention the amount of trouble some of our other kind cause.” He said conversationally.

You nodded in understanding and got lost in your thoughts as the boys bantered between each other. Your arousal was finally calming down to your utter relief, and you jumped in surprise as Taehyung waved his hand in front of your eyes, an amused grin tugging at his lips as he startled you. “Sorry for frightening you, but we’re here and you didn’t hear us calling you...” He chuckled.

You smiled apologetically as you shook your head to shake away your leftover thoughts, laughing sheepishly. “Sorry about that guys, guess I’ve got a lot on my mind. Where should I sit again?” You asked, feeling shy all over again as you remembered you’d need to sit on someone’s lap so there’d be enough room.

3 voices overlapped as they spoke at the same time. “You can sit with me!” Jimin chirped, while Jungkook leered at you. “My lap’s always open for you angel~” He purred with a smirk, and the irony of him calling you angel after just telling you not to say God in their presence wasn't lost on you. Taehyung meanwhile, looked you over unashamedly, before he shrugged. “Whatever will make you more comfortable.”

Seokjin huffed at the three youngest. “You three are shameless. Give the poor girl a second to breathe, she just calmed down.”

Jungkook’s smirk only widened and he met your eyes when his tongue darted out to wet his lower lip. “Exactly. Makes it all the more fun to get her wet for us again…” His voice was low and seductive and you found yourself blushing again as you pouted at him, even as you felt yourself growing slick. “Cut it out, this isn’t fair!”

Jungkook merely raised a challenging eyebrow in response. “Oh? Am I getting to you that much?” He huffed a breathless laugh as you crossed your arms in addition to pouting. “You’re so easy. I’m not even really trying you know.” He boasted.

You scoffed at that, and rolled your eyes, ignoring the way you saw his own narrow. “Whatever. Would you mind if I sat with you Jimin?” He’d been the one to mess with you the least out of the younger ones, so you were praying he’d have more self-restraint than the other two and show you a little mercy. You’d definitely need a nice cold shower once you were alone.

Jimin perked up at the sound of his name and sent you a boyish grin that had you smiling back unconsciously as you ignored the glare you felt burning into your back. “Of course you can!” You all piled into the car then, even though Taehyung pouted and you could still feel Jungkook’s eyes on you.

You hesitantly sat on the edge of Jimin’s leg in between Jungkook and Taehyung, barely sitting at all due to nerves as you held the handle tight enough that your knuckles cracked audibly. It wasn’t Jimin that you didn’t trust, he was nothing but sweet to you so far, but damn, if you weren’t still a horny mess from Jungkook working you up again. You yelped as Hoseok suddenly stopped short, causing Jimin to instinctively grab your waist protectively and pull you into him, and also rubbing your clothed core right into his thigh in the process. You couldn’t help your whimper and 6 pairs of knowing eyes were on you in seconds.

A loud honk at the back of you confirmed that it was actually 7 though Hoseok reluctantly returned his eyes to the road. You could still see his gaze flicking to look at you in the mirror anytime he could though.

You ducked your head in embarrassment as your cheeks burned, the intensity of all of their gazes not helping your dripping arousal any as you crossed your legs, and cleared your throat, trying to at least maintain some of your dignity.

The atmosphere of the car was thick with sexual tension, and you could distinctly feel how much from Jimin’s boner at your back.

“You don’t need to be ashamed, it’s us who should be. We're typically much better at controlling ourselves than this. I'm sorry babygirl.” You flinched as the sound of Namjoon’s voice broke the silence after a few minutes. You met his gaze and he suddenly inhaled sharply as your pussy clenched at the nickname that left his lips, cutting himself off. “You’re just-” He let out a chuckle and bit his lip, trying to fight his urges. Noticing his struggle, Seokjin piped up from beside him. “You smell so good, and because you’re a virgin in so many ways, that’s only enhancing every sensation, and making us want you more.” He admitted, voice a quiet mumble.

You blushed at Seokjin’s crude words. “How did you-?” Yoongi cut you off. “We innately know any Human’s sexual experience, and their biggest desires typically as well. Even the smallest kinks, things you want to experiment with, even if only once...we know it all, at just a glance.”

Hoseok suddenly stopped short again as someone cut in front of the black SUV, making you cry out in a half-whimper, half-whine, without conscious thought.

“Hoseok please-!”

A few groans emitted from the boys as they fought desperately to hold themselves back, but others were quickly starting to lose their composure. Hoseok met your eyes in the mirror at the next light, eyes hooded with lust, but with a dangerous glint you hadn’t seen before. “Sweetheart, if you call my name like that again, there is absolutely no way I’m going to be able to stop myself from pulling over and fucking you raw.”

Yoongi snickered huskily, and hummed, knuckles white from how hard he was clenching his fists. “Calls your name? If she makes another fucking sound I’m personally going to make sure she screams instead.”

The dirty words made your mouth dry and you swallowed, but nodded obediently, biting your lip hard to hold back God forbid Hoseok stopped short again. You started as Jungkook and Taehyung suddenly decided to teasingly walk their fingers up each of your thighs, making you try to lunge for their wrists, only for Jimin to easily hold your hands back, with a strength that took you off guard. When you looked back at him in surprise, it was like he was a different person entirely from the sweet boy you’d met earlier. You’d taken his silence and stiffness for control, and clearly, that was a mistake. He smirked at your shocked expression, leaning forward to leave a kitten lick on your ear that made you squeak before you quickly bit your lip harder than before at the warning looks Hoseok and Yoongi sent your way as he continued to toy with your sensitive ears, driving you absolutely mad.

Your ears, neck, and inner thighs were all highly sensitive areas for you, and it looked like the three boys were going to take full advantage of it.

Jimin's lips moved from your ears to your neck and began to leave playful nips and kisses on the exposed area while Taehyung and Jungkook's fingers reached the top of your pants. They shared a long look for a moment before you heard Taehyung let out a quiet huff, and abruptly his mouth took over Jimin's previous position, nibbling and teasing your ear, not unlike he had done in front of the cafe earlier.

Your attention was quickly brought back to Jungkook as he slowly pulled back the waistband of your pants, making eye contact with you and smirking as his hand slipped into them. You glared at him, opening your mouth to protest when he let one finger caress your clothed core teasingly, making you flinch violently enough that Jimin had to tighten his grip on you while Taehyung giggled quietly in your other ear, sending shivers down your spine. "I almost forgot how sensitive virgins are...ah, it's just so fun to tease you like this!" He mumbled, before returning to attacking your ear with renewed vigor. Your breathing hitched, the pleasure becoming enough to really make you want to cry out, as you tried to squirm in Jimin's iron grip.

You felt him smirk against your neck, but were once again distracted by Jungkook as he leaned forward to tease your other ear, whispering quietly. "Aww, is it too much for you? Scared you're gonna bring attention to yourself?" When you nodded, starting to turn submissive as your situation finally hit you, you felt Jungkook's teeth suddenly pull teasingly on your earlobe in unison with Taehyung, making you slam your eyes shut at the pleasure and frantically kick the air, while desperately trying not to vocalize how you were feeling. "Look what a good girl you're being for us princess." You registered that it was Jimin's voice by your neck now speaking. "Don't worry we'll help you be quiet~" Taehyung's deep voice at your left ear was the only warning you received before he offered you his index and middle finger. "Open." His command made you want to obey but your stubbornness won out at being humiliated like this and you instead tried to move your head away from him...and went right into Jungkook. "I'd do what he says little girl. You don't want to have us force you, and then punish you do you?" His voice was teasing but when you scoffed and turned to glare at him, the seriousness in his gaze made you shudder.

By now, your panties were completely soaked through, thank God you chose to wear black pants today so it wouldn't be too noticeable. You gulped, but tried to stay strong in your decision. You couldn't let them win, not when they'd decided to play dirty like this. "F-Fuck all of you." Your voice was a hoarse whisper but they all clearly heard it. Taehyhung let out a positively bone-chilling chuckle by your ear. "Oh, you're going to wish you didn't say that." Jungkook merely hummed. "I had a feeling you were a brat when you rolled your eyes at me earlier but to think you'd use such language? Tsk..." His hand cupped your core so unexpectedly that you couldn't hold back your gasp as he hissed in your ear. "We'll fix that." Jimin was oddly quiet and it was only when you'd calmed down and Jungkook pulled his hand away that he spoke, voice even and gentle. "That wasn't very nice of you to say, you know. We were even going easy on you." That made your eyes widen. Easy!? You'd never been so horny in your life, he had to be joking!

"Oh well, guess we'll just do this the hard way. Open."

This time, you heard his voice in your mind as well, and when you tried to fight it, you found yourself steadily growing more and more turned on. You tried to squirm in his grip but Jimin simply giggled and forced you still again with his superior strength, voice still deceptively light. "Bad girl. I said open." It was steadily growing harder and harder, and you were fighting desperately against his instructions until your eyes were literally tearing from so much pleasure. Jungkook relished in this, wiping away one of your tears as it fell and cooing at you. "Aww look how cute she is, trying to fight us. C'mon little girl, it'll only get worse the more you resist." His voice turned serious, as he growled. "Give in...Open your mouth." His voice merged with Jimin's in your mind, and you finally crumbled under the power of their suggestion. But you didn't just open your mouth. You begged, the second your lips separated. "Please stop it!!"

Your eyes opened wide as you panted...and locked eyes with the other 4 boys, all watching your predicament. When had the car stopped? You couldn't remember or focus on anything besides the pleasure the 3 younger demons had been giving you.

Now that you were back to yourself though, it hit you like a train what had just happened and you scrambled out of Jimin's now lax grip, desperate to get out of the vehicle you'd been trapped in. You caught your breath, completely humiliated and eyes teary for a reason much different than pleasure. You felt a hand on your back and actually jumped away. "Don't touch me!" You demanded, even as your voice shook with held back emotions. You saw Hoseok looking at you guiltily and looked away from him to glare at the three who'd put you in this state.

"What the Hell did you do to me? You...You were inside my head."

Truth be told...that made you feel more violated than any of their other touches.

Jimin looked genuinely sheepish as he stepped forward to explain, frowning when you took a step back, but staying where he was. "It's an ability of ours. We can suggest ideas in Human's minds. We typically disguise it better by tricking your mind into thinking it's coming from yourself but we didn't do that this time."

That made you scoff. "There won't be a next time, make no mistake of that. You had no right to do what you just did okay?" You snapped, clearly irritated, though truthfully, you were also disgusted with yourself, because part of you liked it and you just didn't know what to make of that. As if he'd read your mind Jungkook spoke up as he saw Jimin's face fall.

"You're overreacting. We made you feel good and deny it all you want, but you liked every minute of it."

You blushed but shook your head. "Even if I did, that's not the point! You need my okay first, you can't just overwhelm me like that without any notice!"

"So we're okay to do it if we ask you first?" Taehyung asked, eyes hopeful.

You sighed, shaking your head in exasperation, "I can't do this right now. I need a cold shower and a pair of clean clothes first and foremost. Then we're setting ground rules. Alright?" Taehyung, Jungkook and Jimin all reluctantly nodded and you turned to check on the older one's responses. Seokjin spoke up as you thought he would.

"I'm sorry, I should have stopped the-" You shook your head, holding your hand up with a tired smile. "Jin, I appreciate it, I really do. But I mean it when I say I can't do this right now. I feel absolutely disgusting, and I need a shower stat. Please tell me this house has a shower I can use to clean myself and calm down?"

"Oh, so you're still-ow!" Jungkook winced as Yoongi smacked him over the head for the suggestive comment he was about to make and you nodded at him in thanks.

"Yeah, I know where the shower is. C'mon, you can follow me inside." Namjoon interjected, starting to walk to the gate. It was only then that you bothered to take in where exactly you were. This place was so charming! "Woah...how the Hell are you able to afford this quaint little place?" You asked as you followed after him, trying to push what just happened to the back of your mind, at least for the moment. Namjoon smiled a bit despite himself at your childlike awe as he led you into the entry hall, the other boys not far behind, though they quickly separated to do their own things. "We've been demons for way longer than most, and while we've never had a need for Human money, whenever we recieved it, we kept it. You'd be surprised just how many of your kind tried to pay us for our services. It came in handy when we came to the surface, and let us get this place and any other necessities or things we wanted. We've got more than enough between the 7 of us to last us several mortal lifetimes."

You nodded in understanding as he led you further into the homey cottage, taking in its simplistic beauty as he opened a door and let you go first before closing the door behind himself. "I know you don't really have any clothes yet so I'm going to lend you some of mine for now. They'll be big on you for sure, but we'll go out and get some proper clothes with you tomorrow. The bathroom is right there to the left of you and there are fresh towels inside. I'll leave the clothes outside on the bed for you." He bowed his head and turned to leave when you asked him the question that'd been plaguing you since you'd first interacted with him.

"...Do you not like me for some reason Namjoon?"

He turned to face you with a smile that was a little too wide; eyes a little too perceptive.

"Why do you ask? I haven't given you any reason to believe that, have I?" He asked, voice calm.

You shook your head and shrugged. "No, admittedly, you haven't done anything outright. But all of the others have either shown explicit interest in me somehow or made an effort to be friendly, and you haven't really done much of either. In fact, the few times you have spoken to me, it's been very..." You searched for the right word. "business-like, I guess."

Namjoon observed you for a moment with an unreadable expression before he suddenly strode towards you, backing you up until you hit the wall behind you with a light thud. Your cheeks heated as he placed his hands on either side of your head, bending down to your height to look you in the eyes. He observed your expression for a moment, before he smirked suddenly, something you hadn't seen before. It changed his entire demeanor, making him seem much more intimidating, and suddenly you were hyper-aware of the fact that he was close enough that you could feel his breath on your lips. It smelled like cinnamon, and his cologne was intoxicating.

"Do I seem business-like now?"

His words snapped you out of your stupor as your gaze jumped from where you'd been observing his lips to looking into his eyes. You felt meek under the borderline possessive glare he was giving you and shook your head stumbling over your words as you were taken aback at his sudden change in demeanor. "I-N-No you don't!" His lips twitched into a smile then, and you found your mind going blank as his tongue darted out to wet them.

'I really want to kiss him.'

The thought came as your gaze flickered to his lips again, your thoughts drifting to how nice and plush they looked, and would surely feel against your own...you went to lean in, but he pulled away just as you were about to close the last remaining inch. Just as suddenly as he'd cornered you, he was leaving with a simple wave of his hand. "Go ahead and take all the time you need in the shower, the clothes will be there when you get out, and we'll have lunch once you’re ready."

You blinked once. You blinked twice. Then, you let out the breath you'd were holding and sank to the floor, cheeks blushing a ruby red as you recalled just how close his lips had been to your own. Your fingertips brushed against your lips and you sighed. You'd been so close to losing your first kiss. Seokjin wasn't wrong when he said you were a virgin in more ways than one. It was a bit embarrassing for you to be entering college, never even have experienced a real first kiss yet. Though living with these boys, you had the sinking feeling that wasn't going to be the case for much longer, no matter what rules you put in place.

What the Hell had you gotten yourself into, agreeing to stay with these people?

A/N: And that’s a wrap on the first chapter! I really, really hope you guys enjoy this, since I kid you not I stayed up until 5am last night typing all of this out lol. I worked really hard on it, so I hope it paid off! I think this’ll be a really fun world to play in so I’m excited to continue the journey with all of you guys!

Please send me an ask and let me know your thoughts since I crave validation and praise as much as Jimin! Also, feel free to tell me who you like the most so far, or who you’re looking forward for the reader to have interactions with! Kinks you potentially want me to explore would be super cool too! I take all of your feedback into account when I write!

Okay, bye-bye thank you so much for reading!

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thatisnicemahogany · 4 years

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Spine Breaker: Ch. 5

Summary: Life in the mafia isn’t just about killing and maintaining order, but also maintaining their lives as 7 individuals becoming family.

Genre: Mafia!AU with fluff and mild angst

Pairing: None? Platonic OT7?

Chapter TW & CW: Violence, language, familial issues

Series masterlist

CHAPTER FIVE: “Hoseok’s Backstory: Holding the Devil’s Hand”

Hoseok dropped the empty bag onto the couch, preparing to pack it for his fight later that evening. He’d done this countless times before, but for some reason his nerves were a little on edge for tonight’s fight. Tonight he was fighting Park Jisung, someone he knew would be a tough opponent. If the bets were any indication, the odds were apparently in Jisung’s favor, so the chances were that if he didn’t lose entirely, Hoseok’s ass would at least get knocked around a fair bit.

Typically, he liked to watch matches so he could learn the fighting style of potential opponents, but he hadn’t watched many of Jisung’s fights. Jisung fought really dirty and did some serious damage to his opponents, which had made them hard to watch. On top of that, he was a grade-A asshole - constantly running his mouth the whole time and walking around big-dicking it like he was the hottest shit in town. Most of his opponents left with broken bones or through automatic losses by knockout, and every bit of each win went straight to Jisung’s head. It didn’t matter if he cheated or played dirty to win, either - most people with an ounce of decency would feel at least a glimmer of guilt for winning by such poor standards, but not Jisung. No, Jisung seemed to pride himself in winning this way, as though it proved he had ambition by being willing to do whatever it took to win.

That’s not ambition. That’s obsession and greed, fusing together into a disgusting monster that rears its head in the worst possible way. And fighting works wonderfully as a vessel to feed this monster, allowing Jisung to fatten it up with cheap fighting tactics.

Letting out a breath, Hoseok rolled his shoulders before stuffing his first aid gear and hand wraps into his bag. The wraps were necessary during a fight to keep his fingers and wrists from getting damaged, and the first aid kit hopefully wouldn’t be necessary. However, in the case that Hoseok gets a gnarly gash somewhere crucial, it’d be completely essential to his continuation in the fight. Following those were three water bottles, since there was no guarantee there’d be access to drinking water anywhere nearby. Lastly, he prepared a change of clothes in case the fight lasted too long. Generally, he’d be able to get back to wherever he was staying, but sometimes the fight would last way longer than he anticipated, and it was good to get changed before heading back. Especially when he crashed with Hyoseob, who had a tendency to have people over late - and Hoseok hated trying to wind down from his fight with people around. On those nights, he found a nearby convenience store where he could clean up in their bathroom, buying a pack of gum to convince the worker to let him stick around. Then he’d either wait for Hyoseob’s group to finish up or find somewhere else to crash for the night.

Look, it’s the best he can do right now, alright?

Sighing, he yanked the zippers of his bag shut, looping the strap up onto his shoulder. He silently slipped out the door, making his way through the hall and down the stairs until he emerged out into the night. As he shut the door behind him, he pulled his phone out of his pocket: 9:00. Perfect. He began his walk down the street, hands shoved back into his pockets. He didn’t shy away from the eyes of those he passed if he managed to meet them - rather, he met them with a kind smile. Or at least, he hoped they would receive it as such. Hoseok often tried to face others with a pleasant demeanor to mask the inner anxiety surrounding upcoming fights. There had been times where he kept his head down, avoiding everyone’s gaze in an attempt to remain focused. Those were the fights he lost; he got too inside his own head, forced himself into a funk he couldn’t bring himself out of, then promptly got his ass kicked for doing so.

Turning a corner, he approached a familiar convenience store he used to visit when he still lived with his family. They wouldn’t visit together by any means - it had been a long time since they did anything together as a unit - but he would often stop by alone to pick up something on the way home from school, or go there to get out of the house whenever things were just a little too stressful. Over time, it became a sort of safe haven and he’d gotten quite close with the workers and owner.

Of course, he hadn’t returned since his family kicked him out. It’d been weeks since he last visited, but there never was a reason to come all this way. There were closer convenience stores to Hyoseob’s place, and he even still worked at the one two doors down from their building. If he needed to go to one, he’d go there - one of his coworkers would give him discounts, or even free food. Who’d turn that down?

Besides, he was never in this neighborhood unless he was heading to a fight. The fights changed locations most of the time, just to keep the cops from knowing where they’d be. Only a few had been this way, but Hoseok never stopped in the old store. Part of him didn’t know what to say at this point, especially since they’d probably ask where he’d been. Sure, if he’d been gone for only a few days or a week or whatever, he could probably play it off. But it’s been, what, 3 weeks? 4 weeks? There’s no easy explanation for that, and the truth is too hard to talk about.

Passing by the store was the one time he planned to keep his head down, out of fear that if he looked in the window someone may recognize him and start asking questions. The chimes of the bells on the door caught his attention, though, mainly out of worry about running directly into whoever was exiting the store.

He definitely didn’t expect to see his father and sister walking out of the shop, both looking over at him and meeting his eyes. He knew he probably looked like a deer in the headlights, shock written stark across his face. For some reason, he expected them to acknowledge him somehow - even negatively.

But no, nothing. A clear indication of recognition hit both of their faces, but neither stopped. They pressed right past him, treating him no different than any other stranger on the street. Hoseok absolutely expected this from his father; it was his parents who kicked him out, after all. But Heeyoung? They weren’t exactly close, especially after he’d left, but to act like she didn’t know him at all?

Well, she had always been their father’s favorite - the man never even tried to hide that from anyone. For all Hoseok knew, she was reveling in basically being an only child now. For all he knew, they didn’t miss him at all - and it sure seemed that way with what had just happened.

Then again, they could be worried sick about him. His father could be the only one still harboring strong feelings; his sister could just be mimicking this to stay on his good side; their mother could be being eaten alive by the guilt of abandoning one of her children.

No, that’s not very likely. If that was the case, why force him out in the first place?

Hoseok continued on to the formerly abandoned warehouse, trying his best to stay out of his own head. It was ten times harder now, after running into his family. How was he supposed to not focus on that betrayal, that hurt? Hyoseob always told him to let it go, and he tried, he really did, but it’s difficult. It feels impossible when it’s staring you in the face, when it smiles at you as it twists the knife in your back just a little deeper. How the hell is he supposed to be chill or relaxed or whatever at a time like this?

Huffing, Hoseok kicked a rock that was laying on the sidewalk, watching as it skipped down and dropped into the street. All he wanted to do in that moment was fight to get this anger and hurt out, but the fight didn’t start for another half hour. Besides, he tried to not use his emotions to fuel his fighting - that was dangerous fire to play with, and there was a thin line between using it to your advantage to win and pushing too far and hurting yourself.

Hoseok turned a final corner onto the side street where the warehouse resided. It had worn away over the time it sat empty, the exposed brick crumbling in spots and each gust of wind causing the wooden beams to threateningly creak. The previous owner left very little behind, and with all of the remaining clutter pushed back against the walls, the center of the spacious room was left bare and available for a hardy match. Between its unassuming nature and being tucked away from the main street, it was the perfect location for fights.

Luckily, as he entered the building, he noticed it seemed that he was the first one to arrive, which is precisely what he preferred. He went over to a mountain of pallets, cartons, and boxes, inspecting a few of the boxes on the ground. One in particular looked less gross than the rest, so he dropped his bag off his shoulder and into it. Although there were people who attended the fights that he could likely trust to watch his stuff, he never risked it - he couldn’t afford to lose his wallet right now. Before closing the box, he dug into his bag for his handwraps and water bottles, pulling them out and setting them on top once he finished closing it so he knew which one was “his” later.

He began to warm up, jumping in place and bouncing from foot to foot. His mind kept settling onto the hurt and betrayal from before, no matter how hard he tried to focus on other things. It didn’t help that what he was here for - street fighting - was the major drive behind the final falling out with his family. It was always something eating at him from the back of his mind, but now that he had another confrontation with it head-on, it was screaming at the forefront.

Things would’ve just been easier if he’d done what his parents had wanted. They pushed him towards legal fighting - Taekwondo in particular - when they found that that’s where his passion lied. They swore up and down they’d support him, so long as he worked at it and put his all into it. His father had been a touch wary at first, worried about his son getting involved in such a field, but warmed up eventually. Hoseok had been so ecstatic when they started supporting him; nothing could match the elation he felt when they offered to help pay for a trainer. He felt like he was on top of the world, like no one could knock him down. His dream of becoming a professional Taekwondo fighter was coming true - he found a trainer through the gym he went to, and worked his ass off with training every single day. He was on cloud nine, his family was supportive and happy, everything was outstanding.

But that all changed a couple weeks later, when he showed up to the gym and his trainer wasn’t there. He tried again the next day, and the day after that, and each time the trainer failed to show. He even tried calling and texting him, and the asshole still didn’t respond. When he asked around at the gym, the general consensus was that Hoseok had been scammed and the “trainer” went MIA once he got his money.

Of course, Hoseok completely lost his mind over this. If his parents found out, they’d surely get much stricter with the fighting - or bring an end to it altogether. His journey to professional fighting couldn’t stop after it had barely even started. Hoseok had been able to taste what the success would feel like, even without having fought in any real fights yet, and he didn’t want to lose it already. He begged and pleaded with everyone he could at the gym to help him figure out something so his family didn’t kill him. Eventually, he got a job at the convenience store, just to try and make some money to help pay his parents back. It helped, but it wasn’t nearly enough.

When his parents did find out, they were furious, berating him up and down for trusting someone who’d do this, livid he hadn’t caught any red flags or warning signs that the “trainer” should’ve been trusted. They forbade him from fighting any longer until he paid them back, and at his core, he truly understood and felt that was fitting. He knew he’d fucked up, he knew he should’ve been more careful, and the last thing he wanted to do was make them suffer for his own faults. With the truth out in the open, he picked up more and more shifts at the convenience store, trying his best to save up enough to just pay them back. He even obeyed their wishes; he stopped training at the gym, just sticking to running or lifting weights. For a while, it filled the void - he missed fighting, but keeping active made him feel like he hadn’t given it up yet.

It didn’t last very long. Soon, he began itching to fight again. Catching glimpses of other people training just like he had at the gym made his heart ache. The temptation grew and he gradually watched the other fighters more and more, yearning to be in their place. Then one day, someone took notice of him watching, offering to let him spar with them. How was he supposed to say no? He craved it like an addict in withdrawals, and his willpower to obey his parents’ orders had been so weakened by this point that he couldn’t help but cave in. He tried to justify it in his head - there wasn’t anything wrong with just one little spar session, and it wasn’t like he was training for a career again.

The one spar session turned into two, then three. It began luring him back to the sparring area during his daily gym trips, seeking out those sessions with anyone who was there. It still felt harmless to him, though; it was just for fun, just to keep his energy and skill up while he worked on paying his parents back.

About a week into returning to fighting, he was sparring with another regular fighter, Yongsun. They’d sparred a couple of times but generally didn’t talk much, simply going their separate ways once they were finished. However, this time, Yongsun called him over before Hoseok had a chance to leave.

“You know, you’re pretty good at this. You could make a lot of money fighting.”

A short glimpse of hope had fluttered up in Hoseok’s chest, only to be choked down with disappointment and guilt when his parents’ words flashed back through his head. “I can’t, I’m sorry. Thank you though.”

“Why not?” Yongsun pried, confused by Hoseok’s rejection.

“I just can’t.”

Yongsun snorted, patting Hoseok on the back. “Alright, fine. But just think about it.”

From that point forward, Hoseok began sparring with Yongsun regularly, and the pair grew closer, chatting more after their sparring sessions. Hoseok opened up about being scammed - it was shocking that Yongsun didn’t know, considering most of the gym was aware and semi-sympathetic at this point. Yongsun often proposed for Hoseok to fight in some way, and Hoseok always turned him down, wary of being scammed again and not wanting to get involved with another trainer. Although he looked at Yongsun like a sort of mentor at this point, he stayed guarded, his parents’ disappointment in him looming over him any time he even considered taking him up on his offer.

“Why don’t you ever take me up on fighting for money?” Yongsun asked him after one session, the pair heaving their breaths from exertion, working on packing up.

Hoseok shrugged, fixated on unwinding the wrap from his left hand. “I don’t want to go against my parents, I guess. I’ve already disappointed them enough.” Hoseok glanced up at the older fighter, who was watching him with a curious expression. “Don’t get me wrong though, I really appreciate you offering to train me. I want to take you up on it one day, if I can.”

Yongsun broke out in an animated laugh, rocking back and forth as his body was wracked with it. Hoseok blinked blankly at him, thoroughly confused at the reaction.

“I don’t want to train you, kid. I want you to fight with me.”

Hoseok paused, knitting his eyebrows in even more confusion. “Oh. I mean, I still can’t...my parents would know if I was fighting in the league here.”

Having calmed down a little, Yongsun still wore an amused grin, shaking his head at Hoseok. “Not in the league.” He scooted closer to Hoseok, looking around as he did. He lowered his voice to little above a mutter, forcing Hoseok to lean in to hear properly. “There’s sort of an...underground league, if you will. But it pays even better than the legal shit.”

Hoseok drew back, surprised at this revelation. “Wait, really? That’s what you fight in?” Yongsun nodded, taking a swig of his water. “So, what, do you guys fight here in the gym on your own time?”

“No, we fight in a bunch of places around the city. Usually abandoned buildings.” Yongsun pushed off the ground, holding a hand out to Hoseok to help him up. “Look, come with me to the next fight and just watch. You can decide if you want to join from there.”

From that first fight, Hoseok was hooked. There was a rush that came with fighting in general, but illegal street fighting? That was on another level. He’d be lying if he said that the money didn’t matter, as well. Sure, it was against his parents’ wishes, but the convenience store just wasn’t making a dent in his debt fast enough. Just three wins would give him enough to pay them back, and then they’d hopefully be more lenient on him fighting. That’s all he had to do - just keep at it until then, and then he’d be okay to stop and move onto the legal Taekwondo league.

He only got more drawn in as he kept winning. Those three wins came and passed; he paid his family back, and just as he suspected, they gave him the greenlight to return to fighting. He should’ve just stopped at that point, he should’ve quit street fighting and sought out a real trainer to get him into the legal league. But he couldn’t. He loved it too much - enjoyed the thrill too much, revelled in the success too much. He enjoyed the leniency that came with street fighting, how the rules were much more relaxed than in legal fighting. It added an extra challenge to matches, though. There were some who leaned into the fact that a lot of dirty tactics were ignored by moderators. Although he didn’t resort to dirty tactics himself, fighting against them added to the rush, made the whole experience a thousand times better than it had been when he was originally training for the legal league.

Hoseok groaned as he punched the air, still bouncing on his toes. Why didn’t he just quit when he could have? If he’d just stuck to the plan, just quit once he was back in his parents’ good graces, he wouldn’t be like this right now. He wouldn’t be starving because he couldn’t afford to eat another meal today. He wouldn’t be stiff before his fight from sleeping on a lumpy couch. He wouldn’t feel so fucking lonely and disappointed in himself.

Shaking his arms out, he paced in a circle, loosening up his legs. A few people were beginning to gather, keeping to themselves and chatting in hushed tones. Hoseok rolled his neck, feeling it crack two - no, three times. God, he really needed to sleep on something better soon. He wouldn’t be able to keep winning if he kept waking up like he was half frozen from cryosleep.

“Hey buddy!” Yongsun greeted, slapping Hoseok on the arm as he approached. He dropped his own bag next to Hoseok’s box before straightening up and crossing his arms tightly over his chest. “How’re you feeling? Ready to fight?”

Hoseok merely shrugged before stretching his arms out.

“Where’s your energy? C’mon man!” Yongsun teased, reaching out to jokingly swat at Hoseok. Typically, Hoseok was quick enough to bat him away, but with being in this headspace, he didn’t even react. Yongsun immediately frowned, stepping closer to the younger fighter. “What’s wrong?”

Hoseok sighed, looking over his shoulder as more people gathered in the warehouse. “I ran into my family on the way here.”

Shock washed over Yongsun's features as the realization dawned on him. “Shit. How’d that go?”

Hoseok stayed expressionless, attempting to mask any hint of the voices going crazy inside of him. “Fine, I guess. They didn’t acknowledge me.”

Yongsun hesitated in an attempt to tread lightly around the sensitive topic. “Maybe they just didn’t realize it was you?”

“They knew. I could tell.”

A few beats passed, Hoseok loosely still stretching out as Yongsun shifted his weight from foot to foot. Hoseok didn’t blame him for not saying much - what was there to say? “Well, look, don’t let it get to you, man. Take your anger out on Jisung.”

As if on cue, Jisung and a crowd of people with him noisily made their way into the warehouse. Hoseok watched on as he continued to stretch, somewhat taken aback by the number of people following Jisung. The fights always had their fair share of spectators, but the sheer number of people arriving with Jisung and crowding around him in particular was astonishing. “They can’t all be here with him, can they?” Hoseok asked Yongsun quietly, chewing on his lip due to nerves.

“He’s popular. They’re all probably his fans,” Yongsun explained, voice flat with irritation.

Hoseok cocked an eyebrow, looking over at Yongsun. “He has that many?” Hoseok couldn’t hide the slight intonation of awe in his voice, clearly intrigued by the idea of having dedicated fans.

Yongsun nodded, expression still apathetic. “I don’t envy him. Things get dicey when you get more fans like that.” Noticing Hoseok’s confusion, Yongsun explained further. “It’s not...unheard of...for some fighters to get...let’s go with ‘overzealous’ fans.”

Hoseok tilted his head as he stretched his arms out behind his back and brought them up over his head. “What, like crazies?” Although he found the concept amusing, the humor was lost as he saw that Yongsun didn��t share it.

“Some of them can go stalker-level. They follow you around fight to fight, next thing you know they’re popping up at stores and by your home. And what are you supposed to do, tell the police? ‘Officer, this person is stalking me because they’re a fan of me - oh, did I mention I do illegal street fighting?’”

Hoseok grimaced as he began to understand just how bad a situation like that could be. “Okay, okay, I get it.”

Before either of them could say much more, the moderator for the fight started gathering everyone together and preparing for the fight to start. Hoseok shrugged off his jacket, handing it over to Yongsun as he rolled his neck from side to side a few more times. He steadied himself with a few breaths as Yongsun placed his hands on Hoseok’s shoulders, looking him straight in the eyes. “You’ve got this, man. Don’t get too into your own head, just let that shit feed your fighting.” Hoseok nodded as Yongsun turned him around, clapping his hands down on his shoulders a couple times before digging his thumbs in to massage the muscles. He leaned in, mumbling quietly to be sure that only Hoseok could hear. “Kick his fucking ass.”

The crowd gathered around in a loose circle, with Jisung straight across from Hoseok. Jisung looked ready to kill him, eyes fierce as his jaw visibly clenched. He smirked as he met Hoseok’s eyes, both stepping towards each other. Hoseok refused to falter under his gaze, matching his intense glare with one of his own. The moderator between them cleared his throat before speaking loud and clearly.

“This is a no-holds-barred match up between Park Jisung,” the moderator gestured over to Jisung, the crowd cheering noisily for him, “and Jung Hoseok!” As the moderator gestured towards Hoseok, he noted the dampening in the cheering from the crowd. It was unsurprising, as he was a lesser-known fighter. He didn’t allow this difference in support to hold any weight; rather, he used it as fuel. Hoseok thrived in being the unassumed underdog. It just meant he had to prove himself, that he had a reason to win.

“This fight will go for three rounds, or until loss by knockout! Are both fighters ready?” The moderator looked between Hoseok and Jisung, both nodding and taking ready stances, their eyes never leaving one another. “And...fight!”

The moderator quickly stepped back away from the pair, watching intently from the sidelines as the two fighters approached each other. As Jisung approached, Hoseok noticed the other man likely took a more active offense approach with his fighting from the way he aggressively stepped forward. Hoseok was light on his toes, dodging as Jisung took a couple quick swings at him. He nimbly dodged a right hook from Jisung, ducking under it while using his right leg to swing out in a turning kick. His shin made contact with the side of Jisung’s thigh, causing the opposing fighter to stumble backwards in a failed attempt to dodge the kick.

Jisung’s eyebrows visibly furrowed in agitation, annoyed that Hoseok made first contact for the fight. It was Hoseok’s turn to smirk at him, slightly proud of himself. Jisung charged again, backing Hoseok towards the crowd behind him. This was one of the added challenges of street fighting: no ring. The fighters had to be mindful of their positions, otherwise they could easily collide with crowd members. There were no rules against crowd members getting involved in a fight, other than the understanding that the action happens between the two designated fighters. It was sort of an “unspoken rule” about the fights, something that bled over from the legal sport. However, in instances where the crowd strongly favored one fighter over the other, it was more likely to take place - even just through the crowd pushing one fighter towards the other. A seemingly small shove like that could throw Hoseok off balance, leaving him vulnerable and giving Jisung an opening. And with Jisung being so comfortable with fighting dirty, Hoseok didn’t want to think of how dangerous that opportunity could be.

Luckily, Hoseok had managed to learn a few tricks in the time he’d been street fighting, one of which being avoiding hitting the crowd. Managing to be mindful of his placement while fighting used to be quite difficult for Hoseok, and he actually ran into crowd members a couple of times early on. Thankfully, those matches weren’t too bad, and they didn’t involve themselves too much - but he highly doubted this crowd would do the same.

As he moved backwards, Hoseok veered left, trying to avoid backing into the crowd. Jisung continuously threw jabs and hooks towards him, but Hoseok continued to dodge them all, much to Jisung’s dismay. He was sure his ability to manipulate his opponent’s position in the pseudo-ring would come in handy if he ever fought legally as well, if that ever even happened. Though at this point, there wasn’t much reason to go fight legally.

Would his family take him back if he did?

Dammit, he was doing such a good job of not thinking of them, too. The pain from running into them at the shop came to the forefront of his mind, dividing his attention long enough to make him drag his feet a little too much. Jisung must’ve seen his slip in concentration, or maybe he’d just gotten lucky and landed one of the fifteen swings he just threw, and it felt like Hoseok just watched as Jisung’s right fist zeroed in on his jaw. The impact of his hit only managed to throw Hoseok off more, and suddenly Jisung’s left fist sunk into his stomach in a powerful uppercut.

With the wind knocked out of him, Hoseok hunched over, trying to retreat from Jisung. He knew the guy was strong, but he wasn’t expecting that. He managed to get just out of Jisung’s reach, righting himself and resetting his stance. The pair danced like this for a while, with Jisung pursuing Hoseok punch after punch while Hoseok fiercely swerved around each one. Hoseok was determined to not let Jisung make contact again, especially not by losing his focus thinking about - never mind that. Hoseok shook his head to regain his focus and zero in on the man in front of him.

At one point, Hoseok noticed as Jisung lunged just a bit too close to him, his feet too far apart to continue maintaining solid balance. Seizing this opportunity, Hoseok kicked out with his left leg, his foot making direct contact with Jisung’s waist. The impact knocked Jisung off his balance, causing him to stumble sideways with Hoseok closely following. Taking advantage of his opponent’s vulnerability, Hoseok threw a right hook followed by a left, connecting with Jisung’s side and then up to his chest. The opposing fighter blindly jabbed at Hoseok, managing to hit his chest and prompting Hoseok to back off again.

Once again, the fighters danced around each other, Jisung more conservative with his punches now that he realized they weren’t working. Jisung also appeared to be slowing in stamina, wearing himself out by his energetic fighting style. Hoseok maintained his own reserved style, saving his energy and plotting to outlast Jisung. At the very least, Hoseok could wait him out, let him wear himself down until he was too weak to properly fight against Hoseok’s onslaught. If he could just do that, he could secure a victory.

Jisung lunged in once more, again unaware of his disadvantaged stance. Although he was quite mindful of his placement regarding the crowd, it appeared that Jisung often was less self-aware of his body itself. He consistently broke his stance, and Hoseok wasn’t too sure if he simply was excellent at dodging Jisung’s attacks, or if Jisung wasn’t completely aware of where he was placing his hits. Hoseok had evaded the punches by side stepping to the right, putting Jisung slightly behind him and leaving him open to Hoseok. Hoseok quickly jabbed with the back of his elbow, striking the side of Jisung’s face before twisting and landing a hard punch on Jisung’s torso with his right fist. He bounced back before Jisung’s right hook could hit him, ready to dodge another.

However, before Jisung could follow through, the moderator interjected with a stern “time!” Jisung and Hoseok stepped away from each other, retreating to their opposite sides of the circle. Yongsun was waiting with a water bottle at the ready for Hoseok, holding it out for him. Hoseok took it and began drinking greedily from it.

“You absolutely crushed that first round!” Yongsun exclaimed, still using relatively hushed tones. “That one definitely goes to you. Just keep that same energy this round.” Hoseok nodded, panting as he tried to catch his breath. “He seems to lead with a lot-”

“-of punches, yeah. He leaves himself vulnerable,” Hoseok finished Yongsun’s assessment, handing the water bottle back to him.

“Exactly. Keep exploiting that.” Yongsun set the water bottle down on the ground before raising back up to look over Hoseok. “Need anything?”

Hoseok merely shook his head, working on regulating his breathing. He’d managed to catch it again, but now he worked on evening it out even more to relax some of the adrenaline pumping through his veins. The last thing he needed was to get too worked up and lose the lead he had.

“Fighters!” The moderator called, signifying the end of the rest break. Hoseok turned to face Jisung again, Yongsun patting him on the back before Hoseok stepped towards the center again. If Jisung had looked intimidating before, he looked monstrous this time around. He seemed to have come to terms with the fact that Hoseok had won the first round, and now he just looked pissed and out for blood. “On your ready…” The moderator trailed off, Hoseok cracking his neck as he readied his stance. “Fight!”

Unlike the first round, Jisung didn’t immediately launch into a pursuit of Hoseok this time; rather, the two fighters moved slowly, constantly facing each other as they moved in a circle. It appeared that Jisung was determined to fight more reservedly this round, possibly due to the realization of being unable to keep up the aggressive fighting style he had initially begun with.

The two stayed locked in a stand-off, and it appeared that Jisung was waiting for Hoseok to make the first move. Although he usually waited for his opponents to instigate things, Hoseok was riding on the high of having won the first round. He wanted to maintain that momentum, and he was worried that if he waited too long for the next round to really start, he’d lose it. Hoseok advanced on Jisung, not yet throwing any swings, only initiating movement. Jisung took the bait, throwing a hook that Hoseok smoothly evaded. However, Hoseok hadn’t expected to lean directly into a kick that hit him square on the calf.

Admittedly, Hoseok shouldn’t have been so careless as to not pay attention to the possibility of kicks coming his way, but to be fair, Jisung had really only thrown punches up to this point. Hoseok had assumed he just preferred to fight using his upper body and that he wasn’t comfortable using his legs. And where did that assumption get him? Knocked off balance while Jisung took advantage of his vulnerability, landing two consecutive punches.

Hoseok managed to break away, back up a few steps to give himself time to re-center himself. Jisung, however, didn’t give Hoseok a break, pursuing him and unrelenting in his assault. Hoseok kept backing up, trying his best to avoid each incoming punch and kick. Occasionally, Jisung would let up just a tad, but that was likely more to give himself a break instead of allowing one for Hoseok.

The crowd didn’t seem too pleased with the lack of action, murmurs of anger beginning to turn into yells. Typically, the crowds stayed relatively quiet - as quiet as a crowd of people could be, that is. It was another “unspoken rule” about the fights: avoid unnecessary noise to keep from drawing attention. Occasionally things could get a little rowdy, but most regulars would help calm things back down. This time, though, the crowd began to spew criticism towards the fighters, mainly directed at Hoseok.

“Quit running away!”

“Fight like a man!”

“Pussy!”

“Fucking coward!”

Although he tried his best to keep the comments from getting to him, he couldn’t help the irritation rising within him. He was already the underdog, but now he had to prove them wrong on this as well? Huffing, Hoseok pushed towards Jisung, aiming for a high kick. Jisung evaded, backing away from Hoseok once again. It felt as though the crowd’s critiques got louder, mocking him for missing. He had to land something, otherwise they’d just keep getting worse.

He lunged forward again, this time aiming a hook at Jisung and preparing to follow up with a jab. But Jisung blocked the incoming hook with his forearm, quickly reaching out and grabbing Hoseok’s shirt with his other hand. The arm that blocked Hoseok twisted, his hand latching onto Hoseok’s wrist. Now that Jisung had him in close quarters, he kneed Hoseok, hitting his upper thigh instead of his groin, as Hoseok assumed he’d meant. The blow pushed Hoseok back on uneven footing, but Jisung’s grip didn’t give. Hoseok threw as powerful of a jab as he could with his free arm, hitting Jisung in the ribs before Jisung kneed him again. This time, Hoseok was prepared and he twisted his hips away, ensuring that Jisung’s knee hit him on the hip instead of near his groin. He wrenched his right wrist, forcing Jisung to let go, and backed up as fast as he could to get him to let go of his shirt. However, Jisung’s grip still wouldn’t give, and both were thrown off balance by the movement.

The moderator intervened, pushing the two apart. “Reset.” Jisung let go of Hoseok’s shirt, turning to walk back a few paces. Hoseok watched as Jisung took a moment to fix his hand wrap before assuming a stance similar to Hoseok’s. The moderator swung his hand as a signal that they could return to the fight, and the pair resumed their slow moving stand-off. For a few pregnant moments, no movement was made from either party, both waiting to see what the other did. Sure enough, as it continued on, the crowd began to get antsy again.

“Come on!”

“Do something!”

“Kick his ass!”

“Get him, Jisung!”

That voice stood out above the others, sending an icy chill down Hoseok’s spine. It was familiar, too familiar, and he naturally scanned the crowd to find the voice’s owner. That sounded like his father - but there was no way he was here, right? He deliberately forbade Hoseok from street fighting, so there’s no way he would be here to watch a match for himself. Then again, his father was a strong believer in tough lessons. What if he was here to prove his point to Hoseok? What if he came to say “I told you so” and let him come back home?

For the short moment he looked, no face matched the one he was looking for. Suddenly, a sharp pain split across the back of his skull as Jisung punched him in the back of the head. Hoseok’s vision went fuzzy and blacked out momentarily. He was vaguely aware of Jisung grabbing his shirt again as another assault of punches was thrown at him over and over, though Hoseok was too disoriented to do much to counter it.

Again, the moderator intervened pushing Jisung off of Hoseok. “You pull anymore shady shit and you forfeit, Park.” The moderator kept them apart as both reset once more, Hoseok taking a moment to shake his head to clear his vision. He could vaguely see Jisung fixing his hand wrap again, but thought nothing of it as the two faced off once more.

This time, Jisung returned to his tactic from the first round, beginning his pursuit immediately. Hoseok shuffled away from him, feet dragging some from residual disorientation. He attempted to throw a kick and punch here and there, but nothing was landing. Luckily, nothing Jisung was throwing was landing either; each fighter was just barely out of reach of the other.

Occasionally, Hoseok blinked his eyes hard to try and keep his vision clear, finding it difficult to track Jisung’s quick movement. He knew he was using timid tactics at this point, but if he attempted anything more aggressive, he didn’t have the confidence he could land it properly without getting his ass handed to him double in the process. The punch that had connected with the back of Hoseok’s head was still disorienting, handicapping his abilities. He had to figure out some way to make it through to the break, some way to take back the lead that he was sure he’d lost at this point.

Jisung made a swift advancement on him, throwing a jab that caught him square in the jaw, which didn’t help with Hoseok’s vision problem. A hook followed, landing dangerously close to Hoseok’s eye and setting off a hot, stabbing pain across his eyebrow. A few gasps were audible from the crowd, and Hoseok was almost certain that something had been broken. Shortly after, an odd cooling sensation hit the same spot, confusing Hoseok but not stopping him from attempting to hit Jisung back. One punch had managed to connect with Jisung’s cheek, but as it did, something dripped from Hoseok’s eyebrow. Stepping backwards to evade anything from Jisung, Hoseok wiped at his brow with his forearm, not too shocked to see blood smeared across his skin when he lowered his arm.

Hoseok hoped there wasn’t much time left in the round, otherwise the cut could really mess with his fighting for the rest of it. He brought his gaze back up to meet Jisung’s, lunging at him to land another kick on his thigh. The pair exchanged blow after blow, things having heated up from the stalemate earlier in the round. Jisung had managed to land two punches directly on his jaw following Hoseok grazing Jisung’s ear with a poorly-timed jab. Hoseok continued having to blink hard, his vision still a little fuzzy from the blow to his head, as well as the mixture of blood and sweat from his exertion getting in his eyes. He aimed another jab at Jisung’s head, this time glancing off his cheek as Jisung evaded before landing his own jab on Hoseok’s clavicle.

Again, Hoseok blinked to clear the fluids getting in his eyes, but rather than it clearing away, the vision in his left eye became more blurred. He blinked again and again to try and clear it, but it just kept getting worse. To temporarily fix things, he tried to keep that eye closed, but this began to mess with his depth perception. He was essentially blind in that eye, and he was sure that Jisung noticed and was going to take advantage of it.

Sure enough, Jisung landed a couple rapid punches on Hoseok’s left side, connecting with his cheekbone and his clavicle again. Hoseok threw his own hook at Jisung, but he side-stepped to avoid it. Hoseok followed him with his “good” eye, turning his face to try and maximize the space that eye could see. He managed to block a few of Jisung’s hits, but he was throwing attacks at him too fast to catch them all. Another punch caught him where he assumed he’d been cut, and another hit him at the top of his sternum, scarily close to his throat. Hoseok tried to start taking up a solely defensive tactic, blocking everything he could, and it felt as though Jisung’s assault kept coming.

After who knows how long, the moderator called out “time!” Hoseok heard him clearly, and he was certain that Jisung did as well, but the assault didn’t end. The moderator called out again before getting fed up with Jisung not listening, physically pulling him off of Hoseok. Hoseok slowly made his way to his side of the circle, anchoring his left hand against his injured eye as he staggered up to Yongsun. Immediately, Yongsun grabbed at his hand and pulled it away from his face, inspecting the injury.

“Fuck, that looks deep.” Yongsun guided Hoseok to sit on a stack of wooden pallets, crouching down and digging through his bag to find some supplies to fix up Hoseok with. He pulled out a towel, wetting it with his water bottle before dabbing at the wound to clean up the blood. Hoseok winced, the area still sensitive, but didn’t dare pull away as he knew Yongsun was just trying to help. “I’ve got bandages, but I don’t know how much they’re going to help. This is bad enough you’ll probably need stitches.”

“May I?” A voice asked. The two looked up at a young man standing next to them, looking inconspicuous with his hood pulled up and hands shoved into the front pocket of the hoodie. He smiled warmly in response to the skeptical look that both Hoseok and Yongsun were giving him. “I’m a medical student, I can help.”

Yongsun glanced at Hoseok, who nodded in approval and slight desperation as he grimaced in pain. “Anything that’ll make sure I can keep fighting.”

Yongsun got up, moving out of the stranger’s way and handing him the towel. “Go for it. But if you fuck him up, I’ll kill you.”

“That’s fair,” the stranger chuckled, assuming Yongsun’s previous spot in front of Hoseok. Immediately, he pressed the towel up against the cut before talking to Hoseok. “I need you to keep this here for me.” As Hoseok followed his directions, the stranger turned his attention to Yongsun. “Can I see what supplies you have?” He asked, and Yongsun instantly dug his kit out of his bag and handed it to the stranger. The stranger peeked through it for a moment, assessing what tools he had at his disposal.

Humming in thought, he turned his attention back to the towel, lifting it away from the cut to take a better look at it. With his other hand, the stranger dug his phone out of his pocket, navigating it to turn on the flashlight. Careful not to shine it in Hoseok’s eyes, he shone it on the cut, gently using his free hand to palpate the skin around it. Hoseok stayed as still as he could manage, watching the man inspect his eyebrow.

“Well, it’s bad, but not horrible. It doesn’t seem like anything is broken.” Hoseok let out a breath in tandem with Yongsun, who watched on worriedly. “But your friend is right, bandages probably wouldn’t work well. They’d probably fall off thirty seconds into the next round, and then you’re back to square one.”

The medical student continued digging through the first aid kit, humming in approval as he seemed to find something. “This’ll work, though!” He held up a small container of superglue, smiling reassuringly at Hoseok.

“I totally forgot that I had that in there. I was ready to give him stitches on the spot.” Yongsun joked, causing both Hoseok and the stranger to chuckle.

“You could do that, but it’d probably hurt like hell,” the stranger mused, pulling out an antiseptic wipe and tearing it open. “Then again, this won’t be the most pleasant either, especially since there’s hair here. But I won’t be repeatedly piercing your skin without any painkillers this way.”

Hoseok’s eyebrows shot up, albeit painfully. “No thank you, let’s go with the glue please.”

The stranger chuckled again, using the partially bloodied towel to wipe at Hoseok’s skin in an attempt to clean off some more of the sweat and blood. “Sorry if this hurts,” he muttered as he followed up with the wipe, sterilizing the area and causing Hoseok to wince in pain. “Tilt your head back, please.”

Hoseok followed his polite orders, the stranger preparing to apply the glue. “This is also probably going to hurt, sorry,” he apologized again before squeezing some of the glue out along the cut. Hoseok hissed at the stinging, although it was duller compared to the throbbing he’d felt as he’d been cut during the fight. He stared at the ceiling high above him, barely lit by the light from the few scattered lanterns brought by attendees. Although it was pitch black now, too dark and far away to make out any details, he was sure it was dingy and unkept. This building, like most that the fights were held in, had likely been abandoned for years at that point. It was left unloved, meant to rot and crumble away until the city tore it down to make space for something new. Hoseok pondered on the irony of its husk secretly being used for these fights, already being utilized for new, lively gatherings such as these. If it wasn’t empty and abandoned, they wouldn’t have been able to use it for this, to be able to fill it with some form of life again, and for that Hoseok was grateful. Not all that was abandoned had to be left as such.

“How’s your vision?” The stranger asked, interrupting Hoseok’s thoughts. His hand was warm as it held the cut closed to give the superglue time to set, his touch gentle, yet firm.

Hoseok looked up at him, his face blurry and distorted due to Hoseok’s left eye. “My right eye’s clear, but my left one is a little blurry.”

The stranger’s brows knitted together, leaning in to take a closer look. “Hmm, did some of the blood get in it?”

“I think so.”

Still holding Hoseok’s eyebrow together, the stranger leaned away out of Hoseok’s vision. When he reappeared, he was holding up the water bottle that had been set aside. “We should flush it out.”

Hoseok swallowed thickly, attempting to nod under the stranger’s hand. He wasn’t the biggest fan of having anything near his eyes, but he knew it’d probably help him. The stranger popped the top of the water bottle, looking down at Hoseok. “Try to keep your eye open, okay? I don’t have enough hands to do it for you.”

Widening his eyes as much as he could to try and be helpful, Hoseok averted his gaze to the side, not wanting to watch the water be poured onto his eye. Out of his periphery, he could make out the hazy shape of the bottle lingering above his eye, light glinting off the water as the stranger carefully poured it. The sensation of it was cooling yet bothersome, and Hoseok involuntarily blinked rapidly, his head trying to jerk away from the stream but stopped by the stranger’s hand keeping it mostly in place. Hoseok rolled his eyes around for a moment as he continued blinking, actively trying to get the water everywhere so this cursed process didn’t have to be repeated. The stranger tilted the bottle up to stop the stream, waiting for a moment before asking, “How’s your vision now? Did it help?”

Once Hoseok was able to slow down his blinks, he tried to focus on the stranger, glad to see that his face was no longer distorted. “Much better, thank you.” He smiled gratefully up at the stranger, who returned it for a moment before disappearing from his vision again to most likely set the bottle back down.

“That motherfucker,” Yongsun growled, suddenly pissed for seemingly no reason.

Hoseok tried to look at him, but the stranger’s hand carefully held his head in place.“What? What’s wrong?”

Yongsun abruptly appeared in Hoseok’s vision, on the opposite side of him as expected. He kept glancing away towards Jisung’s side of the circle. “I think he has something in his wraps,” he muttered, irritation written all over his face.

“What?” Hoseok and the stranger echoed in unison.

“There’s something catching the light in his wraps and he keeps moving it around.”

The stranger peered across the circle, still holding Hoseok's eyebrow together. Hoseok could only manage to watch as his eyes narrowed scrutinizingly at Hoseok’s opponent. “You’re right. Maybe that’s what cut Hoseok?”

Yongsun’s eyes flared with fury as the dots were connected. “You’re probably right!” Looking down at Hoseok, Yongsun grimaced as he scanned over the cut again. “If that’s the case, we’re lucky he didn’t catch you a couple of centimeters lower.”

Hoseok’s stomach flipped nauseatingly at the mental image of what could’ve been. The mixture of disgust and horror must’ve been clear, as Yongsun muttered a quiet “sorry, buddy” remorsefully. Finally, the stranger let go of Hoseok’s eyebrow, apparently satisfied with how the glue set. “There we go, you’re all good now. But I’d avoid getting hit there again or expressing too hard; you don’t want to rip it back open.” Again, Hoseok winced at the mental image as he reached up to touch at the wound lightly with his fingertips.

“Thank you, I really appreciate your help.”

The stranger smiled warmly at Hoseok once again, something that should’ve been comforting, but had an underlying feeling of discomfort. He didn’t even know this man’s name. Why was he being so kind and helping him? “It’s no problem. Good luck!”

With a wink, the man stepped back as Hoseok sat up, nodding and holding a thumbs up to the moderator when he sent a look questioning if Hoseok was good. As the moderator settled everyone down, Hoseok pushed up to his feet, sighing as he began regulating his breathing again. He glanced over his shoulder at the man and Yongsun, who both smiled at him, before turning back to Jisung and approaching the middle once more. “Ready?” The moderator asked, paying more attention to Hoseok’s response than Jisung’s. After both affirmed that they were ready, the moderator swung his hand a final time. “Fight!”

The pair fell back into circling each other, their steely focus not leaving one another. Jisung struck first this time, approaching swiftly and attempting to land a jab on Hoseok’s left eye, clearly hoping that Hoseok’s vision was still messed up. To Jisung’s disappointment, Hoseok dodged, completely evading the hit. After a pause, Jisung tried again, this time with a right hook. Again, Hoseok swerved out of the way, this time sneaking in a jab of his own that caught Jisung on the ribs.

Hoseok heard as Jisung grunted in frustration, bouncing on the balls of his feet as Jisung recentered himself and attempted to reassess his opponent on the fly. In the meantime, Hoseok swiped his leg, kicking Jisung square on the side of his calf just below his knee. Hoseok allowed his momentum to carry him forward in an uppercut that got Jisung on his stomach before darting back out of Jisung’s reach. Jisung tried to hit Hoseok with a kick to the ribs, but Hoseok blocked him before landing his own kick on the same part of Jisung’s calf. Jisung’s knee slightly gave way under the attack, but he quickly corrected it as Hoseok backed out of reach again.

Satisfied with what he’d accomplished so far and in no hurry to get into another skirmish, Hoseok went on the defensive. Jisung was clearly growing more frustrated, likely feeling something similar to what Hoseok had felt at the start of the second round. Perfect, thought Hoseok, ready to watch his opponent give in to heated emotions that would result in his own downfall. He observed as Jisung lunged yet again, eager to land something, but only managing to glance his fist off Hoseok’s shoulder. Hoseok went for the same calf again, hitting hard and successfully making Jisung’s knee buckle. As soon as he had his foot planted again, Hoseok threw a jab at Jisung’s cheek, which was met by a weak block. This allowed Hoseok’s frame to restabilize, giving him a chance to build back up the power he fed into his next right hook.

Although he expected this, too, to be met with the block, he’d managed to aim where Jisung’s arms were not and hit him square on the temple. Instantaneously, Jisung crumpled and collapsed on the ground, all energy that had been keeping him alert and fighting endlessly entirely gone. Hoseok reflexively jumped back, expecting for Jisung to take him down with him, but instead was met with Jisung out cold on the ground.

“Winner! Jung Hoseok!”

An eerie silence fell over the crowd as the moderator announced Hoseok the winner, the crowd stunned at the turn of events. Slowly, they began to pull out of the daze and a mixture of claps and cheers filled the warehouse. A few of Jisung’s fans came to gather around the knocked out fighter, helping him sit up as he regained consciousness, unaware he’d been knocked out and had lost.

Panting, Hoseok rolled his shoulders back to release some tension. He muttered his thanks to those congratulating him as he passed them, making his way past the small crowd to his side of the fight circle. Yongsun excitedly cheered him on as he approached.

“Hell yes, man, I knew you could do it!” Hoseok muttered his thanks, smiling at his mentor. Yongsun started talking a hundred kilometers a minute, too fast for Hoseok’s tired brain to keep up with. The adrenaline of the fight was beginning to wear away and the exhaustion was seeping in; aches were radiating from every part of his body. A hot shower and a solid 18-hour nap was everything he wanted in that moment.

Yongsun seemed to have gotten the hint that Hoseok couldn’t handle much more tonight, so he patted him on the shoulder gently. Hoseok tuned back into what Yongsun was saying to the best of his abilities. “...I’ll see you at the gym, alright?”

“Sure thing man, thanks again,” Hoseok bid farewell to Yongsun, watching as he walked out of the building. He proceeded to dig his bag out of the box, unwrapping his hands slowly to take pity on his sore muscles. Stashing them away, he pulled his jacket on, fumbling with the zipper in the dim lighting. Hoseok dug his final water bottle out of his bag and took a few greedy gulps, not realizing just how thirsty he was and nearly emptying the whole thing in one go.

“Hi again.”

Sputtering a little in surprise, Hoseok twisted around to face the voice. He wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand as he coughed forcibly. “Oh, it’s you again. Hi. Thanks again for earlier - if it wasn’t for your help, I probably would’ve lost.”

“It was nothing. I’m happy to help.” The stranger from before smiled warmly at him, holding out a towel. “Congratulations on winning.”

Hoseok warily eyed the towel, cautious of it and the man holding it. Granted, the other man had helped him during the break in the fight and did a damned good job at patching up the slice on his eyebrow. Hoseok took the towel and brought it up to his forehead to wipe at his sweat, movements cautious and calculated. “Thank you.” After a beat of silence, Hoseok’s eyes met the stranger’s, and he swallowed uncomfortably. The man was still smiling as though he appeared to be giving Hoseok an assessment. Finally he spoke, “I’m sorry, but...who are you?”

The stranger chuckled, seemingly unphased by Hoseok’s question or apparent unease. “Oh, just a fan. I’ve been to a few of your fights. You’re quite impressive.”

Immediately, Hoseok’s eyes widened. He had a fan? He didn’t know he’d had one already. He really must’ve improved a lot to have gained a fan, especially one who had seen multiple of his fights. A sense of pride washed over Hoseok at this revelation, finally feeling like his work had paid off.

“It’s not...unheard of...for some fighters to get...let’s go with ‘overzealous’ fans.”

The sense of pride morphed itself hideously into a sense of dread, slowly being choked down until it dissipated. Unintentionally, Hoseok shifted his weight back and began to lean just barely away from the other man. Out of the corner of his eye, movement caught his attention, and he watched as the last few stragglers from the fight began to leave, meaning he was stuck here alone with this “fan.”

“Some of them can go stalker-level.”

Red flags and sirens began to go off in his head, every possible bad scenario running through his mind at once. He couldn’t possibly fight now, after such an intense match. Perhaps he could use his bag as a weapon? Maybe the towel, or his water bottle? The man in front of him didn’t look like much of a fighter, but looks can surely be deceiving - hell, that was something he relied on with his own fighting when it came to opponents who were unaware of who he was. For all he knew, this man was some top-level trained fighter or some shit.

While Hoseok was generally quite good at masking his emotions, he was entirely unaware of just how perceptive the stranger was. The stranger caught every small signal of alarm the other man gave off - the wide eyes shifting from surprise to horror, glancing around to assess the encounter in its entirety as Hoseok moved just a hair away from him. The stranger internally reevaluated what he’d said, trying to understand what could set off such alarms in Hoseok. Following Hoseok’s gaze, the stranger looked around and noticed they were the last ones in the building. Oh, he thought, he must think I’m crazy or something.

Realizing the misinterpretation of his words, the stranger chuckled again, thoroughly amused. He reached his hand out to shake Hoseok’s. “I apologize, that must’ve come off wrong. My name is Kim Seokjin, you can call me Jin. I’d like to buy you dinner. Think of it as a celebration, plus you look hungry.”

Confused, Hoseok took Jin’s hand, the pair shaking them and bowing simultaneously. Although he still wasn’t entirely sure of the other man, he did seem to have no blatantly malicious intentions. Hoseok’s stomach also happened to growl right on cue - and food did sound pretty good. It’d probably be the best meal he’d had since leaving home. “Yeah, okay, I guess that sounds alright.”

“Here you go!” Jin exclaimed, setting a steaming container of ramen in front of Hoseok. He noticed that Hoseok’s brows furrowed as he looked down at the disposable container, his metal chair shifting on its uneven legs as he leaned in towards the warmth. “By the way, sorry it’s just convenience store ramen. We’re a little tight on money right now.”

Hoseok waved his hands in front of himself, slightly flustered at the idea of Jin thinking he was anything less than grateful for this meal. “No, this is great! Thank you!” Reaching for his chopsticks, he scooted closer to the table, ready to dig into his ramen. “So...‘we’?”

Jin’s wide eyes met Hoseok’s, a large mouthful of noodles half hanging out of his mouth. Hoseok snorted as Jin, clearly very hungry, hurriedly stuffed them into his mouth and chewed. “My brother. We live together in a condo nearby.” Hoseok quirked his eyebrows in interest, prodding at his noodles to gather them for easier picking up, as Jin took a sip of his beer. “What about you?”

“What about me?” Hoseok asked, chewing on a healthy bite of noodles.

“Do you and your family live around here?” Jin noted the slight frown Hoseok gave at the word family, twirling his ramen with his chopsticks.

“Uh, no. My family doesn’t live in this area.”

Jin’s head tilted, intrigued, leaning back in his chair to stretch out some. “So you travel to the fights? That’s a long way to walk.”

Hoseok kept his head down, staring deeply into the swirling broth of his noodles. “I’m staying with a friend nearby for the time being.”

Given the frown from the mention of his family, Jin could feel that it was a sensitive subject and decided there was no need to keep prying at it. He took another swig of his beer, setting it on the metal table gently to avoid causing it to lurch in a random direction. Sadly, this outdoor furniture seemed to be relatively neglected - perhaps one of the other available tables were more stable? “So, how long have you been fighting?”

Hoseok visibly perked up with the topic change, some of the tension in him seeming to melt away. “Almost a year!”

“Really? You fight like you’ve been doing it for far longer.”

“Well, I did start training before that. I think last May? It was a little bit after I graduated.”

Jin nodded, avidly listening as he made his way through his noodles. “So, why street fighting? Why not go the legal route?”

Hoseok drank the broth, wiping a drop off his lip with the back of his hand. “It’s a lot of money, which I don’t have.” Setting down his container, he shrugged, looking over at the street as a car passed by. “Plus, there are all these rules and regulations with it. Don’t get me wrong, some make sense - I mean, that’s why our fights still follow them. But there are a lot of unnecessary ones that just get in the way.”

Jin’s grin from earlier returned, as though something had just clicked for him. Taking in the empty ramen containers and mostly-empty beers, Jin cleared his throat before shifting so he was sitting more forward, closer to Hoseok. “Look...we’re almost done here, so I have something to ask of you.”

A pink flush spread over Hoseok’s cheeks, settling on the tips of his ears. He fiddled with the beer in his hands, toying with the tab in particular. “I have a feeling I know what this is about.”

Jin sat up, eyebrows raised in genuine surprise. What?

Hoseok continued, flustered to the point of accidentally breaking the tab off the can of beer. “I’m sorry, but I won’t sleep with you.”

Jin’s eyebrows furrowed, his mouth dropping open in protest.

“Really, thank you for the dinner. It’s just...I’m not...It’s not that there’s anything wrong with you, I promise, I’m just...not-”

“I’m sorry, what? You think I bought you dinner to sleep with you?”

Hoseok flushed even deeper, avoiding Jin’s eyes. “I mean, that’s...kind of...what it seemed like?”

“That’s not what I’m doing!”

“Oh thank fucking god,” Hoseok muttered, letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He dropped the tab inside the can and set it on the table, slumping in his chair.

“I- what’s that supposed to mean?!” It was Jin’s turn to flush, visibly ruffled by the idea of someone being relieved at not having to sleep with him. “You know what? Never mind. We’re revisiting that later.” He punctuated his claims by pointing at Hoseok, who seemed a tad amused by Jin’s agitation. “I actually do have a question for you, which isn’t that.”

Hoseok stifled a laugh, biting the inside of his lip. “Okay, what is it then?”

“My brother and I- we run a...sort of...business? And you seem like you’d be a great addition to it.”

Hoseok raised his eyebrows in surprise - a job offer wasn’t exactly what he was expecting to be at the end of this conversation. “Why? You barely know me.”

Jin sighed, running his hand back through his hair. “You seem like you can more than handle yourself. It’s not really the most conventional type of job, but it does have benefits. It’d be a little safer than street fighting, but there still won’t be any rules.” Jin furrowed his brow as he reassessed what he’d just said in his head. “Well, there are rules - but they’re our rules. But it definitely has far less rules than normal jobs.”

Hoseok narrowed his eyes skeptically. “I mean, it does sound pretty good, but it also sounds kind of sketchy. What line of work is it?”

Jin’s eyes danced over the air above Hoseok’s head noncommittally as he clearly calculated his phrasing before saying anything. “Nontraditional.” Jin snorted at the irony - although he and Namjoon aimed to run their sector in a far less harsher way than other leaders had, there was still a sense of tradition that came with the job, especially given how Namjoon had inherited it. It was nontraditional, but with some of the most traditional of origins. “Look, it’s not something I should really be explaining here. Can we talk somewhere more private?” Realization flashed in his eyes as he sat up rather excitedly. “I know! Come with me to the condo - my brother can help me explain it to you.”

Hoseok sighed, looking down the road again in the vague direction of his friend’s apartment. “Yeah, sure, why not?”

“Yah! Namjoon, we have a guest!” Jin yelled as he and Hoseok walked through the door. Hoseok looked around, slightly amazed at the quality of the condo. It wasn’t flashy or overly-nice; rather, it just felt so homey. There were bookshelves practically overflowing with books, and he spied a comfortable-looking couch that had a plethora of blankets and pillows around it. An abandoned laptop and some textbooks laid open amongst the blankets and pillows, clearly belonging to someone who had just been studying. College student? Hoseok wondered, taking in more and more of the cozy atmosphere. There’s no way a college student - or two - could afford somewhere this nice.

“Oh! Hello!” A deep voice disrupted Hoseok’s pondering, drawing his attention to a young man peeking his head out from behind one wall. He can’t be much older than me, Hoseok guessed as the man - or teenager - hurried out to greet Hoseok in the same respectful and pleasant manner that Jin had earlier. “I’m Namjoon.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“Please take a seat. Sorry about the mess,” Namjoon mumbled as he fumbled to gather various textbooks and his laptop to make room for Hoseok. Jin had disappeared out of the room somewhere but reappeared moments later towing along a rolling desk chair. Quite awkwardly, Hoseok made his way to the couch, sitting rather gingerly on one side of it. “Would you like anything? I’m making tea right now, you’re welcome to have some,” Namjoon explained, tucking the books and laptop into a bookbag.

“Oh, sure. Thank you.” Hoseok continued to look around and take in the environment of the room as Jin plopped himself into the desk chair, accidentally making it roll back a little too far. In the background, Hoseok could hear Namjoon gathering dishes out of a cabinet, presumably for the tea. As Jin scooted up to correct the chair’s placement, Namjoon returned carrying a platter with a teapot, mugs, and what seemed to be sugar on the side. He set it down gently onto the coffee table before sitting on the opposite end of the couch. Hoseok watched as Namjoon poured the tea rather meticulously, handing out each mug as it was finished.

“So, who are you?” Namjoon asked Hoseok, settling back once everyone had been served.

“My name’s Hoseok,” Hoseok introduced himself, giving a timid yet bright smile to the other two men.

“He’s the fighter I told you about.” Jin remarked to Namjoon.

As Namjoon hummed and nodded in understanding, Hoseok sputtered. “You- You talked about me?”

Jin and Namjoon laughed in tandem. “Of course! I told you, you’re impressive.”

“I hear you’re quite the fighter. Jin-hyung wouldn’t shut up about you after the first time he saw you fight, he kept going on and on about how light on your feet you were and how it looked like you were dancing-”

“Namjoon. Shut up.”

Hoseok laughed, both amused by the pair’s antics and flattered at the description of his fighting. “I’m not that good yet. I’ve still got a lot of improvement to make.”

“Well, you don’t necessarily have to improve on your street fighting.” Jin mused, giving Hoseok a pointed look before turning to Namjoon to explain. “I offered for him to work with us.”

Hoseok turned to watch Namjoon’s reaction, who was nodding yet visibly setting his jaw and taking on a more steely look. “Did you tell him what we do?”

Jin shook his head. “No, I figured that’s something to discuss in private, which is why I brought him here.”

Namjoon sighed, relieved. “Oh thank god, I thought we were going to have an issue.” He turned to face Hoseok. “So, what’d he tell you about it so far?”

Hoseok glanced between the two unsuredly, taking a sip of his tea. “Well, he mentioned that it’s nontraditional and not the most conventional, but that it has its own benefits. He also mentioned that there aren’t really rules with it, but you have to follow your rules, so that was confusing.”

Namjoon looked at Jin completely deadpan. “That’s how you described it?”

Jin, affronted, scoffed at Namjoon. “How the hell else am I supposed to describe it without outright saying what it is?!”

Namjoon sighed and shook his head, turning back to Hoseok. “So, we work in my family’s business. Jin-hyung’s family started working with mine before we were born.”

“Wait,” Hosoek interjected, looking over at Jin. “You guys aren’t actually brothers?”

Namjoon sighed, shaking his head. “No.”

“We might as well be!” Jin protested, prompting a pointed look from Namjoon.

“Anyway, we have our hands in different businesses around the city and take care of the problems that come about,” Namjoon explained, pacing his words somewhat slowly to give Hoseok a chance to digest them. “Basically, we work for the mafia. Well, we are the mafia.”

Hoseok briefly froze before a loud cackle escaped him, a sound that racked through his whole body and seemed to echo through the otherwise quiet apartment. “You’re fucking kidding me, right?” His laughter died down as he saw how neither Jin nor Namjoon were taking part in his amusement, waiting a few beats for one to reveal the surprise. “You’re...not joking?” The pair shook their heads earnestly at him. “But, how? You’re both like, my age!”

“Well, he is,” Jin pointed out while nodding his head in Namjoon’s direction. “I’m older than both of you.”

Shooting Jin a glare, Namjoon faced Hoseok again. “My parents were the ones who ran it in this area for a while. They left to go help start a new branch in America, and they passed it down to me.”

Hoseok gaped at Namjoon for a moment, trying to process this information. “So...you run it...and you’re like...19? They trust you that much?”

Nodding, Namjoon poured himself more tea. “It should’ve gone to my older brother, but he didn’t want to be involved.”

“Why wouldn’t you want to be involved?” Hoseok questioned Jin, brows knitted in confusion.

Jin choked on his tea when he realized Hoseok was addressing him with that question, coughing forcefully. “Not me! I’m still involved, clearly.”

“No, my older biological brother,” Namjoon clarified, chuckling to himself. “But my parents left us here to run things, and we need to build our group up more. It’d help a lot to have a good fighter join us.”

Hoseok bounced his knee, chewing on his lip from nerves. “And what if I say no?”

Namjoon quirked a single eyebrow at him, still wearing a serious expression. “Then we’d have to kill you.”

At first, Hoseok thought the threat was entirely real. Namjoon was selling it to be - he looked deadly serious, shockingly mature for his age. However, seconds later, Jin began giggling, which broke Namjoon’s facade and made him break into laughter as well. Hoseok simply blinked in shock, bouncing his gaze between the two.

“I’m mostly joking about that. But we would have to take some pretty serious measures.” Namjoon explained, crossing one knee over the other.

Hoseok resumed chewing at his lip, grasping the mug of tea between both hands now as he felt his grip weaken due to the clammy sweat gathering on his palms. Although these two seemed trustworthy, he couldn’t help but be nervous over the information he’d learned. They seemed like people he’d be great friends with, yet they joked so casually about serious matters and, more worrisome, they wanted him involved in those serious matters. “I...what would I be doing? If I join?”

Namjoon brightened at the question, apparently consoled by the genuine interest that Hoseok appeared to have in the work. “Well, we can see what you’re most drawn to. It’d be good to have a specialty, so we can try a few different things to see what you like. It would be nice to have someone handle the more hands-on, violent jobs this early on, but I wouldn’t want to force you into one of those positions.”

“Right now, Namjoon and I basically do everything ourselves. You’d be trained to do a variety of things, but one particular specialty is always good.” Jin explained, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

The way the two bounced this proposal off of each other was a touch unsettling to Hoseok - it both gave him the impression that they’d done this before, but also that they were very much in sync with each other. That added another layer of anxiety to Hoseok’s nerves. How was he, an outsider, supposed to join this pair, who clearly were linked on another level? How was he supposed to be able to contribute to that in a way that was anywhere near as fruitful as what they could already do? “Do I have to decide now?”

A chorus of some variants of “no!” came from both Namjoon and Jin, as well as some encouraging words that Hoseok couldn’t quite make out over the thoughts rushing in his mind. All of this information was just too much at once, and he couldn’t quiet the thoughts down long enough to be able to focus on what either of the other two men were saying. “I...think I’m interested? I’m not entirely sure, honestly. This is a lot of information to take in, and I don’t know if I’m thinking clearly enough to make this decision. It’s...it’s just a lot.”

Namjoon and Jin both appeared to understand at the same time that Hoseok was feeling a little overwhelmed, and they both toned down their enthusiasm, nodding rather solemnly. “Would you like to stay here tonight while you think it over?” Jin asked, eyes trained on the potential new recruit.

Hoseok looked into his tea, the mug now lukewarm in his hands. “Would that be alright?”

“Of course!” Namjoon affirmed, smiling warmly at Hoseok. “You can stay here for tonight, and we can talk in the morning if you feel up to it.”

Hoseok returned the smile, his screaming thoughts slightly quieting down. “Thank you, I would greatly appreciate that.”

“Speaking of bed,” Jin yawned, stretching in his chair. “I think it’s time for it. It’s nearly 2 AM.”

Between the fight and the mafia stuff, the excitement had kept Hoseok pretty wide awake. Once Jin mentioned the time, however, Hoseok felt the exhaustion start to wash over him and his yawn followed Jin’s.

Namjoon chuckled as he watched the other two express their tiredness, pushing up from the couch. “Not for me, I have studying to do, but you two should definitely get some sleep. Hoseok, if you want, I can show you where you’ll be sleeping.”

Hoseok nodded, following suit in getting up from the couch and bidding goodnight to Jin, who appeared to already be slinking off to his room to sleep. Going up the stairs, Hoseok followed Namjoon rather silently down a hall to a room on the right.

“Here you go.” Namjoon stepped aside to allow Hoseok to step into the room and look around. “The bathroom is right next door. Please feel free to take a shower, if you’d like - I’m sure it’d feel nice, if you fight as hard as Jin-hyung says you do.”

Hoseok grinned gratefully up at Namjoon, setting his bag down next to the bed. “Thank you so much, for everything.”

Namjoon returned the grin, shoving his hands in his pockets. “It’s really no problem. If you need anything, I’m at the other end of the hall. I’ll be up studying, so you’re welcome to come get me.”

Hoseok nodded, looking out the window at the empty street below before turning back to Namjoon. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you again. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight Hoseok.”

After a long hot shower, Hoseok climbed into bed, his exhaustion having grown even more. He felt like he could melt into the bed, engulfed by the assortment of pillows and blankets, and the mattress itself - was that memory foam? Rather than melting into a fatigue-induced coma, Hoseok laid awake, staring at the shadows that danced along the ceiling from the lights on the street outside. His body craved sleep, but his mind was wide awake, back to racing with endless thoughts of his impending decision.

If someone was to approach him 8 hours ago and tell him that he would be offered a position in the mafia tonight, he would have laughed in their face. He didn’t even know there was a mafia in this area. And now, not only is there one, but they want him to join. How the fuck was he supposed to do that? What would people think about that?

Well, who was there to “think” about that? His family didn’t care anymore. For all they knew, he was dead on the streets. He wasn’t particularly close with anyone else. Sure, Hyoseob let him crash at his place, but they had entirely separate lives outside of that. And he had grown close to Yongsun, but mostly when it came to fighting - they never really hung out, and they definitely weren’t close enough to have Hoseok be staying with him. It wasn’t like he could tell anyone, anyways - he probably would be sworn to secrecy, forced to keep that part of his life entirely private.

But then again. Who was there to keep things private from?

It wasn’t the worst proposal that could’ve come his way. Hours ago, he wasn’t sure if there’d be hot water for his shower tonight. He had a place to sleep, yes, but it was a lumpy couch. And now, he’d had the most beautiful and serene hot shower and he was practically given this wondrous, stupefying, nothing less than a nest of soft bed, and comforting pillows and blankets that felt like he was being hugged by a cloud. In a matter of hours, the mafia had done nothing but give him a better life - even momentarily - and there was no doubt in his mind that the benefits would only continue. He’d have a stable source of these basic necessities, he’d likely be more than financially stable - it’d be thousands of times better than what he could manage on his own.

At the price of what? Killing people? Torturing them? Forcing people to pay debts that they owed? Living constantly in fear of being found out, considering probably 99% of the things they’d do would be illegal?

Could he do that? Could he handle that?

In theory, some parts didn’t sound too different from fighting. Hoseok loved fighting, he really did. He loved the rush behind all of it, the adrenaline that it brought. He loved calculating the other fighter’s every move, and doing everything he could to not only avoid getting hit, but to win. A sense of satisfaction came from winning, for sure, but a lot of his satisfaction in fighting had to do with how well he could do. How much he could avoid getting hit. How hard he could train and push his body to its limit.

How much he could push other fighters’ bodies to their limits.

How much damage he could do to them in the process of winning.

Blinking, Hoseok shook his head, trying to push out that thought. He didn’t really get some sort of enjoyment out of hurting them, did he?

On some level, yes. It usually happened more when the other fighters were complete dicks and needed to get the shit beat out of them. When they were assholes - when they said shit that shouldn’t be said, were cocky to the point of overrunning those around them due to their self-importance - they deserved to be hurt. And man, it felt great to be the one doing it. It tasted like justice.

Hoseok trained his eyes on one particular shadow, focusing on it so intently that it began to swirl and morph into different shapes and movements. This whole internal conversation felt so cliche - angel on one shoulder, devil on the other, the whole nine yards. The angel was going on and on about how the mafia can’t possibly be good, how they’re always shown to be doing horrible things in television and movies and clearly that’s a reflection of real life. It’d be more honorable to just make it on his own, even if he suffers along the way and it takes a while.

The devil, on the other hand, was tempting him with ramen, tea, hot showers, and this damn bed. The devil was telling him that mafia work would be like fighting as a job. He could live so much more comfortably, he could taste that justice constantly. After all, wouldn’t they be hurting people who did bad things? They’re the ones who deal with the mafia in the first place - and there’s got to be a reason they’re being targeted by them. They probably fucked them over, or didn’t stick to a deadline. They’d need to be taught a lesson, just like the assholes he fights.

And what about Jin and Namjoon? Sure, those material items the devil was tempting him with were from them - but those are also things they gave him from what seemed to be a genuine place. They really seemed like good guys, like guys he’d want to be friends with regardless of the circumstances. They’d shown him so much hospitality, even before they offered him a place in their world. They’d made him laugh, showed him more genuine care than anyone had bothered to in a long time. He felt more like family after only being here with them for a couple of hours than he’d ever felt with anyone else; even his real family didn’t match up. He had never felt truly cared for in his family, not in the way parents are supposed to protect their child. How did these men make up for that and more with some super glue, ramen, and a cup of tea? As much as it felt like the devil was what was tempting him to join them, the angel seemed to be giving in as well, drawn to their kindness and hospitality.

Joining the mafia didn’t have to be a bad thing. Of course, he’d know more after their talk in the morning, but he was almost certain it didn’t have to be a bad thing. If this night was any sort of an indicator, it wouldn’t be.

It’d be the best thing he’d done in a long time.

#bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #mafia au #bts mafia au #bts platonic #hoseok fanfic #hobi fanfic #hoseok fanfiction #jhope fanfic #jhope fanfiction #hobi fanfiction

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dippedanddripped · 4 years

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Eric Emanuel lives and works in New York’s Garment District, not too far from the factory where he makes his eponymous label.

“I set my whole life up here,” he says. “I live here, my office is here, the factories are here, and I get to see the madness all day.”

The madness occurs every Friday, where Emanuel releases a small drop of products on his website, where they usually last about a few seconds before selling out, much to the chagrin of his hundreds of thousands of Instagram followers. His line consists of many sportswear staples that characterize other independent streetwear labels: hoodies, T-shirts, sweatpants, and even some thermals in the cooler months. But the one thing he’s absolutely nailed? It’s gotta be the shorts.

Indeed, whether it’s solid colors or out-there prints that range from florals, paisleys, or an insane print of the New York City skyline, Emanuel has become synonymous with some of the best above-the-knee knickers on the market. And unlike the other New York Knickerbockers, Emanuel’s shorts have been big winners for his brand. In the past couple of years, he’s gone from hometown hero to global collab king, working with beverage companies like Mountain Dew, sneaker companies like adidas and Reebok, and now the Philadelphia 76ers basketball team on an array of covetable gear.

Emanuel’s personal uniform usually consists of a pair of his popular mesh shorts, a vintage tee, and a Yankees fitted. As a flex he’ll finish off the fit with a pair of his collaborative Reebok Club C sneakers, one of many models he’s done with the Boston-based sportswear label. But he’s also open to stepping up his game by switching it up with a pair of Gucci loafers, a clear co-sign of a trend that’s been spotted on Instagram. Then again, as Emanuel points out, part of the fun about his flagship product is it really isn’t that serious.

“I think that’s why the shorts have been such a success, because it’s not binary in the sense that you have to wear them in a certain way,” he says. “Wear it however you want, it’s a pair of mesh shorts.”

The king of shorts took a break from running his kingdom to talk about his rise to success, how he found his lane, and other project he has in the works. Ironically, it’s kind of a long story.

Where are you from Eric?

I’m from Syracuse originally, and then I moved here eight or nine years ago to go to FIT for marketing. Towards the end of my senior year I started making jerseys, and ended up running with that.

When did you start your label?

When I was getting out of school I didn’t want to go work somewhere, so I sort of just maneuvered — I was paying to make product off my credit card, I’d then move that balance to another card just waiting for that moment when a product would sell and I could pay the bill. Betting on myself, knowing some day it would work.

When does your shorts story begin?

The shorts would have been three years ago I think. I started with a heavier short — like a very traditional basketball short from Mitchell & Ness. But theirs wasn’t really what I wanted to wear. I didn’t like the big waistband; I didn’t like the weight. So I switched to something that’s practically my lacrosse short from high school — a very basic single layer short. That’s where I found success, but even so I would say it took until the end of last summer for it to really catch fire.

It seems when you do a drop every Friday it sells out instantly. Is that exhilarating or frustrating?

It’s frustrating. You would think that you’d be so excited to sell your product out in a day, that it should be this harmonious moment. Unfortunately, you have to deal with everyone who’s upset they didn’t get it. So I’m trying to find a balance of fulfilling the demand and going a little beyond it.

I had no idea this sort of “cozy revolution” would’ve taken over. Everything I’ve released over the past two months was made in the winter. The quantities were super low and it sold out way too fast. Then we had to stop making shorts for about two months and wait for New York to become a bit safer. It’s been a whirlwind.

How else has Covid-19 affected your business?

I pulled everything forward because I didn’t know where the economy was going. I didn’t know what was going to happen. And it sort of backfired in the sense that I ran out of product, and it wasn’t safe to continue making more until a month ago. That’s when we really hit the ground running. Everyone’s hungry to work, but it was very difficult to figure out how to do it in a safe manner. Now, whatever is made this week is being sold next week. And I’m very lucky that since I make the product in New York so I can sort of schedule it that way. In an ideal world, we would be six weeks ahead.

It’s pretty ballsy to call your product “The Best Shorts in the World,” but there it is printed on the packaging. What separates your shorts from others on the market?

I focused on a product that not necessarily everyone cared about. People would run shorts here and there, but it was never their core item. Instead of starting with a T-Shirt, I went into a market where there was less competition figured out how to own that. Why is it the best short? I think it’s because it’s essentially your favorite short, but a bit elevated. It falls little bit above the knee, you can size up if you want it to be baggier, and it just wears well.

There’s something for everyone. I personally like solid colors, but a lot of people love the patterns. The patterns tend to be motifs that I relate to at the time — sort of where my head’s at. I have an infatuation with rugs, so we ran with it. Luckily others seem to love rugs as well, because they’re probably the top pattern this season.

Speaking of balls, is there a recommended shorts-and-undies combo for maximum breathability?

Uniqlo Airism boxer briefs! I have such an appreciation Uniqlo basics. I’m there like once or twice a week.

At $98 a pop, that’s a good chunk of change, but it’s also not egregious. How do you justify that price?

I think $98 is a price most people are comfortable with given that they’re made in New York. If I had to wholesale these shorts, the retail should be at least $150 or $160. The fact that I do direct-to-consumer allows me to keep it at $98. At the end of the day, it’s not necessarily a “luxury product,” it’s a made-in-the-USA basketball short. It’s important to note that it’s made in New York and all the components are sourced from the United States. I get comments all the time of people saying: “Oh, he’s selling a pair of $10 shorts with a logo on it.” That’s not even close.

It’s expensive to make things here, but the craftsmanship speaks for itself. To speak on the process a bit: The mesh arrives; it’s sent to a cutting room; after that they’re sent to be sewn; a truck grabs them and takes them to be screen printed; another truck grabs them to where they’re steamed/pressed and packaged; and finally they’re shipped.

How does it feel to see people reselling your shorts?

I don’t think there’s a right answer for that. It’s a good feeling to know that your product’s in demand, but I’m also like: “Gee, I wish it went to the people that actually want it.” It’s frustrating when I see it on Grailed or eBay. People have commented that they wish I would do a pre-order so I can meet the demand, but I’m an instant gratification shopper — I want what I bought ASAP!

Beyond shorts, you’ve also done collaborations with New Era on caps, and kicks with both adidas and Reebok, how would you describe the EE signature touch to these products?

The partners I work with are all brands I grew up with. For the most part, I want all of the product I touch to remain as classic as it should. I may throw in my favorite “EE Pink” — PANTONE213C – the color blocking of the original product remains intact.

You’ve also got this 76ers collab coming up, right after another iteration of Iverson’s sneakers. Is it weird to be making basketball shorts when there hasn’t been a season until recently?

I always go back to one thing: Allen Iverson was always number one on my mood board. The recent collaborations are truly a dream come true. The lack of games hasn’t affected my desire for shorts — I love shorts with or without basketball, and whether it’s summer or winter. It’s exciting to see things kicking off this weekend though!

What other collaborations are you cooking up?

The Reebok Club C-EE is up next! My favorite shoe to date: an easy, everyday wear. It’s the first shoe I’ve done that my Mom and Dad can wear often, [laughs] that makes me so happy.

In the past you’ve experimented with fabrics like mohair, leather, and bouclé, both on shorts and sweatpants, is there a dream material you haven’t worked with yet?

I really love cashmere. Cashmere shorts would be amazing, but that seems like a pretty standard answer — so maybe GORE-TEX? That, and and more waxed canvas.

#sneakers #eric emanuel #shorts #allen iverson #streetwear blog #fashion blog

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taco-night-frenzy · 6 years

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Crocs and Robbers

Toadette and Goombella, two of New Donk Police Department's (or NDPD) finest.

It's a night in New Donk City like any other when they get the call that a certain crocodile crook is causing crimes. Can they apprehend such a slimy sleazebag? (Spoilers: Probably.)

Fandom: Mario Characters: Goombella, Toadette, Croco Rating: G Mirror Links: AO3 Notes: Think of this as a teaser for a much longer Detective Luigi fic I'm working on that will be based in the same universe as this one, and takes place before it. Thousand Year Door and Mario RPG will be represented most here, but there's going to be some slight references to Mario and Luigi: Super Star Saga as well, as that game will play a major part in the longfic that I'll be posting later. Hope you enjoy!

New Donk City moved with its usual hustle and bustle. Neon lights twinkled like the stars in the night sky, or at least Toadette assumed that’s what the stars looked like. Not that she ever saw them here. Toads of every shape and size mingled happily along the sidewalks, with even a few Koopas and Goombas mixed in! Maybe things here in Mushroom District were actually turning around.

“Hey, hey, Toadette!” Goombella yelled, mouthful of shroom crepe, crumbs spilling out with each word. “After our shift, we should totally go shopping! You need some better off-duty clothes, girl! Also, you gotta try this, it’s great!”

“I’m driving!” Toadette complained weakly, but truth be told, she just didn’t want to eat it. It probably wouldn’t look good for a couple of cops to be eating sweets while patrolling. “Plus, I think I dress just fine! It’s comfy! My vest and dress match with my hair, you know?”

“Yeah, but every Toad dresses like that! It’s so basic, y’know?” Goombella completely ignored Toadette’s complaint, holding up the crepe in front of her with her mouth. It wasn’t like she could use her hands.

Toadette tried to mask her expression but felt at least a little heat in her cheeks. To Goombas, mouths were just like their hands. It wasn’t anything weird to them, but it still took some getting used to. Toadette took a tentative bite of it, making sure not to get too close to Goombella’s lips. Sweet creamy vanilla meshed together with light rubbery mushroom, all tied together with a fluffy wrap. It shouldn’t work, but…

“Tastes all right,” Toadette admitted, not exactly a huge fan of mushroom style foods, being a Toad and all. “Is this from Zess T. again? Isn’t she, like, basically holding you ransom for money?”

Neon yellow from a Fire Flower sign hit Goombella’s shocked face, her blonde hair highlighted with red light. “Huh? W-well, I mean, I did step on her contacts… You gotta respect her culinary talents though.”

Toadette frowned. “I don’t like the way she treats you. You’re a cop, you know? People should treat you with respect. Just because you’re not a Toad-”

“She does!” Goombella argued desperately. “Just, um, in her own way. Or else, I don’t think she would have given me this treat.”

Before Toadette could counter with ‘Well you gave her those ingredients to make it!’ a raspy Toad voice screeched out from the radio.

“All units, all units! There is a robbery in progress at Dixie Orphanage over at the intersection on Dixie and Cranky Street! Suspect goes under the name of Croco and is reportedly armed and dangerous!”

“What the heck?”

“What the hell!?” Goombella practically spat out her crepe. “Orphanage? Who the hell robs an orphanage?! I knew Croco was low, but this?!”

Toadette wracked her brain. She should know this one, she really should! But… just in case. “Uh, who is Croco again?”

Goombella shook her head. This kind of thing always came so easily to her. Goombella knew everyone and everyone knew her. Toadette didn’t understand how this could be.

“He’s that purple skinned crocodile! He’s partners with Popple! You know, the self-proclaimed shadow thief? They’re a bunch of jerks who’ll do anything for a quick coin! Apparently, even stealing from an orphanage. Croco’s known for his bombs, so it’s best we keep a safe distance. Also!” Goombella seemed to get really offended at this part. “That freak wears crocodile skin crocs! Can you believe it? Totally messed up, and totally tacky!”

Like always, that was a little more information than Toadette needed, but she appreciated it anyway. Before she could hit the sirens, her phone vibrated in her pocket. She quickly glanced at the message.

Yahoo! Hiya, Toadette! Just lettin’ you know I’m gonna be out late tonight! Gonna go explore some old building by Smithy’s territory! Heard a rich old Boo used to haunt the place, so there’s probably treasure! Don’t call the cops on me if I’m not in time for breakfast at Shimi’s lol. -C. T.

“Eh? Who is it?” Goombella asked anxiously, gobbling the crepe down quickly. She really wanted to hit the siren button.

“Just my brother,” Toadette sighed. “Going out to explore some haunted house by Smithy’s. I’ll call him back later.”

Goombella frowned, the effect less powerful when she had whipped cream around her lips. “Hey, you sure he’ll be okay? That’s not a safe part of the city, y’know?”

Toadette quickly put away her phone. “The Captain’s always fine, you know him. He’s done stupider things. Anyway, we really should get going! I want to show Chief Toadstool we don’t need Mario’s help for everything!”

“Ohmigosh, I know!” Goombella said excitedly, bonking the siren button with glee. Red and blue lights swirled above, and already cars were moving out of their way. “Peach never thinks I can do anything! She always credits you!” She rummaged under her seat. “Hold on, grabbing the mushroom.”

Grinning, Toadette slammed her foot down on the pedal, deftly weaving through the streets. “I know, I know, the Chief still has a little trouble with Goombas,” Toadette said, drifting left through an intersection, the blaring sirens filling her with adrenaline. “But she’s warming up to you! Honest!”

Goombella hopped back up onto her seat, red speckled mushroom held daintily in her mouth. “Psh, don’t I know it. Even took you a while to trust me.” It was hard to tell what with the world spinning around in flashes of light and sound, but Toadette felt a hint of sadness there. “I’m glad I can help with the Goomba rep though, y’know?” She grinned. “Anyway, you ready to boost, girl?!”

“Yes, ma’am!”

With an excited huff, Goombella stuffed the rubbery thing inside a little tube on their dashboard. Instantly, the engines exploded with power, and the exhaust rumbled as their little cop car shot out of the streets and dangerously into the night air.

“Woo ho ho hooo!! Yeah!!” They screamed in unison, barreling towards whatever criminal thought he could cause trouble in their city.

Tires screeched, and car doors slammed. The orphanage was illuminated in the color of justice, red and blue. As per usual, Ted N. Toad was the first to arrive, but also the last to actually do anything. Luckily for Toadette, he had at least set up some police tape and was hooting and hollering at any passersby to stay away.

“What’s the situation, Ted?” Toadette asked the worried looking Toad, hands at her hips.

“H-he’s got the kids and Monster Mama hostage!” Ted said, stumbling over his words. “I-I would have gone in there and handled this myself, but I left my bazooka at home…”

“Sure,” Goombella said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. A very powerful move, considering most of her body was eyes. “You say that every time, Ted.”

Other Toads didn’t take well to Goombella’s sass. “H-hey! I would have! Really! Where’s your bazooka then, huh?”

Goombella didn’t back down to them. Not anymore. Toadette was here. “Don’t need one. Isn’t that right, Toadette?”

Toadette nodded smugly, her hand motioning around the glowing Fire Flower in its holster at her side. Goombella may not have been issued her NDPD (New Donk Police Department) Fire Flower like everyone else, but Toadette would be damned if they’d give her crap about it. A bonk from Goombella hit way harder than a Fire Flower ever would anyway.

“W-well, whatever!” Ted whined, pouty face at full force. “Things are a mess right now. His demands are insane! I have no idea what we should do!”

“What’s he want?” Toadette asked, already afraid to hear the answer.

“A million coins!” Ted cried, throwing his hands up in the air dramatically. Are us Toads always like this? Toadette thought to herself.

“A million?!” Goombella repeated angrily. “The Dixie Orphanage barely makes ends meet as it is! Monster Mama relies on donations to keep it open! What the hell is Croco thinking?!”

Hearing the commotion outside, a slimy voice oozed out into the streets from the orphanage. “Nyah, see, it’s a great plan you maroons!” Through one of the windows, the purple croc stuck a megaphone cautiously, his cliché voice echoing out for everyone to hear.

“Ain’t nobody wants to see a buncha kids explode, see? You pigs’ll pay up! And, AND! If ya don’t, I bet that big palooka, Bowser, will, see? Buncha little Goomba kids and Koopa kids in here! That jerk’s LOADED!”

“You slimy freak!” Goombella yelled back, hopping up onto one of the police cars. “Bowser talks big, but he’d sooner smash you and the orphanage just to shut you up! If you keep talking like that, there’s gonna be an army of Koopatrol’s out here, busting down the door!”

“S-should she be talking to him like that…?” Ted whispered.

“It’s fine,” Toadette replied. “She knows what she’s doing when it comes to speaking.”

“But, uh… antagonizing the guy holding a bomb to an old lady and kids?...”

“Shhh, Ted.”

Croco’s voice broke over the megaphone and an old lady’s raspy voice made it out during his shocked state. “…see I told you…” followed by an overly loud “Quiet, ya wise guy!”

“Toadette, hand me a megaphone will ya?” Goombella said in a hushed tone. Toadette retrieved it quickly from their car, propping it up in front of Goombella. “Thanks.” She cleared her throat.

“Hey, Croco! So where’s your pal, Popple, eh? Not like you to go out on your own!”

The gator’s eyes swiveled back to the window, his pupils sharp as his teeth. “Why should I tell ya nothin, ya dumb broad!?” He hissed into the megaphone, making sure to puff his cigar out the window for everyone to see. “Popple was busy, see? Said he had more important things to do than rob an orphanage! Can you believe the nerve of that guy?”

Goombella grinned a toothy grin to Toadette, one that only they could see. “Oh, really? Why’s that?”

Croco was clearly getting worked up talking about his partner, leaning outside the orphanage’s window. “Said he had some bigwig to talk to! What’s a bigwig want with a thief likes us, eh? He just doesn’t wanna hang out anymore, I bet!”

Goombella nodded along, but her eyes locked onto Toadette’s. She was giving her a signal. Her eyes glanced at the front door of the orphanage. The place only had two floors, and certainly wasn’t well fortified. Next to all the other tall buildings, the orphanage looked like an on old sack of potatoes left to soak in the rain.

Toadette cautiously stepped forward, making sure to stay out of Croco’s eyesight. He was busy complaining. She gripped the stem of her Fire Flower tight, feeling the heat of its petals burning the air around her. One wrong move, and everything could come burning down. Literally and figuratively.

“Yeah, Popple always has been a totally bossy jerk, hasn’t he?” Goombella said. The way she talked about the guy, it was so strange, it was like she really knew everything about him. “Gets angry at the drop of a hat, too, right? Bet you hate having him as a partner sometimes.”

“Ugh, yeah!” Croco groaned, opening up the window just a little more, cigar now held casually between his scaly fingers. “Literally, too! I drop my hat off while we was muggin’ some chump last week, see? Guy blows a gasket! Starts callin’ me a big dumb palooka, sayin’ I don’t respect the job!”

Toadette used this time to reach for the door. Flimsy. Felt like she could rip it off its hinges pretty easily. But also locked. Croco wasn’t that stupid. She turned to Goombella who was chattering away with Croco like a gossipy school girl and motioned a fist silently at the door. Goombella nodded.

“OhmiGOSH!” Goombella shrieked into the megaphone. “TELL me about IT! My BOSS is TOTALLY the SAME WAY sometimes, Y’KNOW?”

Croco rubbed a slimy finger into his ears, cringing at the horrible static noise coming from Goombella’s megaphone. “Yeah, I know, but do ya gotta scream about it, ya dumb broad? Geez. Thought I heard somethin’ too…” He turned back away from the window for a moment. “Hey, old hag, you trip or somethin’? Keep quiet!”

Toadette let out a sigh of relief, brushing off the splinters from her uniform. The door had fallen apart like a wet pile of twigs at her tackle, and thanks to Goombella, it seemed Croco was none the wiser.

“Man, and just who is Popple to tell you off like that?” Goombella went on, her voice carrying that strange attentiveness. Toadette hoped she never faked it like that with her. “In front of a dude you’re robbing, too? Like, hello!? Embarrassing much?!”

“Oh yeah! And get this…” Croco continued, completely lost in her storm of gossip. At least Toadette knew she should be fairly safe. For now. She’d have to act fast. Gossip only stayed interesting for so long.

Three pairs of eyes gazed out of a doorway at Toadette’s sneaking form. Each eyeing a different part of her. One on her badge, one on her pigtails, and one on her Fire Flower. Goomba triplets. They were tiny, even for Goombas. Their age couldn’t even be in double digits yet.

“Heya, lady!” One called out. “Hey, are you here to get that stupid gator guy?” Another said. “He’s a jerk, I hate him! He kept saying to call ‘Uncle Bowser!’” The third whined. “We don’t know him! Our daddy did, but he’s gone! Monster Mama said he’s working for Uncle Bowser.”

If Toadette hadn’t spent so much time with Goombella, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to interact with these little Goomba kids so easily. Being chatty was clearly a Goomba thing, wasn’t it?

“Shhh,” Toadette hushed them softly, nodding along to them. “I am here to get him, but you guys need to be quiet for me, okay? Why don’t you three run along and…” She struggled to think of something. “Play pretend shop or something?”

“But lady!” The third little Goomba whined. “We got nothin’ to sell!” The first one explained. The second one was happy just looking upset and giving Toadette big puppy-dog eyes.

Gah, she didn’t have time for this. Toadette was no good with kids! She had to think fast. She swung her head around, looking for anything in his dingy little building, her pigtails slapping her in the face at the motion. Ow! Stupid things!

…. Oh! Wait!

“Here, sell some mushrooms!” Toadette whispered, undoing the pink mushrooms at the end of her pigtails. Her braids fell apart, pink hair falling at her back, but she saw the way the kids’ eyes lit up and knew she had made the right decision.

“Gee, thanks, lady!” The Goomba triplets said in unison, catching the pink mushrooms in their fangs with ease. Smiles on their faces, they scampered into another room, calling out some other kids to come look at the new stock they got in their store. At least maybe the others wouldn’t be too scared.

Finally, she could make her way up the stairs unhindered. Each stair creaked awfully, but Goombella appeared to have Croco in her chatty clutches.

“So, I says to him, I says…”

“No way! He said that?”

“He did! Like, I get that he takes thieving seriously, but I gots feelings too!”

His voice became clearer and clearer, and Toadette knew she had found the right room. She’d need to end this quickly. Breathing deep, she clutched the doorknob, and swung it open, shouting in her most police-y voice, “Freeze! Claws where I can see ‘em, Croco!”

“Nyeh?!” Croco grunted, cigar falling out of his fangs and onto his crocs. “Yow! W-what’s the big idea!?” He stuttered, staring into the emotionless eyes of a burning Fire Flower. “Y-yous dumb broads! You tricked me! That ain’t fair!”

The old Toad known as Monster Mama quickly scrambled out the doorway past Toadette, whispering her thanks along the way. She’d keep the kids safe. Now it was just him and her here in what looked to be the orphans sleeping quarters.

“Sorry!” Toadette grinned, loving the power that came from a situation like this. “Let’s make this nice and easy, okay?”

“Oh nice!” Croco growled, gritting his fangs together so hard that sparks flew out. “Real nice! Pretend to be my friend, eh? Knew I shouldn’ta trusted nobody but good ol’ Popple! Well, well, tell you what, kid!”

“Stop talking!” Toadette commanded, her hand tensing over the stem. “I told you, put your claws up!”

“Sure, sure,” Croco conceded, lowering his sack of presumably stolen goods to the floor. “I just need to find a way to pay ya back, see?”

“Enough!” Toadette growled, eyeing the wall behind him. “Claws up, now, or I shoot!”

A snarl. A flash of fangs and white. His claws were out and lusting for her neck. “Pay ya back in spades, kid!” He spat, saliva dribbling wildly down his snout as he lunged.

He was quick, but Toadette was quicker. She fired her shot. It missed him.

“Ha, dumb broad!” Croco laughed manically, clearly forgetting the bouncy nature of these fireballs.

Before he could reach her, the flaming ball bounced harmlessly against the wall and back at him, engulfing his tail in hot red. The thug toppled down before her, legs a blur as he ran circles, smoke trailing behind like he was trying to send out a smoke signal. If anyone could read it, it’d probably say, ‘Help, my tail is on fire.’

“Yeowch, my tail’s on fire!” Croco translated helpfully, chasing after his own tail like a dog. Still, even now, he thrashed about, sack and all, pushing Toadette into the center of the bed filled room. She waited till he calmed down, finally having caught his flaming tail, sucking on the thing with tears in his eyes.

“Give up yet?” Toadette huffed, clutching her Fire Flower confidently. “Or should I turn up the heat?” Oh, that sounded cool. She wished Goombella heard that.

“Grrr! You’re a filthy cheat!” Croco hissed. “Well, I can cheat too, see?!” In an impossibly quick motion, he reached into his sack and pulled out a tiny bomb, shaped like a bob-omb. Cute. “Bombs! Never leave home without ‘em.” His fangs splayed wide in a terrifying smile. “Try settin’ me on fire again, dumb broad! See what happens! Blow us all to smithereens!”

Toadette flinched, still keeping the Fire Flower’s gaze at the smug crook. “You’re out of your mind!”

“I’m a bettin’ gator!” Croco growled, eyes glowing wildly in the doorway. “And I bet you can’t do it! Sure, you’ll get me, but you’ll be blowin’ up all the kids too! Boo hoo, ain’t that sad!?”

Her mind was a torrent, her hands were shaking. She had nowhere to run here in the middle of the room. She had no time to think. She messed up. Bad.

“That’s right,” Croco said, his voice low. “That’s what I thought, toots. Now, yous is gonna drop that Fire Flower, real slow, see? And when yous do that, I’m gonna cut ya up into mushroom stew! And then I’m gonna-”

Bonk!

Huh!? Bonk!?

Croco’s body fell to the ground like a pile of fake crocodile-skin wallets, his tongue lolling out of his snout. Goombella landed next to him with a stylish flourish and a wink, her head only slightly bruised where as his was already growing a massive red bump.

“What a sleazebag!” Goombella huffed, looking over his unconscious head. Coins danced around him instead of dazed Power Stars. “God! I’m so glad I got to slug him after talking to him so long! Yuck! Next time, Toadette, you do the talking, and let me do the action stuff.”

“Oh, Goombella!” Toadette cried, running forward and hugging the blonde girl tight. “You saved me! Thank you so much!”

“W-what’s with you?” Goombella’s voice was muffled in their embrace. “I thought that was your plan! Get him in the doorway so I could sneak up and bonk him, y’know?”

Toadette shook her head, smiling so hard it hurt. She kept squeezing Goombella in her arms like she was a big soft plushie. “Nope! I didn’t mean to do that at all!”

“Ohmigosh, you ditz!” She laughed, now finally accepting the hug more. Toadette’s pink hair fell onto hers making them a big mess of sweat, tangled hair, and maybe some tears. But that’s okay. Goombella wouldn’t tattle that part. It was tough to let go, but Toadette decided it’d probably be good to let Goombella breathe.

Her cuffs made a satisfying clink! as Toadette snapped them over Croco’s limp wrists. Just in case.

“Peach is gonna flip when she sees you nabbed Croco!” Goombella cooed, gathering up his body onto her head, carrying him out of the orphanage with ease.

“When she sees we nabbed, Croco!” Toadette corrected, opening the car door and stuffing him in like a bunch of old socks and sandals into a closet. “I couldn’t have done it without you!”

“Aw, she’ll never believe I did anything.”

“I’ll make her believe it if I have to!”

Goombella looked down at her feet. “You totally don’t have to do that.”

“I don’t, but I want to.” Toadette nodded, her hair feeling weird against her neck. Maybe Goombella’d help her braid it back to normal again after.

She turned to the dumbfounded Ted N. Toad, who looked like a bazooka had gone off right in his face. “Take care of this for us, will ya, Ted?”

“U-uhm! Y-yes ma’am! I’ll, um! Get statements and clean up and let everyone know we’re good here!”

“Thanks.”

When they got back into their car, Goombella grinned towards Toadette. “I totally heard your corny line, by the way. About ‘turning up the heat.’” She giggled. “That was GREAT.”

“Oh my gosh, don’t tease me!” Toadette whined playfully. “It sounded cool in my head!”

“Sure, sure, whatever you say, girl!” Goombella laughed as their car pulled back out into the bustling streets of New Donk City. Just like always, the neon lights greeted her with their alluring twinkling. “But after this, we so gotta go shopping, okay?!”

“Aw, c’mon! I gotta be up early to meet my brother for breakfast! How about tomorrow night?”

“Okay, okay, fine!” Goombella agreed happily.

It wasn’t long before their conversations returned, talking about this and that, and what tomorrow might bring them. Toadette was glad she had such a good partner, glad she had someone to share these lonely drives with. Maybe she’d miss their shopping spree or whatever, but there was always tomorrow. Goombella and this city would always be there waiting for her tomorrow.

#mario #goombella #toadette #croco #paper mario #super mario rpg #fanfiction #my stuff

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youthincare · 6 years

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[ image description is screenshot of facebook page Toronto IWW General Defence Committee Local 28 that says, “this site holds the personal journey of Allison, an Anishinaabe woman and survivor whom experienced intense abuse at the hands of Canadian Child protective services. These letters, videos, and other evidence tell her life story - from her point of view - aiming to help victims and expose the disgusting reality of Canada-bred colonialism. Please share widely! #familiesbelongtogether.” ]

Allison:

I will begin by saying the following information can be triggering for many people. Especially Indigenous People and it includes extremely sensitive subject matter. Please have supports present if you fall under the following categories (not fond of that term, but it is what it is);

Residential School Survivors Sixties Scoop Survivors Victims of Millenial Scoop (ongoing Neo-Colonism) Domestic Violence Victims Sexual Abuse Victims Justice System Victims Victims of Discrimination via Health Care Systems Victims of Human Rights Violations Victims of Disenfranchisement whether legally in the past or via Modern Day Disenfranchisement by way of Neo-Colonism Human Trafficking Victims

The attached letters include my personal journey while attempting to navigate the Federal and Provincial Policies that we as Indigenous People are Governed by via the Corporate Government of Canada. Kanata. They essentially contain my life story. Like many of our People a time came when Child Protective Services began knocking on my door. At the time I had no way of knowing where this would lead me and had I known I may have ran for my life with my children tow. I didn’t though, but I also didn’t give up. Although this Correspondence is Traumatic in Nature, there is also hope within these pages. If you know where to look, there is always hope and I aim to touch the hearts of those with similar stories and also provide them with a Template of sorts as to how I effectively protected my family so that maybe they can dig deep within themselves, find that fire within and use to Protect their families from the Vast Amounts of Systemic Racism we as Indigenous People face on a daily basis. Our lives being Politicized for us through the Indian Act and other Discriminatory Federal and Provincial Policies. I dare even say Genocidal Policies. Debwewin.

If you look into History, you will see evidence that the Settlers often used our own People to aid in their Assaults on us. This has not changed, a Symptom of Intergenerational Trauma is Lateral Violence. Heartbreaking but true. Divide and Conquer often being an effective technique during times of War. Debwewin.

“A Nation is not defeated until the Hearts of its Women are on the Ground.” A well known Cree saying. How is this accomplished? By going after the children. Instilling Patriarchal Policies, Seperating Tribes and Clans. By removal of the Matriarchal Ways of Being by which we Governed ourselves Pre-Colonization. By Removal of our Traditional Ways of Life and rendering our Women Silent on Matters that control their very lives.

Victims of Domestic Violence are not protected but Prosecuted. Their children taken by force. Assimilated into the Justice and Child Welfare Systems. Our sons are denied appropriate services and Educations until they are forced into a live by gun die by the gun lifestyle. Gangs, Prisons, and Graveyards claim our sons as their own. Our daughter’s forced into unsafe positions. Outside most Women’s Shelters, Group Homes, Jails, and Child Protection “Safe Houses” you will see vehicles. I have seen them with my own eyes. Been followed and stopped by them many times in my life, both as a Youth and an Adult. In these cars are Pimps. Ready to sweep away young women with broken hearts with promises of Safety and Belonging. Grooming behaviours. I have buried many Sisters in my life because of these cars and dangerous men behind their windshields. I speak now for them. To Honour their Lives because I survived it.

Our Communities often do not help us. Band Systems are Government Systems. If a child gets sent to live with Family, the Band gets Funding for that, the Child Welfare Organizations get funding for that. The Familes themselves often get Funding for the extra Children in their Care. Corruption allows these “Corporations” to decide amongst themselves who will Parent who’s Children under the guise of “Kinship Societies and Agreements” This is what I faced. I had no idea how high this corruption would go. Each step I took, each letter I sent I thought to myself….”This will be the one, someone will hear me.” I was wrong. Devastatingly wrong. My children though ARE in my Care. I DO still hold Sole Custody. It was these letters, how I wrote them, and how I sent and Served them that made all the difference. Communities should not have so much say over Children. Children are born to their parents, not to Government Systems. Yes they should stay in their Communities when they ARE in need of Protection, Kinship was our ways, but how it’s being done is not true to the Traditional Ways and is riddled with Colonistic, Patriarchal, Racist, and Genocidal Characteristics.

My Mother In Law wanted my daughter. I believe she wanted to her in Part to ease her own guilt at failing her son, who spent the majority of his youth in Juvenile Detention Centers. Cecil Fraiser. Another reason I contribute to this is it was merely their way of ending relationships. Their Cycle of Trauma repeating itself from Generation to Generation. Jealousy, feelings of Betrayal, Intergenerational Trauma. Although this infuriates me to no end, I see the Trauma behind it and so attempt to remove my personal emotions and look at the Whole of the Situation. A Birds eye view if you will. Taking this approach saved our lives. It truly did. It was anything but easy. My anger runs deep. My disgust runs deep. My sadness runs deepest. I grieve this woman I once loved. I grieve her everyday but I know she is not safe for me. Her Trauma will kill me if I allow it too. So I won’t. I’ll fight till the bitter end to remove her control over my life and the lives of my children. Even if it costs me my life. This Cycle of Abuse….ends here. My children and future Generations mean that much to me. I would die for them. Willingly give my life for theirs.

I do hold Imartial Documentation relating to these claims. Which is why nobody will Serve me or attempt to remove my children. Not Child Welfare, not Michipicoten First Nation, not Toronto District School Board Trunecy Office, the Office of the Attorney General simply hangs up on me, in fact upon speaking with United Nations I have been referred to Amnesty International. That’s how high the Corruption went. That’s how vast the Human Rights Violations committed against myself and my family were. Amnesty. Faaaack.

When it became clear that taking my daughter via Child Protection was NOT going to work. I was Served with a Motion to Change an Original Order. I fully expected this. In fact I am quite comfortable in a Court Room. They were now on my turf. Debwewin. Relief set over me. At first I was very quiet in the Courtroom. I bit my toungue and allowed them to build their Case against me. My Lawyer was not responding to me anyways. I eventually held him accountable. I looked terrible in Court. Dilico Anishnabek Family Care was flat out refusing to be Transparent. They told me they were only required to issue a lettter whether I had an open case, a closed case, and if I was cooperating or not. So I stayed silent. For years they had been investigating me. Sometimes as much as weekly. I knew full well what claims would be made against me because Dilico had already investigated them all. False Claims against me began happening in rapid succession. My home and my children’s school constantly being infiltrated. My daughter, ONLY MY DAUGHTER, constantly being pulled out of school to be interrogated without Representation, our home Investigated, our fridge went through, our bedrooms viewed, HER Health Records requested…again ONLY HERS, not my sons. My daughter began to break down under this pressure. She TOLD Aimy Price and Teresa Black, an Intake Worker for Dilico and a Family Support Worker from Michipicoten First Nation that she wanted her Father and her Nokomis to stop. She was ignored and a Privacy Breach took place. My ex, Benjamin Lewis, was given extremely sensitive information and confronted our daughter with it. She completely broke down. Details are provided in my letters. She had a Suicide attempt at school. At this point I had already obtained a referral for a Psychiatrist. Dilico Mental Health, a different Department under the Umbrella of Dilico Anishnabek Family Care WERE SUPPORTIVE of us throughout our battles with their Child Protection Department. I would like to Thank the Individual people that supported us through this time, without you we never would have made it. You know who you are and know how much we love you. Miigwetch….will all our hearts Chi Miigwetch.

At this time, very suspicious behaviour was taking place. Some involving my sister to whom I’m not close. I didn’t see the connections until a few months later upon looking back. I was shocked and furious that my sister was affected in this way. Although we are not close, I love her with all my heart. Nobody deserves what they did to her. Luckily she is a force to be reckoned with herself and had no problem effectively holding them accountable. By them I mean Michipicoten First Nation. Chief Joe Buckell was found guilty of Workplace Harassment and Wrongful Dismissal by the Human Rights Tribunal. Rock on Sister…you are a Warrior, Ogichidaa Kwe.

I was soon asked to sign Consents for the Courts regarding Child Protection Files, Police Records, and Health Records. I signed without question. At the time of my daughter’s Suicide attempt I had written Commissioned Complaint letters and sent them Registered Mail to Executive Director Darcia Bourge. I told my lawyer I would be writing my own Affidavits from here on out and he would be serving them unless he wanted my next letter to be to the Upper Law Society. He was surprised but did as asked. I attached my letters to my Affidavits as Exhibits along with Corresponding Health Records. This essentially flipped the direction Court was going. My Mother in law was removed from Supervising her sons access and as I requested his Step Father was put in his place. It’s not so easy to control his step father and he was soon left without a willing Supervisor and was Reduced to Supervised Access at a Temporary Access Center. When Lynn Tegosh, his Legal Council realized what I’d done she attempted to proceed without the Records. She was swiftly denied by the Judge. All Parties fought Subpoenas relating to the realease of their files. It was not until August of 2017, an entire eight months after being Subpoenaed that Dilico finally relinquished their Files for the Courts viewing. I felt physically sick to stomach when eight bankers boxes worth of files were realeased and it was discovered that in all those years they had NEVER had the grounds to serve me with a Protective Application. The Police Records never did reach the Courtroom. The week before a schedualed Mobility Hearing thatbwasvexpected to be remanded due to lack of Police Records, Benjamin was charged with an Assault on his new partner as well as Possession of Weapons while under a Weapons Prohibition. I also had secured an Investigation for Criminal Harassment, Making false Allegations to Police and Child Protection. I had been instructed by Shelley Nuefeldt to update my Lawyer and secure a Restraining Order against them. However when I got to Court, a Settlement Offer awaited me. If I signed this Settlement, relinquishing my Child Support and agreeing to Unsupervised Reasonable Access upon Reasonable Notice I could have my Mobilty and keep Sole Custody. In order to secure our IMMEDIATE Physical Safety I signed at my Lawyers advice. He said to go to Toronto, File from the Residence of the Child and put Restrictions back on him. I took his Advice, signed and fled. We never went home again. We went through the Shelters. So the Police Records never made it too the Courtroom.

Upon getting to Toronto, I concentrated on my children’s Mental, Emotional, Spritiual and Physical Safety. I secured an Apartment, managed to get our belongings shipped to us. Found them a school and counselling services. Arranged for Speech Assesments, that we’re never completed for my son. I contacted Shelley Nuefeldt, of Ontario Provincial Police, only to be told the moment I left town they dropped their investigation. She flat out refused to view Corresponding Health Records she was supposed to have secured. I wrote more letters of complaint and have been told that there is an Ongoing Organized Crime Internal Units Investigation, however Helena Wall of the Ontario Provincial Police refuses to give me written verification that they are in fact investigating, only phone calls and she does not respond to my emails.

Also since my arrival in Toronto, my children began experiencing Human Rights Violations via Systemic Racism in the First Nations School of Toronto. Six months passed and my son was not even given a Speech Assessment. I was given multiple excuses as to why not. Unclear signature, no Health Card number. Refusal to use the email address they were provided with and refusal to call his father who’s number I had provided the School with on Mulitple Occasions. I had been assured that they could obtain that information from his OSR as we had lost his Card on our Journey. My son barely speaks. I brought him to a Psychiatrist as well and it was Documented that he does not struggle from Mental Disabilities, but rather his ability to communicate and developmental delays are a Direct Result of Trauma from Human Rights Violations committed against him by way of Lack of appropriate Services, and Inconsistent Services. It has been recommended that he receive a Full Pyscho Education Assesment. As well recommended I get a Private Speech Assement to provide them with in order to prevent any future delays in Services to him.

My daughter’s experience. The teacher, told a group at school one day that nobody would care if they were raped or murdered. She also told them personal information regarding a Foster Child in her Care who she was supposed to have adopted. The adoption somehow fell through and all her students were aware. Highly inappropriate for children to be that involved in the personal details of their teachers life. Complaints by other parents were made. My daughter was part of an Investigation against the teacher without my knowledge. She began coming home snapping her fingers, and wanting to be beside me at all times. Clingy behaviour that raised Red Flags for me. I went into the school and spoke with one of their many Principles. He assured me my daughter would not be questioned again without my Prior Formal Consent. She was though. Multiple times. Due to Student on Student Sexual Misconduct. At this time I was furious. I pulled both children out of school immediately. I reported it to Police and Native Child And Family Services. Again, I hold Documentation to back up these claims. The School agreed to make a Saftey Plan with me for my daughter, yet they did not fill this out properly. Again I picked up my daughter showing high signs of stress. The boy had called her a Suicidal Slut. He should not have had any information that my daughter was ever suicidal. My daughter and I were told by Christina Breen that the boy involved had to show accountability himself in order for them to hold him accountable. I again removed both children. This time the school called Native Child and Family Services on me, as well as the Truency Office. After speaking with me both have declined Involvement. My children have not attended school since April of 2018. Nobody has Grounds to serve me and nobody will. They know full well the type of Documentation I hold and the thoroughness of it as I was Transparent throughout. Should any of these Corporations Serve me, they know full well what my Responses will look like, and so we are now at a Legal Standoff. My children being denied their Educations. Anything through Native Child, things Education related get sent back to the Bands through Federal Policy. So my Mother in Law and Michipicoten could easily track and influence the outcomes of any Investigations surrounding Truency and Child Protection. Had I filled out Home Schooling Forms, the School could challenge me as well so could Michipicoten. For this reason I refused, and the burden of proof lies on them, again they know what my responses will look like. So silence. Silence from TDSB, silence from the Band, Silence from Child Protection, silence from AFN, silence from Police, silence from the Attorney General. Just silence. I will be returning to Family Court. Should I not, due to her Suicide attempt, my daughter could be “red flagged” by Child Protection when she herself decides to become a mother. I will do everything in my power to ensure that doesn’t happen. Yet I will be taking a different approach, hopefully breaking trail for other women and family’s trapped by these systems. With the same words I’ve been using all along. Restorative Justice.

Restorative Justice was not originally meant to protect offenders, or provide them with excuses for violent or harmful behaviour. It was meant to Restore the “Cirlces” of the victim and possibly provide the Offender with the help they need to not reoffend. The offender and their family, victim families and communities would come together and survey the damage that had been done. How it affected all involved. And what could be done to repair Relationships, and if that was not possible or a danger, than the offenders were removed and a Circle of Care placed around the Victim or Victims in a Protective fashion. This was an extremely beneficial way of doing things Traditionally. Yet some are misusing this System in today’s Legal Systems. As I have repeatedly requested this Traditional approach to our situation but been denied everywhere I’ve reached out. I will now provide my daughter with it myself. I have reached out to an Elder who is willing to help me achieve this. We will not find the help we need through any Government Service. So I am taking my daughter on a Spirit Quest. A Medicine Walk.

Many of our People Fear the Change to which I aim to address. Some of these issues include sensitive subject matter. However, in order to truly obtain Healing and Restore Balance Amongst our People we can challenge ourselves to begin addressing them. As we walk I will release Oral Accounts via Video of my Journey that led me to where I now find myself. My daughter will be kept out of the Public eye for her safety and privacy. Should she wish to share her story on her own, that choice will be left in her hands for it is not mine to make.

Our end goal…to make an offer of Restorative Justice and Healing to my daughter’s Paternal Family, specifically her Nokomis.

My daughter is a wise child, always requesting of me to fix the troubles she sees in the world around her. A tall order indeed. I know in my heart of hearts that our People need to establish our own Systems and Authenticity DeColonize from the Western Linear Systems which we have become not only Oppressed by, but reliant on. She confided in me that she felt as though by being born she had somehow disrupted everyone’s “Circles”. Her words. She did not. Colonization, Assimilation, Genocide, disrupted these “Circles”. It can now be up to us as ONE NATION to Restore these Circles and begin to take steps toward this Common Goal in a Authentic Way. We all have these circles. I believe we also all have this evidence. What would happen if you, reading this, put all your Records into one room? What would you find? Something very similar to what I did I suspect. Differentiating situations, with the same overlaps, pushing and herding you where these Policies were set up to herd you. I believe this with all my heart and it saddens me deeply. To watch my People struggle through no fault of their own. Their Fate sealed by the Genocide. So under the Steady, Relentless Gaze of my daughter and with her at my side, we are committed to completing this Medicine Walk together in a Quest for Restorative Justice and to request her Nokomis to attend a Healing Lodge in Order to repair their Circle.

We are lovers of the land, and so have chosen to camp our way there. By doing so, Mending and Strengthening our Circle with each other. We will be walking 1013 Kilometres from Toronto Ontario, back to Michipicoten First Nation…ending our Walk for Healing on Whitesands Beach. This is a Rights of Passage for my daughter and Health Care Professionals are aware of what I am doing and are supportive. However her Nokomis reacts will be up to her. My daughter will always know where she stands. She will begin this walk a child and come out a woman. Essentially vaccinating her and instilling in her a strong sense of Self and Balance. As I will not be able to stand over her forever protecting her from the evils in this world, I will instead teach her to use her voice to set healthy boundaries. Even with those she loves. To put her own needs first ahead of the wants of others. We will NOT be approaching her father as he is a Physical Danger to us. My daughter understands that. My aim to teach her that sometimes it’s okay to love people from afar if that is what is required to maintain her personal safety and well being. When I return I will release the records I hold. I will speak out. I will Advocate for others. I will Call for an end to the Six Point Plan. I will Advocate for Clan Systems to be reintroduced into our ways of life. True Restorative Justice. I will be returning to Family Court. Should I not, due to her Suicide attempt, my daughter could be “red flagged” by Child Protection when she herself decides to become a mother. I will do everything in my power to ensure that doesn’t happen. Like minded people…I ask you, get together. In groups and find your Brothers and Sisters by Clan. Access your own Records and see what you find. Research your Family Trees. I believe we can do this. I believe we all can together. I believe we can make a difference. One Nation…. We are not responsible for our wounds, but we are responsible for healing them. For True Healing comes from within. Not from any Government Service. From within. Should we find healing, and let go of our Traumas that hold us back. We could end this Trauma Pipeline. For a Government cannot control a Healthy Nation. Their biggest fear…is the day we truly stand together as one. I believe we can…if…

I make this Statement for no Improper Use.

Keewatinung Kwe

#child protection services #children's aid #cdn poli #cdn news #dilico #wawa #intergenerational trauma #cps #children's aid society #cas #algoma #algoma cas #wawa cas #60's scoop

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