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wolveria · 4 years

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Blue Moon - Chapter 1

Pairing: Android werewolf!Nines x Reader

Summary: It was Halloween night when you stumbled across the android that looked more monster than machine. Damaged and alone, you didn't have the heart to leave him behind.

You'd always had a weakness for strays.

Prompt: Inspired by art!

Warnings: Rated E, eventual smut, Zlatko experimentation, monster romance

AO3

You pulled your coat closer in a useless attempt to ward off the cold. Winter had decided to make an appearance early this year as snow laid on the ground, and you lamented over the fact you’d chosen to walk home instead of take a taxi. The coffee shop was only a couple blocks away from your apartment, but it felt like a cross country trek as your breath billowed out of your mouth.

The wind rustled through the trees and you shuddered again. The park you’d taken a shortcut through was a good size, and you could no longer see the streetlights that signaled civilization was near.

Why had you decided to do this, again? And on Halloween night? Not that you believed in the paranormal or anything—

You dropped your nearly-empty coffee cup, the last drops spilled and forgotten on the footpath. A pair of glowing blue eyes stared out at you from the underbrush around the base of a tree.

Before you could think to scream, a low whine came from the bush. You placed your hand over your heart and let out a long breath, smiling faintly. It was just a dog, that was all. And the light from the full moon must be making its eyes glow like that. Yes, that’s all it was.

“It’s all right,” you said, offering your hand in what you hoped was a friendly manner, praying it didn’t have rabies. “Come here, boy.”

There was a low thudding noise accompanied by the brush moving. A sad, fluffy tail thumping against the ground.

You gave a sympathetic “awwww” and lightly patted your thighs, hoping to coax it out of its hiding place.

“You poor thing. Are you cold? I bet you’re hungry. Come here, sweetie, let’s get you some… food…”

Your voice trailed off as the glowing pair of blue eyes rose, higher and higher—definitely not at canine level—before it stepped out of the shadows.

It was huge, or at least seemed that way when you’d been expecting a large dog at most. Standing on two legs, it reached over six feet easily, not including the wolfish ears that stuck up from its head. With blue-black fur, sharp nails and a hint of teeth peeking out from its lips, you would have never guessed it was an android if not for the spinning yellow ring at its temple.

The android was also completely naked, not a stitch of clothing to be seen, and you quickly snapped your eyes back up to its face, face flushing at the sheer size of what you’d seen.

It—he took a hesitant step toward you, and if you’d had any of your senses left, you would have run. Android or not, you were fairly certain you were about to be murdered and eaten, and not necessarily in that order.

But your joints were locked, your limbs frozen, and all you could do was watch as the android bent down and wrapped a clawed hand carefully around your discarded coffee cup. Stepping directly in front of you, he slowly held the cup out, his ears laid flat as if afraid you were going to whack him with a rolled up newspaper.

You glanced from face to his outstretched hand. That was when you caught sight of the gash across his ribcage, the exposed internal circuits glittering in the dark.

You’d always had a soft spot for injured animals. And while he might not be an animal, per se, it was close enough that you gently took the coffee cup and gave him a soft thank you.

His ears perked and his tail wagged hopefully as he retracted his hand. He continued the slow wag of his tail as he stared at you expectantly. It took you a minute to realize what he was waiting for. He was, after all, an android, and a canine-like one at that.

He was waiting for orders.

“Are you lost?” you asked. Was he even programmed to talk? “Where do you live? Do you need help getting back home?”

You almost asked who his owner was, but it didn’t feel right. You suspected you’d made the right decision when the question had him folding his ears back, his floofy tail dipping towards the ground.

“Uh, that’s okay.” You tried you best at a soothing smile. “The police station isn’t far from here. I can take you there—“

It was precisely the wrong thing to say; his LED went red and he winced as if you’d slapped him. You weren’t at all prepared for him to open his mouth, and a raspy, rough voice to come out.

“No. Please. Not there.”

You gawked up at him, hardly believing what you’d heard with your own ears, but the android could definitely talk. As strange as he looked, he was capable of communicating his wants.

…and you’d heard rumors about the kinds of androids that wanted.

Carefully you glanced around, but no one else had come across the two of you. It was lucky it was Halloween when most people would be trick-or-treating or handing out candy; the last thing you needed was to be caught in the middle of the night, in a park, with a strange, naked android.

“Okay. No police station.” You rubbed at your arms as you glanced him over, immediately regretting it as your sight dipped below his belly button. Looking away resolutely, you offered, “Why don’t you come back to my place, just for tonight? Get you some clothes and then… we can have a talk.”

Finally, you had said the right thing. His ears went all perky and his tail wagged its fastest yet, but most of all, his LED went blue for the first time. It was the same shade as his glowing eyes.

You gulped. This was such a fucking bad idea.

“I would like that,” he said, voice all soft and gentle. And just like that, you were a goner. No turning back now.

“Come on,” you sighed, stepping around him to continue in the direction of your apartment. It was a bit silly still hanging onto the empty coffee cup, but all you could focus on was the near-silent footfalls behind you as you tried to come up with the best way to sneak a naked android werewolf into your apartment.

***

As it turned out, dealing with the android was a lot less surreal when he had clothes on, even if it was a pair of sweatpants and a tight sweater that barely fit him. You’d have to order some clothes for him tomorrow

If he even wanted to hang around that long. You were under no illusion that if he wanted to leave, you wouldn’t be able to stop him, but for now he seemed content to stay.

The android was currently standing in your living room, fussing with the hem of the sweater that barely covered his waistline. You covered your mouth with your fingers in a poor attempt to hide a smile. Now that you were confident he wasn’t going to eat you, the android was actually quite adorable. You’d even cut out a hole in the back of the pants for him to pull his tail through.

You plopped down onto the couch and padded the cushion next to you. It had been a long time since you’d had a houseguest, and it said a lot about your state of loneliness that you were excited over having a strange android for company.

Said android stared at you for a moment before perching, quite primly, at the other end of the couch. The fact he had to move his tail out of the way before he sat down ruined the composed image he was trying to convey.

He really was very odd, and not just because of all the wolfy bits. This android seemed very much alive, a fact that should have had you picking up the phone to call the authorities. But… you didn’t.

Instead, you bombarded him with questions. What was his name? Where did he come from? Was he a custom model? How had he been injured? The wound looked ghastly, but he hardly noticed it. You made a mental note to add Thirium and android chassis repair sealant to the shopping list. You’d never owned an android before, but you’d always been fascinated with them and knew the basics of what they needed.

“RK900,” was his answer to your first question. He skipped over to the third. “I am… I was a prototype created by CyberLife to assist law enforcement. It would be safer for you if I said nothing further.”

Unable to imagine an android like this working with the police, you guessed he’d looked different, before. More like a standard android instead of one so altered he was nearly unrecognizable.

“Okay, I won’t pry,” you said, amassing all your willpower not to assault him with more questions, the biggest one being why do you look like something out of my deepest, darkest, most shameful wetdream? Yes, you were definitely not venturing into that territory.

Your next question was caught on a yawn, and you looked away as your face grew warm. He was just an android, why were you being so self-conscious about every little thing you did?

It could have been the way he’d watched you ever since you’d stumbled across him in the bushes: laser-like focus that never broke. It didn’t help that the sclera of his eyes were black, making the blue stand out even more.

Also, he didn’t blink. Like, ever.

“I’m gonna head to bed.” You thumbed over your shoulder toward the hallway. “Will you be all right out here? Do you need anything?”

“Yes,” he said. “And no.”

You were picking up on his mannerisms very quickly. He over-enunciated and spoke with perfect grammar. It was in direct contrast to the way his sharp nails toyed with the sweater, or the way his ears would swivel at sounds you barely noticed. At some points in the conversation, he would tilt his head at you in a way that was so dog-like, you had to keep fighting down the smiles. You’d definitely never met an android like this one before, even if he had looked perfectly human.

“I will be fine,” the RK900 added when you continued to stare. “I will rest and repair. I have neglected to enter stasis mode for… quite some time now.”

His eyes dropped to the carpet, demeanor evasive and uncomfortable. It took everything you had not to reach out and pet him on the head.

“I shouldn’t intrude in your personal space. I will be gone in the morning.”

And then you did reach out, placing your hand on his arm. He was solid and surprisingly warm under the fabric of the sweater.

He stared at your hand for a moment before slowly lifting his head to meet your eye. His expression was so… sad. You had no doubt it was authentic, and that you were right about what he was.

“Please, you don’t have to go.” Your voice was soft, ensuring it was a suggestion and not a command. “You’re more than welcome to stay. I want to help you. Will you let me do that?”

The ring on his temple was a solid yellow and you nearly pulled your hand back, but then it went blue and he gave a small nod. You sighed with relief and gave him a gentle pat before letting him go.

“Thank you.” You rose to your feet, stretching to get the kinks out of your shoulders. It was stressful bringing a wayward android home. “I’m just down the hall if you need me. See you in the morning.”

Before you made it to the hallway, you paused and half-turned.

“Do you have a name?”

He blinked up at your question.

“I mean, I know RK900 is your model number, but… you have a name, don’t you?”

His ears drooped. You were learning they were a better indicator of his thoughts than the color of his LED.

“No. CyberLife never gave me one.”

Of course they wouldn’t, you thought, not the first time you’d unhappy with the way androids were treated. CyberLife was by far the worst. Why would they care about any of their merchandise?

“Well, maybe you can come up with one.” You hoped he understood the things you weren’t saying aloud, that you understood what he really was beneath the strange exterior.

His ears perked up and his expression softened.

“That… would be nice.”

Before you could say anything to embarrass yourself, or worse, run over to him and give him a hug, you excused yourself to get ready for bed. Already your mind was going through a checklist of all the things you’d need to care for an android in the long-run, and that was being optimistic. The RK900 could still change his mind. There was still so much you didn’t know.

It wasn’t until you shut off the lights and stared at the ceiling that the implications of your actions truly hit you. You’d seen the news reports, read the independent websites that couldn’t be suppressed by CyberLife. There were androids out there, said to be “lethally malfunctioning,” that were disobeying and turning on their humans.

One of the most common signs to watch out for was mimicry of human emotions. Anger, was the main one, but there was also fear. And that was something you’d seen a lot of tonight shining out of the RK900’s eyes.

You weren’t just harboring an android that looked like a werewolf.

You were sheltering a deviant.

#nines x reader #rk900 x reader #detroit become human #werewolf nines #werewolf android nines #zlatko experiment nines #click on the artwork to see what he actually looks like #but this is still a great screenshot #my writing #my fanfiction

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noladyme · 4 years

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Chess. Chapter 6

Y/N never hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it. She only took what she needed, or what she felt others needed. She’d stayed out of sight for a long time, avoiding anything that could get her in to too much trouble. But for some reason Rick Flag shows up in her life, and in an instant, everything changes.

TW: Violence, language, sexual themes, blood

(This story is obviously non-canon, i.e. Diablo and GQ, but I hope you’ll enjoy it either way. Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list.)

“St. Roch, Louisiana. We’re staying in our own backyard”. Flag was reading from a tablet; as we were taken through a long hallway, leading from the cellblock, to what seemed to be a large garage.

I had a guards pistol aimed at me, as it’s owner followed my every move, with cold eyes.

I had spent the rest the day before, trying to wrap my mind around my new situation.

I was officially a prisoner at Belle Reve – a high security penitentiary, in the sweatiest asscrack of the Louisiana swamps. I was there for the kidnapping and assault of judge Jeremiah Kelper.

The assault and maiming had been of such a horrible nature, that I was committed to this facility, without trial. My conviction was a formality, as I apparently confessed to the guards of Belle Reve, the night of my arrival.

I was to serve life, without parole.

There was no mention of the incident in Wayne Tower in my file.

Unofficially, I was the newest member of Task Force X, a top-secret group of meta-humans, and people with exceptional skills, required to complete missions of a classified nature.

These individuals also happened to all be convicted felons, and the scum of the earth.

There was Floyd Lawton; a.k.a. Deadshot. The man who never missed a shot. During dinner – sloppy joes, yum… – he’d shown me a picture of a cute 8 year old girl, who had his eyes.

“She’s a bit older now, writes me every day. She just got an A on her biology report!”, he’d exclaimed proudly. It was clear Floyd loved his daughter, more than anything.

Killer Croc – Waylon Jones. He was huge, terrifying; and made me feel safer than I had in weeks, just by his presence. Croc – as he insisted on being called – had won me over, by calling me cher’.

I’d talked to him about Sammy, and recounted some of the trucker stories he’d told me.

After Croc’d told me he’d once eaten a truckdriver, he said: “I’m glad it wasn’t your boss. He seems like a decent guy”.

I’d been surprised by the gentle and kind demeanor of Chato Santana; or, Diablo, as they called him. I’d seen a videoclip on the news once, of him torching a group of inmates at a prison he was held at. I thought he’d be a hothead – pun intended – but he turned out to be calm and remorseful about his violent past.

Harley. Now, she was a different story. She was about as calm as a puppy on poppers. She also seemed to have no remorse for anything she’d done, as the sidekick and girlfriend of the Joker. I was equal parts terrified and enthralled by her person.

She’d spent most of the rest of the day, singing lullabies to a picture of a hyena, and doing her nails. Once, she’d disappeared for about an hour, before returning to her former activities, with a satisfied smile plastered over her pretty face.

We soon discovered what Harley had been doing, when the napping Digger Harkness – Captain Boomerang, the australian – suddenly screamed; jumping up and down, scratching at his body.

“Ants! Bloody fire ants!”, he’d yelped with a shrill voice; running towards the bathroom.

He’d returned a while later, shaking his coat, and sending the giggling Harley a deadly look. His arms and neck were covered in tiny and angry red welts; that he’d scratched at for the rest of the day.

This was my new family. I was very aware that none of us had chosen to be here, but it seemed that we were all determined to make the best of it, until such an opportunity arose, that we’d be able to leave.

Apparently, Harley had tried to run multiple times – even having made it back to the Clown; and stayed of the grid for a few months, before arriving back at Belle Reve, with a pair of roller skates, and a taxidermized beaver.

I didn’t know when or if I’d be able to escape; so for now, I decided to settle in.

---

In the middle of the large garage stood a helicopter the size of a tank. In front of it stood six crates; each of our names written on the side of one of them.

The rest of the squad seemed to know the procedure. They opened their crates, and dug through them. Flag paced back and forth in front of us, carrying a machinegun.

“You know the deal”, he hollered. “Three weapons. Two ranged, one for close combat. Croc and Diablo, you are both the exceptions”. No weapons for them, I guessed.

“Oy, colonel”, Digger called.

“No, Digger”, Flag answered, before the aussie had a chance to ask. “Boomerangs do not count as close range, though they can be used as such. You bring two. No more”. Digger cursed under his breath.

They’d all been through this before. I couldn’t help but feel like it was the first day of school, and that I’d forgotten my backpack at home.

“You alright?”, Floyd asked from behind me.

“Yeah”, I answered. “It’s just…new. How do you do this? How do you work for these people, who treat you like shit, and then demand that you risk your lives for them?”. I bent to open my crate, and started going through the equipment in it.

“Look”, said Floyd. “Ain’t none of us here who wants to be here. Except for maybe Harley”, he smiled, and looked at the person in question.

She was swinging an oversized fairground hammer, almost knocking over a soldier who was busy checking out her ass.

“We do this, because we have to, for one reason or another”. He looked at me seriously. “I’m here for my little girl. Every time I finish one of these missions, I’m one step closer to seeing her again; and to show her that her daddy’s not a monster”.

I pulled out my jacket, stood up, and looked at it.

“You find whatever reason you need to do this, but make sure it’s important enough, not just to survive for, but to live for”, Floyd finished, patted my shoulder, and walked away.

I sighed and returned to my crate. I had no idea what in my life was important enough to live for at this point.

I didn’t have a family to protect or impress. That had all ended after Hatter had entered my life.

Sammy… he was a friend, but he’d be better of if I didn’t return. Ever.

That left my cats. But they were fine where they were.

So what?

I was interrupted in my train of thought by Flag, who suddenly appeared next to me.

“Hey. You need to get ready. Liftoff in 10”.

“Sir, yes, sir”, I retorted, and rolled my eyes.

I went behind a tall crate to change into my outfit. Leggings, top, boots, jacket; and finally, my claws. I tested the knives once, against the crate in front of me, carving through the thin metal easily.

Retracting the claws, I went to join the others.

Flag stopped me before I had a chance to enter the chopper with the rest of the crew.

“One last thing, Chess”, he said, and pulled out a strange looking harness, made out of some synthetic material and wires.

“What’s that?”, I asked, skeptically.

“This is an armed device, that will explode, should you decide to… smile, without being ordered to do so, by myself”.

I looked him, dumbfounded. “You’re gonna blow me up if I go invisible?”, I guffawed.

“No”, he answered. “I’ll blow that nano-bomb in your neck if you try to run away. This device will explode on it’s own, whenever its sensors recognize that you are using your powers”.

I shook my head, confused.

“If I’m not here to do that, then why am I here?”.

Flag used a strange key to unlock the harness.

“After what happened yesterday…” he started. I interrupted him.

“You mean when I didn’t run away?”, I spat.

He was unmoved by my exclamation.

“After what happened yesterday”, he repeated, “Waller seems to think it would be better if I take control of when you should… do your thing. You’ll be able to make things you touch invisible, as usual; but you cannot disappear yourself”.

He held up the newest addition to my outfit, to let me put it on.

“From now on, you will be wearing this whenever you are not in your cell. I can disarm the device at any time, for as long as I deem necessary”.

I stepped back, shaking my head.

“No”.

Flag frowned.

“Put it on”, he said, a slight edge to his voice.

“No”, I repeated, and crossed my arms in front of me.

Flag exhaled through his nose.

“Put it on, or I’ll put it on you myself”, he growled. I tilted my head, and raised my eyebrows at him.

“Is that a promise?”, I asked.

He raised his chin, and looked down at me.

“I can have one of GQs men do it”.

I ripped the harness from his hands, and begun to put it on; trying to figure out where each strap was supposed to go.

There were two straps, one going over each shoulder. One strap went around my torso, from my back to my front. Holding it all together, was one last strap, starting from my back, going down between my legs, and connecting with the others, on the middle of my chest.

Flag grabbed the straps in front of me, connecting them to a round disc, with a small red light in the middle. He tightened the harness as much as he could, making me bump against him; and locked the disc with the key.

“You go invisible; you die. You try to take it off; you die. You even think of trying to steal the key, guess what…”.

“I die?”, I jestered.

“You die”, he answered.

I tried to move around in the strange contraption.

“How am I supposed to pee in this?”, I asked angrily.

“We’ll climb that mountain when we get to it”, he answered, and turned his back to me, walking away.

“Old Fashioned”, I called after him. He turned around.

“What?”, he asked.

“If you’re gonna ride me this hard, it’s only polite to buy me a drink”, I said; turned my back to him, and walked away to join the squad.

---

Landing in St. Roch, our first destination was an old gas station just outside of town. It was abandoned by its owners; probably due to the explosions going off less than a mile away.

“You have your orders”, Flag called. “We go in discretely, locate our target, and take them out”.

“It’s probably going to be more complicated than that”, Diablo muttered next to me. Croc growled in agreement.

“You know, Flag, we’d probably be even more discrete, if you didn’t have Y/N here tied up like a Christmas ham”, Floyd smirked at him.

Flag frowned.

“This is Chess’ first mission. Let her find her legs before we throw her into it”, he said. “Let’s head out!”.

“Someone’s got a crush”, Harley said in a singsong voice, skipping past me.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”, I asked.

Digger chuckled, and followed her.

“She means, he wants a gander at your map of Tassie”, he winked back at me, and took a swig of the can of beer he’d taken from one of the fridges in the small store.

I shook my head, and feeling a machinegun between my shoulders – I was just thrilled that the Tweedles had joined us on this little fieldtrip – I followed the rest of the group.

Sneaking past a checkpoint – Floyd taking out the inhabitants from afar – we made our way downtown.

I heard crying from behind a dumpster, and stopped to see what it was. A young woman was hiding behind it; shaking in fear.

“Are you ok?”, I asked, reaching a hand towards her.

“Chess!”, Flag called, from a few yards away. “Get your ass over here”.

“She might need help”, I said, and stepped towards the crying woman.

She recoiled from my touch.

“No! Please leave me alone!”, she cried.

Floyd came up behind me.

“She’s afraid of us, Chess”, he said. “Just leave her alone”. He went back to the group, who continued down the street, leaving me alone with Flag and the terrified woman.

I backed away from her, a lump in my throat. Turning around, I walked up to Flag, trying desperately to hold back tears. Behind me, I heard the woman get up, and run down the street, away from us.

I looked up at Flag.

“I wasn’t going to hurt her”, I said quietly.

“I know”, he said shortly. “But she doesn’t”. He made to touch my shoulder; but changed his mind, straightened his back, and turned around.

“Let’s go, kitten”.

We joined the others.

“That was quick”, Harley smiled. “It’s ok, colonel. It happens to all men”.

“Lady, I will rip your pigtails off with my bare hands”, he growled at her, stomping to the front of the group.

“Never happened to me”, Croc winked at Harley, who beamed back at him.

Another checkpoint. Digger took care of this one.

Huddling up behind a couple of cars, we finally saw our target. A lieutenant of Ra’s Al Ghul, who had been stirring up trouble, laying the groundwork for a new stronghold for his master. They had chosen to set up shop in the town square; having tied up a group of around 10 hostages to a statue in the middle.

Flag started barking orders in a hushed voice.

“Alright. Floyd, you got the roofs. Keep in radio contact”. It was clear he trusted Floyd more than the rest of the group.

“Croc, see that van? Make sure anyone in it, and in the immediate vicinity of it, don’t have the chance to warn the target”. Croc went down on all fours, and disappeared into a nearby shrubbery.

“Diablo and Digger. I want you on each side of that building. If they do spot us; I want you to bottleneck them into that alley”, he said, pointing in the direction he meant. “GQ, you and your men join them. One on the flame, two on boomer”. Digger scoffed at the nickname.

“Harley; I want you… actually you just do whatever it is you do, without giving the rest of us away”, he sighed at her.

“Sure thing, boss”, she mock-saluted him. “Go team!”.

“You got your orders. Go!”, he finished; and the group scattered, each to their assigned positions.

“What am I supposed to do?”, I asked, feeling slightly left over.

“You stay on me”, he answered, and looked through his binoculars.

A few minutes went by. Hearing a growl from the direction of Crocs assigned post, I saw blood spatter on the inside of the windows of the van.

I heard Harleys voice yelling; “Batter up!”, followed by a clank and a loud scream.

Some of the lieutenants soldiers began scrambling.

“Goddamnit, Quinn!”, Flag cussed. “You! Stay here!”, he growled at me, and ran in the direction of Harleys voice, leaving behind his binoculars. I picked them up, and looked through them.

In the square, the soldiers were rigging up chains and wires around the hostages. Connected to the wires were multiple red sticks I recognized from movies I’d seen. Dynamite.

I looked in the direction Flag had gone. He and Harley were arguing quietly behind a bus.

I looked back at the town square. Our target was walking back and forth in front of the hostages, ranting about something I couldn’t make out.

I tried zooming in with the binoculars. Military tech for the win, I thought, and looked through them again.

In his hand, the lieutenant was holding what seemed to be a tablet. Large numbers read 5:00. The bastard walked up to a teenage boy, who had a stick of dynamite strapped to his chest. He put his hand on his cheek, and said something to him, that made the boy break down in tears. He then pressed a button on the screen. The numbers began to count down.

4:59.

4:58.

4:57…

Fuck!, I thought, and threw the binoculars on the ground.

Reminded of my harness, I rolled my eyes. Ok. So I couldn’t smile. But I did know how to move quietly and quickly. I pulled up my hood, and closed my jacket.

I snuck forward. I heard a gunshot and a grunt behind me, and looked back; seeing an enemy soldier on the ground, a bullet hole right between his eyes. Thanks, Floyd, I smiled up at the roof of a nearby building, seeing Deadshots white hood disappear back into the darkness.

I moved forward again, hiding behind a truck. A stone landed on the ground next to me; and looking in the direction of the thrower, I saw Flag waving at me.

“Get back!”, he mouthed at me angrily. I shook my head, and looked towards the hostages. Continuing forward, I suddenly heard a beep. Looking down, I saw the light on the disc on my chest turn from red to green.

Looking back at Flag – his wrist raised, pushing some buttons on what looked like a watch – I smirked, and nodded at him. Thanks, I thought.

A purr moving through my body; I smiled.

Readying my claws, I ran towards the square. A soldier looked in my direction, having heard my movement, but unable to see me. Oops. Quietly now, I thought, and scaled a car next to him, making as little sound as I could.

I saw Digger and the Tweedles running towards a group of soldiers exiting a building. They finished them of quickly, but not before having drawn enough attention to make the lieutenant aware of their presence.

He yelled something I couldn’t I understand, and dropped the tablet he had been holding.

Gunfire sounded, and I ran faster, making my way to the group of hostages.

I reappeared, startling a few of the hostages who screamed at me.

Picking up the tablet from the ground, I desperately began pushing the screen, trying to make the countdown stop.

2:35.

2:34.

2:33…

There was no way I could stop the detonation.

I spun around, ran to the statue, and began pulling at the wires.

“You’ll make it go off!”, the teenage boy from before shouted at me.

I ran to the back of the statue, finding a simple lock, holding together the two ends of the chain intertwined with the wires.

This I can handle, I smiled, and got out my kit.

I managed to break two of the lockpicks, my hands shaking from the stress of the situation. I looked at the tablet on the ground.

1:01.

1:00.

0:59…

Taking a deep breath, I gave it one more try. Please, please, please!.

The lock opened.

I grabbed one end of the chain, and ran with it around the statue, releasing the hostages. The teenage boy carefully pulled at the tape that held the stick of dynamite to his chest, and put the red stick gingerly on the ground.

“Thanks!”, he smiled at me, and ran. I smiled after him.

An elderly woman was having trouble keeping up with the others.

0:37.

0:36.

0:35…

“Just go on”, she yelled at me.

“No!”, I answered, and ran to put her arm around my neck. Stumbling a few steps forward, the woman was suddenly lifted from the ground, screaming, as Croc – with a smile plastered across his gruesome face – ran to safety, the old woman hanging over his shoulder.

We did it!, I thought, and went to run after him.

Someone grabbed my leg, holding me in place. Looking down, I saw the lieutenant – a gash across his face, and a gunshot to his chest – laughing up at me. His strong hands were holding on to my leg, making it impossible for me to move.

I looked towards the group waiting for me at a safe distance. The hostages were continuing down the street, running towards sirens and blinking lights.

0:15.

0:14.

0:13…

Flag screamed something at me, Edwards and his soldiers holding him back.

I yanked at my leg, desperately trying to get the dying man to let me go.

0:09.

0:08.

0:07…

I lifted my fist and screamed; cutting through my captors arm. He let go with a yelp; and I ran.

0:03.

0.02.

0:01…

0:00.....

Tag list:

@gloriousgam3r

@hyp-oh-critical

#rick flag #rick flag x reader #rick flag fic #rick flag imagine #suicide squad fic #suicide squad imagine #deadshot #harley quinn

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pokeheadcannons97 · 4 years

Note

Due to now knowing rules, can I request bede with a s/o who has a (f) meowstic not liking the relationship, and constantly getting in the way? Please and thank you!

I’m so sorry this took so long!!!! I really loved this ask! Thank you!!!!!

Bede had been overjoyed to receive your invitation of a day together in Circhester. The weather forecasted clear skies with a chance of seeing the aurora in the later hours of the night. He had a full itinerary of the places where the two of you should head to, to full enjoy your rare uninterrupted day together.

You had been busy with studies at your local college, completely swamped with schoolwork from the full sets of classes that you were currently taking. When you had a day off, he was busy with the onset of challengers at the gym. When he had a day off, you were occupied with homework and studying. Both of you had responsibilities that you couldn’t stray away from, so when the two of you both had a day off that lined up together, you decided to make the most of it.

Bede had arrived at the meeting spot early, he glanced up at the park clock which read a quarter to ten. The snow piled on the top of it as it ticked away quietly in the rush of cars and people in downtown Circhester.

He spotted a flower shoppe a few buildings down, an idea popping into his head.

—–

He handed the money to clerk as he told him which kinds of flowers to put into the bundle. Once picked and arranged he then chose a f/c ribbon to tie around in a large bow around the stems.

He carefully took the arrangement into his hands. “These look absolutely splendid, thank you.” He told the older shop owner who gave him a warm smile in return.

“Anytime kiddo, it’s not everyday that I get to work on an arrangement for a gym leader.” He replied with a hearty chuckle, wiping the trimmings into a waste basket below. “Let alone for one that’s going on a date.”

The blond blinked rapidly, his grasp on the flowers growing tighter. “Who said anything about it being a date?”

The man let out another chuckle, louder this time. “Oh please son, I’ve been in this business for many years, I know what a fella that’s about to go on a date looks like. You may be a gym leader but you’re still a youngin. Your face is about as red as these roses over here.” He gestured to the big, uncut rose stems he was lining up on his worktable.

Bede was about to protest about how rude it was to assume things when the owner spoke up again. “If you want to have a good look at the aurora tonight, I’d suggest heading up towards the gym. With you being a gym leader, Melony should be able to let you two watch from the roof on top there.” He gave the young boy a wink. “Just a suggestion from an old geezer like me.”

The boy looked down at the bouquet in his hands, then back up to the shop owner. He gave a slight swallow as he tried to make the redness of his cheeks go down. “I’ll see about it, thank you for the advice.” He raised the flowers up a little. “And the arrangement, I’m sure they’ll love it.”

The man gave a light hum in approval. “Take care kiddo.”

Bede walked back to the meet up spot, his pink boots crunching the freshly fallen snow below. It was embarrassing to be so easily read by a stranger. He was usually so used to having the upper hand, to have control of the situation… except when it came to you. You made him a mess, and only you could. Why else would he get these flowers fo-?

“Beeeeeeedeeeee!!”

He looked up from his embarrassing thoughts to see you running from the station over towards him. Your hair was in all sorts of disarray as it stuck out in multiple places under your toboggin.

“You’re here early! If I would’ve known that, I’d catch the earlier train!” You told him while catching your breathe.

Bede gave a light chuckle, and genuine smile. He tucked the unruly strands back into place, fixing your scarf in the process. “Then there wouldn’t be a need for a meet up time, besides, I didn’t wait that long.” He placed the flowers out into your hands. “I used that time wisely though, no need to worry.”

You gave a loud gasp, your cheeks flooding with color. “Bedey! You shouldn’t have!” You marveled at the arrangement in your hands, smoothing a finger over the big bow. “These are gorgeous! And you even got my favorite!”

You leaned forward to give him a sweet kiss on his lips, your other hand that wasn’t holding the arrangement found it’s way to his cheek. “You’re the sweetest ever, thank you.”

Bede’s face flushed himself, but the smile remained on his lips, nonetheless. “I’m glad you like them.” He was about to lean in for another kiss when he felt something nudging in between the two of you.

He looked down and his face immediately fell. “Ah…hello Mochi.”

Mochi was your Meowstic, quite a docile natured female Meowstic usually. She had been your partner Pokemon since you were in middle school. The two of you went everywhere together, and she rarely left your side. Even for such intimate things as a date, much to Bede’s displeasure.

“Mochi! I thought you wanted to nap in your pokeball, silly girl!” You tutted at her, crouching down to your knees to give her head a firm pat, smoothing out the glossy fur.

Mochi leaned her head into your hand a mewed lovingly, her tail swishing back and forth. “Meeeeowwws~”

Bede also reached down to give her a pet, but she stopped him with one of her ears, and eyed him with distain.

“Alright alright, I know they give the best pets anyways.” Bede replied and retracted his hand. “So, do you wanna head out to that café?”

You gave him an excited nod. “Yes! I’m starving!” Your Meowstic purred in agreement, wrapping her tail around your leg. “Maybe they have some sweets that you’ll like Mochi.” You beamed at the psychic pokemon.

‘Wonderful…’ The gym leader though, stuffing a hand into his pocket, and smoothing his curls out with his other. ‘A plus one that absolutely loathes me.’

The day went by exactly as Bede had thought it would, after the new addition.

At the café while the two of you were eating your lunch, Mochi had levitated the spoon out of Bede’s mouth and plopped it down into his bowl of tomato bisque. Which in turn splattered rich red tomato stains all over his cardigan that he just had dry cleaned.

At the theatre, when he had grabbed your hand thinking it was yours, it was in fact Mochi’s who had taken your lap as her seat and swatted at him every time he even attempted to touch you. Eating all the popcorn that he had bought for the two of you. When he had leaned in for a kiss, he was met with a powerful scratch from a shadow claw.

During shopping at the local clothing shoppe, by some odd twist of fate the store was out of all outfits that Bede had taken a liking to, that were in his size. The store owner was even more so confused and repeatedly apologized to Bede and swearing up and down he would figure out why.

The clothes were found in the shoppe’s employees bathroom, tore to literal shreds. You two never went back.

By the time night had fallen, Bede was beyond exhausted. At every turn and attempt that he had made to be close to you, Mochi had intervened.

She even hacked up a hairball while you two were holding hands on your walk by the water outside of town. Smirking towards Bede as you coddled her and were patting her back.

The two of you had arrived at the gym, snacks and drinks bought before hand to make it more of a leisurely picnic while watching the aurora on top of the gym at the shop owners’ suggestion.

Melony was more than happy to let the two of you use the roof of her gym for your date. Giving you a big warm hug in the process and fixing your hair back into place like a mother would do. She even suggested to use the gym challenge as a sort of couple’s activity.

While Bede insisted that was a bad idea, you were all up for it. Practically grabbing the tongs out of Melony’s hands in excitement.

Bede glanced towards Mochi who sneered at him with her arms crossed, tail swishing back and forth. He gave a sigh, his shoulder’s slumping in tandem. “Let’s do it…”

—-

The three of you cleared the first two levels with ease, you clapping your hands together in happiness and exclaimed loudly. “This was such a good idea! We haven’t even fell once!”

Meowstic mewed loudly with you, raising her hands in the air, sharing your excitement.

Bede watched in amusement and tugged his scarf closer to his body. It was rather easy to clear these levels with Meowstic’s superb sense of hearing. She had maneuvered the three of them through each hidden pitfall carefully. Not allowing any harm to come to you, or him.

Though he knew that if she had her way, he would be underneath the ice time after time.

You marched forward with her to begin the next level of the challenge, when you heard the whirring of machines all around you.

Mist, and thick fog began to emit from the fans up on the gym’s ceiling. It quickly settled down upon the three of you, and obscured the previously clear sight in front of you into a dense, icy haze.

You gave a slight shudder; the room grew even colder when those fans were turned on. “N-Now we can’t see?! This just keeps getting cooler and cooler!” you said eagerly and turned around to Bede. “Isn’t this the absolute best sweetie? We’re gonna clear this next one so quick, we’re gonna be faster than a Snorlax chasing lunch!”

Bede laughed at your childlike behavior, giving you a pat on the head before Mochi could swat him away. “We’d better hurry, but we gotta be extra careful, okay?” He reminded you and you nodded at him in response.

The three of you began to carefully trek the unsteady floor in front of you. Mochi had her ears up in full concentration, using her psychic power to help lead her away from the multiple traps that lay hidden underneath the ice. And all was going well up until the end.

With what seemed like a clear few steps away from the finish line, Mochi had gotten overly excited in wanting to beat Bede, she ran right over the final trap on the floor.

The ice began cracking under her small feet and she let out a small squeak as she fully expected to hit the lightly padded floor below.

…

But it never came.

The Pokemon cautiously opened one of her red eyes to peer at the pink cardigan that was previously stained by her with tomato bisque. The pokemon then fixed her gaze up to Bede who had managed to catch her in time to cushion the fall from above.

The gym leader groaned slightly, using on hand to prop himself and the Meowstic up. The other he used to rub his now slightly aching back. “Ugh…”

Mochi continued to stare, bewildered at Bede’s actions. The two of them didn’t get along, the pokemon didn’t agree with the relationship because she was highly critical of anyone that came close to her trainer. Let alone in intimate terms such as dating.

But if they didn’t get along, why did he save her?

Mochi mewed softly to Bede. “Murr?”

Violet eyes met with red ones and Bede offered Mochi a smile. “Hey, are you hurt?”

The pokemon shook her head and then nuzzled against his hand softly. “Meow…stic.”

The two of them looked up as they heard frantic footsteps.

“Bede! Mochi! Are you two alright?” You were on your hands and knees from above looking down with a concerned expression on your face.

Bede gave a thumbs up and a smile, your Meowstic cheering loudly.

After helping Mochi and Bede up out of the hidden trap, you all found an alternative route to the finish line, and successfully finished the challenge.

Melony was waiting at the end to offer her congratulations, and the key to the roof as a “prize”.

You gave another cheer, wrapping your arms around Bede and pulling him into a kiss.

Bede kissed back happily and halfway expected to be interrupted. But he wasn’t.

After he pulled away from you, he peered down towards Mochi who was standing there quietly, looking away from the two of you with her paws together in front of her. Oddly quiet, and non-mischievous for once in her life.

The leader was confused at the Pokemon, but didn’t say anything as the three made their way up to the roof. As they arrived, the new gush of cold air hit everyone at once, causing a shiver to run through each of them simultaneously.

“Let’s get that blanket out yeah?” you suggested, wrapping your hands over your chilled arms.

When Bede had finished laying out the blanket on the cold roof’s floor, and another heavier blanket that quickly followed. You practically launched yourself under it’s cozy embrace and held it open for himself and Mochi to join into.

You dug into your backpack and pulled out several snacks and a thermos full of apple cider and poured your Meowstic some first. She in turn took a large sip and cooed appreciatively.

You then offered Bede a glass of his own, then settled in next to him. Mochi right in the middle of you two.

Once the three of you were comfortable it wasn’t long until a familiar streak of light made its way onto the sky, casting colors from pale blue to florescent pink all through the nighttime sky.

You let out another gasp, while taking pictures with your rotom phone, totally entranced.

Bede felt a small weight against his knee as Mochi settled herself next to him and licked at her paw to rub against her face to rid it of the sweet cider she had previously drank earlier. He wrapped a arm around you and petted your Meowstic’s fur softly, listening to her coos of delight.

The day might not had gone as Bede originally planned, but it did end on a sweeter note. And that he was grateful for.

#bede x reader #pokemon bede x reader #pokemon sword and shield #meowstic

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capricornus-rex · 4 years

Text

Stronger Than Blood (2)

Chapter 2: Meet the Mechanic | Cal Kestis x Reader

Requested by Anon

Summary: Meeting another Force-sensitive was one thing, but having them related to one of the most formidable known duelers was a whole other story to tell. While being stranded in another planet after barely escaping the Haxion Brood, Cal crosses paths with someone who’s at a crossroads with their own identity and lineage.

Also posted in AO3

Tags: Force-User! Reader, Force-Sensitive Reader, Sith-Related! Reader

Previous: Part 1 | Next: Part 3 | Masterlist

2 of ?

The cityscape reminded him so much of Bracca and Coruscant altogether.

Tier upon tier of annexes and alleyways along buildings, big and small, framed the city. Humans and other races diversified the bustling city life. Cal was already beginning to get nauseous for flicking his eyes left and right in search of a parts shop—as well as watching out for Imperial patrols.

“I just hope the Imps doesn’t find out soon that we’re here,”

“Bee… Trill?”

“Yeah, buddy, of course we’re gonna find help. Don’t you worry,” additionally, Cal patted the little droid’s head as he walked.

Not long after his consolation to the droid, a modest parts shop caught the eye of the young redhead. The sign only read “Tundu’s Mech” presuming that it was the name of the owner. Either way, he followed his instincts, trusting that from the looks of the building’s façade, it was highly likely a mechanical parts shop. Hopefully, they’ll have the merchandise the Mantis needs.

The door of the shop was merely twin swinging doors that flopped even when the person has gotten through, the hinges were squeaky enough to produce a sound—signalling the entry of a customer—until it mellowed. An Iktochi appeared from the other side of the room, obscured by a wall of small parts in a closed display case, nonchalantly greeting the boy. The blood-orange creature didn’t face Cal until he waddled towards the counter, in a sort of formality.

“Welcome, friend!” he repeated. “See anything you need here? I assure you I have quality wares as much as the next stall in the block!”

Cal didn’t waste time with the niceties. He started off by telling the parts that the Mantis needs as well as an extra set of hands to help out. Without needing to be prompted, BD-1 flashed a holograph of the entire Mantis’s cross-section, highlighting the damaged parts red.

The Iktochi shopkeeper ran his clawed finger across his chin as he took a gander of the hologram. He wagged his finger.

“Aaaah-ha,” he groaned. “I think we may have something. Hold a minute.”

The owner suddenly shifted to speaking in his native Iktochese, fixating his head in the direction of the other side of his shop. Shortly after, you popped out of the room where he had his eyes on, and then you joined him by the counter. Tundu continued using his dialect on you, it was stern and hissy, you replied in full Iktochese in the same bickering-like manner.

You took notice just now of the ginger boy with a tiny droid riding his shoulder. Your eyes met for the briefest moment and then the Iktochi transitioned into speaking Galactic Basic.

“You’re in the workshop again, child! You’re staying there for way too long and less on watching the store!” Tundu scolded.

“It’s lean hours already, Tundu, I doubt someone will come here,” you argued.

“Well, there is one now, [y/n],”

Tundu gestured to Cal. His presence in the store finally sank into you.

“Hey,” you casually greeted. “What do you need?”

Cal stuttered and fumbled over his person, by habit he searched his pockets hoping to find a compact projector there and forgetting for a moment that BD-1 had that covered. The little droid sensed the redhead’s anxiety and did him a solid of flashing the holograph again.

“Oh, thanks,” he quickly told BD and then turned to the blue projection of the ship. “Yeah, we need these parts—hopefully you have something that fits into a luxury cruiser.”

“An S-161 luxury yacht,” you uttered, an expression of interest plastered all over your face. “Impressive. Not many models like this nowadays. It’s beautiful.”

Cal’s eyes trailed to you, an involuntary smile curled at the corner of his mouth as he studied your inquisitive expression, peering and squinting your eyes closer to the projection to get a better look. He sensed something unique about you ever since you walked in on him and the store owner. It was only a feeling and he didn’t fully trust it yet.

You clicked your tongue, and then hovered your pointer finger about the broken tendon of the landing gear, “I think I can find you a fresh replacement for this one. The others—the bigger parts—are gonna need some inventory checking.”

“You made inventory last month, no?” Tundu jabbed.

“Wouldn’t hurt to visit the storage room,” you shrugged.

“Good, good,” a tired sigh was released from the Iktochi’s lungs. “Sorry, your name? Cal, was it? I shall leave you to my little protégé. My apologies. Bad back, you know.”

Without needing a response from the boy, the Iktochi immediately retreated to his private room in the shop. Now, it’s just you and the boy with a little droid.

“Sorry, he often forgets that he works up his lungs whenever he scolds me,”

“He does seem to trust you well enough though,”

You scoffed, “Guess you could say that.”

A pause. Cal looked around the store while you continued to gather and then re-sort the scattered merchandise on the counter display.

“So, uh, don’t wanna rush you the same way your boss does but when are you gonna do that inventory check?” Cal struggled to sound as politely as he can, without sounding like he’s telling you how to do your job.

You dismissed it as you continued reorganizing the items, “Oh sure, this’ll be done in a sec.”

You told him to wait in that little area that could be the lobby, you gestured to a crate and offered him a seat, followed by an apologize for not having the best interior design in Nalima. You excused yourself to the stockroom, the sound of the metal clanging together was enough an evidence for Cal to know you’re trying your best to help.

You come out of the room with two parts on each hand. You raised the right hand first.

“Okay, this is the landing gear ligament that I told you,” you switched to the left hand. “This is a replacement suspension coil. I didn’t see your ship land but I think it’s safe to assume that you’ve worked up your cruiser there. It’ll be dangerous to work with a brittle suspension.”

You were taken aback when Cal started marching towards you, under the impression that he was about to take the parts off of your hands, you retracted them farther from him and then shot him a quizzical look straight in the eye.

“Don’t worry, I was just gonna take a look,” he said so in a gentle, reassuring tone.

Not only did his voice make you certain enough that he’s trustworthy, it was the feeling he gave off ever since he stepped in the store. Back in the workshop, you had already sensed his presence, but shrugged it off as a fluke—that is until Tundu called for you to the counter and met him.

You were slightly hesitant to hand him over the parts, when he stood close enough, a metal shine caught your eye—you followed it and found a very familiar trinket hanging on the hook of his belt.

Jedi…? Here?

All of a sudden, your mind was in a rush. The memories immediately flooded over you, clouding you of your senses. The hesitation tripled, but you were too late to reaction when you felt his fingertips make contact with your palm as he takes away the parts from your hands with care.

“Are you okay? You kinda froze there for a moment, [y/n],”

“You’re a Jedi, aren’t you?” the delivery of that question was calmer than you expected it to be.

Your eyes met again. Cal had a startled look in his face, while your expression mirrored the same frozen state you had mere seconds ago.

“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna turn you in,” you assured him, but uttered it within his earshot. You take a deep breath and shifted back to the real topic at hand, turning your voice back to its normal volume. “Oh, and your busted hyperdrive compressor? That’s a bit tricky.”

“Why? Why’s it tricky?”

“Well, for one: it’s hard to come by those things,” your shrugged your shoulders. “I don’t know why people keep breaking their compressors every now and then.”

“And I suppose you know where to find one?”

An amused chuckle rumbled in your throat, “Take a wild guess, pretty boy.”

Cal replied with his trademark smug, putting himself at par with your snark. For whatever odd reason that he couldn’t point his finger on, the vibe that you exuded intrigued him the longer he interacts with you. It’s almost as if the Force was telling him—rather, nudging him about something.

“Tomorrow. Come by here tomorrow and I’ll take you to the inner district,”

“Why not now?”

That amused smile that adorned your face melted in an instant when the answer came into mind.

“Imperial patrols, they’re stricter—and more suspicious of you—when going through the inner district. Especially at this hour. You arrived here just a tad borderline of the wee hours,”

“No surprise there,” said Cal agreeably.

Two of you have settled the agreement for tomorrow’s excursion. You instructed him to meet you at the store in the morning—when the patrols aren’t so strict. It almost felt like a shame for you to tell him that it’s closing hours now, but he flashed a friendly smile at you as he slowly walked away.

As soon as Cal left the store, the feeling was still there and couldn’t make of it—at least not yet.

“Bee, chirp?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, BD. There’s just… something that about that [y/n],” Cal confided to the tiny companion on his shoulder. “It’s strange, but… I know it means well.”

He dismissed the thought as he made his way back to the Mantis, he eventually spotted the Imperial patrols that you were talking about—white duraplast armor sticking out of the dark, neutral colors of the city like a sore thumb—and evaded them. The whole ordeal reminded him greatly of how he strode Bracca’s streets day and night, in and out of work, just to avoid these Stormtroopers.

Cal got back to the Mantis, unfollowed and unscathed, and bore the good news to the crew in the middle of dinner.

“Just how much trust can you put in a person?” Greez asked, his tone delivered the question somewhat sarcastically, but he was gravely serious.

“Well, I don’t know if I can justify my reason but… there’s just something about her that I can’t explain,”

“You know the word for that is called ‘crush,’ right, kid?”

The young Jedi’s cheeks burned nearly as red as his hair. He averted his face from his crew, hanging his head low while he fiddled away the food on his plate.

“You don’t mean that she’s…”

“Force-sensitive?” Cal shrugged as he drives the prong of his fork into the Scazz steak and brings it into his mouth. “Could be or could not.”

Cere expressed on the crew’s behalf that she trusts Cal’s judgment.

“So far, you haven’t befriended anyone who’s tried to kill us,” Cere blurted, somehow solidifying her confidence in the boy.

“Right?”

The crew continued on with their meal. The quarters weren’t a suitable place for Cal to sleep in yet, so he slept in the couch of the lounge instead—and made himself comfortable there. In the midst of the dead silence of the ship, he had more time to think… of you.

He doesn’t know if you were aware of it, but the moment his fingertips brushed against the skin of your palm, he felt a jolt course into his body. Given that his connection with the Force is still healing, even a Padawan could still spot the signs, however, this was only a hunch that has yet to be proven.

Cal slept with the hope that the Force could tell him more.

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blankdblank · 4 years

Text

Brother Dearest Pt 26

Six notepads full of notes with a stack of typed notes for the subjects were bound up with ample notes you had taken from the countless textbooks you had powered through the week before to try and keep up with the advanced math course you weren’t certain of how you would fare. Trying to over prep so that maybe your Professor might take you seriously, even going so far as to pick up even more advanced math form textbooks from a trunk upstairs that Victor had found for you. Catching onto your doubts the brothers sat up with you on your sleepless nights guiding you through the process of the equations and formulas that in their rainy and winter seasons at home they mastered on their own.

Self taught in so many of their own subjects and languages, taking great pride at how hard you were working. Not a month past having to deal with your first voting season back home being abruptly cut short as a technicality barred unwed women to vote and even with James named as your fiancé and Eddie as former guardian you were turned away. One low blow after another, refused the vote you dealt with a man you nearly hurled off your front stoop demanding to meet the owner of the house wanting to sell something. An hour he spent on the stoop after you slammed the door in his face and neighbors told him that the men were inside and they weren’t going to speak to him after he’d made you angry.

So around you they sat wishing they could do more other than say they would take you to vote the hell out of the next year. Even just small matters of schools and town hall meetings you were silenced until you were married with certain common items in shops refused to women as well and no doubt would have to scrape for any fair chance in the male dominated courses. Sleeplessly however between Victor’s readying of the roast to slowly cook on low you changed to head to Mass. Eagerly the Father hoped that supper would come sooner as he had been boasting on the exclusive invite.

Using a diagram from a book you lined up the table luring smirks from Eddie and James who peeked in at you. Dawn strolled in with a vase in one hand she settled in the center of the table with a selection of short purple and orange flowers from the bushes out back she fluffed up a bit saying, “Best I could do.”

Smiling at her you said, “They’re lovely.”

Looking you over she said, “Up for some liquid courage?”

Shaking your head you said, “With my metal control alcohol and pain medicines wear off within moments in my bloodstream.”

“Oh,”

“Feel free to have a nip if you like.”

Curiously she asked as Victor and James came to set rolls on the table with butter and the salt and pepper shakers, “What else can you two do?” They smirked looking at her adding, “I know what they can do, to a degree. People in town said you were, a bit, odd, but they never clarified. And you can talk to animals and trees…”

Victor said, “Well, we have healing abilities, like hers but without the metal. On top of the talking my nails grow and Jimmy has bone claws.”

Dawn asked, “Bone-?”

James made a fist with his claws extending drawing her closer and accepting his offer to poke at his claws with clear flecks of iron imbedded in them. “They used to be all bone but Jaqi found a way to leech iron from our blood into our bones to make them stronger. Used to be so easy to break our bones when we fought.”

She looked to Victor who said, “Oh, we’re also really strong and really fast compared to others. Much easier with the iron bones, and since it’s our own iron our bodies created our bodies don’t try to get rid of it.” Releasing his hand she moved to Victor who extended his nails making her brow inch up and him chuckle, “I know, not as impressive, but if I grow them long enough I can snap them off and throw them really far.”

Loud and clear the doorbell rang and Eddie said, “I’ll get it.” Watching as Victor retracted his claws and Dawn went to help you finish readying the tea set.

Dawn patted your hand saying, “You’ll do lovely.” Teddy began to fuss in his playpen and she hurried over, “Oh, does someone need a changing?”

Nipping at your lip you hovered the tea tray into the tea room and centered it onto the table adjusting the tea cups before straightening up and brushing your hands over your skirt. Behind you James came up untying your apron planting a kiss onto your cheek, whispering to you sweetly, “I love you, breathe Darling.”

Steps echoed and a quick kiss was stolen in a glance back at him before his winking step back to put your apron up in the kitchen. Victor came out content that the food was staying warm in the oven for the drinks before dinner. Warm greetings came after a quick tour of the main floor including the library earning a whistle from the impressed Priest. Into the tea room he strode smiling taking in the details and looked to you ask you asked, “Would you care for some tea?”

Father Thomas replied, “No, however I would take a nip of brandy, if you have it.”

Eddie flashed you a wink hurrying to the bar having stocked it and broke out the glasses, of which he poured himself a bourbon and a gin for Victor. Dawn smiled returning with Teddy on her hip to sit beside Eddie who took his son to cuddle with on his lap granting her hold of the tea you poured out for her. James hummed as the Father sampled his brandy, “I’ll take a cup, Darling.” Smiling at you lovingly as you poured it making sure to brush your fingers in accepting it. Your tea was next and after adding a pair of sugar cubes to your tea you gracefully held stepping to your seat beside James once lowered into signaled the crossing of your ankles tilting your knees to lay against is thigh. A single sip however had your mind tapping James’ to ask, “How is the tea?”

James, “Not bad. Fairly strong.”

“I think it needs something.”

“Perhaps honey?”

“Honey is so expensive here. The sugar was absurd enough.”

“I will write to Dot back home for some of her uncle’s honey.”

Pleasant conversation lasted through to the bottom of your cups signaling your move to the dining room where Father Thomas accepted a glass of milk from Dawn to go with the meal you helped Victor and James bring to the table. “Bunny and Dawn, you have outdone yourselves, truly.”

Subtle shakes of heads at Victor and James had you both smiling at him in return while you poured yourself some milk as well after bringing James his juice he had asked for. Eddie kept his bourbon to sip on and Dawn fed Teddy in his high chair. Pleasantly the meal continued, pausing for Dawn to take Teddy to sleep in his nursery, rejoining in time for some pie that you skipped on, helped by Eddie to clear the table and brew up some more tea for yourself and James. Victor finishing his own second slice of pie watched as you came back to share a bowl of ice cream with James to go with the one you brought Dawn.

Dinner had come early leaving tons of time for cards, which downstairs Victor and James lit up cigars while the Priest indulged on his weekly cigarette to a cup of coffee he had asked for that you gladly filled his formerly ignored teacup with. Their game came in your friendly match against Dawn in pool while Eddie played Dealer to the card game. A subtle glance to the window in the back yard helped you ease open the window to air out the basement aided by a fan in the corner you kept spinning without having to turn it on. The ventilation pleasing Dawn as well, who you shared hushed giggles and conversation with in French about the guys and their moneyless chipped game to simply help the Priest keep track of who had won each round. The phone ringing upstairs had you going up to answer the call sending you back down to lock eyes with the Priest whose brows were raised, “Father, that was Dennis Tilby on the line, his dad’s taken a turn.”

Instantly he popped up saying, “Right, well, thank you for the lovely time.”

Putting his cigarette out in the ash tray beside him nodding his head to Victor and Eddie as James said, “I’ll show you up.”

Passing you Father Thomas said with a pat of a hand on your arm, “You have worked wonders on this place. Haven’t had a home cooked meal like that in a good while, quite a kindness.” He patted Dawn’s as well adding, “Should last me well through the night and into the morrow.”

Exhaling sharply when he was out of sight you sat down on a stool against the wall making Victor smirk gathering the cups he downed and stacked to carry along with the put out cigars and cigarette saying, “I’ll put the ash tray outside. You did wonderful.”

Lifting your hands you tried to take the cups he eased out of your reach, “I’ll-,”

“Take a load off. Quite a meal.” Your head tilted and he smiled wider, “I don’t want credit. Women like you can cook like that, that’s something, we know how to cook like that and aren’t pro’s, just sad. I would rather be the man behind the curtain Miss Oz.” he passed you two and went upstairs while you sat stealing a glance at Dawn who was racking up the balls again for the next person who would play.

Rapidly the fan you hovered around the room cleared the smoke out amusing Dawn who put up the cards and chips then joined you when you had set the fan down and closed the window again. Together you went up the steps shutting the lights off as you did finding James on his way from locking up the front doors. “That went swimmingly.” Once at your side he lifted you up in his arms, “And you, my Darling, off your feet.”

Victor, out of the kitchen said, “Cups are rinsed, plates too, and the dishes are soaking so you guys go to bed.”

Dawn, “You cooked.”

Victor said, “And I clean as well. Eddie’s got work early and he needs you, Olive and Pepper are outside handling their business so I have some time. Jimmy, off to bed.”

The younger brother chuckled obliging the order to take you upstairs, help you wash up, change and lay out for another of his snuggle followed full body rub downs. Victor grinned returning your finger wave on the path to the stairs truly glad he helped blow your first dinner guest away hopefully helping to boost your confidence at being a hostess in your own home for future guests.

“You’re both absurd.” You said in a nightgown on the bed while he rubbed your feet looking to you adoringly. “Making dinner, giving us credit, then he washes up alone.”

James, “We love you, you hosted marvelously.”

“There was something about the tea.”

“It was great tea, might just be the sugar, you haven’t tried it with regular sugar. I’ll fetch some tomorrow and we can test it out.”

You sighed saying, “It shouldn’t be this hard. Just tea.”

He chuckled again, “Sugar was rationed, right? Through the war and before?” You nodded and he said, “Could just be an old batch, or could be a stronger grain in the cubes to make it stick, or some syrup. Trust me, you have un-cubed sugar no one will fault you for it. The service alone you gave was perfect, you will find your groove for it, and when you are at school all day and hosting dinner parties to a meal like that we’ve prepped for you no one could hold a candle to you.”

“But, that’s cheating.”

He chuckled, “You really think any of those hoity toity ladies who thumbed their noses up at Portia doesn’t have a maid or cook at home to prep their meals for them? Moving up takes impressions and impressions take team work. You helped serve and clear the tea, serve the dinner it’s only fair me and Vic clear up after you had to air out the basement. We can cut back if it bothers you.”

You shook your head, “I don’t mind you smoking, I just don’t want it lingering, ruins wallpaper. We just put it up.”

He chuckled saying, “I get that. And we will keep it away from Teddy, Squishy’s genes or not, smoky room is no place for a baby.”

“Thank you. Nobody says anything but I’ve read up about lungs, Steve had asthma, I thought maybe I could find something someday to help him. I got tangled up in reading about house fires and smoke inhalation and tobacco isn’t that different when inhaled. It has to do something. Our lungs heal, or I might push you to quit-,”

“If it makes you uncomfortable I will.” Your lips parted and he said, “Think on it, if you want me to, I will, and we will ban smoking from the house.”

“You give me too much power sometimes.”

That had him smirking and humming back, “Nowhere close to enough, Darling.”

“Do I have anything I do you want me to stop?”

“Not a thing.” He wet his lips moving his hands to over your ankle asking, “Though Vic was wondering why you didn’t want any of the pie?”

“I think it was the tea, or the sugar. Something about it mixed with the sauce, which was amazing, but when I smelled the pie I just knew it would taste bitter when I ate it.”

Lowly he chuckled and said, “Good, then I can calm him down saying you will have some at lunch.”

In a giggle you replied, “I didn’t mean to upset him.”

“You didn’t. Just was worried you might have been overly anxious about our guest enjoying himself.” He looked you over, “We’ll find your stride.”

You nodded and said, “What sort of college starts on a Tuesday?”

He chuckled saying, “The sort that doesn’t know what’s coming for it.”

A knock at your door announced Victor’s peek through it to ask, “Up for guests?”

James nodded, “Didn’t think it’d take you this long to show up.”

Behind his back he held something wrapped up crossing the room making you say, “I knew you couldn’t resist hiding something from me.”

The pair of them smirked at you playfully and Victor said once seated by James on the bed, “Not much flair to offer for students, we were left to belts in our day. However we are not sending you out Pipsqueak with a belt.” Onto your lap he set the box you smirked as he said, “Not the flashiest, but it’s one of a kind.”

Pulling back the wrapping paper you lifted the top of the box and smiled at the carpet bag styled purse with a red based pattern and leather accents and handles at the top. James, “More of a purse but you can fit your notepads in it, maybe a book or two so you won’t lose your loose papers.”

“Come here,” you said setting it down making them smile as Victor came closer accepting your first tight sniffle filled hug. “You didn’t have to do this, you’ve spent so much on me already.”

James, “Says who?” You pulled back in his own scoot forward setting your leg down again to fold you into a tight hug, “Not nearly enough, Darling. You deserve so much more.”

Victor, “And you just watch those ladies show up with carpet bags in a week. All hideous and out of fashion no doubt compared to yours. No one compares.”

James planted a kiss on your lips sweetly and pulled back to rub your leg again, “We’re all here for you, Darling. Anything you need let us know.”

“What about what you two need?”

Victor, “We need you to succeed.”

James, “And be safe and happy.”

“You two still need something.”

James, “You’re already giving us everything we could ever want.”

A short sleeved peach blouse tucked into a black skirt was joined by your black heels and a cardigan you added on your way out of the kitchen. Eddie also was on his way out and James joined Victor in pecking Teddy’s forehead around where you had mid hug to Dawn who wished you luck. James had your bag and Victor said, “Deep breath, let’s get you to school.” Out the front door you walked petting Whiskers, Olive and Pepper on the way, each of them curious about why today seemed different than other times you had left. The doors were shut behind you and down the steps you found your way to the station.

From bustling train car and out of the station two hands remained on your back keeping other men stealing glances your way far away from trying to approach you. Even on the third time out there the ride seemed so familiar already, just half an hour still you took the ride to relax exiting in the sun rising. Not far from there the school was surrounded already by lines of students heading for the big opening. With a peck on your cheek James said outside the front gates, “We’ll be here to walk you back.”

“You are not walking around all day.”

Victor chuckled, “We have plans. To keep busy, promise.” With a nod you stepped out to pass through the gates joining the others on foot, those mainly men while the females rode in lines of cars with bikes no doubt to keep them mobile on the campus from their dorms. The brothers watching on until you were out of sight sighed and turned to head back again planning on taking Olive and Pepper for a walk to the nearest park.

Curious glances your way in breaking off came at a quickening of your pace to pass between two stopped cars to the next walkway leading to the main entrance of Barnard. Seeing you walking a few ladies chose to be let out here and walk themselves, mainly those not moving into the dorms choosing to seem more independent as you did. Poised and walking alone one more opening ceremony came for those absurdly early like you, the Professors split allowing you through. Hall after hall each turn found you outside your first class, against the wall you stood waiting with fingers fixed on the handles of your bag. Soft taps echoed announcing your arriving Professor who smiled and unlocked her door allowing you and the trio of young ladies lined up behind you straightening up as well to claim your seats.

Off to the side of the far wall in the final two rows of seating you walked inspecting the few titles on the shelves against the wall and the odd poster every few feet on the wall to claim the second seat in. On top of your lap your bag settled and in crossing your ankles one of your notepads and a pen was added to the desk along with the textbook for this class out of the few books not able to fit in your bag left on the side of your desk. Steadily more students began to trickle in and elegantly in cursive across the board the Professor wrote her name and the title of her first lesson.

Right away she delved her opening speech saying, “Welcome Ladies, to the start of your higher education. For the first task,” she held a stack of papers and passed it to the woman in front of you, “Take one of these and pass it back,” doing the same in each row, “This is a contract, of basic requirements for this class. Weekly there will be a quiz, bi-weekly there will be a paper due. Between those there will be expected visits to museums that I would like you to take full advantage of and pay attention because there will be a paper due on the exhibit you choose as well, I will be expecting ticket stubs to prove that you have gone with your papers.” Following along on the page she said, “You are allowed two absences in my course before I start reducing points on each test and quiz after your third absence. I expect a B average, if you dip below a B then you are granted one test to try and lift your grade up before I will remove you from my course myself. This is just one semester Ladies, rise to the challenge or have yourself traded to Miss Margen’s course which is far less stringent.”

For a history course it was rather strict and you couldn’t help but smirk internally in listening to the list go on with details of what heading she expected on each paper that you copied down in your notes. Following the lesson along when she actually began the start of her year, unknown to you while you continued to focus on your notes her eyes kept shifting to you, the only woman to not look up except for when she wrote on the board. It was an old habit to focus on the work and not draw attention to yourself like you did back in high school. Already having asked four other students questions that turned into mini debates crumbling as they couldn’t give her the book proof she was expecting.

“You, second seat back, your opinions on the gold rush?” Her eyes fixed on yours when you glanced up had her looking you over as you shifted your pen between your fingers.

“In what aspect? The travel, those who took it up, the effects on the spread of cities West and South, or the changes to clothing and social standards shifting from Colonial to a Rural environment. Unless you mean the effects of medicine limitations and the effects it had on the lives and funeral industry until the railroad was settled and granted a modicum of ease in stabilizing town populations?” Her brow inched up and you said, “Economically it was a risk, but fools who dream big change the world. Case in point there is hardly any patch of land in this country that hasn’t been explored or attempted to have been settled in. Even if the territory is eventually found inhospitable to human life. In full the Gold Rush sparked a rise in several aspects, both positive and those increasing in less noble topics.”

“Such as?”

“Crime, for one, and the beginning of the discovery of the profiteering of the funeral business.”

In a scoff she asked, “And just what experience would you have of the profiteering of the funeral business?”

Looking at her flatly you replied, “I buried both of my parents before I was thirteen,” her smirk dimmed as you added, “Then I lost my brother in the war. Every cent my mother had saved up went to paying off her funeral and we still owed hundreds. My brother was buried easier because the military paid for it. You shouldn’t have to go down in a plane to not bankrupt your family who wants to lay you to rest.”

Clearing her throat she got back to the lesson while you glanced down again to delve back into taking notes ignoring what you knew to be pitying stares had you glanced around to the other ladies trying to remain calm at their own open wounds of those lost in the war. Right back to the same pattern of calling students out the lesson continued and you were nearly forgotten when class was called and you all stood to head to your next class. One by one you passed her the signed contracts and with a soft grin from you she accepted yours, stealing a glance in your turn away to read your signature at the bottom parting her lips recognizing your name. Hushed comments of support came from your fellow students in the hall who split heading to their own classes while you hurried to get there to have a choice on your seat.

Italian came next and near to the front you sat across the hall from your Latin class. The middle aged Professor straightening a pin in her nest of a bun littered with hints of grey matching the color of her dress and shoes flashed you a grin watching you sit in the second row along the wall then turned to erase part of what was written on the board. Not quite as strict, but no less dedicated to ensuring each student gave their all gave the instruction that for the second semester there would be no speaking in English at all.

A sentiment copied by the Latin Professor in the class right after this one who seemed to enjoy getting to be friendly with his students right away. “Miss Pear, I was intrigued to hear you were taking my course. Might I ask why?”

Looking up from your notes you had copied from a rule in pronunciation he had given you caught his grin tugging wider as you answered, “One of the last books my Dad gave me was a dictionary on Latin. My high school didn’t allow females in their Latin course.”

“And what a shame that is,” he said turning to his board to write another tip out. “One of the main things you have to know is that we won’t just be learning how to read and write it but how to speak it, how to breathe some life into what some deem a dead language.” All class he tried to build up some passion in each of his students and by his challenging grin it seemed you were added to the list of students harder to break out of their focused shell.

Pt 27

#James Howlett x Reader OC #Victor Creed #Venom #Eddie Brock x OC #Dinner with Father Thomas #First Day of School Pt 1

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yerisdumbass · 4 years

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kitten!gowon (owners chuuves) and kitten!hyunjin (owners viseul) fighting and their owners have to separate them.

No one knows where the not so friendly rivalry came from. It just seemed like when Hyunjin and Gowon met, they hated each other’s guts. It didn’t make sense because their owners were best friends with each other since highschool, no bad blood between them.

They were both adopted at around the same time and had basically grown up together, went to the same school, had play dates, they were pushed together any chance their owners got. Chuu and Haseul thought there was no hope for them as friends, but that’s when Yves came up with an idea.

She proposed her idea of locking them in Hyunjin’s room so that they could make amends with each-other, it worked in movies, so why wouldn’t it work here?

After Gowon and Hyunjin went to their respective homes after school, The Ha-Kim family went to their house to execute their plan. Yves knocked on the door and was greeted with Vivi smiling up at her “hey guys! Hey little one, come on in.” She said and winked at Chuu and Yves.

Haseul was on the couch as she looked up at the company “hey! Gowon, Hyunjin’s upstairs, how about you go say hi.” She spoke and Gowon hesitantly nodded, walking up the steps with a slight slouch as she made her way up the familiar stairs to the room that was “off-limits”, not hearing the quiet footsteps behind her as she knocked on Hyunjin’s door.

The door to Hyunjin’s room opened with an annoyed looking Hyunjin behind her, “what do you want?” She growled, her ears perked up as she looked at Gowon with disgust. Before Gowon could answer, she was pushed into the room with Hyunjin and the door lock clicked behind them. “What the fuck! Mom, let me out!” Gowon said and started scratching on the door, hissing in annoyance before huffing and turning around.

“Did you plan this? I swear to God Gowon I will punt you to the sun!” She threatened, her claws retracting as she pointed her pointer finger at her.

“why would I want to be near you?! Put the finger down or I’m clawing your eyes out.” Gowon threatened right back, not backing down and instead retracting her arm and clawing Hyunjin’s face. Soon a brawl erupted with them both scratching and biting each other, Yves heard whimpers and unlocked the door, rushing inside and pulling Gowon away from Hyunjin, Vivi trying to hold Hyunjin back from them, patting her head to calm her down.

“Hey hey hey, no more fighting, stop that.” Chuu scolded Gowon and picked her up in the bridal hold as the adrenaline started to fade and the reality of her cuts started to crash down on her. “I know that hurts, doesn’t it? Now you know not to fight her.”

#LOONa #hybrid

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suckerforv · 3 years

Text

More Than A Hybrid

You closed the door of the hospital where you worked at, waving goodbye to your colleagues who were staying for the night shift. You hopped in your car, about to drive off when you heard faint meows coming from an alleyway near the hospital. You stopped, wondering if you should help or not. You decided you would, and stopped the car. You cautiously walked towards the cat, who eyed you very suspiciously and tail swishing from side to side.

“Hi, kitty! My name’s y/n, and I wonder if you want to come home with me. Since, y’know, it’s cold and freezing out here!” you told the cat, who looked up at you with big eyes. “So, what’s your answer?”

As you bent down to pat the cat on the head, the cat immediately jumped back and swatted at you with his claws, hissing at you.

“Ow!” you quickly retracted your hand, several claw marks raking your hand. “Fine! If you wanna be that way, then you will stay here. I don’t take care of hissy, mean cats. Only good cats.” With that, you walked away.

Yoongi’s POV

I watched the human walk towards me. I sniffed the air, her scent of strawberries and cream tickling my nose. She smelled good. She talked to me, inviting me to go home with her. As she knelt down to pat me, I jumped back and swatted her hand, leaving scratch marks on the surface, blood seaping. Immediately, I regretted it as she walked away, scowling at me.

“I scared away a human who only wanted to help! Great job, Yoongi!” I scolded myself, wishing my instincts weren’t so strong. I sighed. It was my previous owners that gave me such skittish manners. They abused me, made me act like a real cat, and just hated me. I stared after her retreating figure longingly. Then I decided, I would follow her and stay at her house, whether she liked it or not.

Your POV

You sighed, stepping out of the car and grabbing your bag from the back when you heard a meow from behind you.

You slowly turned around, and gasped when you saw the kitten from earlier. “Did-did you just follow me here??!!”

The kitten meowed in response.

“Ugh. Fine. Into the house, kitty,” you waved your hand dismissively and the kitten meowed happily, then bounded after you. You decided to cook something simple: just fish and rice with some veggies on the side.

“I hope you’re fine eating just fish with rice,” you told the cat as you set the dish of food down, who looked at you with big eyes, then dove in.

“Wow, you must be really hungry,” you commented as you watched him eat from your chair. “Do you want some more?”

The cat meowed repeatedly, purring as you hesitantly rubbed its ears. You smiled, dishing out more fish and rice. Food is always the way to one’s heart.

The next morning….

You sleepily rubbed your eyes as the bright sunlight hit your bed and yawned. You waddled to the living room, where the cat- hold on, what was a man doing here? You shrieked, jerking the man awake.

“What the hell are you doing here???” you shouted, grabbing a pillow and shielding yourself.

“Let me explain, human,” the man huffed, standing up. “My name is Yoongi, Min Yoongi, and I’m the cat you picked up last night. I’m a calico cat hybrid.”

“Really?” you asked doubtfully. Yoongi rolled his eyes and shifted back to his animal form.

“Ohhhh!” you gasped in surprise as the cat glared at you, then Yoongi shifted back to his human form. It was only now that you caught sight of the two cat ears that sat atop his hair. Your mouth formed a small “o” as he faced you.

“Believe me now?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Y-yes,” you stammered. “So what happened to you?” you questioned, but seeing his body tense up at the sudden question, you quickly added, “You don’t have to answer that if you’re not comfortable with it. I just want to know.”

“It’s just the same old,” Yoongi shrugged, wiggling his toes in the fluffy carpet, head down, shoulders slumped. “My owners were abusive, used to punish me for small things that irritated them, and were just plain mean. They finally got tired of me and threw me out on the street.” His ears drooped sadly, and your heart broke at the sight.

After he finished telling you the whole story, he whipped his head around to stare at you. “Why? What’s wrong?” you tilted your head to one side. “Your scent changed,” he spoke bluntly. “You usually smell like strawberries and cream, but now you smell like sour cream. What’s wrong?” “Oh, it’s just your story that made me sad,” you explained, sniffling away some tears. “Sorry. Since I work at a hospital, it makes me sad that you were treated like that.”

“But you’re human,” Yoongi said, puzzled.

“So?” you questioned.

“I thought humans hated hybrids,” Yoongi stated, his tone confused.

“Well, not all humans,” you corrected him. You had three friends who each had a hybrid of their own: Namjoon with Jungkook, a bunny hybrid, Hoseok with Jimin, a calico cat hybrid, (the same as Yoongi’s), and Jin with Taehyung, a fox hybrid.

“I have three friends who each have a hybrid of their own,” you showed him pictures of your friends with their hybrids. Yoongi looked at each picture intently, but his face changed when he saw Jimin.

“Hold on, is that Jimin?” Yoongi’s eyes were wide, and so were yours.

“How do you know?” you looked at him, puzzled.

“He’s my brother.”

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caspers-arthur-morgan-imagines · 4 years

Text

One of a Kind

This is a requested one shot from @rexburn12 I hope this is along the lines of what you wanted! I loved writing this little piece and hope you all enjoy it!

Summary:

Someone has been hunting down KKK members and other gangs. The van der linde gang grow worried they’ll run into this threat soon. Whilst out around the area of Rhodes, Dutch and Arthur encounter the creature responsible.

Word count: 2155

____

The saloon was bustling with life. A man sat at the piano playing upbeat tunes that merry, drunken men sang along to. The bartender kept busy with serving the crowd in the building. Working ladies appeasing to some of the lonely gentlemen in the bar and disappearing with them up the stairs. Arthur and Dutch sat among the merry men and women. Both enjoying a drink and a laugh at the fools around them.

“I tell you son, these in-bred lot are something else.” Dutch chuckles before downing his glass of whiskey. Arthur chuckles in response and finishes his drink too.

The pair stand to leave the saloon, calling it a night to head back to camp. Neither man noticing the gaze that followed them as they left. A swig from the bottle and then its slammed back to the table as the figure stands and leaves the saloon out the back.

“Can’t wait to hear the nagging Miss O’Shea is going to give me this time.” Dutch grunts as he mounts onto the Count. Arthur chuckles as he mounts Walker, tapping his neck before they began the ride home.

“I’m sure half the camp is wondering that one, Dutch.” Arthur grins. Earning a side glare from the older gentleman.

They’re ride was smooth and quiet. The night sky full of stars and the full moon. All acting as their light on the road, leading them back home. With all the worries and stresses that had been going around the camp, the pair had enjoyed one evening drinking.

“Hey! Stop right there!” From the treeline appears four men in dirtied uniform. The stink alone from them made Arthur and Dutch pull their horses to a halt to avoid getting closer to them. The four men pointed their guns at the pair as they created a circle around them. Lemoyne Raiders.

“Now gentlemen, I’m sure we can make an agreement here.” Dutch begins. Raising a hand up to try and calm the situation. Arthur kept a keen eye on the two men beside him and in front of him. They were outnumbered by two and would have to think of something quick to get out of this.

“Which one of you have been killing our men?!” The man who spoke before shouted. His gun switching between Arthur and Dutch. The two men give one another a look of confusion. So there was something else hunting down gangs. But it certainly wasn’t them.

“Gentlemen there seems to a case of mistaken identity here.” Dutch chuckles as he looks at the man who spoke. “We are simply two friends enjoying the country-“

“Boss! Something is moving back here!” The man behind Dutch hollers as he turned to the treeline. A wave of panic seems to pass through the four men that surrounded Arthur and Dutch. Their horses were spooked by whatever the man claimed to be between the trees. Arthur patted Walked on the neck, trying to calm him down before he was bucked off.

“It’s the beast!” The man yells from behind Dutch. It is followed by a scream as a black figure dragged him into the shadows. This time Walker does buck Arthur off his back. Causing the man to crash to the mud with a grunt.

The remaining three men were firing round after round into the trees. Trying to save their friend from whatever had him in its clutches. When they stopped to reload, it was silent. Dutch had dropped from the Count to help Arthur to his feet.

A growl tore through the air. All three men tensing and freezing in their place. Arthur and Dutch turned to look at the tree line.

There within the branches were two molten eyes. Burning into the three men that were now scared shitless. Another growl – or was it a roar – came from the creature. The three remaining Raiders started running. Dutch and Arthur still frozen in their place as the beast emerged from the shadows.

The colossal beast was stood on its hind legs. Black fur covered its frame, some standing on end along it’s back and arms. Three thick lines ran down its face, crossing from the right side, over its nose and to its mouth. The mouth parted, baring its teeth in a snarl. It leant down onto all fours, growling in warning as Dutch reached for his revolver. He quickly raised his hands in surrender. The beast turned its head in the direction the Raiders had darted away. A small huff of a satisfaction came from it before turning its eyes back to the two men in front of it.

The beast howled. Tilting its head towards the sky and arching its body. Arthur and Dutch stumbled backwards from the shock it sent through them. Then when the howl started to die down, their eyes widened as the beast before them began to slowly shift. Like smoke had surrounded the beast, entangling itself around its frame and shifting its bones into a new alignment. The creature shrunk half a foot in size, still towering over the two men. Its claws retracted to hands; its snort pulled back into a human face. The black fur reseeded itself behind the flesh of the man. Until it all stopped and before Arthur and Dutch stood a man.

The man stood bare before them. If they hadn’t have just seen this man change from a beast to man before their very eyes, they would’ve averted their eyes from his naked form.

“Relax. I can smell the fear dripping from you.” The man gave a deep chuckle. He slowly retreated to the trees, bending down to pick up trousers from the ground.

“The name’s Miller.” The man introduces himself as he steps into the trousers. “Logan Miller.” He gives a pleasant smile to the two dumb struck men. Dutch is the first to come out of their confused haze, trying to get a grip on what he had saw.

“Dutch van der linde.” He speaks, still keeping a close eye on Logan. “Mind giving an explanation, son?” Logan laughs at his words as he pulls a brown shirt over his shoulders.

“Gladly. Just don’t call me son again.” Logan chuckles and buttons up his shirt. Arthur was now coming out of his haze as well. He stood on the defensive, knowing he still probably couldn’t take on the man.

“Ever hear stories as child about the men who howl at the moon?” Logan asks as he slips on his boots. Dutch and Arthur look at one another again.

“Literature. Fiction.” Dutch responds.

“But very much real.” Logan sighs as he walks closer to the men. Logan was taller than Dutch and Arthur. The scars that lined his face were prominent and jiggered. His dark hair hung over his forehead and his sapphires were warm and welcoming. A complete contrast to the seven foot monster he just was.

“You the one that been hunting and killing folk?” Arthur speaks up. His voice wavered but didn’t crack with the unsettling fear that pooled in his stomach. Logan’s smile disappears and a frown takes its place.

“Only those who killed my kind. Or those who seem to think its okay with hurting innocent people.” He explains and crosses his arms over his broad chest.

“There’s more of you then?” Dutch inquires with a raised eyebrow. Logan shakes his head and a sadness washes over his features as he looks to the moon.

“I’m the last of my kind.” He mutters then looks back to Arthur and Dutch. “My pack was wiped out years ago by hunters. I haven’t come across any of my kind since.”

The air was solemn then. Arthur and Dutch at a lost for words whilst Logan watched their reactions.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Dutch nods his condolences with his words. Logan smiles and then his attention is drawn to the approaching woman on a horse behind the two men. Dutch and Arthur turn to see Sadie riding up to them with a rifle at the ready.

“You men okay? Heard the gunshots from camp.” Sadie says as she comes to a halt.

“Perfectly well, Miss Adler.” Dutch assures her and then gestures to the man beside him. “This young man saved our lives.”

Logan had been fixated on Sadie as soon as he saw her coming. A heavy feeling in his chest and a gravity pulling him towards her. Sadie climbed down from her horse and closed the distance to join by Arthur’s side.

“Logan?” Arthur and Dutch both snap their heads towards Sadie as she recognises the man before her.

“Miss Adler.” Logan smiles down at the woman. Arthur and Dutch share a look of confusion once again.

“Wait a damned minute.” Arthur speaks up. “You know each other?” He points between Sadie and Logan – who had suddenly become a bashful idiot under the gaze of the woman.

“Yeah. He saved my life when I was a kid.” Sadie replies and smiles fondly at the memory of the wolf that had saved her from a gang that terrorised her family. Logan seems to remember too as he looks down at his boots and scratches the back of his neck. “What are you going out this way? Thought you preferred the grizzles?”

“Followed a familiar scent out this way.” Logan replies and then points to the two dumbstruck men. “Led me to these two. I was quite disheartened when it wasn’t you.”

“Son,” Dutch clears his throat when Logan turns his attention to him. “If I might be so forward, would you care to join us back to camp? Maybe you and Miss Adler can make up for lost time.” Logan smiles at the offer and looks back at Sadie.

“Happily.” He replies and follows them to their horses.

***

It was easy say that Logan didn’t leave the gang after that night. Having found a pack that he could protect again made him feel whole once more. No longer lonely with the fact he was the last of his kind.

The camp was also very welcoming to him. A few of the women – Karen and Mary-Beth – swooned over him.

“Who wouldn’t swoon over that beast of a man.” Karen had said one morning whilst sat with the other ladies mending clothes. Watching a shirtless Logan chopping wood as though he was slicing butter.

Sadie and Logan were very much attached at the hip. Logan following her anywhere that she would go. A lost puppy following its new owner, as Arthur had put it.

The camp were especially pleased when Logan had revealed that Micah had ratted them out to the Pinkertons. Logan never liked Micah from the moment he stepped foot into the camp. Something had seemed off about how he was sulk about and then disappear. Logan followed him one night and saw him with Milton and Ross and was immediately enraged. He spoke with Dutch and it led to the man putting a bullet through Micah’s skull.

They all celebrated that night.

Logan was also the first to notice Arthur’s illness and offered to change him. He gave Arthur time to think it over and in the end, he accepted. It took some time for him to adjust to the changes that he was going through, but with Logan’s help he got through it.

It wasn’t long after joining camp that Logan and Sadie shared their first kiss. The attraction between them was almost suffocating and when they finally acted on it, it was heaven. Sadie also asked to changed. This took Logan sometime to consider, but he finally did, and they were soon mated.

The camp had become family to Logan. They were willing to become wolves after seeing Arthur and Sadie go through it. Logan was the alpha, with Hosea, Dutch and Arthur as his Betas. He finally had a pack again.

Years down the line, the Pinkertons had given up their search for the van der linde gang. They were freed from the previous life they knew. Some chose to become ranchers, like John, Abigail and Jack. Arthur would stay with them and his mate, Freya. Who he had saved from some gang out in the grizzles one winter. Some wanted families of their own and would go looking for their mate. Logan remembered when Tilly came back with a man that she was head over heels for and when the man wasn’t scared of what they were, Logan knew that he would change him for Tilly.

Sadie had given birth to twin boys, Noah and Henry. They were adventurous and brave like their father but compassionate and loving like their mother.

Logan was happy that he had followed Sadie’s scent that day years ago. He had finally gotten the family that he had always longed for. Things were finally okay again for the lone Alpha.

#Red Dead Redemption #Red Dead #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption 2 imagine #red dead remdemption #arthur morgan #dutch van der line #van der linde gang #hosea matthews #john marston #abigail roberts #male original character #werewolf #sadie adler

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kpopisthereasonihavenolife · 6 years

Text

Retracted Claws | 01

BTS

Kim Taehyung/Reader [F]

Genre: Hybrid/Mafia AU, Violence, Fluff, Tae is soft as hell for Reader

Warnings!!: Mentions of past abuse (Mental/Physical/Sexual) and Slavery Implication

Words: 10.6k

He found a poor, stray kitten shivering on the streets, and he was determined to make sure she was kept safe.

————————

“Pull over,” Taehyung demand the driver as he sat in the backseat of his black, 2018 Mercedes-Benz S-Class. It was his choice of car to use when he was being taken from place to place with a driver. He was casually leaning his arm against the rest of his door, staring out of the spotted window, littered with raindrops. Legs crossed and more bored than he could imagine when he saw just a small glimpse of something.

“Sir?” The driver asked, almost to confirm he actually heard his boss speak to him.

“I said stop the fucking car.” The car slowed and screeched to a halt as it pulled to the curb. Taehyung had opened the door once the lock was pushed up and unlatched and stepped out into the rain. He heard his driver call out to him to grab something to shield him from the rain with, whether it be an umbrella or a coat to put over his blazer. It was just a little rain, it wouldn’t kill him, he would go without it.

With his hands in his pockets and a mint swirling over his tongue, he walked back on the pavement filled with puddles to wear he was almost confirmed what he saw was real. He got a glimpse of it before he was speed up just a bit more before standing in front of it.

Crouched down on the ground, curled into a ball on it’s side was a hybrid.

A female hybrid, shivering in the rain as she slept. The ears a top your hair were flat as you unconsciously wanted to shield yourself from the cold rain that pelted on your face and head. You hugged yourself, trying to keep warm, but to no avail. With nothing but a pair of shorts and a tank top that was well passed worn and your tail, matted with mud and water, wrapped around your waist.

You were half laying in a puddle that just kept growing, creeping up your bare feet to your ankles and pruning your toes and fingertips from exposure to the rain. Maybe you hadn’t been as out of it as he believed, because with the sound of the rain hitting the ground lightly altered with his form blocking a portion of it, you cracked open a tired eye. Seeing a pair of finely polished shoes, you shot up and without hesitation, started scurrying back, like you were in danger.

“Woah, hey,” he knelt down to your level to try and make eye contact with you, as your eyes remained downcast. “Calm down, it’s okay.” He took his hands out of his pockets and put them on the ground next to his knee as he knelt. “I’m not going to hurt you.” You looked at his hands then slowly moved to look up a bit, but not meet his eyes. Your sights set on his chin, not daring to go above his nose.

You had small cuts and bruises in random places of your body as well as a worn ring around your neck. It was like something had been so tight on your neck at some point that the skin became discolored in time. It was no doubt from your owner placing you on a collar. But, now you lacked any form of ownership. Without identification of clarity you had an owner, you would be picked up and dragged away by the pound at this point.

Your hair was like actual fur. Matted by the rain and your previous laying position, frizzing out here and there thanks to the added humidity the rain brought.

“Are you a stray?” You seemed unsure as to answer or not. If you answered no, you’d be forced to prove it, or if you answered yes, you’d risk being taken to a shelter. Hybrids weren’t regularly treated as actual beings. Normally placed in cages and kept as pets, no wonder you seemed shaken. “I’m not with any type of animal service. I’m not going to hurt you, I promise.” She seemed to lower her guard just a bit with his voice.

It was calm sounding, unshaken with trust and honesty. He really wouldn’t hurt you, and you could tell that in his voice, as well as his scent. The way he smelt to you was comforting. He smelt slightly of smoke, like cigarettes, but it was mixed with the smell of the rain and something rather sweet. You looked at his clothes as well. He was obviously well off. Shining black shoes, dress trousers that showed his black socks as they rose up the appropriate height above his ankles. A dress shirt and topped with a nice, black blazer that he allowed to succumb to the rain. Most definitely not good for the fabric it was laced with. When you finally looked up, you saw his eyes were dark, yet soft towards you and his blond hair was damp with the rain.

“Do you have an owner?” He asked you again, and you slowly shook your head. It was true, but at the time same time it wasn’t. You hadn’t belonged somewhere in a long time, but you kept finding your way back to the same hell hole. It was the only place you were familiar with. It was currently your 6th time running away and trying to stay away without going back on a threads notices. The owners of the place you came from were familiar with your ‘game’ of run and return, so they were expecting you any day now.

“So, you’re a stray? Under no one’s name as a hybrid? No ownership?” You shook your head again. The owners never really ‘adopted’ you per say. And it was a relief they didn’t You had that sense of minuscule freedom to keep to yourself, everything else was gone, stolen by them.

“I am me.” You muttered, almost too quietly for him to hear over the rain. He nodded as he shrugged off his blazer, the action was a bit too quick for you and made you jump. He calmed you down as he stopped and held his hands out, showing you he was harmless again.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. I’m just taking off the jacket, see?” He slowly moved and pushed the thick fabric of his shoulders and down his arms. Pulling it around his body, he held it open in front of him and showed you that it was harmless and held nothing in any of the 5 pockets it had; both inside and outside pockets. He took a small step closer to you and you flinched as you watched him. “Shh,” he shushed as he slowly draped the blazer over your shaking shoulders.

It was entirely too big for you, engulfing you like it would a hanger when it hung in the closet in his room. But, it was warm. It was damp just slightly, but the warmth from his skin and body that had soaked into it was wrapped around you and your eyes closed just barely in bliss. It was such a contrast to the cold, rainy air around you.

Taehyung smiled gently at you as he reached out to pet your head, making you jolt when his fingers brushed your cat ear. He pulled his hand back a bit before you relaxed just a moment and he put his hand back on your head. His open palm was large and warm, just like his blazer as you pushed your head up to meet his hand. He cocked his head a bit to the side as he slid his hand down to your forehead, feeling your fever that the rain was responsible for.

“Would you like to come with me?” You had heard that phrase before. And it terrified you. Always behind closed doors was when things took a turn for the absolute worst. You hated that phrase. Loathed it. But, somehow, that one phrase seemed so different when it came out of his mouth. It wasn’t cloaked in lust, bargaining or ulterior motive. It was just him, just offering and just asking. He was asking you, not asking around you to the figures that normally stood behind you.

“Let’s get out of this rain, yeah?” You slowly nodded as he offered you a hand of his, and you took it, him helping you up slowly, as to make sure you were at least strong enough to stand on your own. “My name is Taehyung. What’s yours?” You shook your head. You didn’t have one, or if you did, you hadn’t heard it called in so long you’d forgotten it.

“I have no name.” He shook his head at your response.

“Well, that won’t do. We’ll think of a proper name for you once we’re dry.” You didn’t nod, only looked down. It was something meaningful for hybrids to be named. So, hearing him declare he’d name you made you feel like you’d belong somewhere. It was a fleeting hope, a passing moment and you were sure he wouldn’t stick around long enough to use that name he would give you.

Taehyung moved to your side and placed his hand on the small of your back, slightly pushing you forward to start walking with him. Taking small steps with him, he lead you to his car where he opened the door by the curb and gestured for you to climb in. You sat in the seat and scooted over enough for him to climb in right after you and shut the door. The lock clicked down securely, trapping you in the space with him and the driver.

You hid your face with the sleeves of his blazer you had slipped your arms in for more warmth, hiding from the driver who was busy staring at you in the rear-view mirror of the car. Taehyung kicked the back of the driver’s seat and jutted his chin out, signalling him to knock it off.

“Home,” he spoke clearly. More harshly than he had spoken to you before. You had finally looked up enough to see his eyes, and they were cold, hard and dark as they spoke to the driver through the small wall and seats. “And roll the divider up. I don’t appreciate you staring at her, and I doubt she doesn’t either.” He nodded only before flipping a switch and a black screen rolled up the middle of the vehicle. You’d never seen something like that in a car before. Limousines maybe, but cars?

Taehyung saw your confusion and chuckled at you, raising his hand to pet you once again, your hair damp under his palm. Tangled and not as smooth as a cat’s fur should be. He’d make sure to wash and detangle it when he got back home.

“I had this car specifically modified for me.” You only looked at him a moment before looking down. “Come, lay on my lap.” He pat his legs as you looked up to him, confused. He chuckled again as he gently grabbed behind your neck and pulled you towards him and down, until you were laying on your side across the back seats and your head was in his lap. He pat at your side, covering you more with his blazer to keep you warm.

The sweet smell you caught earlier in the rain was the scent of his detergent he must use. It was pleasant. You felt your eyes droop and you struggled to stay awake. Whatever it was about this man and his friendly oversight, it still had you on edge. He was kind, too kind and it kept you alert. Yet, all you wished to do was curl into his lap and sleep like you were basking in the sun.

“It’s alright. Just sleep and I’ll wake you up when we get to my home, Kitten. It’ll be a while yet. I won’t do anything, I promise.” Once again, he spoke words that had been said to you before behind doors and pushed into sheets, but he was soft and kind with the way he spoke. He truly sounded like he wanted you to trust me.

With a fleeting thought about it, about him, and about you, you felt your eyes close and next thing you new, the swaying of the car, the gentle, rhythmic patting on your side from his hand and his low hums sunk you into sleep.

When Taehyung noticed you finally out of it, he leaned forward and knocked on the window divider, having it roll down just enough to talk to his driver.

“Turn the heat higher, and make a call for me.” He looked down at you sleeping on his lap, one of your hands fisting the fabric of his trousers as it peeked out of his blazer sleeve. Unconsciously, you were trying to hold onto the warmth you were sure was lost to you. He scratched gently behind your ear as you hummed and buried yourself further into his lap. It was like you were a starved cat, craving affection.

“Contact Jimin, I have someone I’d like to register under my name.”

“Are you planning on keeping the girl sir?” He smiled as he continued to pet and gently prod at you. It was odd for him to become attached to something. But, you were so small, weak, frail. It was like you were a true animal, mewls and crying for help as you sat in a cardboard box, waiting for someone to come by and pick up you. He couldn’t let you be taken away by some sickos in a jumpsuit because you had cat ears, a tail and no collar.

“She needs a home. So, I’ll take her in.” He motioned for the screen to be rolled back up as he kept petting you while he rose his gaze to look at the window. The car once again rolled through puddles and hit small dips in the road. But, now, instead of mindlessly gazing in boredom, he stared in though on what perfect name to give to his new Kitten.

XXX

“Time to wake up now, Kitten. We’re here.” You felt a gentle tapping on your arm as a soft, baritone voice tried prying you out of your slumber. You hadn’t slept so well and warm in so long, you were very reluctant in the action of waking up. You heard the voice laugh lightly as they touched your ears, causing you to purr in response. Then, your instincts finally began to kick in.

You pushed yourself off the lap you were laying on and ended up rolling down to the floorboard of the car you were in. Effectively wedging yourself between the front and back seats and becoming stuck. Arms tucked on either side of you and feet hung on the seat you were laying in before. You heard laughing as you craned your head to look up and see who it was that found this humorous.

“That was quite graceful.” A familiar voice and eve more familiar face. Oh, that’s right. This man had picked you up off the street. You decided to go with him, wherever he was going to. He smiled at you and poked at your nose. “You remember me now?” You flush as you nodded at him. “Good, now let’s get you out, shall we?”

Taehyung hooked his hands under your arms behind you and carefully unwedged you. He sat you on his lap as he chuckled at your red face from the new proximity, or lack thereof. He was obviously NOT shy. You shyly slid off his lap as he chuckled and opened his car door, stepping out. He waved to have you follow him and so you did. Sliding out you got out onto the ground and looked at the giant building in front of you.

A giant manor stood before you down a long driveway. You were just barely outside of the city. An area that seemed almost suburban, but still also considered city folk. The houses, significantly smaller, that neighbored the manor almost seemed to go together. Like they were meant to be with each other when they were built. With the same spotless white paint and auburn trim and roofing, it was like it’s own town with an almost unnecessary gate around the entire property. It was like stepping into another world.

The manor was still quite a walk away, since you both exited the car right after entering the gates that just screeched to a close behind you. Taehyung figured he’d walk you to the door to kick start your weak legs. He offered you his arm to lean on as he wanted to start walking.

“You’ll be living in this manor with me.” He looked at you and smiled. “That is, if you want to.” You knew nothing about this man other than his name. But, he was kind to you; even if you saw a coldness to his eyes earlier, he looked at you like he was gazing at stars. And you were so tired.

Tired of running. Not belonging. Tired of being nameless, of being homeless. Tired of not trusting. You had to change, maybe this is where you start again. Here, with him. This man. With Taehyung.

“Come on,” he starts. “We’ll get you home, dry and warm. Along with getting you some medicine for that fever of yours. Sound like a plan?” You nodded as the two of you walked, soon climbing up the short amount of steps to finally reach the front door of the manor. The inside is what you expect, but still absolutely breathtaking.

Stepping through the door about 20 feet in front of the entrance was a staircase that went up only half a flight and then split off into two opposite directions of left and right, leading to their respective wings. The foyer itself was large enough for a party for people to mingle in and on each of its four walls was a door, leading to 4 different rooms. Fine wood, elegant wallpaper and stainless carpet, you almost felt guilty stepping inside with how filthy you were.

A dirty, wet and sick hybrid stray that walked a fairy tale house fit for a prince. You were half convinced that Taehyung was just that, even if you knew it was a far fetched thought.

Taehyung looked down and saw your eyes sparkle and mouth drop ever so slightly as he shut the door behind him, stepping inside with you a bit further. You looked around, up and down, left and right and watched your bare feet sink into the carpet, wiggling your toes. Your ears twitched at the sounds, or soundless surroundings and your tail flicked in curiosity. Your nose sniffed here and there to capture the smell of fresh wood, and cleanliness. You were too precious.

You were nearly settled down, but became startled once more when the door behind you opened once again without notice and someone stepped inside behind you two. Taehyung had already turned around to greet his guest as you jumped and ran behind him, shielding yourself from the stranger with his back as you held onto the fabric of his shirt. Taehyung smiled as he put his hands on his hips seeing the man he had contacted earlier.

Messy, blond hair. Big brown eyes and a lithe stature, but still sporting a fair share of bulk to him. A pair of jeans hugged his thighs with a black, front tucked t-shirt and jacket to cover his arms. Finally, a grey bag slung over his shoulders that hung at his hip. He also had the scent of rain on him as he ran his finger through his damp hair.

“Looking mighty comfortable today, aren’t we Jimin?” Taehyung chuckled, earning himself a glare.

“It was supposed to be my day off.” Jimin shot back. “Why’d you call for me anyways?”

Taehyung looked over his shoulder and asked you quietly and softly to come out and say hello. He promised that Jimin wouldn’t harm you and he was a friend of him. Also adding on that he himself wouldn’t leave your side at all. You had nothing to fear. You peeked your body around Taehyung to properly look at who you were faced with.

Jimin’s stern face melted at the sight of you. Adorably peeking around his younger friend and draped in his jacket. He smiled as he bent his knees a bit showing a gentle nature towards you.

“Hello there. My, aren’t you a cutie.” You shied away while Jimin stood back up and addressed Taehyung once more. “I wasn’t aware you got yourself a hybrid.” Taehyung shrugged as he looked down at you, your eyes unsure and shaky. He moved his hand to cradle your own that clutched his arm to try and soothe you.

“It was a spur of the moment decision. But, she is mine, I just need to actually register her under my name.” You gripped at Taehyung’s arm tighter, feeling his hand over yours, wanting to know if his words were true. If he meant it. He sounded like he was planning to-

“You’re wanting to adopt her then?” Jimin questioned.

Taehyung looked down at you and saw the hopeful spark in your dulled eyes. It was his goal to see them shine like he was sure they once did in your life. He didn’t know how you lived before him, if you had a family or not, but this is what he wanted. He smiled to you.

“Is that alright with you?” You wasted no time in hastily nodding. Taehyung looked back to Jimin. “That answers that. Can you do it?”

“I work with a protection foundation predominately for hybrid rescues. Of course I can.” Taehyung lead Jimin into the living you, you trailing after him. Taehyung sat in a chair placed at the end of the coffee table as Jimin took the sofa that was next to it. He began digging through his bag taking out papers, pens and some equipment. Taehyung took your hand and tugged you gently to him to sit between his legs on the sofa as he kept his arms around your waist.

“First things first,” Jimin pulled out a small clamp and opened it to make sure it wouldn’t stick. It was small and had a pad of gauze on the inside of it. “Identification. I’ll show you how this works so you can see it’s harmless, okay?” You nodded at him.

The small clamp wraps around the tip of his finger as he sets it in place. “First, you place it on your finger like this and once it’s secured, a small needle punctures your fingertip, just enough for a tiny drop of your blood. It doesn’t hurt, just a little pinch and done. After that, the gauze on the inside catches your blood and scans it, then delivers it to my scanner screen.” A small screen was beside him on the sofa. Black screened and lifeless for the moment. You only assumed it was hooked through a Bluetooth-similar fashion to the clamp.

It didn’t sound too horrible, but a large portion of you was worried. The screen would light up and it would tell Jimin everything about you. However, you didn’t want to know your real name. Taehyung promised to name you. You wanted the name he would choose. Your hands fisted in your lap as Taehyung peered over your shoulder and noticed your hesitation, but remained silent.

“Ready?” Jimin asked you as you nodded and gave him your hand. He gently took it and clamped the scanner piece over your index fingertip. “Now, it’ll pinch in 3, 2, 1-” you jolted when you felt it and a few seconds later the scanner screen came to life. Your picture and information for him to see and read over all from your one small drop of blood.

He removed the clamp from you and you brought your hand back to your face, seeing the small puncture with the smallest bead of blood on it. Taehyung took your wrist and brought your finger to his lips, kissing the small wound as he then tucked your hand back into your lap. Jimin took the screen into his hands and tapped around a bit.

“Well, for starters, about your name-”

“Jimin,” Taehyung cut him off. “We don’t need to know that. I’ll be giving her a new name. I promised I would, and I’m not the kind of man to go back on something like that.” Jimin looked at you for confirmation and you nodded once more.

“Alright. We can decide on one at the end of the process.” 20 minutes of paperwork, signing and fingerprinting later, the three of you came to the final step needed to complete and finalize the task of Taehyung adopting you as his. A name. “Do you have any ideas Tae?” He nodded as he wrapped his arms tighter around your waist and used one of his legs to tuck under you, pulling you back against his chest, resting his head next to yours.

“My little Kitten’s name will be Y/N.”

XXX

After Taehyung had told you your name, you felt so much relief that you had actually fallen asleep. So much stress and burden was lifted off you, you just fell asleep, right there. Taehyung excused himself, but asked Jimin to stay a bit longer and took you up to his room. He placed you on his bed and tucked you in, making sure you’d stay warm. He’d monitor your fever when you woke up.

Taehyung went back down to Jimin and sat back in his chair as he crossed his legs. Jimin was putting the papers back into his bag and Taehyung caught sight of his scanner screen, still displaying your information.

“Jimin, I want to know about her. Tell me all you have.” Jimin nodded as he took the screen in his hand and tapped around a bit on it before handing it to Taehyung.

“Well, for starters, she didn’t even have a proper name. She was registered in the system at birth with just a serial number, so she was probably a child birthed at a specialized lab. HB3LL13. That was her number.” Taehyung read over a few things as Jimin sat back against the sofa, fiddling with a pen he plucked out of his bag to entertain himself with. “Furthermore, she’s not your average house cat. She’s a predator hybrid, but she’s docile which is definitely a red flag that she was probably living rough until now.”

“Predator, huh? How specific are we talking about.” Taehyung read through her birth-date, her blood type, her allergies and age as Jimin spoke.

“A Bengal tiger.” Taehyung set the scanner screen on his legs as he looked at Jimin with a skeptical gleam in his eyes.

“Bengal tiger? They’re populated in an Indian subcontinent, are they not? Why would she be here if she were so?”

“It’s possible she was bred into an Indian lab and shipped overseas at a young age. There’s no record of birth or relocation to gain from a single blood droplet. However, with enough digging, I could get you your answers. It’d just take some time.” Taehyung put the screen on the table for Jimin to take back.

“Do it. Find anything that might tell me about who she is, or was before now. Even the most minuscule detail is vital. Understood?” Jimin nodded as he packed away his screen and leaned his elbows on his knees.

“You’ll need to get a form of possession for her.”

“You mean a collar.”

“Well, maybe not specifically that, but something. Something for the fuckers working for the pound to know she’s not a stray. As well as you know in your line of work when word of he gets out, she’ll likely be a target.”

“I’ll take her out to the mall one day, maybe they’ll have something there for her.” Jimin looked at his friend who disregarded the end of his advice.

“You’re really serious about this huh? Adopting and taking care of her on your own, with no reason at all other than you wanted to at the spur of the moment.” Taehyung looked at the ceiling. He wasn’t a good man, he knew this. His life and job were dangerous, just sitting in his house he still had to be a fraction on guard. But, seeing you there, he had to do something.

“It’s hard to explain Chim,” Jimin knew it he was beginning to be sincere at the use of the familiar nickname of his. “I can’t explain it, but when I saw her laying in a puddle of water, freezing all alone, I couldn’t help myself. She needed someone, and I was there, I had to help her. Maybe dragging her along with me wasn’t what needed to happen. Maybe I should have taken her to a shelter instead, but when she fell asleep on my lap, I couldn’t let her go. She needs me.”

Jimin smiled at him as he rose from the sofa and took his back, pulling it over his shoulder. He was skeptical at first, but he knew that Taehyung would end up doing okay. He had faith him.

“Well, I’m going to head back and process everything. Don’t forget to get her some of her own clothes and stuff she’ll need and you need to keep her safe. And, even if you don’t want to, explain what you do Tae. Don’t keep it from her, it could put her in more than one dangerous situation. I’ll get back to you if I figure anything else out.”

Taehyung nodded, already planning a way to gather the heads of his units and clarify who you were and that if anyone laid a finger on her they wouldn’t be let off easy. He lifted himself off his chair as he walked Jimin to the door. He pat his friends back, sending him off and then shut the door, locking it behind him.

He’d take a shower and wash off while you slept. In the meantime, after a shower, he had papers to go through, information to fax and request and blueprints to look over. All that and more. Just another days work, only now he had a little pet to take care of now. He was excited to see how this would affect his life. He’d have to go through some connections to make sure he didn’t have to slap a collar on you and would find a different alternative. You were no mere pet, you were his. You deserved no collar.

XXX

You weren’t fully aware that you had even passed out earlier, but you found yourself slowly waking up underneath something heavy and warm. Almost purring around it, you took in the familiar scent. It smelt of Taehyung. You pushed yourself to sit up and as you looked around the dimly lit room from the cloudy weather outside, the door to the bedroom opened and in stepped the man whom the room smelt of.

His shirt was untucked from his pants and nearly half the buttons were undone on it, showing a large portion of his chest. You could just barely detect some faint scars peeking out from underneath the fabric of his shirt thanks to your feline senses. He stepped into his room, smiling as he saw you awake.

“Good morning, little one.” You nodded to him in return. He stepped over to you and felt your forehead. It wasn’t nearly as warm as earlier. Perhaps all you needed as decent sleep. Still, you wore your dirty clothes and his jacket from before. You needed a bath and clean clothes ASAP. “Say, I was getting ready to wash up. Would you like a bath Kitten?”

It was stereotypical for a cat to not enjoy baths, but as the words left his lips, your face lit up. You nearly jumped out of bed, tumbling out from under his blankets, making him scramble to catch you before your face hit the floor. He tucked his arms under yours as he effortlessly lifted you up onto his chest to hold you like a child. Legs around his waist as he tried to not drop you from laughing.

“Honestly, don’t rush around like that. You’ll give me a heart attack.” He chuckled lightly at you, almost sounding childlike. “Shall we bathe together?” You face grew red. You weren’t shy at showing your body per say, but this man was much more attractive than you thought was possible and with such looks, he was genuinely comfortable and kind to you. “You’re not shy are you, little one?” You shook your head as he then started off to the ensuite bathroom of his, carrying you around like he’d done it all his life.

The bathroom was just as magnificent as the rest of the manor so far. You were honestly convinced this place had no bad looking room. The shower doors that were fogged with decorated glass came off the walls and you swore it would fit 6 people with room to spare. The tub was separate, large and oval as the facut hung from the wall above it. The tile was spotless under Taehyung’s feet and everything shines. The toilet sat, white and clean, below the long mirror above the vanity of two sinks and racks for washcloths and hand towels was without any water spots or streaks. A wooden shelf running across the wall held folded bath towels and bathmats, ready and willing to be used.

The soft blues and whites in the room made you feel comfortable, save even. Taehyung moved and sat you on the edges of the sink vanity as he pulled on the lapel of his blazer you had refused to removed.

“Now, this will have to go.” You whined at him as he started pushing it off your shoulders and finally slipping it off you to reveal your torn and dirty clothes from before, now with additional wrinkles in them. “Can you undress yourself, or do you need help with it Kitten?” You shook your head as he nodded and turned his back and stepped away from you. He moved to the tub and started the water as you watched it begin to fill with warm water.

Taehyung kept his back to you as he worked on unbuttoning the remained buttons on his shirt and then moved to roll the fabric off his shoulders and around his back as he tossed it behind him into a sink. You were right, on his back were small cuts and nicks that were scarred. His back was well sculpted though, tense and muscular as you watched his arms move in front of him, working with his trousers.

You looked away as he undressed the rest of the way and soon heard him step into the water of the tub that was nearly a quarter full. You hopped off the sink vanity and rid yourself of your rags as you went and knelt in front of the side of the tub, hiding your body from him as you crouched and rested your chin on the tub’s edge, earning a chuckle and head pat from Taehyung.

“Still shy?”

“I’m not, but-”

“I’ll close my eyes.” Taehyung put his arms on either side of the tub and craned his neck back to look at the ceiling before fluttering his eyes closed. The hot water just fogged enough to make everything blurry underneath it’s surface. You use to fear the contact of other men, but with him just like with everything else so far, it was different.

You did as you thought you should and without question. You stood and lifted one of your bruised legs up and slowly dipped it into the steaming warm water. Taehyung kept his eyes closed as he felt move through the water in front of him and soon you lowered yourself in front of him. The water rose further up his chest as he soon felt your sides graze his legs.

“Can my eyes be opened yet?” You nodded, but then quickly hummed in approval at him as he opened his eyes, adjusting to the light he previously had blacked out. You sat in front of him with your knees tucked into your chest, arms around them as you hid as much as your body as you could. Your back was on display for him, as he looked at the scars, burn and healing bruises on your skin. Discoloring your back and wrapping around your waist and shoulders. The raw skin from your previous collar even more visible now. Your tail flowed gracefully under the water and brushed against his legs, making you tense.

He reached out and ran his hands over your hand, making you squeak. He retracted his hand as he leaned forwards.

“Did you get these from your previous home?”

“I wouldn’t call it a home. But, to answer your question: yes.” You wrapped your arms around yourself tighter as he touched your scars and seethed at every single one of them and how you how you may or may not have got them.

“What kind of place did you stay at before I found you? If you don’t mind my asking.” You sighed as you though back. You didn’t enjoy talking, even thinking about that house, but the sooner it’s out of your mind, the sooner the memories and scar may disappear with the words.

“It was a business home. They used their home as a work place and offered me housing if I agreed to work for them. I didn’t have to pay anything, only my labor. But-” could you really say it out loud? You’ve said it so many times in your head before now, but actually letting the words leave your lips seems to be a bit more difficult. Taehyung had a few ideas swimming around in his head, none of which made him smile. Everything was dark and tense.

You were quiet for a moment more. All while Taehyung waited patiently for you to be ready. Frankly, he was surprised your were even talking to him at all. You were so shy and distant when he found you and when Jimin was around you.

“They were bad people. They- they would sell me to people at night and demand that I do chores and serving during the daytime. Touching, demanding, proding, hitting me, they were awful people.”

“You- you mean to tell me you were enslaved at a brothel?!” Anger. He was angry beyond belief. Some sickos looked at you and decided you’d make a good doll to be used for some pervert’s sexual fantasy? Disgusting. They were abso-fucking-lutely disgusting.

“I’m sorry,” you actually whimpered at him. The truth hurt, but it hurt you far more than it enraged him. He acted on impulse as he wrapped his arms around your midsection, locking them in place around you and pulled you to his chest. The water splashed over the side of the tub at his quick actions. His head leaned against yours as he shook it.

“Do not. Don’t you ever apologize for something you couldn’t control. It doesn’t change who you are. You’re my little Kitten, my Y/N, regardless of your past. Your present and future are here. Even if I’m a bad man too, I won’t hurt you. Not like them. You have my word.”

You wanted nothing more than to sob out all the heartache you’ve taken and endured for years. However, the tears wouldn’t come. They were traded in with the distant stare you locked onto the walls in front of you with as Taehyung held onto your for dear life. You sought comfort and maybe, finally, your fingertips could graze onto the string of fate dangingly so temptingly in front of your gaze. Directly behind your eyelids, as the freedom of peace was always but a daydream to you.

He slowly loosened his grip around you, but blatantly refused to fully release you.

“Y/N?” He called for your attention.

“Yes?”

“Once we’re done, I need to show you something. There’s something you need to know about me . something that might scare you, but it’s important.”

“Alright. I understand Mister Taehyung.” The high-strung tension vanished instantly as you heard Taehyung behind you actually gag. “Mister Taehyung?”

“Don’t say it twice!” He all but whined.

“Say it? Say what?”

“Don’t call me ‘Mister’. I’ll literally beg you to never do that again.”

“But- you’re my owner. Isn’t just calling you Taehyung rude?” He smiled at the sound of his name without a title or honorific coming out of your mouth. He shook his head as he began shampooing your hair and cleaning the fur of your ears.

“Not at all. I quite like the way you call my name. Do it more often.” You nodded as you relaxed with his ministrations in grooming you. Scrubbing on your head softly with his dull nails and cleaning your ears gently. “Oh, one more thing, Kitten. We’re only owner and hybrid on paper. In reality, you’re simply mine and as such, I’m going to devote my all to you. So, rest assured.”

You flushed at his more than bold declaration. As he poured a pitcher of water over your head to clear your hair of soap, he saw your red ears and neck and felt your tail wrap around his thigh lightly. He smiled as he started gushing at you and your actions.

“You’re adorable!”

XXX

“Ah-ha! Here it is!” Taehyung was digging through a box of his old clothes he kept stored in his closet as you sat on the edge of his bed with a towel wrapped around your chest. “Here, you can wear this.” He turned around and showed you a big, loose, purple flannel. “It’s too small for me now, but I’ve had it since highschool and I got too sentimental to actually get rid of it. What hoarder, I know.” He chuckled as he walked up to you and motioned for you to stand with his hands. “Come on, Kitten. Up, up.”

You got up as Taehyung reached out and tucked the top of your towel into itself to secure it around you and at the same time free your hands so you didn’t have to hold it. He then slung the flannel around your shoulders and let you slide your arms through the sleeves. He buttoned it from the bottom up and once finished with only the top button remaining undone, he gifted you with a pair of boxers. Something was better than nothing after all.

“They should be big enough for your tail to slip through the bottom of them, but we can always cut a hole it that’ll be easier for you.” You shook your head and wrapped your tail around your leg, tucking it in as you slid the fabric up your legs. You didn’t want to be a bother because of your tail.

So, there you stood. Clean hair and fluffy tail wrapped around your leg. Skin clean of dirt and bandaids plastered everywhere on you; curitousy and demanding of Taehyung to cover your cuts. Now dressed in his old flannel that hid his boxers, boxers that were also hemmed to the side to accommodate your waist differences. You resembled a figuren, a limited edition doll almost, but so much better.

Taehyung wanted to take you down stairs to at least try and get you to eat, but the bliss that was standing in the silence with you was sudden broken. The smile on his face instantly fell at the sound of his phone going off, or rather his work phone. He had two, one for his own personal use and one for his job. He turned from you as he went to his desk in the corner of the room, picked it up as he answered it.

“What.” His voice dropped, and it was sharp. Almost like it wasn’t Taehyung talking. You gripped the end of your sleeves as he turned to lean against the wall and talk. “The shipment payment was to be taken and exchanged upon delivery and inspection. Is there a reason why you’re calling me when protocol is so fucking easy to follow?” He was silence as he tapped his foot on the ground, annoyance painting his one soft features when he spoke to you.

Suddenly he was pushing off the wall and marching, rather stomping, towards his separate wardrobe he had in the back corner of his room. It was locked, as he pulled a key around of his desk drawer before heading over.

“I swear I can’t fucking leave anything for you idiots to do. Keep tracking the car of the supplier, and next time, don’t skip out on the inspection. If we’re short anything I may possibly need and don’t get back, it’s your head.” He quickly hung up the phone as he tossed it somewhere and you just watched him. You walked to his side as he unlocked his door, but didn’t open it. He sighed instead, feeling you next to him, just a step behind.

“Y/N,” he refused to turn and look at you. “I mentioned before I’m not a good man. I’m actually probably the furthest thing from a good man.” He sighed again as he opened his wardrobe and revealed some hanging clothes, a flowered trench coat with a slit up the tail of it and a full white mask hanging on the door. There were wooden boxes that were closed up, but when he opened one, it showed a rather wide collection of knives. Ranging from Swiss army knives to brutal looking hunting knives. You could only imagine what the bigger box stored in there was.

The floral printed coat seemed dark to look at, even with the white printed flowers littered the black cloak of it, the black was overpowering. Taehyung ruffled his blonde, nearly dry, yet still damp hair as he pulled the t-shirt he had on off.

“I had just gotten comfortable too,” he muttered under his breath with malice. “I swear, they can’t do a fucking thing right. My numbers may be thinning soon.” You watched as he pulled a black button up over his shoulders and traded in his sweats for a pair of leather pants with belts around his thighs and multiple pockets. He tucked his shirt in his pants when he buttoned it and tucked a few knives into various pockets. He reached for the second, larger box but stopped half way. He could feel your eyes staring at him. The entire time you’ve been staring and silence, almost starving for an explanation.

“Y/N, turn around.”

“Huh?”

“Please, just turn around. I don’t want you to see this.” You slowly nodded, as you turned your back. You heard him rustling around in the box as he attached something to his belt and you heard the sound of clicking and metal scraping and you knew what the sound was. It wasn’t hard to guess. “You may turn back now.”

When you did, he was pulling his trench coat over his shoulders, letting it drape around his shoulders and hang loosely on his body. As the end of the coat settled, you saw the thing attached to him that he wanted your eyes to miss. The loaded gun strapped to his hip.

“Taehyung.”

“I’ll explain everything, but I have something to do right now.” He grabbed the mask off the inside of his wardrobe door and then started shutting the giant wooden doors. He locked it up and turned around, meeting your gaze. His eyes weren’t as soft as before, but they held a distant cold to them. They weren’t threatening, but they seemed almost dangerous. But, you didn’t feel like you were in danger.

“Taehyung.”

“Y/N, please. Just wait here for me.” You shook your head. You wanted to know. He promised to tell you, now he wanted you to stay and wait. You never sought answers, never pried for information, always stayed back in your hole and space of comfort. But after what he told you, what he promised you in the bath? You needed to know.

“Let me come.”

“No.”

“I want to. Please. You promised!” Your eyes widened in your pleas. He was actually starting to crumble. He was always so adamant about his decisions, but you’re making him questions so much. Too much. He sighed as he rubbed his neck. “Please. You promised…” You muttered as you looked at your bare feet. He sighed again, this time higher pitched and almost defeated.

“I suppose, if you came along, I could get some stuff out of the way.” Your ears perked up from their laying position on your head at him. “But, you need to know that I’m different than I am here. I’m going to act… strange. I might even end up scaring you. Are you sure you want to go?” You nodded as he nodded finally giving in. “Fine then. Stick to my side and never once leave it. If you have to, hold onto me.”

And as he left his room, you were trotted after him, satisfied as he looked over his shoulder at you chasing him. Just what has he gotten himself into? And why was he wrapped around your finger already?

XXX

30 minutes later, after climbing in his car from before and seeing him watch out the stopped rain and wet world outside the window, you noticed the crease in his brow. He was more than annoyed at the phone call he got earlier. How could they take a shipment and not proof it before handing over the money? Are they that thick headed? Or are pieces of their brain flying out their nose each time they blow it. He didn’t know, but he’d definitely do something about it. It was either fix the situation or fix them.

“When we’re done here, we’ll drive by some place to get you something to eat. Any preferences?” He spoke so suddenly you were surprised and your response delayed a bit. You had no idea what you wanted to eat. You’ve never had the option of ever choosing before.

“Um, no? You can choose and I’ll eat what you do.” Taehyung chuckled as the car rolled to a stop.

“That won’t do. We’ll decide together later. You definitely need proper food in you, who knows when the last time you properly ate was.” You nodded as the car parked and he was opened his door to step out, you sliding across the seat and getting out right after him. Just as he had told you, you stuck to his side, just a step behind him as he walked towards a large, metal warehouse. It looked abandoned, but maybe not.

You saw a few men here and there outside. Dressed in white or black shirts and black pants. Hats or sunglasses and guns strapped on every single one of them. You reached and grabbed the back of the sleeves of Taehyung’s arm as he glanced at you just for a moment before returning his gaze forwards and entering the warehouse.

Inside, there was a group of men, 5 of them, all around a large wooden shipping box with wood reinforcements around it’s outer faces. The top was pried open and set on the ground beside it with a few crowbars sitting around it. Taehyung had mentioned on the phone about a shipment.

The men quickly took notice to Taehyung’s presence and the sound of his shoes hitting the hard, warehouse floors covered in a still shining coat of epoxy. They also took notice of you, clinging to the sleeve of his trench coat and trailing behind him with flat ears. Taehyung thought nothing of their stares and proceeded to the giant crate and stood in front of it, not looking inside quite yet.

“Give me the report.” Taehyung held his arm out to the side, indicating that he was to be handed something. Thus, not a moment later, a clipboard was put in his hand as he brought it to him and read through the papers at a remarkably fast pace. Eyes zipping back and forth and taking in information like he’d done it since he was born. “Military Firearms shipment. From my men leaking to me overseas, correct?”

“Yes sir,” the man who handed him the clipboard quietly replied. He sounded guilt, like he’d done something wrong. And according to Taehyung sour mood, he probably did.

“10 Beretta M9’s, 12 Glock 17’s, 10 M16A1’s, 15 AK-47’s, 3 RPG-7’s, 3 SRS99D Sniper Rifles, 4 AW 50 Sniper Rifles, 6 Stealth Recon Scouts, 8 Uzi’s, 20 Smoke Grenades, 20 Mk 2 Grenades and 15 M84 Stun Grenades. On top of which the shipment of all the extra ammunition and my magazine refills for my personal firearms. ” He read aloud the listen of items that was in the supposed shipment and with each weapon he named off, you got more and more worried about the constantly lowering of his baritone voice.

He leaned against the crate as you stepped to the side a bit, finally dropping his sleeve. You weren’t scare per say, but the heavy atmosphere made it hard to breath and just twitching your finger you felt could ignite sparks in the air. The superior and dominate behavior of the Taehyung in front of you was nothing like the man who held you and coddled you just 40 minutes ago in the bathtub.

He said he was a bad man, even scary. But, were you truly scared?

“If you had the list of materials, then why the hell was I called here?” He asked in a eerily calm voice that sent jolts of unpleasant shivers down the spine of every man in the room.

“Well, you see sir-” The man moved his arms to try and reason not just with his voice, but his body. Taehyung wasn’t coming in closer to calming down and just stood up to his full height and approached the man, crossing his arms and staring down his nose at the shorter male.

“Take me back to the store room and let me personal see each and every single firearm we received. Then, I’ll decide the course of action and disciplinary measures for any of your shortcomings.” The man only nodded as he turned and Taehyung quickly turned to you and jolted his chin for you to come to his side.

“Listen to me Kitten,” he whispered to you as he took your hand and opened your palm. He pulled something out of his pocket and placed it in your hand then curled your fingers around it protectively. The chilled metal of it made your ears stand up on your head. “Don’t be afraid. Keep this and stay here, right here. If climbing inside that crate and covering your eyes makes you feel better, don’t hesitate to do it. I’ll be 5 minutes max. I just don’t want you to see what’s back there yet.” You nodded as he brought your hand to his lips, kissing your tightened knuckles lightly before giving you a pat on the head and sending you back before he was off to some far off backroom.

Now, you were left alone in a room full of at least 7 other strangers, men to be precise with nothing but a sharpened switchblade in your hand.

With folded and flat ears, you were quick to turn and run to the crate, hopeful to hop right inside like Taehyung said. The walls of the crate would surely offer some sort of solace you assumed. You were just as the side of the crate, ready to grab the edge and clamber on inside when you suddenly felt a harsh tug on your tail.

With a startled, and painful, yelp and instinctive hiss from un-permitted touching of said body part, you whirled around and almost bare your fangs, hissing at the man who stood mere feet away from you. His hand was stretched out in front of him as he dropped it, clearly still hanging from when he rudely yanked your tail. You didn’t want to look afraid, not after all Taehyung did to try and calm you down. You had to be strong.

You pulled your ears as far back as you could, hiding the furry appendages in your hair as you felt your fine hairs on the back of your neck stand as you hissed at him again. The tip of your tail flicked back and forth in warning.

“Now now, no need to be aggressive. I’m just looking after the lost little stray who wandered into the warehouse.” His sick grin made you want to cry. It resembled theirs so much, the grin of all the men in the past. All the men who hurt you, scarred you. It scared you, terrified you. You clutched the switchblade in your palm tighter, thumb hovering over the small button that would let the blade shoot out into the open for quick, offensive action.

“I’m not a stray.” You muttered under your breath. It was almost like you were trying to convince yourself rather than the man in front of you. Maybe you were trying to convince yourself that this would last, that Taehyung would last. You’ve never had good luck, so why would you start wishing on a four leaf clover that you could never find in a patch of shamrocks?

“I can understand why he was so annoyed with us though. Sure things may have gone a bit wrong with the order,” he shrugged as he shook his head with a smirk on his face. He looked like he had all the answers to the universe and was ready to run for president or take down the government. “He was annoyed that we spoiled his fun. I mean look at the way she’s dressed? All up in his clothes, I bet he was having some time to himself and we called in the middle of it.”

The fear was coming back. The insinuation and his eyes racking your body. It made your skin crawl. Your tail began to tuck between your legs in fright and submission as it wrapped around your thigh. The sicko must’ve caught onto your change in attitude like it was oozing out of your pores.

“What’s wrong there Kitten?” No. That’s what Taehyung called you. This man can’t call you that.

“My name is Y/N.”

“Oh come on now. I bet you're just as frustrated as he is. Why not let me-” The man’s unbelievable gall was cut promptly short when he felt something press against the back of his head. It was hard, cold as he felt it through his buzzed hair. Round and strong and he swallowed the choking feeling in his throat back when he knew exactly what is was.

“I’d choose your next words very carefully. We wouldn’t want my finger to slip.” Taehyung, who stood behind the man with his arm extended, pressing something to the back of his skull was seething. “I’m expecting an apology towards her.” When he was silent a moment more, Taehyung kicked the back of his knees in, making him fall to the floor on his hands in knee in front of you. Taehyung grabbed the back of his collar and sat him up to look at you, kneeling at your feet.

The gun he held still locked onto the crown of his head.

Taehyung’s personal Desert Eagle semi-automatic pistol hovering threatening in the air. The rose gold titanium gun was shining and almost nic-less. Very well taken care of, it was obvious Taehyung had a thing for perfection. His finger was resting peacefully on the trigger as he tapped on it lightly, almost patiently. But that patience was running thin. Thinner and thinner with each passing moment. His eyes were a dead giveaway.

“I said apologize unless you want me to show you what color your fucking brain is.” He pushed his gun harder into the back of the man’s head as he winced and took in a shaking breath.

“I-I’m sorry.” He didn’t quite meet your eyes, and his apology was out of mere fear than it was sincerity, but Taehyung only planted his foot harshly into the man’s back and kicked him onto the ground. He lifted his arm up and fired a round, the same round he was more than tempted to plant into the cocky man’s skull. He earned the attention of all around him with the booming echo of the fire and the smoke from the muzzle of the gun as he lowered his arm back down and tucked his gun away.

He looked at you, eyes softening just a bit at your shaken form. He didn’t know if you were scared to the man crawling on the floor, the atmosphere, the position you were just in, or if you were even scared of him. He held his hand out to you, offering to let you take it. It was your choice to meet his hand or not. He smile when you didn't hesitate to run to his side and take it tightly.

“I’m going to make myself very clear.” He started, his voice hard, deep and deathly serious. He gripped tightly onto your hand, fearful of you pulling away. He smirked lightly as he tugged you just hard enough to make you stumble into his chest. You braced the force of the impact with your free hand, that still clutched the knife he gave you, as it landed by his waist. “This woman is never to be addressed with any form of disrespect. So much as put a quiver on her lip and I’ll personally see to it that you get a punishment that I see justifiable for your actions.”

He smirked and scoffed as he watched a ripple of shivers work through his men’s weakened spines at his harsh gaze and strong, powerful words. They were well aware he held no mercy when enraged.

He looked down at you as you looked around. Your ears stood taller on your head and he felt your tail brush his leg. You were still stiff with nerves, but you seemed more relaxed than before with his touch. He returned his gaze to his men.

“Y/N is to be held with the same attitude you’d give me. Complete obedience or keep away from her. I’ll be making calls to address formally that no one has any excuse to ever touch her in a way she finds unpleasant or threatening. Understood?” An echo of understanding followed thereafter. “Splendid. Now, get back to work.” The men quickly scampered off.

“Taehyung?” He looked down at you as you looked up to him. Eyebrows scrunched up in confusion. How preciously innocent. “You’re going to keep me safe, right? You promise?” He chuckled as he promised you once more.

“Of course, Kitten.”

“Then you’re not a bad man. You gave me a home and a name. You’re not scary. So, please let me stay.” He chuckled again as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and lead you to the doors of the warehouse, taking you outside with him.

“Let’s go home, shall we?” You nodded as you and he piled into his car. As the car lurched a moment before rolling forwards, Taehyung reached and grabbed the knife from your hand, taking back into his possession. He lent across the seat and pet your head with a smile on his face when you relaxed into purrs. It was then he was finally able to say it.

“Welcome to the Mafia, my precious little Kitten. My Y/N.”

XXX

Pt. 2?

6K notes · View notes

jellidile · 6 years

Text

Sing for me (Present Mic x Reader)

A shorter tale for you, but still cute! (first time really writing Mic, hope it’s good!)

Hiding from a villain was not a great start to your day. What was even worse was when they eventually caught you. The villain had large chameleon eyes. And his hands, well, claws were that of a chameleon too. He held your neck and smiled,

“Well pretty little thing. I’ve heard you sing before, how about you sing for me sweetheart?”

Hizashi had been patrolling a semi-busy city street he loved to walk down. Looking around he saw a small crowd gathering around an alleyway. As he walked closer his ears heard the most beautiful voice singing. What was even better was that the song, was his! He sauntered over hoping to catch a glimpse of the angel. What was he even gonna say? Oh wow you sing really well! That sounds stupid. Hey, I heard you singing wanna go get coffee? Would that be too forward? As Hizashi reached the mouth of the alleyway he saw you. But he was everything but impressed. After being a hero for so long his eyes were trained to see what all these other people couldn’t; that you were being held hostage. He saw a long tongue attached to your back leading deeper into the alley. Your voice cracked a bit, and you shuddered. Hizashi whispered to the person beside him,

“How long has she been singing?” The person’s eyes lit up. Hizashi smiled winking and making a shushing motion. The person whispered back,

“Um, a-an hour I think.” Hizashi nodded,

“Any breaks?” The person shook their head. Hizashi nodded, muttering a thanks as he slunk around the crowd. He stood beside the alley entrance. He couldn’t see the villain in the shadows on the opposite side of the alley. Looking up to you, Hizashi saw your eyes plead. A silent cry for help. He gave a thumbs up and slipped into the alley. Being in the shadows helped his eyes adjust. Following the slimy pink tongue, the villain was behind the dumpster in front of him. Hizashi paused just in time to hear your voice break and fade away. Feet shuffled from the villain and the tongue began to retract. Without thinking Hizashi leapt forward as you hoarsely shrieked. He caught you, the tongue snapping off and back to its owner. Placing you behind him Hizashi faced the villain. Chameleon eyes, hands and tongue. Weird green scales, holding a knife. Hizashi sighed,

“Another boring thug, huh? You people have no respect for others.” Hissing the chameleon began to open his mouth. Hizashi screamed,

“SEE WHAT I MEAN?!” The sheer force of his quirk sent the villain flying into the wall behind him. Wobbling the lizard got up and shot the tongue out once more. Deftly dodging, Hizashi grabbed it and pulled it towards him. He avoided physical fighting when he could but,- Jutting his knee forward, the thug’s head slammed down. Falling limp on the floor.- if it was just guaranteeing victory, what was the problem? Taking some cuffs out of his pocket he cuffed the villain. From behind him that new hero (what was his name, Kukui? Karen?) Kamui Woods skidded to the mouth of the alley,

“Oh! Present Mic! I didn’t know you were here!” Hizashi laughed waving him over,

“Nice to see you Kamui! Mind giving me a hand?” The young hero nodded as Hizashi pointed to the villain at his feet,

“Just take him to the station will you? I’ve got to help this young woman he held hostage.” Kamui nodded, stealing a glance at you. Your eyes were closed. And you were pressing your knees against your chest. A few tears stained your cheeks. When he left the alley, Hizashi sat a little way away from you. Gently he pat the ground beside you,

“Are you alright? Did he hurt you?” Hizashi spoke softly, he knew how to talk to those who were scared out of their minds. You sniffed and took a deep breath. Hizashi could tell your mind was racing,

“Do you mind if I touch your shoulder?” His hand hovered a few inches from the ground. Patience was key. You slowly nodded,

“Okay.” As softly as he could Hizashi reassuringly placed his hand on your shoulder,

“I know you probably don’t wanna talk about what happened, so before the police come knocking, would you like a distraction?” You slowly raised your head. Hizashi could see you had a whole new level of pretty he’d never seen before. There was a subtle smile on your face as you nodded,

“I’d like that.” Smiling Hizashi got up and stuck his hand out,

“Well come on then!” You took his hand and he lifted you up in one swift motion. Chuckling he led you out of the alley, and down the street to a little cafe he liked.

While the two of you talked in the cafe, Hizashi was happy seeing you relax. So far he’d learned your name, (Y/N). Your favourite animal, your favourite colour, and what you did for a living. He was ecstatic to hear you were a teacher. Specifically a music teacher for junior high. You knew the basics about him. Present Mic, he was loud, taught as U.A.’s english teacher, and just saved you,

“Thank you so much.” You sipped at the tea he’d gotten you. Hizashi smiled shrugging,

“It’s my job (Y/N), don’t thank me. But you know you could do something for me.” This piqued your interest,

“What were you thinking?” You coughed slightly, reminding Hizashi you’d just sung for an hour straight,

“Well, you can really sing! So maybe one day, I hope you would sing with me?” Hizashi shyly looked away. He didn’t see your face blush. You sputtered and laughed awkwardly,

“I guess, I could think about it…” Hizashi smiled wide, throwing two finger guns to you,

“Really? Awesome! I’ll give you my phone number so we can talk more about it! Or I mean, we can just hang out too!” quickly taking out a pen and paper Hizashi scribbled down his number, shoving it into your hands, he grinned to himself. Taking a sip of his own drink. His phone buzzed, checking to see who was calling him, it turned out to be Shouta. Turning to you he shrugged, you waved him forward. Leaning back on his chair he answered,

“Shouta! What’re you calling me for? Are you bored?!” Hizashi smiled inwardly hearing his friend sigh,

“The police wanted me, to tell you, to get down to the station with that girl. You’ve got to stop taking victims.” Hizashi laughed, shrugged, absentmindedly twirling his fingers,

“I’ll stop taking them when the police learn how to be more sensitive.” Shouta grumbled,

“Just go Hizashi.”

“I will! I will!” hanging up the phone Hizashi stood up looking back to you,

“I hope you don’t mind, but, you’re going to have to talk to the police now. I’ll be right there to help you out though, okay?” You gave him a reassuring smile,

“Thank you Present Mic.” Hearing you say his name, Hizashi felt you gave it a whole new meaning. He was definitely going to stick by you for however long you’d have him.

The police meeting went by in a flash. You’d been perfectly fine. Funnily enough you remembered more after you’d calmed down. Hizashi was especially proud that you had said that. Once it was over Hizashi wished he could spend the day with you. But as you parted ways he felt his phone buzz again. You had sent him a message,

Let’s get coffee again! How does Saturday sound? We should both be off work then. -(Y/N)

Hizashi felt his heart soar. You wanted to see him again! He remembered your voice before he’d rescued you, the notes stuck in his head and the melody almost whisked him away. He’d definitely write a song about this. And maybe, if he was lucky, you’d want to sing it for him.

#bnha #bnha hizashi #bnha x reader #present mic

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shipburner · 6 years

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For the past week (or perceived week, she had only her watch to go by), Iris Henson had been using the ［ＬＯＮＥＳＴＡＲ］ as a base of operations. The room was easily refindable, the food was edible, the beds were safe, and the staff wasn't inimical to human life.

Iris just wished that it wasn't so aggressively Texan.

Her partner, Stheno, lacked the cultural context, and treated it as just another one of the Memory Palace's cavalcade of oddities. And to be fair, it was plenty odd, since none of the animal or plant life implied by the ［ＬＯＮＥＳＴＡＲ］ was native to Texas, or, in most cases, Earth. But the name – the intent of the food – the overall aesthetics – made Iris cringe harder than anything she'd seen yet.

To be fair, it wasn't all bad – the most requested jukebox tune was a passionate ballad of a truck's love for his man by a singer with a voice like a glass guitar, followed by a lot of mooing that allegedly translated to a song about rustlers having stolen all the singer's trucks. The staff appeared to understand human gender better than most humans did, and the Daisy-Dukes-and-close-tied-flannel uniform showed off a full spectrum of cheesecake, beefcake, cheeseburger, yeast block, singing mouth, and chassis. In fact, Iris couldn't remember ever having heard a mean word said in the place.

The biggest problem, flagrant Texaninity aside, was the floor show.

Stheno held a clear plastic umbrella in two arms, sporadically wiped it clean in a third, and held Iris' chocolate mousse behind them in a fourth, shielding Iris and her sketchpad from the spurts of blood and gore as the showpeople tore each other to bits. Iris was busy recording the anatomy of the most human-approximant staff members – glass skeletons intricately whorled to support their hydraulic muscles, nine cervical vertebrate clearly revealed whenever one got their skull pulled out, four stomachs in a familiarly ruminant arrangement … "Ooh!" remarked Stheno as something bounced off the umbrella; Iris shot out another arm and grabbed it before it fell to the sawdust floor. She turned it around and examined it. "Their hearts are wasps' nests? Huh. Not what I was expecting." "Just wood pulp," Stheno corrected, pulling it down to Iris' chest so she could see. "I'll be damned if wasps were involved in this." "Hm. Ooh, Nutella!" A hazelnut eye had ricocheted off a neighboring table and landed in the glass, shattering into fragments as it hit the adamantine pole of the tiny fancy umbrella. Iris handed her sketchpad to Stheno and stirred the fragments into her dessert, spooning it into her mouth. "I don't know how you have the stomach to eat this." "Like you know what it's like to have a stomach, Stheno." "Get fucked."

"YEEEEEEEE-ALLLLLLLL-RIIIIIIIIGHT, PARDNERS!" blared the sound system. "THAT'S A DE-CI-SIVE – AN' IN-CI-SIVE – WIN FOR MX. OPHELTEK! LET'S GIVE EM ALL A BIIIIIIIIG HAND! OOPS, LOOKS LIKE E'S ALREADY GOT ONE, AHAHAHAHA!" Mx. Opheltek held up the severed hoof-hand of eir last opponent over eir head. "WE'LL BE BACK AFTER THE BREAK! GET UP, GET ANOTHER DRINK, GO POWDER YOUR –" the last word sounded like "NOSE!", "MUZZLE!", and "GRILLE!" layered on top of each other. Stheno folded the umbrella gingerly as Iris got up to head over to the bar. "Jes' water fer the li'l misses, 'sright?" squawked the bartender. They were perhaps the least aesthetically consistent person in the place, being a swarm of parakeets inhabiting an articulated wire cage that Iris thought looked a little like Jimmy Buffett. "Mhm." Iris nodded, rubbing under her glasses. It had been a long day, especially when they'd had to brachiate through the ribcage of a Spearmint Hound carrying an unconscious lumberjack. Stheno squeezed her hand supportively and accepted the drink. "Heeeeeeeey y'all!" There was a heavy thump as someone slid onto the bar next to Iris, along with the squishy sound of body parts pushing themselves back together. "Whoof, I got splattered out there! Top me up, thank y'kindly …" A quiet snick noise accompanied the retraction of six glass claws as their owner held out a glass skull to be topped up with bloodwine. Iris turned to see a showgirl sitting on the bar, tall, tan, young, handsome -- Iris quelled the rising strains of "Girl from Ipanema" along with some unhelpful gay thoughts. The woman's hazelnut eyes took in the mutualistic partnership, flicking between meeting Iris' gaze and Stheno's. "Hey, how y'all doin'?" she said. "Saw the host here doin' some sketchin'; we puttin' on a good enough show y'wanna capture it?" She downed the bloodwine and wiped her lips, which Iris could now see were just lipstick painted around her mouth. Iris swallowed, voice suddenly ragged. "More … scientific interest. We're not … not from around here." "Ooh, you a bio nerd? I'm psych, myself. Workin' this job t' put myself through college." She took another long gulp and held out her hand. Iris shook it cautiously; Stheno circled a arm around them. "Annie-Mae, pardner; what're y'all's monikers?" Annie-Mae probably didn't notice the bit of Iris that died inside when Iris put together what her name sounded like. "Iris Henson." "Stheno." Iris reflected belatedly on the lack of differentiation between their voices -- clear enough to her and Stheno, but since they both had to use Iris' vocal chords, she wondered if Annie-Mae could tell who was which. "Nice t'meetcha! Am I gettin' y'all's grammar right?" Iris looked down at Stheno, who shrugged a pair of arms; Iris said, "… No, we think you've gotten the right take on our partnership." "Sweet! So what brings y'all around here?" "Stumbled through the wrong hole in space, both of us," said Stheno. "Now we're both stuck on this crazy-train of a castle." "Whoof! Sorry t' hear that, but y'seem like y'all're enjoyin' the show here." "I am," said Iris. "More … energetic than I'm used to, but I am interested." "Personally, I'm disgusted," said Stheno. "Well, ne gustibus te disputandum'n'all that!" Annie-Mae kicked a leg high in the air, which probably meant something like nonchalance in whatever body language her species had, but which caused Iris to suddenly become very interested in her water. "Y'all hangin' around here for the night?" "Think so, why?" said Iris. "Wonderin' if we can continue this conversation or if I'm keepin' y'all! Y'all're becomin' a regular; figure it's worth meetin' y'all, proper-like." She slithered down off the bar onto a stool besides Iris, resting her angular chin in her broad hands. "You two an item?" she asked, suddenly, voice sugary. Stheno's arms coiled, half under her own power and half under Iris', who stammered, "We're … uh …" "As romantically entangled as two people this physically entangled have to be, I guess," filled in Stheno. "We're a … package deal, at any rate." "Is this a deal y'all're offering?" Annie-Mae licked one of her eyes, grin glassy. Iris' throat stalled for several seconds.

Annie-Mae recoiled quickly, face falling. "Sorry, I can never judge how fast is too fast with visitants. I made y'all uncomfortable an' that ain't the ［ＬＯＮＥＳＴＡＲ］ way." Iris shrugged. "I think we're both filing it under cultural relativity, and I gotta say -- the 'Lone Star way' where I come from is a lot less courteous than it is here." "I ain't rightly sure if I should feel good about that." Stheno rolled her eyes. "Trust me, you'll need a lot more of that bloodwine if we're discussing Iris' homeworld. Or mine, really, but we already went through the section of the castle that's got my cultural baggage attached. All the evil in this place is dramatic. Overt." Annie-Mae hung her head. "I ain't no damn good with y'all plausibly evolved folks." Iris patted her shoulder. "Better than we are, ma'am." Annie-Mae laughed. Well, let loose a horrifying screech, but Iris had heard enough of her species laugh before. She took another swig of her bloodwine. "So! How's bio life?" "Art life, actually," said Iris. "Anatomy studies, y'know? I mean. I hope it's art life. I don't know how 'getting sucked into a memed-up Borges novel gone metastatic' is gonna affect my major." "I'm just a tech," said Stheno. "Biological, but I went into trade." "Oh, ain't that jus' a zmood. Time's a fluid; y' should get back fine, if I remember anythin' from physics when I was a scrap." "Thanks, that's … comforting." "May I offer a restrained yet supportive 'yeehaw'?" "You may not," said Stheno, the joke clear enough in her tone, and bumped Annie-Mae's proferred fist. "Yee haw!" Annie-Mae said, the bisection of the word groaningly obvious to Iris' ears. "Thanks," said Iris, "I hate it." Annie-Mae sprayed bloodwine out of her mouth, Stheno opening the umbrella just in time to deflect it humorously. Iris couldn't help laughing too as Annie-Mae contorted, dislocating several joints with the force of her screeches. "Your – your deliv'ry – ho-leee fuck, Iris – hoooooooo dawg-geez, I needed that." Two minds trying to speak in unison through one set of vocal chords tended to produce a fairly good Voice of the Legion. "What can we say, except, you're welcome …" The reference didn't appear to land with Annie-Mae, but that was par for the course; frankly, Iris (and Stheno, in the case of her references) was more surprised when one did. Annie-Mae wiped her face and leaned back. "So, how's the art and/or trade life, funnybones?"

They ended up chatting far longer than any of them had in truth expected. Iris and Stheno described their own consistently-weird homeworlds and attempts to break into the art world/museum scene, respectively, and as the subjective night wore on, pipe dreams, like unseating Mike Mearls and claiming his skull-throne, or winning the Abomination Foundry Ceremonial Brisket for excellence in species design. Annie-Mae described her inconsistently-weird homeworld – the ［ＬＯＮＥＳＴＡＲ］ and related rooms, and her efforts slowly working towards a psychology degree, and, later, her own pipe-dreams, about wandering through the mind of a long-dead god she'd found a few floors greenward and healing its hurts, or maybe just getting to rip her back off on Hellevision. The parakeethead behind the bar eventually had to shoo them upstairs, citing concerns about them turning the mops all "Sorcerer's Apprentice snuff film".

They told more stories, upstairs, of the time Iris and Stheno had faced the Xenomorph version of Billy Bob Brockali in rock-combat, of the time Annie-Mae had gotten a glimpse into what turned out to be an erotic baking show from Stheno's homeworld, and of loves lost and dreams deferred and huge old things seen when the viewers should have been asleep.

It would be nice to draw a curtain over the room, and praise darkness and creation unfinished. For indeed, Iris and Stheno had foes to face, friends to find, and, eventually, a way home, although for now we should perhaps send our well-wishes to Iris and Stheno not for homefinding but for overcoming the dour tentpole ghouls of Barthes' Necropolis, and for the assistance of the Warden Sueish, the only author who enacted his own narrative death. But before we send Iris and Stheno to go out deconstructing and to deconstruct, well-fed, well-rested, well-comforted, we have one stumbling block to place in their way.

Annie-Mae's hat hung on the bedpost atop Iris' pea coat; cowboy boots and sneakers lay jumbled together on the rug that might be called cowhide by someone who had never actually seen a cow. The room was dark, the air warm with breath and things that worked like breath. Stheno began to speak –

A squat, humanoid skeleton-creature poked eir cumberously-hatted head out of some fourth-dimensional space, hissing, "Niiiiiiiice…….." The words "CORPSE-GRADE QUICKLIME" flashed into Iris' eyes from eir shirt. Stheno lifted her bodily off the bed with all ten arms and sent Iris' feet plowing right into eir face. E made a noise like an EDM opossum and vanished with a puff of sand. "What'n tarnation was that?" Annie-Mae said, dazedly. Iris groaned. "That's … not far off. Eir name's Darnation, with a D. E's a skook. Skooks are the … Dante's Vergils of the Palace ecosystem, at least in our experience. E is a horrible little neman and we're probably being taught a really heavy-handed lesson by eir presence." "Yeesh. I can recommend a de-curser, if y'all think that'd help." Iris and Stheno turned all four eyes to her. "We don't." "Well, I can help y'all forget em." "We'd like that."

[This is my overwrought birthday present for @titleknown, inspired by the anon message posted above. What character, after all, is more a character than the fantastical Memory Palace?]

[Also, in the spirit of the thing, Annie-Mae, Iris Henson, Stheno, and Darnation are all free to use under a CC-BY 4.0 Vanilla License as you see fit as long as I, Nausicaä Harris, am credited as their creators when you do so. The Memory Palace, and the species I call skooks, are under the same license, as long as Thomas F. Johnson is credited as their creator. ETA: The anon on whose ask I built her character graciously gifted me with credit, and open-sourceness, for Annie-Mae.]

[And, while I don’t have designs for Iris or Stheno worked out yet, I do have a design for Darnation. Eir cheap trick is pocket sand; eir hat is meant to represent that e was born on a mountain, raised in a cave, and craves nothing but truckin’ and fuckin’.]

#nausicaa writes #weird fiction #open source characters #the memory palace #others' ocs #to some extent #nausicaa draws #my ocs #annie-mae #iris henson #stheno #darnation

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mx-requests-forum · 7 years

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[Fulfilled] He Followed Me Home

Prompt: Changki + Cat!Kihyun + Young Owner Changkyun

Fulfilled by Moderator ReeLee~

Words: 1814

AO3 Link (For Easier Reading)

Changkyun walks briskly down the sidewalk, keeping his head down to avoid drawing any unwelcome gazes as he nears the school gate. He just hopes today he’ll be able to make it through the entrance without running into trouble… unlike the day before.

“Yah! Changkyun-ah!”

The boy stops, his blood freezing in his veins in terror. He presses his lips together in a nervous fashion, knowing it’s too late to act as if he hadn’t heard it the call. Dark laughter echoes in his ear, and suddenly there’s rough, calloused hands spinning him around. He stares down at the ground, unable to meet his tormenter’s eyes.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you, kid,” the eighth-grader demands, shaking him a bit. A yelp of pain slips through Changkyun’s lips at the tight hold, which seems to only encourage the older boy’s behavior. He smiles a oily smile, and shoves Changkyun away from him. The sixth-grader stumbles back, and consequently lands on his butt with a low ‘oomf’.

His tormentors creep towards him, smirks on their faces and a menacing light painting their eyes. Changkyun quakes in fear where he sits, his heart hammering in his tiny little body. He bites his lower lip and closes his eyes, readying himself for the assault. Maybe today will be the day they give him a black eye. Maybe then he could have proof and report them. Maybe then—

“Mrrrrrroooooowwwr!!!”

Changkyun slowly peeks open his eyes, surprised at the high-pitched meow. His eyebrows raise in question at seeing a small, fluffy, brown kitten standing between him and the bullies. The older boys seem a bit… scared by the feline. The leader actually backs up a few steps, his mouth dropping open in surprise.

“Dude, get that thing away,” he commands, snarling up his upper lip to show his displeasure. “I’m allergic.”

“I-It’s not mine,” Changkyun mumbles in reply, though he doesn’t move to shove it away. If something as simple as a kitten is enough to keep them away from him, he’s more than willing to adopt it immediately. The bullies’ leader rolls his eyes, scoffing at Changkyun’s stuttering, and turns to leave him be.

“Whatever. We’ll just catch you later, Kyunnie~” he says over his shoulder, sneering over at the younger still on the ground. Changkyun gulps, his gaze returning to the pavement. He looks over to the cat, which is now staring at him curiously with its head cocked to the side. Giant brown eyes watch him unblinkingly, and Changkyun can’t help but hold out a tentative hand to its head. It quickly rubs its head against the boy’s hand, earning a toothy grin from him.

“Thanks…” he mumbles, and the cat mewls in response. Changkyun chuckles under his breath, and reaches forward to pick him up. The kitten meows in protest, but the boy only holds it close to his chest in a grateful hug.

“Mooowwr,” it cries, and Changkyun can’t help but laugh again. Suddenly, the bell rings out in the air, signifying the beginning of morning classes. Changkyun sucks in a breath at his own tardiness, and quickly sets the kitten down.

“I’ve gotta go,” he tells it, patting his new friend on the hand in a short goodbye. He gives it a small, genuine smile, and then runs off towards the school building.

He’s in such a rush to get into the building he doesn’t even look back. Which, in the kitten’s opinion, is for the better. The small feline trots off towards the bushes, and crouches down as much as he can to avoid drawing attention to himself. He watches for a few minutes, just waiting until the last of the students finally meander their ways into the school building, until finally he can morph into his true form again.

The cat chokes back a groan of protest as his limbs elongate and his claws shorten. His fur falls away, and his tail retracts into his body. His ears pop and he has to hold his breath as the process goes, careful to not strain his own organs as they grow into the size they should be.

Yoo Kihyun, eighth grader, now straightens up with a huff. He stretches his arms as high as they can go to stretch out his back, his bones cracking back into place. The boy leaves the bushes behind and walks off the campus, ignoring easily the pain that always follows a transformation.

He hadn’t planned to do such a thing, but he just couldn’t help himself. Now, he’ll be late returning home from his errands, and his mother is going to give him an earful… But, it’s worth it. He’s noticed throughout the past month how much crap those jerks give that poor boy when passing by the school on occasion, and he had to do something.

Granted, he hadn’t meant to turn into a kitten—he had more or less been aiming for a tiger—but it ended up working out.

Not too long after, Kihyun returns home with his arms weighted down by shopping bags.

“I’m home, Eomma!” he calls as he slips out of his shoes. He hears a faint hum from the kitchen in acknowledgment, and he makes his way there on socked feet.

“What took you so long?” his mother asks as he walks into the kitchen. Kihyun chews on his bottom lip, not looking forward to her reaction.

“Um, well, remember that boy I’ve seen around?”

His mother, who had been cutting up vegetables for the stew she’d planned to prepare, pauses and puts her knife down on the cutting board. She turns to glance at her son, her eyes shining with a warning light.

“I… uh,” Kihyun mutters, smiling sheepishly, “I kind of Shifted into a cat to help him with his bully problems… So, that kind of took up some time…”

“You what?!” his mother demands, her voice turning into a shrill cry of outrage. She closes the distance between them, her gaze growing frightful as she takes hold of his shoulders. “Do you know how risky that was? Did anyone see you? Did anyone notice?” Kihyun shakes his head quickly.

“No, Eomma,” he tells her softly. “I was careful, I swear.” She stares into his eyes for another second before releasing a relieved breath, and letting go to slump into a chair at the dining table.

“That was reckless,” she states simply, crossing her arms over her chest. “Don’t you remember your lessons on what’s happened to other Shifters who have been caught over the years? Honestly, Kihyunnie, you’d think I haven’t taught you anything all these years…”

“But, Eomma,” Kihyun interjects, going over to take hold of her hands as he stares at her pleadingly, “they were pushing him around, treating him like crap! He needed help!”

“It doesn’t matter if some cute boy needs your help or not,” she tells him simply, her voice strained. “You don’t risk exposure… ever.” She then stands, heaving a tired sigh. “Go on up to your room, I’ll call you when lunch is ready.” Kihyun purses his lips, as the woman is obviously still upset, but turns to comply, anyway. He knows better than to argue with her when she’s like this.

He throws himself onto his bed, turning on his side to stare at the clock. He thinks of the cute boy, a smile coming to him as he remembers the feeling of being held by him. He’d like to hold him back one day… or maybe something more. He seems so sweet, so caring, so genuine… Sure, he doesn’t exactly know the boy personally, or anything, but he’d like to.

He’s gonna get the crap beaten out of him after school, Kihyun thinks sullenly. Without me there, those guys are gonna kick him around to no end…

He sits up, knowing what he has to do, where he has to be by exactly 3:30 PM today.

Changkyun sneaks out of the classroom a couple minutes early and keeps his head down. He’s not banking on his furry little protector being there this afternoon, so he’s trying to get out of there as fast as humanly possible.

He luckily manages to beat his tormentors out the door, and he thanks his lucky stars as he sets off at a sprint towards the gate. But, as he’s picking up his pace, he almost trips over a small ball of fur curled up on the bottom step to the school. The young boy spins around in surprise, his eyes widening at finding the kitten from this morning there, seemingly waiting for him.

The kitten sits up a little, its tail wagging as its eyes glint with an almost amused light. Changkyun can’t help but smile at the expression, and he tilts his head to the side. The kitten mirrors the action, and then bounds on over to the boy. Changkyun giggles a little, and kneels down to pat his head. The kitten purrs at the attention. The warm noise of pleasure gives the boy absolutely no choice in picking the feline up, and holding him in his arms as he continues on his way home.

Kihyun tries not to get too comfortable in this new position, as he knows he’ll have to leave eventually to get home himself, but he still can’t help the contented purr emanating from his throat.

“I’m home, Eomma!” Changkyun calls upon entering his home. He slips off his shoes and hurries towards his room, knowing exactly how his mother will react to the feline in his arms.

“Do you want a snack, Kyunnie?” she asks sweetly from the living room. Changkyun makes a sound of denial, too much in a rush to do much else. She pokes her head out of the living room, frowning in confusion at how he isn’t coming to greet her as he always does. She can’t help but chuckle knowingly at seeing the hunched way he’s walking. She reaches out and grabs him by the shoulder, but doesn’t expect in the slightest to see her dear son cradling a cat close to his heart when she turns him around.

She raises a suspicious brow, and Changkyun shifts on his feet, licking his lips anxiously.

“He… um… He followed me home…”

His mother raises a skeptical brow, chuckling at the obvious lie. She glances down at the kitten in his arms, shaking her head at the innocent gaze.

“Go on,” she sighs, pretending to be exasperated but really too amused to be mad at her son for bringing home a pet. “We’ll talk about this later.”

Changkyun giggles delightedly, and pauses only to kiss her on the cheek before running off to his room. Kihyun bounces in his arms as he goes, knowing he should be heading home soon, but unwilling to leave Changkyun’s warm embrace quite yet.

#monsta x #monsta x fanfic #monstax #monsta x kihyun #fulfilled prompt #fulfilled request #fluff #fanfiction #fanfic #asian fanfic #kpop fanfic #monsta x changkyun #monsta x changki #changki #changki rise #im changkyun #yoo kihyun #hybrid au #cat hybrid

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juju-on-that-yeet · 7 years

Text

When Evil Rears its Head - Chapter 13: Interim

Waiting.

Read below or on AO3!

It takes Amy a few hours to realize that she and Darkiplier aren’t the only ones in the waiting room.

It isn’t that she doesn’t see the stretcher towards the front of the room, but rather that she doesn’t see the black mop of hair mostly hidden beneath the sheet until she starts looking around the clinic, starts trying to think again. But once she knows there’s someone there, she can’t stop staring, and can’t help but notice the strange way he seems to…shift. Sometimes she can’t see the black hair sticking out from under the sheet, and a moment later it’s there again, on and off. It’s confusing, but she isn’t sure she wants to ask about it.

She ends up finding out anyway when Googleplier returns, still many hours short of a full charge but unable to sit alone in the control room any longer. He sees Amy staring at the person in the stretcher, and glowers a little before looking at the person himself, sad fondness in his eyes. Amy instantly realizes that it’s another Google under that sheet, and that thought is enough to make her curiosity win out and send her out of her chair and towards the stretcher.

It’s Oliver, and seeing him hurts, because he was always the Google who liked her best, and she’d be lying if she said he wasn’t her favorite Google in return. He could pass for simply being powered down if not for the oil in and around his mouth, staining his teeth and chin. Not to mention what is form is doing. Up close, Amy can see that his body is changing every second from solid to transparent, tangible to immaterial, back and forth like a broken lightbulb.

“What’s happening to him?” she asks, and her voice sounds hoarse from the tears she’d shed the last time she’d spoken.

“He’s flickering,” Google answers through gritted teeth, “If Mark dies, he’ll fade completely, and so will everyone else Peevils killed.”

Amy shudders. So this is how figments die.

“Speaking of Peevils,” says Dark from across the room, “Perhaps we ought to figure out what to do with her.”

“Can’t you just keep her in your void?” Amy asks.

“I can,” Dark concedes, “But if I were ever injured or killed, one of which I’m sure will happen at some point in the future, there’s a chance she could escape.”

“Well, I’m her original,” Amy says, thinking, “What if I killed her?”

“I doubt you could ever kill anyone, my dear,” Dark says, derisive, “And besides, it’s not that simple. You didn’t create her, your and Mark’s fans did. The only way she can die permanently is through being forgotten.”

Amy bristles as the pet name, but has to admit to herself that Dark is right on all counts.

“It shouldn’t be too difficult,” Google says, “She may have novelty on her side, but that can only get her so far.” His expression tightens. “There’s been plenty of figments of Mark’s that have lasted as long as she has and faded away suddenly not long after.”

Dark lets out a short, angry sigh remembering the egos he couldn’t keep alive despite his efforts, and Amy’s eyes widen. It’s never occurred to her that Mark’s fans might have made characters where Mark hadn’t intended, and that they might have forgotten them so soon after. She wonders if Mark knows. She wonders if that matters, now.

“Are you suggesting we just wait?” Amy asks, “Do you think that would work?”

“Perhaps,” Dark says, “But I doubt we can be certain. Peevils’s creation was a long time coming.” He gives a bitter grin. “Mark’s fans have been creating Peevils since you and Mark revealed your relationship. Seems as though dark sides are popular these days.”

“So we have to make people forget her,” Amy says.

“You say that like it’d be easy,” Google interjects, “And it certainly wouldn’t be. The internet remembers everything, no matter what it is.”

“So what if…” Amy continues, thinking, “…What if we gave the fans something else to remember?”

“How do you mean?” Dark asks, head tilting with interest.

“I mean,” Amy goes on, “We come up with a new idea for a character, or bring more attention to the ones who already exist.” She winces a bit as a thought occurs to her. “We can’t really do either without Mark, but once he gets better, he can come up with something new, or give you guys your own videos. Maybe the fans’ll be so excited to see you guys they’ll forget about Peevils.”

Google and Dark both consider.

“That’s…actually a good idea,” Google says.

“Indeed,” Dark says, “If I may, I rather like the idea of Mark giving each of us who already exist a video.” He grins. “I’m sure you understand.”

“It’d take much longer than creating a new character,” Google says, “But it has a higher chance of being more successful in the long run.”

For another hour, there’s silence. The idea that Mark’s recovery isn’t a given is not brought up, not even implied, but all three are thinking it. Of course, if Mark doesn’t survive, Peevils will fade away eventually, whether the remaining egos make an effort to facilitate it or not. None of them want to consider that alternative, and Amy, for her part, tries to think of anything but. This is how an unrelated thought springs to her mind.

“Oh my god,” she says suddenly, “It’s getting late, and Chica…someone has to feed her.”

Google almost says something sarcastic about Amy’s priorities, but holds it back.

“I can take you to Mark’s home,” Dark says, trying not to think of what happened the last time he was there.

“Yeah,” Amy says, “Please.” She looks over at Google. “We’ll be back soon.”

Google nods, and Dark whisks Amy through his void and into Mark’s apartment.

Chica hears them arrive, and Amy soon hears her claws tapping the floor as she scampers towards her.

“Hey, Chica,” Amy coos, unable to resist leaning down to pet her. Chica turns big brown eyes up towards Amy, covering her face in doggy kisses and relishing in her attention, before intensely sniffing her hands and leaning down to sniff her thighs. Amy is about to wonder why aloud when it hits her that those are the places on her that have Mark’s scent, from when she held his head on her lap as Dr. Iplier worked on him in the dojo. Suddenly she chokes up, nearly ready to cry again.

As she tries to compose herself, Chica moves on from her to regard Dark with cautious eyes. The dog has never fully trusted Dark; no doubt because he smells so much like her owner but just off enough, and perhaps also because of his oppressive aura that Chica can no doubt sense better than a human can. But today, Dark’s aura is stuck close to him, tumultuous and angry but closed-off in despair not yet faded. Chica approaches him, wary but with her head held high. Dark never has any interest in humoring the creature, so he isn’t quite sure why he holds out a hand for her to sniff. She does, and gives his hand a gentle lick before walking away into the apartment.

“It’s time to feed you, honey-pup,” Amy says to the dog as she walks past her, before moving into the kitchen where she knows the dog food is kept. She already knows how Mark feeds her, and it’s an easy task to complete. But it feels strange walking around Mark’s apartment like this, going through his kitchen and taking care of his dog with him gone. Amy almost feels like she’s doing something wrong in being here, like it’s an invasion of privacy. All at once a thought runs through her head, a thought that if Mark doesn’t make it then someone else will have to take care of Chica, and that gets the tears brewing from minutes earlier overflowing. Chica looks between Amy and her dinner, hungry but concerned, and doesn’t go for her food until Amy manages to give Chica a teary smile and a weak pat on the head.

Amy hears Dark approach her but can’t even acknowledge him through her sobs. She gasps when she feels something settle around her, something heavy and cool like smoke. But Dark’s aura is somehow gentle, curling over her less like a python and more like a blanket, strangely comforting as it seeps into her bones. Her tears eventually peter off and stop, and she finally looks at Dark as he retracts his aura back to himself.

“Thank you,” Amy whispers.

“…You’re welcome,” Dark replies, slightly awkward. “Shall we go back?” He asks.

Amy nods. She wonders if someone ought to stay with Chica overnight. She wonders if it should be her. She wonders if she’ll be able to tear herself away from Mark’s side once Dr. Iplier lets her see him.

Once they go back, the waiting begins anew. In Dark and Amy’s absence, Google has pulled up a chair beside Oliver’s stretcher and sits there, stiff, holding Oliver’s hand in his own but not looking at it, not looking at anything. Amy sits in the same chair she was in before, and Dark stands off to the side, apparently still not wanting to sit down. Amy wonders if he’s tired, but then again, the slashing injuries Peevils gave him earlier are beginning to close up. Google seems to be healing as well; his knuckles are beginning to regrow their synthetic skin, and his side, while not as healed as Dark’s, is much better than it was back in the dojo. Amy had already known about their healing abilities, but had never before truly seen it in action. She’d never wanted them to be hurt enough to see it.

The silence is pierced when Amy’s phone starts ringing, making her jump in alarm. Dark and Google swivel their heads towards her. Amy takes out her phone and almost grimaces at the caller ID.

“It’s Tyler,” she sighs, “I have to answer.”

Dark and Google say nothing in response as Amy taps the “accept” button and brings the phone to her ear.

“Hey,” she says, trying to sound better than she feels. She doesn’t do a very good job.

“Hi, Amy,” Tyler says, a note of concern in his voice, “Is…something going on? Ethan and I have been trying to get in touch with Mark for a few hours now without any luck, and you don’t sound so good…”

Of course. Mark’s phone is either in Dr. Iplier’s operating room or back in Mark’s apartment. He makes it a point to be reachable for his friends, and even when he’s too busy to answer a phone call he almost always fires off a quick text promising to call back later.

Amy pauses. She has no idea what to tell Tyler. He knows about the egos, sure, so do most of Mark’s friends. But he doesn’t know them as well as Amy does, and he’s never quite been on board with having numerous versions of his childhood friend running around. And Peevils? Tyler never met her at all. He heard about her from Mark, but there was never an introduction. The only humans Peevils ever met were Amy and Mark, and Kathryn from the night she first appeared. Amy doesn’t know how Tyler will react to what happened. But then, how could she lie to him? How could she hide the truth? Tyler’s known Mark longer than she is, he’s one of his oldest friends, he has a right to know what’s going on.

So she takes in a breath.

“It’s…it’s a long story,” she begins.

But she tells it. She tells it as much as she knows it, from Dr. Iplier’s phone call to her to breaking into Ego Inc. to the fight in the dojo. She starts crying again as she tries to find the words to describe what Peevils did to Mark’s body.

“It was like something out of a horror movie,” she sobs, “H-He hardly looked like a human anymore.”

She goes on to tell Tyler how the fight ended, where Peevils is now, and how Dr. Iplier is still working on Mark.

“I should’ve called you,” she finishes, “But it was…it was the furthest thing from my mind.”

There’s a very long pause from Tyler’s end. Amy has an idea of how he feels.

“No, I get it, it’s…” Tyler starts, “…It’s a lot. It’s…fuck.” His voice is hard yet sounds just moments from breaking.

“Yeah,” Amy sniffles.

There’s another pause, shorter than before, as Tyler collects himself.

“I’m getting Ethan, and Kathryn, too, and we’re heading over there,” he finally says, resolute.

“Tyler—” Amy begins.

“We’re coming,” Tyler insists, “We have to. Mark…” He sighs. “…We have to be there for Mark. We have to be there for you. I’m getting the others and telling them what’s going on and then we’re coming over there.”

Amy suddenly realizes how much she wants someone to lean on right now.

“Okay,” she relents, “Just, getting in might be weird, with the lockdown at all, unless Google fixes it…”

“We’ll go through the window you broke if we have to,” Tyler says, “If…if Dr. Iplier gets done with Mark’s surgery before we get there, call one of us and let us know.”

“I will,” Amy promises, “And you call when you get here, one of us should meet you and take you to the clinic.” Amy doesn’t say it’s so they don’t have to stumble upon the bodies Peevils left, but the implication hangs in the air.

“Yeah, I’ll do that,” Tyler answers.

“I’ll see you soon, Tyler.”

“See you, Amy.” Tyler’s sad smile is practically audible through the phone.

If Amy knows Tyler, she knows he probably breaks down as soon as she ends the call. The thought puts tears in her eyes again. She wonders how much she has to cry before she can’t anymore.

“Tyler’s coming?” Dark asks.

“So are Ethan and Kathryn,” Amy answers, “Tyler’s gonna tell them everything.”

No one says anything else as more time passes, day melts into night, and Dr. Iplier doesn’t emerge from the operating room. Google knows he ought to go back to the control room and disable the lockdown so Tyler and the others can get in, but he can’t bring himself to get up and let go of Oliver’s hand. It’s too light in his grip, and part of him fears that it’ll suddenly disappear as he holds it along with the rest of Oliver, along with Plus and Chrome. Dark can’t stop thinking about how after everything, after all the hours spent bringing fading egos back from the brink, they could all be lost in one fell swoop if Mark doesn’t recover. He can’t ignore the gnawing voice in his mind telling him that it’s his fault, that he could’ve stopped Peevils before she had a chance to hurt anyone, but he tries. His mind keeps going back to the morning, to Peevils coming into his office, and trying to think of ways he could’ve stopped her, moments he could’ve taken advantage of. He thinks of other things, too; he thinks of noisy hallways and unproductive meetings and the Host glancing at him with unease and Wilford fighting his decisions at every turn and Yandere following him around like a duckling and how he hardly ever seemed to get a moment of peace but what he would give to have it all back, what he would give to have it within his powers to turn back the hours and bring things back to normal, what he would give to have anything but this awful empty silence. As for Amy, all she does is continuously catch herself wondering what life would be like without Mark and all the things that would have to be resolved and continuously push the thoughts out of her mind before eventually wandering back to them again.

Amy’s phone finally rings again after two long hours of waiting, waiting for anything.

“We’re here,” Tyler says.

“Okay,” Amy says, “Someone’ll be right down.”

“I’ll get them,” Dark offers as Amy hangs up, “That’s the fastest way.”

Amy nods, and Dark disappears before she can try to thank him. It’s strange, having him on her side.

The next moment, he’s back, and Tyler, Ethan and Kathryn are there with him. Amy stands up from her chair and starts to greet them, but doesn’t get very far before the three of them surround her in a hug.

It should be comforting, and it is; Amy feels so much lighter with her friends beside her, but there’s a somber undercurrent of sadness to their comfort. She can sense how they feel from their arms around her, she can sense the tightness in Tyler’s limbs, she can sense the limpness in Kathryn’s, she can sense the slight tremor in Ethan’s. She wants to say something, anything, but she can’t get her mouth to work.

In the end, she doesn’t have to, because it’s then that Dr. Iplier finally emerges from the operating room. He’s gotten out of his bloody scrubs but even without them it’s clear that he’s done something significant; he walks like there’s bricks on his feet, his face is drawn with fatigue and covered with sweat. His eyes widen with surprise as he sees Amy’s friends.

“Ah,” he says, “I guess I should’ve expected you all to come by.”

They all let go of Amy to look at Dr. Iplier with rapt attention, as do Amy, Dark, and Google.

“Well?” asks Tyler, voice as tight as his body language, “Is Mark okay?”

“Mark’s alive,” answers Dr. Iplier, “But he’s not out of the woods yet. His time…” He shakes his head. “His time’s been acting like it’s about to be set for hours. It winds down to almost nothing and then shoots back up. There’s no rhyme or reason to it; it seemed to happen no matter what I was doing or what I was fixing. And I was able to fix everything,” he clarifies, “He hasn’t lost any limbs, there weren’t any organs injured beyond repair, but there was a significant amount of tissue damage. The strangeness in his time aside, he’s still in terrible shape. If he hasn’t shown any signs of recovery twenty-four hours from now, well, he might not be alive anymore at that point.”

There are times, not often but they do happen, when Dr. Iplier wishes he could tamp down his instinct to be blunt with others. Dr. Iplier wishes so now, as he watches the others flinch at his words.

“Can we see him?” Amy asks.

“Yes,” Dr. Iplier answers, “Not for too long, though, since there’s so many of you.”

So they file in, and Amy doesn’t have the strength anymore to gasp but her heart stutters at the sight of Mark, still and quiet in a hospital bed, stuck full of IV needles, an oxygen mask over his face next to bandages on his cheeks, more bandages up his arms and his sides, the heart monitor beeping beside him, and Amy has no idea what it’s supposed to sound like but she feels so acutely like it’s beeping the wrong way. The others gather around her and notice the same things on Mark she does, and Tyler thinks of how none of the times he saw Mark in the hospital before were ever as bad as this, and Ethan wonders how he went from backflipping for Mark at conventions to becoming his friend to standing here maybe watching him die, and Kathryn’s mind jumps from one moment to the next, going through the countless moments she had working with Mark and everyone else, too, because she knows that things might never be the same for any of them.

The longer Amy stands looking at Mark with dry eyes the more she thinks she’s run out of tears at last. But then Ethan starts crying like a dripping faucet, quiet spurts of sobs. Tyler follows close behind, his own sobs much louder and harsher, like they’re ripping at his throat on their way out. Kathryn’s crying too before long, sobs drawn-out and wavering like a mournful song. Finally, Amy joins them, tired and hoarse but crying hard all the same.

Somehow, after that, time moves quickly. It seems like the next thing Amy knows, the others are starting to leave and Dr. Iplier is insisting she go with them.

“But I can’t just—” Amy starts.

“Amy.” Dr. Iplier stops her, less so with his voice and more with the look on his face. “I promise you I’ll look after Mark. If anything at all happens, I’ll be right there, and I’ll let you know the moment I can. You need to go home and get some rest.”

Amy eventually relents, because if she’s being honest with herself she’s beyond tired. It’s so late into the night it’s almost morning by the time she’s home, Kathryn having driven the two of them there. Tyler and Ethan go back in Tyler’s car, and Amy wonders what they must be feeling, knowing now why Mark didn’t answer their calls during the day. Amy wonders how Kathryn feels, having known nothing about the situation until Tyler called her just hours ago.

Amy wonders if how her friends feel is any better or worse than how she feels, or if it’s just different kinds of the same crushing sadness, or if it even matters at all, in the wake of what Peevils wrought.

~~~

The next two days are, technically speaking, uneventful, but they’re long and tiring all the same.

Amy and her friends spend them trying not to fall apart, trying to hold out hope and keep going with their lives. They all know Mark well enough to know that he wouldn’t want them to sit around crying over him, but it’s hard not to. But they all have obligations, and they all do their best to fulfill them, hanging onto every call from Dr. Iplier.

Ethan quickly offers to look after Chica until Mark gets better, and the others would be lying if they said they weren’t glad to have one less thing to worry about. After all, they do have to worry about the fans, about what they’re going to say if it takes Mark too long to get better, or if he doesn’t get better. They know they won’t be on social media much until things change, none of them can even think about it now. They know fans will suspect something if Mark’s closest friends all make tweets about a personal problem making them step back from social media but Mark stays silent. In the end, though, they realize it’s a risk they have to take.

One day, Amy’s phone rings but it’s not Dr. Iplier, and the caller ID surprises her. But she answers anyway, because the person calling happens to be one of the only other people who can know the truth of the situation.

“Hi, Sean,” she says, trying not to sound completely despondent.

“Hey, Amy,” he replies, voice warm, “Whoosh and I saw yer and the others’ tweets from earlier, an’ well…” His voice becomes awkward, unsure of how to say what he wants to say.

“You’re wondering why we all said something but Mark didn’t?” Amy asks.

“Yeah,” Sean answers, a little embarrassed, “We don’t wanna pry or anythin’, we’re just a little worried, ya know?”

“Yeah, I get it,” Amy assures him, “We figured people would notice, anyway. It’s not really something…something we can explain to most people.”

“Ah,” Sean says, “I guess that means us, too? It’s okay if it does.”

“Actually…” Amy begins.

After all, Sean has his own egos that he has to deal with. If anyone can empathize or give some advice, it’s him. It’s a little easier to tell the story the second time, but it’s not any easier to bear the horrified silence on the other end of the line when she’s done telling it.

“God, Amy, that’s awful,” Sean finally gasps, “I’m…I’m so sorry.”

“Sean,” she whispers, “How do you deal with things like this? How do you stand it?”

They both know what she means.

“Well, it’s…different for me,” Sean admits, “You an’ Mark are way more involved with your egos than Signe and I are with mine. I don’t even know where mine live, ta be honest.” A nervous, breathy chuckle. “I mean, I’ve only ever really met Anti and Dr. Schneeplestein, an’ ya know how those meetings turned out.” He sighs. “Guess what I mean ta say is that ya probably know how ta deal with stuff like this better than I do.”

“I guess so,” Amy answers, feeling a bit let down.

“But Amy,” Sean continues, voice becoming urgent, “If ya need anythin’, anythin’ at all, just let me or Signe know. An’ that goes fer Tyler and Ethan and Kathryn, too. Hell, even if ya need us to come over there, we’ll figure somethin’ out. Don’t hesitate to ask fer anythin’.”

“That totally won’t be necessary,” Amy insists, but finds herself smiling at Sean’s kindess all the same, “But thank you for offering. I’ll keep you guys updated on what’s happening.”

“Thanks,” Sean replies, and Amy can hear the note in his voice like she answered a question he was about to ask, “I hope everythin’ turns out alright.”

“So do I,” Amy sighs, “Talk to you later?”

“Of course, anytime,” Sean answers, “Take care.”

“Thank you, Sean. Bye,” Amy says before ending the call.

Meanwhile, Tyler fields calls from Bob and Wade, Ethan goes between attempting to film and taking care of Chica, and Kathryn tries to keep working, and Amy ends up being the one who visits Mark the most, the one with the most time to do it, the one who thinks she can handle seeing him, the one who thinks she can handle walking into a building filled with death and three beleaguered beings trying just as hard as the humans to keep themselves together.

Dr. Iplier spends the two days endlessly monitoring Mark, not that’s much more to do around Ego Inc. now that there’s so few of them left. Mark’s time of death continues to defy logic as he makes it past the twenty-four hour mark without any changes. He practically waits for the timer to turn red but it never does, but it never gets higher than a few hours, either. It’s like nothing Dr. Iplier’s seen before, but Mark’s condition is stable, so there’s nothing he can do about it.

There’s nothing he can do about the other egos either, the ones he knows are flickering in and out of existence like Oliver is. He does move Oliver into a patient room, though. He knows he should do the same for the other egos; collect them from around the building, have them all in one place for (when, if, when, if, whenifwhenifwhenif) Mark wakes up. After all, Dr. Iplier always looks after the egos when they get themselves killed, and makes sure they’re alright when they wake back up again. But he can’t bring himself to look for bodies, and can’t bring himself to ask Dark or Google for help. Besides, it’s not as if he could help them stop flickering, it’s not as if he could fix them with Mark still hanging between life and death.

Dr. Iplier isn’t used to feeling helpless.

Google, meanwhile, spends the time fixing things. He manages to go back into the control room and reboot the security system, disengage the lockdown. He screws the vent cover back to the ceiling, does the same for the vent in the studio (he tries not to glance at Wilford as he walks past him to the stage). He even repairs the glass window that Amy had to break. He finds he can’t sit still any longer, and even if he’s alone he can still repair things that are broken. He tries to remind himself that he was by himself for years, that for years he was the only Google and he was perfectly fine with that (he tries not to think about how quickly he realized that he prefers to be with others like him rather than be alone).

He eventually gets around to looking at the elevator, despite knowing it’s the one thing he can’t fix on his own. It’s too big and too badly damaged for him to be able to completely fix by himself, but he wants to keep moving and keep fixing so he goes to do it anyway. He finds the elevator in the basement, and starts cleaning up rubble and debris. It doesn’t take him long to find Silver in the elevator carriage, form pulsating in and out, and it feels like the answer to a question he didn’t want to ask. He can’t help but notice that his mask is pulled down, no longer over his face, but after everything, he’s unable to muster up enough anger to put blue in his eyes. He realizes he’s just tired. Cold. Numb. Like an android is supposed to be. Like an android, in light of all Google’s felt these past few days, maybe should be.

He at least pulls Silver’s mask back over his face before he leaves.

Dark locks himself in his office and tries to keep the monster in his skin under control, tries to keep his shell from cracking open and spilling himself out. He curses Peevils, curses himself, even curses Mark because it’s habit by now and it’s easy to do, it was always easy to blame Mark when an ego disappeared into the air and it’s easy to blame him for the fading egos all over the building now. He doesn’t let himself go into his void and mutilate Peevils, the only dead figment who isn’t flickering, but he wants to. He doesn’t let himself go to the dojo or Wilford’s studio, but that’s not as difficult because he knows that if he lets himself see Yandere or Wilford again then he won’t be able to keep his shell together. There’s nothing to do but curse and spit and force his cracks closed and wait for news on Mark’s condition to change.

And the egos Peevils killed? They’re in the same limbo a figment finds themself in when they aren’t permanently dead or in danger of becoming so. Granted, Peevils is there, too, but it’s not something they know about, not something that could matter. The egos spend two days falling through an empty blackness as thick as ink. There’s nothing but torturous pain wherever Peevils’s dealt her final blow against them, nothing but memory, reliving their death over and over. They aren’t even near each other, they aren’t close enough to reach out and even if they were they wouldn’t be able to, not any more than they’re able to remove the phantom bullets from their skulls (or the sword from their chest, or the splitting headache from their mind). It’s a place where time doesn’t make sense, where the figments are eternally there, eternally floating, eternally hurting. For those two days, they feel enough pain for a lifetime.

On the third day, Mark wakes up.

#darkiplier #googleplier #dr. iplier #amy nelson #teamiplier #when evil rears its head #my writing #kristin says stuff #finally it's out jeez

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artnerd1123 · 7 years

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Not My Fight

Chapter One --------------------

Y’all asked, so y’all shall receive ;3c Happy reading yo Chapters list can be found here

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The sounds of swords clashing rang out in a small courtyard; the metal glinting in the afternoon sunlight. Two opponents faced off together. One large, and one small.

“Give it all you've got! Don't just block my attacks, counter them!” The larger one yelled. With a cry, the smaller one tried for a stab at the larger one’s middle, but was too slow. Their sword fell to the ground with a clatter as the larger leveled theirs with its neck.

“You'll never be a knight if you don't learn to attack, Avery,” huffed his teacher.

Avery bit back a smart remark, instead saying “I'll try harder next fight. Just give me more time, Peter.”

Peter just rolled his eyes.

Peter was the older of the two, and a lion to boot. He had a regal looking mane, and it was a deep maroon in color. His fur was golden and shimmered slightly under the sun. His large muscled form was enough to silence most who were thinking of fighting him hand to hand.

“You've said that every time. You never improve. Maybe if you spent more time training with your weapon instead of your magic, you'd be better,” he snarled. Avery took a step back. Peter wasn't someone you wanted to make angry while he had a sword in his paws. “Get back to training. I'll expect better results tomorrow,” Peter growled. Then he left the training courtyard, ears back and tail twitching.

“Magic is easier to control,” Avery mumbled after his teacher left. He picked up his sword. “Why can't I be a knight with magic…?” He got into his fighting stance and brandished his sword at an imaginary enemy. Might as well do some training, he thought.

Avery was a young silver goat and lion hybrid. He had the long tufted tail, paws, and the retractable claws of a lion, but otherwise he looked like a goat. His paw ends, tips of his ears, and tip of his tail were black. This was due to his hybrid status as well. His father was a black lion and his mother was a silver goat. His mother told him that his coloring made him look unique. He thought he looked a little odd, and not in a good way. Though he was proud of his short horns. All goats, and goat hybrids with horns, began to grow them around age 10. He was 15 and a half.

After a little while of attempting to go through some fighting moves, Avery set his sword down. He didn't like the weapon. It felt dangerous and unwieldy in his paws.

His magic, however…

He took in a deep breath, then exhaled it slowly. Small purple flames erupted in the centers of his paws. Their heat was comforting. He smiled, slowly circling his paws around one another. The flames grew as they came together until he was holding two medium sized fireballs. He shifted his stance, eyeing a target at the far side of the training yard. He drew back his paw and threw one fireball, then the other. Both seared through the air to hit perfect bullseyes. He stomped his foot on a small panel nearby, and more targets popped up. This time, they were moving. He grinned. Myrick, his magic advisor, had made them faster. Myrick knew how much Avery liked a challenge. Racing back and forth, jumping to reach the high targets, he barely missed the center of any of the targets.

Many people said he could've been a deer with talent like that.

But that was not what Avery wanted. Magic wasn’t his real passion. He may have been slightly better than others with his magic, but he wanted to be a knight. His parents had been knights, as had their parents, and their parents, and so on. The thought of protecting a noble or even the royals made him almost glow with pride and excitement. The only problem was that knights primarily used weapons, not magic.

Avery sighed, extinguishing his paws and stamping on the panel again. The targets slowed to a stop, then lowered back below the flagstones. He picked up his sword from where he’d put it down. Looking it over, he sighed. What use was a knight that couldn't properly use a sword?

-----

An hour or so later, Avery left the training yard. He’d practiced his stances and fought off a few invisible foes, but he knew it was no good trying to practice while he was in a bad mood. He walked through the long halls of the castle quietly. Some servants, mostly bugs, scuttled about. They bowed slightly when he passed, and he nodded and smiled in turn. It wasn't long before he’d reached the magic corridor. He wanted to thank Myrick for fixing the magic targets in the training yard.

As he pushed open the door to the room, a huge wave of papers came flurrying out. In the ensuing panic of the magic specialists’ he was nearly trampled. From the frantic ramblings of the specialists, he gathered that someone had accidentally broken open a jar that had contained air magic. More specifically, a wind spell.

He squeezed past the group of distressed magicians into the room. It was usually an untidy place, with stacks of scrolls, books, jars, and ink pots everywhere. Now it looked even worse. The wind spell had blown half of the room into a chaotic pile of paper and ink. Avery shook his head and looked around. A small deer with large ears, short antlers, and thick glasses was kneeling down by a shattered jar. It's fur was rumpled, as if it had gotten caught in a blast of wind full on.

“Hey Myrick. Bad day?” Avery asked, tilting his head. The small deer, Myrick, looked up and sighed, ears drooping.

“I was j-just trying t-to organize the j-jars…” he mumbled, pushing up his glasses with his slender hoof.

“Ah… well at least it was while you were trying to help. They can't yell at you for that,”Avery replied. “Here, why don't I help you with that?”

He kneeled down and helped Myrick pick up the glass shards. There was a scrap of paper stuck under one of the larger pieces of glass. Avery picked it up gingerly, wondering what it could be a part of. Myrick gave a small gasp and took it from him.

“Oh my- this is- aaah thank you A-Avery!” Myrick exclaimed, “this is the p-paper the spell was c-cast from! S-someone can replicate i-it now!” Avery grinned, and gave Myrick a pat on the back.

“That’s great Myrick! Maybe you can try and replicate it too,” he chuckled.

“M-maybe… my magic m-might be air magic!” Myrick stammered hopefully, “maybe th-this will help me u-unlock it!” With that, the little deer rushed from the room, chattering excitedly. Avery shook his head, still smiling. He was glad he was able to help his friend.

Myrick still hadn’t discovered what his magic was. Monsters usually found out when they were young, about five or so, but very delayed cases were possible. However, it was highly unusual for deer, especially a 14-year-old like Myrick. Despite his best efforts, no magic would come from his hooves. But he was a hard worker. Avery knew he’d find it eventually.

At least he can use his magic once he discovers it, Avery griped.

He shook his head to dispel the resentful thoughts. Slipping out of the door and squeezing past the magicians, he continued his walk towards the castle exit. There was another monster he wanted to see. But this one didn't live in the main castle.

The main town in the kingdom of Eitilte was small but homely. Everyone knew everyone else. The appearances of the ramshackle shops and houses were enough to lift most’s spirits, as well as the cheery chatter that wound through the air.

It was busy, as usual, and monsters moved quickly through the streets. But there was something off about the whole scene. Avery stood hesitantly at the main walkway. The difference came to him after a moment of listening.

It was quiet. The town was barely ever quiet. Everyone seemed tense and suspicious.

Avery wondered what he had missed.

Quickly, he made it to a small bakery. The smell of freshly baked bread drew him in as much as his want to get out of the strange silence in the streets. The warmth of the inside instantly put him at ease.

There were small shelves lined up against the walls, with the center of the main room left open. On these shelves were the goods that monsters came to buy. The fresh loaves of bread, small pastries, and salted pretzels created a mouth-watering smell. Avery felt himself start to lean towards the nearest shelves and shook himself out of it. As good as the food looked, he had someone to see.

“Can ah help you?” A soft lilting voice called from behind the counter. Avery turned and smiled upon seeing the owner.

“Hello Krystal.”

“Oh! Howdy Avery! Sorry, ah didn' recognize ya at first,” Krystal said. She hopped over the counter and landed by him. She was a rabbit, about his height and age, with fluffy purple and brown fur.

They had first met years ago when Avery had been sent in by his parents to pick up some bread. he’d gotten confused and krystal was sent over to help him. They eventually forgot all about the bread he was to be purchasing and got lost in conversation. They’d been good friends since that day, and went out to walk the town streets or fool around in the woods that surrounded the town as often as they could.

Krystal smoothed out her apron before speaking again.

“Whut brings ya here today…?” She asked in a low whisper.

“I just wanted to go say hi since I hadn't seen you in awhile,” Avery responded hesitantly, “is something wrong…?”

“Haven't ya heard?” Krystal asked, shooting him a surprised glance, “there’s been a whole heckova lot of thievin recently. Shops ‘n bakeries are bein’ robbed left an’ raht. You castle folk must not hear anythin about the town, all cooped up like a bunch a squizzers in a squrrow.”

Avery’s mouth dropped open slightly. The past few weeks had been so full of training and swords and official business concerning a royal ball that he hadn’t had much contact with the town. He shook his head.

“No, I hadn't heard anything about this,” he mumbled.

“It's alraht,” Krystal said soothingly, “yer workin’ hard like the rest of us… Just… Maybe try an’ stay more in the loop, ok?”

Avery nodded, then huffed, his tail flicking uneasily.

“Has your bakery been hit?”

“Nope,” Krystal replied proudly, “my family and ah’ve been puttin empty buckets an’ bowls by the windows an’ doors during the naiht. We take turns watching the store front during the day too. Ain’t no thievin’ varmints takin our stuff.” She seemed to swell with pride and determination.

“Well at least that’s something… does anyone have any idea who’s doing it?” He queried.

“Naw. Besides the usual rats n monkeys, we don't know. They claim they're innocent, an they ain’t got no money, so we gotta take em at their word,” she huffed, foot tapping in irritation. “Ah jus don' know who would do this kind of thing. It's making erybody seem all untrustworthy.”

“No kidding,” Avery retorted, “it’s way too quiet outside. I got too many suspicious glances for my liking…”

Looking around, he was still amazed that Krystal’s bakery remained unrobbed. The food was delicious and always warm. Then there was the fact that the family of bunnies had a little more gold than the average monster family. Avery just hoped they could outlast the thieving streak.

“Ya probly have to go now, don't ya?” asked krystal, shaking him out of his worried thoughts.

“Oh, yeah…” he sighed, mumbling, “not that I want to go…”

“Is that gosh darn lion giving ya trouble again?!” Krystal demanded, her ears swiveling back in anger.

“He’s my teacher. He’s supposed to give me trouble,” Avery grumbled, “it wouldn't be so bad if I could just use my magic during sword training.”

Krystal raised and eyebrow and tapped her foot, looking him over. Avery caught himself staring at her and glanced away.

“What? Why are you staring?” He inquired.

“The only one stopping yeh from usin yer magic is yerself, ya silly goat,” she replied with a giggle. “Ya need ta stop tryin ta do erythin the traditional way. It's alraht to branch out,” she said softly, putting a paw on his arm. He twitched a little at her touch. A soft warm feeling welled up inside him. He wasn't sure what it was about. Pushing the warmth in his chest away, he smiled over at her.

“Thanks Kry, but try telling that to Peter,” he snorted, “he and everyone else in the castle is bent on preserving old traditions. Trying to get him to change his mind is like arguing with a fuzzy wall.” They both stared at each other for a minute, the mental image of a fuzzy wall occupying them, before erupting into laughter. It was quite some time before they both managed to quit, as when they glanced at each other they simply began laughing again.

Finally, they both managed to stop the giggles.

“Well, I gotta go Kry. I'll write you letters every day in case I don't get to visit!” He explained, tail swishing behind him eagerly.

“That sounds mighty nice Avery,” she smiled, “Ah'll look forward to em. See ya around!”

“See ya!” He called, then left the store. A soft purr rose in his throat. He allowed it, and a small smile, to make themselves known. He loved spending time with Krystal, but there was just barely any time at all these days.

Between training, studying, and all the formalities of castle life, he felt there was never enough time.

#nmfstory #nmf #not my fight #chapter 1 #my story #avery #krystal #myrick #peter #artnerd1123

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