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shadowtraveled · 2 months

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"mithrun is the only real monsterfucker in dungeon meshi" is objectively the funniest bit you can get out of his everything, but in all seriousness i think his attraction to his love interest is deliberately overstated—and that makes sense, because romantic jealousy is a classic and digestible motive, which is explicitly what kabru was aiming for in condensing mithrun's backstory, and also because until chapter 94, mithrun wasn't willing to admit to the true nature of his desires.

but because romantic envy is both classic and digestible, it probably isn’t a unique enough or complicated enough desire to tempt a demon’s appetite. mithrun’s wish, as far as we can figure from kabru’s reduced retelling, was to have a life in which he had never become one of the canaries, and that carries like 3857 implications and desires within it. that’s delicious. his love interest acts as sort of a red herring to his motivation for making it, though. (side note: i'm saying "love interest" here because, keeping in mind that i barely speak japanese on a good day anymore, "想い人" is something i'd usually take as just kind of an old-fashioned and romantic way to refer to a lover, but in context i wonder if both the connotation of yearning and the vagueness are intentional, and i think this phrasing gets those aspects of it more effectively. anyway.)

mithrun considered his love interest to be untrustworthy. there was a minute where i thought that comment might be about a similar-looking elf (yugin, one of his squad members), but comparing the two…

the "sketchy" arrow is definitely referring to the elf we know as his love interest—the bangs go toward her right, she only has the one forehead ornament, and, most notably, her ears aren't notched.

every time she’s given a full-body depiction in his dungeon, she’s drawn as a chimera, with the body of a snake from the waist down. (side note: the “what if a dungeon has chimeras before reaching level 4?”/“then the dungeon lord is unstable” exchange just being mithrun grilling his past self alive is so funny. he’s so. but anyway) there are a couple things about this.

first, the snake part of the chimera appears to be modeled after some species of coral snake mimic

which, in the biology-for-fun manga, i… doubt is a coincidence, especially with the added context of the “untrustworthy” comment. the dungeon’s conjured illusion of mithrun’s love interest was a harmless copycat of a venomous original. for whatever reason, he felt this person was a threat and made up a "safe" version of her to be in a relationship with, and while it’s definitely possible to be attracted to or even love someone you find to be toxic and/or intimidating, when you take that into consideration alongside the configuration of her body, you get some interesting implications.

which brings us to our second point: if we assume that mithrun was not in fact fucking a snake, then sexual attraction, at least, was so far removed from his idea of a relationship with this person that he did not even bother to keep her dungeon copy human enough to maintain the illusion of the option of a sexual relationship. this is somewhat echoed in the depictions of their interactions, which also imply a frankly unexpected romantic distance. she kisses his cheek and he doesn't seem to react; she's at the edge of a narrow bed with only one set of pillows, on top of his blankets while he's underneath them.

the kiss is particularly interesting because it seems to contrast the text. kabru's narration tells us this was everything mithrun could have asked for, but mithrun is there looking unreadable to pensive, likely because this is right before the panel that makes it clear things in the dungeon are beginning to go wrong.

walking through this backwards for a minute, we have the physical barrier of his bedding and the spatial separation inherent in a bed made for one person, the emotional barrier of his mounting anxiety getting in the way of his ability to enjoy the affection he sought, and... the snake, which historically carries the connotation of temptation, yes, but also mistrust, barring physical intimacy. okay. ok. if a dungeon reflects the mentality of its lord, all of this might suggest that mithrun was not able to have any real desire for a relationship with this person. his unwillingness to be vulnerable or let another person in was insurmountable. but in that case, why was she such a focal point that she remained to the end, after his dungeon had stopped creating iterations of his friends to come and visit him? why would he get so upset over her meeting with his brother that he became lord of a dungeon about it?

well. mithrun's brother was also interested in her, probably genuinely. and mithrun had to win.

you have an older brother who your parents completely ignore, probably in part because he is chronically ill/disabled and almost definitely in part because he received a ton of recessive traits that resulted in rumors that he was an illegitimate child. you are aware, most likely because those same parents fucking told you, that you actually are an illegitimate child. but they keep you around because you had the good fortune of looking just like your mother. what can that possibly teach you but that you, like your brother, are disposable?

it's utterly unsurprising that mithrun, under these circumstances, developed a pathological need to be better than everyone around him. people don't keep you otherwise. i'd argue this is also why he says he looked down on everyone he knew while milsiril claims his dungeon reeked of feelings of inferiority—he sought out people's worst traits and prioritized them in his mind to protect his already extremely fragile sense of self-worth, and all the while he tried to be as likable and high-performing as he possibly could be. his parents disposed of him anyway, but even then he tried to keep up the performance. he was kind to everyone. he never once lost to a dungeon.

when he saw his "love interest" meeting up with his brother, what he saw was himself being replaced by a person his parents had always treated as worthless, and if that was what they thought of the child they'd kept, what value could anyone possibly see in the bastard they'd given away to die? mithrun and kabru tell the story like he wanted to win this unnamed elf's heart, but it was never about being with her. it was about cementing his worth, proving that he didn't deserve to be thrown away.

and so it's particularly cruel that his demon discarded him, too. but maybe it's also particularly gentle that, in the end, there was someone who refused to even consider giving up on him.

kui laid it out in three panels better than i could hope to.

yeah. it's love. you wanted to be loved, even when the only way you were able to understand it was through the desire to be wanted, and you wanted that so badly that the idea of being consumed felt like the promise of finally mattering to someone.

#dungeon meshi spoilers #mithrun #dungeon meshi #this has been rotating for a while but i wanted to check my evidence before getting into it thanks user angelspenance for posting that meme #half of this is just the text and the other half i'm sure has been said before but it's making my brain [radio static] so here this is #someone did for sure mention this but i do find it very cute that in his fucked up conjured world meant to portray his ideal reality #his teammates came to visit him. like part of the fantasy was then explicitly that they cared about him and were his friends. even though #he says he tried to see the worst in them.#hm it does feel important to note that i do also believe 100% in mithrun suicidality--his desire to be eaten does seem to focus a lot on #wanting it to be Over. wanting not to be left incomplete and empty anymore.#but that loops back around a bit to the hole in your heart that appears when you feel unloved. it's many things and the same thing at once #snakes #long post #severe problems #meshy

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musiconanironingboard · 1 year

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1 February 2023: Western Skies: The Essays, Darden Smith. (self-released, 2023)

Darden Smith is a Texas-born, Austin-based singer-songwriter who first came into my consciousness when Rolling Stone reviewed Evidence, a 1989 collaborative album Smith made with English musician Boo Hewerdine from the rock band The Bible. I bought Evidence on the strength of this review. At the time, I didn’t go backward to examine Smith’s two prior solo albums, but when I went on to program university radio beginning in 1990 I jumped at the chance to review Smith’s third solo record Trouble No More. Specifically, though, I jumped at the chance to review the promotional album Interchords that was designed to promote Trouble No More. When the album was released, my station didn’t yet have a CD player, and there was no vinyl edition of Trouble No More to be had. Interchords was a long-running Columbia Records promotional series, and the Darden Smith issues, like all in the series, mixed bits of spoken interviews with music. It’s been an awfully long time since I’ve heard it, but I recall Smith’s Interchords album containing special acoustic versions of songs from Trouble No More rather than album cuts. It also has a couple of tracks from Evidence, as well as some songs that appear nowhere else in any version. Evidence never really did much for me, but I adored Darden Smith’s Interchords album and I put it in heavy rotation. It was unusual for us to play such a specialized, otherwise-unavailable type of record, but I insisted that we did. By the time of Smith’s next album Little Victories in 1993, my station had a CD player and I made sure that got plenty of play as well. I saw Smith perform live during this period, opening for Shawn Colvin in St. Louis. My girlfriend wanted to see Colvin; I liked her just fine, but when I learned Darden Smith was the opening act I was delighted to make the 100-mile drive. Even though I loved the Smith material I heard, it wasn’t until many years later that I made any move to actually purchase these albums, and as soon as I was gone from my college town I didn’t think to find out what Darden Smith was up to. When I stumbled across his next album, 1996′s Deep Fantastic Blue it seemed like a spectre from another part of my life and I didn’t give it a moment’s thought. A lot of artists met this fate with me, for better or worse.

I don’t know what made me do it, but sometime last fall, nearly 30 years after leaving college, I decided to find out what Darden Smith was up to. I was happy to see he is still making music, and it was funny timing as he was just about to release a brand-new album, Western Skies. This was part of an ambitious project that also includes a coffee-table book of photography (also by Smith) and essays. When I see something like this I’m usually tempted by all the parts, but I decided to start slowly and buy the album. I’ll be frank; it didn’t do a lot for me, but I enjoyed it and decided I was happy to have checked in with Mr. Smith. It did occur to me, though, that while I’d long owned Interchords I still didn’t own its actual parent album Trouble No More or its follow-up Little Victories from my college days. I found them on eBay, in a lot that also had a CD edition of Interchords and a copy of his self-titled second album and Columbia debut. Suddenly I had a small stack of Darden Smith CDs, and when that happens I turn it into a listening project. I decided that in January 2023 I’d begin listening to this accumulation of Smith’s work. If I liked what I heard, maybe I’d buy more.

Before I could even start that project, in August 2022 he announced a companion album to Western Skies, called Western Skies: The Essays. I can resist a coffee-table book, but there was no way I was going to skip buying a companion album. Considering the low impact its parent album made on me, I did feel a bit nervous about buying a spoken-word spin-off album, but buy it I did. His website said buyers would receive it by September 30. Several months went by and I even wrote to Smith to ask him if he’d ever received my order. He gave an explanation of pressing-plant delays, which wasn’t surprising. His site still said September 30. Five and a half months after placing my order, I got a shipping notice. I went to the mailbox that same day, and there sat the album. Smith must be a one-man operation.

I wasn’t very excited to play Western Skies: The Essays, so of course the first time I heard it I was captivated. I played it twice in a row that evening. Not only do I like it more than the actual Western Skies album, I love it. Smith executes the spoken pieces on this album perfectly, with complementary instrumental accompaniment that includes multiple musicians including Charlie Sexton on guitar. I’m glad I went down this whole Darden Smith rabbit hole just so I could find and hear this album. It instantly became one of my favorite spoken-word albums, which is admittedly a short list, but I really like this record.

I’m going to have to write to him again, because while the inner sleeve gives a URL to download a copy, there’s nothing to be found at that site other than a chance to download the original Western Skies album. I’ve got to have The Essays on the go. They would be perfect to play late at night or on a long highway drive.

Above are the front and back covers.

Below are both sides of the inner sleeve.

Here is side one’s label.

After writing all of that, I realized that I have the story a bit backward: I bought Western Skies after I bought that eBay lot, not before. I also forgot that I’d written about both of those purchases here before, so if you want to see the various stages of my Darden Smith remembrances you can do it here: https://musiconanironingboard.tumblr.com/post/676124641804288000/7-february-2022-four-darden-smith-albums-darden

https://musiconanironingboard.tumblr.com/post/681845886378196992/25-march-2022-western-skies-darden-smith

Also, my memory of getting the Interchords CD in that eBay lot was incorrect, for here is a standalone entry about it. Note that whereas the vinyl edition of this release is called Interchords, on CD it is called Midnight Train: https://musiconanironingboard.tumblr.com/post/681848011290247168/28-march-2022-midnight-train-darden-smith I usually fact-check myself before blathering on like this, but today I reveal all of the messiness behind the curtain of my attempts at perfectionism.

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todoscript · 3 years

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how he would ask you out

request: pls some headcanons of how the boys (shinsou/tamaki/shouto) would ask the girl they like out 🥺

characters: shinsou hitoshi, amajiki tamaki, todoroki shouto

genre: fluff

word count: 3.3k+ total, 900-1200 per character

tags: pining, confessions, fem!reader

author’s notes: sorry if this sounds rushed?? i can’t write

SHINSOU HITOSHI

two years after his enrollment into the hero course, shinsou had finally came to terms with the feelings he’s been holding for you for quite some time now.

what began as just friendly encounters and kind gestures felt like something more to him. after all, you were one of the key people that led him to transition smoothly into the class, with your helpful demeanor and coming to his aid whenever he was stressed and troubled by the new environment.

you went out of your way to organize study sessions and small arrangements to mingle and get to know the other students better.

you reiterated to him that if he ever had any questions about anything, he could always come to you.

initially, shinsou thought he was being a burden—that he was just heavy baggage that tied you down.

however, you assured he was anything but, and stated that you were more than happy to help him, even going to say you enjoyed spending time and getting to learn more about him.

at your response, shinsou was appalled at how genuine you were.

appalled… but also very grateful.

eventually, there came a point when he realized there was no mistaking the affection he felt for you—not when he subconsciously noted every one of your habits and intricacies, able to tell whatever emotions were running through you at a simple glance, or when he would stop to admire the way you decided to style your hair differently or changed your look, thinking you seemed even more charming that day by the confidence you exude.

no, at that point, he’s sure it was painfully obvious. so obvious, in fact, that kaminari and mina had chosen to skip today’s group study session in favor of letting the two of you have your “alone time”. whatever that could mean.

shinsou had grimaced over their excuse of “being too busy that day” when you had told him the reasoning they gave you over text, despite knowing their next exam was only a couple days away. recalling just how nosy and enthusiastic they could get when involved in these kinds of affairs, he had an inkling of what exactly those two were planning. you, on the other hand, seemed completely oblivious to their schemes.

however, what did latch onto your mind was the thought of spending the day with only shinsou, in his very room, sitting across from each other with your textbooks open in front of you. though you should be more attentive to your studies, you couldn’t help the palpitations beating loudly in your chest and your wandering eyes that snuck glances at him after every question you answered.

unbeknownst to you, shinsou mirrored your actions all the same, reciprocating the flustered behavior, albeit a bit more subtly.

keep calm, hitoshi. why are you getting all worked up? he would say to himself, putting on his usual facade.

although he came off as relatively calm and collected on the outside, it’s difficult to keep his emotions in check when actions never lie.

that was especially true as he reached his hand out for the eraser you two were sharing between each other. with his eyes continuing to gander down at his notes, he hadn’t noticed that you were lunging for the same thing—not until your fingers had suddenly touched and you both pulled away at a speed equivalent to making contact with fire.

his stare unfaltering, shinsou was surprised to discern the embarrassed look on your face that immediately fixed itself as you rummaged through your pencil pouch. a second later, you pulled out another eraser, one that was notably smaller than the one you were sharing.

“um.. i’ll just use this,” you offered, and shinsou rubbed the back of his neck, the whole situation more awkward than it needed to be considering you never had any trouble sharing your supplies with each other before.

through some examination of your demeanor, shinsou had made a… bold enough claim, thinking that maybe—just maybe—you held the same kind of affections for him as he did for you.

it’s like he recalled earlier—actions never lie—and shinsou didn’t let the quiver of your lips or the intense concentration at your work to avoid meeting his gaze go past his head. that’s what spurred him to finally act on his desires.

without warning, he leaned forward on his seat to lay his hand over yours that caught your attention. you met his eyes, astonished to say the least, but more so concerned by how your eyes widened before you were about to open your mouth to ask him what was wrong.

the violet-haired male beats you to your words, voice resonating firmly, “y/n.”

you blinked. “y-yeah..?”

“i know this might be a bit late coming from me, but,” you could feel his hand tighten atop yours, “after exams, do you want to catch a movie together? just the two of us?”

shinsou fought the urge to look away, bashful at how he made his declaration for your time. the warmth surging under his skin was alleviated at the smile that slowly curled on your lips as you rotate your wrist, your palm touching his. the expression washing over your features told him you’ve been waiting for him to ask you this for a while now.

“i’d love to.”

AMAJIKI TAMAKI

ever a shy and introverted individual, tamaki has never had the heart to ask you out despite years of harboring a crush on you.

every time the thought had crossed his mind, he’d reason poorly with himself that you wouldn’t be interested in him in that way.

it didn’t help that his low self-esteem only deepened that thought that had now rooted itself in his brain.

at such a prestigious school like u.a., you were bound to find someone far more compelling than him—someone with guts, confidence, and great social skills. not a guy like him who conjures the image of potatoes at every anxiety-inducing encounter he comes across.

he was relieved enough to settle himself comfortably as just your friend—a title that allowed him to stay close and keep within your circle, all the while subjecting him to simply admiring you from afar.

but his eyes that held a hidden longing for more weren’t overlooked by a fellow student of his. or to be precise, the ever curious and free-spirited, hadou nejire.

always aware of his surroundings, it was hard not to notice that peculiar stare she’d aim at him during moments where he might’ve just finished speaking to you, or when you’d pass by and his head would naturally drift in your direction.

it was like she was picking apart every detail laid on him and it made tamaki absolutely restless.

tamaki’s suspicions and anxiety were later raised during one instance at the lunch table. he was at his usual seat next to his other big three companions, mirio and the aforementioned nejire, who was eyeing him with a gleam in her eye.

even with his self-consciousness, tamaki did his best not to pay any mind to the undesired attention and munched on his plate of takoyaki—the octopus nestled in the batter sure to come in handy later in training that day.

to his dismay, you passed by their table with your tray of food in hand, and nejire did not waste any time calling you over in that cheery tone of hers.

she invited you to sit down with them. you gave her invitation some thought before ultimately placing yourself in the free spot next to mirio, with nejire and tamaki already seated across from you.

the girl was all smiles and hums while tamaki was in a state of distress, both at his friend’s odd behavior, which was starting to spell trouble, to having you pulled into all of this. mirio was just being mirio, welcoming as always.

you greeted everyone at the table, making eye contact with mirio and nejire, but tamaki evaded your line of sight. he simply waved his reply without breaking away from his balls of takoyaki.

luckily for him, you didn’t give his lack of words much thought and started digging into your own lunch. it was then that nejire found it appropriate to start up a conversation.

“y’know, y/n, i’ve been meaning to ask you this, from one girl to another,” she mused, finger waving around playfully, “are you interested in anyone here?”

upon hearing her question, tamaki almost choked on his bonito flakes, his cheeks puffed and eyes blown. meanwhile, your chewing slowed as you gave your answer some thought.

“uh… well–”

“i’d say fujita from class d is quite the looker! think you’d be interested in them?”

after swallowing the food in his mouth, tamaki began to subconsciously listen in on the conversation. he paid close attention to your responses with bated breath, a small part of him anticipating your answer highly.

“fujita’s nice and all, but i don’t think we’d really get along as a couple.”

tamaki mentally sighed, relief evident all over his face. it was then that mirio had started fitting the pieces together after watching his close friend’s brow wrinkle throughout the entire exchange before finally relaxing at your words. crossing his eyes with nejire’s only confirmed his suspicions as the girl sent him a wink.

as a friend, mirio wasn’t about to let nejire’s operations fall flat. getting up from his seat, he motioned tamaki to come with him.

“i heard they have extra yakisoba bread right now! we should go check it out!” he said as a guise to give the other two time to themselves, free from tamaki’s prying ears.

unaware that mirio had caught on so quickly, tamaki didn’t object to tagging along with him. mostly because he thought of this as an opportunity to get some fresh air and calm his racing heart, finally feeling the effects of the blood rushing to his face.

with tamaki supposedly out of earshot, nejire was free to go about her questions however she wanted.

“okay then, if not fujita, then who? there has to be someone, right?” the girl scooted further in her seat out of pure curiosity. “tell me, is it perhaps someone in our class?”

it was your turn to be stricken by her boldness. you tried picking at your food, stuffing it into your mouth to avoid answering, but nejire’s tenacity outmatched you.

finishing your lunch, you opened your mouth to speak, “actually, the person i’m interested in is pretty close to you…”

nejire feigned ignorance, innocently placing a finger under her chin. “who? mirio?”

“ah no, it’s tamaki, alright?!” you ended up blurting, voice hushed but frantic.

bingo. hearing exactly what she wanted, nejire returned to her original position, a triumphant grin plastered on her lips. replaying what you said out loud in your head, you buried your warm face in your hands.

unbeknownst to you, tamaki had ended up hearing the whole exchange around the corner coming back to their table as mirio lightly snickered at his revelation of an expression.

the blond patted his shoulder. “go on then, you know what to do.” he threw tamaki an encouraging thumbs-up.

the boy gulped in response before inhaling a deep breath of air to prepare himself for what would arguably be the most important yet stress-inducing moment of his life so far.

noticing you getting up to discard your tray, tamaki—through a final push from mirio—went to make his move.

hearing him suddenly call out to you, you were caught off-guard. after admitting to your crush on tamaki to nejire, you felt your cheeks get hot just seeing his face right afterward.

“oh hey, did you get your hands on those yakisoba breads?” you scraped up a way to start the conversation.

“right... that… mirio managed to get the last one in the cafeteria,” he answered. then he brought his hand to rub his elbow, fidgeting in his spot as he found it difficult to look you in the eyes again.

“tamaki? something wrong? are you upset that he got the last yakisoba bread?”

he shook his head. “no, i… it’s just… i’ve been meaning to ask you this for a long time now, but never had the courage to say it to you because i didn’t think you ever liked me that way. but…” he finally mustered the determination to face you head-on. “would you go out with me, y/n?”

at first, you were speechless—absent of words as you relayed his request in your mind over and over again. then, your eyes softened, lips easing into a smile as you reached out for his hand.

“i thought you’d never ask.”

TODOROKI SHOUTO

it’s no surprise to many that when it came to asking someone out, todoroki didn’t exactly know the first thing to do.

mostly because he’s never asked anyone out to begin with.

you were the first person he’s ever felt these kinds of emotions for, and to be frank, he wasn’t sure what to make of everything that had been going through him when that root of infatuation had started to bloom inside him.

rather than sulk or contemplate on his thoughts for too long, he surmised it was best to simply come clean and ask for advice.

but when he confessed to what had been on his mind lately, he wasn’t expecting such a vigorous response from his friends.

“i’ve been thinking about asking y/n out.”

there was a layer of uncomfortable silence amongst the group before all hell eventually broke loose.

midoriya, uraraka, and iida immediately sprung from their seats in the common room, yelling “what?!” in unison. tsuyu and her frog-like mannerisms were more idle, but still surprised nonetheless.

todoroki was unfazed by their reactions, actually expecting it to go that way considering he’s never brought up any topics of that nature before. at the very least, he’s thankful he decided to say this when it was just the five of them. compared to what the whole class’s reaction would have been like, this was incredibly tame.

todoroki was used to always listening to what others had to say and never being the subject of the conversation when it came to dating.

but now things were different. he was openly admitting to them that he was regarding someone romantically. that he possibly sought a relationship with this someone—wanting to be committed to them and become the very best person he could be right next to them. to the four, this was coming completely out of left field.

after everyone simmered down and let the news sink in, the dual-haired boy resumed his thought,

“but i’m not sure how to do it.”

though the entirety of the group never had any experiences when it came to dating, they knew enough from media and pop culture to get an idea on how to help him. more than todoroki could imagine on his own anyway.

“i know! how about we go with the romantic and suave approach!” uraraka suggested. the rest asked her to elaborate.

“it’s simple! it starts by you leaving a note on her desk right before class, saying to meet you on the rooftop of the school! before the designated time, you should wait there for her with a bouquet of flowers, and then when she arrives, confess your feelings and ask her out!”

midoriya rubbed a finger against his cheek, skeptical. “i don’t think that sounds as simple as you’re making it out to be.”

tsuyu chimed in beside him. “those kinds of ideas usually only work well in books, ochako.”

pursing her lips, uraraka gave her plan a once-over, and realized it did seem a bit more involved and out of character than what todoroki was used to.

despite sharing a few more ideas with one another, they couldn’t narrow it down to any perfect one.

that was when iida clapped his hand, bringing everyone’s attention to him.

“alright, i think we’re starting to blow this whole ‘operation’ way out of proportion,” he said.

“if you’re honest about the way you feel about her and show it sincerely, i’m sure she’ll consider your feelings. you don’t have to do anything extravagant when it comes to asking someone out.”

listening throughout every word, todoroki nodded. meanwhile the other three were astonished that their class representative could be so whimsical when it came to romance, which in turn, iida was conflicted by. however, at the very least he was glad they could help out a friend. and so, todoroki went about his day with their discussion in mind.

he found that in many occurrences, whenever he crossed by you and thought of it as a chance to ask you out, there would always be someone to come in and take your time away. leaving him to stand there awkwardly before dismissing the fated question for later.

eventually, the sky dimmed and evening arrived, and by then, the whole class was already back at their dormitory and about to have dinner.

through some rather convenient circumstances, you two were actually assigned on kitchen duty that night.

“it’s been getting pretty cold lately so i was thinking we should cook up a hot pot for everyone.” you gave your idea to him as you pulled out some ingredients from the fridge, waiting for his reply, but it came a few seconds later than you were expecting.

“right. sounds like a good idea,” todoroki answered a tad late. upon realizing it was only going to be the two of you making dinner tonight, his mind was occupied by what he and his friends spoke about earlier.

that was when he started overthinking the situation and absentmindedly half-assed his work.

“todoroki, the cut on the tofu is slightly uneven.” you reviewed his cutting board. looking down, he saw the inconsistent slices of tofu limp in front of him. if bakugou were the executive chef for the evening, he would’ve had to hear an earful from him.

“sorry…” he apologized quietly, reaching out for another cube of tofu to cut.

“is everything okay? i know you’re still learning how to cook, but i’ve seen you show some significant improvement on your knife skills recently.” you voiced your concern for him.

the white and red-haired boy stared at the white bean curd while hearing your worried tone and couldn’t find it within himself to continue the task. it was now or never he thought. he laid the knife flat on the cutting board.

“actually, i wanted to ask you something.” he turned toward you. “do you… want to go out with me?”

nothing but the sound of the fire running on the stove could be heard in the kitchen. todoroki didn’t move his eyes away from you, watching you nearly drop the plate of siu choy and shiitake mushrooms out of shock as your mouth was hanging open.

when you caught onto your bearings, you let out a small laugh. “oh… i… wasn’t expecting that,” you admitted honestly, placing the ingredients on the counter safely.

the boy furrowed his brows. “is that a no?”

“n-no! i mean that isn’t my answer! i–” you fumbled with your words, cheeks warming up now that his confession had finally sunk in. in the meantime, todoroki found your reaction quite amusing. the corner of his lip quirked into a grin.

“what i mean to say is that yes, i’d love to go out with you.” you accepted the offer wholeheartedly. todoroki would be lying if his heart wasn’t throbbing from anticipation. he’s glad he’s able to rest and put that aside.

“now let’s continue making this hot pot together!” you cheered, smiling widely and he found comfort in your words before resuming slicing the tofu.

#bnha x reader #bnha imagine #bnha headcanons #shinsou x reader #shinso x reader #tamaki x reader #todoroki x reader #mha x reader #bnha scenarios #mha headcanons #shinsou hitoshi x reader #tamaki amajiki x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #bnha x y/n

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sly-merlin · 3 years

Text

KILLING ME- 14

pairing : law student!reader + yuta

genre : (fluff) angst , mafia au/ arranged marriage au.

warnings of this chapter : cursing, mention of drugs, character death.

words : ~4k

summary :

“life’s never fair y/n. realise it as soon as you can . it is the only secret for living a regretless life.”

“ curiousity got the cat hitched”

K.M masterlist

K.M 13

TAGLIST : @kpop-choco @moon-yuta @kawaiiayasan @btm-taeyong @exfolitae @lanadreamie @cheersskznct @hyuckiesgf @theworld-accordingtocasey @simplybree

@yiyi4657 @sorrywonwoo @sillywinnergladiator @minejungwoo @leesalts @mal-nakamoto23 @ro2424 @itlittlefangirl @nctzens-world @bl–ankhaeji @jeaneteflo @nuoyii @bralessmermaid @minhoseyeliner @tyongpoetry @swimmingkpopblog @jkjkseo @orphicmoon @floralescapes

A/N : this chapter marks the celebration of this blog surpassing 600 followers! thank you so much for all the support! also for minor readers, the sfw versions of nsfw chapters are given at the end of the masterlist so check those properly before reading.

•••••••••••••

y/n! Are you sleeping?”

Registering his words, you replied in a groggy voice,“What the fuck do you want?”

“Your phone. I left mine in the medical room. I need to call Mark right now.” with some authority, he spoke.

Whining loudly, you fell back on the bed. It was only due but flailing your arms and legs like a kid in a toy store, you let out a screech full of annoyance, cursing your fate.

Were you really going to babysit him now?

"Have you suddenly lost your hearing? Stop with this sick attitude and open the door."

A puff of air left your nose, your chest moved rhythmically with your stomach and you relaxed your arms beneath your head, eyes fixed at the fan above and ears ringing with his voice. He kept calling you and after a number of shouts, you started humming to distract yourself, afraid that you'd end up helping him otherwise. That was something, naturally, you were not interested in. Last time he had ignored your voice and now nature had presented you with an opportunity to return the favour. Just with a bit less flavour.

"Are you dead?"

"Hmmm. To you, yes I am." Mumbling, you yawned and pushed yourself up to reach your side table and fishing out your earphones from the bottom drawer, you untangled them and fixed them comfortably in your ear, hiding yourself underneath the sheets.

Sonata no.14 instantly transported you away from the noise and the stress that was your unwanted husband, yuta. The smile playing on your lips widened as you realised that you were his only mode of communication at the moment.

But You were going for a nap. Until then, he could wait. And thrash. And cry. Or die.

Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you rotated the handle of the door to walk outside but your little trip was interrupted when your body collided straight into a wall. No. The obstruction was too soft for a wall.

Opening your eyes properly, you saw yuta standing stiff. Surprised at the sudden appearance, you immediately stumbled back and in hurry, hit your spine on the wooden door. The glare of his eyes, that always spoke more than you could comprehend, coupled with a clenched jaw, was not a very pleasant sight for sure yet you found it harder to dart your own eyes away from him.

"Your phone" he seethed, breathing deeply.

"Huh?" You croaked out.

He raised his brow and in an instant, the previous scenario played like a short movie in your head. Snapping your head down, you regarded his leg with pity. He obviously noticed it immediately but seemed to ignore it and refrained from saying anything. Good for you, you thought.

"Are you deaf?"

Your furrowed brows met his eyes and with a roll of his own, he picked up his finger to force his demand but you managed to walk back inside your room before he could've done that.

Your back faced him as you contemplated your options while slowly stretching your arm to reach for your phone on the other side of the bed.

should you even be giving him your phone?

You had more trust in Taeyong than the man you shared a roof with so there was no way you were doing that.

Unbeknownst to you, yuta was watching your movements intently and the way you bobbed your head, he knew you were scheming something so he decided to be polite for a moment. Only until you were needed. Or your phone was needed.

Once the phone was in your hand, another thought crossed your mind.

"Wait. Where is the house phone?" Crossing your arms, you asked him slyly, already knowing the answer

"You fucking never got it installed. It's still in its stupid package" he seemed rather impatient.

"And you could've called reception through the door telecom. He would have phoned Mark for you. These rich apartments certainly have more hospitality tha-

"I CAN'T GO AROUND DISTRIBUTING AN UNDERGROUND CRIMINAL'S CONTACT NUMBER TO EVERYONE"

He inhaled and exhaled and you just watched until he opened his eyes again, hand reaching out to you.

"Chill. I've every right to be sceptic especially when you are the one asking for it."

Finding Mark's number on your phone, you called him.

Yuta's hand threaded through his rough hair as he noticed what you were trying to do.

"Hey mark!" Your chirpy voice resounded in the room and yuta was sure this was some different spirit speaking. You sounded too bubbly for the way you were investigating him just a second ago.

"Yes yes. His phone exactly.i don't trust him enough to hand over my phone so that's why I'm calling you myself. Just hurry up if you can or you might have to clean up a dead body in the next few hours."

With that you cut the phone. Without meeting yuta's gaze and resting your hand on the handle, you mumbled,

"He'll be here in an hour."

You were about to close the door when he stopped it with the palm of his hand, alerting you with the force.

"Tell him to get some food too."

And limping, he retired back, to the couches.

Sighing, you messaged mark. Had it been for something else, you'd have ignored but your own stomach had signalled you that it needed some good food so you chose not to fight against your own body.

Now, only the taste of the food could decide how many days you were going to tolerate that barbaric human.

"Are you still going to that stupid internship?" Johnny hesitantly murmured from your desk chair while taking big bites from the plate.

"It's not stupid please! I’m just waiting for them to actually pay attention to my awesome capabilities so they can transfer me to the main branch. This is not bad either but”, you stopped to lick your forefinger and tasting the sauce, continued, “but I really wanna go into the criminal unit. That’s where the actual fun is. As long as i’m being paid decently, i’ll suffer with the stupid research work here.”

“With the tongue as sharp as yours, I think you should be getting ready for a demotion instead” he laughed, showing you his fake bunny teeth in the most annoying and childish way.

“Ha ha ha ha. Some well wisher you are! Thank you so much for looking out for me but I'll be fine. Who knows the gatekeeper’s pay package is more than me. So it’d be a win-win in that case too I guess?” when you did a drum roll with your chopsticks to stress upon your point, he laughed harder.

"So being broke is the new black?" Rolling his eyes, he dragged out, "I swear you kids don't know how this world works."

"And you, grandpa of the century, knows?"

"I'm aware of what I need for my survival and from what I've learnt, you can either take risks or look for job security. In your case, " he fake coughed, "where the proportions of risk taking have already exceeded the acceptable limit, a job security is the best and safest option to choose."

"And that would justify my greed and desire to work for the biggest company of this city."

"Kun. The security you need and the independence you seek would be given by kun. Chois are hmm how to say? Cheap? Yeh cheap. They have no work ethics. "

"Have you worked with them, johnny?"

"No. I'm ju-

"Then was your ex a choi?" You saw his eyes comically and cutely widening at your remark.

"No. My ex wasn't a choi and that's not what I'm saying and you know that."

"Oh. So your ex wasn't a choi. Then a lee? Kim? Im? Oh my god! Look at your cheeks seo!" You dragged out. He shook his head as you kept wiggling your brows at him.

"She was a kim but that doesn't mean I would hate all kims dude. That's baseless and stop ignoring the topic. I want you to apply in Kuns. It's the best option. Do it as soon as you-

"Yeah yeah we'll see about that. First take that bitch back. I can't even nap in his presence. "

"Umm. Yeah. You gotta tolerate him. And besides he's injured. Injured yuta is like a gun without a bullet. He's gonna shout for a day or two and then peace out. He'll be sleeping and reading in his room and you won't even know if he's alive or not."

"Now that's bullshit. What is he going to do here anyway? I hope he can hop himself on one leg because even if the sun rises from the north, I am not going to do a single task for him. He can die hungry , for all I care.”

“Do you think you can endure him for some tasty dinners?”

Clicking your tongue, you quipped, “Do you really think you can buy me with a few homemade meals?”

Day 1

Yes. you were sold. The moment the tasty noodles had melted in your mouth, you knew you had no dignity. And you were indeed ashamed of yourself.

Earlier, Renjun had called you to inform you that he had delivered the food and medicines for yuta and had left your dinner box but he had failed to mention the special and endearing note that was pasted on the glass box. In the curvy letters, it read bitchy piglet and you swore the only person you’d be killing before yuta would be jaehyun. But you were going to use jaehyun to build up your tolerance instead.

When you went out to clean your dishes, he was playing some game on his phone, excitement evident from the way he was laughing every other second. Maybe if he remained occupied, he would not be so insufferable.

Day 3

"Oyii! Oyii!"

No. You were wrong. He was very very much insufferable.

At midnight, his voice echoed, disturbing your sleep. You cursed at the cool atmosphere that had prevented you from using the air con which otherwise would have blocked his annoying screeches. But it seemed like bad luck wanted to change its name to y/n instead. With your name being called like a broken record, it was a fight between you and him that you were not going to lose. Shuffling to your side, you covered your ears with the other pillow and tried to drown out the annoyingly demanding and hoarse voice. There was no way you were giving him the satisfaction of having any power over you. He could cry for all he liked!

“What the fuck do you want at this hour?”

Attempting a glare at him through sleepy lids, you spewed with irritation. Unlike you, he was very much awake, breathing with the sole purpose of making you question your whole existence.

“Pillow” scratching his non-existent beard, he mumbled.

Your nostrils flared and jaw clenched at such inconvenient command.

“You summoned me for a pillow? A pillow that can normally be found on a person’s bed? Can you please rectify your demand or did I just simply hear something wrong?”

The opened curtains and the moonlight that drenched the room was the only source that illuminated his face for you and even with drooping eyes, you could see how serious he was and yet you couldn't hold your tongue back because he simply deserved every shit you bestowed him with.

“Turn the lights on and count the pillows on my bed! And when you are done, get me some pillows from your room.” he simply stated.

“Why should i give you my pillow? I need them!”

“Because I don't use a pillow and I need it asap!”

“Then why do you suddenly need one? To disturb my sleep? Oh that makes sense.” and suddenly, your eyes had synced with your body to side with your fight mode.

“I need them for elevating my leg. The bandage is too tight and it’s not comfortable.”

“Then why don't you walk out of the room and get some cushions for yourself!” you raised your volume.

“Because my leg is in pain and i’m unable to get up? What makes you think I'm dying to see your ugly face at this time of the night. I dont wanna have nightmares of you as well but i can't help it ok!”

“you should have kept them near you. And who are you calling ugly hmm? You poop fac-

“Okay scream for all you want! But get me a pillow when your battery dies down!”

“What the fuck d- are you covering your ears? Wow ways to be generous!”

Stomping your foot, you left the room to get the hardest cushion on the couch.

“Here! Next time call Mark if you want anything. Don’t raise your voice ever again to call me because unlike you, i have work in the morning and hence I need some sleep..”

Just when you were about to leave after shoving the cushion in his hand, he spoke up again,

“This is damn hard! I asked for your pillow specifically and not th- AHH!”

A scream left him as you harshly removed the support , leaving his leg to painfully meet the mattress.

“How about you fix your attitude before fixing your leg?” suggesting, you dropped the cushion on the floor and left.

He didn't call you after that. Nor that you cared. However, the sleep in your eyes somehow vanished. Dancing on your sides didn’t help. Neither did drinking a glass of water. So, with a groan, you listened to your conscience and picked up your extra pillow that was sadly too perfect for your enemy.

Padding to his room, you tried your best to scrutinise and hearing his heavy snores, you placed the pillow right under his thigh and the cushion under his calf. Scoffing at his sleeping figure, you internally groaned to remind yourself that you hadn't done it for him. It was just a debt. For the blanket he had once covered you with. Nothing more and nothing less.

Day 5

You just wanted him out of your hair. He was just being a load on your head. At first, only the work was kicking your ass, then jungwoo was kicking you like a punching bag for an hour straight and adding to your distress was yuta.

"I'm not your maid! Stop piling up the dishes for me. I've had enough mercy on you. From today onwards, get a cleaner for yourself or buy disposable cutlery. I'm not going to clean after you!"

With a roll of his eyes, he had ignored you.

And so did you. Pasting a warning note on the sink tap, you had left for the library with a dying hope that maybe the kitchen would be spotless on your arrival or you'd be dialing some numbers in the evening.

For someone who despised the solemn atmosphere of libraries, you had successfully spent 11 hours in the said hellish room. It was 11 p.m and you wanted to sleep, more than anything but here you were, waiting for yugyeom so he'd just pick you up for a good drinking session that you were dying to have.

Fortunately, you weren't the only one who had missed living these past days. Everyone, for different reasons, was suffering so you felt a little less bad for yourself even though you knew your troubles were far more grave than their academic burdens.

"Wake up shorts" someone whispered in your ear. Squirming on your seat, you whipped your head in your sleepy state and found jungkook caressing your head, goofily smiling at you.

"I thought you wanted to hang out till the next morning" air quoting the last words, he picked up your bag.

"Yeah. Let's go. I'm all ready for a night full of vodkas." You yawned out.

"Definitely. No. You are going home. We can have a small get together me and yuggy are done with our final project." He dragged you out into the parking lot.

" I feel like it's been years since we got drunk together. You are never here anymore!" You whined at him, complaining your heart out.

"I will be. Soon. Then we can celebrate your little choi job as well."

"Oh please. Don't even mention it. If I had penny for every time they rolled their eyes at me, I'd be richer than your parents kook." You huffed out and as his gentle laugh surrounded you, you closed your eyes resting your back against the seat, expecting to be up by the time he'd park.

But the next day, you woke up tangled in the sheets of your bed, unaware of the events of the previous night.

When you had warned yuta about the dirty dishes, you hadn't expected him to fill the corners of the kitchen with disposable containers. It looked like you had missed a whole drama while sleeping in the library. The kitchen was shining except for the new utensils. But as long as you were not babysitting him, you were fine with anything. You didn't want to jinx your relief, however, you were glad you would be able to get some work done. finally.

You had spoken too early for your own good. Just when you sat down to write your paper, passionate and enthusiastic howls of that man pierced through your earphones and once again, you opened the window and hopped outside, in the balcony, ready to drown him out. Sipping on your lemonade, you gaped at the scenery the not so distant traffic provided you with and somehow, your thoughts wandered to the only person these horns reminded you of. Johnny.

What are you doing? Your fingers hovered over the text but once again, you deleted the message, declaring it to be too childish for someone as mature as him. Maybe you were just being silly. Maybe you were not. But who was going to put a stamp on your maybe?

Tears pricked your eyes as the harsh words of your senior thundered in the room. He kept shouting and you had no option than to consume each and every word he directed at you. Even if you were being insulted in front of your twenty other co-workers, staying quiet was the best option, you ascertained. so along with your saliva, you gulped your explanations down your throat.

Howsoever unconscious, you were still in the wrong. There was no excuse as to why you had mailed the wrong bills, apart from the headache that was caused by the person possibly lying on the sofa and watching t.v back home. No matter how much you tried to run away from his existence, he had somehow managed to let himself inside your head.

Glaring at the kid who asked for his turn on the park swing, you pushed yourself a little higher, letting the wind greet your stinging eyes as it hit your face in waves. Your phone buzzed in your pocket and you chose to ignore jungwoo for a day as it was the time, you decided, to let all the lessons that the past few months had taught you sink into your mind, to bleed into your soul so you won’t ever be able to deviate from them. Ever.

Only if that was so easy. You knew blaming others for your problems was no solution but trivialising them by not paying heed wasn't a smart move either.

When you reached home, your frustrations had died down. So when yuta simpered and pointed towards your empty container, telling you how he had already finished your supposed dinner, you simply rolled your eyes at him, robbing him of whatever he wanted to achieve by riling you up. Heating up the water, you were about to open the noodles packet when yeong called you.

You stared at the shattered phone screen in disbelief as the endless tears ran down your cheeks. As you verbalised the words to yourself again, your body met the floor with a thud.

Jungkook. Drugs. No more.

Three words had silenced the screeches in your head and your mind busied itself in rejecting what you had heard for it had to be a lie. But what how were you going to ignore the heart wrenching screams that yeong had let out. How were you going to dismiss the truth.

How were you all going to accept it?

••••••••••••••••

next update: Some day between 5-7 June.

#nct-writers #neowritingsnet #cznnet #kafenetwork #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct fluff #nct x reader #nct smut #nct angst #nct mafia #nct reactions #yuta scenarios #yuta imagines #yuta smut #nct arrange marriage #yuta angst #yuta mafia #johnny scenarios

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ronalddear · 3 years

Text

Experiment.

hey! this is a little one-shot into some DH tent angst (really doesn't get better than that) this is my first time writing any fanfiction at all so bear in mind that this is very armature.

I've been thinking about this idea for a couple months now and it's officially my headcannon replacement for the Harry-Hermione dance scene in DH, which i'm not the biggest fan of. I've already rambled on a bit but please feel free to reblog and comment your opinions and possible improvements!

The ground was inexplicably hard where Ron stood, the canvas tent behind him violently thrashing through the harsh night wind. Perhaps his thin shoes were wearing out after years of being hand-me downs, or months of endless use while they aimlessly trudged around Britain.

Ron knew though, that he was just tired. He didn't know how his shoulders managed to sag with exhaustion while remaining tense in discomfort but that's how he's been since he woke up in that god-forsaken tent.

He checked and re-enforced the wards, something that he was insanely adamant about after returning, paranoia finally setting in. It was constant at this point, hunger had become somewhat familiar and his fingertips were always a faint purple.

Not that he was complaining, he had Harry and Hermione within arms and ears reach now and he could not possibly ask for anything more.

"Ron! Dinner!", Harry's voice rang through his ears, disrupting his thoughts.

Shit. He had done it. He wasn't aware how long he had been wallowing outside and he was sure the porridge he had taken his time making for the three of them had overcooked on the stove.

He could picture Hermione's look of disdain clearly and cursed himself, not wanting her to get more mad at him but also acknowledging how he had wasted their already near non-existent supply of food.

"Merlin, I'm sorry! I'll try and find something else to-" he began with pace and halted halfway through.

Harry stood expectantly in the tiny living room area in front of Hermione who was neatly sat on their tiny couch. Harry's hands were raised excitedly yet awkwardly in an 'L" shape gesturing towards the worn table where Hermione's books usually lived.

Except there was a small space cleared, and it was occupying a small plate which had about 4 stacks of bread, with jam doused in-between and on top, with the wand that he had given Harry stabbed in the middle, a tiny flame at its tip.

Bloody hell it was a birthday cake.

"My birthday already?" he mumbled, still in awe of the poorly presented but beautiful stack in front of him.

"Well-"

'It was yesterday, I checked the calendar this morning." Hermione cut Harry off shortly, her eyes shamefully anywhere but Ron.

"Oh" he said, wishing so desperately that she would just look at him.

"Come on then mate, make your wish, because I'm not bloody singing" Harry encouraged, his eyes shining fondly at Ron.

With a soft chuckle, he sat on the ground at the table, feeling Harry follow next to him. He blew out the 'candle' softly, not even thinking about his wish, there were simply too many.

Harry gave a low whoop and reached over Ron with a knife and fork and haphazardly cut the cake into thirds.

When Hermione's eyes finally reached his, because yes, he had not taken his eyes off her, his stomach gave a jolt and a small smile graced his lips. Her lips however were still set in the line that she had been giving him for the past couple weeks but her eyes were so gentle and loving, almost unwillingly so, as if she was trying so very hard to be mad. After Harry hurriedly plated their shares and they began eating, a small lump began forming in Ron's throat. He willed himself not to cry, it was just sodding jam soaked toast after all.

He looked up at his two best friends as they ate, observing as Harry scarfed down his portion and as Hermione ate slowly, taking sips of her weak tea in between, knowing it was far too sweet for her taste.

"Wish we could have given you a gift." she said so softly, that he had taken a few seconds to register that she said anything at all.

Her eyes were still on her plate.

"Don't need one", he murmured, hoping that he sounded earnest enough that it could translate how very thankful he was.

"Really?! You sure?", Harry said, and Ron swore for a second that it was eleven year old Harry speaking to him. It was evident that the boy was prone to sugar rushes, even if it was a tablespoon of old jam.

"I have all I need.", he said, voice steadier this time, flashing a grateful smile at him, which was returned.

"Really? Not even a special birthday snog Ron? Because if you want I'll do it again-"

"Harry I'm fine! Merlin's Beard!', Ron interrupted Harry's rushed teasing with loud laughter, Harry's roaring laugh following close behind.

"Wait what do you mean again?" Hermione chanced at Harry, her eyebrows furrowed inquisitively and mouth adorably agape.

Breaking their giggling fit, they both turned towards her , eyes widening at the exact same time. It was then Ron realized that there was soft music playing, presumably from the wireless that was on the table. Has it always been on?

'Nothing don't worry."

"Nothing!"

Harry had followed Ron with the most non-convincing 'nothing' he had ever heard. Sensing what was about to happen, he suddenly felt the strongest urge to slap Harry on the back of his head.

"No no, you said again" Hemione retaliated, her eyes wide as ever, it was the most lively Ron had seen her for months.

"It was once in fourth year!"

'Don't worry about it Hermione, it's fine."

Ron's head snapped toward Harry cursing the stupid sugar in the stupid jam that apparently made Harry, quite frankly, very stupid.

"Wait wait! what?!" Hermione was energetic now and had fully swiveled to face them both.

Realizing that he physically could not lie to Hermione straight to her face, he accepted his fate and both boys began rambling at the same time, Harry excitedly, Ron bracingly.

"Look after the Yule ball-"

"This is rather depressing actually-"

"Shut up Ron, you liked it."

"I don't recall saying I didn't-"

'Anyway, after the shit-show that was the ball, y'know, we wanted to see if-"

"Oh my god I can't believe we're actually- We said we wouldn't tell anyone!"

"Bit late now Ron, anyway, we wanted to-'

"To see if what?!" Hermione gaped at them both, she was clearly teasing now, after seeing Harry's frantic (and hand waving heavy) storytelling and Ron's hair to toe blush.

"Just experimenting-"

"Just for fun!" Harry interjected.

They turned towards each other, eyes wide and then proceeded to practically scream at Hermione.

"Just for fun!'

Just experimenting!"

Great. Now they've switched excuses.

Hermione burst into loud laughter, after much suppression. It was, by far, the most beautiful sound Ron had ever heard and he wished for it to never stop.

This unfortunately, did not halt his maroon blush or the clearly embarrassed look on his face, which made her laugh even more. The second he took a glance at Harry and their eyes met they erupted into an uncontrollable fit of giggles, Harry doubling over and Ron throwing his head back. Drunk on laughter perhaps, Harry leaned over to the wireless and increased the volume, a slow yet rhythmic song filled the small tent.

"Let's have a ball yeah? Like last time?' Harry said, eyebrows wiggling suggestively on the last part, causing Ron to start laughing again, completely red faced.

Hermione struggled to breathe giggling as she looked on at them clearly trying to ballroom dance and failing miserably. The form was so bad no one was sure who was leading at this point, Ron's shoulders much too stiff and Harry's hands much too loose around Ron's waist. They were jumping around madly in the tent laughing harder than ever. Hermione managed to tease once more through gasping breaths,

"Should I leave before you start snogging or-"

"Oh shut up you!", Harry exclaimed, accompanied by a rude hand gesture and Ron simply stared at her and grinned.

'Come join us then', Ron said, holding out his hand for her.

She pretended to think for a moment before getting up, the thin blanket around her laid forgotten on the couch. They rotated for a couple moments, Hermione taking turns in being spun by Harry and Ron, all three of them a giggling mess, their threadbare socks squeaking on the wood floors.

Ron and Harry began a much too rough slow dance once more and Hermione was lightly swaying on her own before standing behind Ron, wrapping her arms around his stomach and tiptoeing her furthest, her nose barely reaching his shoulder. Effectively sandwiched between the pair of them, Ron was thrashing widely in attempts to throw them all off balance, cheeks impossibly red. The lump that was in his throat earlier had developed into free flowing tears and sniffles and he didn't care to stop them.

It didn't bother him because he knew he saw Harry's watering eyes and wobbly smile and felt Hermione's soft sobs through her giggles.

It was definitely the sugar or perhaps the sheer sadness of it all but for a moment they were still children who didn't have any worries or wars to fight on their own. Hermione nuzzled into Ron's back, still giggling, and placed a shy but firm kiss on his jumper-clad shoulder. He reached behind him for her hand and gently pulled her to the front, now spinning both Harry and Hermione, his heart glowing with joy. He tugged her towards him and gave a soft, chaste kiss to her hairline. Now both giggling, they seized Harry and planted two very hard kisses on his cheeks from behind, startling him enough to let out a disgusted squeak and he roared with laughter as he wiped his face on his jacket.

It was insanely messy but it was perfect. So perfect that Ron didn't care that in the morning he would have to second guess if Hermione was even close to forgiving him or that Harry would brood all day about the Hallows and be distant from them both, a war on their shoulders. He was with the two people he loved the most and for that he was thankful.

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caxsthetic · 4 years

Text

Just Fine

Miya Osamu x F!Reader

Hurtful Truth: Sometimes no matter how long you have loved them, if they don’t want to stay, they wouldn’t stay.

Part 1 ⇛ Pt. 2

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *. GRAND MASTERLIST .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Your eyes focused on the television in front of you, the screen was the only thing that lit the dark room you were in right now. You felt safe as you laid there on the couch with huge amounts of blankets wrapped around your figure.

It calmed you down and made you forget about everything that happened in your life recently.

You didn’t bother to check your phone, knowing for certain who’s name would pop out on your notifications. You really didn’t need a reminder that someone just broke you into a million little pieces.

To be loved was something that not every human being could feel. You knew that, and the fact you actually believed that someone would love you was one thing that you would regret as you wake up every morning.

And you fall to the mirage, for the past ten years in your life.

You and him always belonged in each other's side, everyone that saw the two of you could even see how the future would unfold perfectly. They always said that you and him would end up in marriage,

And tragically, you believed in every word that they said, since it boosted your confidence that someone like you could actually have someone as majestic as him to be your significant other.

The Miya Osamu, one of the most successful entrepreneurs below thirty three, the one person that had your heart since you were sixteen,

And the one who broke your trust.

It was Saturday night, both of you were laying together on the couch in your shared house. The house that used to be empty, a house that was so cheap that the two of you could afford right after graduating from college.

But little by little, the house turned into a safe haven, renovated with all the contemporary detail as the two of you poured your blood and sweat into this house,

A house that has now become a home, the place that made the two of you believe everything would be alright. Just the two of you together, and maybe someday, filled with another little Miya.

His arms wrapped loosely around your figure while you rested your head on top of his chest. He would occasionally caress your hair gently, and you would close your eyes to feel all of his affection.

It was your weekend break when the two of you soaked in each other’s warmth; the time when the two of you closed yourself from the universe, when everything just rotated around you and him.

The atmosphere that surrounded the two of you was so serene. Though, it all changed when he appeared on the television screen all of a sudden. Your eyes lit up immediately, realising that it was your fiancé who was now being interviewed on screen.

You sat up, straightening your posture as your body leaned towards the television. Proudness welled up inside your heart as you heard him answering questions after questions that were being thrown at him.

He always told you everything about Onigiri Miya. About all the events, all of his interviews, a new branch that he opened, even all the commercial plans. He did that, because he knew you would be so proud of him. Having someone that constantly praised you was addicting to him.

But what you didn’t notice as you were so excited to see him on the screen, was the horror on his face as he remembered the reason why he didn’t tell you about this interview.

“And how about you and your fiancée? Is the wedding bell around the corner?”

“Babe, this is embarrassing, let’s just change the channel.” He pleaded, but you were too focused on the television, your eyes never leave the screen as a wide grin plastered on your face, “Babe, please-”

“Unfortunately no, please don’t ask about my personal life.”

But then, your smile was replaced with a confused look as you heard his answer.

Your name was known as the woman behind the Onigiri Miya, the support system that everyone wanted to have in their life with how loyal you were towards the one that you loved. And as your fiancé, he always answered questions about you with pride lingering on his face.

So when you saw him averting his gaze to the corner while answering the question, you knew that something was up.

“Samu, has something happened?” You finally turned towards him, “Do you want to talk about it, love?” Your eyes locked onto his face, wondering why he stayed silent and just looked away from you, “You know that I am always up to talk about anything with you, right?”

Yet the reason behind his unusual answer was something that you could never prepare yourself for. You could feel your breath hitched once he met your gaze. His eyes were filled with sadness, orbs glistening with tears as he finally dared to look up at you.

Then just like that, he averted your gaze once again, and that’s when you knew that he was hiding something from you.

“Samu,” Your hand gently wrapped around his much larger hand; you could feel how the man was trembling. Your fiancé's skin felt as cold as ice compared to yours, “Love, what is it? Please look at me, I am worried for you, Samu.”

Your fiancé let out a sigh, squeezing your hand a little before pulling away from you. You eyed him as he stood up from the couch, eyes staring down at you with remorse evident on his face.

“I-I am sorry,” His voice trembled as he couldn’t look straight into your eyes anymore, “I did something. Something bad,” Tears were streaming down his face as he sobbed.

By that, you immediately stood up, wrapping your arms around him to give some comfort,

“Sshhh, Samu, it’s alright…” You didn’t know what was it about, but the only thing in your mind right now was to make sure he would be alright, “We can talk about it-”

“But that's the thing. We can’t!” Osamu suddenly snapped, pulling himself away from your embrace as he realised that he didn’t deserve any of your affection, “This is something that we cannot talk about, (Y/N).”

“Samu, you don’t know about that-”

“I'm cheating on you!”

And at those four words, you swore you could hear your heart break. You immediately took a step backwards as you wrapped your arms around your own body, feeling the temperature dropping.

You bit your lip, mind still trying to process the words. Cheating. That was something that you never thought someone like Miya Osamu would do. Hell, it was something that you never thought any of your family or friends would do, let alone your fiancé.

“W-with who?” You were always there for him, and you knew damn well no matter who it was, the answer would tear yourself apart. However, you needed to know. You needed to know what they had that you didn’t that could make him did this to you.

“(Y/N)-”

“With. Who.” Your eyes bored into his with a look that he couldn’t fathom as you hardened your voice, “I deserve to know the whole sto-”

“It’s Rintarou.” But you didn’t expect your brother’s name to be leaving your fiancé's lips. “We happened to meet up a lot when I planned the branch for Onigiri Miya in East Japan, I-”

“That was six months ago…” You muttered under your breath when the realisation hit you. Osamu could feel the lump in his throat as he still decided to either speak or stay silent.

Although just like what you said, you deserved to know the whole story.

“We have been meeting each other ever since.” He gulped down, his voice beginning to break, “Every week, when you are busy in your office.”

Never once in your life have you thought you would be in this position right now. Tears were streaming down your face as you looked up to the man that you sacrificed everything for.

“What kind of meeting?” Right now, your voice betrayed you as it cracked a little. “How far have two of you gone?” By the forlorn look on his face, it was enough for you to know, “For god sake, Samu!”

You chuckled bitterly, dazed by the fact you have been betrayed by the two most important people that you had in this life. Right now you couldn’t even think straight. The feelings you felt right now were all too much. All that you wanted at the moment was just to vanish.

Your fiancé walked up towards you, regret evident inside his beautiful orb, glistening with tears. Because he knew, he just broke one person who was always there for him from the start. The women who supported him through thick and thin. From when he was still nothing.

You were someone who was there when the spotlight was only rotated around his brother. You were there during every breakdown, every failed recipe, every declined partnership. You were always there for him, patiently supporting him through everything.

“I am sorry, (Y/N).” His voice wavered, both hands timidly extended towards you. Solicitude struck him to the core as he wanted to pull you into his embrace, but at the same time Osamu knew he had broken you beyond repair. “I didn’t mean to do it… It just happened.”

You snorted in between your tears when you heard his words. From all the movies and television series that you have watched together with him, you always heard the same sentence numerous times already. The words that popped out...

From the lips of the character who cheated.

“Having sex with someone- no. not just somone,” You coated your pain with a snarky remarks, trying to act tough in front of the man who broke your heart, “When you have sex with your fiancé's brother everytime she wasn't around can't be excused with 'it just happened', Samu.”

Osamu knew the second he captured someone else’s lips, he could never turn it back around. He just cheated on you, someone who didn’t deserve to be treated like this. You, who would leave everything behind if that means he could be happy.

Even if that means you would never have your own happy ending.

Cheating is a taboo relationship that was made by two people who agreed to get into it, and he understood that what he had with the professional volleyball player could never end up well. Yet he did it anyway, for the last six months. With your very own brother.

It was more like a neverending nightmare for you. To have someone that you gave your whole heart to, the same someone who you spent your whole early life with, only to stab you in the back.

Two people who broke your heart were the two people you trusted the most. And each one of them was someone who you held dear inside your heart.

The buzzing sounds from your phone brought you back to reality. You groaned because once again, you fell to the unwanted memories that you were trying so hard to forget.

To have the only relationship you ever had falling apart was something that you never prepared yourself to. Up until now, you never knew how it felt to get your heart broken. From all the fights that you had with Osamu, none of them could crack the strong bond that you two shared.

The bond that was now all broken when he decided to get in bed with your brother.

You unconsciously touched your face, feeling the warm tears cascading down your cheek as you wiped it all away with your sleeves. You hated yourself because you felt so blind believing in every word that people said about how you and Osamu would last forever.

Your hand reached for your phone, wondering who in the right mind would call you this late at night. There was no way it was your ex-fiancé, because he always gave you space and only called you in your free time.

You furrowed your eyebrows when you saw the name on the screen. It was Atsumu.

Every time you saw his name, your mind would only think about his twin brother instead; you cursed yourself for even thinking about Osamu all over again. Even when the said man just broke you apart.

Without thinking, you declined the call and decided to turn off your phone for tonight. Your eyes bore into the now black screen, looking out to the reflection of your face. There used to be a glimmer of joy and warmth, but now it was just a blank expression as it stared back into your soul.

“I am sorry,” You were so tired of hearing the same sentence over and over again. “I shouldn’t have been selfish.” Your brother was a man of silence, yet here he was right now in front of the new house you were staying in, repeating the words that he said over the phone since last week.

“There’s no need to say sorry, Rinrin.” You bit your lips, eyes never leaving the ground, “You love him, it’s not your fault to fall in love with… With the same man that I l-love.” You could see how he clenched his fist, and you knew that he felt guilty over it.

There were a lot of things inside his head at the moment as he stood in front of the woman that always had her faith in him. You were the best sister that anyone could even ask for, that one family who he wanted to live the happiest life because you deserved it all.

He felt like a hypocrite because he knew he was the one who took the happiness away from you.

“I broke it off with him,” He muttered under his breath, afraid to see your reaction from the news. Right now, the realisation that he just hurt you was more painful than the fact he just broke up with his lover.

He expected you to be angry at him, saying it doesn’t matter anyway because things already happened and he couldn’t change the past. Maybe you would even curse and punch him; he would be okay if that was your reaction.

Then again, he forgot that it was you who stood in front of him.

“Why?” Your voice was calm as you looked up at him, “Don’t you love Samu, Rinrin?” His breath hitched from the question. Today was supposed to be the day he finally faced you, apologizing for all the heartbreak he put you through. So why was focus suddenly thrown at him?

“I do,” He hesitated to answer that question at first, but he knew too well that you already knew what was inside his heart. Then his eyes widened as he saw a sincere smile plastered on your face.

“So don’t break it off,” You whispered the words so easily as you reached for his hand, “I-I know how much he loves you,” For now, you really hoped his feeling was real, “He is a loyal man, and he would never do such a thing if he wasn't really in love with you, Rinrin.”

Your hand felt so warm as your thumb grazed on the back of his hand. With that little gesture, your brother broke down in front of you, hiccuping from the immense guilt that brewed inside his heart.

“I am sorry, you don’t deserve this.” He sobbed, and you couldn’t help but bring his head to your embrace anyway, “I am sorry, I am sorry.”

People told you that you were too kind for your own good. You have been wrecked by them, torn apart by them. None of them deserves to be treated right, and society would not even be surprised if you wanted to cut everything off from them.

But you were not like that, you could never act like that.

“It’s alright, Rin…” Your hand fell on his hair, holding back your own tears as you realised what it would mean to let them together, “It will be alright,” They would, but not you. Not now, not in forever.

No matter how many times you tried to shake away all of the pain, you couldn’t just undo your love that you felt for Osamu as easily as you want to. Your feelings have been there since the first year of your high school days, it was always there, since your brother asked you to watch his game.

Since the two of you broke off the engagement-for an obvious reason-, you only saw him on the television. Sometimes you still look back at all the messages that he had sent for you; laughing over the joke, smiling from his sweet words, but ended up with tears as you remember there would be no more messages like that.

So you could only stare at the blank screen of your phone, the reflection showed how your eyes glistened with tears once more.

“Oh! That’s Miya Osamu!” You jerked your head back to the television, heart beats a lot faster by just the mention of his name, “Come on, make sure you got a good angle of him.”

You chuckled, a little smile adorned your face as you saw him looking as gorgeous as ever with a black suit wrapped around his torso. He was in some kind of red carpet gala, and of course, invited there as he was one of the most successful entrepreneurs of the century.

He received a lot of invitation, but he would usually turn it down if you couldn’t be his plus one due to how busy you are with your own business sometimes. So when you realised what does it mean for him to be there, you dropped your phone to the ground,

Right when your brother appeared on the screen.

“You look so good tonight, Osamu!”

“Thank you, I couldn’t do it without his help.”

You thought you were ready to see them on the same frame. Their eyes glimmered with something that the camera could even catch,

“The two of you looked so good together, I am jealous!”

“Really? I guess we do, huh?”

From the look on his face, you knew that Miya Osamu really fall in love with the man in his arm,

“Is the wedding bell around the corner?”

It was the same question, the same question that he received a year ago at the night he confessed what he did to you,

“Yeah,”

But the answer was so different, nothing like the time when he was still yours.

“The wedding bell is around the corner for sure.”

He kissed the man beside him, a loving smile adorned his face as your brother chuckled with blush spread around his cheek.

It used to be you, to be in his embrace as he showed the world how much he loves you. It used to be you, to be the one who received his kiss and affection. It used to be you, who wore the match engagement ring with him.

Sometimes you wonder what would happen if you never gave them permission to be together. You wonder if any of you still get hurt, or maybe by time all of the broken trust would be healed, and the three of you would have a beautiful future with someone else.

Your friends told you to walk away from your past, telling you that your ex fiance and your brother didn’t deserve to be together, since both of them stabbed you from behind.

For six months, without you knowing. For six months, as you laid in his embrace with his heart belonged to someone else. For six months, you kissed the lips that had captured another.

Then again, you love them, a little bit too much that even though they were the one who took away the smile from your face, you couldn’t just let them suffer. Either from guilt, or from the heartbreak that would haunt them.

You knew how it felt since he decided to love someone else other than you, you were damn knew how it felt to love someone, but couldn’t have them anymore,

So who are you to stop two people in love from being together?

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ༶•┈┈⛧┈♛ ♛┈⛧┈┈•༶ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Thanks to my bby @iwaixiumi for being my beta reader!

Tagged Lovelies:

@vventure @heccingdead @muffins-puffins @miyuswriting @nanashinanashi @vlovers-world @proplayer-kenma @kashika @cuddlyasahi @blacckdiamondposts @muffngw @baby-boy-taichi @of-heroes-and-dreams @for-ests @giyuwu-san @oli-imagines @lordeofthunder @miyatsunami @analyze-hq @benewol @allywritesimagines @iwaixiumi @hihiq @gulfwanq @the-fandom-ness @quirksandbreaths @dear-green-tea @simp4tsukkii @ladyalicevii @evermorehaikyuu @clowninfortodoroki @koutaroulovebot @daiseukis @fitriiaw @macaronnv @verbluehte

#miya osamu #miya osamu x reader #miya osamu imagine #miya osamu scenario #miya osamu drabble #miya osamu oneshot #haikyuu miya osamu #miya twins #miya osamu angst #miya osamu fluff #haikyuu scenario #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu drabble #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu angst #miya osamu x suna rintarou

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pumpkinpot · 3 years

Text

Hoshi

A/N: this is part of the Citrus Dome Sci-Fi collab. this is also pure fluff. no smut, no real angst. just spooky summer vibes and poly love. I hope you enjoy. (I’m sorry for grammatical errors in advance.)

synopsis: since beginning your relationship with Katsuki Bakugou and Ochako Uraraka you’ve developed a love for exploring abandon places with them whenever you three have time to explore. This time, so happens to land on a derelict observatory. (additional head canons for this story on my tik tok under pumpkinpots)

“It says here it was abandoned in the mid-nineteenth century due to the spike in light pollution with the growth of the city,” you say, pointing to the dome at the peak of the building. “All of the mobile telescopes were transferred to the university's observatory, while this placed rotted away.

Uraraka half listens, levitating sheetrock from the doorway and discarding them in the nearby field.

“Why just abandon it?” Katsuki asks, fiddling with varying lenses in his camera bag. “Couldn’t this have been a museum or something?”

“Yeah,” you agree, shifting a glance to make sure Uraraka doesn’t need help. “It looks like it was bought by a merchant in the eighties who wanted to turn it into a house, but he was indicted for tax evasion before the renovations ever finished. It hasn’t been touched since.”

He scoffs with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. “Rich idiots.”

Uraraka brushes specks of dust off her palms across her cut-off shorts before urging us alone. “Shall we?”

It takes two and a half pushes to nudge the door wide enough to squeeze through. The observatory opens to us with a groan of whining metal and the scratch of loose dirt on concrete.

Centered in the main foyer, a gaping mural of blue and white cobblestone depicts a dusty map of astrology stars.

Katsuki has to be coaxed with a promise to be flashed to pose under the Taurus constellation for a picture, meanwhile, Uraraka floats just above Pisces with a cute puffy cheeked expression.

Names, small sayings, and symbols decorate the wall in vibrant graffiti, the place a cocktail of color and wild Ivy.

"It's a lot more lit than I thought I'd be," Uraraka says, stuffing her flashlight into her bag.

Katuski keeps the light attached to his camera lit as he weaves in and out of rooms, zooming in on old books and broken equipment.

We follow him through a puzzle of what seemed to be living quarters and small classrooms, ending in a half oval auditorium.

At the center of the stage a white globe balances on a pillar of cement.

“What’s this?” Uraraka asks.

You touch where someone had attempted to derail the sphere like a baseball before trailing your eyes above the layered seating. “It's a projector ball. Technicians would likely project light from there into the ball to make it seem like the planet or star they were studying. That's why it's,” you knock on the sphere's cool solid surface. “Crystal.”

Uraraka shines her phone’s light into it, the shattered pieces reflecting shapes in a dim glow.

Katsuki points the camera into the orb, the bluish tint reminds you of the similar one in the abandoned lighthouse you’d explored with them two years ago. Though that one would have lit from the inside.

Quickly you explore the base and second levels, eager to get to the actual observatory. It's evident where the renovations to make this a home had been started and never finished. Small cracks in the floor, sealed with caulk, loose wooden planks pillaring knocked in walls.

It could have been a beautiful home, you think to yourself.

Up the second flight of stairs gradually more and more light fills the space until you are bathed in the orange glow of early dusk. A large open scare slits the dome, edging with rust and ivy. The circular room holds nothing of true value, nothing left behind but broken tables and a ladder to the viewing balcony tailing the opening of the dome.

“The big telescope that would have been here-” Uraraka says, fiddling with the screw holes in the floor, “- would have been a refracting telescope. It uses small bits of glass to magnify what you’re looking at, then is bent back through the telescope hitting the eyepiece. The other kind is a reflector,” she continues, “It's got a primary mirror at the bottom of the lens into a second mirror than a third eyepiece mirror. This one is mostly used to see the different parts of a star to see what it's made out of.”

Katsuki and you exchange looks of pure astonishment. "how do you know all this?" you ask.

She fishes a gum wrapper from one of the holes, tossing it to the side. “Before I was accepted into UA I was really considering going into astronomy. I thought it fit so well with my quirk, but the courses were too expensive.”

"More expensive than UA?" Katuski asks, refocusing his camera.

She nods, seeming just as dumbfounded as us.

“Do you think it could work on my explosions?”

“If you were in space maybe,” you hypothesize, “but in that case, we probably wouldn’t see it for a long while.”

He seems semi disappointed as if his evening plans had been somehow derailed.

You run your hands across the walls of the dome, dusk sun baking its metal frame like a soup pot.

For a moment you just watch them. It’d been so long since the opportunity arose for the three of you to go exploring. With you still temporarily stationed in the American hero commission and those two workings in Japan it was rare to find time to skype let alone go on adventures. You were lost in the bliss of having your partners so near without having to scream about a lost wifi connection when your hand hit something protruding from the wall.

“What are these?” you ask, inspecting circular gears attached to a crank.

“It looks like the wheel to turn the dome,” Uraraka says.

Katsuki zooms in on the puzzle of rigid plates. “This bitch turns?”

“Yeah, that slit doesn't move so the dome has to, to accommodate where in the sky they were looking.”

Katsuki fingers the gears a moment, mapping its track all across the sphere. He traces along the parts not layered in rust until he’s back at the start. “Do you think it still works?”

“Not without some serious lube and strong arms.”

“We’re one for two,” you suggest.

Katsuki hands over his camera to Uraraka, positioning himself opposite you to push the lever, while you pull left.

At first, the dial stays put, its stance unforgiving, but after a bit more pull than push a deafening whine reverberating through the entire observatory.

No visible move happens until the second crank roundabout when the shift of light against concrete becomes clear.

Katsuki’s eyes light with sheer amazement as the entire dome rotates around you. We are halfway through a full rotation before Uraraka shouts for you to stop.

You push on the lever stilling its movements as quickly as you can.

She holds a finger head tilted to the side. “Do you hear that?”

Your breath balloons in your chest as you lean in closer. The tiniest of whimpers echo around the dome from the viewing balcony.

One after another you file up the ladder, hopping on the edge of the dome. Balancing on the concrete crease between the moving track and the rest of the building you search for the sound.

“Here!” Uraraka yells from the other side.

You sprint as much as you dare, teetering along the two-story edge.

She squats over the body of a squirming animal, a tuft of fur caught in the track of the dome's rotation. She coddles its little frame, before reaching a hand out to you. “Y/n, your knife-”

Hesitantly you hand it over. She snips away the stuck pieces muttering thanks that none of the actual tail got caught. She folds the blade back into itself, pinching leaves and sticks from the animal's fur and tossing them over the side.

She holds it up, floppy ears and a black nose making it a nearly recognizable creature. A puppy.

He looks to be light brown, but that could be the soot.

Katsuki checks around the dome for any signs of a litter or mamma, before joining us with a shake of his head.

The pup squirms and with an open mouth, letting all sorts of noises tumble from his dirt-covered tongue.

Uraraka floats the puppy to the floor of the dome, as we file down the ladder. You empty the contents of your water bottle into a cup for drinking and the rest onto its back for cooling.

His fur peaks through white and brown spotted under layers of grime.

“Well,” Uraraka says, “we’ve been talking about wanting to expand our family.”

“I suppose there’s no better place to start,” you add, both of us looking to Katsuki for consensus.

He passes glances between the three of us. “Fine, but I get to name it.”

“Alright, but we get veto power.”

“Explosion-”

“Veto,” you say in unison.

He looks around puffy-lipped. “I didn't even get to finish.”

“Explosion nothing,” Uraraka clarifies.

He’s silent for a long moment looking around the space. “Hoshi?.”

“Star?” you confirm.

“This observatory was used to study the stars, wasn’t it?” He bats.

You and Uraraka exchange a satisfied, yet surprised look. You hadn’t expected something so- normal. This is after all the same man that made you name your golden pothos “boom boom boi” in his honor.

“I like it,” you say.

“Approved,” adds Uraraka.

We better take our picture before it gets too dark,” he says, turning away so you can’t see the blush on his cheeks. He switches out his filming camera for a smaller polaroid, propping it up on the edge of a broken table.

He runs back as the timer ticks down. He slides to your right side, Uraraka on your left. Their arms link behind you as you hold Hoshi up to your mid-chest. Clicking down from five you all give your cheesiest grins. A rectangular card spits from the bottom of the camera.

Ochaco shakes it a few times, swapping you a picture, for a puppy.

You wait for the picture to pixelate before opening the ninety-cent notebook of film slips and position it in the next available spot.

Urarka’s cut-off shorts and Katsuki's tanned shoulders are a stark contrast to the puffy blue coat and chunky knit beanie from the last abandoned mansion expedition last time. Before that, the three of us accidentally matched our windbreakers to Midoryia during a tour of The Ghost Candy Shop in Kyoto. We look like a group of tourists.

The small book seemed to be filling quickly despite the rareness of time to get away. Memories pile up from when it was just Uraraka and Katsuki to when you became a staple to their adventures. They’d given you responsibility for the book to garner your importance to them in their relationship until the reasoning for the gift became nothing more than routine. You were theirs, and they were yours.

Now a new member had sprouted in your little family, and if you squinted, you could imagine the rest of the pages being filled with the pup in aged years to maybe more as time goes on.

Right now, you were happy with the three and a half of you.

#bakugou x reader #uraraka x reader #bakugou x uraraka #ochako x reader #mha x reader #bakugou fluff #bakugou x y/n #Uraraka fluff #mha fluff

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shadowhunterlegend · 3 years

Text

The Theft's Captive: A Star Wars Story

=======================

Please note: This is the first time I'm posting some of my writing online. Let me know what yall think :D

When Carly, a smuggler dealing in information, gets captured by the First Order, she has no way to escape. After months of compliance she has gained some of General Hux's trust, giving her some freedom on Starkiller base.

Warning or triggers: Mentions of heart/medical conditions that cause episodes

=======================

Pride swelled in her chest as she reached the entrance to the base before the Captain. She had been surprised when her request had been approved to take the speeders out for a spell, she was a prisoner on Starkiller base after all. Finally she would get some fresh air. Her cooperation had definitely made a difference.

She made a sharp turn at the entrance before bringing the speeder to a hault. Even though the icy wind cut through her during the excursion, she couldn't be any warmer. She pulled off her helmet revealing the proud grin on her face. She was glowing despite the cloud cover and snow, a result of the thin layer of sweat she had built up.

The thrill of the race mixed with the pride of winning caused her heart to race at an alarmingly elevated rate. She ignored the beeping of her wristband that she had been instructed to wear, ever since her last adrenaline episode. Her zombie-like state with the addition of her somehow escaping her cell alarmed General Hux and Captain Phasma especially. If Ren saw her in such a state or out of her cell, after numerous guard rotations and extra security measures, he would be the one to blow a gasket this time around. No, the wristband was a wise decision with little to no protest on Carly's part.

Her heart pounded in her chest and pulsated in her eardrums. This was exhilarating! She beamed when the captain arrived shortly after. "I told you I wasn't planning an escape," Carly jested. Her statement caused Phasma to chuckle. "I should have taken your word for it."

They both dismounted their speeders with Carly practically bouncing with every step. Her pupils had already dilated from the excessive adrenaline her body created. Her skin was tinged with a pink tone caused by her rising heat level along with the adrenaline. Phasma failed to notice these factors but the beeping caught her attention almost immediately, which was still unbeknownst to Carly. "How amazing was that? And in the snow no less. I guarentee that I would have hit a tree if it weren't for the handling on these bad boys," she chirped before she noticed Phasma's attention focused on her wrist. "What is it?" She asked but before Phasma could reply the medic and scientist from before burst into the hanger, sprinting the whole way, syringe and medkit in hand. The heart band wouldn't be successful without their help. Carly's glowing eyes and bright face beamed even brighter once the two entered the hanger. "I didn't expect to see you two again so soon. You must have heard about my outing with the captain. Wait, how did you know-" she was cut off by the medic taking hold of her wrist in order to turn Carly's arm over and inject the syringe. The scientist focused his effort on using an additional heart monitor and data pad to check her vitals and compare it to the wristband's readings. The both of them were panic stricken. Their breathing still hadn't evened out after their run from the medbay, most likely. "What are you two doing?" Carly questioned. However, the question fell on deaf ears as both ocupiced themselves with her wellbeing. "You two responded quickly," Phasma noted, almost as if wanting them to explain their quick actions. "Captain, we apologize for not greeting you sooner. We responded as soon as the data pad sent out its warning," the scientist replied, still testing the readings to see if the device hadn't malfunctioned. "Ms Johnson, we are on orders to escort you to the medbay at once," the medic hastily interjected. "But why?" Another question that wouldn't be answered as the medic shined a small flashlight into Carly's eyes. "On whose orders? I was to supervise her," Phasma questioned, suddenly suspicious of the timing. The pair looked at one another before replying in unison, "General Hux, Captain."

Phasma nodded. "Very well. I will escort you to the medbay," Phasma spoke to Carly. Carly only blinked in response especially after she had the small flashlight half blinded her. The medic spoke up once more while leading Carly by the arm, "Ms Johnson, it would be best to refrain from walking too fast. We don't want you getting worked up any further."

"Worked up?" Her face was etched into confusion, "Are you kidding? That was a blast! I can't remember the last time I took a ride on a speeder!

And why are we going to the medbay? I feel fantastic." Her words spilled from her mouth a mile a minute as her adrenaline levels spiked even further from remembering the exciting experience. The panic in the medic and scientist's eyes grew as the wristband beeped louder and faster. Phasma tried her best to take control of the situation by egging Carly on to walk toward the medbay, which was working, only for a short while unfortunately. Both the medic and scientist stayed on either side of Carly, the medic tightly grasping the medkit and the scientist with his eyes focused on the data pad. Phasma instructed Carly to focus on breathing rather than rambling on. They all strutted through the corridors of the base with small clusters of stormtroopers moving aside when they noticed the frantic specialists and especially their captain. They would give her a curt nod or a simple "Captain" as they proceeded to move out of the way.

Carly's brain ran a mile a minute. Keeping quiet helped with the breathing, however, the amount of thoughts racing through her mind made her head spin. The addition of the adrenaline made her feel sick to her stomach and only caused her body temperature to spike further. The medic and scientist gave each other a weary look. It's as if they had a brief telepathic conversation before the medic declared, "Let's take a rest. You should sit down over here, Ms Johnson. Edwin will bring you a wheelchair to take you the rest of the way." She helped Carly move over to a bench in the corridor while Edwin had already rushed off to get the wheelchair. "That's it. Nice and easy now," the medic soothed as she assisted Carly in sitting down. Carly gave a delirious nod before resting her head back on the metal wall behind her. "Will she be alright?" Phasma asked, an underlying tone of concern and slight panic evident in her words. The medic crouched down next to Carly, opening her medkit to retrieve another syringe. "The sooner we get her to the medbay the better, Captain. I can't be certain right now if she will be alright. Could you please help me remove her jacket?" The medic's honesty surprised Phasma. Phasma sat next to Carly, leaning her forward slightly in order to free her arms from the sleeves. Carly's head ragdolled forward over the captain's shoulder in her delirious state. "Why remove her jacket now? The last syringe you put in her wrist," Phasma observed. The more answers the better in the event that she would have to fill out an incident report. The medic signed and explained, "She's starting to overheat. Notice how the veins are becoming more prominent and her skin is turning red. The jacket could also make her feel restricted and, in her current state, the panic will only make the situation worse. A sedative will at least bring down her heart rate."

"Won't that effect her medication you gave a short while back?" After successfully removing the jacket, Carly was placed against the wall again. The medic administered the injection. This in combination with the cooler surroundings caused Carly to let out a relieved sigh. "Thank you, Captain. No, luckily it won't cause any issues. Ms Johnson here already explained what can and can't be used in different situations."

Just after the process had been completed, Edwin came around the corner, wheelchair at the ready. "Edwin, what are her readings?" The medic questioned immediately.

Edwin took out his data pad scanning over the new information. "I don't know what the hell you did but her heart rating is slowly stabilizing," Edwin replied, giving off a sigh after his frantic sprint down the corridors. The medic was relieved at the news.

"Let's get you into the chair," Phasma said to the sweating mess sitting next to her. "Did you hear me?" Carly ran a shaky hand over her face, blinking a few times before nodding in response. Getting her up and into the wheelchair proved quick and painless, thankfully, which made the rest of the journey to the medbay easier.

#star wars #kylo ren #general hux #captain phasma #starkiller base #first order

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years

Note

feel free not to take this but it is still technically march so. vampire sternclay nsfw, a hungry submissive vampire being so, so good in the hope that their human will let them have a taste?

Here it is! I guess it’s april now but eh, on this blog it’s always monster time.

Content Notes: Mentions of blood, since we’re dealing with vampires. The roleplay in this could read as dubcon, since Stern has something Barclay needs, but aftercare is shown and even in the scene it’s clear Barclay feels safe and happy.

“I thought we could act out that, um, request you had for me tomorrow night”

“The one where you let me…”

“Yes, big guy, that one.”

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

Barclay waits in Mt. Sterns study, clock on the mantle reading three minutes to six. Lamps are being lit up and down the street as the citizens of London flock out into the first warm night of the year. Barclay will not be joining them; Mr.Stern has other plans for him, and the crosses over the windows and doors to the street ensure Barclay doesn’t go anywhere without his permission.

It could be worse. Much worse.

Mr. Stern frequents the gentleman's club where Barclay is (was) a cook, is polite and charming when he discusses the latest evidence of monsters in the Himalayas or the depths of the sea. He’s American, like Barclay, which meant someone appreciated the pies he made for dessert. Every visit, he stopped by the kitchen to compliment Barclays food, insisting was the best in the city.

So imagine Barclays’ horror when, half-starved and foggy-brained, the man he pounced on in an alley turned out to be none other than Joseph Stern. The fear intensified when the human easily overpowered and pinned him, revealing that he was an agent of the crown, a member of the Royal Order of Vampire Hunters.

“I can’t let you free, not in good conscience given you attacked me and could attack someone else. But I don’t want to hurt you, Barclay.”

The agents solution was to bring the vampire home with him, lock him in the safety of the cellar (so he wouldn’t get burnt), and use him as a subject for his research. Mr. Stern prides himself on being the preeminent scholar on the subject of vampirism (“Dr. Helsing’s research is sorely lacking, but everyone goes to him because of the Harker Affair”), and couldn’t pass up the chance to make use of his live-in vampire. Generally, he peppers Barclay with questions or submits him to minor medical tests, always giving him a glass of blood to drink while they work. That glass is conspicuously absent tonight, as was the note Mr. Stern usually leaves him detailing what to expect.

Barclay bounces his knee as his stomach growls; they ran out of blood last night and a new supply has yet to arrive. Then the door opens, and he perks up like a bloodhound offered a bone.

“Hello, Barclay, thank you for being so prompt.” Mr.Stern is in his full suit, hair styled as if he just returned from the office.

“Of course, sir. I, uh, I’ve been looking forward to this all day.” He smiles, licks his lips as the human removes his jacket, revealing more of his throat in the process.

“You like being my research assistant?”

“Very much sir.”

Mr. Stern rolls up his shirtsleeves, “I think you’ll like tonight's experiment quite a bit. On the desk.” He pats the strangely empty hardwood and Barclay sits on the edge, tall enough that his feet still touch the floor. The human opens his dictograph, stops before turning it on, “lie down.”

Barclay does as he’s told, jolts in confusion as Stern pulls three leafs of wood from the desk; one on either side of Barclay and one at his feet, meaning that his whole body is on the table with a few inches of room to spare on all sides.

“This isn’t your normal desk, is it sir?”

“No, I had it made just for us.” The dictograph clicks on, “April 14th, experiment twenty-nine; determining the relationship between sexual arousal and bloodlust in vampires.”

“Wait, what?” Barclay bolts upright, starts climbing off the desk only for Stern to firmly cup his cheek.

“Barclay, you want to be a good specimen, don’t you?” Something sharp and wicked as a scalpel glints behind the clinical curiosity in his blue eyes.

“Yes, sir.” He does, he really does, but he’s so hungry. Hungry and terrified that whatever Stern is planning will cause Barclay to admit the feelings he has to keep reburying in his chest thanks to their reemerging whenever Stern smiles at him.

“Then do as you’re told.” He takes his hand away, Barclay mourning the loss of contact as the reclines back onto the desk.

“Much better.” Stern walks around the desk, patting Barclay’s head along the way, “If you’re good tonight, I’ll give you a special reward. One you’ve never had before.”

Barclay resolves to be better than he’s ever been. Stern's rewards are well planned and generous, leaving Barclay positively spoiled when he’s done. He buys him the expensive draught that lets vampires consume non-blood foods without illness, then takes him to dinner. Brings him rare teas and books to read while he sips them. When he learned Barclay liked theater and opera, evenings out in finery became part of the rotation. He can’t imagine what the extra special reward will be, but he hopes it involves more of Sterns gentle touches on his skin.

“I’m starting the experiment now. To establish our baseline, how aroused are you?”

“Like, a little?”

“Are you craving blood?”

“Yeah, I’m kinda hungry, but not like, crazed or anything.”

“Good. I’ll keep checking in with the subject throughout the process.” He pulls a notebook from his shelf, and Barclay can see a checklist running down the page, “I’ll start by relaxing the subject.”

The detached manner in which Stern refers to him should aggravate him; instead, his cock twitches in his pants and he squirms, hoping the human will say it again.

Stern rolls Barclays pants up to his knees, picks up his right foot and kneads his thumb along the arch. He finds all the sore spots with ease (almost as if he’s done this before), Barclay moaning softly as he works his way up one leg and then other. The vampire is so relaxed by the end he almost misses Stern guiding his wrists into the cuffs on either side of him.

“Sir?”

“It’s for your safety and mine; you may get agitated later on, and I don’t want you injuring yourself. Arousal level?”

“About the same.”

Stern raises his eyebrow.

“Uh, I mean, about the same, sir.”

“Hunger?”

“The same, sir.”

The agent turns back to the dictaphone, “Subject is now restrained. Proceeding to step twoOW, shit.” He sets the notebook down and shoves his right pointer finger into his mouth.

It’s only a small paper-cut, bleeding a bead of red when he pulls it out to examine it. To Barclay, it’s like someone cracked open a fine wine and is taking their sweet time pouring.

Stern notices his interest immediately, “Is this what you want, Barclay? To taste me?”

He whines, nodding his head. Stern’s hand hovers over his face; he could reach it with his tongue, but if he takes it without permission the human will no doubt revoke his reward.

The cut finger strokes his neck, leaving a faint trail of red that he can smell but neither see nor reach.

“Then I guess it’s convenient that’s your reward for tonight.”

“Ohfuckyes, sir, thank you sir.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, we’re only through step one. Where was I” he flips to the same page in his notes, “Oh, right. Addition of even a faint trace of blood lead to increased arousal in the subject. Testing the reverse pathway now.”

“Ohhhhhhfuck” Barclay bucks his hips as Joseph palms his cock through his pants. The warmth and pressure are enough to tease, to coax his cock up, but too little for him to do anything but rut like a needy dog on his hand.

“It looks like stronger stimulation is required.”

“AHahgodOWfuck” tears prick his eyes and he wishes, not for the first time, that he’d been less prone to taking the lords name in vain when he was human. The habit is hard to break and the word burns his tongue whenever it’s uttered.

Sterns eyes flick up to his face just long enough for him to see Barclay isn’t hurt, then they return to his cock. His hand moves in calculated, steady strokes, his voice calm even as Barclays grunts of pleasure fill the room.

“Good boy, Barclay. Let’s see what happens if I…”

“Fuck, ohfucksir.” He jerks his hips as Stern quickens his hand, pre-cum slicking the shaft.

“Subjects fangs are emerging, salivary glands seem more active, eyes-Barclay, be quiet, you’re going to drown out my notes.”

This statement does not have the desired effect, as the thought of the device picking up his moans, of Stern playing them back with a clinical ear or fucking himself to them or letting other hunters listen to just what a vampire will do in order to feed, makes him moan louder.

Stern stops entirely, his tone a warning, “Barclay.”

“S-sorry sir, it, it just, it feels so good, wanted you to, to know I like it. It’s, it’s an honor to feel your hands on me.”

“That’s very sweet. So sweet that I’ll make you a deal; if you can be quiet until after you cum, you can make as much noise as you want afterwards. Understood?”

“Yes sir.” He clamps his jaw shut, fangs pricking the inside of his mouth. Stern works his cock relentlessly, smiling as Barclay’s legs begin jerking and twitching with his impending orgasm.

“That’s much better.”

Barclay smiles, proud, swallows down a moan, and cums all over Sterns waistcoat.

“Messy boy.” Stern wipes himself off, then covers Barclay’s mouth with a cum-streaked hand, “clean it up.”

He obeys, ambivalent to the bitterness of his own spend and elated by the taste of Sterns skin on his tongue. When he’s done the human ruffles his hair with his other hand, smiling down at him.

“I’ll be right back.” Stern leaves his view and Barclay only just keeps himself from whining at his absence. The agent returns with a case which, when opened, reveals a vibrator.

“I’m not hysterical, sir.”

“Not yet.” Rather than hold it himself, Stern straps the device so it rests against Barclays cock and switches it on.

“AHFUCK, sir, it’s, how many times-” His cock, which was soft only a moment ago, perks back up even as the nerves in it scream for it to stop.

“As many as it takes to complete my study. Let’s see.” The human turns Barclays face this way and that, frowns, and digs his finger and thumb into his jaw to keep his mouth open as he moans, “subjects fangs are now fully out and he” Stern snickers as Barclay’s beard tickles his wrists, the vampire licking and nuzzling at his inner arm, “he’s increasingly submissive and blood focused.”

“N-no, I’m you focused sir, want you, be so good for youAHannn” he cums, cuffs clanking on the table as he arches off it. Stern drags a chair over, sitting near Barclay’s head and leaning with his elbows on the desk to watch as his cock continues leaking and shuddering under the onslaught of sensations.

Barclay recalls a myth, Greek he thinks, where a man is punished in the afterlife with intense hunger and thirst. He doesn’t remember why it happens, he tends to skim tragic stories. The part that stuck with him was the man being trapped with food and water just out of reach. With Joseph so close and Barclay so aroused and hungry, he can see the veins in his neck, can almost crane his neck to reach them.

Then he cums a third time and his vision whites out, taking away the temptation for a few moments of mercy. His brain gives up on coherent thoughts after that, and all he can do is moan and sob as Stern forces two more orgasms out of him. His feet and legs go from kicking and thrashing to laying so limp he’s not sure he’ll be able to walk when they’re through.

“I think I have what you need.” Stern shuts off the vibrator, removing bringing a water basin and pitcher over to the vampire. He dips a handkerchief into the warm water, guiding it along Barclays forehead, “you’re doing well, Barclay. I’m so proud.”

“Thank you sir.

“I have one more test to run, okay?” His voice is so gentle, his touch so soothing, and Barclay would do anything for him like this, all he wants is to serve him, to make him happy so he’ll keep looking at him like he’s something precious instead of dangerous.

The agent checks the dictaphone, clears his throat, “Final test: role of discomfort in the arousal-bloodlust dynamic.”

Barclay swallows, so turned on he couldn’t be scared if he tried. The agent pulls a loose page from the notebook, mischief in his eyes and menace on his fingertips. Only Stern could make the snap of a freshly inked piece of paper erotic, and Barclay adores him for it.

“I will now have the subject read a passage and record my observations.”

Letters fill his view and it takes his eyes a second to focus on them. His tongue, likely out of self-preservation, fights to stay behind his teeth.

“We don’t have all night, Barclay.”

The vampire takes a deep breath, “O God, accept me in penitence. O God, l- leave me not. O Lord, lead me not into temptation” his tongue flinches even as his chest burns with pleasure “O God, grant me good thoughts. O God, grant me humility and obedience.”

“I’d say you’re doing well on that front already,” Stern murmurs, saying more clearly, “the subject responds positively to pain associated with holy words, and looks increasingly thirsty.” He gives Barclay a pointed look, “subject should continue if he wants his reward.”

“O Lord, grant me patience, courage and meekness. O God, grant me to love Thee with all my mind and soul.” Tears run down his cheeks; the pain is right on the edge of what he can take, and even in his submissive haze he’s certain this alone is deserving of a reward, “Sir, please, please, I’ve been so good, please say you’re satisfied so I can, I can-”

Stern sets the paper aside, “can what? Specificity is important, Barclay.”

A dozen types of hunger well up in his throat as he whimpers, “please say I can taste you.”

An indulgent smile, “Of course. Give me a second to prepare.”

The vampire closes his eyes, breathes as slowly as he can manage as his tongue ceases tingling. There’s a scuff and thud of Stern touching the desk, and Barclay assumes he’s being freed until warmth straddles his chest and a shadow blocks the lamplight from his face.

“Ohfuck.” He opens his eyes, finds Stern--naked from the waist down--bracketing his ears with his knees.

“Is this the taste you wanted?” Stern guides his head up and Barclay eagerly kisses his cock.

“N-no I wanted to feed but, but this is so, so perfect sir.”

“You think you deserve to feed from me?”

Barclay nods, too busy teasing his tongue along his folds to respond further. The hunter is wet, and the thought of him soaking his tailored trousers just by watching Barclay cum is almost as heady as the scent of the blood beneath his skin.

“Well, I think this is what you deserve, for being so careless as to attack me, and for having to rely on my hospitality to survive.”

“Uhhummm” Barclay closes his lips around his cock and Stern moans, a sound Barclay would gladly swallow holy water to hear again.

“Nnn, oh lord, that’s it, you’re doing so well big guy.”

He purrs at the praise, mouth watering as Stern’s body sends more blood south. The skins so sensitive here, so thin, he can practically taste iron through it. He grazes his teeth along Sterns thigh, hoping for the smallest of scrapes, yelps when the agent pulls his hair hard enough to slam his head back against the desk.

“If you bite without permission, I will leave you here, like this, with that vibrator strapped to your cock, until the morning.”

Barclay whimpers, licks plaintively at his cock to show he’s sorry. Stern’s voice softens, “That’s better. I know it’s hard to restrain yourself, but you--oh lord--you must. I hate having to discipline you my sweet boy, I’d much, much rather-” his hips gain speed, smearing slick across Barclays mouth, “fuck, I’d rather spoil you and then do whatever I want to this perfect body, oh, ohlord, ohyes.” He tenses, gasping, and Barclay wishes his hands were free so he could hold him, keep him safe and steady while he takes his pleasure.

The hunter eases off of him, undoes the cuffs and helps him upright. They move on equally shaky legs to the settee, the human undoing the top buttons of his shirt once they do.

“Barclay…”

“Yes, sir?” He grips the edge of the cushions to keep from pinning the agent to their deep blue surface.

“You can have your reward now.” Stern tips his head sideways, revealing a welcoming patch of throat. Barclay growls, lunges forward as Stern makes no attempt to stop him. His teeth pierce willing skin and hot, sinfully delicious blood flows across his tongue. Stern goes rigid in his arms, voice cracking in a moan. Then he relaxes, clinging to Barclays shoulders as the vampire pushes him down, licking and sucking and smearing crimson kisses across his neck.

Nothing in the world compares to fresh blood, freely offered, swallowed down while the most handsome man you’ve ever seen lets out softer and softer moans of ecstasy.

Two taps register on his shoulder and he pulls away, lapping at the wounds so they’ll stop bleeding and be protected from infection. Joseph groans, gingerly shaking his head to clear it.

“You feeling okay, big guy?”

“Y’know how pythons will eat a cow once a month and then sleep for days? That sounds really fucking good right about now.” Barclay knows some vampires feel energized after feeding, but for him it’s always followed by the need for a nap.

“Let’s go upstairs first, the bed is better than the couch for that. Last time I fell asleep here my back hurt the whole next day.”

“Someone feeling being in his thirties?”

“Barclay, you’re three hundred.”

“And I don’t feel a day over two hundred and fifty.” He smiles as Joseph chuckles and kisses his cheek.

They make it up the stairs, Barclay easing his way under the covers and trying not to let them touch his sore cock. Joseph brings two water glasses and a damp cloth. Barclay uses the latter to clean the last traces of blood from his skin, patching over the punctures with the bandages they keep in the bedside table.

“Fun as it is to pretend to be your, like, pet vampire, I really glad you decided you just needed a roommate after I was stupid enough to attack you.”

Joseph polishes off his water, “You were starving, not stupid. Most vampires who go after humans are. It did put a damper on my plans to proposition you in the club kitchen the next night, but it worked out in the end.”

“They did warn me the clientele might try to bribe me into earning a few extra pounds with uh, ‘special services.’”

“A few pounds is barely a fair price for a kiss from you.” The human kisses him, somehow more sincere and loving than the equally tender kiss he gave him before leaving for work. Then he rubs his leg through the blankets, “do you want some tea? Indrid dropped off a new one he found while traveling with Duck, and it smells amazing.”

“Sounds great, blue eyes.”

“I’ll go make a pot of it while you rest; you did so well tonight I’m inclined to spoil all weekend.”

“No complaints here. You take such good care of me, Joseph.”

“You deserve it, big guy. Don’t go anywhere.” He kisses his brow and leaves the bed, whirling on his dressing gown as he goes towards the stairs.

Barclay watches him with all the love his unbeaten heart can muster and murmurs, “I won’t. Not when everything I need is right here.”

#sternclay #agent stern/barclay #vampire au #victorian au #reader requests #TAZ amnesty

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blankdblank · 3 years

Text

Brother Dearest Pt 72

On the other end of the line in the middle of the night in London the receiver to the ringing phone was lifted and raised to the ear of the exhausted aid in charge of answering said phone to take messages to hand over to the King in the Palace that came in on his nightly shift. After the usual introduction statement he asked, “How might I be of service?”

Eddie on the line from his early rise from bed at the drop of the ferocity of the storm enabling the first chance to call out stated, “Hi, this is Eddie Pear. I wanted to call you guys for my Sister Bunny.”

The aid’s lips parted and he readied the pen on the table in his hand to hover over the pad he brought closer, “Yes, was there something the Baroness was requiring aid with?”

“Not aid no, we were told by King George to let him know about the babies, well after two days of labor Bunny gave birth to three girls just before midnight. All healthy and seven and a half pounds. The Doc said to keep her in bed for a couple weeks to recover or she would have called herself.”

As he wrote the details he asked, “Is the Baroness recovering from a particularly debilitating injury from the birth?”

“No, just some bruising mostly and she didn’t get much sleep at all. We know the King is a busy man and it’s early over there but we just wanted to start letting people know now that the phone’s working again from the storm as it’s losing power.”

“Thank you, Mr Pear, The King will be informed when he awakens. And please know that even until the King knows that from all of our staff her in the Palace the Baron, Baroness and their daughters in our thoughts and prayers.”

“Thank you, same to you all.” Goodbyes were traded and Eddie hung up to smile and make the call back home to Brooklyn. Sharing the news that by nightfall would explode through the town. And even farther with his next call into the Bugle to give them the scoop for the morning paper to follow with a picture promised when his sister would be up and in the mood to pose for one.

You didn’t know pain like this, even from after that explosion you endured back in the war. Not just any pain but a lingering rigidity deep down to your very bones that in James’ ease out of bed to tend to the fire and fetch some food to answer the growl from your belly that had woken him while you wavered between sleep and the conscious world. Warmly his lips had pressed to your forehead and before he could leave the bed Victor had eased across the room and on the bed behind you and he asked in a low concerned rumble, “Would you be up for a backrub?” Unable to roll or move your head gave a slight nod and he smirked in a reach for the covers he eased back to gently lay his hand on top of your back. “I’ll start on your back, let me know if I press too hard.”

Nice and smooth his hand began to move to try and ease the evident stiffness in your body. At ease in the lack of the iron leeching as your other bruises during the pregnancy lacked that effect on them. “You are phenomenal, Pipsqueak.”

“I didn’t do much,” you whispered back.

“Those babies beg to differ. Two days, just pain,” at that he leaned over your side at the scrunch of your face and burrow of your face into the pillow with a teary sniffle. “Pipsqueak,” he said in the plant of his second hand on your back. “You did so very much more than you give yourself credit. All we did was hold your girls you created when they gave the sign they were ready.”

“I didn’t even push,” you squeaked out in a try to wipe your cheek on your pillow to calm yourself. “And it was over, and I passed out.”

“I would have passed out too. All of us would have. Three babies after all that pain so sudden. I’ve had teeth yanked and I wanted to pass out after, the girls were safe inside you for so long and then suddenly they’re out and crying.”

“They cried?” you asked in a concerning squeak and he leaned over your side at the turn of your head to glance back at him to nod with a proud smile.

“They did. Nice and loud. Right away no pinch or anything.”

“It was like I was in a tunnel. How it always is, before I drop. Just, felt pressure, then the tunnel and bloody towels and I was out.” You paused and said, “I hoped I wouldn’t pass out.”

“Eddie mentioned that. James should have a breakfast ready for you here in a bit and Herc should be in to check on you not long after. Girls are still asleep. Nice and steady didn’t make a peep for us to sleep last night.”

“We’ll need to take a picture soon.”

“No pictures until you feel up to it. And you’ll have to fight me on that.”

“I should-,”

“Stay exactly where you are. Your body is bruised and you need your rest. We will bring the girls in later to try and feed them again, just a bit of milk and they were right off to bed.”

“Kitty,”

“If I beat someone into the ground for two days they would need time to rest. You carried them for 48 weeks, fed and protected them, let us carry and change them for two. We did the same for Dawn and for Norma, now don’t you force me to have you tied down.”

A gentle claim of your hand came with firm presses and squeezes across the stiff hand and arm attached up to the shoulder his hands circled to give a mild squeeze and rotate your shoulder. And in a guided slow lean onto your back as your legs still locked in bent position rested against his side.

Over the top of your foot he pressed and all over his fingers and palms worked to try and ease strain in the bruised sole of your foot. The ankle came next with rotations when it was loose. Lower leg, then the knee were followed by a steady work up your thigh he warned of inch higher to your hip. “Just going to press my palm and not squeeze,” he hummed to the feel of a wish to pull your leg back if you could from the pain the kneed of his fingers that triggered searing pain up and down your legs and into your hips to ricochet through your back.

“Better?” he asked and you nodded urging him up a bit more in timid slides the closer he got to what he imagined to be the most painful spots near to your hips and groin. On the side of your hip his hand settled and to hushed guidance while you grimaced and bit back whimpers through the difficult stretch and rotations. “Very good.”

“I can’t even straighten my leg,” you panted out in a cracked voice trying not to cry at how little control you had over your body. The next leg came next when he saw that it was as good as he was due to get out of your stiff joints.

“You are doing magnificent. Have you back to limber again in no time. Maybe a bath later will help.”

And by the time he managed to stretch your second leg James came into the room with the wheeled cart coated in a hefty spread of food that even in his lingering exhaustion he took as a sort of celebration that in some small way you showed hints of being mobile to some extent after such a battle. “Tons of food to get you back to peachy.”

“Up you get, Pipsqueak,” Victor hummed in a hug around your torso gliding you a few inches up against the pillows.

James smiled as he finished settling the ridiculous amount of food on pop up trays around you and hummed, “Our girls are still sleeping soundly under your parents’ watch.”

“Herc said they’re healthy?”

“Oh yes, he’s going to head to Alberta to turn in the birth documents. Ran into Eddie on his own check he shared he called the Palace for us. Should be on the radio when the King releases the news. Hours after Brooklyn will know of course, he called the Bugle.”

“They’re going to want a picture.”

Victor tapped you on the nose, “No pictures.”

James said, “Pictures can wait.”

Like they said Herc did come in when you had finished off the entire spread that surprisingly did little to relieve the exhaustion and near empty feeling that only heightened your nerves on the recovery to come. Worries of what you could do to help with mothering your girls he caught onto and in his full body check gave a good prognosis for this first morning post birth. And he gave you the once over of the latest scans and blood panel he had taken and at your anxious glance at your chest to an odd feeling he said, “We could try the breast pump for you now if you wanted to? I’m not fairly certain what it feels to be ready to feed however your circulation has increased to your mammary glands.”

“Is that what that feeling is?” you murmured. And from a second bag he brought out a small pump he showed you how to turn it on and ease the cups into place. The brothers paid special attention in the process of bottles he attached to the tubes that with a flick of a switch showed the path of the milk that filled four bottles that he helped Victor to add nipples to. As if on cue your parents arrived with the freshly stirred trio who were fed by your parents and James to the final check of a brain scan to check hormones and synapses for the status on their recovery. The rest of the adults of your family had joined the chance to catch you conscious after being warned sleep would take up a large chunk of your days to come. Before you could help it however your eyes drooped to Edie’s try to fix your braid and she sat humming to you for her turn to sit with you for a break until you fell asleep again for another nap.

Two days you seemed to slip in and out of sleep to find yourself in another man’s arms from your family to issue words of comfort while each pass off of the girls who had been fed by bottles you filled and random bouts when you would try breast feeding again naturally for smaller snacks in between larger milking collections. Every time you handed them over the lack of ability to get up or sit up on your own brought on tears again in the small breaks when you were alone to mull over the failure at mothering you were growing to be.

Another shared statement that the girls were adjusting to a clear schedule had you waking to dried tears across your nose and cheeks that your husband was using a damp cloth to wipe away. “Brought you some visitors.” When he eased back to set the cloth down a grin eased across your lips and he helped you scoot to the trio of babies like upside down turtles who had their arms and legs tucked up showing the gloves and socks that matched their dresses in their assigned shades.

“Hey,” your voice was followed by three coos and on the pile of pillows James stacked for you from his arms in a loving scoop for the move your side rested. And you got a good view of the trio who reached up to grab at your face. “You know me, don’t you?” Again they cooed and let out happy squeaks between your gentle pecks on their cheeks, noses and covered hands. “Breaking out the mittens early?”

“They have silver nails,” that turned your head to catch his gaze, “Just for a week according to Herc. Vic was impressed Belinda gave him a slice on the nose when he woke her. They have been taking to the mittens though.”

You nodded and leaned in to press your nose to Nova’s foot, “I know this foot, you’re the one who liked to kick my bladder.” Making James smile and Eddie in his creep into the room lift the camera he’d brought to snap a picture of this moment.

“And you, you like to push on my ribs,” you said to Belinda.

Eddie chuckled and said, “Nice to see you aren’t holding grudges.”

You smirked and asked, “Why would I? They didn’t do it maliciously, and they know they’re grounded for years already.”

“Vic refilled the film and is printing the one before this.” Eddie said as he sat down on the bed.

“Won’t you need it for, Teddy’s birthday party?” and you sighed realizing it as you said it, “I’m gonna miss his party.”

Eddie chuckled and said, “No you won’t. Sarah’s gonna stay in here with you and the babies and then Teddy is going to bring you your slice and get his birthday hug.” Eddie leaned in to kiss your forehead and said, “He knows you are tired. Even stole a peek at the girls yesterday and he knows when the drizzle clears you’ll be able to go out and play when you feel better.” You nodded and he said, “You aren’t missing his party, he just gets a special moment with you all on his own. All the more special for him. And when you aren’t so tired you can have coloring sessions in bed and maybe a story time or two between naps.”

James, “Herc says you are healing well, and you are taking as much time as you need.” The wriggling girls demanded your attention again as Norma and Dawn came in for their own visits. Erik and Edie were next with Victor to follow while the photos hung to dry in the dark room.

Everyone being there had you grin and hand over the camera to Herc at his offer to see you seated back up against the pillows to hold two of your girls, halfway against James’ chest while he held the other. One photo with just you was taken with care to hide the obviously vanished belly under the girls and thick covers. Followed by another with everyone settled on the bed around you including Marigold, Leanora and Teddy who were nestled around you both with smiles all their own in this moment captured before the planned party for Teddy would take all but your mother away.

Again the girls were laid beside you to let you lounge on your side as the four of you let out an adorable ripple of yawns proving to the others that even outside of your belly the link still held strong as Herc warned to allow mothers to get ample rest after birth as well as newborns. “Now you get some more rest, and I will wake you when Teddy comes back with some cake for you.” Sarah said lifting the covers she nestled around your settling body to the close of your eyes. Smiling widely to savor these moments with her daughter and granddaughters even while they slept.

Soon to be joined by your father until the pre-scheduled time for cake, when the little boy would accept help up and smile as his dad handed you and him slices of cake that he would eat and giggle through sharing on his new family present and art supplies.

“You can play soon?” he asked with an almost pout, “Mommy said you’re sleepy.”

That had you grin at him and say, “I will try my hardest to get out of bed to play as soon as I can. I’m just a bit sore still. Herc said to stay in bed for a couple weeks.”

“Herc is a Doctor,” he said and you nodded making your mother smile at the both of you along with Eddie who had been stealing more pictures of you all together by means of Venom being stretched out as far as he could reach.

“Yes he is.”

“Then you stay, till he says so.” He said with an authoritative furrow of his brows.

“I will. The sooner I get better the sooner I can play with you again. And now the girls are out of my belly I can run again, and swim, and so many other things,” you said with a smile widening his into a small fit of excited giggles on more playtimes to come. Warm and quick he leaned in for a hug and peck on your cheek before he hurried to be let down to find his uncle Victor who promised to build castles with him. “Have fun,” you said to Eddie in his chuckling path to join the others while leaving your camera behind.

Back down you laid on your back in a scoot lower and turned your head to look at the girls still asleep who flexed their feet to your gentle finger taps to the soles of them.

Again you nursed the little you could get the girls to suckle naturally and she left to dispose of the used diapers you helped her to change. “Enjoy your cake, Darling?” James asked in his trip across the floor to the bed smiling wider with every step closer to you and the girls.

“Hey handsome, I did. You enjoy yours?”

He nodded and said, “Got the call from the lawyer and he’s driving out next week to update our wills.”

“It is a bit ridiculous.” You teased.

And he responded in a playful chuckle, “But necessary. In case we need to fake our death or something.”

You sighed and in his place seated in front of you he smirked at the guiding tug on his shirt to turn and lay back. When your hands eased around your oldest girl to scoop her up he grinned and undid his shirt and shrugged out of his suspenders to avoid laying her on buttons that could hurt her. From her back to her belly she was rolled over and laid carefully on top of his chest where her curled hands in the mittens tucked under her chin. “Aww, all those wrinkles. So serious in her sleep.” Making your mother in her return giggle with you as he rested his hand on her bottom to keep her from rolling in his breaths.

With hold of the camera you floated over you angled yourself to take the picture that soon had you trading out that girl for the second and then third who were then eased back to their prior napping spots with sweet kisses from both of their parents. “Even picking them up I feel tired, and I just took a nap.”

James hummed, “You need more than cake,”

“Exactly,” your father said in his entrance to your room with another cart of food. Let’s get you up and eating, and I have some bottles for our girls and you can try to pump some more milk after.”

“I take it this is part of the schedule now?” you asked with a hint of a smirk.

“You will get used to it.” He replied.

“Let’s just hope that I get accustomed to it and on my feet by the time the tutors arrive.”

“Oh you will,” James hummed, “You have all of us here for you. Called into town too, no sign of any package for you yet for your class work.”

Firm and steady up your thigh Victor’s palm worked in timed presses and he hummed through your try at a quiet sniffle, “Feels softer than yesterday. Up another inch, just let me know when you want me to stop.” He kept saying this in these daily massages as he worked down from your ribs or up closer to your groin. Always making certain that even at your weakest point he was toeing the line of respectful contact while ensuring that while he did all he could to work out this stiffness from your bruised body you were in control. A simple grip of your leg was next and with it came the worst part for you, stretches and rotations of the stiff hip joints and thighs he had just worked out. Followed again in a grip on both hips to work up and over the silver toned belly next.

“People aren’t going to believe I had triplets looking all muscular like this. I haven’t been this small since the war.”

“We’ll plump you up again, and at the worst we could say we got you back on the military regimen to get back to shape. With how we look it wouldn’t be unbelievable. ‘You could bounce a coin of that brother of yours’, direct quote we’ve heard back in Brooklyn.” That had you let out a weak chuckle. “Plus, six babies around the place hard not to stay in shape.”

“I’ve never felt like this before. Even when I was little, almost empty.”

“You’ll come back to yourself. You have a peachy patch around your belly button now. A good sign.”

“Is it the one spot that is a good sign or the fact it’s my belly button?” You asked in a tone trying to sound playful as you bit back a wince in a painful rotation of your hip.

That had him chuckle and from the doorway Herc gave a gentle knock on the door and crossed to the bed to do his daily check up on you and said with a smile, “The belly button is always a good sign. Your blood levels are evening out. The milking schedule and hearty meals are doing you good. As are these daily routines. On my way to scan the girls again, all healthy as horses and adjusting well. They are due for a feeding which produces the best results, get a full view of the digestive system in action.”

“That’s good.” You said and watched while he explained the rest of the results to the exam to you then made his way out to check on the girls as promised.

Again you wiped your cheek on your shoulder and Victor sighed and stretched out beside you to ease you into his arms with a kiss on your brow. “As much time as you need. Every parent has their times they feel they could do more when they physically couldn’t. You need time to recover. We are all so proud of you. Out of all the years ahead of the girls two weeks isn’t very long at all.”

“But it’s the first two weeks.” You murmured back and he brought you closer to his chest.

“They sleep mostly when we have them. You get to watch them wriggle around, open and show off those silvery lilac eyes of theirs. And since you wanted the picture done I printed spare pictures of you, Jimmy and the girls for the papers. It’s already been on the radio and we’ve gotten calls from just about everyone. Even Peggy, quite a quick call she was on the way to some sleuthing gig she wasn’t invited to.” And playfully he added, “Did mention something about a picture with Daniel after.” You let out another weak giggle and he said, “Even in letters your work has been skillful.”

“I didn’t do much of anything. He was halfway gone when she walked in our home after Venom snatched him. I bet the birds were lovely today.”

Again he chuckled, “Still raining. Not very many birds. They’ll come back in swarms when the rains stop, luring all the worms up.”

“So you just rest up and when you get back on your feet we’ll have a huge lusciously green bird filled garden for you to chase Teddy around in.”

Asleep again once your daily five hours of collected conscious time had been met his eyes shut as he nestled you more into his chest. Norma had been prepping more and memorizing her new script from Howard and so when it was time for his Petal’s naps he would come and rest with her here. Always he worried about his beloved baby sister who seemed so impossibly unmatched now brought to a point where it took the whole family to even get you to eat or move or even to be bathed and changed with only promises of a Doctor from another planet who gave them hope you were in fact improving. Even Venom had taken to his own turn to pace through the night as your parents did in silence to not disturb you or James.

James in his entrance said to the clear sound of your slumbering breaths, “When Herc said the first birth would be a hard one I have to admit I didn’t expect this.”

Victor said to another stroke of his crossed arms over your back, “No, but our Pipsqueak is pulling through. Looking forward to the birds when the rains stop.”

James walked around the bed to sit in his view and be able to stroke your legs, “I keep wanting to cry when I see the girls. They’re so big, I just don’t understand how it could take two days. I have never seen a labor that long or hard.”

Victor said, “Our girl’ll bounce back. Be bounding about in no time.” Lowly he added more in a sort of plea, “She has to.”

They couldn’t do this alone, not if you were gone, even if you could come back like your parents in some span of years. They couldn’t wait, not a single minute, even with Dawn and Norma here they couldn’t wait and raise your girls without you. Not after you had lost everyone and everything you had planned for yourself, even your name. You just wanted to be free from being a weapon, free from being seen by the world knowing just how they would use you.

But now the King knew and had made plans of his own, something Truman now had followed suit by naming you as still active duty. They could die, and die, and die and always come back but no one could protect your babies like you could and if they lost you there was no oath in the world strong enough to keep them able of fighting off the world who would want the powers your babies might inherit. It is so different now from their first families they chose, the world wasn’t so ignorant as it was then. Even a new identity would be hard if needed, the world knew their faces and names. Just one more chance to fight in a war they believed in and now there was no escape. Not for any of you.

Elliot settled beside you after another bout of pumping and a nap interrupted bout of coloring with Teddy smiled as you managed to prop yourself up against your pile of pillows smiled as he unwrapped the box that arrived this morning, “You have received your first lessons.” His smile spread as he across the pop up table top he settled over your lap the Twins brought in got to taking turns as your Professor in each lesson and watched you fill out the assignment sheets and write the small required essays to finish out the full box as best you could each day for the rest of the week.

Screams, wails, shrieks in the near blinding void a sea of glowing half physical half something else beings who were seen in temporal pulses of misty primary colored orbs similar to pinecones, seeds and acorns who then flinched to other forms of aquatic beings in silver or white mists depending on their moods. Now in the grey nesting doll shaped forms to show their fear they cowered away from the dark figures of the First Mortals who had come after them. Cries for help appeared to go unanswered as the glowing plant life in the endless chasm of a void they dwelled in began to tuck inwards to protect themselves as the intruders neared their keep.

And all at once as the whites of the first invader’s eyes fell upon the cowering creatures of Time a galaxy colored mist exploded from nowhere between the two. Inside of which were spotted a pair of silver eyes of a creature who gave a clear warning enforced by a funnel of energy that shot up from around it then in a mushroom cloud cast the invaders out back to their original lands that collapsed to ruin as punishment. The cloud dispersed and behind their savior Time crept closer reverting to their peaceful colorful forms and to the turn of her head they named her in the fade of her essence away to where else she was needed.

“Mother.” The name echoed from countless mouths over the ages and in a sudden snap of your eyes open from the odd memory of a dream and in bed you found yourself alone. Well not entirely alone. Above James’ empty pillow hovered a peacefully floating bright yellow acorn that had you sit up before you could realize it and in an echo of a giggle was gone. Up a bit more you sat and turned your head to find dozens more seed or fish shaped glowing creatures who vanished in the same glad responses to your eye contact with hundreds more who flickered in and out to do the same.

Down from the far wall when their parade of gleeful congratulations your eyes sank to your hands coated in a silvery blue glittering mist that in a brush of the covers lower you watched it sink into your skin now free from silver patches or the weight that had been holding you in your bed. And with a spreading grin on top of your mattress you stood to walk across it on the way to your closet to get dressed.

‘And as we have reported the Palace has released an official portrait of the three newborns and their parents the Baron and Baroness Howlett. The photograph has been distributed to be published in print, along with which we can now with clearance share the names of the stunning triplets, The Honorable Aurora Nyx Pear Howlett, The Honorable Belinda Rhea Pear Howlett, and The Honorable Nova Carina Pear Howlett. All said to be the mirror image of their mother Baroness Bunny, with silvery lilac eyes and their grandmother Sarah’s blonde hair. No doubt well deserving to be named after celestial bodies to grow into great beauties with unseen strength like their parents.

Very much unlike other triplets with watch of a specialist to see to her health after a daunting two days of labor following an unheard of full nine month term inside the womb. Through what our Brothers and Sisters upon Canadian soil have dubbed the electromagnetic storm of the decade. Coincidentally we have learned was much like the one the Baroness was born in that brought havoc to New York for the few weeks surrounding her birth, the girls who were born at a stunning seven and a half pounds are all confirmed to be in good health as is their rightfully resting mother. And after such an ordeal even with word from King George himself of updates given by family members I know I am not alone in saying until Baroness Bunny does appear publicly again fully recovered she will be in our thoughts and prayers.’

The radio message played again as it had hours prior as news had been sent of public filing of the birth records of the babies had been alerted to the press. Brooklyn to their own copy shared the image elatedly while only a few papers stuck it out choosing to not jump to granting congratulations just yet even with Truman and the King sending off the news. Fully sharing the odd repeated phenomenon of these storms and what the reason behind them could have been and what poor luck it proved you held with it happening not once to you but twice. And ignoring the shift of the station’s focus to talks of possible first play dates when the Princess was next to give birth and after what her friend had pulled through she was sure to have an easy birth herself to give the King his first grandchild James gathered the breakfast he made to bring in to you.

“Jaqi?” The bed when he came in the room was empty and his head turned to the open bathroom door as he pushed the cart in more.

“Hey handsome,” he heard from the doorway of the closet and turned his head to spot you in the doorway dressed in white high waisted shorts and a flowing sleeveless floral blouse that had his grin widen to the sight of you dropping your ponytail down your back. “I had another weird dream,” you said crossing the room to your husband who elatedly wrapped you in his arms, holding you in your toe top stance for the kiss you lured him into. “I can hug you again now,” you said against his lips making him chuckle and lean in to claim another kiss as your arms eased up around the back of his neck.

“Let’s feed you,” he said in a lift of you in his arms that made you giggle in his walk to carry you to the sitting area where he settled you and arranged the food on the table between you.

Hugs from your parents came in the following trip to the nursery where they made certain to let you know things were being kept in the places where you had first put them. And everyone else in the group breakfast lit up seeing you on your feet, especially Teddy. Who when you stepped around the baby carriage holding your napping freshly fed girls raced over to be lifted in your arms for a tight hug you used to carry him to his seat that he giggled to at your kisses you peppered across his cheeks. Eddie was right there when you set Teddy in his chair to wrap you up in a tight hug. Starting the ripple around the table that you sat down at in your usual seats beside James, who kept easing the carriage back and forth between glances their way and strokes of his thumb across the hand of yours he kept hold of. With a smile he held to the spare piece of toast you snacked on that Victor buttered and offered to you.

“Go play,” your dad said. And with a spreading smile as he took hold of the baby carriage after you’d put away the fresh milk you’d just pumped.

And like a bunch of kids while Eddie and Dawn were off with Marigold James, you, Victor and Erik were off to explore the garden and surrounding land with Teddy in tow for an exciting chance to play with his aunt. Hours until Teddy had to go to take a nap you played then came in to help change and feed the girls again with a snack for you to follow before you were off again for an eager race through the woods.

Lunch came next with a pump of two bottles when you stopped to feed Nova naturally at her own impatience while James and your mother fed the other two to the sound of your father reading the first of a slew of letters that had arrived by official postage. All from several world leaders including another letter from the current Pope to add to your collection. Congratulations for the long awaited blessings you had safely delivered all somehow someday hoped to meet.

Pt 73

All –

@sherala007, @mariannetora, @jesgisborne, @knitastically, @catthefearless, @theincaprincess, ggbbhehe4455, @lilith15000, @alishlieb,

Not nsfw(smut) - @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore

X Marvel-Cast - @himoverflowers, @theincaprincess, @changlingkhat

Brother Dearest - @thorinanddwalinsdwarrowdam, @swoopswishsward

#James Howlett x OC #Victor Creed x Norma Jeane #Eddie Brock x OC #Teddy Brock #Erik and Edie Lehnsherr #Post Partum #Visit From Time

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springday-aus · 3 years

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SVT’s Jeonghan: Love, War and Everything Between || part one

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Fic Piece Written by: Admin Grandma of @springday-aus

Moodboard Link: Created by Admin Grandpa

Character Pairing: Y/N [fem. reader] and Seventeen’s Yoon Jeonghan

Other Characters: Nu’est’s Baekho [known as Dongho], Seventeen [Seungcheol and Jisoo, along with idiot squad!Soonyoung, Seokmin, and Seungkwan], and more to be added along the way!

Genre: historical, romance, drama, royal!au, arranged marriage!au + gender role reversal

None of this is even remotely historically accurate. This is all purely fiction!

Type: series

prologue || part 01 || part 02 || part 03 → to be available! check the progress on our upcoming page!

Word Count: approx. 2.6k

Plot Summary: Korea’s most distinguished military general arrives home, carrying back glory and honor from the war. However, the general has been revealed to be a woman! Due to the prominent military accomplishments you have made as the highest ranking general, by orders of the Empress, you are arranged to be married to the second-eldest prince, Yoon Jeonghan. Only one problem lies between you two: your reputation as a ruthless killing machine, which scares the living daylights out of your new husband.

→ Inspired by: the Chinese drama, Oh My General (also known as The General Above I Am Below)

Warnings: graphic violence, glorified war, murder, sexual harassment, sex discrimination (mainly against women), poly-relationships (i.e. concubines), political corruption, and homosexual tendencies

It had taken six months for the final battle to commence, and three full years of ruthless war, before they finally conceded. Needless to say, the new recruits were lucky to be under your jurisdiction. Had they not, the body count would have been much higher.

Your grip tightens on the rein of your horse, feeling the guilt and anguish wash over you once more of those who have fallen. While it is inevitable to lose soldiers in war, it doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt any less.

You take a small breath in, calming yourself once more and settling back into the reality.

The war had begun in the fall, whereas now, it is well into the summer season. You close your eyes, feeling the sun shine warmly on your skin. Taking another breath in, you open your eyes once more to take in the sights.

White butterflies dance over the grass, teasing flowers as they move along. The flowers are in full bloom; even the dirt path, which was once wet and muddy, has patches of grass that pop out from the cracks. While you have traveled to many areas, you were never able to take in the sights—well, at least, the less violent ones.

Ah, war. Politicians may declare war as much as they please, but they have yet to have seen how it destroys the average person—even a general as distinguished as yourself.

“General?”

“Yes,” you say. “What’s wrong, Dongho?”

You don’t look back at him, but you can hear his horse’s footsteps catch up to yours—slowing down to remain a couple of paces behind.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

You smile to yourself. “Rather sentimental.” You turn to him. “When was the last time we ever allowed ourselves to take in nature like this?”

His smile reflects yours. “I believe it was the last time we had been called to fulfill our duty.”

You click your tongue, with a disapproved shake of your head. “We need to go on these outings more often.”

“Well,” Dongho starts. “It’s hard to go on leisurely walks as one of the nation’s most notable figures.”

“And this is why you’re my second-in-command.” You let out another sigh, a bit longer than the previous one. “It’s hard to roam around with such a large target on your back.”

“In hindsight, you are very skilled in many areas. Whether it’s swordsmanship, archery, or taekkyon, only a suicidal fool would challenge you.”

“A suicidal fool, such as yourself?”

“Yes, General,” he says with a chuckle. “I’m a suicidal fool, who has yet to have learned his lesson.”

Dongho has been by your side for as long as you can remember. The two of you lived as neighbors, and evidently best friends, for ten years. When your father and brothers died, there was a brief separation period until you turned fourteen—in which you had met again, when you were starting your military training on request of your grandfather.

Since then, you two trained together, side-by-side in combat for the next twelve years. You rose the ranks together—you as the General and he as the military counselor.

You hear a groan from your left side. “Are we there yet?”

“Kim Jisoo,” you call. “You should know by now how long these journeys are.”

Your bodyguard playfully scowls at you. “Pardon me for being used to having company on these trips.”

From beside her, Namjoo, your other bodyguard, directs a punch to her sister’s arm. “You speak as if I’m dead.” She makes eye contact with you, before rolling her eyes at her sisters antics. “Father would be upset had he heard your inauspicious words.”

Lieutenant Kim worked alongside your father and you’re lucky enough to have him by yours as well. He’s like another family member—practically a close uncle, who is more than aware of your peculiar situation. Along with Lieutenant Kim came his two daughters, Jisoo and Namjoo.

Because he spent all of his time in the military, so did they. They learned as he taught and trained the other soldiers, including yourself and Dongho. Then, when the time came, you gave the both of them the bodyguard positions.

Of course there was protest, especially from their male counterparts who wanted their positions. While the Kims had a good laugh, there were also rumors that spread on your part—you had become known as a playboy, who became desperate for female attention while serving in the military.

Eventually, those rumors had been shut down, considering how your military contributions outweighed the gossip that spread due to envious soldiers. Your status easily overpowered theirs (lack thereof) and you dealt with them... accordingly.

(No one died, but it didn’t mean you didn’t cause some emotional trauma for them. You were nicknamed the Devil for a reason).

But, alas, this is also the root of your predicament.

“You aren’t the company I was referring to,” Jisoo says.

“If you’re referring to those pretty boys back at the capitol,” Namjoo says. “You might as well be the dead one.”

You chuckle at their banter. Jisoo is right (although you would never tell her): it would be nice to have a pretty boy by your side. But, with the current conditions, you know it would only be difficult for him.

Granted, this would be made a burdensome situation for you as well—the only difference being that you’re made of the tougher materials in life and will not hesitate to kill a man when crossed against.

Their banter fades into the background, with Dongho attempting to separate the two before the duo of sisters suddenly becomes solo.

You look up at the bright and clear sky once more, enjoying the moment of peace before the storm strikes.

It’s been about three days before you determined a stopping point, in order to set up camp for the evening. Your soldiers have been on rotation since then; you figure that they should get a well-needed break.

You smirk to yourself. The joke’s on them, considering how the lower ranks are the ones who actually set up: the tents, the cots, the fires.

The sun has already set for the day; the moon shines brightly and the stars twinkle against the evening sky. It’s truly the countryside; in the city, you don’t get sights like these. Too much pollution and such. It only means you and your soldiers still have a long road back to the capitol.

A long sigh escapes you as you stand outside your tent—naturally, with Namjoo on one side and Jisoo on the other.

“What’s wrong, General?” Namjoo asks.

Jisoo turns to you. “Is something bothering you?”

You let out another sigh. “It’s less of a bother and more of a concern.”

“What kinds of concerns?” Jisoo asks. “Could we be of any help to you?”

“Considering we are your protectors,” Namjoo adds with a pointed look.

“And your best friends,” Jisoo says.

“Female best friends.”

You crack a small smile—one that rarely showed during this period. “When do you think…” Your words trail off, trying to find the correct words. “When do you think this charade should be over and done with?”

Namjoo blinks wordlessly, not seeming to understand your question.

“What do you mean, General?” Jisoo asks. “Are you referring to…? Possibly…?”

“When can I fully become (Y/N) rather than just a general?”

“You’re not just a general,” Namjoo says. “You have risen up to become the General. The one who serves and protects your kingdom best.”

“It’s not that I’m dissatisfied with my accomplishments. I’m proud of them, but I would prefer them to be my own rather than the son of the (Y/L/N) family.” You laugh inwardly at your own words.

Son. What a joke.

You did what you’ve had to, but, what was the real cost? The countless men you have killed? The women and children who were left with no one to care for them in this patriarchal society?

What about your own life? What would life had been like, had your father and brothers not been killed? Would you have been married off to a family as well? Or would you still be in the military, serving with the other soldiers like now?

There’s a moment of silence and the two struggle to find their words—whereas you’re left again to your own thoughts.

It’s Jisoo who speaks first. “I want to tell you it would all be okay and things would remain the same.”

“But?”

“But it won’t.” She tilts her head up, the stars shimmering in her eyes. “Things will be hard and things will be difficult. And, whenever you make that decision, we’ll be right here by your side.”

Namjoo elbows you with a mischievous smile. “Just as we have always done. We pride yourselves as your protector.”

Your smile grows. “That’s a relief to hear.” You turn away from them, taking a step back to push back the fabric of your tent to take a step in. “It’s too late to back out anyways.”

“Too late for what, General?” Jisoo asks.

Your head turns to her and your smile doesn’t waver. “The letter has already been sent.”

“Your majesty,” the Vice Premier says. “What do you advise us to do now?”

The King sits at this throne, setting down the newly passed message from General (Y/L/N)—only to come in view with the court.

While he may not be downright angry, he is well aware of how the court may feel. He is also unsure of what will result in his best military general, especially since the war is not exactly over and done with—considering how King Wu may still hold resentments due to the aftermath.

He glances at the letter once again, feeling his head throb. Why did you have to choose now of all times?

Just moments ago, the second messenger from your troops arrived—announcing his arrival and reading the letter aloud for the rest of the court to hear. Upon the King’s request, he had left the letter to the King, still in shock with the present state of affairs.

General (Y/L/N) is a woman.

“Your majesty,” Official Chun says, stepping out from his spot.

“Accepted, proceed.”

“It is unacceptable for a woman to be of such a high position, nevertheless a man’s rightful position. I propose we remove and replace the General.”

Official Lee steps out. “Your majesty.”

“Accepted, proceed.”

“If I may remind some of us here that we are forever indebted to the General. We continue to be so, considering the current circumstances. While he—” He pauses, before correcting himself. “While she may be a woman, she is of the (Y/L/N) family. Not only have they been loyal to the throne, serving our country for many years, they have made many great sacrifices.”

“Your majesty,” Official Kwon says.

“Accepted, proceed.”

“Official Lee is correct. We cannot just remove the General.” He pauses, not before glancing at Official Chun and his followers. “The war might be over but we still have to be alert. Allowing her removal is the equivalent of death for our country.”

Sensing Chun’s anger from the indirect remarks, Official Mae steps out. “Your majesty.”

“Accepted, proceed.”

“General (Y/L/N) is a woman. A woman with too much power shall be the root our demise.” He glances at the other side, spotting those behind the Vice Premier. “She must be put into her place before she gets too ambitious.”

Official Song steps out. “Your majesty.”

“Accepted, proceed.”

“From what we are aware, the (Y/L/N) family does not have any male heirs. Considering the circumstances, we cannot afford to replace her when there are still repercussions of the war to be settled.”

“Your majesty,” Official Chun starts to say.

However, the King puts his hand up, pausing the conversation from continuing any further. He has already made his decision: you were to keep your position. Your accomplishments have stacked up, leaving the entire country indebted to you and your trained troops. Your reputation in the military is the most impressive—no one can be compared to you.

Although, it might be too unsettling for the officials for you to remain in your position. There must be some punishment—some kind of way to appease the court while you can still maintain your position, but not harsh enough for you to refute.

“General (Y/L/N) is to keep her position,” the King announces. He continues, shutting down any more possible verbal opposition. “Our country is indebted to the General. She has obtained previous territories that have been lost in previous battles and she has won countless wars, including the one we have just won. Replacing her would only lead to our doom and, even then, we have no suitable replacement.”

Official Jeong steps out. “Your majesty.”

“Accepted, proceed.”

“I believe that’s a wise decision, as expected from our King.” He swallows apprehensively. “However, we cannot leave her be. After all, she has deceived us—including you. What shall we do with her then?”

The officials murmur and whispers are passed around. Removal is too drastic for the King, therefore an execution is already off the table. No one seems to have any ideas of a possible punishment.

That is, anyone from the court.

While the officials scramble for an idea, the Empress’ eunuch, Eunuch Hak, shuffles himself from her side to the King’s throne.

There’s a hush that falls over the court officials.

“The Empress requests an audience,” Eunuch Hak whispers to the King.

“Accepted.”

From behind her golden curtain, the Empress lifts herself from her spot and gracefully walks towards the court. Her head is held high with elegance and her footsteps are light—almost as if she’s gliding. The officials bow their heads as she walks between them, no one daring to look up at her.

She stops in front of the throne, smiling as she looks up at the King.

“Mother,” he says. “How do you suppose we deal with this predicament?”

“I am proposing a marriage.”

The whispers start up again, unsure of what the Empress is trying to plan.

“Your highness,” Official Kwon says. “To whom do you think the General shall be married to?”

Her smile grows. “I believe that the second nephew is the most suitable candidate.”

“Second nephew?”

“She doesn’t mean—”

“The second prince?”

The King straightens in his seat, intrigued with the idea. “You are proposing a marriage between the most distinguished figure in Korea and Yoon Jeonghan?” He takes a small breath in, leaning back with a cocked eyebrow as he contemplates the idea.

Official Jeong speaks up once more. “Your highness, can you elaborate more as to how this is a suitable punishment?”

“If you ask me, it’s explanatory,” Official Chun mumbles under his breath.

Official Mae smirks at the comment, whispering back. “Prince Yoon is nothing more than a joke to the royal family.”

The Empress lets out a small sigh, proceeding to pretend as if she didn’t hear the rude comments about her grandson.

“It’s not about punishment.” she says. “It’s about balance.” Seeing the apprehensive look from the King, she continues. “Jeonghan is rather unorthodox. He spends much of his time dancing at the brothels and admiring artwork rather than martial arts or sports.”

There’s a murmur of agreement amongst the officials.

The Empress takes it as a sign to continue. “While he is a healthy man with three lovers, he is still uncommitted and unmarried. If the two were to be married, it can help solve the problems that are occurring for both parties.”

The King nods silently, but awaits for the court.

“Your majesty,” Official Kwon says.

“Accepted, proceed.”

“Her highness makes a good argument. I agree.” He thinks for a moment. “Not only would the General be married off to produce a male heir, but the rumors of Prince Yoon could also settle down once he’s married.”

“Your majesty,” Official Lee says.

“Accepted, proceed.”

“I agree with her highness and Official Kwon. This is more advantageous on our part,” he says. “I mean no offense when I say this, but Prince Yoon’s reputation is rather…” He pauses. “Unfavorable, at the moment. The General can help with that change and his with hers when the news spread in the villages.”

“Your majesty,” the Vice Premier says. “Shall we proceed with the marriage then?”

“Yes, we shall,” the King says with a nod. “From this day, we shall begin the wedding preparations. Once the General arrives back to the capital, Prince Yoon Jeonghan will become her husband.”

The Empress moves herself to the sidelines as the King stands up, causing the officials to stop in their spots and lower their heads once more. He steps down from his throne, starting his descent down the stairs and onto the path laid out for him.

The Vice Premier follows him from the right and his majesty’s eunuch, Eunuch Boo, follows him from the left—their conversation continuing in hushed tones.

The Empress leaves shortly after the King’s departure with Eunuch Hak on one side and Court Lady Nam on the other, leaving the officials with themselves.

“Court Lady Nam,” she says. “You shall inform Princess Consort Yoon.”

“Yes, your highness.”

She turns to her right. “Eunuch Hak.”

“Yes, your highness?”

“Begin the wedding preparations.”

A/N: As always, thanks for reading! Please don’t ask for updates. If you would like status updates, check out the upcoming post we have with upcoming works that will be posted!

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ghstandpucks · 4 years

Text

Cutting Edge ~ Nathan MacKinnon Ch. 4

Hey everyone! I hope you are all doing well and having a nice Friday! Thank you so much for all your kind, supportive words! I’m so glad you are liking this series! Disclaimer for this chapter: I’m sorry if you like Ashley Wagner as a figure skater. To be honest she bothers me which is why I picked her for a little conflict that may or may not happen during the season lol

Anyways, enjoy and let me know what you think! Also, let me know if you would like to be tagged in the upcoming chapters! Thanks!

Prologue Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3

“Nope. Try again,” you said as Andre tripped over his feet and missed the net. It was Monday morning at practice and you had just shown your group the three-turn move that Nate suggested you teach them. Andre groaned and looked over at you.

“What is the point of this?” he asked.

“The point is to be more fluid. You guys do this already, you just need to follow through with it and not be choppy,” you responded.

“Maybe we are choppy because we have to keep the puck with us,” Andre grumbled and tried again, still not entirely succeeding. To be fair, not many had been successful that morning.

“You guys just need to keep your momentum,” you tried to explain. They looked at you like you were crazy. You quickly skated over to the side and grabbed a stick, becoming exasperated that they seemed not to believe you that it would work. Taking one of the pucks, you quickly did the move and shot the puck straight into the net. You turned back to your group and laughed at their dumbstruck faces. Honestly, you were even shocked that you made, but you couldn’t show them that. “So that’s how you do it. Any questions?” They all shook their heads no. “Okay then, line up,” you said, deciding to keep the stick with you. Though it still seemed foreign to you, you felt more comfortable with it. As the group you had started to get it, you smiled and looked down the ice to find Nate already looking at you. He was at center ice in another group, and when you grabbed the hockey stick a few of the players and coaches stopped to see what you were doing. He didn’t bother to look away when you met his gaze, but instead nodded at you with an impressed face. You shrugged and laughed, turning your attention back to your group.

The groups rotated about 30 minutes later, and Nate skated right up to your side. “Look who’s becoming a hockey player,” he teased you quietly. You giggled and elbowed him.

“I told you it wasn’t that hard,” you said, adding “and you owe me two laps.” Nate looked at you unimpressed.

“Are you serious?” he asked.

“Can’t have people thinking I’m a pushover, right?” you laughed. Nate rolled his eyes, but smiled at you as he took off.

~ ~ ~

The following day you stayed after practice, seeing as the team had Wednesday off. You were in the middle of your billman spin when you caught the outline of a blurred figure every rotation you made. You finished the spin, letting go of your right leg and checking out. Glancing toward the side, you found Nate standing there. He smiled as you skated over to him, shifting his weight from one foot to another slightly. That’s when you realized he had his skates on. “Mind if I join you?” Nate asked. You shook your head and smiled up at him.

“You aren’t mad at me for making you skate laps?” you joked. He chuckled as he stepped out onto the ice.

“Completely. Those two laps were the worst thing I had to do yesterday,” he answered with a wink. You laughed and skated around the perimeter of the rink with him. The two of you spent about two more hours on the ice, talking and doing different things, but always ending up back next to each other. You sat next to Nate on a bench off the ice to take your skates off while continuing your conversation. “So how did you get into skating? In Canada hockey is huge. I can’t imagine it’s the same in Southern California,” Nate asked after he had told you how he started playing hockey, and you smiled.

“So I was actually a dancer when I was younger. My parents put me in ballet when I was about 2 in a half because I was that hyper child that needed something to do,” Nate chuckled at that. “Anyways, I had an older cousin who was taking skating lessons and had her like 10th birthday party at the rink. I was 4 and one of my other older cousins offered to skate with me. And I fell in love the second I stepped onto the ice. I asked my parents after the party if I could start skating and they signed me up for classes. And you should know as of last week with Z that I am a competitive, stubborn little shit of a person so I jumped at the idea of having a coach and competing. And I never looked back. The rink is my happy place, it’s where I feel most myself, and everything that has come along with it is just a perk,” You smiled, drying off your blades and putting your soakers on them.

“Oh yes, an Olympic gold medal is just a perk,” Nate dead panned, but you could see he had a smirk on his face.

“I mean I worked hard for it. But it never felt like work because I love to skate,” you replied simply. Nate smiled softly at you, and you thought you would never get used to the way it made your stomach flutter.

“That is beautiful Coach,” he teased you, and you knocked your shoulder into his arm. He laughed as you barely even moved him, more just bounced off of him. “I’m being serious Y/N. Obviously you are an amazing skater, and we are lucky to have you.” Nate said sincerely. You looked away as you started to blush.

“Well you aren’t so bad yourself mister,” you tried to joke back to cover up how much his words were actually affecting you. Nate chuckled and shook his head.

“I just try my best. Sometimes it doesn’t feel like enough, but I try,” he admitted.

“But that’s all you can do, try. And you have a whole team behind you to support you,” you said, feeling that he was just like you; extremely tough on himself. “Plus, from what I’ve seen you’re a pretty good skater,” you smiled as he met your eyes after putting his skates away.

“Only pretty good?” he teased, and you laughed.

“Well there’s always room for improvement,” you said, teasing him back. Nate let out a chuckle and followed you out of the rink, walking with you over to your jeep.

“So, we have tomorrow off…” Nate started, rubbing the back of his neck. You smiled and nodded, encouraging him to continue. Nate wanted to just ask you out, but he wasn’t positive where you stood. You were nice to him, but you were nice to everyone. He decided to go with what he had already offered before to be safe. “Do you still need to get a bookshelf?” As he asked, you couldn’t help as your smile became brighter at the thought of hanging out with him away from the rink again.

“I do actually. I was planning on doing that tomorrow,” you hoped you weren’t blushing too much, but Nate could see it and it only gave him more confidence.

“I can come over around noon. We could get some lunch then get your book case,” he suggested, trying to gauge your reaction. You smiled shyly, knowing your blush had to be evident at this point. Nate thought it looked adorable. Here you were, this Olympic gold medalist becoming shy when he was asking you to hang out.

“That would be great, as long as you don’t mind helping me,” you said. Nate beamed at you.

“Not at all.” You smiled back at him and said your goodbyes with the promise of seeing each other tomorrow. You drove home, nervous and excited for being able to hang out with him more one on one.

The next morning you woke up and busied yourself trying to clean up a bit. Not that you were messy, but you needed to move some boxes out of the way to make space for your book shelf. Getting dressed in some simple jeans and a black tank with a long, velvet deep yellow cardigan over it, you were just putting on your converse when Nate showed up at your door. You insisted on driving, sure that you would buy more than just a bookshelf and didn’t want to cram it all into his car. Nate directed you to a cute sandwich shop downtown for lunch, and the two of you talked the whole time about everything and anything. It felt so natural to be around him; the two of got along very well. Both of you being extremely competitive athletes, you also understood each other on a different level. Getting through lunch relatively unnoticed, Nate was amused when you were the one approached for a picture and not him. He couldn’t help but smile at the way you talked to the young girl and encouraged her to keep working on a jump she said she was having a problem with. After lunch, you and Nate went to Target and picked out a simple bookshelf. You also grabbed a few more things you could not leave the store without and Nate pushed the cart along, teasing you when you couldn’t pass up buying a few new books as well. Traveling from competition to competition always provided reading time, so you figured road trips with the team would provide the same.

Once back at your apartment Nate took over constructing the book shelf while you unloaded your boxes for it. The day carried on with playful banter and you could feel your crush growing even stronger. Nate was feeling the same. It was nice for him to be around someone who didn’t seem to care that he was a professional hockey player. He felt that he could really be himself around you. Between the laughing, lunch, shopping, and setting up, it was 7pm before you even knew it. “Do you want some pizza?” you asked him as you placed a candle on one of the shelves.

“Don’t tell my coaches,” he winked and you laughed.

“Never,” you said, asking him what a good pizza place to order from would be. “I’ll order a veggie one. That will make it a healthy meal.” Nate laughed and offered to pay, but you insisted being that he spent his whole day helping you, plus bought lunch. When the pizza arrived, you made your plates and sat at the table. “Do you ever miss being home with your family?” you asked after he told you all about them.

“I do yeah. I love them and being able to spend time with them. But I’ve made Denver my home also and this team is like family. I’m happy being here with them,” Nate answered sincerely.

“I think it’s really great you guys all have each other. I’ve never been much of a team player so I’ve never experienced that kind of bond,” you admitted.

“You have to have friends through skating though, right?” he asked.

“Yes and no,” you shrugged. Nate gave you a questioning look. “Girls are mean.” Nate broke out laughing. You laughed too and continued. “Once you get to a certain level, like you support one another but if someone your competing against falls you don’t feel bad. And I know that sounds horrible, but when there are only usually 3 spots on the Olympic team every four years, and the competitive span of a female figure skater is only like six years at senior level depending on how fast you learn, it’s a super competitive atmosphere. You tend to become better friends with people you won’t compete against. So like for me, my best friend is Jeremy Abbott. He’s kind of like an older brother to me. And I’m close to a few ice dancers. But any female single skater friend either tends to have gone through the ranks before you, or you start mentoring someone younger as they hop onto the circuit and you phase out. I think I’m better friends with girls I have competed against now that none of us are competing anymore. That’s just kind of how it goes,” you tried your best not to make it sound like you were a horrible person. Nate nodded thoughtfully, then grinned at you.

“Does this mean you have an arch enemy that we all have to look out for?” You couldn’t help but laugh at his question.

“Unfortunately, kind of. Playing the Stars should be interesting this year.”

“Playing the Stars is interesting every year,” Nate muttered. “Who is it?” he asked curiously.

“Don’t say anything ok. I have a reputation to uphold. I can’t be talking bad about another skater in this program,” you pleaded. “Plus the press already thinks we don’t like each other. I don’t need to be the one to add fire to that flame.”

“Yeah I’d rather not talk to the press so your secret is safe with me Y/N,” Nate said, leaning in closer as to convey confidence.

“Her name is Ashley Wagner. She was annoyed that in my first competition I bet her and knocked her off the podium completely. And every competition since I had beat her,” you explained and Nate nodded along. “Also, if you meet her, don’t let her fool you. She seems nice, but she’s not that great. She purposefully tripped me during warm ups once. That’s when all the rumors started flying around.” Nate looked at you surprised.

“You didn’t do anything back to her?”

“No,” you laughed lightly. “That’s not what you do in my sport. I kept smiling and brushed it off best I could.”

“Alright. So we’ll have to protect you around her. You’re too nice,” Nate grinned at you. You smiled back and cleared both of your plates as you had finished eating.

“Shut up. She’s a coach too. It should be fine…I hope.” Nate shrugged at your reply, taking a seat on the coach and making himself comfortable.

“I don’t know. Hockey might just bring out the worst in both of you.”

“Gee, thanks Nate. Glad to know you’d have my back if it came to blows,” you plopped down next to him. Not too close, but close enough the you could knock your knee into his. Curling your feet up on the couch, you both smiled lazily at each other.

“Don’t worry Coach, I’ll be your back up. Tyson will probably be your hype-man,” Nate teased, reaching to shove your shoulder slightly. When his hand came down though, it rested slightly touching yours, and neither of you moved.

“Sounds about right,” you tried to laugh your nerves off. Nate decided to take a leap, and placed his hand over yours. He smiled when he felt you intertwine your fingers with his. The both of you sat in comfortable silence for a minute. Nate was about to speak when your phone started to ring, ruining the moment.

“I’m sorry,” you said, looking at your phone and seeing that it was Jeremy calling. You denied the call, but your screen just lit up again. “Speak of the devil. I can call him back later. I’m sure it’s not important.”

“It’s fine. It’s getting late, and we have practice tomorrow so I should probably go,” Nate said, letting go of your hand and standing up. You were going to kill Jeremy.

“Well thank you for coming over and helping me,” you said as you walked Nate over to the door.

“Anytime,” Nate responded, stopping just outside and turning back to you. “We should do it again sometime.”

“Put together a book shelf?” you raised your eyebrow, hoping you weren’t over analyzing the moment the two of you just had. Nate chuckled and reached out for your hand again.

“No. Lunch, dinner, this,” he squeezed your hand for emphasis. You blushed and nodded. “A book shelf if you really need another one,” Nate added, making you giggle.

“That would be nice,” you responded. Nate grinned at you, and with one more squeeze of your hand he dropped it.

“See you tomorrow Y/N,” he said, backing away from you.

“Get home safely Nate,” you said, smiling at him till he turned around and walked down the hallway. You shut the door and locked up, walking back to the couch and the now 6 missed calls from your best friend. You called him back with a sigh. You didn’t give Jeremy a second to talk when he answered. “You better be dying to have called me this many times.”

“Calm down, I just wanted to talk to you. Why weren’t you answering?” he laughed.

“Nate was over. I think we were having a moment and you ruined it,” you complained.

“Shit…sorry!” Jeremy responded. There was a pause, then he spoke again with excitement. “Now tell me all about it.” You laughed and launched into the story about your day, all the meanwhile looking forward for the season to begin, and to be able to see where things were headed with Nate.

tags: @bqstqnbruin @avsfans95 @andreiaafaria

#nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nhl x reader #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #nathan mackinnon imagine #nathan mackinnon x reader #nate mackinnon imagine #nate mackinnon x reader #Cutting Edge

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mittelfrank-divas · 3 years

Text

Dance of the Black Heron chapter 2

The next chapter of my Dancer Hubert fic! In which the other Black Eagles have opinions on this situation.

This fic is now up on AO3 for those who prefer reading there!

===

"I think it's a fine idea." Edelgard rounded one of the long tables in the Black Eagles classroom, carrying a stack of tactics textbooks. It was quickly growing dark outside, and every other student had long ago vacated the classrooms, but the pair of them were often found here at this hour by the flickering light of the candles and the dwindling embers of the fireplace.

At first, tidying the classroom had been an easy excuse for them to meet at night without suspicion. It was a perfectly appropriate activity for the head of the class and her attendant to engage in regularly outside of normal class hours, with obvious evidence of their work that they could point to the next morning if anybody asked where they had been.

Now, although better awareness of the guard rotations and lesser-used passages gave them plenty of other ways to slip out after dark, habit still found them here day after day. Hubert could not help but notice the pride that Edelgard took in maintaining the Black Eagles classroom, making sure the chairs were straightened and every student had their required materials ready in the morning. It did not matter that their classmates could easily retrieve their books and quills themselves, or that the room would be equally serviceable if the chairs were left slightly askew or that the floor could endure going unswept for a few days. Edelgard wanted the classroom to be perfect for her Eagles, and so Hubert was all too happy to assist her in that.

He automatically held out his arms for her to deposit the books into and began distributing them before each chair on one side of the room while Edelgard began passing out her own stack on the other side. He scowled down at the books in his arms as he sought out the one with the broken binding, which he always deliberately placed in front of Ferdinand's chair. "I did not expect you to share in our professor's folly."

"I see no folly in it." Edelgard was not quite so deliberate in her distribution, placing each of her own books without checking its state. Hubert doubted that any of the other Black Eagles noticed that the left side of the classroom always received the same books each day (the nicest one went to Bernadetta and their state of decay decreased down to Ferdinand's) while the right side was randomized, with each equally likely to receive the one wrinkled with water stains on one corner. Her egalitarian approach meant she always finished sooner than Hubert, and so she was first to move behind the professor's desk to retrieve the quills and ink pots. "I know you know how to dance, Hubert. I have seen you do it many times."

"Respectfully," Hubert grumbled, "our little bedroom waltzes hardly compare to a competition that will determine the composition of our class. You have seen me run before, but you would not ask me to participate in a marathon."

"Nonsense." Edelgard turned to him, a pot of ink in each hand. "That comparison would only be suitable if I had watched you outrun the entirety of our class. You are good at dancing. You have proper stance, you keep time well..."

"Lady Edelgard," Hubert set his final book down and met her eyes directly. "Did you convince the professor to choose me?"

Edelgard's pale eyebrows rose. "You are cross with me. No, I did not. I merely advised them that you would be a good choice. They were already considering you."

"I am not cross with you, I am…" Hubert sighed, and slouched down to rest his gloved hands on the table. "Alright. I am cross. I wish you'd consulted with me before agreeing to this."

Edelgard never cowered from anger -- his, or any other's. It was one of the many traits that made him admire her. Her pale lavender eyes met his fully. "I apologize. I thought it best if you heard directly from our professor first. It is not as though they can force the decision upon you, after all, can they?"

"No," Hubert admitted with a sigh, finally moving to retrieve the quills and ink alongside her. "They merely trapped me in my own logic. Forced me to admit that I can see no better option."

"Well?" She flicked her white hair back out of her eyes as she shot him a sidelong glance. "Is your logic flawed? Is there any other who we should choose instead?"

Hubert had been asking himself that very question since the moment he exited the professor's room. Dare he give up their only cavalry unit? Their only assassin? Could he ignore his own predictions that Linhardt would shirk whatever responsibility the role would demand of him? "I am beginning to question whether we require a Dancer in our ranks at all."

"Well then, I am certain that Claude von Riegan will make good use of it," Edelgard said crisply as she laid out quills.

Claude von Riegan. Claude von Riegan with somebody under his command who could effectively double the speed of any attacking unit. Hubert could already imagine a number of scenarios that Claude could manifest with such power in his hands, but worse were the ones that he could not imagine.

"Your attempts to bait me are rather transparent, I'm afraid." Even as he said it, Hubert attempted to shrug off the vision of the future Alliance leader darting out of their peripherals, bow at ready.

"A pity," Edelgard sighed, moving toward the professor's desk. She always made a point of organizing their notoriously scatterbrained teacher's class materials at the end of the day. "I had hoped I was being subtle. Transparent though I may be, however, do tell me if my plan has worked."

Hubert prided himself on his schemes, on his ability to out-think his opponents. Unfortunately, the fact that he had honed his skill by practicing with his closest friend meant that same friend knew him all too well, and easily turned those same skills back on him. "Of course it has," he conceded, and moved to stand in front of the professor's desk while Edelgard sat down in the chair across from him. "You know I cannot bear the thought of giving such a calculating opponent an edge such as this. Well spotted as ever, Lady Edelgard."

She pulled a stack of Byleth's disorganized notes to herself, a small smile creeping onto her face at her victory. Under normal circumstances, Hubert lived to see that smile soften her carefully-managed features. In this case, it was difficult to take joy in one more sign that his doom was sealed. Nevertheless, she nodded at him. "Alright, then. If our only goal is simply to keep the Dancer class out of anyone else's hands, the solution is simple. We send someone else to compete in the White Heron Cup, but we will not make use of the certification once we have it."

Hubert crossed his arms, considering her suggestion. It was an easy way out. They could send Dorothea or even Ferdinand to compete without interfering with their long-term plans. Edelgard was showing him a kindness by offering an alternative. The fact that he recognized it for a kindness made loathing for himself churn in the pit of his stomach. For her to settle on a lesser choice simply for his sake was intolerable. "An elegant solution, but a wasteful one. I doubt you would be satisfied with such a plan."

Edelgard sighed. "Of course I wouldn't be. I think a Dancer would be of great benefit to us, and I think you would be an ideal choice."

Hubert shook his head, leaning down to press both hands against the front of the desk. "I simply fail to understand why."

"It is just as you and the professor said. The Dancer must be able to anticipate the movements of the battlefield and turn it to their advantage. When I am at the front of the line, I want someone who knows my tactics and my plans, who can predict exactly what choices I will make, to be at my back setting the stage. It's true that anyone in our class could do the job adequately, but only you could use such a position to seamlessly carry out my plans." Edelgard leaned across the desk, her hand closing around Hubert's wrist, her pale eyes meeting his fiercely. "I would never order you down a path that you found intolerable, Hubert. If this is truly unbearable for you, then we will find another solution. I just wish you could see how much I think you would shine in such a role."

She truly had so much faith in him. Not just to be a Dancer, but to be her Dancer. Someone who could help her achieve her lofty goals. Maybe, if he actually could succeed in winning the certification…

Hubert's hand went to his head, pushing his black hair out of his eyes. "This is foolishness. It is not a test of skill, but of charm. You know that I could manage to hit every step perfectly and the judges will still favor whoever has the most attractive smile."

Edelgard's eyes glinted confidently. "And is that such a bad thing? You know as well as I that charm is a matter of manipulating perceptions." She leaned forward, using her grip on Hubert's arm to pull herself across the desk. At her height, Edelgard practically had to lay across the expanse of the wood surface to lean close to him, but she somehow managed it. "Hubert," she said lowly so none passing by the open door could hear, "when we constructed the Flame Emperor together, remember what you said? That we must create an image that strikes awe into the hearts of all who see him. It will not be you dancing out there. It will be the image we create for you. So let us create that image. Will you permit that?"

An image. A persona, like the Flame Emperor. Hubert could not imagine himself standing before the entire school, hoping to convince them of his appeal with a charisma he did not possess. But thinking of it as simply another mask…

His other hand closed over hers. "If you are behind me, I can try."

***

The evening was still early when he found his way to the ground-level dorms. Light glowed warmly from the open doors and windows of the cafeteria, chatter and laughter filtering down the stone staircase. It was a crisp fall evening, not yet cold enough to keep the students from lingering around the fishing pond or drifting slowly toward their dorms while carrying on their dinner conversations, trying to delay the night of studying ahead. It would not be, therefore, considered terribly untoward for Hubert to be standing outside of Dorothea's chambers at this time. He took a moment to steel himself before knocking sharply on her door.

He highly doubted that he was remotely within the sphere of people who Dorothea hoped would be standing on the other side of her door, yet her smile was dazzling anyway. The songstress knew how to perform even in the most mundane of venues. "Hubie! It's not like you to make social calls. Are you here to scold me for forgetting to use Edie's title again? Or is this about that saucy joke I made yesterday? Was that too much for her delicate royal ears to hear?"

Hubert stifled a sigh, already regretting this conversation. Dorothea's personality was entirely too much for him to face directly like this. Her irreverence around Lady Edelgard had been a point of contention in their first few weeks at the academy, but Edelgard herself enjoyed Dorothea's brash attitude and had told him to let it go. Truth be told, Hubert also took a certain amount of pleasure in watching a commoner breezily ignore social mores the way that Dorothea did, pointedly affixing his fellow nobles with all-too-personal nicknames rather than a deferential title. But it was a spectacle that he preferred to appreciate at a distance, without the full force of the songstress's energy and wit directed at him.

"Nothing so serious as that, I assure you." Hubert stiffly folded his hands behind his back, sifting through his mental notes to recall exactly how he had rehearsed this conversation. Unfortunately Dorothea's chaotic nature had already derailed his plans, leaving him to leaf frantically through his script to work out what to say next. The sound of laughter echoing across the square made him uncomfortably aware of the other students and monastery residents moving around behind him. "I thought perhaps that you should hear it first. The professor has chosen our candidate for the White Heron Cup."

He saw her smile falter a bit, and knew that she was doing the math. If Byleth had chosen her, then surely Byleth would be the one to deliver the news. Still, her voice remained as bright as ever. "Really? That's great news! Who is it?"

Hubert could not stand to look at that fading smile anymore, and his eyes found a particularly fascinating crack in the wall by her door. "You should know that this was not at all an easy choice. It was less a matter of who could succeed in the competition than of who we could afford to remove from another role. The composition of our class is..."

"Hubie," all warmth had drained from her voice now, replaced with a dangerous edge. "If you've come all this way just to soothe my feelings over Ferdie being chosen over me, you can just get it over with."

The very suggestion that Hubert would ever choose Ferdinand von Aegir shocked him into looking at her again. "We need Ferdinand on his horse, loathe as I am to admit that. Just as we need you continuing to study both Reason and Faith, a combination that we otherwise lack." He shifted awkwardly, resisting the urge to either fidget or flee. "I have been over the class roster many times, and unfortunately I see no other way around it. The professor is of the opinion that the only one who can be spared for this role is myself."

A single laugh burst out of Dorothea's mouth before she covered it with both hands. "Oh Hubie! Oh I'm sorry, it's not funny. It's just unexpected."

"I am quite aware of how unexpected it is," Hubert muttered, once again taking tremendous interest in the details of the wall beside her. "Which is precisely why I must request your assistance. There can be no doubt that you are our most gifted dancer. Moreover, you have experience with performing before an audience. I wish to ask for your help in preparing for this competition."

Dorothea stared up at him, cautious skepticism on her face. She did not trust nobles, and he shared in her loathing. Hubert himself nearly forgot sometimes that he would be considered one of them in her eyes. Dorothea may have acted cheerful around her classmates, but Hubert had seen the way she sometimes seemed to be bracing for them to turn on her. She looked like she was bracing for that now. "I'm sorry, did you say you need my help? You, Hubie, need my help."

"That is what I said, yes."

Dorothea snorted. "I'm surprised you aren't asking Ferdie, since he seems so very convinced of his superiority in every realm, including dance."

"I do not entertain that one's foolish ramblings." Hubert smirked as he said it, and was pleased that a smile crept back onto Dorothea's own face. She made clear her feelings on Ferdinand -- loudly, and as often as possible -- and it seemed that he won an ally in her on this front. "As much as it pains me to admit my own failings, I know that you are much more practiced in this arena than myself. If you are willing to assist me in this, I would be grateful."

She granted him that warm smile that she shared so freely with her classmates. "Well with a request like that, how can I refuse? Alright, Hubie. How about we meet on the training grounds tonight?"

Hubert felt his heart rate spike just at the thought of being caught practicing in such a public area. The training grounds were less crowded in the evenings, but there were many students who remained there even late into the night. There would be no hope of privacy in such a place. "Actually, I have somewhere more private in mind, if you'll allow. I'll meet you here at your room after class tomorrow and show you the way."

Her smile twisted itself into a sly grin. "Why Hubie, if you wanted to get me alone, a simple dinner invitation would have sufficed."

Now he did sigh. Truly, she was relentless. "I assure you, I have no such intentions. But if this is your way of requesting an exchange for your services, I will see what I can do about a meal."

"No fun at all," Dorothea sighed back, though he could see that she was still teasing him rather than truly disappointed. "Forget it, then. I'll see you tomorrow."

Dorothea closed the door, leaving Hubert standing awkwardly outside. He had the rest of the night ahead of him to fret over what awaited him at Dorothea's lessons.

***

Hubert had never before dreaded class. In fact, against all reason, he even sometimes enjoyed it.

That had been an unexpected development. That Hubert would accompany Edelgard to Garreg Mach, the very seat of the Church of Seiros, that he would attend classes alongside the frivolous sons and daughters of nobility, that he would sit in front of some church-approved professor and listen to their tiresome lectures… and he would not hate it. Sometimes he even learned something. Sometimes he even forgot that he was here under false pretenses, that he was only pretending to be a student in order to further Edelgard's aims.

But class had never before felt like such a trap. Never had he so cursed Edelgard's preference for sitting in the very front row, as well as his own decision to accompany her there. Hubert felt that every single pair of eyes in the room must have been on the back of his head. Surely such a thought was irrational, since only Edelgard and Dorothea yet had reason to suspect his distraction when he failed to turn his tactics textbook to the correct page.

Worse, their distractible professor left Hubert to suffer in silence through the entire lecture, carrying on as though his humiliation was not imminent. It was only when Byleth was about to dismiss them for lunch, threatening to draw out the torture even further, that Edelgard came to his rescue. "Professor, I believe you had intended to make an announcement."

Byleth paused, blinking at Edelgard in that dreamy way they always did when they forgot vital information, such as their own plans. "Oh, yes. We've chosen our candidate for the White Heron Cup."

A general murmur of excitement rippled through the classroom. Hubert pointedly closed his book and began organizing his things, trying very hard to ignore the chatter behind him.

"You were wanting to be choosing, weren't you Ferdinand?"

"I assure you, I know nothing about the professor's choice. If they have selected me, this is the first I am hearing of it."

"It's not me, right? You wouldn't pick me just to make fun of me, would you? Oh no! You have, haven't you? Aaaaaaah I don't want to do iiiiiiiiit!"

"Finally!" Caspar's voice rang out over Bernadetta's cries. "Who'd you pick, professor? We've got so many good dancers here, I bet we'll win no matter what!"

Byleth did not waste time on drawing out the suspense with theatrics. "I've chosen Hubert."

The din faded to uneasy silence. Of all the times that Edelgard had urged the Black Eagles to learn the art of being quiet, somehow this was the moment in which the lesson finally took.

"I don't think he's a bad choice at all." Dorothea jumped in to helpfully damn Hubert with faint praise.

"Indeed, if the strategy is to frighten the judges into choosing our house, you could not ask for a better candidate." Linhardt, naturally, chose to wake up from his nap exclusively for the purpose of contributing this jab.

Having run out of anything left to do with his own class materials, Hubert moved on to straightening Edelgard's notes for her. Might as well let his classmates get this out of their system so they could hopefully never speak of this again.

"Hubert's not going to assassinate the judges, is he? Noooo I can't be an accessory to murder!"

"Bernie, nobody's going to assassinate anyone."

"Is this being a contest of violence? I thought it was of dance."

"No, there's no violence. Bernie's just being dramatic."

"Imagine if it was though? Like what if we had to fistfight Alois to win? That would be awesome!"

"But I don't want to fistfight Alois!"

"Bernie, absolutely nobody is asking you to fistfight Alois."

"Well I trust in our professor's decisions." A single voice boomed above all the others. Caspar may have existed in a perpetual state of yelling, but Ferdinand von Aegir projected his voice at all times as though he was in the midst of orating to a crowd. "I am certain that they have good reason to choose Hubert to represent the Black Eagles house, and we should be proud to support him. Why, regardless of whether or not he's had training, with a few weeks, he should--"

"I have, actually." Hubert was already out of his chair and turning to face Ferdinand before his nerves had a chance to catch up with him. The ginger with his all-too-bright smile was staring at Hubert, startled at being interrupted mid-speech. "Which is something you might already know if you ever deigned to dance with those you consider beneath your status, Ferdinand."

Ferdinand's mouth hung agape, his ears turning a satisfying shade of scarlet. "What is that supposed to--"

"Alright!" Edelgard stood, inserting herself between them as she stepped into the center of the classroom. "Honestly, is this any way to behave before a competition? We are supposed to present a united front before the other houses. I expect all of you to give Hubert your full support, just as you would any one of us."

Hubert made a point of avoiding any further eye contact as he exited the classroom. With resounding support such as this from his own class, did he even need rivals to compete with? Perhaps they might send one of Bernadetta's plush toys to compete and save him the trouble.

#hubert von vestra #edelgard von hresvelg #black eagles #fanfic #dance of the black heron

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acreativeme · 3 years

Text

Little Dove

Clinton Skye x Reader

A/N: I don’t know Russian, so I am using google translate. I apologize for any mistakes. Also, there is some triggers in here about kidnapping, sexual assault, and sex trafficking.

She left a note, along with her phone and her engagement ring.

Clinton,

I’m sorry, but I couldn’t say goodbye in person. I wouldn’t be able to look you in the eye and lie to you. I will be gone for a while, so I am not asking you to wait for me. I can’t tell you anything yet, but I will try when I get back. I love you with everything in me.

Y/N

Clinton sunk down the wall, his heart breaking as he reread her letter. They had been together for a few years, only recently getting engaged. It took him a few minutes, but he called Jess for support.

...2 Months later…

With the help of her driver, Y/N stepped out of the town car-- the slips of her black bodycon gown showing off her muscular legs. Her hair was held back with silver dagger-like sticks, making it easy for her to hide weapons on her person. A bald man in a tight black suit held out his arm for her to take, escorting her into the ball room.

“Добрый вечер, мэм. Аукцион начнется через тридцать минут.”(Good Evening, Ma’am. The auction will begin in thirty minutes.) He said in a low tone.

Y/N nodded, “Спасибо.” (Thank you.)

He let her go as they walked through the doorway of the ballroom. She walked up to the bar, ordering a gin and tonic. As she took a little sip, she scanned the room--picking out her targets in the crowd. A Russian human trafficker had kidnapped four undercover CIA agents, so Y/N was here to get them back and take out the traffickers.

She downed her drink, passing it off to a waiter as they walked passed by. She quickly reapplied her lipstick before heading towards her first target. He was standing off to the side, watching the crowd. Y/N acted as if she hadn’t noticed him standing there, to get him to make the first move.

She watched him scan her from head to toe, smirking as he turned to fully look at her. “Вам нравится то, что вы видите?” (Do you like what you see?) She smirked, still facing away from him.

He smirked, “даже очень.” (Very much so).

Y/N boldly took his hand, leading him to a door that was off to the side of the ballroom. She knew from studying the floor plans that there was a small coat room that was not being used. With her in front, she was not aware that he had pulled something out of his pocket. As he closed the door, Y/N reached for the dagger that she had strapped to her upper thigh. He wrapped one arm around her from behind, using the other to inject her with a sedative.

“Goodnight, маленький голубь.’( Goodnight, little dove.)

...6 months later…

Clinton’s POV

Clinton leaned against the counter, staring off into space-- which is something he’s been doing alot. His thoughts have been shifting towards Y/N, the ex that went missing. Everyone keeps asking how he knew she was missing and hadn’t just left him, and he’d always respond with that he felt it in his soul. He knew with his whole heart that she wouldn’t have left without a good reason.

Jess stepped into the office with a grave look out his face. “Pictures of missing 16 year old, Irene Romanov, were found on sex trafficking website run by Russian Immigrant Dimitri Petrov.” He signaled Hana to pull up the website. “Many of the girls have been identified as missing in both the US and around Europe…” Jess froze as his eyes locked on one of the girls.

“Y/N…” Clinton whispered as he also locked onto her posting.

Y/N was laying on her back, hair dyed blonde. Her eyes were dull like life had been drained from them. She was in a matching pair of red and white lingerie with white fishnet stockings. There were bruises on her neck, arms, and inner thighs.

“What the fuck did they do to her?” Kenny stated, anger evident in his voice.

Hana clicked on the profile. “They say her name is Alyona. She is a ‘submissive and experienced’ lover.” She gagged at the end, as the team turned to look at Clinton.

His face was unreadable. “I told you.” was all he said as he stormed out of the room.

Y/N’s POV

She looked around the bare room that Dimitri had shoved her into, trying to figure a way out. She had been traded to Dimitri by the man that kidnapped her, who then moved her to America--not realizing that this was her home turf. She observed him as he moved around the warehouse that he turned into a brothel, noticing that he would leave doors open as he rotated girls in and out of the ‘business’ bedrooms.

Dimitri had a schedule for each girl, like this was some union job, and would rotate out the women after their shift. Y/N, however, was the only girl that he didn’t do that with. He would send in John after John, only giving her small intervals of time to recoup between dates. The only other thing he did different from the other girls was that he didn’t drug her. The man that sold her to him had mentioned that she was a submissive bitch and that he recommends not ‘damaging good goods’ with drugs.

Dimitri seemed to idolize the man that kidnapped her, so he listened to him about the drugs. Dimitri uses violence to keep her in line, especially when she acts out around the other girls. He would use her as an example to keep the other girls in line, which she would gladly continue to do if it meant she could protect the other girls.

The only time that Y/N gets to spend time with the other girls is when they shower, as Dimitri forces them to shower together in a prison-like shower area. She will check on them as they pass along the cheap hygiene products, which makes them consider her a guardian angel. There have been multiple times where he has come in to find her holding one of the other girls, which makes him rip the other girl out of her arms and back hand her.

“Are you ready for your next customer, Alyona? Heard he’s a dark one.” Dimitri stood over her with a dark grin.

She internally sighed, not wanting to show her true emotions. “Yes, master.” She replied meekly. She moved to be sitting on the edge of the bed with her knees together but feet apart.

He leaned out the doorway to signal for the customer to come. “You may enter, Sir. Your entertainment for the evening is ready.”

Y/N had to hold back a gasp as Clinton Skye walked through the door. “Good evening, sir. Thank you for accepting me as your entertainment.” She recited, just as she had been instructed.

Clinton nodded, trying to school his face. “She’ll do just fine.”

Dimitri nodded, shutting the door as he walked out of the room. Clinton and Y/N stared at each other, not knowing what to say to each other. After a moment, Y/N launched herself into his arms. She sobbed into his arms as he held her tightly to his chest.

He let her bury herself into his chest. “Shhh. I got you, love.” He whispered into her hair.

She pulled away to look at him. “I messed up, Clinton. I lied to you about my past and my relationship with the agency. I took a mission that I knew was going to go wrong.”

“Don’t think about it now. We’ve got to focus on getting you and other girls out of here.” He whispered darkly, shooting the door a hard look. “We’ve got a team surrounding the building and snipers on the surrounding buildings.”

Y/N took a deep breath, hardening herself. “You are right.” She brushed the tears away, “did you bring in any weapons?”

“Y/N, I don’t want you to get involved. You’ve been through enough, let me take care of you.” He looked at her with big eyes, wanting her to listen to him.

She sighed, knowing that she was not in any shape to take down these criminals. “Okay, we will do it your way.”

Clinton kissed her forehead. “It’s a go!” he whispered into his mic.

Clinton made sure to put himself between Y/N and the door. He knew that Dimitri was going to try and come after Y/N, having heard some henchman talking about how she was going to be their golden goose. He promised himself, after seeing her picture on that website, that would protect her with his last breath. He also promised not to tell her, because she would lecture him about how she can protect herself.

Within moments of the team storming the castle, Dimitri was throwing open the door- half expecting them to be in the middle of having sex. He froze as Clinton aimed his gun at his forehead. “Freeze.”

“You’re a cop!” He yelled, charging at them.

Clinton fired his weapon, only after aiming for Dimitri’s knee. Dimitri fell forward with a scream. “I told you to freeze.”

Kenny came in shortly after the gunshot, gun raised and ready. “Clinton, you guys okay?”

Clinton nodded, “Yeah, the idiot moved when I told him to freeze. I’m going to let you cuff him, while I take Y/N to the ambulance.”

Dimitri looked up, confused on who Y/N was. “Whose Y/N?”

She finally stepped from behind Clinton. “Me. My name is not Alyona.” She walked forward, trying not to show that she was scared. “You are not only going to be charged for crimes at a national level, but an international level also.”

Dimitri smeared at her, laughing under his breath. “You went from cop to whore. What an upgrade.”

Without thinking, Y/N slugged him. Clinton and Kenny jumped into action, and pulled them apart. “At least I won’t be someone’s bitch in prison.”

Clinton pulled her out of the room, not wanting to subject her to that creeps presents. “Come on, let’s get you to the hospital.”

Y/N just nodded, becoming increasingly more hollow the farther away they got from her room.

... At the hospital…

Y/N’s POV

Y/N numbly as the SANE nurses poked, prodded, and took photos of her. She didn’t make a sound, no matter how much they made her uncomfortable. They hadn’t allowed Clinton into the exam room as they weren’t married. When they asked her to lay on the table, Y/N closed her eyes tightly-- trying to not picture the numerous men that had taken advantage of her.

“This may feel a little bit uncomfortable, but we need to do a pelvic exam.” The nurse said, wanting to keep her clued into everything that was going on.

“I know.” She whispered, laying back and spreading her legs.

Everything goes black for the remainder of the exam, not that Y/N needed to pay too much attention. When she opened her eyes, Clinton was standing next to her-- talking with a doctor.

“... she is going to need a lot of therapy and patience. We are going to prescribe anti-depressant, anti-anxiety, and sleeping medications as she is going to have some trauma from what she experienced.” The doctor explained, not even bothering to look at her.

“You know, if you are going to talk about me, you better man up and look at me.” Y/N stated, hoarsely. “I will not be treated like I am less than human, because I am a sexual assault victim.”

Clinton squeezed her hand, wanting to bring her comfort. “Y/N, he is just trying to help you heal.”

She rolled her eyes, reverting back to silence. The doctor shared a look with Clinton, before stepping out of the room. “I know that you’ve been through a lot, but you don’t need to be snippy with the doctor.”

She glared at him. “He was acting cold, not caring about my feelings. I have feelings, Clinton. I am not just some piece of meat.” She cried.

Clinton pulled her into his arms. “I know, sweetie.” He rubbed her head. “You’ve been through something horrific, it is going to take some time to properly heal.”

She looked up at him with big eyes. “I don’t want to do this alone.” She whimpered.

“You won’t be alone, love. I promise.”

A/N: There will not be a part two. I don’t feel comfortable writing a 2nd part.

#requested #FBI Most Wanted #fbi most wanted imagine #imagines #one shots #sex trafficking #trigger warning #trauma #ptsd #gunshot #Clinton Skye #Clinton Skye imagines #sweetswriting

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wu-sisyphus-gang · 3 years

Text

Motion Sickness Chapter 38

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"How long are you going to follow me, you mute bitch?" With her teleportation and illusions there wasn't much I could do about it. We both knew if it came down to it I'd win, though. I'd shown that earlier. But she could escape anytime she wanted so I couldn't chase after her and end it. I could activate my semblance and smash her around with my strength or speed and win by standing still.

But only by standing still.

I walked past a billboard proclaiming Mercury Black, Emerald Sustrai, Cinder Fall, Hazel Rainart, and the Scorpion as wanted. My friends lived. I'd go spy on them later, when Neapolitan wasn't watching. Just to check up on them. Then I'd head my separate way.

She rapidly poked one finger through a loop in the other hand. "Fuck," I interpreted. She pointed at me. "Myself."

She clapped her hands giddily in her approval and her eyes switched colors.

"I need money," I muttered. "And a new scroll. I don't suppose you have any ideas."

She reached out into an illusion and retrieved a red brimmed hat.

"Ones that don't involve Ruby. I really seriously don't know where she is."

She looked like she didn't believe me, eyebrows furrowed.

"Well tough shit. Unless you want to go another round." She rubbed her chest where I hit her. "I'd be all for that."

She just frowned.

"Fair enough," I said. "Why do you even want to find Ruby?"

She drew a line over her throat and fondled the red and black hat.

"You want revenge for Roman Torchwick."

She nodded.

"Ruby didn't kill your boss." I dropped the harsh news on her.

She cocked her head sideways at me as we walked together through Mistral. It was… it was actually nice to have someone to talk to. Talk at, even. Otherwise I'd be alone with my thoughts and that just wouldn't be good for me. I was still wishy-washy on ending my own life.

I deserved it too. I wanted to die for what I'd done to my friends. I was the culprit, the thief in the night who robbed them of the opportunity of ever being 'together, together.'

At least they were together in death, now.

"A Grimm got him," she frowned up at me at that. "You can't even get revenge." I laughed. "You poor bitch. Not that I'm any better." Who was I supposed to kill in my hunt for vengeance now? Me. And believe me I was thinking of ways of getting to that son of a bitch. Unfortunately he was running out of friends.

An alien goddess had control over my mind. I was little more than a puppet under the right circumstances. I suppose if I had been like a puppet, all uncoordinated, Ren and Nora might have had a chance at subduing me. Instead I'd acted more or less fluid. That was a little scarier. Or a lot.

She smashed one fist into the other.

"If you were going to kill me you would have done it back at the bar. Don't act. You can't pull it off. Not while I'm awake and I assure you I'll be on my guard while sleeping. You won't get it done then either, not with my aura level."

She gave me an adorable pout. Her pink lips pressed together and out. Her pink and brown hair flowing over her shoulders.

"I know how you feel. I need revenge against Cinder. You know her? Cinder Fall?"

Her grin stretched.

"Don't tell me you want to kill her too? Did she get your boss killed? Set him up?"

She nodded.

"That's as good as killing him, I suppose. I think we may be able to help each other. Ruby really didn't kill him. Ruby doesn't have it in her to kill somebody. She always goes out of her way to avoid it."

She frowned and pointed at me.

"She's not like me. I'm a murderous asshole."

She shook her head indicating I'd guessed wrong and pointed at me again.

"What about me?"

She rotated one finger next to her head.

"I am crazy. Don't even get me started. If nothing else I'm suicidally insane. And that doesn't even get to these bugs in my eyes."

She pantomimed doing a line of hyper. Pinching one side of her nose and breathing in.

"I'm not on anything. I'm just fucked up."

She touched the tips of opposite forefingers together.

"What's that mean? It's not the same thing."

We walked in two-sided silence for a few minutes down a rainy street.

"You know where somebody with a loose moral compass can make some money around here relatively fast?"

She pointed a thumb over her shoulder back at Malachite's bar.

"Yeah, I sorta burned that bridge. And it can't involve Don Corneo. I had him tortured. Killed a bunch of his men, too."

Her smile widened looking up at me.

"Oh is that how you get your jollies?"

She just grinned up at me.

"Well I suppose we could just do official huntsman work. That's always lucrative."

She pointed a finger between us.

"Yeah I thought you were following me. That makes it an us. Keep up. Plus I just might be your best shot at murdering Fall. I almost fuckin' had her. And I might know where she's headed next."

She looked at me in surprise.

"Yep. Her and Black, too. Fought them relatively recently."

She put a hand to her mouth and silently laughed at me.

"Yeah they lived. Go ahead and giggle. Next time I'll get one of them. At least one of them. Well, Cinder has the powers of the spring maiden now. It might be even harder than before."

She gave me a confused look. Hell, who was she going to tell? She was… easy to talk to besides. I wasn't sure if it was the muteness but it might be.

"It's a whole thing. Ancient powers passed along person to person. Myths and legends. It's fucking bullshit is what it is. Girls only club. So maybe you could get in on that action."

She silently snorted, full of doubt. A little air escaping her nose.

"It's true. You can be the one to fight her and find out the hard way or you can take my word for it. She's even more dangerous now. And she was already a heaping pile of it before. I surprised her yesterday and I'm only getting stronger from what I've seen but she just added a big helping of power to herself."

She pointed at herself then smashed one fist into her open palm to indicate violence.

"Could you beat her?"

She nodded. Letting me know I'd guessed right.

"Maybe. Maybe before but probably not now. You'd be in serious trouble. I'd be in serious trouble." I let that sink in, I was able to beat this ice-cream girl and if I was not able to beat Cinder that only meant she wouldn't be able to either.

She made a complicated series of gestures.

"I didn't get that. But it doesn't matter, does it?"

She just frowned at me and I strode forward. She was practically jogging to keep up and I had no intention of slowing down.

The relic jingled by my side as I walked.

"You know maybe it can involve Don Corneo. You up for stealing from a mob boss? It might involve torture and death. I could use someone with your talents."

pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq

Some broken limbs and I learned the news (Neapolitan had clapped at that). Don Corneo was holed up in his mansion with a whole lot of guards and probably a whole lot of money. Evidently he hadn't taken being tortured very well.

Go figure.

Neapolitan or just Neo was working beside me and honestly it felt good to have somebody watching my back, even if they were criminal scum. Which, I mean, beggars couldn't be choosers from their glass houses.

I needed a pseudonym. I could hardly keep calling myself Jaune Arc even though my weapon and face would be recognizable. I needed a haircut and makeover and a new name. I had to hide from my friends as much as it bit at me.

I was lucky they hadn't reported me to the police. The wounds on Nora and Ren's bodies would be unmistakable as coming from my weapon.

More importantly I needed the money to do all that. I was a long ways away from hopping on a horse and riding out to Merlot's laboratory, as much as I may want to. Instead I needed to stay in the city for a while.

That meant laying low and coming up with a heist. I needed money. Enough that I didn't have to worry about it for a long time.

I was struggling to come up with a new name for myself. That was always the hardest part. Names. I thought that as I broke one of Don Corneo's lackeys' fingers.

Neo and I had him tied down in a hotel room on the lower levels. It was dirt cheap and nobody would ask any questions. Especially if we left no body behind.

He screamed into a gag and it came out muffled. Nickel was the name we managed to get out of him.

"Shshsh." I told him. "You're going to tell me the security details on Don Corneo's mansion or I'm going to break every last bone in your body. If you scream I'll hurt you even more than that. Are we clear? Everything goes well and you get to walk on out of here. You might have to find a new boss but that doesn't really matter compared to your life, does it?"

He seemed to realize I was actually waiting for a response and gave a slow shake of his head. I nodded at Neo and she pulled out the gag.

"Now, what's the security look like?"

"He's going to kill you for this, he's going to-"

Neo gave a lecherous grin and stabbed him through the foot. Who was this guy fooling? He didn't even have aura. There was no way the Don cared about him a Lien. Not that we cared considering we were planning to rob him blind. She covered his mouth with the other hand, not that we really needed to down here per se, and looked him in the eye.

Her gaze flickered out like a hungry lizard's tongue to meet his eyes and devour all of the pain therein.

"Boy you don't even have aura. I can fix that for you. Unlock your aura and make it all go away." He was older than me, probably by a few years. Might be twenty-one, twenty-two. I watched him consider it. Aura was a game changer. A kid like him had to know what it meant, what it could mean. It'd mean a pay raise if nothing else. It meant increased survivability. It meant the power to fight back against those dastardly huntsmen.

"I can make the pain go away too. It'll heal you right up, even your broken fingers." They were tied behind his back. Nice and easy within snapping distance. "What's it going to be, my man."

"Fuck you, I ain't your man."

I broke another one of his fingers. Neo stuffed the gag back in his mouth while he screamed.

"We're not making much headway with this one. Might have to kill him and grab a fresh one. Start over." I said it clinically to Neo. Her eyes went wide at the thought of the violence. I even thought maybe the tips of her breasts were protruding more than before from the excitement. She gave a silent laugh and I hoped it was just my imagination. For my part I didn't have a carnage boner.

A murder erection I distinctly did not have. I wasn't a sadist. Just a pragmatist.

I had to admit there was a bit of an endorphin rush at the thought of snapping this guy's neck, though. With Neo's semblance we'd just walked up and grabbed him from the mansion and we'd walked away, under the cover of an illusion.

Suddenly I had some symptoms come at me and I blinked hard at the tactile sensation of bugs in my eyes until they stopped. Nerves firing which shouldn't have been.

"I'm thinking maybe we just hammer the place. Go all in and kill everyone in our way," I said. "Your thoughts, Neapolitan?"

She stamped a foot.

"Beg your pardon, I meant Neo." I hadn't but she seemed content to insist on it now that I'd figured it out. I took it as a good sign.

"M-m-m. M-m-m." Came from under the gag.

"Sorry, do you have friends in there? Some buddies perhaps?"

Neo pulled the gag out of his mouth. Nickel spat on the floor, very much not in our directions. He didn't want another broken finger was what that told me.

"You'll never make it like that. The Don has a safe room. A panic vault. You'll never get in and get what you want that way."

"And you've telling us this now because…"

"I want a cut. He's got millions stashed away. A-and I want my aura unlocked... And I walk free."

So that's how it is. Money talks, money talks. Apparently louder than broken bones could.

"Tell me about this panic room."

"It's got Titania walls and big electric locks."

"What kind?"

"The fuck should I know? It's like you see in bank vaults though. His office is in there. Or at least it is now they moved it from the second floor. He's been paranoid. There's been talk."

"Talk about how somebody got to him." I nodded. I put my face in his. "Somebody did. I'm going to do it again."

"It was you. It was you at the Honey Bee Inn." His brown eyes went wide.

"Maybe. Tell me about the mansion."

"It's built with choke points in mind. And places we're supposed to go to to lay down fire if there's an assault. It's all built around this central courtyard, too. It has mines in the walls, explosives at every corridor. They can be remotely activated by the Don. The whole place is booby-trapped. It’s supposed to be huntsman proof.”

“Nothing is actually huntsman proof."

He shrugged but the fact he was panting hard ruined the illusion of calm. "Couldn't say."

"Talk to me about the patrols you were on.”

“They’re fairly strict about it. Somebody will have noticed I’m gone, even. Every hour on the hour and through the center courtyard. Around the building, too.”

“How many?”

“A hundred of us at a given time, maybe."

A hundred could be a problem. Especially if they had proper choke points and the right hardware. Hard light weapons or magnetically accelerated rifles were huntsman level. There were also electric weapons which I was sure could find Neo, invisible or not. I'd seen Neptune use one. An explosion could also take me down. Limit was good but I wasn't invincible.

"Aura?"

"Some of us have it, some of us don't. The Don hasn't been in a position to be picky about his men. Not with his empire crumbling under pressure to the Malachites."

I leaned back and folded my arms. I exchanged looks with Neo. She flickered in and out of the visible spectrum and warbled a hand.

"Might be too many to just walk in to. Plus the explosives. They gonna be a problem for you?"

She waved her hand again.

"Samesies," I grunted.

I had him walk me through the layout of the place in enough detail that I was able to draw a map of the first and second floor. The panic office was on the bottom floor. A big, heavy thing like that couldn't be above ground.

Neo gave me a pleading look and I nodded. She walked behind Nickel and she bent down like she was going to untie him. Giving him one last shred of hope before she snapped up and slit his throat. I watched her take extreme pleasure in doing it.

She shuddered with the living corpse as his lifeblood drained soundlessly onto the floor. She looked ecstatic in the company of death. A low narrow smile on her lips.

It was clear to me. I just needed to give her lots of targets. It seemed like it had been a long time since she was able to indulge in such things. Heists. Murder. All of it. Money must trickle. The blood must flow.

Most importantly I needed to keep her focused on Cinder rather than Ruby. I think the message was starting to sink in but she could relapse. Besides, I wanted Cinder to die and another body wouldn't hurt.

I just needed to make sure she didn't run out of her little pleasures and it seemed to me like I'd have a loyal ally. Underneath it all it seemed like she was just lonely and scared. Especially without her boss. I think there was a part of her that liked taking orders.

And weren't we all like all that? I was like that without Ruby for one. I wasn't sure she would approve of this but she probably didn't approve of me murdering our friends either so there was that.

Neo didn't seem so bad. A bit of a sadist but hey, me too. There was a part of me that took sick pleasure in bringing ruin to my enemies. There was a sideways joy in delivering a boot to their faces.

And my friends… if I ever saw them again they'd have to understand. I did what I had to to find out about Merlot… this… my father. I had so many memories. Like visiting Shion. We're they all fake? I had to learn more about myself. If I had to shake hands with a few demons to make it happen then big fucking whoop.

Neo looked at the blood on her stiletto and wiped it off on the Nickel's clothes.

I could work with this. I could live with this. I just needed to throw away my pride.

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-WG

#neapolitan #Jaune Arc #Rwby #ff7 #ffvii #motion sickness #war of the roses #white rose #whiterose #whiteknight #white knight #lancaster #ruby rose x jaune arc x weiss schnee

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i-stan-nct-and-satan · 4 years

Text

Not Broken Part 10 (Jaehyun Mafia AU)

Not Broken Masterlist

Jaehyun X Reader

Y/N is a burlesque dancer living in Seoul. Jaehyun is one of the most powerful mafia men in Seoul. How will Y/N survive when Jaehyun suspects that she is involved with a rival gang?

Reasons to read this story: Ten's a cross-dressing madam so..... yeah read it ya freaks.

Trigger warning: mentions of physical abuse, mentions of sexual abuse

“Wow.”

Taeyong was the first to break the silence once the tape ended.

Everyone in the room turned their heads to look at their boss. They had been gauging his reactions as they all listened to the tape, but no one dared to make eye contact with him until now.

His unreadable expression juxtaposed the guilt-ridden faces that filled the room.

Jaehyun remained silent as he processed the contents revealed in the tape.

“Damn. We fucked up,” Mark offered, attempting to ease the tension in the room.

An abrupt fist slammed onto the table, immediately prompting Mark to regret the words that fell past his lips.

“What did you just say?” Jaehyun dared Mark to repeat himself.

“Uh. I-I just,” Mark stuttered.

“You what?”

“I was just saying that we made a mistake. That’s all.”

“A mistake? You think that I made a mistake?”

“N-no sir, I just meant.”

“What else could you have meant?” Jaehyun challenged, standing up from the table.

“What about the rest of you? Who else thinks that I made a mistake in how I’ve chose to deal with the situation at hand?”

The room was silent as Jaehyun looked around at his men.

“Don’t think that this changes anything. This tape is just another factor to consider. We’ve dealt with hostages in the past who have come up with more convincing stories than this one. The fact of the matter is that we’ve just heard another story and we don’t know if it’s true or not and even if it is, that still doesn’t mean that we were anything less than professional in how we’ve gone about this mission. I expect you all to remember who we are and why we’re here.”

Jaehyun looked at his second in command whose eyes were currently glued to the floor.

“To find the bastard who killed IU. Don’t let your feelings get in the way of that. Y/N isn’t a woman, she’s a suspect. Remember that.”

<><><><><><><><>

I shut the water off.

“Finished?”

“Yeah.”

“Here’s a towel.”

I instinctively crossed my arms over my breasts, half expecting Winwin to pull back the curtain completely. I was relieved when instead, Winwin’s hand enter the shower only to hand me a fluffy, oatmeal-colored towel.

“Thanks,” I mumbled, cursing myself under my breath for having thanked one of my captors.

“When you’re done drying off, wrap yourself **** and then come out,” the raven-haired boy instructed.

I quickly ran the towel over my body before using it to give my hair a quick ruffle with it to keep my hair from dripping all over. I didn’t want to rush, but I didn’t want to risk irritating the man acting as my prison guard, so I wasted no time in wrapping the towel around my frame before stepping out into the spacious bathroom.

Winwin’s eyes only looked over my body for a brief moment before he walked over to the door. The apparent disinterest in his stare caused me to wonder if he was only looking to make sure I wasn’t hiding anything under my towel. Maybe he really wasn’t interested in women, not that a man’s lack of attraction to me meant that he lacked an attraction to any woman. I wasn’t deluded enough to think that.

“Are you coming or not?” he asked, obviously annoyed.

Yet again, I had found myself distracted by unimportant thoughts. I followed him out the door and back into the large bedroom.

“What’s your size?”

“Excuse me?”

Winwin rolled his eyes as he grabbed my free hand, the one that wasn’t holding my towel in place. He guided me over to a black dresser whose shiny painted coating gave it an obsidian-like appearance. I lost myself in the reflection of the black surface and for a fleeting second, I questioned whether a dresser made of obsidian was really that farfetched of an idea, especially in a house like this.

Winwin kneeled in front of the dresser and opened the bottom drawer. He took out a few pairs of pants before closing the drawer and opening the one above it. I watched as he continued to open each drawer, take out a few articles of clothing and then close them again. Once his arms were filled with clothing, he stood up and walked over to the neatly made bed. He dropped the clothing onto the bed, ruining its once wrinkle free surface.

“See what fits.”

I turned to Winwin, now aware of what he had meant before when he asked for my size.

“I don’t want to change in front of you.”

Winwin rolled his eyes for the hundredth time.

“Then I guess you better check the sizes to see what fits **** you don’t have to do it more than once,” he instructed.

Knowing that he wasn’t going to budge, I walked over to bed and inspected the labels on each article of clothing. I had only meant to look at the sizing, but I couldn’t help but notice the branding that adorned each piece. Dior, Chanel, and Versace littered the bed spread. Lucky for me, the clothes all seemed to be roughly my size with only a few exceptions that were definitely meant for someone much thinner than me. For some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to choose any of the articles that appeared to be on the more expensive side, so I grabbed the plainest white T shirt I could find and a pair of jeans. I couldn’t help but notice that even the T shirt, which the average person wouldn’t have been able to distinguish from one that came in a Hanes value pack, had a Gucci tag on the inside.

Rich people, I swear.

I turned away from Winwin and gave my best attempt to put on the shirt and jeans while still hiding my body with the towel. There wasn’t any underwear on the bed to choose from, but I figured that was because Winwin believed that no underwear was better than used underwear, a sentiment I agreed with.

“Hey Winwin?” I asked as I awkwardly changed into the fresh set of clothing.

“Hm?”

“Whose room is this?”

Winwin paused for a few seconds as he organized his thoughts.

“Lee Ji-eun's.”

I shot Winwin a glance while continuing to change.

“Oh. Who is that?” I probed further as I pulled the shirt over my head.

“Jaehyun’s sister. The one who was killed by Lucas.”

The towel dropped to my feet.

<><><><><><><><>

“So, what do we do now, sir?” Johnny asked, cautious not to piss his boss off any more than he already was.

“Right now, we have to check her story out for any inconsistencies. Taeil, recheck the footage from the ball. If there’s anything we missed, we need to find it.”

“Got it,” Taeil obliged, opening his laptop.

“Johnny, go tell Winwin to take the girl back to the basement,” Jaehyun commanded.

“On it.”

Johnny turned to leave when the sound of vigorously clacking keys came to a sudden stop.

“Um, boss?” Taeil gulped, causing both Johnny and Jaehyun to turn towards him.

“You might want to take a look at this,” he continued, rotating the screen so they could see.

“Crap,” Jaehyun muttered, gritting his teeth.

Taeyong positioned himself beside Jaehyun so that he could see what his friend was referring to.

“Oh no.”

“What? What is it?” Mark asked as he tried to see the screen only for Jaehyun to close it.

“They know.”

Everyone’s eyes were on Jaehyun as Taeyong took the lead in updating everyone.

“That was a message from Wayv. They know Y/N killed Lucas and they know we have her. Not only that, but they’re demanding we give her to them.”

“Wait, so that confirms that Y/N’s story is true, right? That she didn’t have anything to do with IU’s death,” Mark exclaimed excitedly.

Jaehyun sent a glare towards Mark.

“What it means is that we have a rat among us, moron,” Doyoung spat.

“W-what?” Mark faltered.

“That’s right,” Jaehyun began.

“It makes sense that word would spread after the events of the burlesque show. It wouldn’t be that much of a surprise if they figured out the identity of the girl we took or even why we took her, but one thing’s for sure, there was no way that they could have found out about the contents on the tape without someone here leaking it.”

“Jae, you know that no one here would betray us, and besides, there are over ways they could have found out. They could have hacked us,” Taeyong voiced.

“How Taeyong? We used as old-fashioned recording device,” Jaehyun boomed.

“No evidence of hacking our networks either,” Taeil chimed in having reopened his laptop.

“What about hidden cameras?”

Taeil lifted his head from the laptop.

“Not a chance there either. I implemented a system that messes with the electromagnetic frequency of certain HighTech transmitting recording devices. That’s why we use older forms of recording devices.”

Taeyong sat down, looking defeated.

“Okay, but... who could it even be?”

A pregnant pause washed over the room as everyone attempted to cease their wandering eyes.

“Fuck!” Jaehyun cursed causing everyone to look at him.

“Winwin is alone with Y/N right now! That bastard!”

Jaehyun turned to Taeyong.

“Hurry, we need to find them before-”

“Before what?” Taeyong panted.

“If Winwin’s the mole, he might be under orders to hand Y/N over to Wayv or to kill her on the spot. We have to find them, now!” he yelled before they both started charging towards the East wing.

Johnny hesitated for a moment before turning to the remaining members at the table.

“Come on, let’s go.”

Now it was Johnny’s turn to start running towards the East wing with Mark following quickly behind.

Doyoung got up to follow but was stopped by a sudden hand that tugged at his wrist. Doyoung faced his purple haired partner.

“What?”

“You don’t think that Winwin’s actually the mole, do you?”

Doyoung’s face softened slightly before looking down at Taeil, who was purposely avoiding his gaze.

“I don’t know, but it’s not our place to challenge orders.”

Once the blue streaked boy disappeared from their vision, Yuta and Taeil merely stared at the empty doorway.

“Winwin please,” Taeil prayed softly

<><><><><>

“Are you done changing?” Winwin asked.

“Oh, umm. Yeah,” I commented, having been suddenly caught off guard.

I bent over to grab the towel that had fallen at my feet.

Winwin did his best to explain everything to me. He told me that IU was Jaehyun’s sister and that she was killed by Lucas. He explained how Wayv defected from NCT and how they’ve been unable to find him since the incident. Winwin even told me how the necklace I was wearing the night I was kidnapped had belonged to her and that led Jaehyun and the rest of NCT 127 to believes that I had something to do with his sister’s death. I stood there and listened to him without any comments or questions. It was too much to take in all at once.

“What? Are you surprised?” he questioned, observing your reaction.

“No,” I lied.

I thought they were interrogating me for Lucas’ death but instead they thought I was responsible for his sister’s death? I almost died because of that mistake. Even if that’s why he acted the way he did, he nearly beat me to death and over a goddamn misunderstanding. I scoffed in bewilderment. Winwin stared at me eyebrows raised.

“I was just noticing how I’m getting better at understanding your accent,” I lied again.

I was amazed that Winwin’s eyes didn’t fall out of his head due to all the eyerolling he did.

“Oh wow. What an honor,” he mused sarcastically.

“So...” I began.

“So...?”

I laughed at the amount of courage I was feeling. Especially since it didn’t make much sense in this situation.

“So, what was she like?”

“IU? Well... She wa-”

Winwin was cut off when the door to the bedroom was slammed open. The interruption was so abrupt and unexpected that I fell back onto the bed. Winwin, however, seemed unaffected by the pink haired man who had suddenly crashed the conversation. Only seconds after Jaehyun entered the room, a certain fiery red head soon followed suit.

Jaehyun’s gaze met mine and a wave of relief seemed to wash over him, softening his usually stiff features. I, of course, hadn’t noticed this. I was too anxious to decipher the meaning behind his expression since I was still in fear for my life.

His breathing was heavy and uneven making it obvious that he had run here. He stared at Winwin, giving himself a few seconds to catch his breath and assemble his thoughts before approaching the composed man in a less than composed manner.

“You bastard!” Jaehyun’s hands grabbed Winwin’s shoulders, forcing his narrow frame into the wall.

Despite their similar heights, Winwin’s body, which looked as though it had been defined through years of hand-to-hand combat, looked almost fragile next to Jaehyun’s more muscular build. Anyone else would have surely felt overcome with alarm and panic if put in Winwin’s position, yet the man himself seemed to be more annoyed than anything.

“Admit it, you worthless piece of shit.”

Johnny and Mark were the next to run through the bedroom door, then Doyoung, but I hadn’t noticed their presence until Taeyong’s hand came into my field of vision. I looked up at him, realizing that he was offering to help me up. I accepted without thinking.

“Mark over here is going to take you somewhere. Follow everything he says, okay?”

Despite his intimidating features, his gaze resembled that of a concerned mother. His watery eyes mirrored mine and I couldn’t help but trust that his instructions were in my best interest. I nodded in response before the nearby blonde guided me into the hall.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Winwin’s bitter stare bore holes into the hands that were wrinkling his shirt.

“And what exactly is it I should be admitting?” he challenged, making no effort to remove himself from his boss’s grip.

“Don’t fuck with me, Winwin. Or should I say Sicheng?” Jaehyun spat.

Winwin’s irritation turned into genuine confusion once the name had reached his ears.

After a short pause, Winwin’s eyes widened in realization only for them to tightly squeeze shut.

“What did Kun do?”

An oppressive force filled the room and the now somber atmosphere resembled that of a funeral rather than an interrogation.

Jaehyun removed his hands from Winwin but his unmoving figure informed his curly haired underling that he wasn’t finished with him yet.

“Wayv knows.” Jaehyun carefully analyzed Winwin’s reactions as he disclosed this new information.

Winwin looked past his boss’ shoulders at the other four men standing in the room with them. Doyoung stared back at him while Johnny and Mark did their best to avoid meeting his gaze. Taeyong simply shook his head at what was happening in front of him.

“About what? The girl?” he finally responded.

When Jaehyun gave no hint of confirming nor denying his presumption, he continued to press on.

“And what? You think I’m the one who told them? What evidence do you have of that? None, right?” Winwin scoffed.

“Well who else would it be?”

“Winwin is innocent!”

Everyone’s eyes shot towards the two men who had abruptly entered the bedroom.

“What do you mean?” Jaehyun asked.

“The message from Wayv. It wasn’t traceable.” Yuta explained.

“So? It isn’t uncommon for an enemy message to be untraceable. It’d be sloppy of them if it was.”

“Yes, but this time it’s different,” Taeil began.

“Normally with messages like these, we can at least trace them back to an IP address even though they’re almost always dead ends, but when I traced the origins of this message ...”

“Get to the point, Taeil,” Jaehyun ordered.

“Yes, sir. When I searched for the message’s origin, the IP address the message was sent from matched the IP address of the computer that received it.”

“In other words, it was sent from Taeil’s laptop,” Yuta translated.

“Wait, what does that mean? So, someone had access to Taeil’s computer?” Taeyong asked.

“Well kind of. As you all know, I’ve been the only one who’s had any direct physical contact with my laptop over the last few days,” Taeil explained.

“So, what are you saying?” Jaehyun huffed.

“Someone hacked my laptop without me knowing. I gotta give it to them, I had no idea and right now I don’t have any idea how long they’ve had access or how much control they had, but at this point, it’s highly probable that they’ve accessed control of everything my laptop has control of, including any systems we’ve implemented not to mention it’s microphone and camera.”

“So, they can hear everything Taeil’s laptop could hear,” Yuta summarized.

Jaehyun turned back to Winwin.

“Don’t think this means we’re done here,” He growled.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Winwin smirked at his boss.

“Taeil? Where’s your laptop right now?” Jaehyun asked the brown-haired man.

<><><><><><><><><><><><>

“So, how are you?” Mark asked as we walked down the winding hallways.

I stopped and looked at him, the irritation in my face somehow went over his head.

“So, is that like a not good?”

“Oh no, I’m great. I might have two black eyes but at least I don’t have three,” I spat out before resuming my pace.

Mark sighed.

“Where are we even going?” I asked, still peeved.

“You know what, I don’t actually know. Taeyong didn’t give me any orders beyond telling me to get you out of there.”

“How did I get myself into this mess?” I muttered under my breath.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

Mark looked around as we continued down the hall. I could tell there was something on his mind, but I couldn’t bring myself to care what it was.

“Hey,” He loudly called out even though I was walking right next to him.

I gave him a quick glance before returning my gaze forward.

“What?” I asked.

“Are you hungry?”

Before I could even think of an answer, my stomach thought of one for me.

Mark’s laughter added to my annoyance, but I chose to stay silent.

“I know where we should go.”

<><><><><><><><><><><><>

“Boss, what are we planning to do?” Johnny asked following his colleagues as they journeyed down the East wing’s halls.

“Do you think that we can mislead them by giving them fake information or something?” Yuta half-asked half-suggested.

“Not an option,” Taeil chimed in.

“Exactly. If Wayv has complete access to Taeil’s laptop, then they already know that we’ve found them out. The only thing we can do now is destroy it and initiate the emergency systems.” Jaehyun stopped before looking to Taeil.

“Unless you think you’d be able do anything.”

“Sorry, boss. That’s a no go. They’re already ten steps ahead of me if they managed to hack into my computer system and if they know that we’ve discovered their presence, they’re probably working to get twenty steps ahead as we speak.”

“Then it’s settled,” Jaehyun began as he and his men turned the corner entering the kitchen.

“We’ll incinerate the laptop before we-”

Jaehyun’s words came to a sudden halt as he found himself staring at Y/N and Mark sitting and eating on the kitchen counter.

“What do you think? I was right, huh?” Mark asked, handing me the packet of gummy candy we were sharing.

“Hmmm. I don’t know, I kind of like the sour apple ones better than the watermelon.”

“Psh, whatever. More for me I gue- Boss!”

I turned towards the group of men who had entered the kitchen. When my eyes landed on the man who was responsible for my wrecked state, I froze.

“What is this?” Jaehyun demanded as he approached us.

Despite knowing that the question was directed more towards Mark than at the both of us, I still struggled to form anything even close to resembling a coherent thought. I had just watched this man get into it with Winwin without personally feeling the slightest ounce of fear, but now his aggression was being directed towards me and Mark. I hadn’t noticed until Mark started speaking that he must have felt the same way.

“I umm we-”

“I instructed Mark to take Y/N to the kitchen to get her some food,” Taeyong winked.

Jaehyun turned back towards the redhead that was standing behind him.

“Well let’s hope for your sake and theirs that they didn’t say anything of any importance while sitting only one room away from our little problem.”

“Huh? What problem?” Mark inquired more curious than fearful at this point.

Instead of answering, Jaehyun motioned for Doyoung to come closer. After whispering in his ear and pointing towards the living room, Doyoung nodded and left for the nearby room.

“Taeil and Yuta, go catch Mark up on everything upstairs” Jaehyun ordered.

“As for you,” Jaehyun rumbled, turning his head towards Winwin.

“Until we know for sure what’s going on, Johnny will be tasked with staying by your side. Johnny, make sure you keep an eye on him.”

“Um. I can watch him boss,” Yuta volunteered.

Jaehyun immediately shook his head.

“Johnny will be in charge of watching Winwin and that’s final. I need you to help Taeil explain the situation to Mark in terms that he’ll understand. Am I clear?”

“Yes, sir.” Yuta acquiesced.

Mark hopped off the countertop and offered me up a sympathetic look before heading off with his colleagues.

It was just us three now. I could hear my heart beating in my chest. It only made me more anxious as I feared that he could hear it too and that he might end my life just to rid himself of the bothersome sound.

I kept my eyes glued to the floor as to not disrespect the man in front of me. I wasn’t going to risk pissing him off any more than I already had, not while my skin was still splashed with shades of blue and violet.

I could sense his stare and though I was fearful of the consequences that would arise might my eyes meet his, I couldn’t suppress my curiosity for more than a few brief moments and so I surrendered to his gaze. Though I had expected to see a look of rage, what I was met with instead was that of confusion. He looked over my body as though examining an antique he was trying to set a fair price for. It wasn’t the most objectifying look I had received. Far from it, in fact, but I couldn’t help but feel self-conscious under his scrutinizing gaze. I had no idea what was going on. Now that they found out what happened with me and Lucas, NCT 127 had no use for me anymore and Jaehyun was probably thinking of what to do with me. If he was going to kill me, wouldn’t he have done it by now? Perhaps he had something else in store for me. Was this pink haired mob boss contemplating whether I’d be profitable if he were to sell me as a sex slave?

“Those clothes,” He growled.

I blinked a few times, waiting for him to finish his thought.

“Take them off.”

“W-what?” I stuttered aghast.

“Boss?” Taeyong quirked, voice riddled with concern.

“I said, take them off. Now.” His voice boomed.

My already uneven breathing quickly turned into full on hyperventilation. I looked for an exit hoping to find any way out of the mess that I was in, but it was no use. My heart was beating faster than a rabbit whose foot was caught in the teeth of a large predator. Adrenaline filled my veins, yet I was too fearful to use it. I was frozen in place, unable to think, speak, or move even an inch. The familiar sight of black dots began to dull my vision until there was nothing else to be seen.

“Shit!” Taeyong cursed as he scrambled to my side.

“What the hell was that?!” He shouted as he checked to make sure the fall didn’t do any serious damage.

“Those clothes,” Jaehyun muttered bitterly. “They’re IU’s.”

“So?! Just because you don’t like seeing someone else wear IU’s clothing doesn’t mean you can just order them to strip, Jaehyun! Do you have any idea what she must have been thinking?”

“She’s not just someone else. She’s the girl who’s involved in IU’s death.”

“No, she’s not, Jae. You saw Wayv’s message. Her story was true,” Taeyong stood up from Y/N’s side. He was practically yelling at his boss.

“You don’t know that. She could be working with them!”

Taeyong grabbed Jaehyun by the shoulders.

“Snap out of it, Jae! Stop looking at her like she’s the person who killed your sister and start seeing her for what she is, one of Lucas’ victims, just like your sister. No, actually. Scratch that. You should start thinking of her as the girl who killed the man who killed your sister because that being the case, maybe you should thank her instead of doing whatever the hell it is you think you’re doing!”

Taeyong immediately regret the words as they left his mouth, but it was too late. He braced himself for whatever reaction Jaehyun would have to his verbal lashings, but he wasn’t prepared for his boss’s lack of a reaction.

Jaehyun scowled at his second in command before looking at the hands that still held onto his shoulders. Taeyong noticed this and immediately released his hold on the mob boss in front of him. Jaeyong continued to stare at Taeyong as he contemplated his words.

“Then what do you suppose we do with her?” He asked through gritted teeth.

Taeyong took a step back and looked down at my unconscious body.

“She doesn’t know that much about what’s going on so letting her go wouldn’t harm us in any way, but with Wayv after her, she’s not exactly safe anywhere but here.”

Jaehyun’s eyes, which had previously been glued to Taeyong were now gazing at the figure laying on the kitchen floor. After a few moments of silence, Jaehyun sighed.

“Put her in one of the spare bedrooms while we figure this all out,” He decided, hands rubbing at his temples.

“Yes sir.” Taeyong lifted my body off the ground in a less than graceful sweep.

“And send someone to get her some clothing. I won’t have her wearing any more of IU’s things.”

“Yes sir.”

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