#my damp little rat man <3 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

drakulana · 6 months

Text

the first spark // trafalgar law x reader

content: sfw, fem! reader, female pronouns, sloooow burn w little resolution, long reader backstory, violence

part 2, part 3

word count: 5.5k

notes: this is my first ever fan fic!!! i’m very proud of it, and i worked on it for a few weeks on and off. i hope you enjoy!!

⋆⭒˚‧₊˚°❀⋆₊⊹ ⋆｡𖦹˚. ͟͟͞☆

The Polar Tang had been under the water for about a month now. Never in a million years did (Y/n) think she’d be in the middle of the ocean, let alone underneath the surface in a submarine, 395 meters down. She had joined the Heart Pirates about 6 months ago and was just now getting used to being underwater for such a long amount of time. She had been having continuous headaches she assumed to be due to the pressure of being underwater for such a long time. They would come and go, some days worse than others. Today was one of the worst days. The chores had been done, and all the tasks were complete. Most of the crew decided to lounge around, hanging out with one another. To (Y/n) it seemed as if all corners of the submarine were occupied, and they all had too much noise to focus. Trying to find some peace and quiet, she made her way down to the boiler room, letting the laughter and chatter of her crew fade as she departed. It was not the first time she had done this, in fact this was her little secret. No one liked to come down here unless it was included in the work that they had to do. Pipes lined the walls, and the low hum of engines from a few doors over buzzed through the room. Finally at peace, she took a deep breath and exhaled.

A week ago, (Y/n) had stashed a book and a blanket down here, along with a pillow and a cushion she found in storage. She tucked herself into the corner, and sat down on the box that had placed the cushion on. She pulled out the book she was reading which was just a volume of some medical book Captain Law had in the library. Principles of Neurology. It was not an interesting read in the slightest, but there really was not a wide variety to choose from in the Surgeon of Death’s library.

Her mind started to wander as she flipped page by page trying to follow along the best she could with what she was reading. An entity of “frailty” has been conceived to encompass the sum of breakdown in multiple organ systems… She read the sentence over a few times. She made a mental note to get a book that was relatively interesting on the next island that they stopped on. Letting out a sigh, she continued to try to read but ended up drifting away with her thoughts. She was still relatively new to the crew, she had been with them for 6 months. Long enough to get comfortable with her crewmates, but not so long that they knew everything about her.

(Y/n) joined the Heart Pirates after aiding Law with intel that he needed about someone he was “researching.” During the process of this, she got caught up with the conflicts of whoever Law was looking into, and was taken hostage. While in hostage, the person pressed her for information of who was after them, how she knew all of their info, who was her informant? Despite the pressure, and the fear of looming death, she did not give out any answers. She chose against ratting out the Heart Pirates. At that moment, she was sure she was gonna die either way. If she gave out the information, the Heart Pirates were sure to come after her. If they were to get a hold of her, she’d have to answer to the Surgeon of Death. However, if she didn’t give out the answers, the man who was holding her hostage could kill her. So naturally, she picked the lesser of the two evils. Her mouth was staying shut. Like hell was she going to answer to Trafalgar Law of all people. She sat back and recalled that day.

She was held in a damp, dim, humid room. She wasn’t too sure on how long she had been there, but it was probably half a day. The interrogation started out like all of them did with questions and threats. After the first few hours of not speaking punches began to be thrown, and weapons were soon pulled out. Somebody’s hasty, she thought to herself as the interrogation took turns for the worst faster than she had anticipated. It was clear the man she had sold out was in a hurry. He was scared. How he found out it was her that sold his information, she didn’t know. All she knew was that this guy found out, and now he was mad and had a dagger. He kept questioning, each unanswered question he got a couple cuts in. Midquestion, a commotion outside the door started. Yelling ensued, then things breaking and then a panicked, “Boss, we have visitors.” The man interrogating you paused his mild torture, faltering as he stepped towards the door, like he was weighing his options. Would he stay in this room, or deal with the inevitable of being confronted by the man who seemed out his information, Trafalgar Law. He turned to the girl who was sitting in the chair. Her hands were tied in front of her, and her feet were tied together. “You,” He pointed an accusatory finger, “this is all your fault!” and you know, he was right, it was all her fault. She gave the intel for a very pretty penny, but how was she suppose to know she was going to get kidnapped and interrogated. How did they even know it was her who gave the intel? Questions zoomed through her head as he stormed towards her with the dagger in his hand. He held it to her throat. “I oughta kill you right here, right now. A life for a life.” The cool edge of the shaky blade pressed into her skin, nicking her in the slightest due to his unsteady hands. Then, with a sharp slice, her warm sticky blood poured down her neck. An involuntary gasp ripped from her throat as she felt the blood gather at the neckline of her shirt, soaking it. This is it, she thought, Here’s where I die. But before he could cut any deeper, the door to the room burst open. A warm yellow light illuminated the room from the hall outside. A tall figure stood in the doorway. It stormed over to the man, grabbing him by the back of his collar, turning him around. The warm light from the hallway casted across the face of the figure, it was none other than Trafalgar Law. Law craned down to the man’s height, paying the woman tied to the chair no mind, “I believe you have something I want,” he said in a low gruff voice. The man trembled in his grasp. “Now why don’t we take a little trip to your laboratory,” Trafalgar Law dragged the man out of the room, leaving the woman in there alone. It was a quick few minutes before she realized she was gonna have to free herself, and this was her only chance.

She looked around the room and spotted the dagger that the man had dropped near the doorway. Seeing her chance of escape, she scooted the chair towards the entrance. She grabbed the knife with her feet. Reaching down with her tied hands, she cut the ropes that bound her. Whoever tied her up did a really shitty job. Finally free, she prepared herself to escape. Dagger in hand, the silver of the blade glinting as she gazed upon the object. She couldn’t help but notice the blood on the edge from the man attempting to slit her throat. She tried to pay no mind to the wet sticky pain that was starting to raidiate down her neck and into her collarbones. Pushing the pain aside, she made her way through the place, careful to avoid anyone who might be lurking. Once she made it out, she let out a sigh of relief. Barefoot and bleeding, she decided she should probably take the alleyways home. She would hate to scare oncoming bypassers, or god forbid someone contact the authorities. Slipping into the alley, she started to make her way home before a voice cut through the night, “And where do you think you’re going?” Her head whipped around, gripping the dagger that she held in her hand. That voice was the one of Trafalgar Law. She met the man’s golden eyes. She quickly took in his appearance. When she first gave him the intel she had noticed his height, but she also wasn’t fearing for her life at the time. The weight of impending doom really added a foot or two to his appearance. “I didn’t tell them anything,” she breathed. “I didn’t say a word, I swear.” The words tumbled out of her mouth, and her voice didn’t sound like hers as it bounced off the alleyway walls. He took a step closer to her, “I know, but I still can’t let you go. You’re hurt, let me look at it,” he stepped closer. Her mouth felt as if it were filled with cotton. She took a step back, “I’m fine,” she gritted while taking one more step back, trying to put enough distance between them just so she’d have a chance of running away. She was just interrogated and borderline tortured, if she had known what the intentions were behind the wanted intel, she would’ve denied the offer. Besides, it wasn’t like the intel was collected for malice in the first place. (Y/n) had a goal, and that goal was to collect the most information she could, and write it all down into a book. This extended from histories of islands, pirates, doctors, scientists, government officials. Few people knew about her knowledges of the world and it’s inhabitants. Every now and then she would get someone wanting some information, and if the price was right she’d give it to them. She never thought it would lead to this, cornered in an alleyway by the Surgeon of Death himself. “I’m a doctor,” Law’s voice echoed off the walls as he slowly stepped forward towards her, like he was trying to approach a scared stray, careful not to spook it. His hands were held out in front of him, as if he meant no harm, however the word ‘DEATH’ tattooed across both his hands stated otherwise.

“I know good and well who and what you are.” Unintentional venom laced her words. She knew all about the reputation that seemed to proceed him. She had done her research whenever she came across his wanted poster a year ago. She never thought she would cross paths with him, he was just another name in her book for the longest time.

“Then you know it’s in your best interest if you just come with me.” With that last sentence from him, she falsely dropped her guard, muttering a small okay. She didn’t think this tactic was going to work, but as soon as she saw him relax his stance, she bolted. Running through the alleyway with no shoes seemed to be a difficult task, impeding her usual speed. Trying her best to avoid glass and nails, she darted in between the buildings, and in and out of the alleyways. She had the advantage, she knew this city. The poorly maintained asphalt stung, but she had no other choice but to ignore it if she wanted to get away.

She finally was able to duck behind a building after what felt like an eternity of turning down random streets and alleys. She leaned against the bricks to catch her breath, gripping the dagger in her hand. Her heartbeat was in her ears, she could feel the blood rushing through every vein. She stilled and tried to stay quiet, the only sound leaving her was a shaky exhale. The adrenaline slightly wore off as the silence of the night settled. The events of the night really started to set into her body. Her arms and legs aches, her lungs burned, her throat was on fire. Despite the pain setting in, she thought she had gotten away by some miracle, but a second later the same low voice she was running from bounced around her again. “You really think you could get away from me that easily?” His voice echoed, giving it a more sinister sound than what he had intended. She met his eyes. She didn’t know if it was the adrenaline making her analyze her situation in full detail, or if she was just delusional, but she found herself taking in every detail of his presence. The eyes that held her eye contact were golden. He had a lean figure, and was undoubtedly in shape. The moonlight poured over his figure, casting an intimidating shadow as he now stood in front of her. She noted the yellow button up that was halfway buttoned, showing a glimpse of the tattoo on his chest. He had on jeans that had spots on them, and a white hat that shared those same spots. Draped over his shoulders was a long navy coat. If she wasn’t running from him, she could’ve admitted that he was quite an attractive man, but in her head he was trying to catch her so he could kill her.

Her grip on the handle of the dagger tightened before hurling it in Law’s direction. The blade rotated in the air before hitting Law in the shoulder. The way the dagger was thrown would’ve been deemed as impressive by him if he wasn’t on the receiving end of the throw. He quickly pulled the dagger out of his shoulder, and threw it to the ground before chasing after her, once again. This time she was only able to make it a few blocks before he finally tackled her to the ground against the rough concrete. She felt the skin of her knees and elbows scrape against the asphalt, surely breaking the skin. Heart racing, and body trembling, the woman underneath him had no choice but to accept her fate. “You’ll be coming with me,” he growled at her, bitterness lacing his tone. He pulled her up and off the ground then led her to the dock on the bay. His grip was more than enough of a reminder that there was nowhere she could go.

The walk to the submarine was silent, and the man next to her was not giving off a very welcoming energy considering he was taking her against her will. Blood slightly bled through his shirt where the dagger had hit him. He walked her down the dock, and onto a yellow submarine that had ‘DEATH’ written on the side of it. Well how lovely is that? She thought to herself. His firm grip on her upper arm never faltered as he guided her down the hallways of the submarine. Several of his crew members moved aside to make way for the two of them to walk down the hall. It was like a walk of shame. Once they reached the end of the hall, he opened a door. The sterile smell of rubbing alcohol and latex filled her nose, as the bright white lights poured out of the room. It was an examination room. “Sit,” he pointed to the examination table. Having no other choice, that’s exactly what she did, she sat.

Without another word, he started inspecting her injuries. He lifted her chin to get a better look at her neck. “This will need stitches,” he said flatly. He examined the other scrapes and cuts on her body. The adrenaline wore off long ago, and pain radiated from her toes to her head. He cleaned the area and prepped his needle. The stitching process was painful. She sharply inhaled when he stuck the needle through. “Be still,” he commanded, “It’ll only hurt worse if you move.” She had to force herself not to flinch at the needle stitching up her wound. Finally having her still, and in front of him, Law couldn’t deny that (Y/n) was very attractive. The way her hair framed her face, the way she held herself with such self assurance. Fear still resided in her pretty eyes, as she stayed as still as possible while he stitched. He ended up doing seven stitches, the cut was sure to leave a scar to adorn her pretty neck. He cleaned the other wounds and bandaged them up. It was silent in that exam room, and then finally he broke the silence. “Why did you run away?” He asked her. She looked at him like asked the stupidest question, and in some way he did. Who wouldn’t run away from the Surgeon of Death? His reputation alone was enough to make a grown man fall to his knees, and she had literally just seen a grown man fall to his knees at the hand of him. After weighing her response, she broke the silence, “Dying wasn’t on my agenda once I got out of there,” her voice quiet, but not weak.

“Why would I kill you?” He asked her. Again, another incredulous look was thrown at him. Was he not aware of the grumbling that went along with his name?

“For knowing too much?” She answered, in a duh tone.

“You don’t know anymore than you did whenever I approached you for intel. I had some of my men go through your files, you have some very impressive intel on multiple pirates including the warlords and emperors. Where do you get all that?”

“Verified sources,” she simply answered, not letting onto her process of gathering information. There was another silence before she broke it this time. “Listen, if you’re going to kill me, just go ahead and make it quick. Medical torture really doesn’t sound appealing.”

He chuckled lightly at this, but it was not one of humor, “I’m not gonna kill you, but I’m definitely not letting you go either. I know what you’re working on, and I want your intel. Join my crew.” It wasn’t a question, it was a demand, and by the way he was talking to her that was very obvious.

“What’s in it for me?” She inquired like she had a choice.

“You can do some more of your research, and we could use your intel,” He stated like it was obvious. “Everybody wins.” Unfortunately, he was right. Going island to island would be great for her research, and it would give her an opportunity to get first count perspective about the things she was writing about. For a pirate, the information that she held would be very helpful, they would never go into a situation blind. However, being a pirate was not appealing. If she joined the Heart Pirates, she’d surely be wanted, especially with the information that she had collected over the years. She had been able to keep the things that she knew on the low, only occasionally being visited by certain people who wanted intel, but the intel always came at a price. It was a very hush-hush thing. Putting aside the fact that she knew more than most about what was going on in the world, she was just an ordinary woman with no devil fruit, no haki, how was she supposed to be a wanted woman? After mulling over his words, she finally spoke up, “I don’t think you know what I do. I’m gathering information to add to a book. I am not a pirate. I don’t have any fighting techniques, I would die as soon as we hit the battlefield. I will slow you down, no information is worth dying for, or putting your crew in danger for,” she argued, trying to convince herself if she made herself look like a burden, she would be let go.

“Your knowledge outweighs your weaknesses,” he stated. He wasn’t budging on this matter. “Join my crew, and you’ll get to gain more knowledge about the world. Think about the intel you could get if you were traveling the seas?” Once again, he did make a very good point.

“What if I say no?” She asked, wondering if he’d confirm her suspicions. A pregnant silence fell over the room again. She knew she wasn’t getting out of this one, and this just might be the death of her.

“You don’t want to say no.” He left it at that, and finished cleaning her wounds and patching her up.

That was six months ago. Six months of being on this submarine. Six months ago and she still didn’t feel as if she belonged, still felt as if she served no purpose. Sure after the first month, her crew mates started to adore her with her little jokes and random fun facts, but what was she really doing out on the open ocean? She sat there pondering until a voice ripped her out of her head. “You enjoying the Principles of Neurology?” It was her dear captain. She didn’t know he had been standing there, watching her unmovingly stare at the same page. She looked up at him, and then back down at the page she had been staring at for what felt like forever. “Sure, I’m having a blast learning about…The Neurology of Aging,” she read out the chapter name.

“What are you doing down here?” her captain asked her, curiosity lacing his tone.

“This is my secret hiding place, don’t tell the others,” she mused at him. Their relationship was very professional, and in fact for the first month and a half she was on the Polar Tang, she hardly said a word to him outside of him asking for information about various people and places. It’s not like she had a choice or not to be on the damned submarine. It still didn’t feel quite right to be there, but in the past few months she had started to let her guard down. She always addressed her captain with a professional tone, but every now and then she’d throw in a bit of a playful tone, and most times he would entertain her antics. “What are you doing down here?” she asked. She looked at her captain, taking in his appearance. She couldn’t lie, he was a very attractive man. Whenever she would have thoughts like this she would kick herself. She would remind herself who he was. He was her captain, and that’s all that was.

He looked down at her, discreetly looking her up and down, “I was looking for you. I would like to discuss some information about an island we will be arriving to in the next few days. There is an epidemic there and I will need all the information you have on the island, and the citizens so that we can take the proper precautions upon arrival.” His voice echoed off the metal walls.

“Oh okay, let me go up and grab my notes,” She said as she got up from her box, folding the blanket and placing the Neurology book on top.

“Meet me in my office,” he ordered, as he turned to go up the ladder. She made her way into her bunk and pulled out a notebook and a binder filled with stuff about all the islands she knew about. They were organized by North Blue, South Blue, East Blue, West Blue, Grandline, and New World. She gathered all her things and made her way towards Captain Law’s office.

She entered the Captain’s Quarters with a binder that was bursting at the seams, holding all her notes. As she walked in she took in her surroundings. It wasn’t the first time she had been in the Captain’s Quarters, but everytime she had been in there it was only for a brief period, usually dropping off files and papers from her research. Papers were stacked high on his desk, and there were files and books scattered across the room. It was messy, but it was not dirty. The room smelled like paper, ink, and Law.

She made her way over to his desk and started to flip through her binder. The binder was as full as it could be, and while the different places were organized, the contents of the binder within her neatly divided sections were scrawls of writing and small sketches here and there. “So, where we going?” She asked, beaming. She loved talking about all the things she had researched. She loved gathering information and putting it all together. Her goal was to write a full encyclopedia on the world and maybe one day she could write about the One Piece, if it was ever found. Without looking up, Law answered, “Bronze Island.” She was aware of the location, and she was also very aware of the disease that spread through the island, almost 60% of cases were fatal.

She flipped to the section where the island’s information was found, hesitantly inhaling before stating, “Uhh… I don’t think you want to go there.” Law looked up at her for the first time since she had entered his office, feigning annoyance behind his eyes. “I do think I want to go there,” He countered. She didn’t argue with him, he was the captain after all, but this island was being raided by pestilence.

“This disease has a high mortality rate, and it’s more contagious than the common cold. It’s an airborne disease. It spread mostly through bodily fluids,” she spouted off. “The island has poor air quality which just adds to the mix, making the citizens’ immune systems weaker. The island’s government is riddled with corrupt officials. There have been many uprisings staged, but none of them have aided in the ridding of the corrupt officials,” She set the paper in front of her captain. “If you have any questions, let me know. I’ll leave the rest of these pages to you,” she took a stack of papers out of the binder and laid them on his desk. There must have been at least 20 of them. The pages consisted of information about the epidemic, information on the citizens, as well the island officials. Law looked through the papers, before setting them back down. She used that as her cue to leave, and went towards the door, “Just let me know when you’re done with them.”

“Where are you going?” He asked her as if it were normal for her to stay. He never asked her to stay after giving him her research. He usually just looked at them and returned them. They shared eye contact for a split second before he answered her unasked question of why. “I’m going to need your help on this one.” Without replying, she turned back towards him and sat in a chair that was in front of his desk. The chair was hardly broken in, and it was obvious her captain didn’t really enjoy visitors all that much in his study, unless necessary. A dull sense of pride bubbled up inside of her, hearing that he needed her help. For a second she was able to push aside the feeling of not belonging on this ship. Her captain picked up the pages that she had given him and handed them back to her. “Let’s start with the island officials.” (Y/n) flipped through the papers getting to the officials section of her research, and started spouting off the names and the roles they played within the island’s government. She didn’t know what her captain was planning, nor did she think she wanted to know what he was planning. She was still new to this pirate thing, new to the notion that sometimes some people will get hurt in the crossfire. Hell, she was almost one of those people.

Brushing off her thoughts she skimmed across the paper, coming across some grammatical errors. “Captain Law?” A comfortable softness laced her tone as he caught her eyes. He had never heard her voice sound so sweet, so warm. His heart almost melted. “Could I borrow a pencil?” She asked him, holding his gaze with hers. He mumbled a quick of course before holding the object towards her. She reached out to take it, the tips of her fingers brushing his. When they touched, a jolt of electricity shocked them both. His golden eyes met hers once again, but lingered for a second too long this time. Long enough for her eyes to travel down to his lips, and then back up to his eyes. It felt as if time stood still. It felt like it was the first time she had really taken a good look at her captain since that night 3 months ago. She pulled her attention away, muttering a quick thank you as she took the pencil, hoping the lighting in his office didn’t capture the slight pink dusting her cheeks. She internally kicked herself for letting her eyes travel, for letting herself put him on a pedestal in her mind, even if it was only for a split second. It was wrong in so many ways, she couldn’t let herself think about him in that way. She couldn’t let her guard down. Mutually ignoring their little moment, they both resumed to what they were doing.

After about 2 hours of going through the information about the island and it’s government, as well as its citizens, they wrapped up their work. “Would you like me to leave you these papers?” She asked him. Without looking up from all of the notes that he had taken, he let a single, “Yes,” fall from his lips. She nodded, and put the papers on his desk. “If you have any questions, you know where to find me,” As she was about to make her exit, she heard her name being called. She turned her head to look at her captain, unintentionally savoring the way her name rolled off his tongue. “Thank you for the help,” he said smoothly, hesitating before continuing, “And if you ever need a place to hide, don’t hesitate to come in here to read or to finish your research.” She smiled and nodded her head as the feeling of belonging settled in her core for the second time that night. “Thank you, if you ever need anymore help I’m more than happy to do so,” she replied trying to sound as professional as possible in order to combat the warm feeling that was starting to bubble in her stomach. She turned on her heel and made her way back to her bunk.

That night, against her will, her thoughts were consumed by her captain and the moment they had shared. She felt guilty feeling this way, it wasn’t right to feel borderline giddy as she recalled such minor events. Sure, maybe their fingers touched, and maybe he made her feel like she belonged for once, but it was a moral dilemma just waiting to happen. Internally, she berated herself for even thinking about her captain in that way. Despite her self berating, she let her thoughts drift to her captain as she stared at the metal ceiling. There was a comfortable air around him, one she didn’t like to acknowledge that often. He felt safe, but she knew he could be dangerous. He seemed sane, but she knew he wasn’t. She was aware the longer she stayed with the Heart Pirates the more she let her guard down, and that included Law. She surely was trusted if he was offering to share his quiet space. She thought about how he offered it to her, with softer words than his usual tone. No matter how hard she tried to shake the doctor from her thoughts she couldn’t. That night, she went to sleep with Trafalgar Law taking up the space where her dreams usually lay.

Down the hall, in the captain quarters, Law mulled over what he had said to her before she left the room. It wasn’t like him to just offer someone a place in his study like that. Law worked alone. It was his space. That was the one place he was guaranteed to get some peace and quiet. What was even more strange was that he didn’t even regret offering his space to her. In fact, he was hoping that she would take him up on it and spend her time there instead of in the boiler room. He pushed his thoughts away, rationalizing his offer as just an excuse to gather more of the information she held. If she were to come to the office for peace and quiet, it was inevitable for her to work there too. He told himself that was the real reason he had offered it, rather not acknowledging the warmth he felt when he was around her. He pushed his thoughts away and buried himself in his work for the night, every now and then thinking about his crew member. The feeling that was tugging in his chest would have to be for another day.

⋆⭒˚‧₊˚°❀⋆₊⊹ ⋆｡𖦹˚. ͟͟͞☆

@drakulana 2023 // i do not give permission to copy, translate, or repost without my consent

#trafalgar d water law #one piece #law x reader #one piece fan fiction #one piece law #trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader #law fanfic #trafalgar #one piece fan fic #fem! reader #fem pronouns #slow burn

397 notes · View notes

redeemers-and-dragons · 1 month

Text

Redeemers: Greenest in Flames! Part 3

Narration: *The tunnels below Greenrest is dark, damp, and filled with the echoes of skittering rats. The walls are cracked, covered in moss, and cobwebs hang from the ceiling. Jaune leads Cinder and Neo with the help of a torch, shining light on the ground to reveal any rats for either Cinder to lob a firebolt or Neo to shoot with her hand crossbow.*

Cinder: …You know, after running through a town under siege from masked men and a dragon, this would have been the last thing I thought I’d have had to do today.

Jaune: *Awkwardly chuckles* It’s certainly a change of pace, isn’t it? But hey, if it’s a job that needs doing, we gotta do it.

Cinder: *Rolls her eyes* There’s hardly any rodents around this tunnel to even warrant a “rat problem". I’m sure the fleeing refugees that are going to be running through this tunnel are not going to be too picky about a few rats.

Neo: *Is silently counting each rat she sees. With each kill, she casts an illusionary sound of a bell.* Ding... Ding…

Jaune: Well think about it this way, the real goal here is to secure the tunnel, investigate the secret entrance, and make sure it's safe for us and the villagers. Killing the rats is more of a side objective to make sure that they don’t bite someone and spread a plague in the keep.

Cinder: Fine, I’ll admit there’s importance to this task. But only if you admit that it’s bullshit that we are the ones doing it and not the guards.

Neo: *Casts Minor Illusion to conjure a voice.* “You’re just upset that I’m getting more kills than you.”

Cinder: By all means, the title of “Rat Queen” is all yours.

Neo: *Sticks her tongue out as she nails another rat.* Ding.

Cinder: Anyway, now that we have a lull in excitement, how about we take this time to become better acquainted? Seeing as the possibility of us all dying together has risen significantly.

Jaune: Grim way of pitching it, but sure. What would you like to know?

Cinder: Well , what made you want to become a paladin? No offense, but you seem a little… “too sweet,” for this kind of work.

Jaune: Oh, I guess you can say that’s because my dad is a paladin. And so was my grandpa. And my great grandpa. And my great-great grandpa…

Neo: *Conjures Minor Illusion* “Does every man in your family have to be a paladin or something?”

Jaune: N-No, not really. It’s not like it’s a mandatory thing. It just sort of made sense. I wanted to help people, and paladins help people. *Laughs bashfully* I know, I know it's a boring answer. But I can't put it any other way other than... I like to do it. It's my calling.

Cinder: Gods, you really are “sickly sweet.”

Neo: *Gags mockingly*

Jaune: *Blushes* W-Well what about you? What made you want to worship… Satan?

Cinder: *Huffs* I don’t worship Satan, Boy. I am a servant of the demonette, Lilistor. She’s an up and comer, and has gained quite the following since I came along. As for how I came to be in her employ… let’s just say I wasn’t in the position to be too choosy with how I survived. Lilistor was there when I had nothing else… *A brief moment of silence.* Enough about me, what about you Neo? What made you into the career criminal you are today?

Neo: *Shrugs before casting minor illusion* Because stealing is fun. *Fires off another bolt that sticks a rat in the rear, causing it to squeak and immediately limp into a hole in a nearby barricaded passage. Neo looks annoyed and crawls over to the hole to reach in to try and grab the rat. All of sudden she hisses in pain and yanks her arm back out, shaking her bitten hand.*

Jaune: Neo! You ok? *Goes over and checks her finger*

Neo: *Pouts with a single tear in her eye, glares at Jaune and then points demandingly at the barricaded passage.*

Jaune: Sure, I think I get it. Hold this a second. *Jaune hands her the torch and puts both hands on either side of the passage before rearing a single swift kick into the rotten wood to make a much bigger hole.*

Narration: In the dim light of the torch, a single rat lies still, with an arrow piercing its rear end. The black shadows behind it dance and twitch with the glow of hundreds - maybe even thousands - of bright red eyes, each pair of them a pinprick of glowing malice within the darkness.

Jaune: …Uh oh.

Neo: *Unable to scream, did the very next best thing, dropping her torch and jumping into Jaune’s arms like a cat running up a tree.*

Rat Swarm: *Start surging out in a wave of vermin bodies, immediately engulfing the torch and making towards Jaune’s armored boots.* Squeaksqueaksqueaksqueak!

Jaune: *Back pedaling frantically towards Cinder* C-C-C-CINDERRRR!

Cinder: *Stares in shock for only a moment before snarling and pushing past Jaune and Neo and holding out her arm* Burning Hands!

Narration: The dark tunnel suddenly fills with flames. The sound of roaring fire and death squeal of hundreds of rats were deafening. The smell of smoke and burnt hair was overwhelming. The heat of the hellish power was scorching. After a few seconds, the fire from Cinder’s hand stopped coming forth, leaving the only light in the tunnel to be the pile of small burning carcasses.

Cinder: *Slightly out of breath* Alright, so maybe there really was a “rat problem.” You two alright?

Jaune/Neo:

Jaune: Y-Yeah. Good job. Guess all that leaves is to check the entrance. *Goes to put Neo down before suddenly being choked.*

Neo: *Holding onto Jaune’s neck like a vice, conjuring another auditory illusion.* “If you think I’m stepping on this ground after that, you have another thing coming. Carry me.

Narration: Jaune, Neo, and Cinder make their way to the end of the tunnel and find the locked grate. It’s worn and rusted, but it should be able to open with a good twist of a key or a hard knock. They can peer outside through the grating to see some overgrown foliage and the night sky.

Cinder: Hear anything?

Neo: *Shakes her head.*

Jaune: Looks like the raiders haven’t found this entrance yet. That’s good.

Cinder: *Seems pleased.* That’s very good. Now all we have to do is head back-

Bell Toll: RING. RING. RING. RING.

Cinder: What is that?

Jaune: …That’s a church bell. Something is wrong. We have to hurry back to the keep!

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

The Party: *The party meets back together at the highest parapet of the keep with Governor Nighthill, who is currently looking off towards the sound of the ringing bell in town.*

Adam: What is it? Reinforcements?

Neon: Ours or theirs?

Nighthill: No. That’s the bell of the Temple of Chauntea. It must be villagers calling for help!

May: *Pulls out a periscope* I see a group of invaders surrounding it. It looks like they have a battering ram.

Jaune: We have to help them. Governor, we just secured the tunnel. What’s the fastest route to the Temple?

Nighthill: The river winds right behind the church. Follow the water and into the surrounding treeline, you should be unnoticed. Quickly, form a rescue team and get there as soon as you can!

#redeemers au #jaune arc #neon katt #adam taurus #cinder fall #may zedong #neo politan #reese chloris

50 notes · View notes

n-s4kayaky · 7 months

Text

Satisfying journey Pt.3

Part.1

Part.2

(Notes: Hi! I'm new to writing stories on this app. While I am familiar with writing the occasional one-shot or comic strip, it's been a while. I'm writing this story for my own enjoyment and excitement. I just wanted to let you know that if there are any grammatical errors, I apologize. I'm also more than happy to hear your suggestions and feedback. For now, this is all I can share. I hope you enjoy this story)

Pairing: Buggy The Clown x F!Reader

Summary: After your encounter with Buggy on the previous day, you fall asleep in your cell with nothing else to do. You wake up to different noises on the deck and spend the rest of the day without any problems until Buggy returns, showing you what he had prepared for you and what now seemed to be your new life

Warnings: Depictions of Violence and Torture,mentions of nudity, Buggy being a complete jerk and a perv, sexual tension and teasing, romance, humiliation.

The sun began to peek over the horizon, and a small ray of light shone through the tiny window in the damp room where you were sleeping, beginning to warmly illuminate it. You continued sleeping, undisturbed by the light that was coming in; but a loud noise made you wake up abruptly, it seemed like something above you had exploded. You placed your hand on your chest, feeling your heart racing at a thousand miles per hour due to the sudden scare. The wooden floor of the ship continued to tremble slightly, as did the metal bars of your cage.

You gasped and let out a sigh as you looked around, still on that disgusting ship, still chained in the cage while rats scurried around you, although, at that moment, that was the last thing you were worried about. Again a loud noise was heard above you, making your heart skip a beat, holy God, these pirates were going to scare you to death. After the noise, the crew's laughter followed, and you noticed how the wood of the ship beneath you began to sway from side to side. You raised your eyebrow in confusion and looked towards the window, having to stand on tiptoe to be able to see even a little. The water hit the glass of the small window, so you supposed they must have embarked from that town. Had they taken the citizens as they had done with you, or had they let them go? You hoped it was the second option, you were certainly worried about those people. You looked out the window again, and your eyes widened, you could see the city completely destroyed in the distance, a large cloud of smoke flying towards the sky, and the buildings falling by the second.

You heard the door rattle and quickly looked at it with some panic, was it him? Buggy was coming for you, what was being useful to him about, as he mentioned yesterday? You swallowed saliva and your nerves dispersed as you saw the same man who brought you food the day before. He walked silently towards you with a tray in his hands like the previous night. He knelt before the cage, opening the small compartment where he passed you the food and drink. As quickly as he entered through the door, he left without saying a word. You looked at the door curiously at the enigmatic man, but didn't pay much attention to him, instead, you took your food. The plate clearly showed what were boiled chicken leftovers, white, without any seasoning, and next to it were several pieces of boiled potato, to be exact four, just like the chicken, it had no salt or pepper. What were you supposed to be now? A miserable dog that was given leftovers? You sighed, you couldn't complain much about your situation, but clearly, it wouldn't have cost them anything to put some salt or something. The glass was of water, simple but hydrating, which was what you needed. Hesitantly, you searched for the cutlery, making a face when you didn't find even a small fork, you put a face and took the chicken between your fingers, which felt quite cold to your touch.

You ate the chicken and potatoes in silence, occasionally taking sips of water to hydrate your throat. In a few minutes, you finished your meal, taking your fingers to your mouth and licking them to remove the food residue. The big door opened noisily, and you looked at it, feeling your body shudder. At the door stood none other than that pirate clown, his eyes scanning your body and stopping at the fingers in your mouth with a certain hungry gleam. He leaned against the door frame without taking his eyes off you. 'Caught you busy, my dear?' he asked playfully as he walked dangerously towards you until he was once again in front of the door of your cage. You quickly took your fingers out of your mouth, feeling embarrassed as you cleared your throat. Buggy simply laughed as he crouched in front of you. 'Did you enjoy your meal, doll? I left a few leftovers especially for you. A thank you wouldn't hurt,' he said with a cunning smile. You simply remained silent in front of him until you finally managed to open your mouth. 'You could have put some salt on it...' 'Oh, come on, complaining again? I could have given you nothing, and here I was thinking you were a good girl.' He put on a falsely sad tone in his voice before clicking his tongue in disapproval. 'Well, dear, you're lucky I'm in a good mood today, so I'll let it slide... But don't underestimate me.' He commented, quickly changing his tone to one full of anger.

"Well, as I told you yesterday, doll, today you will start your first day being useful to us." From under his sleeve, he pulled out a small key, which seemed to be the one that opened the door to your cage. You quickly approached it and Buggy smiled amused at your desperation to get out, he put the key aside while his free hand rummaged inside his jacket. "Ah ah ah, not so fast, doll, first of all..." He took out of his coat what seemed to be a heavy metal collar, without even blinking that object was firmly around your neck, making you gasp. "Isn't it beautiful? I knew it would look perfect around your pretty and delicate neck... This will serve as a reminder, do you understand, dear?" The tips of your fingers touched the cold metal of the collar while Buggy opened the door to your cage. Before you could react and run as fast as you could, the pirate had hooked a chain to your new accessory, which he held tightly with his gloved hand. He pulled it firmly and forced you to clumsily leave the cage, bumping into his chest. Buggy laughed amused at your clumsiness and took your chin, making you stand up and your faces were only a few centimeters away. His warm breath brushed against your mouth and you could smell it, it smelled like whiskey combined with strangely gunpowder, your cheeks acquired a soft reddish color and Buggy's blue eyes roamed your lips, going up your nose until they ended up looking at your eyes. "Well, darling, I'll tell you what this little job I have for you is about, from now on you will be MY personal servant." He slowly moved away from your face looking at you. "And believe me, you should feel honored, serving me, the Great Buggy!" He commented with an aura of superiority.Answer: The given text is a paragraph in Spanish. It describes a scene where a pirate named Buggy puts a metal collar around the neck of someone he calls "doll" and makes them his personal servant. The person is desperate to escape but Buggy chains them to the collar and forces them to leave the cage. Buggy is portrayed as arrogant and superior.

You rolled your eyes at his big ego. 'Sure, I'm so grateful,' you said sarcastically, causing Buggy to quickly grab your cheeks like the first time you met, letting out a groan of pain in the process because your cheeks were still sensitive. 'I told you not to underestimate me, brat.' 'I-I'm sorry! I'm grateful, sir,' you said as he released your cheeks, patting your head gently as he separated from you. 'You're welcome, dear. Now, let's go. We have things to do.' He pulled the chain that was attached to the collar around your neck, making you walk with him again. You left the dark room, blinded by the sudden sunlight outside, letting your eyes adjust as you followed Buggy like a dog. He walked with superiority in front of his men, who quickly moved out of your way.

Opened a large door and from it came out some steam which made you grimace at the heat against your face. You looked at the room which was a bathroom, which had several showers on the wall. The captain entered the bathroom which at that moment was empty for your consideration, pulled your chain and when you entered the bathroom he closed the door behind you, positioned himself in front of it and looked at you with a cunning gleam "Well, I don't want you to work for me while you're full of dirt, so undress and shower" he said with a smile decorating his made-up face. You swallowed, feeling your cheeks turn red as you scratched your arm, was he going to be with you while you showered? Holy God, that perverted clown. "Do you... Do you have to be here while I shower?" "Of course, I have to be present to make sure you don't escape." You sighed a little uncomfortable, you didn't want that clown to observe your naked body. Buggy, seeing that you hesitated with your movements, let out a annoyed groan "Come on, sweetie, you don't have to be shy now, I'm not going to do anything" he commented with a wolfish smile on his face and a lustful gleam in his eyes "Unless you ask me to..." He winked playfully and you felt your body heat up for a few seconds, you looked away with some embarrassment. You had no other choice, you knew that man was too stubborn to insist that you leave and leave you alone, so the best thing you could do was ignore his presence completely. You turned your back to him, so you would avoid his presence, although it didn't help much that his two eyes were creating a hole in your back as if he could see through it. The first thing you chose to take off was your dirty shirt, followed by your bra, which when you took it off you let out a small sigh of relief. Then you took off your shoes while leaning against the shower wall to avoid falling, once they were off you lowered your pants, already a little torn and dirty.

You were left semi-naked, with only your panties to cover you. Your eyes couldn't help but be curious and they turned in the direction where Buggy was to confirm if he was still watching you. You were not mistaken, the clown was still observing your body, moving his eyes over your figure, attentively observing your curves, any mole, scar or stretch mark that you had on your body. It seemed like he was studying you, recording your skin in his memory, and you would almost say that he was looking at you with a certain adoration. Buggy came out of his visual study of your body and his gaze settled on your face, he looked at you hungrily and winked one of his eyes. You quickly fixed your gaze on the wall while, somewhat trembling, you took off your underwear, becoming completely naked in front of the blue-haired man. Without hesitation, you turned on the hot water faucet and felt it kiss your skin. It was so relaxing, it had been several days since you had taken a good shower and this one was undoubtedly appreciated. You let your hair get completely wet as well as the skin of your body, you took your head out from under the hot water jets and blinked several times to avoid your vision from being blurred by the intrusion of water in your eyes. You looked down at your feet, finding several bottles that you assumed were shampoo and gel. You took one of these and poured the liquid into your palm, it had a pleasant mint smell, you spread it over your palms and began to massage your hair, creating foam in it. You rinsed off the shampoo with the water that was falling in front of you and then took the gel, spreading it over your body and soaping yourself until you were completely clean. You turned off the water once you finished, squeezing your hair and removing the excess water that was falling from it. You could feel a presence behind you and turned to see what it was, Buggy was behind you, extending a large clean towel against your back, he put it around your body, feeling the ghostly touch of his hand against your breasts when he tied the towel around that part. "There we have it, clean and pleasant, huh sweets?" You turned around to face him as you nodded, observing the towel that the man had wrapped around your body with a certain affection and curiosity. Who would say now that this is the same man who previously slapped you and choked you to the point of fainting.

Slowly he moved away from you, turning his back as he watched you take something from a bench. He turned around, facing you again and extending a small pile of clothes to you. "Here you go, darling. I hope you like your new outfit. I picked it out especially for you," he said in a sing-song voice as he let you take the pile of clothes. Knowing him and how he acted, you expected the worst with your new outfit. "If you need help getting dressed, I'm more than willing to do it," he said mischievously as he watched your cheeks turn a soft shade of red, making him laugh. "Thanks, but no thanks. I can dress myself," you replied. "Your loss, dear," he said before you turned around to face him again, just as you had done while showering. You unfolded the clothes and, well, they weren't all that bad. It was a shirt similar to his, with red and white stripes, but you could tell that the neckline of the shirt was more revealing, making you sigh. The second part of the outfit was a cute long brown skirt, the standout detail of which was that it wasn't entirely long. The back part of the skirt reached your ankles, while the front part of the fabric reached a little lower than your thighs. You couldn't deny that it was cute. Along with the skirt was a small scarf of the same blue color as Buggy's hair, and you could easily tell that the color palette had been inspired by him. You went to put on the clothes until a small piece of fabric fell to the ground. Puzzled, you picked it up and your face quickly turned red. A pair of small orange panties, just like Buggy's captain hat, with the skull from the pirate ship's sails in the center. Buggy's arms wrapped around your bare hips and his chin rested on your shoulder, watching with a satisfied smile as he looked at the pair of underwear. "Do you like them? I asked the tailor to make them especially for you," he said with his face dangerously close to your neck, making you shiver as you felt his big red nose brushing against the little bit of neck skin available due to the metal collar. You cleared your throat loudly, moving away from the clown as you nodded. "Sure... thanks..." "Good girl," he whispered in your ear as he moved a few centimeters away from you.

Trying to completely ignore what had happened, you started to dress quickly. You felt a bit embarrassed putting on your underwear, followed by your old bra. You put on your shirt and made a small grimace as you felt your chest now more exposed. You pulled up your skirt over your legs until it rested on your hips, and finally put the scarf around your waist, tying it with a small knot. You turned around, facing Buggy with your new outfit. He looked at your body carefully and smiled widely, giving a small clap with excitement. "Oh! Darling, you look radiant, almost as much as me!" he commented with his big ego, making you sigh. He took the chain of your necklace and walked towards the door, opening it while looking at you with a smile. "Come on, dear, now it's time to work. My glasses won't fill themselves!"

#buggy the clown #buggy one piece #one piece #buggy x y/n #buggy x reader #buggy x female reader #buggy the clown x reader #one piece live action #one piece buggy #one piece x reader #op buggy #buggy the pirate #opla buggy #x reader #op x reader #op #opla

66 notes · View notes

leftnotright · 4 months

Text

A TEXTBOOK EDUCATION

"This will be a skill-building experience. You've had it too easy. You've had your Family name to back you, and your Right Hand at your every call. It's time you learn to carry yourself, to build from the ground up." Dino Cavallone, the Cavallone Don, fresh out of high school.

Reborn, the deadliest hitman of the modern era, has a special kind of torture up his sleeve for his dear struggling student. Dino will have to see how well he handles alienation, isolation, and worst of all, class participation. “Now, go on, my useless student Dino. Let’s continue your education.” (Or: Reborn sends Dino to Australia. It goes better than he could have ever hoped.)

Parings: N/A Characters: Dino (Katekyou Hitman Reborn!), Vic Hunt (OC - Original Character), Reborn (Katekyou Hitman Reborn!), Romario (Katekyou Hitman Reborn!), Cavallone Famiglia, Enzo (Katekyou Hitman Reborn!), Original Characters Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, University, Pre-Canon, Financial Issues, Fluff And Angst

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

CHAPTER 6: I'VE ALREADY HID THE BODY

Dino patted his face dry gingerly, looking every bit the drowned rat he felt like.

Hot water had all but reignited the powder the man had thrown at him, and as soon as Dino had stepped into what he had hoped to be a relaxing, warm shower, he had immediately regretted it. So, Dino had subjected himself to a speedrun of a freezing shower to get as much of the powder, old water and soil off of him.

The soil had been the hardest. It had been in every one of his sweaty nooks and crannies.

Dino had only dug a grave himself once before. He hoped he remembered all the steps.

Dino continued to pat his red, blotchy face as he slumped into some clothes and, finally, looked at the state of his dorm.

Powdery handprints, footsteps and drag marks covered the place. There was water on his papers and soaking both his textbooks and carpet, and so many things had been knocked over and pulled down in the fight. It was going to take forever to clean.

Dino sighed and looked at the clock, already 11PM. At least he didn’t have class tomorrow.

He moved to the coffee table and gently pulled at his papers. Thankfully, none of the Mafia-related ones were damp, but Dino was going to have to reprint that spreadsheet handed out at his last tutorial. He packed away the sensitive documents in their hidden cubbyhole.

Enzo plodded out from Dino’s bedroom, finally deciding to leave his sunlamp and sand bath.

“Some help you were,” Dino pouted.

Enzo peered up at him with beady eyes, then made a b-line for the water spill.

“Hey! Hey! No!” Dino shouted and scooped up the turtle who continued to wiggle his legs in his insatiable water-lust.

Then Dino froze and listened.

The crunch of boots against pavement and leaves. The rustle of fabric against skin. The jangle of metal. Laboured breaths and a sigh through clenched teeth. The knock of knuckles against a door.

Dino blinked. Knocking?

Carefully, Dino peered through the slits of his blinds and spotted the figure at his door. Their head snapped around.

“Dino! Show me the baby damn it!”

Dino sputtered. What was Vic doing here at 11PM!?

“Let me see the little babyman!” Vic whined again.

Dino didn’t know if it was his anxiety-induced people pleasing, or the fact that Dino all but had a death grip on the knowledge that Vic was his friend who liked Dino and his company, but before he could think, Dino’s mouth had happily said: “Of course!”

Then Dino choked and shouted, “No!”

But Vic had already marched through his door.

Dino looked at Vic, then at the state of his dorm, then back at the frightening still girl.

Slowly, Dino extended Enzo towards Vic and said in a small voice, “Do you want to hold the baby?”

Vic turned her head to look at Dino, and Dino saw the moment her temper snapped.

“What the fuck happened!?”

Dino’s face must have been worse than he thought, because the moment Vic laid eyes on him, she lost her head. Vic crossed the room in long, heavy strides and grabbed him by the head so she could see the chapped, red skin. His eyes were bloodshot and swollen, his nose was crusty and peeling, and Dino was still damp.

Vic looked upon Dino and the state of his dorm, and it all pieced together. Vic could hear that familiar rumble in her ears, and the pressure in her throat — but as she moved Dino’s head to see if there was any more damage to him, she saw a tear track down his cheek and Vic did everything she could to stomp down that anger.

The pressure eased, but that rumble remained, a constant background noise that made it hard for her to hear, to think. Vic gritted her teeth and bore it.

Her baby boy Dino had just been robbed, and possibly attacked! He had been alone and crying, for who knew how long — and of course this had to happen on a night when there were two house parties going on, so no one was aware of the world, or too piss drunk to care.

“Are you okay?” She asked, and let go of Dino’s head, circling around Dino and nudging at his body.

Dino flinched with a sharp hiss when Vic prodded his shoulder and he quickly spun around, “I’m fine! Promise! No lies!”

“Yes lies,” Vic snapped and poked him in the shoulder again, “How the fuck did you get hurt? Did they jump you? Where are they, I’m gonna beat their ass—”

“No, no, no,” Dino rambled and grabbed Vic by her arm to redirect her deeper into the dorm, kicking his door shut behind them. “Far away, they are far away now. They will not come back, I am sure.”

They paused as something crunched under Vic’s foot, and they both looked down to see shattered glass underneath her boots. Vic looked at Dino over her shoulder with eyes sharp enough to cut, and Dino continued to push her over to the dining table.

He thinned his lips when he saw the state of the back porch door, the way the hitman had entered.

“Your fucking deck door is smashed—”

“It can be replaced—”

“Dino!” Vic shouted, sounding appalled and she spun around to grab Dino back. “Why are you so calm about this!?”

“It is over,” Dino said slowly, and let her grip him by the forearms, her nails digging in and grip so tight she was shaking. “It is over.”

Vic was not calm at the moment, but Dino could see she was trying. Trying so hard to keep it together, but she was slipping constantly. Everything she saw was something to set off the tripwire in her brain — Dino knew that feeling well.

Then Vic stared at him, her nails still biting his skin, and she uttered, “You’re used to this.”

Dino winced but nodded and gave what he hoped was a comforting smile, “Yeah. Yeah, I’m used to this. It is not the first time.”

Vic swallowed hard and squeezed Dino’s arms again. She wasn’t satisfied. But her anger had gone quiet, a rolling boil just under her skin that she could keep a careful lid on.

“Okay, fine,” she said, taking slow, deep breaths through her teeth. Her voice was low, like she was trying not to wake what was left. “Fine. We’ll— for a few hours— we’ll act like this is fine.”

“For a few hours,” Dino agreed but didn’t pull away.

Vic puffed out a sigh, “But are you okay? Like, actually. Other than your shoulder, I mean.”

“Yes, I am well,” he assured, and she gave him a short look. “I promise.”

“...Okay. Okay, that’s good,” she relented, and then looked at the state of Dino’s dormhouse. “Fuck, they made a mess.”

“Yeah, it will take a while to clean up.”

Vic let go of Dino’s arms and rubbed her face, before she clapped her hands loudly.

“Let’s get cracking, then,” she said, and set into the mess.

Dino blinked at Vic, then put Enzo down and rushed to join her. He brought over a dustpan from under the sink and swept up the spilt pot soil as Vic picked up the shattered plastic terracotta bits with her gloves.

Dino looked over at Vic and took in what she was wearing: beige, steel-capped boots, jeans and a red polo shirt. She had a bulky carabiner clipped to her belt, cluttered with an arrangement of keys, glove clips and some kind of yellow tool with small blades.

“Where were you?” Dino asked, looking her over and Vic paused dropping those shards in the dustpan.

“Work,” she answered, “I do the closing shift on Friday.”

Dino blinked slowly, “Oh. That is all work items?”

Vic looked down at her carabiner and bounced in her squat to make it give a little jangle, “Yeah. Locker key, mover key, bat knife, mini measuring tape. Other ring is car and the dorm key though.”

“You came from work then?” Dino asked as he pulled over his kitchen bin to dump everything.

Vic stared at the limp, blackened succulent on the floor and tossed it in the trash as well. She rose from the floor with a groan and punched at her lower back as she moved over to the next mess.

“Yeah. Wanted to see Enzo. And you too, I guess, you’re here.”

“Thanks,” Dino said flatly, and heard Vic snicker as she inspected the handprints on the walls and floor. “But it is so late, why did you come now?”

Vic glanced at Dino before she shifted on the spot, and carefully touched the powder with her gloved finger, trying to see if it would wipe off easily.

“Had a bit of a shit shift, is all,” she said.

Vic moved to the dustpan and beat off any remaining soil, before she moved to the walls.

“I, uh, I will do that,” Dino insisted and dashed over to take the brush from her hands. He had felt what that powder was like, and he didn’t want Vic getting any of that in her eyes or lungs. “I do not know what the powder is.”

Vic’s frown returned with a vengeance and the grinding of teeth. She turned on her heel and opened the front door and every available window, channelling her temper into fighting with the stubborn bathroom windows.

Dino smiled at Vic as she started scooping up the back porch door’s glass while muttering under her breath. He pulled his shirt over his nose and mouth before he started brushing that capcaissum-like dust off the walls.

By the time they were done, it was well past midnight, and Dino had a lot of laundry to do come the morning after stripping his bed and couch of their covers. Vic had managed to use trash bags and a mini stapler to wrap Dino’s porch - deck - door and keep out the bugs.

Dino came inside from putting out the bins and locked the flyscreen door to the front, still airing out that powder. He stopped when he saw Vic standing in his, thankfully untouched, kitchen.

“They stole your food too!?”

She opened one cabinet after another, nary a scrap or packet in sight. All that was there were plates and haphazardly stacked pots. Dino blinked slowly, the clock blurry in the corner of his vision.

“I suppose?” He said, “I did not have much food. Cooking is not strong.”

Vic looked at him, “How much is not much.”

Dino thinned his lips. Vic continued to stare at him.

“...I did not have any stored there.”

“Dino,” she said shortly, then she pinched her brow and looked around, “Then where do you store your stuff?”

Dino moved to the fridge and opened it. Kebabs and various pastas from the student Ubar took up the top shelf, a jug of water and a half-drunk Pepsi in the door. There was nothing else.

Vic looked at him.

“I am one man,” he reasoned in response to that flat stare.

Vic thought about it for a moment, before nodding in her head in defeat, “Okay, fair.”

Then Vic went about looking at those cabinets again, all hauntingly empty. She seemed to count them, then count the five shelves in the fridge, with only one in use. Ample storage, far too much for ‘one man’ with little to no guests. Dino watched as she sized up the space, wondering what was going on.

“Have you had dinner yet?” Vic asked, looking over her shoulder.

“No,” Dino admitted slowly, “I have not had time.”

He had been too nervous to eat before the meeting, save that cookie Vic had given him, and too busy afterwards. His usual shop in the Ubar for a hot meal would be long closed by now — besides, Dino rarely had an appetite after handling a corpse.

Dino suddenly wondered if his lightheadedness was from that powder, or over 12 hours without a proper meal. He needed to eat soon.

“Proposal!” Vic announced and Dino snapped to attention just as a cup of cool water was shoved into his hands. “You lemme store my foodstuffs in your capacious cupboards, and I’ll help you learn to cook! Life skills, My Little Pony, life skills!”

“But, you have a kitchen in your dormhouse? Do you not use it?”

Vic’s smile twitched and became the baring of teeth.

“I would, but roommates,” she said, voice strained. “They kept using my stuff without asking, and they didn’t even replace it!” Vic took a large breath and crossed her arms, “I just keep everything in eskies now.”

Dino blinked. He remembered those three coolers stacked up on top of each other in the corner of Vic’s bedroom. Vic was hoarding her food in her room to protect it.

Dino sipped at his water and glanced at his storage. More than one man, one university student, could fill. Again, Dino’s anxious need to please reared its head. The idea of Vic, his friend, having to all but resource guard in her own dormhouse only fanned those flames. Dino fought it as best he could.

“Yeah!”

Which wasn’t much. At all. But he tried!

Then Dino remembered what was shoved into his underwear drawer, and what was coiled up in his back pocket. What was stored away in a cubby hole, what was cooling deep in the dirt outside. Mafia shit.

“But, uh, please be careful of my items,” he pressed, imagining the chaos of Vic finding any of his files.

“Of course,” Vic nodded, not an inch of humour or sarcasm in her tone. “Your dorm, your stuff. I won’t touch anything unless I have the go from you.”

Dino relaxed a bit.

“Anyway, gimme a sec and I’ll grab us some dinner. Be right back!” And Vic was out the door with the vicious jangle of her keys.

Dino resisted the urge to rub his face lest he irritate his still-red skin, and instead went about fitting the sheets back onto his bed so he had somewhere to sleep all of this off.

Dino sat on the floor of his living room, not willing to use the bare couch, especially with that suspicious stain that they had exposed. He gave a glance to the washing baskets full of laundry for tomorrow and tried not to think about how his lazy day was no longer looking any sort of lazy.

Enzo took that moment to appear, rounding the side of the couch and chomped Dino’s socked toes.

“Ouch!” Dino hissed and yanked his foot away. “Damn it Enzo!”

“Is that the baby I hear!?” Dino heard from outside and looked over to see Vic hauling two eskies down Dino’s path, dressed down into her usual garb.

Dino stood and let her in, the girl hoisting the eskies up over the step and into his living room.

“I’ve got butter chicken leftovers that need to be eaten soon and naan bread for a quick and dirty dinner,” she offered, taking off her shoe next to the door where Dino’s were.

“Okay,” Dino agreed and went about getting out the few plates he had, running them under the tap just in case.

“Is there anywhere in particular you’d want me to stay out of?” Vic asked, crouched in front of Dino’s fridge.

Dino shrugged as he briefly tried to read the instructions of microwaved rice. He didn’t really use more than the top shelf by himself. Divvying up a fridge had never been a pressing matter.

Dino shrugged and put the rice in the microwave, punching in the numbers he saw on the packaging.

Vic hummed unsurely up at Dino, before she slipped a bottle of almond milk into the second bottom shelf. Dino stared at the bottle and remembered suddenly: Vic is lactose intolerant.

“Top two can be yours, and we can discuss the door shelves when you’re not ready to pass out.”

“How are you so alive?” Dino asked, still fighting the need to rub his eyes.

Or, well, as ‘alive’ as someone as lethargic as Vic could be. It hadn’t been quick, like coming down a steep slope, but Vic had returned to her lazy state as she stocked up Dino’s fridge.

“Night shift, baby,” Vic sang flat, and put her esky aside as she closed the fridge. “And I didn’t get broken into.”

Dino huffed and Vic gave a short laugh that had to all but crawl from her throat. Then she stopped, sniffed and snapped her head around, “How long did you put that in for?”

Dino looked over his shoulder and smelt melting plastic. Dino yelped and scrambled for the cancel button, the microwave door popped open and steam and white smoke came pouring out. Vic hacked and couched, and Dino slammed the door shut again.

Dino glanced at Vic. Vic looked at Dino.

Vic put the container of butter chicken into the fridge, middle shelf.

“Let’s just eat cereal tonight.”

A bowl of almost-chocolate milk sat in Dino’s lap as he and Vic watched videos of silly cats on her laptop, the girl herself munching through her share of Milo cereal. Enzo peaked up and over Vic’s thigh, happily cradled in the nest of her crossed legs.

“How’s your shoulder?” Vic asked out of the blue, and Dino glanced at her.

She looked drowsy, all but slumped against the baseboard of his couch. Her bowl tipped dangerously. Each breath she took was long and paced.

“It’s okay,” Dino said, moving his murky cereal soup around. “They did not hurt me. I did not even see them.”

Vic breathed out, long and slow. A cat fell into a bathtub. Another got scared by a piano. Vic ate a heaped spoonful.

“Do you want me to stay over tonight?”

Dino blinked, “Pardon?”

Vic watched a cat run headlong into a glass door.

“You had someone break in. People usually don’t wanna be alone after that, ya know?” she huffed, “I don’t particularly want to leave you alone, either. They might get cocky and come back.”

Dino looked at the dots of black dirt under his nails, the last remnants he couldn’t scrub out. He doubted they would be coming back.

Dino glanced at Vic. A civilian would be shaken by a break-in. Right. Already, this breach had put Vic on edge. Hypervigilance. She would be watching Dino, and everything around him. Dino had to act civilian.

“I would like that, yes,” Dino nodded gently, and Vic nodded back.

Then she tipped back the last of her almond milk and got to her feet, Enzo wheezing at the abandonment.

“I’ll go grab my nighties and shit then. Be right back.”

Dino watched Vic go, before he reached for his phone and texted Romario.

Dino Cav Vic is staying the night in my dormhouse.

Romario did not respond for at least ten minutes. Then Dino’s phone started to shake on the countertop as ‘Romario’ became ‘Romario (15)’ and ‘Zio Croix (7)’.

Dino paused rinsing the bowls and looked at his phone, wondering about the frenzy — and how Zio Croix was caught up in it. He put the bowls on the drying rack Vic had found deep in his cupboards, but before he could reach to address those texts, Vic was once again knocking on his screen door.

Dino let her in and was immediately faced with felt teeth.

Vic’s head peered from around the large, nearly life-sized, toy shark. She grinned with teeth, nearly the spitting image.

“Meet Nip,” she introduced, shaking that shark at Dino. “My cuddle shark.”

“...Hello Nip,” Dino uttered and made way as the girl shuffled into the dorm. “Why?”

“I need to hug something to fall asleep,” she said as she put down a tote bag against the side of Dino’s couch. “Hence: cuddle shark, Nip.” Vic looked around and said, “So uh, where do you want me to sleep?”

Dino paused and looked at the couch, stripped bare and with newly exposed, suspicious stains. He looked at the laundry basket, the only spare sheets in the dorm, and in danger of holding that powder residue.

“Did not think about it,” Dino said slowly.

He had towels, but he couldn’t ask Vic, his guest, to sleep on towels. All of the Cavallone would have his head!

“I will sleep in this room,” Dino offered, thinking of laying towels on the couch. “And you may have my bed.”

Vic tilted her head, “But you’re the one who needs the better sleep. I can sleep on the couch.”

“Please, my Family would kill me,” Dino nearly pleaded.

Vic let out a short bark of a laugh and hiked up her shark onto her shoulder. She looked down the hall into Dino’s bedroom and hummed before she turned to Dino and said, “Mate, you’ve got a queen size. We can share if you’re comfy?”

Dino stared at Vic, “You would like to share?”

Vic shrugged, “Up to you, I’m good for it though.”

Dino looked at his bed, then at the couch, then at Vic and her life-sized shark. Immediately, Dino was rushed with a nervous excitement. He felt his face split into a shaky smile and rocked on his heels, full of elated jitters.

“I am okay!” He agreed, “We can share, yes!”

Dino had taken a while to get used to the bed at the dormhouse. It wasn’t especially soft or hard, but it was different. He sorely missed his own pillow; this one made his neck hurt for the first few weeks.

So Dino understood as he watched Vic pull the slip off his spare pillow and replaced it with her own. She folded the slip up and laid it on the chair in the corner. Then she stood in front of Enzo’s suitcase, full of topsoil and sticks.

“They stole his fucking enclosure,” she whispered staring down at it and the way Enzo slowly rubbed himself into his sandpit.

Dino decided it was an investment in his personal safety to let her believe that.

She squatted down and gently petted Enzo’s shell with the soft utterance of ‘red-eared slider, my ass’ before she clambered up into the bed, Nip in arms. Dino fisted his sheets in his hands, sat on ‘his side’ of the bed, a clear divide down the middle.

Vic sat on her side, lamp the only light in the room.

Dino smiled at Vic, “I have never had a sleepover before.”

Dino could barely contain himself. Sure, it was under less-than-ideal circumstances, but Dino was having his first sleepover with his friend! He couldn’t wait to tell Romario.

Vic blinked, “Me neither.”

All the movies Dino had seen showed people at sleepover playing games and consuming an array of foods — none of which he had on hand. Especially with his microwave out of commission until it stopped smelling of something toxic. He remembered his classmates back in Italy discussing sleepovers, well ‘rendezvous’ or ‘meetings’, as they called it at the time. Dino didn’t think Vic would much like it if their sleepover activity was an impromptu helicopter ride like the Tomaso Family did.

Dino tugged at his blankets a bit, “What do we want to do?”

Vic flopped back into the bed and bodily wrapped herself around her shark, pulling the duvet all the way up to her chin.

“Sleep,” she decided, and God that sounded utterly sublime.

Dino didn’t hesitate to curl up like a little comfort crustacean. His head hit the pillow and all those dopamine jitters were sapped straight from his bones for melatonin mugginess.

“Good idea,” Dino grumbled and Vic turned out the lights.

☁ ☁ ☁

“Hey Romario?” Dino asked as he held the phone to his ear, watching on as Vic stubbornly piled the straps of several hefty shopping bags onto her hands and waddled into his dorm. “Would you be able to send me some, uh, cooking stuff?”

“Cooking stuff,” Romario echoed slowly.

“Yeah,” he said, as Vic organised their food in the cupboards and fridge, following some sort of system Dino had no clue about. “Stuff that I’d need for cooking. Cooking stuff.”

“Very well, Boss. I’ll ask the chef to organise a basic package.”

“Perfect! Thanks a lot, Romario,” Dino said, before wheezing as Vic shoved a bag of flatbread in his chest.

“Come on, ponyboy, we’re making wraps for lunch,” Vic announced, waving the bag of roasted chicken. “No way we can mess this up.”

Later, Dino choked on a bone. Vic now knew the correct spelling for ‘heimlich’.

☁ ☁ ☁

Sunday morning, Vic sat on the couch, still smelling fresh from the laundry, and bodily wrapped around Nip as she watched Dino haul a box into the living room. He wheezed and heaved, dragging the box as it clanged and banged with whatever was inside.

“Doing good there buddy?” Vic asked, but made no move to help.

“Good,” Dino said, before his socked feet slipped out from under him and he fell on his ass. “Still good!”

Vic snorted and leant over the edge of the couch to rummage through her bag. She pulled out a box knife from her balled-up work apron and tossed it at Dino who was haplessly picking at the taped-up box.

Dino fumbled with the knife for a bit, before he managed to open the box. Vic peered over his shoulder.

“The hell is this?” She asked as Dino pulled out one smaller box after another, carefully packaged and wrapped in scrunched-up newspaper. She snagged a page and squinted; Italian. “This from home?”

“Yeah! I asked Romario to send some tools!”

“Ah, Romario,” Vic uttered. Her rival for custody of Dino.

Dino grinned at Vic, happy she knew so many of his Family by name. He really should have thought it dangerous, negligent even, that he was letting a civilian know so many of the pieces that made the Cavallone’s top level — but really, Dino reasoned, when would it come up again? Vic was going to be a teacher in Australia, after all.

Dino huffed as Vic batted at him with Nip to get him to hurry up and show her what he had been sent.

A pasta machine, made of black cast iron and polished wood, came out first. It was heavy and Dino wheezed as he tried to raise it up to show Vic. On the bottom, Dino could read VillaWare Manufacturing Co. 1908. The head chef had always found it a bit annoying that the first pasta maker had been built in Cleveland, USA of all places.

Dino gave it a testing crank. It was old, but it turned without so much a creak.

The next item Dino pulled wasn't exactly heavy but had a heft to it that made his fingers hurt as he clutched the edge. A circular slab of stone, flat as a tack and thick with little handles on either side; a pizza stone. Accompanied by a pizza paddle that Vic used as a rather dangerous choice of fan.

The last large piece was a large pan, at least a finger in depth. Dino had seen the chefs use this kind of pan to make sauces before.

Aside from that, the box was full of miscellaneous bits and bobs, some coming in multiples in a way that made Dino think they were important — did he really need that many wooden spoons? Why were they different shapes?

At the bottom, sat a few small folded paper packages. Dino reached in and read that familiar handwriting on the backs: basil, rosemary, thyme, oregano. Seeds, sent from home.

“You got a letter,” Vic hummed from over Dino’s shoulder and he jumped to attention and saw an envelope wedged beneath the folds of the box. “What’s it say?”

Dino leant back into the couch as he read Romario’s clean and precise handwriting, always a stickler for clarity and precision, down to the penmanship.

“Instructions to look after the pasta machine,” he said, before getting to the bottom of the letter. “They are going to send more later. A, uh, ‘care package’?”

“More!?” Vic asked, looking at what was already spread across the coffee table, stacked on top of each other and nearly toppling off the edge.

“Yeah, my Family tends to over-give sometimes,” Dino chuckled, still trying to figure out why there was a random, gritty block packaged with the knives. “A lot of us live in one household under the head, so we use quite a bit.”

Vic blinked, “You all live in one big house?”

“Yes! After induction, you are to live in the house until deemed ready!”

Dino's smile froze. Vic stared at him with a particular look on her face that somehow told Dino that something he had said was not a social norm.

“What?” Vic uttered, and squinted even as her eyebrows shot up.

Dino wheezed and started waving his hands frantically, “I, uh, mean — the new members of the Family come to live in the house! It is safe there and tradition and uh— Please do not focus on it—!”

Vic lurched to sit up on the couch, Nip the shark all but flung across the living room as she gaped at Dino’s spluttering self.

He fucked up!

“Wait, are you in a cult?”

Oh, he fucked up!

“Dino? Are you? In a cult?” she pressed, both fascinated and concerned. “Like, you can tell me, I won’t judge. My uncle believes that a secret race of people called the ‘True Earthlings’ run the world.”

“No, I’m not in a cul— your uncle believes what?” Dino squinted. “How? Why does he think that?”

“Beats me,” Vic shrugged as she crossed her legs, feet pressed flat against one another. “But he talks about it at pretty much every family gathering. We usually change the topic.” Then she rocked forward on the couch and loomed over Dino. “But you. Cult?”

“No,” Dino stressed, “We are not a cult. We are a Family.”

“Sounds like a cult, not gonna lie,” Vic muttered, scratching at the piercing hole in her ear.

“Not a cult!”

“Okay, okay,” Vic laughed and backed off. “But fuck mate, that must be a big house you’ve got.”

Dino smiled, remembering those long halls and polished floors, perfecting the sliding on socks and being dragged on blankets. “Yes, enough room for everyone.”

Vic huffed and groaned as she got to her feet.

“Okay, let’s get that machine cranking! Pasta time!” She paused and looked down at Dino. “You know how to make pasta noodles right? You’re Italian.”

“Did you remember to park your koala?” Dino shot back. “And I’m Sicilian.”

Vic stuck her tongue out at Dino and flipped him off, “The stereotype is ‘kangaroo’, you Sicilian piece of shit. Now get up, we’re gonna Youtube it.”

Vic was glad they had started preparing their dinner early, as the next half an hour resulted in a rather frantic back and forth of more egg yolk, more flour, more egg, more flour, more egg, more flour, more—

“I don’t think we can eat all of this,” Dino murmured as the two looked down at the ball of rested dough the size of a small toddler.

“Speak for yourself, coward,” Vic huffed and grabbed handfuls.

True to her words, Vic ate her whole serving of five large bowls. Dino had to rub her belly as she laid on the couch in pasta-ey regret.

At least, now Dino had plenty of pasta in the fridge. He would be eating it for a while.

☁ ☁ ☁

Dino laid on his couch, a sheet of paper draped across his face. Enzo gently gnawed on his shin through his pyjama pants.

He was bored. And lonely.

Semester break had set in. Dino had meant to go home over the mid-year break, spend the semester's end on Sicilian soil. Instead, when Winter crawled into the southern hemisphere and Dino had reached for the plane tickets home—

“I’m sorry Boss, Reborn’s instructions were clear. You can’t come back this time, not yet.”

Dino had damn near broken into tears.

Instead, after much bed-rotting, Dino had thrown himself into the familiar stress of number crunching, creating pages of cramped value tables and highlighted budget summaries. On the floor sat a bin full of tear-soggy tissues.

Vic had gone upstate to New Castle for the mid-year break, but Dino hadn’t had the time to miss her company as she made sure to text her ‘poor, lonesome boy’ at least once a day. Dino’s phone was full of photos of ‘blobfish babies’ and some kind of mixed mutt that looked like it could win a bullfight called Pepper. Or, as Vic liked to call her: ‘Pepe my sweet little girl, so beautiful!’

Dino did have to admit, her baby cousin, Ant, did look a bit like a blobfish. A cute one. A cute blobfish.

He still wished she was here, though. Dino had never liked the quiet, it never brought good things. For Dino, a quiet house was a house in mourning.

Dino tried to play some old Italian music to help the homesickness. He found he couldn’t stand it without the sound of Romario snoring in his armchair, or Brutus heckling at the football.

Dino crossed his arms over his eyes, the sheet wrinkled under the weight.

“I wanna go home, Enzo,” he murmured, muffled.

Enzo made another bite at his shin.

“I wanna see Vic.”

☁ ☁ ☁

It had been months since Dino had struck a deal with the rest of the Cavallone: Bet everything on one last race. Bet everything on the Cavallone horses.

And yet, he had made minimal progress.

The search for jockeys had been difficult, he hadn’t even known where to start. But as he paged through the list of names and backgrounds Romario had sent, Dino could see his options wearing thin.

There were jockeys, young upstarts and disgraced retirees. But Dino needed a specific brand of person.

He didn’t have the money to pay them lavishly, nor buy their silence, so he needed someone low budget, low maintenance. Young, maybe. Inexperienced and unaware of their worth. Skilled enough to handle a horse of Cavallone’s breeding. Loyalty easily fostered. They couldn’t ask questions. And they couldn’t be Mafia.

One jockey per horse.

The Stable Master had given him seven horses to work with, Madam Celeste, Buttercup Pop, Today Junior, Red Riding, Bottle Top, the best of the Cavallone’s renowned Snortle line and, of course, Glory herself.

One jockey per horse. Dino needed to find at least seven jockeys. And then he had to pray that the horses accepted their riders.

Dino grimaced at the concept of trying to introduce a jockey to Glory. He made a note to have a medic on scene.

Dino sighed and dropped his head onto the dining table, articles and handwritten notes of half thoughts stacked high enough to cushion his dismay. Dino was tired.

Enzo bit his little toe through his sock. Dino screeched. He shot up with a gasp — he saw Vic pressed against the window.

“Show me the boy.”

Dino screeched. He fell off his chair into the sweet embrace of his cold, tile floor.

“Careful! You could have hurt Enzo!” Vic scolded as she banged on the window.

Dino gaped at her from the floor, offended.

“What!? No sympathy for Dino!?”

“Shut up and let me in! I’m freezing my tits off!”

Dino resisted rolling his eyes as he heaved himself up off the ground. It was only 17 degrees, barely coat weather, but Vic was whining like she was up on Etna. Dino opened his door and Vic came barreling past, honed on his couch.

Dino laughed when he saw the mass of blankets on the couch, each one brought by Vic every time she couldn’t resist the knick-knackery of Kmart. Two grumpy eyes peered out, and the tell-tale sound of Enzo’s disgruntled wheeze.

“You’re back?” Dino smiled as he came and sat by Vic’s head, those eyes glaring up at him.

“Nah, I’m astral projecting — yes I’m back!” Vic huffed and Dino grinned.

He leant over and threw his arms around the mass that was Vic bundled within her blankets, squeezing tight even when the girl gave a wheeze. One of Vic’s hands wriggled its way out of the hold and gently patted Dino’s shoulder with an obligatory “there, there.”

“You were away for so long,” Dino grumbled.

Vic huffed, “I was gone for three weeks.”

“Three weeks much too long!” He whined and Vic let out a laugh that jostled both of them.

Dino let out an indignant sound as he slumped into Vic and felt the twang in his back and the ache in his eyes. He had been looking at documents for so long, done so much close-up work, that he could barely make out the clock face on the wall.

“You look like shit,” Vic grumbled from within her blanket mount.

Dino smiled weakly and rubbed his nape. He felt like shit too. A bit sweaty. Cooped up.

But he had work to do. So many relied on this one last gamble.

Dino tried not to let the stress show. That stone in his stomach and pressure in his chest.

Vic stared at him.

“Dino?” She asked and sat up, Enzo slid down a blanket and tottered off into the distance. “Dino?”

‘What’s wrong?’ she wanted to ask, but as Vic looked at Dino, she couldn’t quite get the words out. Because she could see that whatever was festering under his skin, was far too large to unpack. It had too many layers. One lone issue didn’t make someone’s face that dark and pale.

“Do you…Do you want to call home? I can give you some space?” Vic offered gently. “Call your dad or something?”

Dino flinched. Hard.

Vic snapped her mouth shut.

Then her mind swarmed with memory, scanning every instance she had with Dino, every mention of his family, every giggle of his past. Not once had Dino mentioned his father. Or his mother.

Fuck. Vic had fucked up.

“Or—” she scrambled, nearly biting her tongue in the rush.

“He is, uh…passed,” Dino said, barely above a whisper.

Vic paused. She pulled the blankets around her tighter.

“Oh,” she uttered.

“Last February,” he continued, his hands plucked at the edge of the blanket, pulling the loose tassels. “He got hurt. He didn’t get better.”

“Oh,” Vic whispered. That was recent. “You’re…mum?”

She looked at him carefully. Dino’s nose had started to blush, his fingers worked to untangle stylised knots in the blanket. His voice croaked.

“I was seven,” Dino whispered, and that was all Vic needed to know.

“Dino,” Vic murmured, and Dino shrugged.

“It’s okay. It was a long time ago.”

“Dino, your dad was last year,” Vic said, not at all convinced. Maybe Dino had come to peace with his mother’s passing, but his fathers? She didn’t think he was ‘okay’ as he said he was.

“I am busy. There’s much to do. The Family needs me now that I am in charge.”

Vic held her breath for a moment until she was sure she could let it out without a sound. Her Dino was in charge? Of a whole family? Her Dino, who choked on rice, who cut his lip on his toothbrush, who tripped on shoelaces. Had been put in charge of a whole family — an extensive one if ‘induction’ meant anything (not a cult, totally not a cult unless it is).

“When did you take over?” Vic asked and closed her eyes, bracing for the worst.

“...Last February,” Dino uttered.

He had taken the reigns out of cold hands. No time to mourn.

Vic felt her heart lurch in her chest, and a rumble in her ears. Anger and indignity yanked at her naval as she looked at the papers on the dining table, laptop open, fan spinning fast to cool down after days of almost non-stop use. Her Dino was doing all this. Practically alone, so far from home. And he hadn’t even had the time to properly mourn.

Vic turned her gaze onto Dino.

“Last February,” she echoed out to him. “Fifteen months.”

Dino smiled at Vic, full of teeth and wrinkled eyes. Eyes that started to swim as she stared at him. Brown eyes going blurry until one, then two, fat tears rolled down his cheeks. Dino sniffed, loud and full of snot.

Vic pulled her feet up onto the couch, leant back against the armrest and opened her arms to Dino. Dino’s face pinched, his breath shook, and slowly, Dino crawled until he laid himself on her chest.

Vic lifted her chin to breathe around his hair and felt her shirt go soggy as Dino hiccuped and rattled.

Vic liked to think she knew Dino well. At times like this, though, Vic was reminded that she knew very little.

Dino’s dad had died last year. His mother, long before that. And now he was here, alone, the rest of his family in another hemisphere. And there was that whole issue of finances that she knew she wouldn’t ever fully understand the gravity of.

Arms wriggled under her back and Vic felt Dino clutch at her like a lifeline, his watch dug into her ribs and she felt snot, spit and tears smear along her collar.

“I miss him,” Dino wheezed. “I don’t want to be the Boss yet. There’s so much I could do wrong.”

Vic gritted her teeth and pulled the blankets over Dino, the weight pressing down on his back. She looked at the list sitting on Dino’s dining table. A criterion for employment. A jockey selection.

Dino needed jockeys. At least seven.

Vic scanned the criteria, doing her damnedest to burn every detail and refinement into her memory. Cheap, talented, foolish. She felt her stomach roll with heat and discomfort.

Someone to be taken advantage of.

Dino coughed between quiet sobs. His nails dug into her shirt, just short of her skin. Vic pushed her cheek into his hair and squeezed him back, just as tight.

Dino needed jockeys.

“It’ll be okay, Dino,” Vic murmured.

Dino needed jockeys. Dino needed help.

She couldn’t do much, had no idea where to even start. But she could at least look. For her ponyboy Dino.

#fanfiction #khr #leftnotright #ao3 #dino cavallone #katekyo hitman reborn #canon divergence

12 notes · View notes

actual-bill-potts · 1 year

Text

hello all, i have been so very tired and busy the last month or so and im so sorry for neglecting so many asks and projects

still experiencing severe writers block as well as just. general work exhaustion but here is a completely silly little fluff piece, for @eilinelsghost whose messages always bring a smile to my face <3 <3 <3

When Balan and Finrod arrived to Nargothrond, the first being to greet them was not an Elf, nor yet a Man, but a small dog. One moment they were crossing the Guarded Plain; the next moment, all Balan was able to perceive was a small golden blur and Finrod's sudden cry of delight.

Then there was a lot of yapping.

When the dust cleared, Finrod was holding what appeared to be a large rat, with an expression of pure bliss.

"Balan!" he said, with what seemed to Balan to be an inordinate amount of delight even for Finrod. "Might I present to you Eleni-Arenel!" Then he gravely turned to the small creature in his arms and said, "Eleni-Arenel, may I present to you Balan, chieftan of the Atani."

The creature yapped. Or perhaps it yipped. Finrod grasped one of its paws and waved it back and forth.

At a loss, Balan waved back.

Then he parsed the name Eleni-Arenel.

"Star-princess?" he said. If there was an unflattering amount of doubt in his tone, Finrod chose to ignore it.

"Yes!" Finrod said, beaming. "Is it not fitting? Her eyes shine like the very stars when she is hungry."

"Er," Balan said.

Then he made what was - in hindsight - a fatal mistake.

He said, "But she looks like a rodent."

Eleni-Arenel's eyes glittered in a very threatening manner.

Finrod only laughed. "Well, I understand! Many of my guards said the same when I first obtained her - but they have since fallen in love. You will see. You must get to know her."

"Where did you even find such a small dog?" Balan asked helplessly.

Finrod laughed. "Find? No! We have been breeding her kind for generations. Look how pointed her ears are, the fine lines of her paws - those did not come about by accident."

Balan looked. He was more interested in Eleni-Arenel's very sharp-looking teeth; but he did look.

"There, you see!" Finrod said. "I am sure you two will love each other. And you must be often in each other's company."

Balan kept his doubts to himself.

Unfortunately, Finrod was proven right about one thing: Balan and Eleni-Arenel (or, as Balan began to call her in the privacy of his own mind, the Rodent) were often in each other's company. Any time Balan sought Finrod out, the Rodent was there. If Balan and Finrod were sitting in comfortable chairs beside the fire, the Rodent was curled up on the floor, distracting Finrod with a particularly pathetic-sounding yip whenever his gaze became heated. If Balan and Finrod happened to brush hands below the feast-table, there was the Rodent's damp nose edging sharply between them. In desperation, Balan had once sought an official audience with Finrod, only to see the Rodent in a small, richly-embroidered couch beside the throne.

Balan was not sure if the Rodent knew what she was doing. An ordinary dog certainly did not possess enough intelligence to purposefully protect the virtue of an Elven-king; but this was a particularly small dog, and Elvish besides.

Probably, he thought gloomily, the Rodent would live longer than he would. He would soon lose all use of his manhood, and be consigned to a lonely bed of earth, while Finrod and the Rodent curled up happily underneath a fine Elvish quilt. Finrod probably loved the Rodent more than he loved Balan. Finrod was probably petting the Rodent right now with those lovely long-fingered hands...

Enough, Balan thought hysterically. He was jealous of a dog. What next? Would he start rending Finrod's correspondence to bits in the manner of Eleni-Arenel, in the hope of gaining his attention?

The thought was a little too tempting.

Balan shook himself. This had gone on too long. He stood purposefully, and went to find the Rodent.

She was, predictably, next to Finrod in his office. Balan entered without ceremony and scooped her gingerly up in his arms.

She sniffed, spitefully.

"Oh!" Finrod exclaimed. "I'm so glad you two are getting along!"

Balan couldn't help himself; he shot Finrod a look of scorn. The Elf could see for leagues. How could he be so oblivious?

In his arms, Eleni-Arenel sent the Elvenking an identical look.

Finrod visibly wilted. "Well!" he said. "I...what are you here for?"

"I am here," Balan said in his stateliest manner, "to talk to your dog."

Finrod blinked. "Well!" he said again. "I...hope it is productive?"

"I am sure it will be," Balan said. He was going insane. No doubt about it.

Well, he was committed now. He swept out of Finrod's office with the Rodent.

Outside in the hall, he set the Rodent down and knelt in front of her. She stared at him, unblinking, and opened her mouth just the slightest bit.

She really did have too many teeth for such a small creature.

Balan took a deep breath. "I think," he began politely, "that we may have gotten off on the wrong foot."

The Rodent yipped.

"Maybe I am crazy," Balan muttered.

The Rodent growled.

"Or...not?" Balan said.

The Rodent yipped.

"In any case," Balan forged on, "I wish to formally apologize for calling you a rat. You are -" he paused, had to force the words out - "an extraordinarily beautiful dog, with lovely ears."

The Rodent blinked, once.

"So," Balan said, feeling as if he had never been sillier, "will you - er - perhaps leave Finrod with me once in awhile? I won't hurt him, if that's what you're worried about," he rushed on.

The Rodent yapped, as if to say, don't be silly.

"Well! If that's all," Balan said awkwardly. Then he added softly, "I do care for him a great deal."

The Rodent licked his face.

Balan smiled. "Shall I bring you back to Finrod now?" he asked.

The Rodent whuffed. She placed one paw on his knee and pushed.

Balan, startled, fell back. The Rodent climbed into his lap.

Balan was about to protest - the hall was cold, and he had things to do - but she really was quite warm and fluffy. It could not hurt to scratch those ears. Just once.

The look on Finrod's face when he emerged into the hallway to see Balan and the Rodent engaged in a heated (if one-sided) debate on the merits of cave-dwelling as opposed to living on the plains was worth it, anyway.

#silm fic #i...guess anyway lol #otp: and he did not return again to estolad #balan #finrod #my writing

26 notes · View notes

creepylittlelady · 6 months

Text

Zalgo’s Memories

(Content Warning!: Mentions of Sexual Assault (very light), Sexual content in general, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, maybe like one comment that can be depicted as racist. I don’t condone anything said in this.)

I remember the days when my mother was still there.

Her name was Eve, or Eden, or something like that.

It always smelt a bit damp and mouldy, it made me sick sometimes. I’d used to scratch at the walls to try and find where the bad smell was coming from, why I felt sick just from smelling it. My fingers would always be black afterwards, and my mother would hit me, saying that I shouldn’t make myself so dirty when I already was dirty.

I never knew what she meant. Was it because she made me out of sin? It must be why. The Priests always told me that children who were born from unmarried parents were sinful.

It was only one room. When mother was doing her work, she’d lock me in the closet whilst I heard those strange noises. It made me feel sick. Sometimes I’d make myself fall asleep whilst picturing that I was in a lovely warm bed and that I had one of those squishy fake bears that I saw at a carnival once before.

I hated the closet. It was damp and dark, I was only 3 years old. Sometimes she’d forget that I was in there. I think she felt remorse in those cold brown eyes of hers, but it was somewhere where I couldn’t see.

I remember the baths too. It was always cold, and I’d be hugging myself and shivering whilst she scrubbed at me furiously. My skin was always red and sore afterwards, it felt like she was trying to wash away something deep inside of me.

She was nice to me sometimes, once she gave me a slice of pie from a bakery and glared at me whilst I ate it. I think she might have loved me. Might have.

She hugged me once. It was after she let me out of the closet. I remember her screaming a lot, it made me feel scratchy inside. I mainly felt sick, because it was my own mother screaming after all. The man had walked out, I remember the heavy buckled boots like a bartenders, and she let me out and held me tight to her. I didn’t like it, but I still huddled to her close when she cried.

I didn’t like when she cried. It’d be loud and she’d wail. She’d say mean things to me.

“You’re my biggest regret.”

“You’re my sinful mistake.”

“You’re all I have. My sinful little boy.”

It felt bad. I didn’t feel nice. But she was my mother, and I felt like I had to listen to her anyways.

She was young, I think. She was real pretty too, she had curly blonde hair that was always done up real neat and her eyes were striking. I think that’s why a lot of men wanted her.

“You’re probably going to turn out just like them. Just another damned pervert. That’s all you men ever turn out to be. They’ll promise marriage and love, but they always run away the second they get what they want.”

“No matter how much you think you won’t end up like them; you will. You’re just like the rest of them; selfish and perverted.”

I suppose she was right.

I remember when I was 4 years old, and she disappeared. It was only for a day, but I sat there on the dirty floor, watching the rats scurry by, wondering if she would come home. It was scary. I was scared. I knew I was a sinful boy and I thought that God had decided to punish me once and for all by taking away my mother.

She came back, weeping into a baby and covered in blood. It smelt bad. Mother named her Lily, I’m not sure why. But I’d poke her face sometimes because it was really soft, and it gave me a weird feeling.

Mother didn’t like Lily. She’d call Lily a mistake, she wouldn’t feed her or take care of her. It wasn’t fair.

I remember when she punched her in the face for not wanting to eat. I remember I had to nurse her soft nose back to health. Mother felt guilty about it, because she collapsed down and started crying. I didn’t want to help her then.

“I’m a monster. You don’t love me.” She’d wail to me, and I wouldn’t respond. She looked ugly when she cried. She was normally so youthful and pretty. It felt weird.

I don’t know if I loved her or not. I wanted her to love me, but somewhere along down the line I stopped caring if she was there or not.

Sometimes she tried to be a mother. She taught me how to count a bit and the alphabet, although I only knew how to write my name.

Ashton. Mother never called me by my name. She’d always call me something, but it was never my name. It’s like she didn’t want to admit that I had a name, that I was real.

I was still upset, because now alongside me being in the closet when mother was working, Lily was there too. I don’t think babies like dark smelly closets, because she’d always start to cry. I’d have to muffle her mouth sometimes. When mother would let us out she’d look at Lily angrily; it felt weird.

I’d scratch at the walls like I normally did, and I’d dream about waking up to the smell of porridge and eggs. I’d never had an egg before. Mother wouldn’t tell me about them, but I’m sure they must have been nice.

“You’re such an ugly boy. Such an ugly colour you are.”

I didn’t know what colour I was. I think I’m normal, but mother always was paler than me. I must have looked like whoever my father was, that’s why she hated me.

Because I was ugly and sinful.

One day, after a cold day where she got no work, where me and Lily solemnly played on the corner of the room ourselves, she disappeared.

I saw her leaving through the door, and got up to chase her.

She was gone.

Into the thin air, she disappeared.

I simply sat there.

Just how sinful and disgusting am I, that my own mother wanted to leave me?

#littlelady #creepypasta #creepypasta fandom #creepypasta au #puppet strings #zalgo creepypasta #EDGY BOY HOURS #Zalgo backstory #zalgo headcanons #lord zalgo

7 notes · View notes

animatorweirdo · 2 years

Text

The song of the waves

(Most likely the last chapter until I decide to continue it. Thank you again my friend for helping and hope you enjoyed)

You wished to end it all, forgotten into the depths of the sea. However, fate decided otherwise as you were saved by a mysterious creature with a voice of an angel and glittering scales.

Warnings: angst, headache, mentions of the attempted suicide, fear, shock and a rude merman.

Chapter 3

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

You woke up to the warmth and light on your face. The sun rose on the horizon, the sunlight caressing you with gentle kisses. You groaned when a painful headache struck you in the brain, and your muscles strained painfully after laying in an uncomfortable position.

You heard voices, then a splash when you got up. You adjusted your eyes to the light, and as you became more aware of your surroundings, you uncovered yourself from the boat sheet. You smacked your lips, tasting something salty and unpleasant. You rubbed your head and felt tangles in your hair through your fingers.

You took a deep breath and exhaled through your nose. Your eyes wandered around, and you froze when you noticed your surroundings.

You were back in your boat, on the docks, in the port city that you were confident you left during midnight.

"What –" You said to yourself. Your first thought, you were dreaming until you saw the broken rope around your ankle and noticed your dampened clothes. It struck you with more confusion.

How are you back on the docks?

"Kid!" You jumped when the dock master suddenly showed up. “Where did you go? I couldn't find you anywhere last night,” He started. “Uhm —” You hesitated. “ And — why are you wet like a rat in a cargo ship? Did you take a midnight dip in the sea?” He questioned in confusion while pointing out your damp appearance. “ I – fell overboard,” You quickly excused hiding the truth about what you actually did during the night. You covered your leg before he could notice the rope around it.

“Then what? You slept on the boat?” He asked. “Have you forgotten sleeping on the boat on nights is dangerous?” He added. “What if you accidentally drafted away or crashed into the rocks?!” His tone became louder as he continued to glare at you in concern.

You slightly flinched. “Yeah — I’m sorry, Meldrick. I try to make sure it won’t happen again.” You said ashamed. You never feared someone’s disappointment or scolding as much as Meldrick’s. He’s the last person you’d want to be worried about you.

The older man’s expression softened when he heard your quiet voice. “It’s alright, kid. I’m just glad nothing happened to you.” He toned down his voice. For a moment, that tone brought you small comfort.

“Tighten up the boat and go home to change. We don’t want you to get sick now, do we?” Meldrick said before leaving.

You sighed and pulled yourself out of the boat, tightening the ropes around the mooring before sitting down on the dock and rubbing your aching head.

Everything was hazy, the last thing you remember was the light, the song, and a pair of eyes staring back at you from the water. You snapped your head up upon the realization. Did someone save you from your attempted suicide?

It would explain how you were still alive and back at the docks, but you had no recollection of a ship or people who might have rescued you. But if there was a person who saved you, why would they leave you in one of the most isolated dock places and leave you unconscious on your boat?

You groaned when another pain struck your head. All the thinking and trying to find any sense must be causing the killer headache, so you should probably stop thinking now.

Your ears picked up talking. It sounded faint yet rushed. It was like someone was hurriedly trying to stop someone from doing anything rash or foolish. You then heard a loud splash, and suddenly there was a person in the water, looking right back at you.

The blue scales upon his tail and skin glistened with water and sunlight, making them pop like little diamonds. His ears were pointy and sharp like his fins. His hair was dark as the night, and his two silver eyes were like two stars. He was one of the most handsome and beautiful men you have ever seen in your whole life. However — you did not ignore the fact that the lower half of his body was a fishtail, and you knew damn well you were not dreaming at that moment.

So, you reacted as any other person would in that situation – with shock and fear.

You backed away in fright. “Hey, hey, it’s alright. You do not need to be afraid of me, child of the land.” He spoke fluently in your language. His voice was soft as he used the flooring to bring himself up a little. You were too frozen to say anything as you stared into his eyes, which you oddly found familiar.

Much to your ever-increasing shock, more of them suddenly appeared beside the dark-haired being. “Have you finally lost it?!” The golden-haired one almost yelled at him. “We were only supposed to bring them back to safety and see they’re alright. Why did you need to reveal yourself to them?!” He scolded. A distant of your mind noted the irony of the golden creature’s words, but you decided to store that thought away for now. You looked at the others while the two were almost screeching like angry seagulls.

There was another blond one with a silvery white tail and a pair of twins who had matching crimson-colored tails. They were all looking at you quietly with curiosity in their eyes.

You only paled, and all the stories about merfolk and mermaids crossed your mind. You had to pinch yourself to see you were not hallucinating.

You looked at the two who were still at it. The golden blondie was not very happy with the dark-haired one. “I’m sorry for interrupting —” You said, making the two stop and look at you. “But aren’t you guys supposed to be a fairy tale?” You questioned.

The silver-haired blondie chuckled in amusement. “Well, as you can see we’re quite real,” The merman explained with a smirk and flourish of his hands pointing at the very obvious tail.

“It doesn’t matter. We should get going now that we have ensured their safety to the land.” The golden-haired merman said. “How are you feeling?” The dark-haired man asked, ignoring what his friend was saying moments ago.

“I’m – fine.” You said, uncertain what you were supposed to do in this situation. Your eyes trailed off to his ears.

“Makalaure, are you even listening?” The golden merman questioned as you two were locked in an odd staring contest.

You leaned closer to him. “Excuse me –” You said, then brought your hands to touch his ears. Makalaure froze as you rubbed his ears and felt the skin and tip under your fingers, but he couldn't help but let you do it freely. He even found it oddly pleasant.

Angarato had his mouth open and was watching in shock. The twins were watching in curiosity while Tyelko was smirking and almost giggling at the sight.

Angarato looked at you with a frown. “Human, don’t you have any manners?!” He asked almost in a demanding tone, appalled by your action.

You pulled away, feeling your fingers. “I’m sorry. I needed to see if they were real,” You explained while looking at Makalaure. He nearly smiled. The touching of his ears was odd, but he couldn't bring himself to be mad at you. You were only sating your curiosity after all.

Tyelko smirked. “Well, don’t be shy. Touch him more.” He said, which earned him looks from all of you.

“Why did you jump into the sea last night?” One of the twins asked. “What?” You asked. “We found you near our usual meeting place, drowning, so we decided to help you.” The dark-haired man explained. “Oh —” Your eyes clouded when you realized what they meant.

You had disturbed them with your pathetic attempt to end your life and now you were back again. It left your mind hollow and embarrassed by such a thing, even when the said people are mythical creatures that should not exist but in fairy tales. You sighed and untied the broken rope from your ankle.

“I’m — sorry for bothering you. I try to make sure it won’t happen again.” You stood up, throwing the broken piece of the rope back into the boat. “I should probably go home.” You turned around. “Hey, how can we be sure you won’t tell about us?!” Angarato demanded with suspicion in his eyes. “Well, I’m pretty sure everyone on this island believes you do not exist, and I don’t get along with many people, so who do you think would believe me?” You questioned.

“That’s a good point.” Tyelko inquired with a nod. “Who would believe them if they’re the only ones who had the privilege to meet us?” He questioned.

Angarato thought about it for a moment. “I guess — that makes sense.” He stated, then looked at the others. “We should return home. We have already spent too much time here, so if we wish to have a less terrible punishment we should go now.” He said.

“I hate to admit it, but he’s right. I can already see our father fuming with anger, so we better get going before our people come looking for us.” Tyelko said nodding and then looking at you. “It was nice meeting you. Take care of yourself.” He smiled, slowly swimming away.

“Bye,” The twins waved their hands and followed their brother, splashing some water with a sweep of their tail. The dark-haired one stayed while the others left. You both looked at each other.

“I know what you were trying to do last night.” He stated. “Yeah — I’m sorry if I caused you trouble.” You rubbed the back of your head as the headache was slowly soothing. “You do not need to apologize, but I wish to know what would have caused you to try such a thing and not keep on living.” He explained, following you as you slowly retreated from the dock.

“Listen, you do not need to bother yourself with me anymore.” You stopped and looked at him with tired eyes. “I’m just having personal issues, and I doubt you would understand it, so let us just leave it there and continue with our lives.” You said, gesturing with your hand.

“But if I want to understand it?” Makalaure asked. “Then let me put it in a way you might understand –” You crouched down to his eye level. “I wanted the pain to stop.” You stared right into his eyes as you said that.

“Makalaure!” Angarato called out. You both looked and saw the others waiting for him.

“You should go. I don’t want to keep you waiting any longer.” You stood up. “Thank you for saving me, I guess.” You said with a shrug as you finally left the dock.

Makalaure watched as you left the docks and stepped on the land. He couldn't brush off the look in your eyes when you said that you wanted the pain to stop. Your eyes and the expression on your face seemed hollow, drained from life. He tried to conclude the pain you mentioned. You didn’t look like you had physical pain, so it must have been an emotional type of pain. Something that greatly affected your state of mind and fea. He almost sensed it, the sadness that encased you from within.

Makalaure turned around and swam after his brothers and cousin. The group managed to swim away from the docks unseen and return to the depths of the sea. The encounter left them all shaken, and the twins couldn't stop talking, seemingly excited about their first encounter with a human. Angarato was scolding while Tyelko was teasing Makalaure about the kiss that saved your life.

However, Makalaure couldn't stop thinking about you after that encounter. The sadness and the pain in your eyes haunted him and made him reconsider if interfering with your attempted suicide was the right choice. Should he have left you in peace? Deep down, he was worried you might try to end your life again in another way. He feared that there would be no one to save you if that happens again. He feared seeing a lifeless figure in the depths of the sea again, and that figure would have your face.

There was a low chance you two would meet again, but it did not help him to subside his desire to see and talk to you again and possibly help you recover from what was causing your pain.

#maglor x reader #silmarillion x reader #maglor #makalaure #tyelkormo #celegorm #ambarussa #angarato #middle earth x reader #tolkien #silm fic #silmarillion #silmarillion au #mermaid au #mermaid maglor #human reader #angst

31 notes · View notes

typhonserpent · 1 year

Text

Death-Head's Gift

Fandom: Death-Heads Deal/Pokemon crossover Rating: Teen (swearing, violence) Genre: Slice-of-Life Pairing: Primm (Grimm/Pearl) Summary: Pokemon AU. Grimm wants to surprise his wife with a new Pokemon, but catching the one she wants will be a challenge. Luckily, Alrick and his team are there to help.

This is a gift for @LittleGrayRam as a part of the DHD Discord's secret santa event. If you want a macabre but surprisingly warm hearted webcomic to read, pick up Death-Head's Deal, join the discord, and of course read this fic. <3

✦ My Writing Tag ✦

✦ AO3 Link ✦

All day long, the full-face bear couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being watched.

He wasn’t doing anything unusual. He’d gone to a meeting with some high profile bank owners, filed the necessary paperwork to sell his share of his company’s stock, met for lunch with his wife, and spent the afternoon chasing down a few local street rats to pay them for a job well done. After work, he went out for dinner with his other wife and then wrapped up the night at his favorite bar, where he snorted lines of coke with a few of his colleges. Now the night had turned pitch-black, and the bar was emptying. He wasn’t keen on leaving his brand new car at the bar until morning, so he was taking a walk to clear his head. Every now and again, it felt like someone was staring over his shoulder, but when he looked behind him, nothing was there. Just like at the bar … and the coffee shop … and the restaurant … and in the park …

He looked behind him, and again, saw only shadows and parked cars.

He quickened his pace

He was only a few blocks away from the bar. He’d be fine. He just had to make it to his car.

The streetlights flickered. The shadows beneath his feet shifted unnaturally. He froze, eyes wide, swiveling at breakneck speed.

Behind him. A new shadow.

It approached. His forehead was damp with sweat.

A tiny Yamper stepped into the light.

Hand over his chest, the bear sighed, finding every inch of him still tense and shaking. The Yamper gave a single, high pitched bark

“Hey there, little guy.” He said, kneeling, “Gave me a scare. You lost?”

The Yamper leaned forward to sniff his fingers and suddenly the streetlamp above him shattered, bathing them in broken glass and darkness. He looked up and into a pair of wicked, glowing red eyes. A sharp-toothed smile appeared below. The eyes bounced in delight with the sounds of a deep-pitched laugh that sent chills down his spine.

Terrified, the man stood and stepped backwards, only to trip on a vine that had suddenly spread behind him. Immediately, the vines wrapped themselves around his ankles, and the accompanying Bulbasaur stepped into his field of view.

“Fuck …” He breathed as the Gengar revealed itself, still standing behind the happy, panting Yamper.

Two half faced rabbits followed behind the Pokemon, their Death-Head masks glowing white as they stepped out of the darkness. They were carrying bats.

He reached for his belt, where three Pokeballs were clipped. He’d paid a lot of money for this team, for exactly this reason. His hand was shaking. He blindly threw the ball, and his wrist was immediately snagged by one of Bulbasaur’s vines. The ball flew and slowed to a stop, encased in the purple glow of Gengar’s ghostly hold.

The shorter of the two Death-Heads, whose bare arms were covered in scars, laughed, “Oh fuck no. Batter up!”

He hit the ball full force with his bat, and it shattered into pieces.

When the man reached for another ball, the silent Death-Head his hit hand full force. He heard the crunch of bones in his wrist. With chilling calm, the silent Death-Head removed the remaining balls from the man’s belt. He was regarding this task as though it were another pile of papers dropped on his desk.

“NO! PLEASE!” He cried, throwing up his uninjured hand in surrender, “DON’T DO IT! PLEASE!!!”

“Too bad, buddy.” Joon said, “Sucks to be on the receiving end of a deal.”

Alrick snapped his fingers, and the Bulbasaur turned to him. Fingers extended, he closed his fist, and the Bulbasaur’s vines crept up and bound the man from head to foot.

The man was gagged, blindfolded, and transported by the cold touch of Ghastly’s levitation. Twenty minutes later, he was thrown onto a metal chair. The Bulbasaur finally released the man, only for his hands to be cuffed behind him. The blindfold was removed. He stared face-to-face with a warthog woman, her tusks sharpened to fine points, her features hidden behind a familiar skull mask.

“I’m going to cut the crap and get right to the point.” She said, “We’ve had a hell of a time finding you. You’ve worked really hard to maintain a double life, and confirming you’re you, much less approaching you with that black-market pokemon team of yours, took not one, but two of my boys. I ran out of patience a long time ago, but unfortunately for you, someone is paying us a lot to squeeze information out of you.”

The man’s breathing was fast and heavy. She yanked the duct tape off his mouth, earning a cry of pain, leaving his lips raw and chapped.

“So … let’s start why you sold your company’s stocks this morning.”

He squirmed. The edges of the metal chair cut into his pants, “I… I just planned on retiring early is all. It’s time to move on.”

She heaved a sigh, “And here I thought it would be easy … Torkoal?”

Beneath the chair, the man felt movement. He looked down. The Torkoal’s head appeared and met his face.

“N-no … NO!”

The volcanic opening on Torkoals back glowed an angry orange. Smoke belched. The Torkoal lit its shell ablaze, and the mans screams filled the room.

x – X – x

Grimm reached into the kitchen cupboard, removed a box of sugar, and was greeted by a demanding mew. The Espeon below him flicked her tail in annoyance and nudged her food bowl in his direction.

“So demanding.” He chuckled, putting back the sugar and reaching instead for the Pokechow.

“Jasper! You know better.”Pearl scolded from her seat at the kitchen island.

“My own fault for being so audacious as to prepare my coffee before her breakfast.” Grim replied, pouring the food into into the bowl.

Pearl lowered her phone, “She’s been so clingy ever since they switched my schedule. I feel awful that she’s cooped up by herself all day.”

“Perhaps she’d like a companion?” Grimm took his seat across from her, coffee and bagel in either hand, “Pokemon generally perform better in teams, and my Charizard and Nidoking aren’t exactly housepets. We could look into adopting another Pokemon.”

“Oh! That reminds me.” Pearl picked up her phone and pulled up the article she’d been reading, “Look at this, someone spotted a Pikachu at this campground. It’s just a couple hours outside of Lywood.”

Grimm skimmed the article, pausing to study the attached photo. It was mostly blurry trees and shadows, but there was little doubting the creature that was hiding in the darkness; that distinct shape and familiar yellow color, those pointed ears atop.

He gave her an incredulous look.

“You want a Pikachu?”

“Oh, goodness, no. Are you kidding me? I mean breeding was banned so long ago, and it’s so highly regulated you can’t even find them on the black market. Not that you’d want one that’s so horribly inbred anyway, I mean that’s why they banned it in the first place, and even if you’re lucky enough to find one being sold legitimately it’s worth more than our house, and forget finding one in the wild unless you live in Kanto or Alola, and even then-”

She froze, suddenly noticing the amused smirk on Grimm’s face.

When she’d first met him, before she’d ever met any Death-Head, that look might have sent frozen her in place. His eyes always told another story. He was amused, but he was looking at her with the same eyes he might watch her undress with. He loved watching her be excited.

She froze in place, but not from fear. She was blushing.

“I have to confess,” She said with a sheepish smile, “I know it’s seen as kind of childish these days but I always really loved Pikachu. Back when it was popular, my room as basically covered in merch.”

“So you do want a Pikachu?”

“Sure, and I want to win the lottery too, but I’d have to buy a ticket first.”

“Waste of money. You’re better off buying a Pikachu. Pad thai for dinner?”

“Now that sounds worth the price.”

“I’ll pick it up on the way home.” He stood, giving her a quick kiss.

“You’re the best.” Pearl caressed his cheek, not shying away from his Death-Head mask. It was as much a part of him as the markings beneath, and she loved every part of him.

Grim took her hand and kissed her knuckles, then left for work.

x – X – x

Three mugs of beer clacked together.

“To a job well done, boys!” Rena cheered.

Rena, Alrick, and Joon had a feast of fried noodles, dumplings, curry, and rice laid out before them.

“Dig in, boys. You’ve earned it.” She continued, “That job netted us a big payout, and a huge influx of new clients, and it’s all thanks to your and your teams.”

Joon had already begun stuffing his face with fried rice. Alrick was politely picking at some white rice and soy sauce.

“I’m not going to lie, Joon, I thought Gengar’s scary face routine would have stopped working years ago. You’d think people would get used to it.”

“It never fails!” Joon replied, brandishing a butter knife as though it were a sword, “Sometimes I let him out of his Pokeball at night and he gets me just for shits. We wouldn’t have figured out about his double life if it weren’t for Alrick’s new addition, though.”

Alrick gave him a thumbs up.

“That Yamper of yours is a good tracker.” Rena added, “About time you got a companion for your Bulbasaur. Next you should try convincing the stubborn thing to evolve.”

He shrugged.

A shadow fell over Joon’s plate of fried prawns (now reduced mostly to chewed tails). He looked up to see a fellow Death-Head looming over them. He paused mid-bite, meeting the half-face cat’s deadpan stare.

“Hey, I’ve seen you before.” Joon said, pointing the prawn at him, “North faction, right?”

“Grimm!” Rena raised her mug, “To what do I owe the honor?”

“Actually, I’m just picking up dinner. I didn’t intend to eavesdrop, but I overheard some of your conversation.”

“Eavesdrop all you want, I’m bragging!” She laughed, “My boys earned dinner and a few beers on me. Real tough case. Had use Torkoal to get the pig to squeal, but I wouldn’t have caught him in the first place if not for Joon’s Gengar and Alrick’s Yamper.”

“Your Yamper is a good tracker, then? Would you be willing to use him for another job? I have something in mind.”

Alrick typed on his phone.

‘If the work is safe and reasonable, I am willing. However, Bob Barker is not mine. You will have to ask his owner.’

Grim paused, staring at Alrick’s face through the phone.

“… His nickname is Bob Barker?”

x – X – x

LouLou was greeted by two Burmy that dropped from the ceiling and a Yamper wiggling the back half of its body.

“Bobby! It’s good to see you, too!” She said, kneeling to scratch the Yamper’s ears. The two Burmy shook their leaves loudly.

“And good to see you two as well.” She said, nodding at them, “Your cloaks are growing in well. Alrick really is a miracle worker.”

Alrick stepped out of the kitchen with a tea tray in hand, setting it on the coffee table. LouLou’s attention was drawn to the dark man sitting on the couch. He rose, revealing a painted skull mask and the lines of a permanent scowl etched over his face.

He was eating a cheese stick.

LouLou didn’t hide the fear that washed over her face. The Yamper weaving between her feet wasn’t helping the mood.

“Alrick, you didn’t tell me your friend was another Death-Head.” She whispered.

“I am not here on Death Head business, miss. Nothing official, no deals have been made. If anything, I wish to make a deal with you.”

She looked to Alrick, who had poured himself a cup of tea. He walked to her and placed a hand on her shoulder, giving it a squeeze. She felt her nerves melt under his touch. She felt safe around him, and if he said this man was safe, then she would believe him.

“Let’s start with introductions.” The man said, gesturing to the couch. The three of them sat around one another while Alrick poured tea. The Yamper settled in on LouLou’s feet, and the Burmy retracted to quietly cling to the ceiling.

“My name is Grim,” He said, “I know Alrick from work, though we don’t work in the same faction.”

“LouLou,” She said, accepting a cup from Alrick, “Alrick and I grew up in Lywood together. I actually just moved back a few months ago. Alrick was nice enough to rehome Bobby for me.” She patted the Yamper on the head. He wagged his its stubby tail in response.

“I had to move into a much smaller apartment and they don’t allow pets. I was impressed by how Alrick was able to command his Bulbasaur with hand signals. Bob Barker’s still pretty young so he has a lot to learn, but he’s the puppy of the Yamper I had growing up. He means a lot to me. It’s been so nice to be able to visit him and know he’s in good hands.”

“Your Yamper is the actually the reason for my visit. His tracking abilities are becoming a bit of a legend. And you’re comfortable with him being used for jobs?”

“I trust Alrick, and I know he won’t put Bob Barker in any danger. He assured me his only fighter was Bulbasaur, and that Bobby wouldn’t be involved in any battles. Only for tracking. I didn’t even know he had such a good nose! Though I guess that explains how he always found where I hid my hats. I still don’t own any hats without bite marks. Hold on!” She looked up, realization seizing her attention, “Please don’t tell me you want to use Bobby for a job. I don’t want him to be hurt. He means too much to me.”

“No, no.” Grim said, holding up his hand, “Not for a job. At least, not for a Death-Head job. No danger will be involved, you have my word. I wish only for his help tracking a wild pokemon, A Pikachu, specifically. As a gift for my wife.”

“Your … wife?”

“You seem surprised. We Death-Heads have families and loved ones, too.”

“No no, I know that, of course. I guess I just didn’t expect such a … sweet gesture from such an intimidating looking man. No offense.”

“None taken. Will you agree, then?”

She sighed, glancing down at the Yamper on her feet.

Grim moved from his seat, kneeling in front of her. He scratched the Yamper on the head, stirring it from its sleep. It looked up at him, wagging it’s tail.

“Ma’am, you have my word. No harm will fall upon your Pokemon.”

“No battles?”

“None whatsoever. On my honor.”

She glanced at Alrick, who gave her a thumbs up.

Taking a deep breath, she nodded.

“Alright. I trust you.”

A few days later, she was bidding them goodbye outside of the flower shop.

“I’ll make sure the Burmy stay out of trouble.” She said, taking Alrick’s keys from him, “The Cherrim is moved to the balcony any time the sun is out, and the Sunkern gets water every other day, right?”

Alrick nodded. She gave him a salute.

“Take care of my pokemon, and I’ll take care of yours. You two stay safe out there!”

“We shouldn’t be gone for more than a day or two, but if the area is flooded with trainers, it’s likely the Pikachu has retreated further into the woods.” Grim explained, “We won’t have a phone signal that far out, but if we wind up gone for more than a week, we’ll return here and make a new plan.”

LouLou knelt, letting the Yamper jump into her arms and nuzzle into her neck, “Be a good boy, now. I love you.”

The Yamper yapped in response. She set him down and Alrick pressed the button on his pokeball, allowing him to retreat with a familiar mechanical sound.

On the street, Grim’s Charizard was outfitted with a saddle and bags on either side. Grim hoisted himself onto the Charizard’s back, and Alrick straddled the spot directly behind. With a gentle nudge, the Charizard was in the air. LouLou waved as they took off.

They cleared the skies of Lywood, leaving the familiar smog of the city and soaring over surrounding fields and farmland. They followed the road until the settled land turned into wild trees and untamed wilderness. Flocks of Spearow passed by every now and again

It was evening by the time they reached their destination. The road leading in was littered with cars and ride pokemon. The hiking trail and campgrounds were crawling with trainers. They flew further in, until the officially marked campgrounds disappeared and all that could be seen was trees and the occasional tent or campfire. They flew further still, until there were no signs of civilized life whatsoever. It was pitch-dark when they eventually landed in a small clearing.

Hopping off Charizard, Alrick released Bobby while Grimm tended to Charizard. The excitable Yamper spun in circles, sniffing every inch of his new surroundings, until Alrick snapped his fingers, causing the Yamper to stand at attention. From his pocket, he produced a plastic baggie with a lock of yellow hair inside, opening it, he allowed Bobby to sniff. After a few seconds, Bobby put his nose to the ground, and paced, eventually working his way in circles to the edge of the clearing.

Grimm was feeding his Charizard a pokepuff when Alrick typed a message on his phone.

‘He’ll bark when he’s found a trail.’

It happened before either of them could react. Immediately, the Yamper’s terrified yelps carried it away from the shadows at the edge of the clearing, darting across the field, through the two Death-Heads, and into the woods at the opposite end. Alrick panicked, his eyes wide, his gaze darting from the place Bobby had come from, to the place he’d run into, and then back again.

“I’ll find out what’s over there.” Grimm said, “He couldn’t have gotten far. Probably just spooked by another pokemon. Take Charizard for light and meet me back here in an hour?”

Alrick gave him a thumbs up.

Alrick left, his path illuminated by the light from Charizard’s tail. Grim went the opposite way, feline eyes glowing in the darkness.

Alrick kept his ears perked. While they walked, he occasionally snapped his fingers. When he heard a rustle in the bushes, he swiveled and immediately released Bulbasaur. Bulbasaur stood poised to attack. When the Fearow rose from the foliage, Alrick quickly realized his mistake. He snapped his fingers twice. Dodge.

The Bulbasaur scrambled to move out of the way, still managing to catch the edge of the Fearow’s wing attack. Bulbasaur fell, his bulb split in twain. Not easily beaten, the Bulbasaur stood on shaky les to face the Fearow as it took to the sky. Alrick snapped his fingers and clapped his hands once. Attack one.

Bulbasaur unleashed spores of sleep powder from its bulb. As it swooped Fearow kicked up the wind with its wings and dissipated the sleep powder with ease. Alrick dove, encasing Bulbasaur in his arms to block the impending attack. He felt the brush of feathers against his back, expecting the sharp pain of a peck to follow. The attack was interrupted when Charizard leapt into action with a ferocious growl.

Alrick rose to his feet, clutching the injured Bulbasaur to his chest, and watched as Charizard and the Fearow went head to head. Feathers and blood alike flew. Charizard had a long gash across his forehead and had Fearow’s wing in his teeth. Fearow pecked at Charizard’s neck and chest until Charizard released it. The second it was able, the Fearow took to the air. Charizard responded with a flamethrower, missing the Fearow and instead lighting the foliage nearby.

Charizard looked past the Fearow, past the flaming bushes, and for a brief second, Alrick swore he saw a the shadows shift behind the flames. Charizard’s eyes widened, and immediately released another trail of flames from its mouth. Instinctively, Alrick snapped his fingers. If Charizard understood him, it didn’t matter. The panicked pokemon was attacking every shadow around them, and every dried twig and tree was catching alight as he did so. Alrick stepped back until he was up against a tree. Helpless, he watched as the flames crackled around him and grew with every panicked attack. Everywhere he turned, there was more fire. Charizard took to the air.

He still clutching his Bulbasaur. Bulbasaur dug his claws into Alrick’s shirt, looking up at him with large eyes. Hesitantly, Alrick touched the injured bulb, and Bulbasaur yelped in response. With a sigh, Alrick returned Bulbasaur to his pokeball and clutched it tight.

He tried stomping the flames, then he tried tossing dirt onto them. He removed his jacket and tried smothering them. He crawled on all fours hoping one of the bushes would let him through. Maybe there was a gap somewhere. Anywhere.

The leaves behind the ring of fire rustled. Like a bloodied phoenix, the Fearow rose, its beady eyes trained on Alrick. He clutched pokeball close to his chest, weighing his options, when he heard a tiny yap. His fur matted and tangled with leaves, Bobby crawled under roots and bushes to reach Alricks side and face the Fearow. Bobby’s lips curled in a snarl and his fur bristled with electricity. Before Alrick could react, the Fearow swooped, and the Yamper opened his jaw wide to reveal sets of sharp, crackling teeth.

Thunder fang.

Bobby jumped and sank his teeth into the Fearow’s neck as soon as it was within range. The Fearow’s eyes widened, its whole body stiffened with the jolts that ran through its body. Light flashed, and the smell of burned feathers overtook the smell of smoke. The Fearow collapsed, and Bobby released it. When it stirred, Bobby growled. Despite its injuries, the Fearow unsteadily rose to its feet, glaring at Bobby and Alrick.

Suddenly, Bobby was enveloped in a white light.

Alrick stood slack-jawed. The Fearow poised to strike. Thinking fast, Alrick snapped his fingers and clapped his hands once. Attack one The newly evolved Boltund charged.

It was over in a second. The weakened Fearow fell to another thunder fang, and Bobby, looking very proud of himself, ran back to Alrick with his tail wagging.

For a moment, Alrick felt a flood of relief. Bobby jumped to his hind legs, now easily able to rest his front paws on Alrick’s chest. He rewarded Bobby with ear rubs. What a good boy

A tree branch snapped and fell near them, spitting embers and charred debris up in its wake. The wood crackled and split. Bobby looked up at him with his ears bent back, and whimpered.

His heart sinking, Alrick returned Bobby to his pokeball, then clutched the pokeballs of both of his precious pokemon to his chest.

x – X – x

Grimm’s Nidoking finished off the last Spearow with a swipe of his tail. The bird fell in a crumpled heap on the ground. He immediately returned Nidoking to his pokeball.

The forest was quiet here, save for the songs of bugs and the cries of nocturnal pokemon. Grimmm’s boots crunched dry autumn leaves. A babbling brook could be heard close by. A flock of Zubat flew overhead, but seemed uninterested in him. Glowing feline eyes narrowed to make out a nearby cave from which the last of the Zubat flock was pouring. When a flash of yellow disappeared into the cave, his cat ears perked.

He cave was overtaken largely by the stink of Zubat guano. His nose wrinkled. There were plenty of nooks and crannies where a pokemon could hide, but he couldn’t gauge how deep it was just by looking.

He decided, quite quickly, that he didn’t want to waste time spelunking tonight. He released Nidoking from the pokeball and said in a cold, calm voice, “Nidoking, sludge wave.”

Nidoking opened his mouth and released a torrent of toxic purple liquid. The cave floor was flooded with a thin layer of poison. Grim picked up a foot and kicked a bit off his boots.

From behind one of the rocks, a large shadowy claw reached up. The darkness parted into a wicked smile, accompanied by wicked, glowing red eyes. Nidoking took a few steps back. Grimm stood off to the side, just out of the face’s direct line of sight.

“Nidoking.” Grimm growled, “Stand your ground.”

The pokemon glanced behind at his master, then back at the shadowy visage, then back at his master. It was clear which one was scarier. Grimm cocked one eyebrow and rubbed his chin, studying the scary face before them.

“Not unlike Joon’s Gengar. Fascinating. Nidoking, ice beam. Now.”

Nidoking obeyed, unleashing an icy spray with so much force that the rock before them was shattered. The familiar yellow pokemon was revealed, and no sooner did it see its predicament than did Nidoking’s ice beam hit the pokemon full force, flinging him a few feet back. The pokemon skidded to a stop and stood, dazed and wobbly. At the neck, his head flopped to one side as though broken.

“Wait.” Grim commanded, and walked past Nidoking. The pokemon, his head hanging limp, turned to Grimm as he approached. On the pokemon’s stomach, two black dots seemed to widen. He jumped and backed up against the wall.

Taking out his phone, Grim opened his Pokedex app, and scanned the creature before him.

Mimikyuu – Disguise Pokemon - It wears a rag fashioned into a Pikachu costume in an effort to look less scary. Although it's a quiet, lonely Pokémon, if you try to look at what's under its rag, it will become agitated and resist violently.

“Hmm,” Grimm hummed, pocketing his phone, “So it wasn’t a Pikachu after all. I suppose you’re the one who scared Mr. Barker earlier, too.”

The Mimikyuu trembled.

“I won’t hurt you. Here.” Gently, he took the head of the Mimikyuu’s disguise and stood it upright. Producing a potion from his pocket, he sprayed it on the Mimikyuu, healing whatever wounds the battle had inflicted.

“I can relate to you, you know. Most people are scared of me, and a precious few have seen under my mask.”

Looking up at him, the Mimikyuu made a little squeak.

“You’re welcome.” He said, patting the Mimikyuu’s head.

He left the cave with the Mimikyuu in his arms and Nidoking at his back. His ears twitched when he heard the familiar roar of his Charizard. The Charizard landed before him, and Grimm’s disappointment was evident by the glare he wore.

“Where is Alrick?” He asked, and the Charizard replied with a sheepish look.

He sighed. The smell of smoke was quickly apparent, and the story in full came together.

“You’re a real troublemaker when left unchecked, aren’t you?” He said to the pokemon in his arms. The Mimikyuu glanced up at him innocently, “Come along then, let’s clean up this mess”

x – X – x

The fire roared around Alrick. His long, sensitive ears were bent back against his head. The two precious pokeballs stayed close to his chest. His shirt was tugged up over his nose and his eyes were squeezed shut against the stinging smoke.

Suddenly, a crackling whoosh, like dirt thrown into the wind. A sudden sense of cool cut a line against his side. He dared to look up, and saw as another flaming bush was suddenly doused in sand.

Grimm pointed, and Nidoking put out a third fire with it’s sand tomb.

Stunned, Alrick watched until the flames were all drowned. Grimm approached him and held out his hand for Alrick to take. He had a strange yellow pokemon perched on his shoulder.

Alrick had never felt so relieved, and his expression spoke every word that he couldn’t. Grimm helped hoist him up and rested a hand on his shoulder. There was a moment of silent comradery between them. Neither of them needed to talk. In fact, the silence was welcome.

When their moment was over, Alrick took out his phone and scanned the pokemon on Grimm’s shoulder. Reading the description, he smirked and shook his head.

“I owe you a debt for your help, and I owe Charizard some firm re-training, but it seems we’ve found our little troublemaker, as well as the source of the Pikachu sightings.”

He motioned for Alrick to follow. Charizard was waiting close by.

“We’ll find somewhere to rest for the night and return to Lywood tomorrow. I imagine LouLou will be happy to see Mr. Barker again.”

Dread sank into Alrick’s chest. He glanced at the pokeball in his hand.

He had no idea if LouLou was going to be happy to see him.

x – X – x

They parted at the street in front of Alrick’s apartment. Grimm stayed seated on Charizard while Alrick dismounted. They paused and met eyes just as Alrick’s boots hit the pavement.

“Why the long face?” Grimm asked.

Alrick released Bobby from the pokeball. The Boltund gave him a happy bark.

“… I see.”

Alrick turned, motioning for the Boltund to follow.

As Grimm flew away, his sensitive feline ears could hear as Alrick entered the apartment.

“Welcome back, Alrick! Did it go w-WHAAA? BOBBY!? IS THAT YOU?”

x – X – x

Equally as loud as LouLou had been, Pearl squealed, holding her cheeks in her hands.

“OH I love it! It’s even better than a Pikachu!”

Sitting on their dining table, the Mimikyu squeaked, and for a brief second, seemed to be blushing beneath his disguise.

“You’re the best husband ever!” She threw her arms around Grimm. He who remained stoic but bore a soft, gentle smile uncharacteristic of the hardened Death-Head that the streets knew. “Is this where you’ve been all night? I thought you were just on a job!”

Grimm shrugged, setting his hands on her hips. “It was a job, in a way. Seeing you smile is worth any Death-Head’s price.” He kissed her forehead.

“You softie … wait, you didn’t actually make a Death-Head deal for this you?”

“Not a Death-Head deal, no.”

“Oh, thank goodness.” She sighed, clutching her chest, “Well let’s get this little guy fed and washed. We’ll have to come up with a name, too.”

“I had a name in mind, actually.”

x – X – x

LouLou flopped onto the couch, burying her face in her hands. Bobby sat on her feet as before, but his eyes now easily met hers. He panted and wagged his tail.

“This is too much to take in.” She groaned, “Is this why you were always picking on the neighbor’s Meowth?”

Alrick returned from the kitchen with a mug in each hand. He glanced at her sheepishly as he sat one coffee on the table and sat in the armchair with the other.

“I can’t be mad about it.” She sighed, leaning back, “Especially when Bobby jumped into the fight on his own. I guess if he wants to fight so bad, I can’t forbid it anymore. But no dangerous missions, I mean it! I won’t forgive you if Bobby gets hurt.”

Smiling softly, Alrick nodded.

x – X – x

Two full-face bears crouched under a window. The smaller of the two shook with fear.

“Y-you sure about this?”

His companion had malice in her eyes and a crowbar in her hand, “I’ve been staking this place out since yesterday. I just saw the Death-Head get back this morning. He lives here, and so does his wife.”

“Y-yeah, but … what if she’s a Death-Head too?”

“Then she deserves to suffer. A Death-Head tortured and killed my husband. Cheating bastard he may have been, but now I’m out a husband, a house, and all his money. I’ll have my revenge. I’ll hold this bitch hostage for info, and if she’s a Death-Head, I’ll knock her upside the head, too.”

He swallowed. Together, they peered over the window ledge, into the house.

“What the fuck is that? Is that a fucking Pikachu? Damn, this guy’s loaded.”

Pearl finished tying a bright pink bow around her pokemon.

“Like a distinguished gentleman.” She said, “Come with me, sir. Your dinner awaits.” She gave a dramatic bow, then headed to the kitchen. The pokemon briefly glanced at the window, then hopped off the couch.

The woman watched her disappear. “Alright,” She hissed, “Looks like the hubby isn’t home. We probably got a couple hours before-”

She froze, her own words caught in her throat. She stared wide-eyed at the massive black claw that dragged razor-sharp nails across the window. A pair of wicked, glowing red eyes appeared appeared behind it, and a sharp-toothed mouth, grinning, laughing, and mocking her. She stumbled back. Her companion was already running away, screaming.

“F-fuck! What the FUCK is that!?” She shouted. She scrambled to her feet, abandoning her weapon. She ran faster than she ever had in her life. She would never trespass on a Death-Head’s house again.

The Mimikyu’s pitch-black claw retracted back into his disguise. He held his little head high.

“Trouble!” Pearl called from the kitchen, shaking the box of Pokechow, “It’s dinnertime!”

Perking, Trouble happily followed her to the kitchen.

#death head's deal #dhd #typhon writes #fanfic #fanfiction #pokemon #crossover #alrick #primm #grimm #pearl

12 notes · View notes

mrsmarlasinger · 1 year

Text

I posted 9,071 times in 2022

That's 1,181 more posts than 2021!

164 posts created (2%)

8,907 posts reblogged (98%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@powerbottombrucespringsteen

@that-twink-over-there

@rainbow-arrow

@rabbitindisguise

@elytrians

I tagged 3,231 of my posts in 2022

#tlt - 326 posts

#personal - 138 posts

#drug mention - 123 posts

#tumblrstake - 108 posts

#september 2022 - 105 posts

#drugs tw - 103 posts

#goncharov - 96 posts

#ldsconf - 91 posts

#general conference - 91 posts

#coronavirus - 86 posts

Longest Tag: 137 characters

#(btw universe i am knocking on wood and i'm nawt trying to extort *extra* luck by reblogging this a second time okay love u 🤜🪵🤜🪵🤜🪵)

My Top Posts in 2022:

My Favorite TLT Fanart Things

Ianthe

festeringly hawt, not TOO pretty

pale sallow skin. maybe a liiiiittle touch of jaundice, who can say

blood blood blood

small titty committee, but goddamn does she work that cleavage 😳

flat, colorless sheet of long hair (type 1a. texture what texture) that appears vaguely damp at all times

looks like she barely sleeps more than harrow

VISIBLY sickly, washed out, and fucking unhinged

weird vintage-y clothes that she somehow manages to slay OR slinky Barbiecore party girl dress in an obnoxious and unflattering shade of lavender

tall and svelte like a silver screen actress

men's clothes because i pick and choose what's canon here <33

slightly annoying face. punchable woman.

purple is HER color even though it looks terrible on her

evil freak with fucked-up insane eyes

looks at everyone like she's gonna fuck and/or cannibalize them. just radiating the most horrifying sexual energy you've ever seen

slut

cool gross mess of muscle and gristle connecting her bone arm to her shoulder

lean, kind of hollow face with high cheekbones (but still punchable-looking)

eyes either half-lidded and come-hither or just way way too scarily wide

possibly doesn't shower

ianthe can have piercings too. if she wants :)

Gideon | Harrow | Coronabeth

114 notes - Posted November 10, 2022

Dallin H. Oaks is the reason I could not remain in the Church.

Dallin H. Oaks is the reason I can't tell my parents that I've been dating a girl for eight months and I'm in love with her and I gave my virginity to her and the other night I dreamed that I proposed to her.

Dallin H. Oaks is the reason my father delights in saying the f-slur and making fun of his trans coworker, but god forbid the gays should marry, god forbid someone should reject the pronouns they were assigned from their very first breath.

Dallin H. fucking Oaks is the reason my parents and grandparents may never show up to my wedding, should I marry my girl, or meet my children, should I choose to have any.

And of course, it's not just Oaks, and if he weren't the emblem of homophobia in the Church, it would be someone else.

But I resent him so much.

I'm sorry—if nothing else, I believe in love. But I cannot love the man who so intensely embodies and perpetuates the pain I've endured for 21 years.

How dare he.

137 notes - Posted April 3, 2022

My Favorite TLT Fanart Things

Harrow*

androgynously hawt, not TOO pretty

little curved fangs as gauges

lotssss of piercings

BONE INDUSTRIAL PIERCING

emo 14-year-old grunge blogger attire or ornate lacy goth princess attire, no in-between

insane bags under her eyes

NO bone tiddies on the rib corset (why)

mean scary little gremlin and/or pathetic wet scrunkly rat

at least vaguely pissed-looking at (almost) all times

black nail polish

flat af but not emaciated because :(

choker/collar thing made of vertically arranged bones (you know the one)

blood blood blood

doesn't look 25! she's only three years old!!

insane unhinged energy always

soft dark eyes. tender eyes. angry, powerful eyes. haunted eyes.

looks about as put-together as a goth freak on the wrong end of a bender

smeared face paint cuz she's fucked up

CATHOLIC SAINT IMAGERY!!!!

mean, pointy, vaguely sickly little ferret face with small angular features (ideal for conveying A. feral rage, B. tortured sorrow, or C. thinly veiled open exasperation)

hair juuust long enough to curl around her ears and get in her eyes, like an anime boy

neither butch nor femme but a secret third thing

*my special little guy 🖤

Gideon | Ianthe | Coronabeth

153 notes - Posted November 10, 2022

Mormons RECOVER from limp cabbage EMBARRASSMENT

156 notes - Posted April 2, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

22 ½ hours of Canadian Redditors attempting to draw their own flag on r/place:

Please note that this is juxtaposed with intricate pixel art of the Eiffel Tower, featuring The Little Prince...

See the full post

16,897 notes - Posted April 2, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

4 notes · View notes

pokeasleepingsmaug · 3 years

Text

First Line Tag game

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line. Then tag 10 of your favorite authors.

I tend to begin first sentences with names for some reason haha. My favorite is 18, because it really just sets the tone for that whole story so well!

I was tagged by @aadmelioraa, thank you darling <3 I'll tag @whenimaunicorn @raincityruckus @geekandbooknerd and @darkcloakedinfinitevoid

1. All That's Best of Dark and Bright, a Tam Lin-inspired Sihtric x Eahlswith AU: Eahlswith hates traveling with this rowdy, ragtag company of Danes a little less each day.

2. To Curse a King, a Sihtric x Skade dub-con knife kink crackship that you can't prove didn't happen: Skade does not flinch as the knife pierces the skin at the crook of her elbow, and she does not struggle against the firm hand holding her wrist in place.

3. Silver Hairpins, Sihtric x Eahlswith canon-compliant fluff: Sihtric was always happy to come home flush with victory, but this time he was even happier

4. The Heart of a Family, Sihtric captured and tortured by Kjartan and Sven, because this poor darling is too easy to whump: Sihtric can't remember how long it’s been since he's seen the sun, though he knows when night is because that's when Kjartan and Sven leave him alone.

5. The Weight Behind a Blessing, a one-shot exploring a bit of Sihtric's past and his blossoming bromance with Osferth: Osferth is not the first Christian to bless him for splinting an injured arm, although he is the ugliest, Sihtric thinks, smiling down at Baby Monk after he slips the sling over his head.

6. To Tame a Wildcat, a little bit of Sihtric x reader battlefield kink that I will never apologize for: There is no softness in him now, the son of a man known for his cruelty, a fierce man in his own right.

7. we keep pretending the sun will not rise, a piece that explores the entire relationship of Katy x Reilly x Jonesy, from when they're in high school until when they break up: Katy tries not to smile over her coffee cup at the two boys across the small plastic table, their arms pressed together, Reilly’s damp hair dripping onto his shoulders and Jonesy’s eyes wide and bright.

8. so fill to me the parting glass, Sihtric tries to comfort Beocca when he's mourning Thyra, and Beocca learns maybe the rat-faced Dane isn't so terrible after all: Beocca cannot even stand to look at him, the Dane boy that Uhtred keeps in his company, the son of the man who tormented his wife for years

9. Pulse of my Heart, she has been searching for Finan for years, and doesn't believe she will ever find him: It was a great sword, longer and lighter than most, designed to be wielded by a man who danced around his foes like a whirlwind give human form.

10. Blasphemy, Osferth, wounded and tired of Finan's incessant worrying, asks Sihtric to sing. Sihtric cannot sing: They were on the road somewhere in Mercia, and this was one of those times that Sihtric felt he’d ridden the entire length of this land, from Wessex to Northumbria, a dozen times over

11. To Throw Curses, a piece exploring Sihtric's childhood, that I wrote after wondering why Sihtric knew so much about curses: His mother is a good Christian woman and proud of the fact that she’s managed to maintain her faith despite her hardships, so maybe Sihtric shouldn’t be surprised when she crosses herself and leans forward to repeat the gesture over his body, too.

12. He Lacks the Courage, OC Thora x Ubbe, tons of angst, Bjorn is a jerk, but that's just who he is: The boat rocks to the motion of the small waves and the rowers’ work, the sun paints the sky in luminous pinks and oranges and the waves spark and dance with the color of flames, and usually Thora would love this but tonight it just feels like emptiness

13. To Lie Down With Wolves, Ubbe x OC Imogene, Ubbe is disgraced for betraying King Ivar long ago, and keeps the slave Imogene against his better judgment (co-written with @darkcloakedinfinitevoid!): Imogene hasn't seen a wolf since she was small, the winter the snow reached halfway up the side of her family's cottage.

14. Funeral Pyre, Sihtric returns to Dunholm, a lifetime after he's left it, and finally puts its ghosts to rest: When Sihtric sees Dunholm rearing up on its high crag, bile rises into his throat but he keeps his face impassive because his friends are watching him.

15. Fighting Lessons, Nancy Wheeler x Jonathan Byers x Steve Harrington, Steve teaches his lovers to fight in the Wheelers backyard, because none of them feel safe even though the gate is closed. Post season 1: He’s had this fear in him, ever since the cabin, that someday Nancy would be without her handgun.

16. Counting Breaths, in the dark when she can't sleep after falling into that place, the only thing that keeps Nancy sane is the rhythm of Jonathan's breath: Inhale, one.

17. Slow Hands, modern AU, Ubbe x reader, reader runs a horse sanctuary and Ubbe is her new farrier.: Finding a farrier was always such a pain, and of course as soon as the horses had gotten familiar with John, he'd thrown his back out.

18. Captured, Ivar x shieldmaiden reader hate-fucking, AND THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED: “Do you really think that’s going to work?”

19. First Sight, a companion piece to my longfic Feed You the Sky. Ivar and Kára reminisce on the first time they saw each other: Ivar is an old man now, his black hair streaked with gray, and the fire in his wife’s hair is dulled but still he cannot resist running his fingers through it every chance he gets.

20. Hidden Daggers, Sihtric and Eahlswith meet-cute and first night together, and you can't prove it didn't happen exactly like this: Sihtric was the son of a dead slave girl and he loves being a free man, he loves carrying swords and serving Uhtred and wearing silver arm-rings.

#tag games #fanfic games #the last kingdom #vikings #letterkenny #stranger things

32 notes · View notes

shield-sheafson · 4 years

Link

Chapters: ¼ Fandom: Batman - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Cassandra Cain & Jason Todd, Stephanie Brown & Cassandra Cain, Stephanie Brown & Jason Todd Characters: Jason Todd, Cassandra Cain, Stephanie Brown Additional Tags: Found Family, Fluff, Light Angst, Homelessness, Cass knows like 8 words rip, slight crime, Jason Todd and Cassandra Cain meet earlier, Cassandra Cain and Jason Todd are Siblings, but not blood siblings in this just two kids who adopted each other, street siblings au Summary:

Professional street urchin Jason Todd is struck by an uneasy feeling and suspects someone is following him. That someone is former child assassin Cassandra Cain, who, with nowhere else to go, is taking a leap of faith.

—

This is my take on the Street Siblings AU by @a-sketchy-character! I told them earlier that I’d write something for it, so here I am owning up! Of course, you can read their comic based on this au @streetsiblings. Of course, @greytoiletpaper also wrote one (https://archiveofourown.org/works/27100699/chapters/66175306) and Experimental_Muse wrote this one (https://archiveofourown.org/works/27037882). Go check them out! Since this is such a popular concept, I hope I do a good job.

—

Jason pops another M&M into his mouth, rolling it around on his tongue instead of chewing it. He has no idea why someone would throw away a perfectly good bag of candy, but he’s not going to think too hard about it. Maybe he’s imagining it, but he can feel the strength coming back into his limbs. He feels less sleepy, too.

He tucks the empty bag into the pocket of his frayed jeans, already regretting finishing them. Now that he’s eaten something, what else is he going to do with his day? He hasn’t found any cigarettes, which is a pain, since it’s so cold that his nose feels numb and he could really use some warm smoke to fill up his aching lungs.

Maybe he’ll go to the library. He’s still too small to kick out for loitering, right? Just as he turns to leave the alley, Jason feels a shiver run up his spine. He whips around, raising his fists defensively. Nobody’s there. This doesn’t calm him down. Jason squints as he peers into the dark, wet alley, looking for any sign of movement.

“Hey,” he says in the deepest, roughest voice he can muster. “Think good and hard about what you’re about to do, buddy.”

What is the invisible person about to do? Jason isn’t sure, but he wants them to think good and hard about it. He hears a scuffle and nearly jumps out of his skin only to realize that it’s just a rat migrating from beneath the dumpster to a pile of cardboard boxes.

“What are you playing?” Jason asks. This voice is making his throat hurt. “Is this some kind of joke?”

Nobody answers. Jason weighs his options and decides that the best choice is to make a run for it. He nearly slips on a patch of slush in his haste to get out of the alley. Even when he’s a safe two blocks away he still has an uneasy feeling.

—

A couple of hours later, Jason has shaken off that gross feeling and has settled down outside the 7-11. He used to go here a lot– when his mom was around, it was where they got their groceries. Sometimes she’d splurge and they would split a can of Yoohoo. Even though he doesn’t have any money to go in with, something about the worn bricks and the smoky smell is comforting.

A gaunt man with dark circles under his eyes and a scraggly gray beard joins him, sitting gingerly on the damp ground.

“Afternoon,” he says cordially.

“It’s dark out,” Jason says. He’s not sure what time it actually is. Days and nights tend to blur together. They’re basically the same, though nights tend to be more dangerous.

“Damned if it isn’t,” the man says. “What’s a kid doing out this late?”

“Anywhere else I’m supposed to be?” Jason asks, scowling.

“Just askin’, just askin’,” the man says, raising his palms. “I’d just get somewhere safe if I was you. Some guy’s been– what?”

“What?” Jason repeats after him. “What’s going on?”

“Just thought I… It’s not safe for kids out there lately, is all I’m sayin’.”

Jason sighs and shoves his hands deeper into his pockets, dragging down the edge of his hoodie. “Is it that big a deal?” It’s never really safe out there, but he’s always gotten by fine. “You’re not a kid, so you’re fine.”

“Nothin’ wrong with a little empathy,” the man says.

Jason rolls his eyes and walks off to find another place to lurk.

—

It happens the next day, too. Jason has the unpleasant feeling of eyes on his back when he covertly removes a woman’s wallet from her purse and he’s certain someone is about to yell “Stop! Thief!” but nobody does.

When he walks proudly out of McDonald’s with a bag of french fries bought will ill-gotten money, he expects someone to ask for one. Of course, he would have said “no,” but it’s almost disappointing when there’s nobody to answer. He’s not disappointed enough to be really put-off, though. He still stuffs his face wholeheartedly.

Maybe he’s just being paranoid.

—

Jason has been sleeping rough lately. The condemned buildings are already full of squatters, and he knows better than to accept “help” from people who offer couches to young boys. With nowhere inside to sleep, he’s been hiding from the sleet in a cardboard shelter he built in an out-of-view area between buildings and lined with newspaper.

Of course, it’s not usually safe to build a fire when your whole house is so flammable, but he’s risking it tonight. He has a pile of yet more cardboard and newspaper on the other side of the alley, but it’s damp and he’s having a rough time getting it to set alight.

“Come on,” he mutters as he clicks the lighter yet again. It’s a nice one (his mother had liked it a lot) but it doesn’t seem to be doing the trick. Jason curses under his breath as the edge of the funnies page smolders and blackens without actually catching fire. Garfield stares at him judgmentally. That’s when he hears it.

A light “thump,” soft but unmistakable. Jason’s head snaps up. He’s afraid to turn and look. At best, it’s another bum looking to share his fire. At worst, it’s…

“What are you looking at?” he says harshly, still not turning his head. “Go find somewhere else.”

The presence at his back doesn’t go away. He feels frozen in place– he’ll admit it, he’s afraid. He knows someone has been following him. He doesn’t know who or why. He hasn’t had a moment where it’s not on his mind, and now his mysterious pursuer is right behind him. His only option is to protect himself.

Jason very slowly reaches into his pocket for the worn switchblade he’s carried since he was nine. His hand trembles as he wraps his fingers around the cold handle.

A hand is laid on his shoulder. He shoots up, pulling the knife out of his pocket and spinning around to face the person behind him.

Before he’s able to do anything a small, strong hand wraps around his wrist, stopping the freed knife in its path. His arm is yanked forward and a palm is shoved under his chin, forcing his face up. He just stands that way for a second, too shocked to move. His opponent doesn’t try to do anything else; they just keep him stuck with his chin pushed up and his arm stretched out, knife useless.

Slowly, cautiously, the hand under his chin lowers, though the grip on his wrist is still tight. He gets a good look at the person who’s apparently decided to hold him hostage.

They’re a kid. They’re (she’s) a little girl, much shorter than him, with big, serious eyes and a mouth covered by a heavy scarf.

“You’re really small,” he says through the hand that’s still partly covering his mouth. “What the fuck.”

She assesses him, eyes darting from his face to his free hand to his battered shoes. Slowly, she loosens her grip and lets go of his chin, releasing him. She takes a step back, body tense and ready to attack or dart away at any second.

Jason clicks his blade back into its case and slides the knife back into his pocket, not looking away from the girl’s face. She has dirty black hair that hangs in her eyes and thick brows. Her nose is delicate and rounded. If she hadn’t just had him in a painful hold, he would have assumed she was harmless.

“Why have you been following me around?” he asks. She doesn’t answer. “What do you want from me?” Again, no answer. Jason sighs (a puff of mist from his mouth). “I’m Jason.” He holds out his hand. Hesitantly, she grips it. Her hand is cold and thin. She still doesn’t say anything.

The girl lets go of his hand and points to the lighter on the ground. It glints at him in greeting.

“What?” Jason asks.

The girl squats on the ground and retrieves the lighter. She hands it to him and points at the pile of cardboard and newspaper.

“Wanna make a fire?” he asks. “There’s garbage in there, so it’ll stink.”

She doesn’t nod. She just points again expectantly.

“'Kay,” Jason says. “Can you talk at all?”

The girl doesn’t respond. Jason shrugs and crouches by his fire heap. The girl plops back on her bottom and crosses her legs.

It takes a while to get it to light. It’s a little embarrassing failing again and again with someone there to watch. Finally, one of the dryer pieces of paper goes alight and spreads to one of the bigger pieces of cardboard.

“See? It does work!” Jason says. Does he sound defensive? “It usually works fine,” he adds. This doesn’t make him any less embarrassed. He puts the lighter in his pocket with the switchblade and holds his hands out, taking in the heat. The girl pulls down her scarf. In the flickering light, he can see she’s smiling at him. She holds out her hands too, and they sit in silence for some time.

—

Jason realizes he’s awake before his eyes open. He’s aware again that his nose and fingers are cold and the back of his hair is wet from the damp concrete. His eyes flicker open and he sees that it’s daytime, pale gray and foggy. He rolls over, realizing with some consternation that he’s not even in his box hut. Anybody could have come and gotten him while he was asleep. He’s lucky they didn’t. He shouldn’t be so– what.

Someone is a few feet away from him, sitting up with her arms wrapped tightly around her knees, looking at him thoughtfully.

Jason scrambles backward, scraping his hands on the rough concrete. He bumps his head on the brick wall behind him. It seems that the bricks knock some sense into him because suddenly the events of last night come back to him and he feels like an idiot.

“What are you doing?” he asks, rubbing his head.

The girl scoots over to him and pats his shoulder. Ah. She’s still not talking. Jason sits up straight. He pats her shoulder back. She smiles.

“So, do you just want to hang around here?” Jason asks, even though he knows she won’t answer. “In this alley?”

The girl just looks at him. This is starting to get frustrating.

“Just– just stay, I guess,” Jason says, standing. He points at the ground. “I’ll be back. I’m gonna go get something to eat.”

He backs out of the alleyway, raising his palms as though he’s trying to calm a wild animal. He turns around when he’s certain that she’s staying. He puts his hands in his pockets and releases a breath of relief. Something about that girl makes him nervous. What’s her game? Is she just stupid? He wraps his fingers around the lighter and somehow feels a little more secure.

Jason settles outside a coffee shop and crosses his legs. Dozens of people walk right past him, ignoring his grubby face as they head to work.

“Hey, miss,” Jason says, making eye contact with a woman in a blue pantsuit. An almost fearful look falls on her face as she realizes she’s been wrangled into an interaction with him. “Got a dollar?”

“I’m sorry,” she says quickly. “I don’t carry change.” She scurries off, nearly slipping in her high heels on the icy sidewalk.

“'Scuse me,” Jason says to the lady with the corgi on a leash. “That’s a cute dog you have there.”

“Thank you,” the lady says apprehensively. She walks a little faster.

“Wait!” Jason says. “Can I pet him?”

“S-sure,” the lady says. She turns and walks the dog up to Jason. It smiles stupidly at him. Jason stretches his hand out and it sniffs him with its wet nose. Jason rubs it between the ears. Even though this is for selfish reasons, he appreciates its attention.

“Can you spare seventy cents?” Jason asks. “For a bottle of water?”

The lady, with nowhere to escape to, reaches into her purse, takes out a dollar, and drops it into Jason’s open hand. Jason thanks her sweetly. When she walks away, he can’t hide his shit-eating grin.

Jason manages to gather up seven dollars before the coffee shop’s manager comes out and says “scram.” Jason smiles appeasingly as he leaves. He knows better than to get in a fight with someone without holes in their shoes.

At the convenience store, Jason buys an energy drink and a hot dog, like usual. Then he remembers someone is waiting for him and adds a plastic-wrapped breakfast sandwich. He’s wondering whether the stupid girl is a coffee person when the cashier starts giving him suspicious looks, so he grabs another Red Bull and pays quickly.

It’s kind of nice shopping for someone else. Even if it’s a little sad to think about the last time he was shopping for two. He whistles quietly as he walks through the glass door when– oops.

“Watch where you’re going!” he snaps.

The girl steps back and smiles apologetically.

“Oh… It’s you.” The door swings shut behind Jason. “I’d ask you to stop following me, but I don’t think you understand what I’m saying.”

The girl tilts her head. Maybe she does understand? Whatever.

He gestures for her to follow him. The convenience store people don’t like it when he hangs out right by the door. It creeps out the customers.

There aren’t as many people on the sidewalk anymore; they’ve all gone on with their days. Jason notices that the girl skips a little on her shorter legs to keep up with him. She isn’t wearing socks, he realizes. That can’t be good in this weather.

They stop to sit on the front steps of the law office. Jason pulls the food out of his plastic grocery bag and hands the sandwich to the girl. She takes it gratefully. He takes out his hot dog and realizes that the jostling while he was walking has deconstructed it. He shrugs.

“I’m guessing you’re new around here,” Jason says. “You’re not supposed to just latch on to people.”

The girl starts tearing greedily into her sandwich.

“I do pretty well on my own. I’m not gonna babysit you, you know.”

She nods. Again, Jason isn’t sure she’s taking in what he’s saying.

“Seriously. You can’t hang out with me. I’m busy.”

She smiles. Jason rolls his eyes.

“I like being alone.”

The sandwich is gone. She points to his hot dog.

“I mean, I guess,” he says, handing it to her. She looks at it for a second. A guilty expression falls on her face and she hands it back. “I don’t even know your name.”

“Cassandra,” she says.

“Wait, you can talk?”

“Jason,” she says, patting his shoulder.

The snow is dirty, but the sun glints off it prettily. Jason hates to admit it, but he’s in a pretty good mood right now.

#batman #dcu #jason todd #cassandra cain #street siblings au #dc #me writing

104 notes · View notes

hisfavoritewolf · 3 years

Text

Who Could Win A Rabbit

Based on this post bc I never thought to write about that in-between! Thank you @loquaciousquark for the inspiration <3

No warnings, only fluff here!~ Only under a cut bc it got long!

Fenris held his breath as he slipped silently into the barn. Not even the animals stirred at his entrance, and he was grateful for it. Now, if only he could stop shivering. The storm was still raging outside, enough that he was surprised the animals weren’t awake with alarm. Perhaps they were used to it.

He found the darkest uninhabited corner in the barn and carefully removed his sheathe. He didn’t dare place it out of reach, instead opting to lay it across his lap. He doubted he’d truly sleep, but he could close his eyes... At least for a little while.

One particularly close flash of lightning sent a jolt through him, and panic rushed to meet him as several of the mules began their braying. Of course. Had his luck always been so rotten? Would it continue to be for as long as he’d live?

He pressed himself further back into the corner as he heard footsteps- even through the noise of the rain and thunder. He’d certainly be caught and likely chased off of the property. If only he could explain that he wasn’t a horse thief. Did this barn even have horses? He didn’t see any stables...

A voice rang out through the barn. “It’s alright, I’m here! Lucky- calm down, will you?”

Fenris caught a glimpse of glowstone and cringed, but his grip on the hilt of his blade faltered. They sounded so young. He’d rather not scare them, his intent was not to harm or intimidate. Still, he could hear them getting closer.

“Is something else wrong..? Thunder don’t usually get you this bad...” They murmured to their friend, and turned to see the second problem of their night. An elf huddled in a corner with a rather large blade in hand.

The moment they locked eyes, everything seemed to stop. He felt his heart drop. He was freezing, since he was lacking any cloak to shield him from the rain, and he was exhausted. Still, he forced himself to stand. He did not brandish his sword, he didn’t look them in the eyes. He simply cleared his throat.

“I apologize... I should not have-”

“What kind of moron doesn’t have a cloak?” They interject, looking more confused than anything.

“What?”

They pointed to him in his entirety. “Yer not wearin’ nothin that could help you out there. Aren’t you freezing?”

When he didn’t answer, their confusion only grew. “Stay here, I’ll be right back. Oh, and don’t mind Lucky, he’s a bit prissy.”

Before he could try to stop them, they had left. He looked to the mule as if it could answer the questions beginning to pile up in his head. Why weren’t they angry? Being caught in a barn had happened before, but this person didn’t seem alarmed at all.

It didn’t seem long at all before the stranger was back, and carrying a few items. A large blanket, slightly damp from running in the rain, and a bowl. This night was getting more perplexing by the minute, it seemed. They huffed out a labored breath and made their way across the barn. He stepped back into his corner, eyes wide and full of confusion.

“It’s just soup, dummy.”

He stared.

“Well, a blanket, too, but soup!” They grin, sitting down and holding out the items. He sat back down as well, setting his weapon to the side without thinking much about it. Too distracted. He just kept staring at the kind offerings.

“Are you certain..?” He finally said.

“What? About the soup? Well, it probably isn’t very good, but it’s something to eat, yeah?” They push the soup across the dusty floor, still smiling.

He looked between the stranger and the offering before gently taking the blanket and wrapping it around himself. He still wasn’t too certain about the soup. That seemed to strike his host.

“So.. Uh... I’m Rowan. This is me mum’s farm. You’re definitely not from here.”

He shook his head, finally deciding to take the soup. When was the last time he’d eaten..?

Rowan cleared their throat. “Where, uh... where are you from?”

“... Far.”

“... Alright. Where are you headed?”

“Farther.”

Rowan huffed, crossing their arms. “Well, gee, you’re cheery...” They look him over, curiosity glimmering in their eyes like the glowlamp beside them. It’s likely they’ve never seen anything quite like him before. Some part of him can’t blame them, but it’s still uncomfortable.

“Do you... Have a name?” It would be an odd question if he didn’t know so many slaves without them.

“Fenris.” He muttered between sips of his soup.

“Like a wolf?”

He frowned, set the soup down, and drew the blanket closer. “Yes.”

They chuckled. “That’s funny, actually!”

That’s new. “Why?”

“Well, mum said we’d be needing to find someone to hunt some wolves nearby. I told her it wouldn’t be a problem, but here you are! A wolf right in our barn!” They laughed, and Fenris’ confusion only grew.

“It is... Just a name,” He muttered. “I am no wolf.”

Rowan blinked. “Wow, you’re a very serious man.”

Silence fell. Fenris was used to being watched, but it felt so much different now that he was free. Not to mention, being watched while you’re eating was a different feeling altogether. It felt so vulnerable.

“Hey, I have an idea!” That made him jump. “You’ve got that big sword, why don’t you hunt those wolves? My mum could pay you, and then you’d have enough coin to buy yourself a cloak! And maybe a place to stay the night that isn’t an old barn.”

That was an interesting idea. Could he? As far as his abilities went, he was certain he could hunt wolves. Not a particularly fun way to spend a day, but if it would get him some coin...

“May I... Think about it?”

“‘May you’? Well, yeah, You don’t have to if you don’t want to... It was just an idea.” Rowan tilted their head, surveying him further. All he wanted was for them to stop staring, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it. They were only curious, right?

“I, uh... I guess I’ll let you rest, and I’ll check in with you in the morning? And if yer not here, then...” They shrug, standing up and dusting off their cloak. He could already hear the storm dimming outside. “Well, then it was nice to meet you, Ser!”

They left in a hurry. Maybe he was making them just as uncomfortable. He couldn’t blame them. He likely looked like an assassin, perhaps even a wild animal trapped in a cage. Still...

Ser.

That was the first time anyone had said anything like that to him, to his memory. He spent the remainder of his night pondering that, among plenty of other things, until he finished his soup and the exhaustion finally overcame him.

Fenris awoke with a start as the barn doors opened and streaks of morning light swept through the room. It was Rowan again, but they weren’t alone. He staggered to his feet, nearly knocking over the empty bowl, and almost drew his dagger. He decided instead to draw the blanket tighter around him.

A tall woman carrying a pail stood next to the young child, squinting suspiciously at him. He tried to stand tall, but felt absolutely dwarfed in her presence. There was no further back for him to step as she approached.

“I hear you met little Rowan last night, that they told you ‘bout our wolf issue...?”

He nodded shortly. She hummed, looking down to Rowan at her side, then she sighed. “One of these days you’re going to get yourself into trouble, going and doing things like that.”

“He was shivering!” Rowan protested. The woman just laughed and patted their head.

“Yeah, yeah,” She looked back to Fenris. “So? Can you do it?”

He blinked, looking between the two. He’d thought about it for some time, but didn’t recall ever coming to a conclusion. Now, faced with the question again, he’s at least a little quicker with his response.

“Yes I can,” He nodded, locking eyes with the woman. “I would like to repay your kindness.” He glanced to Rowan, who grinned.

“Good,” The woman nodded. “Though I’ll be paying you in more than simply kindness. You can have the furs and what coin I can spare. Sound like a fair deal?”

Fenris doubted he’d find a better one. It seemed far more than generous. He nodded. “Yes, just tell me where they are and I will take care of them.”

“I think that’s the longest sentence you’ve said!” Rowan chimed in, laughing.

“Not a man of many words? Just as well, means you’ve got focus. I’m pretty sure the wolves have been coming from the south, not far from the border of the farm.”

As she spoke, Fenris shrugged the blanket off his shoulders and slung his weapon across his back once more. He adjusted to the weight of it, taking deep breaths and a moment to focus. The mother seemed surprised.

“Well, now you look like someone who can take on a pack of wolves! Maker, you looked like a drowned rat before. I was worried Rowan was pulling a prank or somethin’!” She laughed. “Well, if that’s not the case, let me introduce myself. The name’s Ori.”

She extended a hand and Fenris jumped, causing a moment of pause between all three in the room. After a moment further of hesitation, he reached out and took her hand with a firm grip. He tried not to make his cringing seem too obvious.

“My name is Fenris.”

“A wolf who hunts wolves, so you really weren’t kidding around.” She nudged Rowan with her elbow and let her hand fall back to rest on her hip. “Good luck, Fenris. Try not to die. There should only be three of them. If you can carry them all to the farmhouse when you’re done, it’d be appreciated.”

As simple as that, they started off on their own tasks. Fenris knew what he was meant to do, and he was going to do it for himself.

—

Killing the wolves was easy. Killing was something he was good at. He was strong enough to haul all three back to the farmhouse, as well. Ori idly explained that she’d be selling the meat to the butcher, and that he could sell the fur to the tailor after cleaning it.

“I’m impressed, really. A skinny little elf turns up in my barn in the middle of a storm just as I’d intended to hire a hunter? Sounds like the Maker blessed us both.” She smiled, a genuine softness about her despite the fact that she was elbows-deep in the guts of a dead wolf.

As Fenris was sipping from the cup of water she’d given him, she stopped. The look on her face grew solemn, and she glanced up at him.

“You were a slave, weren’t you?” It wasn’t a question. It took him a moment to respond.

“Yes. I am not anymore.”

“Good,” She grunted. “Slavers are a disgusting lot. Glad you could be rid of them. But I’ll bet you they’ll be lookin’ for ya. Am I right?”

He nodded, though he didn’t feel ashamed. He felt something stronger than shame. Perhaps anger. Rage at the life they had stolen from him, from all the horrible time spent serving his master’s whims.

“Well, then, I truly hope you can find some peace.” Ori sighed, wiping her brow on the sleeve of her shirt.

Fenris took a breath and finished what was left of the water, then set the cup down nearby. The deed of skinning and gutting the animals didn’t take much longer than expected, and they spoke no more during that time. He felt there was nothing more to say, and he was grateful she didn’t decide to pry.

“Andraste guide you, Fenris,” Ori said as he left. “It’s the least anyone could do for you.”

The walk to town wasn’t terribly far, though he felt he was lucky that the tailor’s shop had a sign with an image etched onto it along with the writing. The exchange of words and coin was short, but he felt as though a weight was finally lifted off of him as he left. Everything was different.

He walked to the inn with a new sense of pride, bought himself a fresh meal from the kitchen —rabbit stew—, and a room to sleep in that night. It was all such a strange rush of emotion, one he doubted he’d ever get used to. Even if it was by pure luck he found that farm, the rest was his doing. He could have run, but he didn’t.

For the first time in his life, he'd done something for himself. He earned his own coin, his own food. No quietly sneaking through, stealing what he needed. No guilt, no shame. Only honest coin for honest work. His work.

Perhaps he should be thankful for that storm.

#Tales Spun ; One Shot

8 notes · View notes

bush-viper-cutie · 3 years

Text

“Everything Goes Wrong” || YEAR 3 – Ch.39 (HP au)

Chapter List

<-- Last Chapter Next Chapter -->

Day posted: 2/2/2021

Word count: 3,346

Relationship: EVENTUAL severus X oc (slow burn)

Rating: E for everyone

Warnings: none

-----

A/N: This is my first fan fic I’m writing mainly as a way to practice. This is a retelling of the hp books with an inserted character. Although most every character will be written about, this is mostly for the pro snape fandom. Please do not fear, although this is a severus x oc story, it is an incredibly slow burn as I do not intend for them to get together at all until after the final book events. Chapters will be posted twice a week.

This derivative work follows the events of the Harry Potter books by Jk Rowling and is intended as a fun way to practice my writing. Thank you for reading :D

-----

~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~

The tunnel was much larger than Heather remembered it being. Under her wand’s soft light, it seemed more open and less constricting. On her way through the first time, it felt like the walls could cave in at any moment, crushing them before the Grim or Sirius Black could get a chance. Now it felt like the tunnel was experiencing one long, full breath as wind came in through the Whomping Willow’s opening far ahead.

Heather breathed in just as deeply, opening up her lungs and filling them as much as possible like she was taking in her very first breath. It smelled damp and the dusty mud the others kicked up pricked at her lungs but the knowledge that everything was now under control was enough to soothe the stings.

Heather looked on ahead at the strange, tall man in front of her, still holding Snape up like a doll on strings by Snape’s own wand. By the way Snape’s head bumped on the rough ceiling of the cave, Sirius seemed more focused on the path ahead, eyes trained on glimmer of light just beyond. Sirius’ long curls caught on branching roots but he paid the constant tugging no mind. Did this feel like a second prison break for him? With Peter Pettigrew, he would become a freer man than when he broke out of Azkaban.

Heather winced at the fifth bump to Snape’s head. “I don’t think he’ll forget I blasted him against the wall with so many scrapes and bruises to his head,” she whispered.

Sirius turned to her. “He’ll have more to worry about when he wakes up than you and Harry’s attack on him.” He flicked his wrist down and the toes of Snape’s shoes began dragging along the floor, kicking up more dust but saving his forehead from future scrapes. “He won’t very pleased to see only Peter taken away in chains… and less so to see me freed and reunited with my old pal.”

There was more color to Sirius’ face now, making him look only a bit less grim and skeletal than minutes before.

Sirius cleared his throat. “Do you two know what all this means?”

“Yes. You’re free,” Harry declared from the back. “They won’t be sending you back to Azkaban ever again.”

“Yes…” Sirius kept looking onward but his free hand fidgeted at his side, pulling on the tattered holes of his grey-striped shirt. “Yes, but… Well… You know I’m – Your parents made me your Godfather… to the both of you – I don’t know if anyone ever mentioned it.”

“We overheard it,” Heather admitted. She looked back at Harry who was looking up at Sirius intently. The light of their wands reflected of his scratched glasses and although she couldn’t see his eyes, she could guess she’d find a spark of excitement in them.

“That would make me your appointed guardian,” Sirius continued more stiffly. “That was, if anything happened to them…”

Heather gripped her sweater, feeling her hands begin to shake.

“Of course you both have full say in where your home is – I wouldn’t wish to take you from your aunt and uncle… And… Well… See, once my name is cleared – should you ever want a different home – if you wanted…”

“Are you suggesting we live with you?” Harry stepped on Heather’s heal – she hadn’t realized she had slowed down her pace. “Leave the Dursleys?”

Sirius shook his head and coughed. “No – No, of course I thought you wouldn’t want to – ” he said quickly. “I understand, I just thought you two would want to know you have a choice should you – ”

“Are you insane?” Harry’s smile could be heard through his croaky voice. “Of course we want to leave the Dursleys! Right, Heather?”

“Oh,” Heather nodded. “Yeah.”

“Have you got a house? When can we move in? How many room’s it got? Oh – !”

Heather elbowed Harry in the ribs to push him off her. In his excitement he’d almost begun to climb over her to get to Sirius, as if his proximity would get him answers faster.

Sirius whirled around – Snape’s body instantly began drifting up again – and smiled ear to ear at them. Heather could see why his animagus was a dog. If he’d had a tail he’d be wagging it faster than bee’s wings.

“You really want to? The both of you?” Sirius beamed down at them. “Mean it? Really?

“Yeah, we mean it!” Harry shook Heather’s shoulder. “Heather?”

She nodded and smiled up at Sirius. “We mean it.” Harry beamed at her confirmation as brightly as Sirius and she felt wholly engulfed in their collective eagerness.

Heather pushed Harry’s hand off her shoulder. She looked up at Sirius’ gaunt face and tried to envision that she might one day find it familiar and friendly. He turned back around and at her reminder and lowered Snape’s body back down. Their conversation had only left his forehead a little scratched.

The grunting up ahead had brought the three of them back down to earth. They were only just getting Peter up out of the hole. It took Hermione a few minutes to direct Professor Lupin and Ron on how to maneuver themselves and a few longer to help Sirius get Snape out of the hole in one piece. Heather crawled out, heaving her body onto the grass, and extended her hand down for Harry to take. His hand squeezed hers and she pulled him up fast.

“Can you believe it?” he whispered to her as they stood and shook off dust.

Heather brushed off her shoulders and watched Sirius take in the grand castle up the sloping grounds. They were so far away it almost looked like it was on an entirely different mountain, resting on the edge of a small cliff above the glittering lake.

“Everything will be different now,” she whispered.

Harry squeezed her arm. “Different good.”

She nodded and looked down at the lake. There were lights dancing on its surface. She could almost count all the Hogwarts windows reflecting off the water. ‘Different good.’ …At least Hogwarts seemed to always remain the same.

“Let’s get going.” Professor Lupin called down to them, already moving up the hill. “And one wrong move Peter…”

“I’ll drop the snake and aim for your head,” Sirius threatened.

Hermione, Harry, and Heather brightened their wands and illuminated the path for the others as they walked on silently. The castle lights slowly grew larger and very curiously, less bright. Heather looked down at the lake, almost obscured by the growing forest, and caught sight of a large white moon reflecting clearer and clearer as they walked.

Through the light wind she heard a grunt and stopped, shining her light on the abrupt jam of their party. Sirius had bumped into Snape’s body, which had knocked into Ron who had bumped into Peter who was pressed up and quaking against a very still Professor Lupin.

Sirius looked down at the ground, at their growing shadows, as the moon bathed them in light. He froze and stuck out an arm, signaling them back to him.

Heather kept her eyes on Professor Lupin’s rigid body as his limbs began to tremble one by one. “It’s a full moon…”

Hermione gasped. “He didn’t take his potion! He’s not safe!”

“Run,” Sirius hissed. “Run! Now!”

Heather turned and stopped, whipping back around to Ron. “Ron…”

He was bent down awkwardly, desperately pulling at the chain around his ankle. Harry dashed forward to help him but Sirius pulled him back, dropping Snape.

“Go! Leave it to me! RUN!”

Heather hesitated with Harry and Hermione, still unsure if it was safe to leave Ron and run away. A sickening snarling noise broke the air. Heather’s eyes flickered over Professor Lupin, or what was left of him not yet morphed into a monstrous figure. His head lengthened out into a long snout with jagged teeth and a slobbering tongue. His shoulders hunched and jutted out inhumanly. Rough hair sprouted out along his face, hands, and neck. His shoes shredded in two and rolled down the hill, as if running from the enormous claws that had split them apart. With a single snap of his long jaws, the werewolf wrenched itself free of the shackles that held on to his wrist and ankle.

A large black streak dashed across Heather’s vision. The blur lunged for the werewolf’s neck and pulled it backwards, away from Peter and Ron. The giant bear-dog held its ground as the werewolf broke free and turned, growling deep. In an instant they were locked, jaw to jaw, claws tearing into shoulders and pulling fur by the clump.

Heather snapped her gaze away from the violent battle and looked around at Harry and Hermione. Both as transfixed as she had been. Ron had stopped pulling on his chains, instead pressing himself to the ground in an attempt to melt away among the grass, and Peter –

“NO!” Heather screamed.

Peter pulled Professor Lupin’s wand up from where it had dropped and aimed its tip at his head.

Harry rushed forward. “Expelliarmus!”

The wand in Peter’s hands flew out into the shrubbery behind. Heather’s breath caught and the scenery almost melted away. The sudden snaps of powerful jaws quieted, the grass seized to sway, and the moonlight brightened around Peter. For a second it felt like Harry had done it. Harry had prevented a horrible disaster.

But Peter grinned at them and Heather’s heart sank. In a blink of an eye, the little man shrunk and transfigured into a large rat with patchy fur and bent whiskers.

Crookshanks – who had taken refuge behind a rock at first sign or Professor Lupin’s condition – now jumped out from the shadows and chased after the bald tail poking out from the shifting grass as Scabbers scurried downhill and away.

Heather clutched her throat and tried to breath in. ‘The Servant Will Break Free And Set Out To Rejoin His Master. The Dark Lord Will Rise Again With His Servant’s Aid, Greater And More Terrible Than Ever Before,’ Trelawney’s raspy voice echoed in her mind over and over in overlapping waves. The prophecy will come true! “No, no, no.”

“He’s gotten away! Sirius needs him!” Harry turned back to the beastly fight happening feet away.

A shrieking wolf howl ripped through the air and before they could dive for the ground next to Ron, the werewolf leapt over them and ran into the forest at full force. The giant dog limped after the wolf, staggering off his intended path more and more with each pained step, padding out of sight.

Hermione dashed for Ron who was still on the ground, arms covering his head protectively.

“Is it gone? Please tell me it’s all miraculously over.” He looked up at Hermione who could only look on to Heather and Harry to answer the question.

Snape was still crumpled on the ground, Sirius was gone, Professor Lupin was gone, and Peter Pettigrew was gone.

“We – We need to get to the castle. We take Ron to Madam Pomfrey and tell Professor Dumbledore Snape’s out here and – ”

“And that Sirius is innocent?” Harry interrupted her. “We have no proof. None at all. And if those dementors find him…” he trailed off.

Heather gulped. He was only a few steps away from her. She took a step towards him and he backed away, already pulling his hand farther out of her reach.

“Harry…” Heather warned.

A wounded whine carried softly through the wind and Harry was off, running down the moonlit grounds into the shadowed forest near the lake’s edge.

She took a step, intending to speed off after to him when she saw Hermione point out of the corner of her eye. She turned and saw Snape reaching for the back of his head with a weak hand, but that wasn’t what Hermione was pointing at.

“Dementors!” Hermione took out her wand but did not know which shadowy figure to aim for.

It looked like dozens of unnatural clouds of blackness were blowing in against the wind. The whispy shadows floated in groups across the sky in the same direction as Professor Lupin, Sirius, and Harry, cutting the moonlight beams like nightmare-ish blades as they went.

Heather shivered and fell to her knees, wincing as a cold wave washed over her. Guilt prickled her chest and traveled through her arms, numbing her. She’d let Peter get away. If she had told Harry they could have taken higher precautions. She should have used Expelliarmus on Snape. He could have been restrained and listened to it all. So many things could have prevented Harry from leaving her, running off and facing a werewolf and dementors alone… Heather shook her head, refusing to let her brain dig into her fears. “Think happy… Happy thoughts…” There wasn’t anything happy she could grasp onto. Not a single cheerful event, joyous occasion, or delightful day came to mind. It was all so horrible, painful, and lonely… and cold.

Slowly the image of a large castle pushed through fog, with torches glowing in every window and flames undisturbed by the sweeping wind. A vast lake that reflected every window only disturbed by the ripples from the giant tentacles greeting dozens of small boats. The rush of excitement upon first seeing Hogwarts filled her blood and she sucked in a fresh breath of chilly air.

She looked up and saw the last of the cloaked figures duck below the tree lines. Hermione lay next to Ron and they both looked deeply asleep. Snape got to his feet quickly and looked her way, giving her a cold glare, and turned his attentions to Hermione and Ron.

Heather breathed in again and stood, wiping her grassy hands on her skirt and looked towards the edge of the forest. Harry was in trouble. She hugged and arm around herself and held in a sob, pulling her wand out.

“Don’t even think about it.” Snape growled.

“But Harry – ”

“Take them back to the castle!” Snape pushed her back and ran down the hill. His cloak billowed in the wind making him look like a dementor flying low across the grounds.

“But how am I to – ” Heather cut herself off and gaped at the two stretchers floating at chest-height.

Hermione and Ron each lay on one and when she pushed Hermione’s, Ron’s moved in parallel. She turned back in search of Snape but the wind was already stitching the clouds back together to cover the moon. She had to trust Snape would save him… Professor Snape. If she was trusting him with Harry’s life… and he was risking his own life to save him… he at least deserved that bit of respect from her again.

She turned to her friends and pushed the stretchers up the darkening lawn until she reached the entrance steps. She hesitated with the first step, not sure if she kept pushing it would only ram the stretchers straight into the fifth step, but after a hesitant push she realized the stretchers knew what to do and raised themselves accordingly.

She pushed on the doors and found they opened with easy, left unlocked by Professor Snape from when he rushed out after Professor Lupin.

“Out of bed! Students out of bed!” Mr. Filch screeched from down the entrance hall, waving a finger as he jogged down.

Heather sprinted to the entrance hall stairs yelling back, “Don’t lock the door! There’s more coming!” Shocking Mr. Filch to a halt.

She took the stretchers up to the hospital wing and pounded on the door, wishing Madam Pomfrey would hurry up and take Hermione and Ron so she could run back down to help Professor Snape with Harry… If he’d saved him… She shook her head. “Of course he did.”

“Five more minutes…” Hermione muttered.

“Hermione!” Heather stopped her pounding and shook her awake.

“Miss Potter!”

Heather jumped as Madam Pomfrey flung the door open and scolded her.

“It’s nearly midnight and – Oh my! Bring them in – bring them in.”

Hermione rolled off her stretcher and looked around as Heather took Ron’s stretcher to the farthest bed.

“What happened?” Hermione still looked weary-eyed.

“My question precisely.” Madam Pomfrey’s accusing eyes bore into her, having more than enough reasons to believe it was one of their faults.

“I remember dementors.” Hermione lifted her hand to her mouth. “Oh and I suppose Ron’s leg is also broken from a bite wound.” She rubbed her eyes and stumbled as they followed Ron’s stretcher to a bed.

Madam Pomfrey only rolled her eyes and got to work on Ron. “There’s chocolate in the cupboard if you need it,” she said over her shoulder.

Heather motioned Hermione to sit and opened the cupboard. She scanned shelf after shelf until she spotted brown little chips filled to brim in a lidded jar. She took a handful and walked back to Hermione, pouring them into her hand. She jerked her head and motioned for the chairs against the opposite wall under the large windows. Hermione followed.

“Where’s Harry? He left and… and I don’t remember much after that.”

Heather nodded grimly. “Professor Snape went after him… Hermione I need to tell you – I don’t know why I didn’t before – I should have told you guys but so much happened suddenly and I wasn’t sure how seriously to take it and – ”

Hermione gripped Heather’s shoulder, calming her. “What is it? Just tell me.”

Heather calmed herself with a slow breath out. “I thought it was Sirius Black going back to Voldemort tonight. But it’s really Peter Pettigrew that’s going back.”

“What do you mean?”

“Professor Trelawney – when we were getting the cloak – I bumped into her and she – ” Heather shook her head as Hermione’s eyebrow shot up. “No, I know. Professor Lupin also thought – ”

“Harry finished him, twice if you count his journal. He’s dead three times over. You heard Peter Pettigrew and Sirius Black and Professor Lupin in the shack. Peter Pettigrew is a coward. He probably ran off to hid in the forbidden forest and Professor Dumbledore will do something about him if he needs to when we explain it all to him.”

“I suppose… I mean there isn’t anything to do now other than tell Professor Dumbledore everything so he can free Sirius and hopefully forgive Professor Lupin.” Heather knelt on the chair and stared out at the darkness below. The moon was well hidden now and nothing could be seen.

Heather and Hermione both jumped when the doors to the hospital wing flew open and Professor Snape sauntered in with an unconscious Harry floating on a stretcher. Heather ducked quickly behind a bed, not wanting to remind him of her existence. If there was a chance he’d forgotten she’d attacked him only a couple hours ago, then she’d gladly hide from him for the rest of the year until the start of next term. Hopefully summer holidays for adults and school events did the same as for students and learned topics.

“Take Mr. Potter here. He’ll need all the chocolate you have.” Professor Snape pushed the stretcher into Madam Pomfrey’s hands and turned on his heel, ready to leave.

“The dementors – why have they attacked the students? They’re not in the castle are they? Surely the Headmaster – ”

“I’m sure Miss Granger can explain to you enough so that you may imagine what has happened tonight. I, however, must speak to the Headmaster and the Minister before he departs.” Professor Snape’s eyes flashed with eager excitement as he walked out the doors, closing them shut with an echoing thump.

Heather wondered if it was only Harry that he found. She hoped it was, and that Sirius had somehow escaped to his hiding place once more. ‘We won’t need to go that far… All I have to do is call the dementors once we get out of the Willow. They’ll be so pleased.’ Professor Snape’s words rang in her head turning his silky tone into a cruel grain.

~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~

Chapter List

<-- Last chapter Next chapter -->

-----

@lokilover-39

@halcyonrogers

@krazykatkay456

@lady-of-black-roses

@writingmi

@joscelyn02

@marvelschriss

@justanotherfangirlsblog

-----

#harry potter #heather potter #pro snape #severus snape x oc #severus x oc #snape x oc #severus snape x reader #severus x reader #snape x reader #snape fanfic #snape fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #snape fan fiction #fan fiction

22 notes · View notes

conaionaru · 4 years

Text

Honor and Blood (Ivar the Boneless)

Beginnings and endings

Synopsis: The naming ceremony and Silas’s punishment

Warnings: Murder, angst, fluff, gore

Tags:

@youbloodymadgenius @xbellaxcarolinax @didiintheblog @lol-haha-joke @shannygoatgruff @heavenly1927 @chynagirl13 @queenbeeta @thereareendlessopportunities @astridbaby

I don’t own the gifs. Also, thank you for your support. I really appreciate it. If you want to be tagged please write me<3

Vanya sat in the Great Hall next to Ivar in a new white dress, her hair loose around her shoulders. She observed the marks on the table, trailing her fingers over them. Everyone around her talked, too, focused on their plans of Silas's punishment to even notice her despair.

The man from her dreams, Hoenir, sat on her right, while Ivar sat on her left. Brynja and Margrethe run around their table, serving their meal. It has been two days since Vanya returned home. She got some deserved rest, but her mind was plagued with her worries.

They wouldn't let her see her son; sometimes, when everything grew quiet, she could hear him cry. It tore at her heart, but according to the healers, she was in no state to be near a newborn. During her time on the run, she caught a cold, her fever was high, and she felt like throwing up after every meal.

Listening to the Ragnarsson, Aslaug, Floki, and Helga argue about what to do with Silas wasn't what she yearned to do. "Are you alright, Vanya?" Brynja questioned her a soft hand on her shoulder, steadying the swaying princess. Vanya nodded tiredly and leaned against Ivar's shoulder.

The Viking entwined their hands together and kissed her damp temple.

He asked her to stay in bed, but Vanya knew she had to be there, no matter how much she hated it. She sentenced Silas to death; it's her duty to help choose the way he will die. "Let's burn him alive," Hvitserk suggested once again, causing his brothers to roll their eyes.

"Slit his throat, that's what he wanted to happen to Vanya." Sigurd countered, but the others disagreed again.

"Too kind, it must be more painful and drawn out." Ivar reminded them, his left hand in a tight fist while his right one squeezed Vanya's hand tighter, to remember that she is here.

Floki raised his cup and giggled in the mad way he always does. "Skin him alive." He offered but was shot down as well. Everyone kept suggesting different methods of execution, all rejected one by one. It was getting tiring for Vanya, draining her of the last bits of strength she regained.

"Maybe you should lay down, Vanya. You don't look so good." Ubbe softly told her, looking at her with tender eyes. She looked broken, her left hand wrapped in bandages to cover her cut. There was also a bandage on the cauterized wound on her shoulder. It would scar, which she didn't care about. Ivar was right; it was a sign of survival, a proof of her strength.

She shook her head and straightened in her seat to look healthier than she felt. "I can't sleep or rest anymore. I need to be here so Silas can be dealt with. He needs to die a painful death, I promised him that, and that's what will happen. No arrows or drowning or hanging. My brother needs to suffer as I suffered; at least I am sparing him the pain of not knowing if you will survive." She spat angrily, slumping back in her chair, exhausted. How pathetic was she? She couldn't even talk without getting tired.

She sighed and moved to stand up, Hoenir rising as well. The silent stranger followed her around like a shadow. He sat in front of her hut with his sword drawn, only letting family and Brynja in. The servant found his mysteriousness and silence charming, Vanya found it eerie. She yearned for human contact, not a silent wall lurking around. Ivar spent every waking moment by her side as well, always checking on her and touching her in some way. More for his sanity than her's.

He didn't check on their son either, too afraid to leave her alone. Vanya was thankful for his protectiveness; she missed it. But she yearned for her son as well, what if he was sick as well?

Vanya made her way towards their chambers and laid down to sleep with Ivar by her side, wrapped around her like a vice, but still somehow comforting. She could feel his chest fall and rise against her back, but sleep wouldn't take her. Her eyes were wide open, and her heartbeat frantically, on guard despite being safe. Nightmares plagued her rest nearly every night, dreams of drowning, freezing, or waking up to her son's corpse in her arms.

Everyone treated her like a broken toy, too scarred by what happened to her to be whole again. In the end, Silas had won. Nine months ago, he sent her here to wither and die. And now she looks half dead and feels hollow. With a shuttering breath, Vanya slowly crawled out of Ivar's arms and into the street, walking past Hoenir, who slept by the door. She shook him awake and made him follow her to the hut where Silas is held.

"Are you sure you want to see him?" The Silent wandered questioned her, but the ginger only nodded and ordered the guards to let her in.

The hut was lit with candles and smelled of wine and piss. Two aromas that Silas always despised, how fitting that it would be the last things he would know. "She lives." A voice rasped from a corner startling her.

With some difficulty and grunts, Silas rose from his hiding place behind the bed. He looked just as bad as her. Two days in a cell, and he was filthy, drunk, and pathetic. It suited him, pain, and despair. "You look terrible."

He chuckled and collapsed back into a chair, the furniture nearly topping over from the force. "I always imagined myself immortal. Forever alive and in people's minds. And here I am. Covered in piss, looking like some kitchen rat." He spat on the ground glaring at everything around him.

Vanya took his sorry state in, tucking it into the back of her mind to remember him by. Not the cruel King with a crown on his head, but as nothing better than a beggar with one foot in the grave. "You are human, just like everyone else. Everyone dies, Silas. Even Kings."

Silas scoffs and hurls his cup towards her, the guards and Hoenir barge in but stand back when Vanya raises a hand, palm facing Silas. "It's alright. Please leave." The three men leave brother and sister alone to talk. One last conversation before Silas pays for his crimes.

Her brother watches the display of power that Vanya possesses and reached towards the last piece of bread he had left. He tore at it like a savage, disgusting even himself. All his grace and power stripped away by his sister, how the tables have turned. "You mean Father, don't you?"

Vanya looked at him, puzzled, unaware of what he meant by the comment. But Silas didn't wait for her to question him, he pointed the finger at her and chuckled. "You always talked of that bastard. Alive or dead, you worshipped him, even though there was nothing special about him. You have no idea what kind of inconsiderate prick he was."

"Father was a good person, far better than you or me." Vanya insisted, not letting him insult their late father.

Silas sneered and threw a piece of bread at her, that she batted away before it hit her face. She frowned at his ridiculous behavior, fed up with his dramatics. "Of course, you would think that you were his favorite. You were the obedient child with big sad doe eyes. Do you know what I was? I was the embarrassment, the reject. I was three, and he called me a monster. All because I didn't follow his rules."

The ginger shook her head and walked closer to Silas. "Father loved you, but you were always so quick to start a fight. He tried to make you a good king, but you rejected him, and now here we are."

"Ah, yes, here we are. The Monster and the Gifted one." Silas swallowed the last piece of bread and spread his arms wide in a mocking gesture. He didn't love me, or you or anyone else. Osmond used people, you stupid wench! He married a girl half his age, filled her with seed, and when the child didn't meet his expectations, he threw them both away and fucked everything pretty. And then you were born, perfect little Vanya - the Gracious gift of God. You nodded along to everything and did as he said. Other than me, who had his own opinions."

Vanya scoffed and licked her dry lips to hold back the foul words on the tip of her tongue. "Father was a good King and a better parent than Mother. You spat, beat, and laughed at other children. You were always rotten, Silas. And Father knew it, so did Mother."

"I did it to get attention; no one would pay attention to the reject! Before you were born, I was the perfect firstborn. But not to him! To Father, I was the little monstrosity that refused to keep quiet about his affair. I was three and saw him fucking another woman. I told Mother, and he grew angry with me, by the time you were born, I was a bastard in their eyes. The one that destroyed their marriage, as if I was the one getting his dick wet behind my wife's back."

The princess stared at Silas in shock, Osmond always said that his son was born cruel. To think all of the cruelty, hate, and violence came from their parent's treatment. Siflaed was a neglectful mother, and it turns out Osmond was no better. Vanya always saw him as a smart man with good intentions, when in truth, he was nothing like that.

"He was a good King, true. But a terrible Father, husband, and person. Just like me." Silas smirked at his small victory, while Vanya frowned at him. "He treated you better because you were naive and gullible. All the talk of duty, putting the kingdom first and God. You were born to be a bargaining chip, just like Mother, married off to the highest bidder. Face it; there is no kindness in our blood."

"I am not you or them!" Vanya insisted, causing Silas to laugh.

"If that's what you like to believe."

Vanya slammed her hands against the table, startling Silas. She huffed and got in his face, her eyes as cold as ice. "You did horrible things to me and everyone around you. I am nothing like you."

"If you want to blame anyone, then blame Stithulf."

"Stithulf didn't order men to murder three people!" Vanya spat at him, remembering the blonde man who talked to her about Silas as a King. How charming he seemed, the two-faced bastard.

"He reminded me what a threat you and your child pose to my reign. He told me the only way to ensure my glory and throne was to kill anyone who wants to take it away. First you and your child, then Mother's brother Æthelric. He said I was meant to rule, that the world would remember me. And they will. These heathens of yours will kill me, probably torture as well. And the church will name me a martyr for my faith, and history will remember me as Silas the Great." Silas boasted, throwing his arms around and nearly falling out of his chair in the process.

Vanya shook her head and looked at the cross on his desk, the one he gifted her, their father's cross. "Only those who lived a righteous life can be names martyrs. You executed, hurt, and humiliated people. You are no saint, Silas, and the church won't care for your death. Terrible people don't go to heaven."

The older Saxon rose from the chair and leaned against the table, looking into his wine cup. "Then, I shall see you in Hell. That's where you heathen scum will all go. And we can burn side by side as we did in our cribs." He raised his cup and downed it in one go before letting it slip through his fingers and hit the ground. "Farewell, Sister."

He stumbled towards his bed and collapsed on it face first, his white shirt falling lower, exposing his shoulder blades. Vanya watched his naked back, she then turned on her heel and left the hut to return to her own. She made a decision. Yesterday Ivar explained to her all the ways Vikings executed people, and one seemed perfect to Vanya now.

Her husband sat up in their bed, looking at Vanya with tired eyes. "Where did you go? Are you hurt?"

"Blood eagle," Vanya answered, confusing Ivar further.

"What?"

She sighed and sat down next to him, looking into his eyes. "The way we should kill Silas. You should Blood Eagle him after the naming ceremony." She explained as Ivar nodded, still confused about the sudden decision.

Vanya closed her eyes and took a deep breath, feeling her shoulders get lighter. As if the weight on them dropped, making breathing easier than before. She opened her icy eyes again and stared into her husband's stormy hues. "What is it, Min elskede (My beloved)?"

She chuckled at the tender tone, having missed the endearment more than she thought was possible. "I was terrified out there, Ivar. I thought I would never see you or Kattegat ever again." Tears gathered in her eyes, her lips shaking from the oncoming sobs.

Ivar cupped her cheek and wiped her tear away with his thumb. "You are here now. And nobody will ever take you away from me. I will never let anyone harm you or our son again."

Vanya sobbed and flung herself into his arms, breathing in his scent and hugging him tightly, as if it was all a dream that would disappear if she let go. "From now on, you never have to be afraid, Vanya. I will protect you both. No one, not even death, will ever lay a hand on you again!"

Ivar kissed her temple before she pulled back and stared into his eyes, looking for any sign of lies or uncertainty. But she found none, all she saw was honesty and rage. Anger that he let anyone harm them. "You have to swear it, Ivar! Promise me." She begged desperately, afraid to ever have to fight for her life again.

"I promise and swear on my life and the Gods. I will never, ever let anyone harm you or our son. No matter what it might take to keep you both safe, I will do everything and more to protect you. From now on, you'll both be safe and sound. I oath not to enter Vallhalla if I brake this promise. I swear on my arm ring."

Vanya leaned against his chest and sighed in satisfaction, with one less problem on her mind, she slept easier. Her son's absence still plagued her mind, but the sooner everything was done, the sooner she could have him in her arms again.

The next morning, five days since their son's birth, they all stood gathered in the Great Hall once again, revealing the plan to Blood Eagle Silas. "And who will do it? Ivar can't stand." Sigurd pointed out, making his brother snarl at him.

"It doesn't matter. We can give him a chair, or let someone else do it." Vanya jumped in before a fight broke out. She was in no mood to watch them argue; the most important thing right now is that Silas dies; it doesn't matter by whose hand.

Everyone nodded, looking at the wedded couple glued to each other's hip. Vanya still looked sick and weak, but the more she clung to Ivar, the straighter her back got, and the higher she held her head. She was gaining back the confidence she gathered during her nine months of marriage to their brother. There were still bits of fear and edginess visible, but with Ivar and Hoenir shadowing her, she breathed easier.

"You are on edge." Sigurd pointed out, voicing what everyone was thinking. Vanya locked gaze with him and smiled to reassure them.

"I..." A cry interrupted her sentence; a child was crying somewhere. "I miss my son, that's all. They still won't let me see him."

Aslaug frowned at the information and looked at her youngest son for confirmation. Ivar nodded and took Vanya's hand in his, trying to comfort his sad wife. The Queen rose from her seat and left the Ragnarssons, Vanya, Torvi, and Hoenir.

When she returned, it was with the sound of a crying infant. She opened the door with a babe in her arms, cradling it softly, trying to calm it down. "Mother?" Questioned Ubbe, confused, carrying his nephew towards Vanya.

The ginger looked at Aslaug bewildered, as the older woman laid the child into her arms. "You went through hours of horrendous labor and near death for this child. If anyone deserves to hold him, it is you." Aslaug smiled at Vanya, who hugged her son closer to her, the boy calming down the moment he smelled her scent.

The child reached out with his little hand and grasped a fiery lock, playing with it while staring up at her, sniffling slightly. Vanya smiled at his teary gaze and wiped his tears, stroking his smooth chubby cheek. "Looks like he just missed his mother. What a surprise from Ivar's child."

Aslaug and Vanya frowned at Sigurd's comment but ignored it as Ivar was too engrossed at looking at the little version of himself in his wife's arms. "That is the safest child in Kattegat." Hvitserk pointed out, looking at the calm baby slobbering over Vanya's hair.

Bjorn snorted and patted Vanya and Ivar on the shoulder. "With a mother ready to burn kingdoms down and a father into ritual sacrifice? It only fits with a grandson of Ragnar Lothbrok."

The others nodded along while Vanya looked at Ivar with a raised eyebrow. At Ivar's confused stare, she smiled down at the babe. "Hold your hands out, Ivar. You should hold him too."

Ivar looked at the frail newborn and shook his head. "I will drop him, Vanya."

The redhead rolled her eyes and passed the child towards him despite his protests. "You are holding him with your arms, not your legs. Bond with him, he didn't see that much of you." She spoke softly, not meaning it in a mean way.

With tender eyes, Ivar looked at his son, noting the wiggling legs under the fur. He would walk one day, run around just like Ivar's brothers could. At least in something, the gods were merciful; they listened to his prayers and made his son strong and healthy. Just like his mother prophesied, and his son would be like his grandmother. He would have visions, Hoenir, and Aslaug were sure of it.

"Did you think of a name?" Ubbe asked, watching his serene nephew.

"Yes. But it's a surprise." Vanya revealed giggling at Torvi and Hvitserk, cooing at the babe who frowned at them in return.

In the heathen culture, nine days after a babe is born, the naming ceremony is held. Vatni ausinn is a ritual where the father acknowledges the child and names it. Ivar sat in a chair with their son on his knee, sprinkling the babe with water.

"My son, Aros!" He announced to the room while his babe everyone cheered in delight. Ubbe nudged Vanya, who stood next to him, clapping. The redhead looked up at him with a questioning look at the older males smug look.

"From the river's mouth? Really?" He asked about the name meaning while Vanya shrugged.

"It fits, does it not?"

"I guess it does." He looked back towards his little brother, cradling his firstborn lovingly. "Aros Ivarsson."

After the ceremony, Ivar and Vanya returned to their hut, with Hoenir following behind them. Her husband was about to order some thralls to fill their tub with water when Brynja ran towards them. "Wait, My Prince. Let me do it. I would like to spend some time with Vanya anyway. If you were to permit it."

Ivar looked at Vanya in question, but the ginger smiled at him reassuringly. "Go. I could use a distraction before tomorrow. And Hoenir will be outside; we will be fine. Have fun with your brothers." She reassured him, kissing his forehead and sending him off.

The Prince and wanderer left the hut, the girls cold Hoenir sitting outside on the bench, but ignored his presence. Vanya turned on her heel to look at Brynja, who smiled at her softly, her eyes glassy.

"What's wrong? Are you unwell?" Vanya frantically ran to the other redhead's side, pulling her towards the bed to sit down. Brynja laughed at the worried mother and shook her head, her curls bouncing around her.

"I am just happy to see you again. My life would be very boring without you, My Princess." She confessed, hugging Vanya, careful of the sleepy babe in her arms. Vanya embraced the older ginger with her left arm, enjoying the affection Brynja gave her.

Truth is Brynja is her only true friend here, that she befriended outside of marriage. Of course, Ubbe, Torvi, Hvitserk, and Bjorn are her friends as well. But if it weren't for her marriage to Ivar, she would have never talked to them. Vanya liked to believe her, and Brynja would be friends even if it weren't for Ivar. If she ever were to get divorced, Brynja would still be her friend.

The curly-haired ginger had a pure heart, contagious smile, and shared Vanya's love for children. She gave the best advice and listened to her complaining without any remarks. For every complaint Vanya told her, Brynja gave two. Servant or not, she was a good girl and an even better friend.

"I bought you a gift!" Brynja cheered, letting Vanya put Aros into his crib. Floki made it for the babe from the boat meant to serve as their coffin if they were found dead. It was quite morbid, but Vanya didn't mind it that much, and Aros seemed comfortable.

The Viking girl showed her a present wrapped in a cloth. She laid it on Vanya's lap and mentioned for her to open it. Brynja was giddy, and in turn, Vanya became giddy as well, she unwrapped the gift and looked inside to see the neckline of a dress. The fabric was blue with white lacings.

"You bought me a dress?" Vanya asked, confused, looking up at the sheepish ginger.

"Made actually. It's not as pretty as the ones you make or the ones you buy. I don't know how to make dresses like that, so it's plainer." Brynja apologized, frowning down at the dress, no longer as excited as before.

Vanya shook her head and walked towards the mirror with the gift in hand. Watching herself in the mirror, Vanya marveled at the simple dress. It wasn't as lavish as the dresses Vanya was used to having, but she liked its look. "It's beautiful. I bet it's comfortable as well." She reassured the other female twirling around with the dress to see it flow in the air.

"I made it for your name day, but I didn't get to give it to you." With a bashful smile, Brynja watched the Princess gush over the dress. It took her a long time to make the dress, but the smile was worth all her frustration with the fabric. And all the times her father laughed at her pricking her finger.

Vanya turned on her heel and looked at Brynja, shocked. "You wasted money on me!" She cried out mortified, the fact that the poor girl bought fabric to create the dress. But Brynja shook her head and shrugged the issue off.

The young mother carefully set the dress down on the bed and skipped to her wardrobe to look inside. "You must choose one of mine, even if you sell it. I can't just accept a gift like that and give you nothing in return!"

Brynja shook her head at the frantic Princess and observed her rummaging through all the dresses she owned. "That's what gifts are for, Vanya. You give them out of love, not expecting anything back."

"Nonsense!" Vanya fussed and turned towards the other ginger. Brynja's smile was tired, and her eyes pleading. She didn't want anything in return, but that didn't sit with Vanya. "Choose whatever dress you want. If not for yourself, then for me. You gave me a gift out of love. So chose yours."

Brynja smiled at that and walked to the closet to find a dress for herself. In the end, she chose a purple one with long dark sleeves. "Purple. Like your favorite flowers."

"You remember?" Brynja blinked at Vanya in astonishment while Vanya mockingly rolled her eyes, smirking.

She circled the older female in front of the mirror and stopped behind her, propping her chin on her shoulder. "Of course, I remember. I always remember small things like that. But don't ask me anything important. I do forget these things very easily." Brynja chuckled and felt the soft fabric with her fingers, liking the feel of it. It was obviously expensive, but the servant wouldn't complain to Vanya. "How is your father, anyway? Is he better?"

Brynja hummed and laid the dress on the bed, neatly folding it and wrapping it in the cloth from Vanya's gift. "Stronger every day, which he keeps showing off. I think he fell in love with the neighbor's widow. He keeps running around shirtless and lifting heavy things."

Vanya laughed at the image of Brynja's father only in his breeches, smiling every time he sees the widow. "Maybe he is taking the lack of children in his own hands. Trying to create some little ones on his own."

"Oh, gods! I hope not; he is too old." Brynja gagged and smirked at Vanya, crowding closer and whispering into her ear. "I would rather make some of my own. But there are no men good enough."

The Princess sighed and sat down on her bed, looking up at the cheeky ginger. "And why are you whispering? Are you afraid that the man outside might hear?"

"I saw his face once, quite handsome. A bath would do him wonders. And new clothes." Brynja confessed, gushing over Hoenir. The seventeen-year-old mother shook her head, and teasingly smiled at Brynja.

"My, my, is someone in love?"

"Hush, Vanya! Or I will regret missing you at all!" Brynja joked back, fake glaring at the taller girl, while she laughed it off. It was good to be back and joke around, forgetting what is going to happen tomorrow.

The two girls walked to the door after the bath was prepared, saying goodbye for the night. Vanya watched her go with a small smile, thankful for her visit. She then turned on her heel and sat down next to Hoenir, who looked at her in confusion.

At least she suspected it to be confusion; it's hard to tell in the dark when he has his hood on. "I wanted to thank you for the advice you gave me in my dreams."

"No need to do that. You would have survived anyway; I had a vision of our meeting. It couldn't happen if you died before we met. My job now is to make certain you don't die from here on." His voice was smooth, yet a little bit rusty and monotone like always. She wondered if he felt any emotions or just his them pretty well.

"Then I thank you for that instead. But I wish for you to find a hut, not just a bench or a piece of fur outside of ours."

Hoenir shook his head and looked down at her cold frame. "I need to be near if somebody were to attack you."

"Ivar will be with me."

"Doesn't mean you will be safe."

Vanya sighed and looked out towards the sleepy streets of Kattegat, smiling softly. "I am safe. I am home, surrounded by friends and family. I have nothing to fear."

Hoenir scoffed and leaned back, ignoring the persistent ginger by his side. Vanya looked at him, expecting an explanation of his behavior, but he gave her none. "Say what you want to, Hoenir. If we are to spend a lot of time together, you should be able to say what you want to."

"You are very annoying."

"I know. Get used to it." She smiled at him cheekily, causing him to shake his head and stand up. Vanya looked at him in confusion, till he pointed at a crawling shape in the dark.

"Your husband's coming. And I have a hut to find. I don't want to hear anything I shouldn't." Vanya nodded, satisfied until the meaning behind the words hit her.

"We wouldn't if you were outside! That's so improper!" She scolded him, blushing madly. Did Hoenir really think that she and Ivar would sleep together if he were right outside their door?

He shrugged his broad shoulders and pulled his cloak tighter around his body. "You never know. I believe I have to take a bath, as well."

Vanya looked at him, shocked, and blushed even harder. "You heard?"

"Some of it. I am a better listener than a talker. So get used to it as well, Princess."

"Call me, Vanya. Please."

"As you wish, Vanya. Goodnight, Sleep well. Both of you." With that, Hoenir sidestepped Ivar on the porch and stalked off towards a random hut, entering it and closing the door behind him.

"Whose hut it that?" She questioned her husband, who watched the wanderer walk off as well.

"His. Mother gave it to him." He shrugged, crawling inside with Vanya behind him bewildered. The wretched man had a home all along and stayed in front of their hut instead. She didn't know if to be moved by his dedication or annoyed by his stubbornness. "Did you take your bath yet?"

"Not yet." She had her back turned to him while he sat by the tub. She put the dress away and slowly unbraided her hair. "Did you make a decision on who will kill Silas?"

"I will do it. Torvi went into labor. He will be with her, and I will Blood Eagle the little Monster." Ivar boasted pridefully, making her sigh.

She brushed through her hair and put the tie that kept it together safely away to find it in the morning. "Let's hope the Gods are with Torvi, and the child will be born soon."

"If it's born sooner, Bjorn can kill your brother in my steed. It should be me killing him! I thought I lost two of the most important people in my life. He didn't worry about you two as I did!" Ivar complained as he dragged himself towards the fire chairs by the fire and poured himself a cup of ale.

"Ivar." Vanya scolded, untying the laces of her dress. "Torvi shouldn't suffer so that Silas can die by your hand. She deserves better."

"I think so too, but she is the one who married Bjorn."

Vanya spun on her heel, annoyed by his words. She froze with her mouth open, looking at him sitting there sipping on his cup. He raised his eyebrow at her sudden silence and waited for her mind to start working again.

"Put a shirt on, Ivar! I am trying to scold you!" Ivar smirked at her flustered state and leaned back in the chair, showing off his naked chest.

"Why? Do you not like the view." He asked cheekily, making her pout and skip over to him. Kissing his lips, to wipe the smug look off his face, Vanya pulled back, raising an eyebrow at his satisfied face.

"You are a pain, husband. You are lucky I love you."

Ivar grinned at her teasing words and kissed her knuckles, gazing into her steel-blue eyes. "Good. I would be hurt if you didn't." Vanya chuckled softly and connected their lips again, enjoying being in Ivar's arms once again. "What would I be without my Freyja."

Vanya groaned at his question and slapped his shoulder pouting. The Ragnarsson frowned at her reaction, hurt by her dismissal. "I used to think you were the cleverest man alive. And here you are calling me a goddess like the rest of them. I am not Freyja or Frigg!"

Vanya stood up from his lap, dropped her dress, and stepped into the wooden bathtub. Ivar shook his head and put his cup down, looking at her seriously. "You are perfect, full of light and love. You love me despite everything I am and didn't blame me once for your suffering. Vanya, you are my wife, a survivor, and the mother of my child, far more powerful than you believe yourself to be. Min elskede (My beloved), you are either a gift from the Gods or a Goddess yourself, I have no doubts about that."

Vanya smiled at his loving words, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. "Do you really think I'm powerful?"

He chuckled at her question and pointed at himself. "I, for one, find you terrifying." She grinned at the answer and bashfully looked down into the water, trying to hide her blush behind a curtain of red locks. "Who else sees you as a goddess anyway?"

"The people do. And Sigurd as well."

Ivar frowned at the last part and sourly drank the rest of his ale, while Vanya silently laughed at his jealousy. "He believes me to be a goddess because I endure you. But it's not such a hard task as everyone makes it out to be. I enjoy your presence quite a bit." She smirked secretly; her head turned to pick up a cloth to clean herself with. When she turned around, Ivar's face was close to hers, startling her.

The rag would have hit the floor if it wasn't for him catching it. The corner of his perfect lips lifted at Vanya's wide-eyed stare. He seemed like a predator, watching his prey, enjoying every second of the hunt. "I enjoy your presence, as well, obviously."

"Obviously." Vanya echoed, hypnotized by his hungry stare, his eyes like a raging storm, pulling her in deeper. She leaned in to connect their lips, but Ivar pulled away and crawled towards the beds to look at their child instead. She scoffed at his teasing and cleaned herself, pouting the whole time.

She expected Ivar to leave her alone after his stunt, but luckily for her, he had other plans. The moment she sat down on their bed, he kissed her and laid her down on the furs, making love to her carefully, in case she was still in pain after giving birth not that long ago.

The next morning, they were woken up by their son, whining in his bed, hungry and rested. They both groaned, exhausted from last night's lovemaking. Ivar sat up in bed, lifted Aros, and handed him to Vanya so she could nurse their little treasure.

"Silas will be bought to the Hall after our meal," Ivar informed her, watching her for any sign of hesitancy. But there was none. She decided he deserved to die even before Aros was born, and the fact that he threatened her son's life was the last nail in his coffin. Silas would die a painful death and burn in Hell for all eternity.

"Then let's go. The sooner we eat, the sooner this will all be over. And I can gust over Bjorn's and Torvi's baby." Vanya spoke, burping Aros while Ivar got dressed. After he was done, he took the babe from her and allowed her to clothe herself as well.

When she laced up her white dress and braided her hair, she walked towards Ivar and took the babe from his embrace, smoothing down the little hairs on Aros's head. Ivar picked up his axe and put it on his belt, so he wouldn't have to return for it later. When Vanya saw this, she frowned. "Wait."

Ivar looked at her, confused, waiting for her to continue. She laid Aros down on their bed, ensuring he was secure and walked over to her husband again. She took his axe and trailed her finger the edge, testing the sharpness. The sharp bite of the blade and the bead of blood that flowed down her finger reassured her that it was indeed ready to be used.

The execution would be smoother this way, which meant the whole ordeal wouldn't take too long. No matter her hate for Silas, she would hate for him to suffer under a dull blade. He always said he deserved the best, Vanya thought that should include the weapon that would kill him too.

Ivar gazed up at her, not sure to question her behavior or not. She seemed like she was in a trance, too deep in her mind to remember that she wasn't alone. He softly pried the weapon from her soft fingers and laid it on his lap, taking her hand into his and sucking on the fingertip to stop the bleeding.

Vanya kneeled in front of him and kissed the steel of his weapon, looking up at him pleadingly. "Make him pay. For everything."

"I will."

After breakfast, everyone gathered as Floki set up the posts where Silas would kneel. Ubbe walked to her side and tried to pull her back, but she wrenched her arm free and glared up at him.

"You don't have to be here, Vanya." Sigurd reminded her from her left, also looking at her with soft eyes like she would brake. As if she was weak, but he was wrong. They were all wrong. Vanya was a survivor like Ivar said.

The ginger shook her head and mentioned for Brynja to join her. She handed the babe to her and ordered Hoenir to take them to Ivar's and her hut. "I must be here. I have to see him die. If I don't, I will never be sure if it's over or not."

Ubbe watched her determined face and nodded, Sigurd on the other hand, scoffed and walked off, obviously displeased. "What is his problem?" Vanya asked, seeing the Ragnarsson stalk off, muttering under his breath.

Ubbe gave her a wry smile and shook his head. "He believes you to be tainted by Ivar. Sigurd thinks that he is forcing you into this. That he was the one who chose to Blood eagle Silas and not you."

Vanya scoffed at the explanation and glared at the retreating figure of the snake-eyed Viking. "If anybody deserves to see Silas die, then it's me. I was the one who spent three days in the middle of nowhere, freezing, bleeding, and starving. Silas made my life a living hell from the moment I can remember. I want him to suffer."

"I understand that. But Sigurd still sees you as that timid Princess who was forced to marry Ivar. Many of us do, but you have changed. You are stronger than before, more confident as well. But you don't have to force yourself. You did nearly faint at the mention of blood only nine months ago. No one would blame you if you needed to get some air."

Vanya smiled up at the worried Ragnarsson and linked her arms with his. "Then would you be so kind as to stand with me and catch me if I do faint? After all, you are my only friend left in the room."

Ubbe chuckled at that and led her towards a place near the door to have a good view and an escape route. Silas was dragged in by his arms, spitting insults at the men in English, not caring if they understood him or not. He was pulled on top of the podium and chained to the wooden posts, while a chair was positioned behind for Ivar to sit on. The Ragnarsson dragged himself up and sat down, looking for his wife, relieved to see her with Ubbe.

After a nod from her, he raised the axe and cut into Silas's flesh, a scream echoing around the hall. Vanya watched the display emotionlessly, taking in Silas's screams. They disgusted her; she wanted to cry but had no tears to shed. It was as if her heart and mind were two different entities, disagreeing with each other about what reaction to give. She hated the sight of blood, hated his screams and pain. But found relief in it.

He was dying in front of her eyes, and she was horrified by the display. But not enough to look away. Ubbe squeezed her hand in a silent question if she was ok. She shrank back but kept looking, cringing from time to time at the violence. This is the last time she would see death; she couldn't handle so much gore ever again.

"Vanya!" Silas screamed out between his cries for mercy, catching her eye in the crowd. Vanya locked gazes with his pleading one, her eyes cold and empty, a coverup of the turmoil in her core. "Please!"

She shook her head, keeping her head held high, not showing any sign of hesitance or weakness. She wanted Silas to see what he caused in her eyes before he died.

Blessed are the poor in spirit,

for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Blessed are they who mourn,

for they shall be comforted.

Blessed are the meek,

for they shall inherit the earth.

Blessed are they who hunger and thirst for righteousness,

for they shall be satisfied.

Blessed are the merciful,

for they shall obtain mercy.

Blessed are the pure of heart,

for they shall see God.

Blessed are the peacemakers,

for they shall be called children of God.

Blessed are they who are persecuted for the sake of righteousness,

for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Vanya repeated in her mind, remembering how their mother drilled the words into their minds as children. If Silas is truly a martyr, then he will be reunited with God, which she doubts, but maybe it will give comfort to Silas. The blond King kept screaming as Ivar drew the lungs from his body, putting it on his shoulders, his time on earth coming short. "Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth." She whispered underneath her breath, seeing the life fade from Silas's eyes and his head fall.

He was dead.

#vikings #vikings imagine #history vikings #ivar imagine #ivar the boneless #ivar lothbrok #ivar ragnarsson #ivar #original character #original female character

75 notes · View notes

igirisuhito · 4 years

Text

Title: Bara Boy Relationship(s): Komaeda Nagito/Hinata Hajime Rating: Explicit Summary: Hinata Hajime had always known he was trans. It wasn’t a big deal, it was just how things were. He passed well as a boy, and had gotten by just fine in highschool without people finding out his secret. That is, until Komaeda draws it out of him. Trigger Warnings: Referenced rape/non-con, Referenced underage sex, Referenced homophobia, Piss jokes, Choking, Dubious consent, Transphobia, Komaeda not knowing what “boundaries” are Disclaimer: This is... old. You may disagree with my interpretation of the characters and how I wrote them to be. That is not my problem. The trans experience is uniquely felt and interpreted by each individual, there is no “correct” way to write it.

[Ao3 Link]

────── 〔✿〕──────

“You’re not going to join in, Hinata-kun?”

A gentle voice awoke me from my daydream. A pale figure stood over me, milky chest exposed and white hair damp and flat compared to its usual fluffiness.

The boy looked like a drowned rat.

A swallowed the thought and gave a weak smile. “Sorry, I’m not a big fan of swimming.”

It was honestly my worst nightmare. Being dropped onto a tropical island with a whole class of other teenagers. Hot days of sweat and exhaustion followed by warm nights of sticky skin and restlessness.

And the only relief we were provided was the water and the cool hum of the dining room AC.

Everybody else seemed pleased about the whole thing. Most students went swimming every day. The days they didn’t go swimming they met up in the dining room or hung out on the other islands.

Komaeda knelt down into the sand in beside me, grains of sand sticking to his damp legs. There was plenty of room on the towel, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“Are you insecure about your body, Hinata?”

I stared at the boy with wide eyes, shocked by such a brazen question. “U-um...”

I barely got a stutter out before Komaeda started speaking again. “Ah! That’s incredibly presumptuous of me! How could an amazing Ultimate like you ever be insecure! Leave that kind of thing to untalented people like me, Hinata-kun.”

Komaeda grinned a sickly grin. I hated how he managed to read me so well and then dismiss himself of being rude or ridiculous. Was he mocking me?

I sighed and shook my head. “I don’t like swimming, that’s all.”

“That’s understandable!” The Ultimate Luck chirped. “The sea is a very dangerous place, all sorts of unlucky things could happen to you! You may get swept out to sea, or stung by a jellyfish, or impaled on rocks, or-“

“I get the point.”

Komaeda began to wiggle his legs, worming his feet into the sand. “So you’re scared of the sea?”

“No...I just don’t like swimming.”

“So you don’t know how to swim?”

“Of course I know how to swim!”

“Are you worried what others will think of you then?”

“I guess...”

“So you’re insecure!”

“I’m not insecure!”

This was getting frustrating fast. Then again, every conversation with Komaeda was frustrating. The way he pried and picked me apart to find the truth made not only me, but everybody else really angry. It was hard to discern whether it was simple curiosity or an active effort to get people to dislike him.

“I guess you’re not insecure then.” Komaeda's attention was focused on shuffling his feet as far as he could into the sand.

Oh thank god he had given up.

��So is it the way you act that worries you or is it the way you look?”

Oh god fucking dammit.

“Do we have to have this conversation?” I muttered, pulling my knees up to my chest with a sigh.

“Not at all! I’m happy to talk about whatever interests you, Hinata-kun!” The other boy smiled wide as he turned his head back to me. His grey eyes really sparkled in the sunlight.

“We could talk about you?” I tried to sound as non-offending as possible.

Komaeda cackled at my suggestion. “You don’t want to know about trash like me!”

And so the conversation ended. There we were, skin burning beneath the hot sun in silence. I could feel the drops of sweat rolling down my back uncomfortably.

“You know, my parents probably drowned to death after their plane crashed.” Komaeda broke the silence unexpectedly.

His face was expressionless despite his heavy words. We’d talked about his parents deaths before but it seemed as though he had moved past it. It was an obvious ploy to get me to change the subject back to myself.

“Okay, fine.” I huffed as I leaned my hands into the towel. “I am uncomfortable with exposing my body to the others.”

The Ultimate Luck’s face lit up in a smirk, clearly proud of the fact he had cracked me wide open. His expression quickly morphed into one of ponder.

“Why would you be uncomfortable? There are plenty more less attractive bodies on display, such as mine!”

I sighed and stretched my legs back out. “It’s not quite like that.”

“How else could it be? Are you ashamed of your buff chest? You know Nidai has much more impressive muscles.” Komaeda kept his pleasant smile even with the not-so-subtle dig.

“Buff chest?”

Komaeda nodded and glanced down. “You have a really well built chest, like straight out of a bara manga.”

He lifted a sandy hand and pressed it to my chest before I could even say anything. My breath caught in my throat as he pressed skinny fingers into the soft tissue beneath my shirt and binder.

“Huh. I did not expect your pecs to be so...squishy.” Komaeda tilted his head to the side as he cupped a breast in his hand and squeezed.

My face flushed with an unbearable heat. Was he an idiot? Was he a pervert? Was he making fun of me?

I grabbed the boy’s wrist, avoiding his eyes. “I-I’m transgender...”

I felt Komaeda’s body stiffen and he pulled his wrist out of my grasp. “Oh.”

‘Oh.’ One word absolutely killed me on the spot. That’s the response everybody made upon learning. Followed with awkward apologies and people slowly distancing themselves.

I could feel my throat closing up, I was on the verge of tears. I didn’t want to cry in front of Komaeda. Nothing could be more embarrassing.

“I’m so stupid for not picking up on the signs earlier! Oh my! I’m so very sorry Hinata-kun!” Komaeda put his hands on the sides of my face and pulled my gaze back to him.

Huh?

My cheeks squished against Komaeda’s sandy palms. “I’ll try to make this less embarrassing for you! Let’s see...Oh I know! I’m gay!”

“You don’t have to lie about being queer to make me more comfortable.” I tried to speak as well as I could without having my words mushed too much.

“But I am! I have been since I was little! I remember getting beaten up one day for holding another boy’s hand! It must have been bad luck to counteract the good luck of getting to spend time with another man...” Komaeda was beginning to ramble about his luck again.

“Okay okay, I believe you. Please remove your hands from my face.”

The other let go with a weak smile. It was sweet of Komaeda to try and make me feel comfortable by coming out as well. Honestly it didn’t surprise me whatsoever that he was gay. He had taken Tsumuki’s crotch to the face more than once without reaction.

“So you can’t swim because you wear a binder?” Komaeda queried as he shuffled himself onto the towel.

“Yes...I mean I could swim without one but...” I trailed off, a bit uncomfortable with explaining to Komaeda why I didn’t want people seeing my boobs.

“But you could just wade, right?”

I found myself caught off-guard by his suggestion. “Uh, yeah I could.”

The Ultimate stood up off the towel and extended an arm down to me. “Then come on.”

I blinked a couple of times before accepting his hand, being pulled up by Komaeda. He gave me an enthusiastic smile before looking down at my feet.

“Are you able to roll up your jeans?”

“Yeah, gimme a sec."

I bent down and rolled the cuffs of my jeans up to my knees. It felt a lot cooler like this, I don’t know what possessed me to think wearing jeans to the beach was a good idea.

Komaeda grabbed my wrist once again and began leading me down to the water. I heard a couple of giggles from Saionji, but I couldn’t care less.

“Are you sure you’re not gonna melt, witch?!” Her shrill voice called out from the water.

Komaeda laughed an insincere laugh, probably just to amuse her. It was easier to just go along with whatever the girl said to avoid making her cry.

The cold water lapped at my toes, causing me to pull back against the boy’s grip a bit. It was colder than I expected.

“Is it too cold for you, Hinata-kun?” Komaeda stopped in his tracks and glanced back at me.

“No, just surprising.” I mumbled as I stepped a bit further into the water.

Nope nope nope nope it’s really fucking cold.

The boy smiled and waded in until the water was 3 quarters of the way up to his knees. I followed closely after him, skimming my fingers through the chilly water as I began to get used to it.

It was a lot better than the temperature out of it, at least.

“How is it?” Komaeda watched the surface of the water break beneath my fingers.

I exhaled softly. “Nice.”

“I’m glad you decided to join in, Hinata-kun. You always look so sad sitting on the shore by yourself.” Komaeda’s voice was soft as he spoke, but held a serious tone.

“I don’t mind, you know.” I met his gaze with a smile.

“But your hope should be able to shine along with everybody else’s!” The Ultimate grabbed my hand from the water and held it between his own. He pulled my hand up to chest height as his eyes sparkled.

A sigh escaped my lips. “I just don’t think-“

The sound of rushing water filled my ears as I was knocked down into the ocean floor. Sand ground against my face as I gasped in shock, my lungs filling with water. I tried to push myself up, only to be held down by the strong current.

Oh god oh god I was going to drown.

What felt like an eternity passed before a hand roughly grabbed the back of my shirt and pulled me up out of the water.

I coughed and spluttered as I sat on my knees in the water, salt water stinging my eyes. The hand on my back rubbed soothingly.

“Ah, such rotten luck. I’m so sorry to get you caught up in this Hinata-kun.”

I recognised the voice as Komaeda's, but was too busy trying to breathe normally to pay him any mind.

“Hey, are you okay?”

I sat back up on my ankles and looked at the boy on his haunches beside me.

“I...I think so.”

Komaeda stared at his hand resting on my back for a second. “Sunflowers, huh?”

I realised he was referring to the pattern on my binder and my face began to feel like it was alight. “Shit. I can’t go back to the beach like this.”

Komaeda laughed softly and straightened himself up. “Wait here, I’ll get my jacket.”

He began to walk back to shore, leaving me cold and breathless in the water. Water covered my knees and went up to my waist, soaking the bottom of my tie.

How humiliating. Not only did I have to be saved by Komaeda from drowning, but now he had to save me from embarrassment too.

I should have stayed on the shore.

I mean, I’m not ashamed of being trans. I know it’s a part of me and I’ve accepted that...it’s just...other people.

Their reactions were always odd. I could meet the most accepting person on earth but it still was weird. Even the most accepting of dudes wouldn’t invite me to a sleepover. Even the most accepting of girls treated me like a gay best friend.

It was exhausting. It made me feel like I didn’t belong no matter how hard I tried.

And now Komaeda, the weirdest person I had ever met, knew my secret.

“Hinata-kun.”

A voice broke me from my thoughts a I looked up to the boy towering over me. He held his green jacket by the shoulders, open and waiting for me.

I stood up and slipped my arms in, muttering a “thanks” as I zipped it closed.

Komaeda simply smiled. “Should we pack up and head back to your cabin?”

With a slight nod, we began to walk together back to the shore. The water swished around our feet, damp sand sunk, dry sand squeaked.

Komaeda shook out the towel we’d been sitting on as I packed up our bags. I picked up my backpack in one hand and Komaeda’s duffel bag in the other.

“Do you want a hand carrying them?” The boy inquired as he folded the towel over his shoulder.

“No, I’m okay thanks.” My voice was a bit strained as I began to walk back to my cabin, Komaeda following close behind.

We walked in silence all the way up to the boardwalk before he spoke again.

“I’m sorry you got swept away because of my awful luck. I shouldn’t have ever thought you would be safe around somebody as dangerous as me.”

I sighed loudly. His self deprecation could be so incredibly exhausting at times like this. “It’s okay Komaeda.”

He didn’t seem convinced but kept quiet anyway. I zipped open the front pocket of my backpack and pulled out my key. Once we were standing outside my door, I pushed it into the lock and twisted until I heard a click then pushed the door open.

Komaeda followed me inside as I walked in and dumped the bags on the floor. I threw myself down onto my bed with a groan of exhaustion.

“Hinata-kun, do you mind if I use your shower? The salt water is awful for my hair.” The boy stroked a few fingers through damp white locks.

“I think it’s more fatal for your hair.” I giggled, not entirely processing what he said.

Wait.

“You want to shower? In my cabin?!”

“Ah! It’s okay if you would prefer me to not, I can understand why you wouldn’t want somebody disgusting like me in your bathroom. I’ll just use the shower in my room.” Komaeda made his usual fake smile before picking up his duffel bag from the floor.

I sat up quickly and put my hands out to stop him. “No no no! I mean...do you really want to shower in my cabin? With me here?”

Komaeda looked somewhat puzzled. “Why wouldn’t I? Oh! Do you have plans to murder me? Feel free to do as you like Hinata-kun! It would be an honour to be murdered by you!”

His sick sense of humour made me roll my eyes. “It’s nothing, go ahead.”

Komaeda opened his mouth to say something before quickly closing it again and taking his duffel bag with him into the bathroom. The door shut with a click behind him.

I laid myself back down again, wrapping my arms around myself. Komaeda’s jacket is so comfy, I couldn’t help but snuggle up a bit.

It smelled of salt and Komaeda.

Oh no, I’m being weird.

I unzipped the jacket and slipped my arms out of it. I was folding it up just as I heard the sound of running water. It was weird how casual and carefree the boy could be sometimes…

Not that it was a bad thing.

I set the jacket down on the bed before threading my fingers into my tie. I pulled off the damp fabric and began to undo the buttons of my shirt.

Hmm, maybe it was best if I had a shower before I changed.

I left my buttons a few undone from the collar down. I unrolled my jeans, sand falling out from the fabric and onto the wooden floor. What a pain.

Komaeda had left my towel on the floor next to my backpack. I was going to have to wash it later along with the rest of my sandy clothes. My eyes wandered up to the clock on the wall.

2:48

It wasn’t nearly as late as it felt.

The sound of running water stopped. He must be done with his shower. I wandered over to my cupboard and pulled out a pair of navy blue boxers with white flowers, a pair of grey shorts, and a plain white t-shirt.

“Excuse me Hinata-kun...”

I heard the bathroom door creak open slightly and Komaeda’s voice spoke meekly.

Oh god, had I left something weird in the bathroom?

“What’s up?”

“I didn’t bring any clean clothes.”

Seriously? The nerve of this guy…

“Would you mind going to my cabin and getting me some? I’m sure there’s a pile on the bed of clothes I forgot to put in my bag this morning.”

I groaned and walked up to the bathroom door, looking away and putting my arm through the gap. “Just wear some of mine. We’re about the same size anyway.”

“Hinata-kun! Your generosity never fails to astound me! You truly are the embodiment of hope itself!” Komaeda chirped as he took the clothes from my hand.

I pulled my arm back in and closed the door with a huff, did that boy do anything right?

I went back to my cupboard and pulled out more clothes for myself. A pair of white boxers with pink flowers, a pair of green shorts and a grey t-shirt with a yellow star printed with the word ‘hope’ in all lowercase comic sans.

Where on earth does Usami get this stuff...?

I added it to my pile begrudgingly as the bathroom door opened, a half dried Komaeda stepping out in the clothes I had given him.

It felt kinda weird to see him wearing my clothes.

“Thank you, Hinata-kun. I don’t know what I would have done without you.” Komaeda grinned as he patted his hair dry with a white towel.

“You didn’t really leave me with many options. The option to do nothing and let you run naked back to your own cabin would have given me a reputation.” I huffed as I looked to the floor.

“Hmm, that’s a fair point. Well, I am going back to my room now. Thanks for letting me use your shower.” Komaeda smiled and waved a hand in the air before swinging his bag over his shoulder.

I waved back and headed into the bathroom where he had been moments ago, pile of clothes in hand. I shut the door behind me and dropped them to the floor.

I don’t really know what I expected, but the bathroom was just as I had left it. Though, all the bottles in the shower had been stood back up and placed on the rack.

Petty…

I unbuttoned the rest of my shirt and slid it off my shoulders. I unclipped the side of my binder and basically peeled it off my skin. Gross.

I undid my jeans and pulled them down over my legs with difficulty. Being so damp had melded all of my clothes to my skin. I slid my boxers down and off my ankles before stepping into the shower and turning it on.

Warm water hit my chest, coaxing a moan from my lungs. Clean water was so nice after being in the ocean.

I rinsed my hair and picked up my bottle of shampoo, squeezing a bit into my hands and rubbing it into my hair. I placed the bottle back on the shelf, where Komaeda had left it.

He made me feel somewhat ashamed of my untidiness.

I lathered up my hair thoroughly before rinsing it again. I picked up the bottle of ‘tropical paradise shower gel’ and squeezed a bit onto my hand. I lathered it up a bit between my hands before beginning to rub the mango scented soap into my skin.

Thinking about it now, Komaeda had reacted very differently to the whole trans thing.

Sure, he was upset he hadn’t realised. But like, he didn’t seem uncomfortable by it. Most people make it seem like I had been tricking or lying to them.

And then he had gotten me his jacket to hide my binder?

And showered in my cabin without a hint of worry?

And was now walking around in my underwear and clothes...

That’s weird! This isn’t normally the way people treat me! People are usually grossed out and confused!

I rinsed the soap from my skin with a sigh. Komaeda Nagito is a weird, weird guy.

I turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, reaching for a towel before wrapping it around myself.

What if he told the other Ultimates? Would he do that? Surely not...he was crazy but at least he had common decency, right?

I patted myself dry and shook the water out of my hair. I should probably ask him not to tell people just in case…

I pulled on my boxers and shorts before slipping my arms into the stupid shirt and wiggling it over my head.

Hanging up my towel, I turned off the bathroom light and headed back into my room. I wandered over to the bed and flopped down.

Man, almost drowning really takes it out of you...

I closed my eyes for just a second.

A second…

Knock knock

Godammit.

I pulled my legs over the side of the bed with a groan and walked towards the door. I opened it to see a gleaming face staring back at me.

“Hinata-kun! You weren’t sleeping were you?” Komaeda chirped.

“No, it’s alright.” I smiled at him, feeling less tired than before.

“Ah, that’s good. I like your shirt, may I come in?”

I nodded and stepped aside, allowing the fluffy haired boy into my room. I shut the door behind as he sat himself on my bed.

“I got something for you...to apologise.” Komaeda smiled as I noticed he had a medium sized parcel in his hands.

I pressed my fingers to my forehead in frustration. “Komaeda, you don’t have to apologise for anything. Plus I saw you like ten minutes ago, what on earth could you have gotten?”

“Ten minutes?” The boy spoke in a confused voice. “I left here nearly 4 hours ago.”

I glanced around at the clock.

7:43

“Huh. Maybe I did have a nap.” I mumbled before sitting down beside Komaeda.

“So you haven’t eaten? Do you want me to ask Hanamura to make you something?” His voice was concerned yet caring.

I shook my head. “I ate way too much at lunch.”

Komaeda nodded in response. “Okay. Well, take this.”

He shoved the parcel into my hands and gripped his knees tightly. “I’m sorry if this comes off as me overstepping my boundaries. But I want to see you be the brightest hope you can be...”

That sentence made me even more worried than I was before. The parcel was more of a gift box, fit with even a little blue ribbon on the top. It was awfully cute.

I pulled the lid off the box and set it down beside me. Inside the box was black fabric, a garment?

With careful hands, I lifted it out of the box and let it unfold. It looked a bit like a tank top, the kind of one that sporty guys wore.

“It’s a swimming binder. It looks kind of like a compression tank top and is tight enough to give you a flat chest but loose enough to let you swim...at least that’s what Usami said.” Komaeda squeezed his thighs together as he spoke, averting his eyes away.

A binder...I can swim in?

“Komaeda...” I breathed.

“You’re offended and disgusted, I knew it. Scum like me should never have stepped out of place like this.”

“This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me...”

I threw my arms around the skinny boy, grinning impossibly wide as I squeezed him tightly as I could. “Thank you so much Komaeda.”

Komaeda wrapped his arms around my torso and hugged me back with a slight blush on his cheeks. “I-It’s the least someone like me could do...”

I let up my embrace to instead grip the boy’s shoulders. “Wanna go for a swim?”

“Isn’t it going to be dark soon?” Komaeda refuted.

“We could go to the pool?” I suggested, letting go of the boy and picking up the binder again.

“Huh. That sounds good.” He smiled softly, genuinely.

Komaeda looked so nice like this. The sunlight coming through my window hit his face in all the right spots. His white hair draped over his forehead. He really was an attractive guy.

But I didn’t have time to stare, I wanted to go swimming.

I stood up from the bed and stepped over to my cupboard. I pulled out a pair of plain black board shorts.

Komaeda stood up and wandered towards the door. “Shall I meet you there?”

“Yup!” I called out as I shut the cupboard, shorts in hand.

The boy left before I could even give him a glance. As soon as I heard the door shut behind him I buried my face in the black fabric. I shouldn’t be so surprised, I’ve given Komaeda a few gifts before that I’d collected. I just...never expected anything back. Especially not something like this. A gift so...considerate.

Komaeda is the exact opposite of considerate. Especially not of people’s feelings.

But he had been so incredibly considerate today. Was he finally starting to settle into the realisation that we weren’t going to die here?

God I never know what that guy is thinking.

I pulled off my shirt and wiggled the binder over my head. It was a bit hard to get on since it was a pullover rather than the hooked side ones I usually wear.

I pulled the bunched up fabric down over my belly. Man you really couldn’t tell. Usami had done a great job with this.

I pulled off my shorts and swapped them out for the board shorts.

I was finally going to be able to fit in.

I was finally going to be able to cool off with everyone else.

I was finally going to not be bullied by Saionji!

Actually, no that probably wasn’t going to stop.

I left my cabin, not bothering to lock the door behind me as I made my way to the pool. I was absolutely brimming with confidence and excitement.

Since the pool wasn’t far away, it barely took me more than a minute to get there. Komaeda was already waiting, sitting on the pool's edge and dangling his legs into the water.

“Hinata-kun! You look good.” The boy smiled after eyeing me up and down.

I scratched the back of my neck, a bit embarrassed to be receiving a genuine compliment from Komaeda, instead of the usual self-deprecating ones he made.

“Thanks, I guess?” I sat myself down beside him and let my legs hang down into the water. Unlike the sea, the pool was heated and pleasant.

The sun was going down over the island and the sky was awash with a beautiful shade of gold. The water reflected the sky, creating a pool of yellow.

“I think I should be admiring the sky right now, but all I can think about is the fact the pool looks like it’s full of piss.”

I snapped my head to my left, unable to believe what I just heard. Did Komaeda just...make a dirty joke?

“I was just thinking the same thing...” I smiled at the other teen as he swished his pale legs in the water.

“If that is the case...first one in the pool is the piss boy.” Komaeda grinned an evil smile as I felt him shove me hard in the back.

Oh it is on.

I pulled my legs out of the water and jumped up to my feet almost simultaneously with Komaeda. I charged at his waist, hoping to knock the boy down. The boy dodged my attack, leaving me running past him.

“Be careful Hinata, you wouldn’t want to get hurt!” Komaeda called as I turned back in his direction.

“If I do it’ll be your fault!” I called back as I dashed at him once again.

Komaeda went to dodge but I expected it this time. I wrapped my arms tightly around his waist and lifted him into the air, slinging the boy over my shoulder. He screamed and banged his fists against my back.

“Help!! Hinata-kun is trying to murder me!!” He squealed like a little kid.

“Shut up piss boy.” I chuckled to myself as I got ready to throw him into the deep end.

Just as I began to swing Komaeda forward, he stop banging his fists and instead wrapped his arms tightly around my waist.

Huh?

The velocity of me swinging his legs forward threw me off balance and I stumbled forward. I tried to recover but my foot slipped on the edge of the pool and I fell in headfirst with the skinny boy still clinging to my waist.

SPLASH

The arms around my waist released as I swam up to the surface to get a breath. As soon as I felt the cool air on my face I took a deep breath and broke out in laughter.

Komaeda surfaced up right beside me with a big grin on his face. “Piss boy.”

“What? I threw you in!”

“You’re the one who hit the water first through.”

“Only because I probably would have died if I didn’t!”

“Could you guys please shut the fuck up!”

Komaeda and I turned in the direction of the cabins, following the voice that had just interrupted us.

Owari stood on the boardwalk in a wide stance. “Some of us are trying to train!”

“I’m very sorry Owari-san!” Komaeda called out.

“Ya better be!” The Ultimate Gymnast yelled back as she began to walk back to her cabin.

Komaeda cupped a hand over his mouth in shock and turned back to me. “I can’t believe you got us in trouble Hinata-kun!”

“Me?! You’re the one who was screaming!” I hissed.

The boy removed his hand to reveal a childish grin. He was clearly just fucking with me at this point.

“I’ll kill you one of these days.” I muttered as I swam over to the edge of the pool.

“It would be an honour.” Komaeda jeered back as he followed me close behind.

I rested my shoulders against the edge of the pool. The other boy simply settled to tread water in front of me.

“Tell me Hinata, what are you into?”

“What am I into? Well I like kusamochi... and manga?”

“Not like that. What are you in to? Who are you in to?”

Huh? What a weird question for him to pop right now.

“Oh, right... I’m not really sure. I don’t have any experience to go on. ”

“You don’t have any experience? Have you never dated anyone?”

“Oh you’re talking about dating...I’ve dated a girl before.”

“Really? I could totally see you going for a busty girl like Owari.”

“Owari’s kind of odd...sure she has amazing tits but her world is so different from mine.”

“I see. So you are into women?”

“Sure, I guess so.”

“Are you into men as well?”

I pressed my fist to my chin in thought, was I into men? I never really gave my sexuality much thought.

“I’m not really into like...manly men...no wait scratch that...I think I might be into dudes...” I mumbled.

“So you’re bi then?” Komaeda questioned.

‘I honestly think I’m just horny.’ Is the answer I wanted to give, but I don’t know if I’m close enough with Komaeda to talk about sexual habits.

So I settled for a simple “Yeah.”

“Good.” The other smiled.

Good?

I finally noticed that the sun had set long ago and it was really starting to get dark.

“Should we head back? I think I’ve thoroughly tested the binder at this point.

Komaeda nodded and pulled himself up out of the water, resting on the tiling surrounding the pool’s edge. I followed suit and clambered to my feet.

“Say, Hinata-kun...” The boy’s voice was quiet.

Komaeda was staring up at the night sky, I followed his eyes and looked as well.

“Hm?”

“Do you ever get the feeling that this isn’t real?”

I looked back to him. Pool water sparkled at the corner of his eyes, maybe they were tears?

“Way too often.” I whispered.

I offered a hand to Komaeda, which he accepted. He rose to his feet but didn’t let go of my hand.

Huh. This is weird.

“I just cannot believe that all the pain and suffering I’ve been through suddenly ended once I started going to Hope’s Peak. There’s absolutely no way.” The boy mumbled as he stared up at the night sky.

I squeezed his hand reassuringly and sighed. “I can’t believe I’m going to Hope’s Peak. I obviously didn’t win the lottery and no matter what I try I can’t find any semblance of a talent in me.”

“I bet your talent is something amazing, Hinata-kun. No, I’m sure of it.” Komaeda pulled his head back to smile at me.

His words made my chest fill with butterflies. It felt like nobody had ever had faith in me like this before.

“Maybe you finally hit a lucky streak?” I attempted to reassure him as best I could.

“You’re sweet, Hinata-kun.” Komaeda placed a bony hand on my cheek. “But it really doesn’t work like that.”

I could feel his warm breath on my lips. Oh my god he is way too close.

“Want to do the teenage thing and fuck about it?”

“What?” Komaeda's grey eyes widened in shock.

Oh my god that was out loud I actually said that Jesus Christ this is meant to be a solemn moment and I just nuked it with my stupid hormones.

“I-I didn’t mean to say that...I am so so-“ I was promptly cut off by Komaeda planting his lips on mine.

Huh?

What?

My mind began to race as the other boy stroked my cheek with his thumb. I really didn’t expect this...but I did not hate it whatsoever.

I brought my hand up to the back of Komaeda’s head and kissed him back. His lips were so soft, I felt a bit embarrassed about how chapped and dry my own were. The other boy didn’t seem to care though as he sucked at them excitedly.

The kiss was broken when I moaned into his mouth. Komaeda pulled away with a deep blush and stared into my eyes.

“Your cabin or mine?” He breathed

“Yours, there’s sand all over my bed.”

The boy nodded and grabbed my wrist, beginning to drag me along behind him. I followed in close pursuit, my brain screaming at me to stop before I ruined a good thing. Komaeda had put his faith in me and opened up about his feelings so I was going to take advantage of that and fuck him?

We stepped into Komaeda’s cabin together, he promptly shut and locked the door behind us. He stared at me for a few seconds, probably coming to the shock that we were actually going to do this.

“I-I’m so sorry. We don’t actually have to do this...” I rubbed my arm somewhat embarrassed.

“No, I want to. I just...I know absolutely nothing about how to make you feel good.” Komaeda mumbled.

“I don’t know anything about how to make you feel good either.” I forced an awkward smile.

“I guess it’s a first time for both of us then?” Komaeda reciprocated that smile.

This got uncomfortable real fast.

I sighed and dragged Komaeda over to his bed. He obediently sat down in anticipation.

“Lie on your back with your knees bent.” I ordered, a mix of frustration and excitement swirling in my gut.

The boy followed my orders. I sat myself at the end of his legs and wrapped my fingers under the waistband of his shorts.

God they really didn’t hide anything.

The tent Komaeda was pitching was bigger than I expected from him. I slowly pulled his shorts down off his ass.

The boy lifted his hips and straightened his legs in an attempt to help me wiggle his sticky shorts off. His dick sprung free and I managed to pull his shorts all the way off.

Oh my god he had a nice dick.

I must have been staring for a while because Komaeda piped up. “Is there something wrong with it?”

“No, the opposite actually.” I placed my hands on his knees and spread his legs.

Komaeda obeyed and I settled between them, wrapping my fingers carefully around his cock. His skin was cold from the pool but the blood pumping made his dick warm. I heard a quiet gasp escape his lips as I gently stroked down him.

“Hinata-kun, I can tell you’re trying not to hurt me but you’re barely touching it.” Komaeda stated bluntly.

I looked up at his face and felt my own flush red. The teen sat up and placed his own hand over mine, moving my hand to grip tighter and jerk a bit faster.

“Ooh...that’s good.” Komaeda moaned out, letting go of my hand and laying back down.

I felt like I was really starting to get the hang of it. Komaeda’s hips rolled up into my hands occasionally as he moaned in ecstasy.

I wanted to make him feel even better.

I pressed my lips to the tip of his dick, sucking at the precome leaking out of it.

“Ahh, you don’t have to do that.” Komaeda smiled down at me.

I ignored his words and pressed the head of his cock into my mouth. Komaeda’s hips shot up in an involuntary twitch, forcing his cock further into my mouth.

I nearly bit down in surprise, instead opting to steady his hips.

“Hinata-kun I’m so sorry...I’ve never been on the receiving end of something like this before.” Komaeda’s fingers gripped the sheets of his bed tightly as he panted.

I hummed softly in reassurance as I stroked at what I hadn’t fit in my mouth, slowly inching it in. The teen moaned with eyes squeezed shut.

Komaeda’s hips wiggled under my grip. “This feels so much better than I ever imagined it! Ah you really do spark hope in everyone around you!”

I hollowed out my cheeks and dragged my lips up and off his cock, leaving with a pop . “Better than you ever imagined?”

The boy looked down to me and nodded. “I’ve fantasised about this since the day you asked me to hang out with you.”

My cheeks filled with heat immediately. “Seriously?”

“I must admit however after today the fantasy did change slightly.” Komaeda tapped a finger against his chin.

My heart sunk a bit. “In a bad way?”

“No not really. You’d be amazed how little my plans changed.” The boy smiled as he sat himself up slightly.

Plans? Oh god if I pressed any further this would never end. I pressed the Komaeda's cock back into my mouth and squeezed his balls slightly, eliciting a gasp from his mouth.

His hand stroked into my hair, finally a sign I was doing the right thing. Komaeda pushed my head down slightly, encouraging me to take more in.

I swallowed around him, the taste of salty precome and chlorine ever present in my mouth. Komaeda moaned loudly and pushed down even harder on my head.

Too far!!!

I gagged as his dick hit the back of my throat. Komaeda just moaned louder and pulled my head up slightly. His fingers were pulling at my hair at this point, it hurt like a bitch.

But I can't deny that I was really enjoying the rough handling.

I could feel my thighs starting to get sticky with warmth. I was so turned on as the boy shoved my head back onto his dick again. This time I didn’t gag, but did choke as he blocked my airway.

“You don’t seem to be very good at this, Hinata-kun.” Komaeda’s tone had changed. It was deeper than before, dripping with lust.

I slid my tongue across the underside of his cock, making the boy gasp and moan.

“Faster.”

I pulled my head off his cock slightly before taking him back in in a bobbing motion. This seemed to really get him going as he released the tight grip on my hair.

I hollowed my cheeks and kept the movement up. Komaeda moaned over and over again as he bucked his hips up with my movements.

“Ah, Hinata-kun, I think I’m going to cum.”

I had totally accepted my fate that he was going to cum in my mouth. It wasn’t going to taste good, but it was going to make cleanup easier.

Komaeda gripped my hair tightly and pulled my head completely off his dick.

Or maybe not?

He took his cock in his hand and stroked quickly until hot cum splattered onto my face. I was so fucking shell-shocked as I watched him ride out his orgasm, moaning, panting,

and cumming on my face.

Once he had completely milked his dick of all he could he exhaled loudly and smiled wide. His fingers were still tight in my hair as he pulled my face up to kiss him.

He licked the cum off my lips and kissed sloppily. My mouth was so full of saliva I thought I was drowning.

The classic porn-star move really wasn’t that sexy.

This whole first time thing wasn’t all that sexy.

But maybe I’m just too in my own head.

I pressed my tongue into Komaeda’s mouth, licking the bitter cum off his own. He moaned into my mouth as I pushed him back down onto the bed.

It was suffocating and hot. Drool dripped down our chins as we refused to pull apart for anything. I needed this. He needed this.

Komaeda pressed his knee up into my crotch. I ground up against him with a high moan.

The other finally broke the kiss. “I should probably repay the favour.”

“Please.” I breathed hot air against his lips.

Komaeda grabbed me by the hips and switched our positions, placing him on top. Seeing the boy above me made me even more desperate.

“Komaeda...” I panted.

“Yes?”

“Do you mind if I clean up a bit before we do this?”

“Ah, of course.”

The skinny boy moved himself off me and laid down beside. I sat up and shuffled off the bed.

“You really shouldn’t cum on people’s faces.” I muttered as I picked up a shirt from the floor.

Komaeda looked somewhat disappointed. “But you look so handsome with cum on your face.”

I pouted and walked into the bathroom, half shutting the door behind myself. I picked up a hand towel and began to run it under the sink.

Whilst waiting for the towel to get completely wet, I glanced up into the mirror. White fluid sat on my forehead and had been streaked on my nose and cheeks, probably from out aggressive makeout. My hair was ruffled and sticking up every which-way.

I turned off the tap and wiped the hand towel on my face, ridding myself of any trace of Komaeda’s... god even thinking of a word for it was embarrassing.

I slipped the swim binder off over my head and switched it out for the T-shirt I had collected off Komaeda’s floor.

It was a pink T-shirt I had never seen him wearing before. On the front was a cartoon picture of a white rabbit.

Cute…

I removed my board-shorts and left my half-dry boxers on. It felt too brazen to walk out without them.

I stepped out of the bathroom to see the fluffy haired boy waiting patiently on the bed.

“Huh. Why is it you look so much hotter when you’re wearing my clothes?” Komaeda grinned a toothy smile as I laid down next to him.

“Y’know I wondered the same thing earlier today.” It wasn’t quite the same thing but it was a similar thought.

Komaeda stared into my eyes for a moment before nestling his head into my neck and sucking at the skin. I gasped at the sensation and moved closer.

The boy’s hand pulled my shirt up slightly and settled on my tummy. I couldn’t help but giggle at how foreign and sweet the sensation was.

Komaeda peppered kisses up my jaw until he was breathing hot air into my ear, making me shiver.

“I really like you, Hinata Hajime.”

An involuntary moan left my lips upon hearing my given name from him. The hand he had on my tummy had snaked up to my ribs.

“Is there anything you’re uncomfortable with?” Komaeda whispered as he drew circles on my skin. “I figure I should ask before I cum on your face or something.”

I giggled and placed my hand over his, moving it up slightly so that my breast was now resting in his hand. “Touch what you want. Don’t take the shirt off.”

Komaeda nodded and squeezed my boob, the sensation causing me to bury my face in his chest with a huff. The boy squeezed a nipple between two fingers, making me moan quietly.

“You really do have bara titties.” He smiled wide at his words.

“Shut uuuup!” I whined into his skin.

Komaeda let go and trailed his fingers down to my boxers. It was nerve-wracking and exciting all the while.

“You own a lot of underwear with flowers, Hinata-kun.” Komaeda mumbled as he slid his fingers beneath the elastic.

“I like flowers.” I mumbled, somewhat embarrassed.

“Should I mention I jerked off in the ones you gave me?”

“Hey those were my favourite pair!”

“I was just so grateful that Hinata-kun would give me a pair of his underwear.”

“Give? I want them back.”

“Even though I masturbated in them?”

“Yes!”

I puffed out my cheeks in a pout as I looked up at Komaeda. My train of thought was quickly interrupted by fingers pressing themselves against my wet folds.

“Oh my.” Komaeda’s voice was quiet.

That reaction alone was enough to send me spiralling in embarrassment. I planted my face in Komaeda’s shoulder as he let his fingers make their acquaintance with my nether regions.

“I’m going to take off your underwear, is that alright?”

“Yeah.” I squeaked out.

Komaeda sat up and shuffled himself down the bed to the ends of my legs. He hooked bony fingers around the elastic of my boxers and pulled them down and off my ankles.

I bent my knees and spread my legs. The boy gripped my thighs, squeezing them slightly.

“It is normal for your legs to be wet as well?” Komaeda ran his fingers through the juices on my thighs.

“I uh- if I’m really in the mood... I guess so yeah.” I stuttered out. “You’re really hot Nagito.”

The boy between my legs laughed and licked my left thigh. I yelped at the sudden sensation of a tongue so close to my vagina.

Two fingers rubbed carefully around my entrance, making me whine impatiently.

“Hinata-kun. Instead of making erotic noises could you tell me what you’d like me to do?” Komaeda’s voice stern, I felt like I was being scolded by a teacher.

“You can have a go at fingering me if you’d like?” It felt like my face was going to melt with this heat.

Komaeda didn’t hesitate to push two fingers in, coaxing a moan from my throat. He rubbed his fingers up against my walls with little grace.

“It’s so warm inside you...”

“The commentary isn’t necessary! Komaeda!”

The boy curled his fingers hard into one spot that make me moan loudly. My hips arched off the bed as I slid a hand down to massage my clit.

“Oh fuck do that that again please.” I moaned through gritted teeth.

“This?” Komaeda rubbed his fingers against the spot again, applying more pressure than before.

I squealed out as stars sparkled at the edge of my vision. “Oh my God Nagito please make me cum!”

With that sentence Komaeda instantly pulled out his fingers.

I whined in frustration as Komaeda placed his hand over the one that had been rubbing small circles into my clit.

“This feels good too, doesn’t it?” He inquired.

I nodded and he pulled my hand away. Was he trying to starve me of all pleasure? That dick.

And then he replaced my hand with his mouth.

I moaned involuntarily as he licked at my clit unashamedly. The way his lips sucked at it had me grinding my hips up into his mouth within seconds.

“Sh-shit are you sure you’ve never done this before? It feels amazing.” I moaned breathlessly.

Komaeda looked at me with half lidded eyes and suddenly I felt his tongue move downwards, pressing into my hole. I could have died of embarrassment right then and there if it didn’t feel so fucking good. His tongue was so warm as it stoked my walls, making me throw my head back against the pillows in pleasure.

And then he went back to it, that spot that made me feel so good.

The sensation was completely different this time around. I could practically feel the taste buds on his tongue pressing against it. I cried out and began to rub small, slow circles into my clit again.

“Oh my god Nagit-ooh please keep going.” I panted as a pressure began to build in my gut.

Clearly Komaeda got the message because he kept up the pace, I was practically writhing as small moans escaped with each exhale and pant.

“Please babe please I’m so cl-ose!”

I rubbed my clit a bit faster, my circular movements were getting messier by the second. Pants and high-pitched moans got shorter and faster until-

I was absolutely drowned in pleasure.

My vision went white and the world went silent as I grabbed at Komaeda’s hair. I ground my hips into my other hand, rising out my orgasm with the help of the other boy.

The adrenaline wore off and I collapsed against the pillows. I could faintly hear Komaeda laughing as I shut my eyes.

“Oh my, Hinata-kun.”

‘Oh my’ god he loved to say that.

“Oh my what?” My voice was a bit hoarse from all the moaning.

Komaeda was looking up my from between my legs, I hadn’t even noticed him stop tongue-fucking me. His chin glistened with fluids, most likely drool and...me.

He wore the most childish grin on his face. “All your erotic noises have me hard again.”

I sat up and pouted. “I’m not sucking your dick again, you have no self control.”

“Ah, is this about the ‘cumming on the face’ thing?”

“More the ‘aggressive face-fucking’.”

“Are you not meant to do that?”

“I mean, sometimes you are but you really should not if you haven’t agreed to it.”

“Huh. There are many men out there who do not know this fact.”

“Really?”

“I’ve been face-fucked numerous times and nobody ever asked me if they could.”

“Wait wait wait wait wait.” I crawled up to Komaeda on my hands and knees. “I need more context.”

The boy crossed his arms in thought. “I was about 15? It was at a party. Lots of alcohol, lots of older boys.”

I sat eagerly waiting to hear this story. Knowing how all of Komaeda’s stories went, this is going to be a fucked up one that shaped him in some way.

“And I was chatting with a guy, he was about 17. I was really interested in him. We were talking about party tricks. I mentioned that I had no gag reflex and he-“

“YOU WHAT?”

“I don’t have a gag reflex?”

To prove his point, Komaeda shoved two fingers down his throat. I shuddered at the sight, he truly was the ideal gay man.

“God now I’m riled up again. Finish your story.”

Komaeda seemed somewhat pleased. “Well he asked me if I would suck his dick, I said yes. We agreed to meet in the bathroom in 10 minutes time. When I got there, there were 4 other guys as well!”

“Oh god.” I muttered

“So I got face-fucked by 5 guys!”

“Ko that’s awful.”

“I think otherwise. It was one of the best nights of my life.”

I mustn’t have done a very good job at hiding my horror because Komaeda laughed a sickly cackle.

“You’re so gross.” I sighed, flashing him a weak smile.

The boy ceased his laughter. “And you’re everything but gross, Hinata-kun. I’m surprised you let trash like me even touch you.”

“I’d fuck a lot more trash if it was as good as you.” I cradled his chin in my hand and wiped away some of the fluids coating his mouth.

“That’s not very hygienic, Hinata-kun.”

“Shut up.” I planted a kiss firmly onto his lips.

Komaeda gave me a small smile and placed his hands on my hips. “So, I’m still hard. Want to go for round two?”

“Hell yeah.”

#Good LORD i did not realise how old this was #All I can say is that I am glad people enjoyed this #Danganronpa #Komahina #inappropriate #Komaeda Nagito #Hinata Hajime #Fanfiction #Ficgiri

27 notes · View notes