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jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue · 3 years

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I can’t betray you - Hoseok mafia au Drabble

Part 1 of 2 | angst, guns, mentions of crime and murder but nothing graphic

“I’m telling you this isn’t a good idea,” you say again as the female detective tapes the wire to your skin underneath your dress.

“You don’t have much of a choice but to cooperate Miss L/n,” Detective Lee answers with a gruff uncaring voice, he could potentially sending you into your coffin but he didn’t give a shit, you weren’t a human being in his eyes, you couldn’t have been, what type of person dates Jung Hoseok? Correction, dated.

“I haven’t seen him for 2 years and you’re sending me in as if he won’t put a bullet through my head,” you grit your teeth, the detective’s demeanour pissing you off, you didn’t want to do this. “He isn’t going to tell me anything.”

Lee Wooyoung sighs as if you were a migraine in human form, taking an envelope out of his pocket before handing it to you. You look at it confused as you take it, it didn’t feel like money, and if it were you’d throw it in his face. He watches you in such a way that makes you feel like he could see into your very soul and you hated it, you didn’t want this prick anywhere near you.

You sigh back with just as much hate as you open the stupid envelope, refusing to break the stare match you both have going on until it’s contents are out. Your heart drops to the floor, and you force yourself to bite back tears so you don’t cry in front of this fucking insensitive jerk. He doesn’t miss the glint of light in them when your gaze comes back to him with nothing but unfiltered hate.

“I think we know what we’re doing Miss L/n,” is all he says before he leaves, and only when he’s out of the room do you let a single tear drop.

You don’t notice the female detective’s concerned look as she finishes fixing your dress, you only stare at the photograph that bastard gave you. The one of you sitting on Hoseok’s lap laughing with him, you remember that night at the bar, the two of you carefree, happy, feelings you haven’t felt since you left him. The hurt shouldn’t feel so raw after two years, but you felt the bandage open to reveal nothing healed with time.

“Are you okay?” Krystal asks, genuinely. You decide you like her despite her partner from hell, but you can only nod numbly.

——————————————————————————

He’s in the same bar, you can see him in front of you, sitting on the barstool nursing his drink. You don’t hear the loud music, the drumming of your heart was beating louder than anything that surrounded you.

His right hand man and bodyguard notices you first, you can see his jaw drop in your peripherals but your gaze is fixed on the man you loved two years back. You can see Zelo’s lips move as he calls for his boss, you watch as Hoseok looks at him with a frown and your anxiety grows as time slows down and he finally looks at you.

You beg your eyes not to water as you take in the sight of your ex lover, the man you ran away from when things got too hard. You’ll never forget that night, you’ll never forget how much your stubborn words hurt him, and it seemed neither would he.

You don’t miss his jaw clench after the initial wave of shock, the hard set of his eyes that pinned you where you stood. You’re breathing heavily, unable to move. You wanted to turn around, you wanted to leave, but a new body behind you let you know you had no choice but to move forward. You gulp as his one of his men pushes you gently towards his Boss, not a glimpse of his hard stare faltering as you take a step.

He doesn’t say a word when the distance closes, and you find your own voice gone. You can’t hold his gaze, you let yours fall to the floor. Why was your bottom lip trembling like this, in front of the man you wanted to look strong in front of, the one man that could break you with just his eyes.

He turns away from you back to the bar, his hand grips his glass so strong Zelo winces as if it’s about to break. He takes a swing, ignoring you as the whiskey only fuels his rage rather than soothe it. His stern demeanour doesn’t change, he needed a moment that was it. He was fighting with the part of himself that wanted to take you into his arms, tensing his muscles to stop himself until he knew what you wanted, but even still, he wasn’t sure he could let you leave again, no matter what the reason was you were here. He spent the last two years as a ghost of who he was without you, his men havent seen him crack a smile since you left, they thought you took his essence with you, and now his closest men hoped you brought it back.

Their gazes flicker between you and their boss, anticipating your next step. They used to be close to you too, a big dysfunctional family until you found out Hoseok’s real occupation.

They watch you let out a big breath, the telltale signs of you gathering your strength and bracing yourself. You take the seat beside Hoseok, placing your bag on the counter as you make eye contact with John, the owner/bartender and offer him a small smile. He looks between you and the man beside you with worry as he dried a glass, ignoring the customer who called his name.

You hold your hand in the air pinching your thumb and finger and swishing it subtly, you watch his eyes narrow in question, before you put your index finger against your lips. Thank goodness for John and his quick brain, you can see the understanding in his eyes as his face returns to worry.

You turn to the man who’s jaw had yet to relax in your presence, he refused to look at you, nostrils flaring with every angry breath he took. He can’t even tell you why he’s angry, why his entire body is consumed with rage, but you know the reason, it’s obvious to you. It’s the same reason you had the exact response when you found out who he really was, he hurt you, and when you left him, you hurt him too. Pain caused by love causes an angry shield to grow so you don’t get hurt again, you knew that, so you tried not to take his harsh demeanour to heart.

Tried to and failed, it shouldn’t pierce you like this, but it did. You realise you would have to be the first to speak, you were both as stubborn as each other, but you were the one that needed to fold this time. His hand is still gripping the now empty glass on the bar, your eyes flicker to it for a moment, noticing the white of his knuckles.

“H-hoseok,” the second the sound of his name leaves your lips the glass shatters in his hand, startling you and his men as blood poured out of each cut the way paint drips from a brush, but he doesn’t flinch.

He ignores the cries of worry from his men, waving them away as his stare turns back to you. He watches the way your tears drop silently as you glance at his hand before coming back to meet his eyes. He doesn’t miss your sniffle, doesn’t miss the way you clench your jaw to mirror his as you try to ground your emotions.

You had to keep on track, the police were outside and listening to everything, if they didn’t think you could handle it… Well, detective dumbass made it clear what would happen.

John sighs as he brings the first aid box, he was used to things turning bloody with Jung Hoseok as his best customer, he was always prepared. Instead of giving it to the scary mafia boss though, he gives it to you expectedly, finally returning the small smile you graced him with earlier. John was there from the beginning of your budding relationship, he watched every fight and every make up and every date you idiots had in this place. He can’t remember the countless times he told Hoseok to tell you the truth, knowing you were going to react badly if you heard it from elsewhere… well, John didn’t say ‘I told you so’ out loud, he let his eyes do it instead.

You hesitate as you slide the box closer to you, opening it to retrieve the medical forceps, looking up at the bleeding man as he raised his eyebrow at you. He knows what you want, the corner of his lips twitching as they tried to smirk but he fights it, you weren’t going to break through his defences this easily, no matter how much his heart wanted it. He grants you your silent wish, bringing his wounded hand closer to you as he turned on the barstool to face you too.

You ignore the way your thighs touch, ignore the electricity that ran from him to you, the tingling warmth that worked its way up from your skin, you pretended you felt none of it, and so did he.

He doesn’t wince once as you take out the glass, eyes boring a hole into your skull as he fought the urge to pull you closer like he used to when he came home with some injury he had to lie about when you were together.

“Why are you here y/n?” He finally speaks, voice deep and calm as the rage in him started to settle. He hears your sharp intake of breath at the sound of his voice, the way you falter for a moment as you worked on his cuts.

“I wanted to see you,” you exhale, the words feel bitter in your mouth.

“After two years?” he scoffs, and you can’t find it in you to respond, nodding silently instead. “I looked for you every-”

He finally winces, sucking air between gritted teeth as you clean his cuts with the antiseptic solution on a cotton ball. His features soften as he watches you bend down to blow gently on his hand, not wanting to cause him any more pain than you already had, despite all the pain he caused you. Your breath on his skin sends shivers down his spine, the ghost of your touch igniting memories he’s been replaying in his mind for years, now so close within reach and yet out of his grasp. You were the only thing that made him feel powerless, he didn’t think he was capable of the emotion until you left.

“I didn’t want to be found,” you don’t expect your voice to sound so hoarse as it does. He doesn’t say anything to that as he takes in the weight of your words, the obvious elephant in the room remains unaddressed, and you’re surprised he’s not demanding an explanation. He frowns at you instead, and the way you’re avoiding his gaze. He knew you like the back of his hand, some things don’t change even after a couple of years away.

When you’re done bandaging him up you finally notice the pen John had bought you after your impromptu charade session earlier, sighing in relief that he understood your strange gesture. You pull the napkin between you both, eyes finally meeting his after you write on it, sliding it closer to him wordlessly.

I’ve got a wire

His eye brows go up as does his anger again, those fucking bastards, using his Angel against him. The thought dissipates as it rises, you weren’t his anymore, which meant the only reason you were here was because of them and not because you wanted him back.

He nods at you once, understanding what you wanted, what you needed from that pleading look in your eyes. He takes your hand in his uninjured one, not missing the way your heart rate accelerated as his fingers brushed against your pulse point. Some things truly didn’t change.

“Well as happy as I am about this reunion, I unfortunately have work to do, we have a shipment in gangnam in an hour,” he says to the confusion of his men that still surrounded you with their backs to you both. He clears his throat before he speaks again, and this time you know his words aren’t for show, “will I see you again?”

His every defence came down in front of you as he asked that, you could see it in the way his gaze met yours with an ache and longing you felt too. A glimpse of the man you fell in love with, the man who’s heart you tore out. You shake your head no, as your bottom lip quivered, you hadn’t forgiven him yet. You didn’t think you could.

His hope was minuscule to start with and yet your answer still broke it further. The problem was now you were back, he didn’t think he could let you go.

“Where are you staying?” He asks instead. “Zelo can drop you off.”

You can see through it straight away, shaking your head again to tell him he wouldn’t win this one. After you ripped off this stupid wire you’d be running again, this time away from two groups of people.

You stand up to leave, ignoring the voice in your head that begged you to stay, berating that part of your brain that loved him regardless of everything. He pulls you to stand in between his legs, you hate how your body feels so comfortable so close to him, that ache you’ve been fighting for two years resurfacing into a tsunami.

You can’t meet his gaze until he makes you, fingers gentle on your chin. You can feel your heart in your throat with the way he looks up at you, still so full of love two years later, and you’d be a liar if you said you didn’t feel the same.

“Don’t you think we should talk this out properly Angel?” he whispers, hands caressing your cheek and you close your eyes against him. Your hands itched to hold onto him, touch him, close the distance completely between you both. This is why you avoided him completely, your defences reduced to nothing with him near. “There are still so many wounds open baby, talk to me.”

You shake your head, no, you didn’t want to talk about this. You were fine with not healing, you didn’t want to revisit the topic of why you walked out.

“Is there someone else?” You don’t know which emotion fills his voice more, the utter heart break of the thought of you and someone else, or that possessive tilt that was pissed that someone else had the audacity to touch you when you were always his.

He didn’t care you weren’t together, the bond you both made was not to be cut easily, even now two years later look at the state of you both. He could see how you were fighting the way you wanted to melt into his touch, into him. That frown of your eyebrows when he mentioned another, that subtle clench of your jaw. He could see your thoughts, he didn’t need to hear them.

“We broke up two years ago Hoseok,” you reply, refusing to open your eyes, and he knew why. “So what if I do?”

That physical distance you’ve been keeping or your sake of mind disappears the second he grips your hip and pulls you against him. The sudden action makes you open your eyes in shock, your own hand clutching onto his shoulders to steady yourself as you fall into him. You think he can feel your heart pounding on his chest with how hard it’s beating.

“You’re the only one for me Y/n,” he says sincerely, “it’s always been you.”

You try to scoff as you push away from him, turning to look away before he can see the tears, but he doesn’t let you go.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be the type of man you wanted,” he continues but his words make your blood boil.

“I didn’t give a shit about that,” you pierce him with your eyes, no one would get away with the way you were looking at him, they’d have a bullet in their head if they tried. “You lied to me for years Hobi, for years you played me for a dumb fucking fool, do you even understand how that made me feel? All that trust we built gone in a second because you didn’t love me enough to tell me, and I had to find out by being dragged to the police station to get interrogated about your crimes.”

Yes, you’re crying, but they’re angry tears. All those emotions you’ve kept at bay for two years bursting like a fire as you relive that moment the detective at the time put Hoseok’s photo in front of you, a stone face of a man you thought you knew holding a gun to someone’s head.

“And I looked at them like an idiot,” you don’t know whether you were laughing or sobbing. “At least I didn’t have to lie, they asked me if I knew you, and I never knew you at all.”

“Baby-” he tries but you cut him off.

“Stop it,” firm tone, firm resolve, you needed to leave. You try to push his arms off you but he doesn’t let go. He moves closer instead, burying his head into you neck. “You don’t get to do this, you lied to me, you deal with the consequences, I am not coming back.”

You freeze when you feel something wet on your shoulder, the heat of your anger fading with each drop you felt. You shouldn’t feel guilty, why were you feeling guilty? You could shake the feeling that now sat heavy in the middle of your chest, sinking slowly.

“I don’t think I can let you go,” he mumbles low against your skin, but you hear every word. “You’ve punished me for two years Y/n, let me fix it.”

——————————————————————————-

Taglist : @nlost21 @pb-n-juju @needyomnivore @lvpersona @marvelfamily3000 @love2lovesworld

#bts drabble #bts scenario #bts mafia!au #bts fanfiction #bts gang au #bts imagines #bts mafia #bts au #bts x reader #hoseok x reader #hoseok au #hoseok angst #hoseok mafia au #bts angst #bts fluff #bts fanfic

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thememestho · 2 years

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＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ 911 fox sentence meme

enjoy this overly extra sentence meme series. episode 2.18 (part 27 of ?)

I'm having some trouble hearing you.

No! That's my dog!

He's not my mailman. My mailman's Larry.

You got to help me here.

Fire in the hole.

Why didn't you say something?

I don't like tuna fish. Am I under arrest?

These false alarms are almost more nerve-wracking than the real thing.

Maybe the whole thing is a false alarm.

You're picking a cake but haven't even decided on the venue?

I still don't understand why you guys are doing a stupid wedding.

I don't want to wear a tux.

Tuxedos are stupid. And plus, I'm way too old to be a ring bearer.

He is growing up way too fast.

His mom was pretty brave, too.

_____, we're not doing this.

It's not that simple. I'm still a probationary firefighter. I'm so close to earning my shield.

You want me to just throw away the last year of my life?

We have a life here, and family.

We are sitting right here.

Being with me is what’s best for ______.

I chose this life for a reason.

You can choose another one.

Yeah? Well, folks got the Internet now. If they want to see dumb people doing stupid things, they can just get it for free online.

Will you quit your complaining?

I'm gonna give 'em a show.

Right now, I'm looking at a useless heap of rusted junk... and then there's the car.

Yeah? Well, if it means I'd get one single minute of peace and quiet... so be it.

I think this bitch is finally getting her revenge!

Be careful what you do, okay?

Just be quiet. Be quiet!

"She," damn it! The car is a she!

Any chance you can get me loose without cutting the hair? It's kind of my trademark, you know?

You know, this isn't even the worst he's been hurt.

Like hell you are!

Setting you on fire, now that would be a glorious blaze.

Oh, God, don't let him die, you guys. I love the bastard.

I swear to you, honey, if I get out of this alive, I'll never do a reckless thing ever. I'm done with that life.

____, you son of a bitch!

And the view. You cannot put a price on that.

Open floor plan. Touch of modern. A little raw. I see the potential.

This would be my first place all on my own.

Oh. I assumed you'd be living here together.

We're just not quite at that stage yet.

We're at the stage where I'm ready for his man cave to get a little more natural light.

Better than a hotel.

I mean, I'm, like, totally reeling from all that travel, but, you know, that's the life I chose.

Putting myself out there to find you guys next-level products to make you look and feel beautiful, even when I don't. 'Cause you see this?

What are we looking for, exactly?

I mean, I did just get back from Belize.

Oh. Are you sure?

It's a science project, Dad. He didn't, like, get into MIT.

I've been in his courtroom more than once.

Are you gonna take it with you?

Could be some valuable evidence inside that box.

That was it?

Hey, I got here as fast as I could. They wouldn't let me down the street.

The woman doesn't look familiar. Not her name or her face.

You're not gonna remember every attorney you've ever met.

Do you remember working an arson case about three years back?

I wonder how angry he is now.

I don't know anything about that.

He said you blew up their lives.

You’re new.

He's all alone.

Then how come no one's running in there?

Get me the captain! Where's the captain?!

He wants me.

He wants you dead!

Let's give him what he wants.

I'm here now.

How far away are you?

He's got parents, a sister, a girlfriend, and he never did anything to you.

Is that how you see yourself? An unintended victim in all this?

You got dealt a bad hand, and I am sorry about that. But what you did with it... that's a choice.

We were all doing our jobs.

My mom and I lost everything.

She was in so much pain.

Still with us, ____?

Just hang in there, ____-aroo.

How's he doing, ______?

A great moment for all of us.

You're a fool. But I love you too.

You-You're here.

Of course I'm here.

And you're now the proud owner of one titanium rod and four beautifully cobalt-chromed screws.

Okay, I'm not gonna lie to you and tell you that it's gonna be all right. But I don't think you need to be borrowing trouble, not yet.

So we're into brunettes now.

Thank you for being here.

I would like it noted that he didn't thank either of us.

Girl, I don't think he knows we're still in the room.

Remember when working remotely wasn't even a thing?

The day I'm working from home, our damn house is on fire.

Well, if there's anybody who can strong-arm Mother Nature, it's you.

Are you serious about this?

We weren't sure if we were making the right decision that time either. But there has never been a day I regret choosing being his mom.

You and that man are the two things that get me home every day.

A couple more footsteps stomping around the house might be nice.

I'm kidding. We own it. With the caveat that we are not allowed to flip, crash, or blow her up any time soon.

But I made no promises.

Well, it's kind of hard to fire a guy who was a hero on the 6:00 news.

Not to mention the fiery tweet-storm that'd rain down on their heads, starting with me.

Easy, okay? I don't want you to fall and break the other one.

I am just glad to be out of the hospital.

I miss my own bed... which I won't see for the next three months. Guess I am sleeping down here.

I watched you almost die.

Look, I... It's not like I didn't know you were in a dangerous line of work when I met you, you know, ten stories up of a collapsing high rise.

That was one day... one day of my life, ____. It's every day for you. I'm just starting to really understand what that means.

No, I would never... I would never ask you to do that.

Listen. I know it's who you are.

Hey. I don't know yet. Okay?

Right. What am I doing here?

I asked you if things were ever gonna be the same and you said no.

We're never gonna get back what we would have had. But maybe we could have something else.

You know, you were standing right there when you asked me out on a date, and, uh, I'm not sure I'd ever been so happy... Until right now.

Hey! Whoa, whoa, whoa. Come on, be careful.

Uh, were you gonna sew these two pieces back together? -- I don't think so.

Doesn't mean you had to rip them.

I don't even know why I'm taking you. You shouldn't be on your feet, you need to be healing.

Well, this is more important. If I break anything else, they can just fix that, too, with the other stuff.

They want me to have another surgery. Uh, doctor wasn't happy with what he saw on the X-rays, so he wants to go back in and... replace the rod and do some bone grafts.

I mean, if it's just healing slower than expected, you could just wait a few weeks.

So the doctor does want you to wait. You should listen to him.

No, being a firefighter is my life. It is the, the only thing I have ever done that was important and that mattered, okay?

Without that, I-I-I don't have...

There are lots of other important things that you can do with your life.

People assume we choose this life. I'm not so sure. Sometimes I think this life chooses us.

An emergency is the absence of choice.

But in those moments of darkness... and fear, we call out to the light up ahead, to the people we love.

We steal back that choice, and we choose each other.

Figured you'd be going home to sleep after your shift.

And if there's one thing you and I know, it's that today is the only thing you can be sure of.

#rp memes #rp sentence memes #rp sentence prompts #rp inbox memes #rp starters

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hellowkatey · 3 years

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I refuse to believe the droid that blew up under tech's ass didn't cause more damage

3.9k words ~ depictions of violence ~ ao3 ~ a little whump for your troubles

"They're using live rounds!" Hunter hisses, and Tech's blood runs cold. Live rounds? The Kaminoans have never resorted to training with live rounds within the simulation chamber. Even at a low power, live rounds have 62% chance of causing extensive damage to the room's durasteel construction, as opposed to the 21% chance with stuns. That does not even account for the monetary loss if a soldier were to lose their life or require medical attention. All in all, it's a horribly irresponsible training tactic. Something has changed. But why? Tech does not have an answer for that.

He looks at Hunter and Echo crouched behind the barrier next to him. "Get Wrecker," Hunter commands, the flurry of bright red blaster shots zooming overhead. "We'll cover you."

Tech offers a single nod in confirmation and eyes the distance to his fallen brother. With cover from both Hunter and Echo, and if he approaches from the opposite side of his barrier, he should have a relatively high chance of success. Assuming he can keep his head down, of course.

Tech makes his way to the barrier closer to Wrecker without issue.

"Wrecker, are you alright?" He asks, his anxiety quelling at the sight of his brother crawling toward him. The shot did not seem to fully penetrate his armor, which is good news. Tech runs out to meet him, grabbing Wrecker by the shoulder to help him get out of the line of fire.

Just in time it seems. One of the trigger-happy droids notices their movement and leaves a trail of carbon scoring in their wake.

Tech and Wrecker collapse against a barrier just as Hunter, Echo, and Crosshair fall back from their previous positions. He can see them approximately eight meters away. Too far to hear any orders without Hunter alerting the droids to their potential plan.

Suddenly their barrier is getting pounded by blasters. The training droids have discovered their hiding place and are firing without mercy. Smoke from the live rounds curl from the other side of the barrier, fogging up Tech's goggles and filling the air with the horrendous scent of burnt plastoid.

Or perhaps that is the smell of Wrecker's melted chest plate. Difficult to tell. Tech is quickly inching toward overstimulation from the deafening shots, heavy footsteps, and smell of smoke assaulting his senses..

He peers around the corner of their hiding space to get an idea of how close the droids are when a shot slams against the corner— far too close to comfort. He recoils just in time, but the heat of the shot still warms the skin between his helmet and blacks. There seems to be no clear break as the line of their attackers moves forward. He and Wrecker are stuck unless the others can help.

A whistle cuts through the sounds of battle. Tech and Wrecker look at their sergeant who waits for their attention before going through a serious of hand signals.

Split up. Cover. Draw fire. Distract and manual take down. Reprogram. Tech nods along, recognizing this particular sequence.

"Oh!" Wrecker exclaims, collapsing dramatically from his crouched position. "I hate hand signals."

"Perhaps if you memorized them," Tech offers, though he knows there is no chance in hell that will ever happen.

"Why don't you memorize them?"

"I have." Tech is more surprised that Wrecker assumed he hadn't. "What we did on Felucia."

Wrecker is on his feet in an instant. "Why didn't you just say that?" He throws a thumbs up to Hunter and the others— the only hand signal they can ever trust Wrecker to remember— and crouches his way to the outskirts of the chamber.

Tech watches as Hunter and Crosshair lay down cover fire, splitting up to spread the attention of the droids. And Echo assumes his ARC trooper role of running head-on into the action. As the droids shoot at his quick run, Wrecker runs up from behind, tackling one of the training droids to the ground with a satisfied laugh.

Also in typical ARC trooper fashion, Echo jumps onto the back of the other droid as though it's an angry rancor he's attempting to ride. And the droid bucks as any rancor would-- until Echo slams his scomp link into its neck, deactivating it all together.

Now it's reprogramming time. Tech runs to meet them, catching Wrecker's eager arm as it moves to punch the fallen droid again.

"Reprogramming this thing will be pointless if you crush it."

Wrecker seems disappointed, but he resists the urge to wreck. "You better be right about this."

Tech ignores the doubt and gets to work in the droid's circuit board. He works as quickly as possible, acutely aware that Hunter and Crosshair are undoubtedly being swarmed by this point.

"Hurry up," Wrecker warns. It is a statement more of worry for their brothers than a critique of Tech's programming speed. With a quick glance at his vambrace monitor, he slams the circuit board shut.

"Done. Let him go."

Wrecker and Echo back off just as the other droids launch a new attack at the site of their droid field surgery. They run for cover. Tech, on the other hand, situates himself on the shoulders of his new pet droid.

If Echo is the rancor rider, then he is the rancor tamer in this analogy.

The droid stands at its full height, nearly throwing Tech off on the way up, but he manages to press his thighs against its head to balance his weight. Shots from the other droids are whizzing past him in growing frequency. He is an easy target at this height and visibility. He needs to work quickly.

Taking control of the droid's weapons, he fires the live rounds back at the combatant droids. While their training blasters were useless against the thick durasteel plated training droids— as they were meant to be in a simulation— the live rounds actually do sufficient damage. He breezes past Echo and Wrecker's battle stations. Instructs his droid to punch the other droids that managed to get past his initial rain of fire. And as he weakens their defenses his brothers move in with vibroblades, perfectly placed stun shots, and raw strength.

A little bit of pride swells in his chest. The tides appear to be turning in their favor. If they can keep up this pace, their outcome will be favorable.

With his vantage point, Tech spots a droid sneaking up on Wrecker, who is otherwise occupied by beating another droid into submission.

"Wrecker, look alive," he warns. Wrecker lets out a sound of confusion before whirring around to find his next victim. It only takes an impressive suplex and Echo jabbing the droid in the neck for the danger to be adverted. But a new danger has begun to emerge.

Warning signs start flashing across Tech's vambrace screen. His rewriting job had to be hasty, which means he did not get the chance to secure every single circuit. His rush may prove to be their downfall as the connection flickers in and out. The droid sways beneath him and he fights to remain on its shoulders.

"I can't sustain the connection," he says through grit teeth. But with two more enemies stalking toward him he has no choice but to hope he can hold on through the end. His droid manages a weak strike against one of the attacking bots, and a few point blank shots in the face of the other. The connection suddenly re-establishes with full strength, and he grins with glee.

But his success is only temporary. His ride jolts backward as a droid from the upper tier manages to shoot right though its chest— right into the main circuitboard, Tech realizes with dismay. He can't do anything but watch as the droid gets hit a few more times and explodes beneath him. The surge of the blast sends Tech flying backward with much more force than would have been a problem had he simply fallen off the droid. His body hits the ground back-first, ripping the air from his lungs. And then he bounces. When he hits it again, the back of his head slams into the durasteel floor and his vision swims with black dots. Tech tries to blink through the cloudiness of his vision, barely aware of somebody yelling his name through the ringing in his ears.

Everything suddenly hurts. The back of his legs are hot and the smell of burnt plastoid is even more putrid than earlier. Considering how long the droid had been engaging in active battle, and the numerous shots straight to the power source... the heat of combustion had to have been fairly significant. Perhaps even sufficient enough to melt his armor, he realizes with a deep groan.

"Tech!" his name reaches him this time. A little clearer. Definitely Wrecker. He tries to lift his head but only succeeds in lobbing it to the side. But it's enough to see Wrecker crouched a few meters away. "Hold tight, buddy."

Tech can see the consistent shower of blaster shots still thick in the air. It is a full-on battlefield tucked within the confines of Kamino's training facility.

"I'm..." he starts to say, attempting to assure Wrecker that he's okay, but even the act of raising his arm and head is enough to send a jolt of pain down his back and limbs. His vision blurs again and he suddenly is whipped by exhaustion. His adrenaline has finally dropped off and it is pulling him down with it. Tech collapses back on to the ground, letting out a shaky sigh. "...not going anywhere."

He wants to help. But he runs the numbers in his head even as the aura of a migraine starts to dance before his eyes. With the number of droids and taking into account their individual firepower abilities paired with handicaps that come from limited programming and movement, Tech calculates that they have a 46% chance of success without his help.

They've won on lesser odds.

And when he takes into consideration the alternate scenario of him pushing through his current injuries and attempting to aid them in completing the simulation, their chance of success actually reduces to 41%. He knows his presence would distract the rest of his squad, or introduce a number of uncertain variables he is too tired to take into account at the moment.

Well, the math does not lie, he thinks, and lets his eyes flutter shut.

Wrecker watches Tech's body go limp and he seriously considers running at that last droid and tearing its head clean off with his bare hands. His youngest brother mutters something he can't really hear— whatever it is, his voice is pinched with pain. Not a good sign.

This needs to end now.

As though Crosshair was reading his mind, the sniper appears out of nowhere with his rifle at the ready. (Sometimes Wrecker wonders if he really can read minds. It wouldn't surprise him.)

"Wrecker, knife!" he yells. He has no idea what Cross is gonna do, but he unsheathes his knife and throws it in the air with a backspin. Crosshair shoots and strikes his knife mid-air, sending it blade first straight between the eyes of the last droid.

"Wow," he says in amazement.

There's a moment of quiet after the droid falls. Wrecker stands at his full height, still in awe that Cross managed to actually get that shot! He knows his brother's aim is impressive but wow— sometimes it's just next level.

Wrecker suddenly remembers Tech still lying next to the burnt leftovers of his pet droid. He and Echo rush to his side. Though Tech has pushed himself to a sitting position, Wrecker has enough experience with explosives and getting too close to them to notice how his brother refuses to let the back of his legs touch anything. On top of if, he saw the way his head bounced against the floor. Wrecker's no medic, but he knows a solid hit to the noggin when he sees one. Tech's usually sharp eyes are unfocused. The smears of carbon scoring across the lenses aren't helping, so he tries to wipe it away with his gloves. He only succeeds in making the smearing worse, but what worries him more is that his younger brother didn't react like he usually does when anyone tries to touch his goggles. Usually he jerks away, insists he can fix them himself. But now he's just... staring at nothing. It sends a spike of worry through Wrecker's large body.

As they attempt to pull him to his feet, he glances down at the state of Tech's armor. A shutter runs up his spine.

It's not good. He can't tell if the red that is dripping down Tech's boots and onto the floor is from his melted armor or blood... neither is a good sigh. And as soon as he and Echo get Tech to his feet, he immediately starts swaying to the side. Wrecker catches him under the arms, hearing a low hiss of pain and wondering if he should let him lie back again.

"Tech, are you okay?" Hunter asks as he and Crosshair make it to their position.

Tech's reply is very not-Tech like. A low groan. Not a single word. But he shifts his weight to his feet and gently pulls out of Wrecker's grasp to stand on his own.

"Techy you don't have to--"

"We're being watched," Crosshair interrupts. Wrecker looks up and realizes that Tarkin guy and Lama Su are still watching from the viewing gallery.

A part of him is glad they can't see the death stare on his face for shooting live rounds— live rounds!— at them.

Another part of him wants to give them a piece of his mind.

But as they disappear from sight, it becomes very obvious that Tech was only standing for their benefit. This time, his knees buckle and he falls forward. Hunter and Crosshair both lunge to catch him.

"He's out," Hunter says as they gently lower him to the ground. Now the overhead lights shine down on Tech's back and all of them freeze.

"Shit," Crosshair curses. The explosion melted his armor for sure. But what concerns them all is the mess of raw skin and melted blacks behind his knees and at his ankles. "Where the hell is medical?"

For some reason, when Tech awoke he expected to be staring at the ceiling of a med tent. It is a natural association to make in his newly conscious state. He suffered an injury due to an explosion, which is usually a scenario that is only possible in an active battlefield situation.

Hence, why seeing the sterile white ceiling of the Kamino ceiling sent him into a momentary panic. Did they cart me straight back to Kamino from the battlefield? Am I that injured? Does this mean I am being decommissioned?

He begins to try and sit up, but strong hands press down on his chest. It takes a few rounds of blinking to clear the tears that have welled up in his eyes. Echo and Crosshair stand on either side of his bed. Still in their armor. Both wide-eyed and looking quite exhausted as they attempt to calm him.

"Breathe, Tech," Echo says, demonstrating by drawing in his own large breath and slowly releasing it through his pursed lips. Tech imitates him until the tightness in his chest subsides. And he remembers.

A simulation. We were doing a training exercise. I was sitting atop the shoulders of a droid and... the droid combusted.

Right. Suddenly the numbness in his legs and the dull bite of a waning migraine make sense.

"Did we win at least?" Tech asks, looking between Crosshair and Echo.

"You don't remember?" The sniper asks carefully.

Tech remembers falling. A white hot pain. And then a lot of yelling and a lot of darkness.

"My current memory of the end of the exercise seems to be a bit... murky."

Echo and Crosshair exchange glances.

"We destroyed all the droids," Echo says finally.

"Wrecker was pleased about that part," the sniper mutters.

"So we won then. That's good." Both of them are silent for a long moment. Long enough that Tech replays their conversation up to that point wondering if he said something incorrect. From his point of view, there has been nothing that would offend either of them. So why they are acting so strange is beyond his understanding, unless they are withholding other context from while he was unconscious. "...isn't it?"

Finally Crosshair clears his throat. "None of us would consider you getting blown up a mission success, Tech."

"Well, technically, I didn't blow up, the droid—"

"Technically, nothing," Crosshair snaps at him. Echo glares at the sniper but doesn't exactly try to correct his outburst. "Either way, you got hurt."

Oh. So they are worried about his condition. For the first time since he's woken up, Tech cranes his head to look down at himself. He's in a thin, medical gown. No wonder he was feeling a bit of a draft. His bare legs are completely wrapped in thick bacta strips. That explains the numbness as well.

"How... bad?"

"Not as bad as it looks," Echo admits. "Mostly second-degree burns on your legs with a few small spots of third degree burns. No concussion and no grafts needed. Doc said after this round of bacta they'll rewrap and we can take you back to the barracks. It'll just feel like you have a bad sunburn for a few days."

That's good news at least. He does feel much better. Not in terrible pain like before, though Tech suspects the IV in his arm might have something to do with that.

"You passed out after the simulation," Crosshair says with a haunted stare.

"From the pain, I assume?"

"Also from the adrenaline dump." Echo shrugs. "We all came out of that with shaky legs."

"Speak for yourself," Crosshair mutters but Echo ignores him.

"None of us expected to fight for our lives today."

All of them can agree on that. Speaking of fighting for their lives, Tech realizes it's just the three of them. He looks to the beds at his left and right and find that they're empty. The memory of watching Wrecker's body crumble after getting shot flashes through Tech's mind and he tries to sit up again. This time Crosshair presses his hand against his back and helps him up.

"Where's Wrecker and Hunter? Are they alright?"

"Wrecker also had a burn on his chest, but they discharged him already. Hunter is with him," Echo smiles. "I think Wrecker said something about being hungry."

"Well, we didn't get much of a meal before this," Crosshair says bitterly.

Tech finally relaxes back into the pillow. His brothers are all safe, he's going to be discharged soon, and they completed their training exercise. It's a much better outcome than he expected from waking up in the med wing.

After his bacta is changed, Echo helps him into a fresh pair of blacks while Crosshair grabs his armor. The shirt is no problem, but the tight-fitting pants prove to be a more difficult feat.

"Maybe we can go get you a looser pair," Echo suggests as Tech has to literally bite down on his own lip to distract himself from the discomfort. Even with the barrier of bandages, the thick material feels scratchy against his sensitive skin. So bad that shivers run up his spine and he begins to feel a little nauseous.

"No," Tech pushes Echo's hand away. Honestly, the very thought of the pants having to peel back down his leg is worse than the idea of keeping them on. "I'll adjust." Echo seems hesitant but he doesn't fight him further. Tech gets his armor on-- sans the pieces that were melted in the explosion, of course. Those will require a trip to the armory to replace. (But he is not exactly jumping at the idea of restraining his swollen legs right now, anyway.)

"Ready?" Crosshair asks, though his facial expression looks as though he won't believe a word that comes out of Tech's mouth no matter what.

"Indeed."

They walk slowly back to the barracks, taking the long route to pick up Hunter and Wrecker from the caf. For the first few corridors, the scratchy feeling is agonizing. He has to walk with stiff legs to avoid bending his knees too much. It earns him his fair share of strange looks from the regs that pass, though they usually look at him like he was some sort of abomination, so it doesn't bother him. (Tech hypothesizes it has something to do with his goggles and how they stick out of his helmet. Makes him look quite different from even his own squad.)

But as they reach the caf, the stinging has begun to fade. His body is adjusting, as he predicted. The pain receptors in his legs are finally recognizing that it isn't a stimulus worth the trouble to continue griping about. He manages to bend his knees just enough that his stiffness isn't so obvious, more of a limp.

Wrecker's joyful tone rings out as soon as they grow near to the cafeteria. The largest of their brothers appears around the corner, his face brightening as he breaks into a run. "Tech!" Echo and Crosshair are quick to jump in and stop him from body slamming Tech.

"Easy, Wrecker, you know better than any of us how it feels to get blown up," Crosshair says before stepping aside for Wrecker to pull Tech into a bear hug. He sees Cross glance at Echo and then smirk. "Well, maybe that's not true. Echo here might have us all beat."

The former ARC trooper rolls his eyes. "Very funny."

Wrecker releases Tech. Somehow without aggravating his burns too badly. He is glad he opted to wear his helmet instead of carrying it. The mask hides his wince as pain shoots up his legs when Wrecker drops him back on the floor. "I'm so glad you're okay!"

"As am I," he replies sheepishly. They start to make their way back toward their barracks. "Though I hardly blew up, it was merely a droid overheating."

"Did it have smoke and fire?" Wrecker asks.

"Minimal, but yes."

"Did it make a boom sound?"

"Well I'm not sure I would classify--"

"And did you get thrown really hard and burn your butt off?"

Tech sighs. "Perhaps."

Wrecker shrugs with a smug grin, looking around at the others. "You may be the expert on most things, Tech, but I know explosions. And that sounds a lot like an explosion to me."

Crosshair chuckles, his face in its usual sneer as he pats Tech's shoulder pauldron.

"It's alright," Echo whispers to him as Wrecker starts a loud tangent about getting shot at. "Means you get to be a part of the Got Blown Up Club. Meetings are bimonthly."

Not exactly a club Tech expected to be joining at a battle simulation. But then again, when do things ever go right for their squad in normal circumstances? He is curious to see what justification they had for such an irresponsible stunt. Tech has a sinking feeling Tarkin and Echo's claim that he hates clones has something to do with it.

#newly inducted member of the got blown up club #im a posting fiend right now apparently #not quite late night posting hours but close #the bad batch #tech #echo #wrecker #crosshair #hunter #tech whump #Kate writes #the bad batch b-side #1x01 aftermath

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nyx-aira · 3 years

Text

When two worlds collide

Summary: When Wanda finally snaps and attacks the S.W.O.R.D base, she doesn't expect they would have inhuman support. While the battle rages on Jimmy, Monica and Darcy discover a secret about their colleague that might save the day.

A/N: I've wrote this after episode five came out but in this version S.W.O.R.D threatens Wanda again and she snaps. This isn't canon compliant, at least not 100%. Also I'm not an expert on magic in the MCU, I just took some of the pieces I remembered and put them in there, so it's probably not canon as well.

TW: mind controlled, brief mention of violence, panic attack

You had been in the lab when it happened. Something had breached the barrier. Looking around you saw that nobody was in the lab with you. You knew Monica was in a meeting with Hayward but you didn't know where Jimmy and Darcy went.

Running out of the building you almost fell to the floor, as if you had ran into a barrier. The air was full with magic, it was everywhere, wearing you down, seeping into your bones, lapping at your strength. You tried to regain your breath but it was as if your lungs were full of honey, making it almost impossible to breathe. It was unbearable.

Looking around, trying to find a familiar face, you grabbed the first agent you saw by the arm and asked what was going on.

"Maximoff has breached the barrier, she's turning our own men against us. Stay inside ma'am, we'll handle it."

Wanda. This wasn't Wanda. You knew her magic, it felt different, like a thunderstorm. Crackling with energy, unpredictable and ever-changing. This, whatever this was, wasn't her, not entirely.

You had known Wanda since you were little, you grew up on the same streets and had benn unseparable, Wanda, you and Pietro. Then Ultron had happened, you had lost the twins as the battle continued to rage on but you had felt their powers all over the city. It had been agony to feel the wave of magic when Wanda cried out. You had felt all of it, her pain, the shock and the rage, so much rage.

Wanda probably thought you were dead as well, thinking you had died in Sokovia all these years ago, but you didn't. She wasn't the only one with abilities, with magic. The only difference, you were born with it, she had been nudged in the right direction by Hydra.

That's why you started running again, following the awful feeling of dread and agony. Hurting you every step you took, sapping at your strength, wearing you down but you continued running. For Wanda.

You rounded another corner when you fell to your knees, that sensation growing stronger the closer you got. Trying to regain your breath you realised someone was taking to you.

"...you okay? Can you get up?"

Blinking up you could make out two people, shaking your head to clear your vision the blurred figures became people. Monica and Darcy, allies, friends, your brain supplied.

"Captain, Doctor." you greeted them, groaning while getting up from the floor.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Monica asked while offering you a hand. "Yeah you look like shit." came the remark from Darcy.

You rubbed your head and dusted off your clothes. "I'm good, don't worry." Looking in the disbelieving faces of your colleagues you couldn't blame them, whatever that was, was sapping up all the magic it could get. So it made sense that normal people wouldn't be affected, they probably didn't even feel a difference. You couldn't imagine how Wanda must be feeling.

"I need to get to her." you heard yourself say before you started to run again, ignoring the calls of your name and the torturous sensation that was making your life a living hell right now. You didn't come far though as you felt a hand grab your shoulder and not so gently halt your attempt at saving your best friend. Turning around you looked in the, now, three concerned faces of your friends.

"Listen I know you believe that this was all a mistake somehow..." Jimmy tried to say but you interrupted him. "It's not her, whatever this is, it's not her." Starting to walk again you heard three sets of footsteps follow you. "What do you mean it's not her?" Darcy prodded. "I can feel it, that's something else." came your curt reply, focusing on the task ahead, trying to shield yourself from the other source of magic you pulled your glamour closer to you. Not ready to show them what was really going on.

"What do you mean you can feel it?" came the cautious question from Monica. "And what something else, is that why you're so affected by what's going on?"

"You have powers too, don't you?"

Turning around you looked at them, you knew you could trust them but there was this nagging feeling in your head that you were losing time, but looking at them again you realised, you couldn't do this alone so you took a deep breath and dropped your glamour, preparing yourself for their reaction.

Taking a deep breath you realised that you were feeling different, the suffocating sensation wasn't as strong and painful anymore, your mind cleared up as well, the feeling of haziness still there but not as present as before.

"Your hands are ...broken...gleaming..?" was Jimmy's confused reaction. Looking down you traced the glowing cracks on your arms, closing your eyes as the familiar feeling of your magic surged through your body. It felt good, after all these weeks, not having to suppress your powers. Taking another breath you willed the glow to go away, only the small white cracks staying visible, you continued marching towards the chaos, your friends not far behind.

"It's a long story but the short version: Wanda isn't the only one with powers here and I probably won't stay as the only magical surprise today."

Continuing your way to the barrier you realised that there were no other agents around, it was completely silent, no sound besides your own footsteps. Something was wrong. The others must have realised that as well, as you could see Monica and Jimmy draw their weapons, Darcy readying her taser. You tapped your foot on the ground, a small wave of energy moving through your surroundings, allowing you to see what your eyes couldn't.

"There's nothing. Not a single person." Scanning your surroundings you started to wonder where all the people went when you hear a deafening bang. Looking at your friends you nod as you all started running towards the noise. It's the sound of gunfire you soon realise and Monica pulled you behind some of the buildings where you could have a good look of what was going on.

You were about 200 meters from the barrier, the open area in front of you a deadly battle. It looked like S.W.O.R.D was fighting their own agents, some being mind controlled, some still with a free will but the numbers were dwindling. Charging into the fight would be a suicide mission, looking at the others they seemed to agree with you. Concern was plastered all over their faces, these people were their colleagues, comrades and friends. Letting your gaze glide through the battle you frantically tried to come up with a plan. You needed to get to Wanda, not having spotted her yet, and try to snap her out of whatever that was. Admittedly the plan wasn't the best but it was the only one you had.

"Can you take her?"

The question snapped you out of your thoughts. "Wanda." Jimmy repeated "Could you beat her in a fight if you had to?"

Now you had the attention of everyone, looking at you with a questioning look. You sighed, rubbing your face, absently tracing the marks on your arms, a nervous habit you had picked up over the years.

"I'd like to believe so. Wanda's raw powers a strong, stronger than mine but its mostly just that, raw strength, raw energy. She isn't properly trained, hasn't worked with other magic users, to my knowledge at least. I was born with these powers, having trained with other sorcerers and mages since I was little. I can tap in energy sources she's probably not even aware of. I'm more in control but she has greater potential." You weren't sure on how big their understanding of magic was, going with Darcy as the one with the most knowledge as she had met some Asgardians.

Magic was alive, it wasn't just something that was simply there. It was in nature, in plants, in trees, in animals, even in humans. Magic was everywhere, you just needed to know how to tap into it. Some drew their power from other dimensions, some used the the power of the Yggdrasil, others used powerful objects as their source of energy and other magic users, including yourself, drew their power from the aether. The aether was an ancient energy source, as old as the planet itself, maybe even older. It was a feral energy, not as defined as the power of the Yggdrasil, it was more difficult to handle as it was closest to nature and the planet. For you it was perfect, the rough, brute, untamed nature of it. Like the stormy see, it's unpredictable, brachial, brute nature was alluring, tempting. You couldn't just use it, you had to work with it, convince it that you were worthy of it's powers. Once you had passed that test your understanding of what was possible would change forever.

The noise of the battle brought you back to reality. Watching the clash you realised that there weren't many S.W.O.R.D agents left standing. Catching a glimpse of red you looked to the far left end of the barrier to see Wanda blast some agents back into the woods.

The woods. You took note of your surroundings and a plan formed in your head. This could actually work, you just needed to get a little bit closer. Getting up from where you were sitting you realised that this was gonna be more difficult then you thought when you felt Monica tackle you to the ground and a spray of bullets hit where seconds ago would have been your head.

"Are you trying to get yourself killed!" she yelled at you but you just pointed to the trees 30 meters in front of you.

"I have a plan but I need to get there."

"In one piece? That's impossible." Darcy exclaimed, fixing you with an incredulous look, Jimmy just shook his head, agreeing with her statement. "If we don't do anything soon there will be no S.W.O.R.D agents left!" You tried to spot Wanda again but could only see the red flares of her magic, at least she hadn't vanished. Seeing the look in Monica's eyes you knew that she agreed with you, they all did. Realising that you needed to do something fast, you told them your plan. They didn't seem thrilled but it was your only option.

Focusing on the task at hand you closed your eyes, preparing yourself for whatever might happen, trying to shield yourself from the sickening feeling of whatever that thing was.

Taking a final breath you opened your eyes to see Monica, Darcy and Jimmy take cover, the scientist giving you an encouraging thumbs up. Looking to the battlefield you tried to blend out all the noise and screams of agony, focusing on your target, the trees and woods surrounding you.

Kneeling to the ground you felt a surge of power flow through your body, welcoming the feeling of the aether, you poured all of your energy into the ground, the presence of the other thing making it harder than it usually was. You felt the ground react to your magic, adapting to your will. The ancient power cursing through your veins and surroundings, making the world slow down, letting you see the battle through different eyes. The soldiers desperately trying not to hurt their friends but realising there's no other way, the mindcontrolled trying to break free of the spell and crying out in agony when they have to hurt their comrades. It was brutal, brutal and beautiful in it's own horrible way. The ground ached when you jumped over the makeshift barricades, groaning and giving in a little bit when you landed in between the trees.

Your magic creating a shock wave, knocking everything down in a 20 meter radius. Looking up from the ground you could feel all eyes on you, the battle had stopped for a moment, everyone staring at the new arrival. As soon as they got out of their trance they started fighting again, charging towards you and the remaining S.W.O.R.D agents. You didn't hear the gunfire when you got up, you didn't feel the bullets trying to hit you when you started walking. Twisting your hand in the air, a shimmering barrier appeared, blocking them off. As you continued to walk into the battle the ground started shaking, cracks started to appear and the trees you had left behind started moving. Groaning and aching as they turned from lifeless vines to enormous giants. Some as high as a three story building, some smaller, they started walking into your direction, steadily going forwards, pushing enemies out of the way with their branch-like arms and shielding your allies.

There were at least six of them, aiding you in your pursuit as you conjured more creatures, small rock giants, trolls and even a small serpent. Making sure they knew what they were doing you started charging in direction of Wanda's red magic, creating cracks in the ground to stop your enemies, you didn't want kill them, just slow them down.

Conjuring a gust of wind to jump the remaining distance you landed in front of Wanda. Looking her in the eyes for the first time in eight years.

If she was surprised to see you she didn't show it, blasting you with a ball of energy. You caught it fairly easy but she just started blasting energy ball after energy ball towards you. Not being able to withstand her assault you threw up a barrier. You didn't want to hurt her, you really didn't but you could feel your shield cracking so you summon a waterspout to knock her back. You both got slammed away from the brute force of the wave, the ground now being covered in a layer of water you froze Wanda to the ground, knowing it wouldn't stop her for too long.

You saw her struggle to blast off the ice, watching her grow more frustrated when it came back stronger than it was before, your spell working against her magic. Cautious you started walking in her direction, wary of her magic and her current state of mind as she grew more agitated every second she was enclosed in the ice. Something was wrong, she could have gotten out of there if she really wanted to in no time. Why was she struggling so much? Getting closer you realised that she was crying, tearing streaming down her face, getting more desperate every second.

"Wanda..." you asked tentatively.

Whipping her head around at the sound of her name she stared at you, mouth hanging agape, not struggling against her bonds anymore. You two were staring at each other, saying nothing.

Suddenly she started shaking her head, letting out a terrified scream. "You're not real, you're not real, you're not real..."

She started repeating the same phrase over and over again, shaking her head, crying, throwing all of her energy into trying to break the ice. Sensing the danger of her actions you made it dissappear, letting her fall into the shallow water. When you looked at her again she was rocking back and forth, still repeating the same phrase over and over again, silent tears streaming down her face.

You crouched down next to her, still keeping a short distance.

"Wanda, I'm here, this isn't fake, please look at me."

She shook her head and an almost not audible "that's what it always says" was heard. "Says who Wanda?" you tried, wanting to dig deeper.

"It's all in my head, it's all in my head. They said I could live my perfect life but it's not true. They lied!" Tears were streaming down your face as well as you pulled her close to you.

Putting your glowing hand on the ground the water started to float, little droplets dancing around in the sky. The tree giants started to walk back to their original positions, shrinking down, becoming normal trees again. The small rock giants burying themselves in the ground, vanishing into the earth. Cracks in the ground the only indicator they were even there. Starting to shimmer and fade away, the trolls gave one last bow in your direction until they too, disappeared. Now the only thing left were you and Wanda, sitting amidst the battle field. S.W.O.R.D agents regaining their free will, getting escorted away by their comrades, happy that their friends were back.

While you were ridding the scene from the marks of the battle Wanda was staring at you in awe.

"It's really you."

"Of course Wands, I promised you I would always come back."

Sniffling she took your hand in hers, examining the glowing marks on your arms, tracing them like you did before the battle.

"I always had a feeling you were special." she whispered, not really believing that you were alive.

"Well what about being special together?" Offering your hand to her you both got up, walking back to the S.W.O.R.D base hand in hand. The small serpent you summoned before slithering towards you, shrinking down until he was wrapped around your finger, molding back into the ring he was before.

Yes there was gonna be a lot to undo but together you were unstoppable, friends by blood but sisters in heart.

#wandavision #wanda maximoff #darcy lewis #jimmy woo #monica rambeau #wanda maximoff & reader #yes yes im really proud of that one

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lunawritingspaceoxoxxx · 3 years

Text

Unresponsive II

Three months

Three

Three months

Y/N thrived in the art world, their first displayed piece expressed the raw feeling of losing a love that was so exciting and heart racing and trying to manage in this bland, cold world. They glanced out towards the concrete jungle, watching people hustle and bustle around; single mothers, business men, ladies of the night, etc. They sighed, walking towards the canvas, rubbing their face as they tried to create anything from this creative funk. They knew this was coming from the trip to the falling out with Jennie, suppressing it until they couldn’t anymore, breaking down from just feeling absolute shit from just everything, they cried for their lost friendship, for Damiano, for everything that they sacrificed to get her. When they first started dating Damiano, they were in college for communications and journalism and for the most part, they enjoyed it for the most part and they thought it was going to stick for the most part and then they met Damiano. He came through like a hurricane, tearing through their world and showing them more than just their little small town as he sent pictures of places that he toured at, sending love letters and expensive jewelry.And they cherished every single one, keeping them in a small box underneath their bed, unable to stand even looking at them. Y/N rolled their neck as they pulled off their shirt, tossing it to the side as they grabbed a paint can as they stared at the blank canvas in determination.

TWO WEEKS LATER

“‘Up and coming painter,Y/N L/N, has been hospitalized at New York’s mental hospital. They’ve been experiencing vivid hallucinations and long periods of mania, breaking the glass of their high rise apartment. One theory is giving a little bit of insight to why they’re acting like this, some say she hasn’t been sleeping well or sleeping at all. They recently did a painting stream and you won’t believe this, for almost 30 hours. Some say that they didn’t move either, to eat or relieve themselves, so they potentially have an eating disorder as well.’'

Ethan scoffed as he changed the channel, tossing the remote to the side. “Lo sa ancora (Does he know yet)?” Ethan questioned as he opened a bottle of liquor, pouring himself a glass along with Thomas and Vic. “No, but he’ll probably know soon, you know he kept tabs on them. I don’t know why though, I’m pretty sure that they’re over with.” Damiano stepped through the door, looking worse for wear as he stomped through the room, taking the swing of the bottle. “Damiano….” “Just don’t. I don’t want to hear it, I know they’re in the hospital and-” “Dude, we’re just wondering if you’re okay, we don’t care about them-” Damiano stopped as he glared at Thomas, bending down in front of him. “I don’t give a shit how I feel, but you’re not going to disrespect Y/N in front of me. You can do it anywhere else, but around me.” Ethan quietly watched him as he slammed the door shut. “Maybe he’s onto something, he knows them better than us, maybe they’re nice.” Vic spoke up after a while, rubbing her neck as she felt an insane amount of guilt. She knew that Y/N knew that, and the rest of the band didn’t like them. They were so different from Damiano’s partners, none of his partners were foriegn, Y/N was an American and they did things differently than they do. “Are you okay, Vic, you look like you have an idea that none of us are going to like.” Vic was going to make this right and help these two useless lovebirds. “Pack all of your shit, we’re going to America.”

“What do you mean they’re not here? Where could they go?” The receptionist stared blankly at three before grabbing the phone. “If I knew that, I still couldn’t tell you because of HIPAA, if you don’t leave, I will call security.” They quickly stepped out of the building, disappointed as they looked at themselves. “Okay, so we’re going back home right?” Ethan looked done with everything, glaring at the paparazzi that made their way down the street. “We’re going to look for them, I’m not giving up, Damiano is close to shutting down completely and leaving the band. We owe it to him to at least help him either get back together or help him move on.” Vic realized during the ten-hour flight how well Damiano was doing much better with them in his life, they actively made sure that he was eating and remembering important small details. They were a match made in heaven and according to Vic, everyone needed someone to manage in the cruel world. “I know that they have a friend named Jennie, we just have to find where she’s at.”

“The world hasn’t been too kind to you, hasn’t it?” An older man glanced towards the backseat, frowning as he occasionally watched his child sleep. They looked exhausted and ready to throw in the towel from this brutal boxing match. He remembered them, crying into the phone, on the verge of a panic attack as they tried to form a coherent sentence and the next thing he knew, he was on a flight headed to New York. He knew that after the death of their mother, his wife, that they weren’t okay, but it was their senior year of high school and they got into a very prestigious school. They just kept going and going, no time to grieve and he was surprised that it took them so long to do so. As a father, he wanted to protect them from the outside world and yet, he couldn’t be there for them and it frustrated him so much. He pulled into a dirt road, sighing as they made their way down that familiar path. “I just want you to be happy again, just have this snarkier, larger than life attitude, and enjoy yourself. If you didn’t know, I’m proud of you and I’ll make sure that you know that for the rest of your life.”

“So you’re that Måneskin? Not going to lie, I thought Y/N was lying about him, you know? They seem a little...off the rails.” Ethan furrowed his eyebrows at Jennie as she basically walked around naked. “Is there another Måneskin band that we don’t know about? I’m getting sidetracked, where is Y/N? I know they had a breakdown and I thought in America you had to stay there for three days so?” Jennie just looked at the other woman, shrugging her shoulders as she walked into her kitchen, dancing to trashy pop music. “I really don’t know and I really don’t care, I didn’t consider Y/N as my friend. When they came to New York, I just took advantage of that, they were from the South. They came here and wanted to make all of the friends, wanting to get close with everybody and you know what? I could see them, slowly crack and not be their cheerful self and -” “God, no wonder they acted like that, they have you in their right ear, being a negative bitch and making themselves feel like shit.” Thomas spoke up as she pouted, making Ethan and Vic wear a puzzled look on their faces. “How are you making this about yourself? They’re obviously not in a good mental state, don’t make this about you.” Ethan shuffled uncomfortably in his seat as he looked around, coughing awkwardly. Jennie raised her eyebrows at them before she opened the door, pointing out. “Get the fuck out of my apartment and never come back. You’re lucky that I became friends with that hillbilly freak, no one else would ever deal with them.” Once again, they were stumped, they had no leads and they were pretty much ready to give up and call it a day. “...Vic, why are you doing this? Be honest with us, why do you feel this urge to help them? What have they done for you to help them?” “Because Damiano..has become a better person because of them, he’s been worse than this before. He would sleep around, not caring about who he hurt in the process and he was just sinking further and further. Then Y/N came along, they became friends and it took months of Damiano being called out for him to change and during that time frame, he fell in love with Y/N. ...I was jealous, he was more open with them than me. I’ve known him longer than anyone else and it was painful for me to hear him express his dreams and feelings to someone else. I wanted him to express himself with me instead of trying to act like he’s okay with whatever he was dealing with. That’s why I despised them, my jealousy got the best of me and it clouded my judgement.”

2 MONTHS LATER

Y/N watched the fields of corn as they seemed to continue on, never ending as the days went on. They were mounted on their childhood horse, Luna, as they explored the unchanging surroundings around them. Everything was the same, albeit, it really wasn’t, people passed away and some left to bigger and better things and the town that they grew up with just faded away. It was a ghost town, hardly anything stayed in town, all of the mom and pop shops shut down as the older generation retired and their children didn’t want to run a store. Y/N was lucky to have such great parents and allowed them to explore and learn everything they wanted to know. They never held that against their parents, they knew that just being the weird kid would have been sheltered because they knew how society treated children who didn’t fit into the norm. ”Whatca thinkin about?” “Nothing really, just relaxing, thinking, I don’t know what else to do, I don’t want to go back to New York quite yet. I don’t want to paint..it just reminds me of him, and losing him was the second worst pain that I've dealt with. I remember when mom died and I just pushed myself through, buried myself in my college work and...Damiano helped me decompress, I lost my rock and I’m pretty sure that he doesn’t want to see me. His group just won Eurovision and they’re getting international attention…” Their father watched them carefully, walking next to them. “Let me ask you a question, why did you and Damiano fight? Let’s start from there.” Y/N stopped Luna as they spun around to face the older man. “We fought because I traveled all the way to Rome and got drunk for two weeks. I thought we were going to spend time together and he would take me to see his favorite places-” “Did you tell him that? Before you confronted him?” Their father gave him that same look that they loved to give. Y/N had this bad habit where they'd daydream about important conversations and not have those said conversations in real life, they looked away shamefully. “No...I didn’t” “You know men are dumb as rocks, you need to tell us everything or we won’t pick up on hints that you drop. When your mother was pregnant with you, she would constantly get mad when I didn’t do things which led her to getting a chalkboard to let me know what I needed to do. Good communication makes a relationship thrive and survive, you can’t be silent and expect him to come to you. Now, do you want with this information, there’s someone who would love to speak to you.” A car sped down the dirt path, unfamiliar with this terrain, stopping as they rushed out of the car. “How did he even..” They urged Luna to slowly make their way back inwards, nervously glancing back towards their father, he only nodded as he urged them to continue on.

“Excuse me? I’m looking for…” Damiano trailed off as he watched them slowly trotted over to him. “..How did you even find me?” “Honestly, I spent hours upon hours looking through our facetimes and I just wanted to see you...I have so much to say and I just….Ti amo e voglio essere con te(I love you and I want to be with you), I’m hurting when you are and I realized that I can’t imagine myself without you. You’ve been there when I was at my lowest and you know me so personally and I don’t want to lose you.” Damiano grasped their waist as he pulled them into his chest. “Damia-” “No, let me talk first, you were absolutely right, we should’ve talked about what we should’ve done when you visited. I was stupid to think-” Y/N covered his mouth, shaking their head, “No, I’m partially to blame as well, I didn’t communicate what I wanted and I ended up causing a scene and I embarrassed you in front of everyone and your bandmates probably hate me even more.” Damiano wasn’t even listening to what they were saying, unable to focus on anything else but them, he quickly took their face in his hands, eagerly kissing as he ran his hands along their body, gripping their hips. “You weren’t listening to a word I said, did you?” “Diavolo, no(Hell no), you’re too distracting for me to focus.” He chuckled, pulling them closer to him, smirking when they gasped. “Don’t give me that look, I’ve always wanted to sleep with my amore on their childhood bedroom, let’s make that into a reality, shall we?”

#damiano david x reader #maneskin x reader #gender neutral reader #if you want some smut let me know

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feanorianethicsdepartment · 3 years

Text

the last of my thoughts on the homecoming au, the au where maedhros and maglor are taken back to tirion at the end of the war of wrath and proceed to be relentlessly abused by elves more interested in them being ‘normal’ than happy. it’s pretty much exactly as dark as you’d expect from that description, lots of medical/caretaker abuse towards the mentally ill, just a horrible situation in general. one last time, @sunflowersupremes wrote the original au this is an extrapolation from, and @outofangband listened to me blather on about this for ages and contributed lots of ideas of their own. part 1 is here, part 2 is here. this the last part, it isn’t quite as intense as part 2, but it’s a lot more hopeless. also there’s some off-screen torture

on the first post i made about this au, i got some comments to the effect of ‘oh this will only last until person x bails them out’

there were several suggestions - fingon, nerdanel, any of the ainur. it seems like there are a lot of people who’d want to get maedhros and maglor out of this nightmare

seems. these aren’t necessarily my usual interpretations of their characters, but for the purposes of this au i can easily imagine a finrod who already bore a grudge over the whole letting-their-younger-brothers-steal-his-kingdom incident and subsequently heard the version of the nirnaeth where the fëanorians left everyone else to die. he is the only other person in the palace who knew beleriand, and he loathes them so viciously he can barely stand to look at them. they’re lucky he doesn’t do worse

i can easily imagine a nerdanel who was already having trouble processing what her husband and sons did at alqualondë when eärendil and elwing told her every awful thing they’d done since in the span of half an hour. she smashed all their statues, burned all their gifts, and curled up sobbing in a ruined house, wondering why she was such a terrible mother her children grew into demons

and this isn’t long after that, that wound is still fresh. whatever vain hopes she held that the boys she loved were somewhere in there are shattered when she sees them, and they’re talking and laughing just like they did when they were young

like nothing had happened. like nothing had changed. like the monsters had always been waiting patiently for their chance to strike

(they just didn’t want her to see the things they’d become)

i can easily imagine a fingon who is blazingly furious with maedhros over the later kinslayings. he spends most of their only meeting railing at maedhros, and the apologia his caretakers offer up only makes him angrier

so does the fact that maedhros won’t defend himself, won’t even raise his voice. does none of this matter to him? did it ever?

(it does. but maedhros knows what will happen if he yells at his cousin, and he is just so exhausted)

fingon is eventually asked to leave. maedhros’ minders tell him that if he can’t keep his temper around their patient, they’re going to have to cut off contact until maedhros is in a better mental state. fingon snaps that that’s just fine by him, and storms off into the city, trying to hold back his tears

the ainur, now, the ainur would definitely drag them out of the palace and haul them up to the máhanaxar. finarfin’s managed to get as much out of eönwë

what would happen to them after that, eönwë refuses to say. finarfin suspects he doesn’t know, and none of the valar will until they’ve had a chance to actually, like, hold a trial

even so, it becomes pretty obvious to finarfin fairly early on that the noldor simply can’t give the brothers the help they need. it’s plain to see that they’re very unhappy and they’re recovering slowly if at all. whatever the valar decide to do with them, odds are good they’d end up in some permutation of elf afterlife therapy, with well-practiced carers and the family they’ve lost. for their sake, and the sake of the people around them, handing them over to the valar would clearly be the best option

except finarfin doesn’t. he keeps his nephews in his palace, where they break things and make messes and generally give their caretakers constant headaches. when asked why, he always talks about the soul-deep terror on maglor’s face when he asked him not to give them to the valar

he’s not lying about that. but he does have other motives

there’s lots of suppositions in finarfin’s reasoning. there’s every chance the valar would throw them into the deepest depths of mandos until the second music. there’s every chance maedhros would choose to disappear into the woods and never trouble court again

but if the valar do decide to send them to lórien with no limits on their movement, and if maedhros does still harbour nelyafinwë’s political ambitions...

the closest finarfin has gotten to admitting it, even to himself, is saying that the noldor have enough problems right now, they don’t need a succession crisis on top of everything else. sometimes he’ll joke about not wanting maedhros to set up another functionally autonomous military government out in the wilderness

but it’s hard to deny that a maedhros, free to act, with his head screwed on straight, could potentially be the single biggest threat to finarfin’s crown

not that he doesn’t want his nephews to get better! it’s heartrending to see the pain they’re in, he sincerely wants to see them happy

he’d just prefer them to be happy in a way that's... convenient

maedhros and maglor’s contact with the outside world is kept to a strict minimum and heavily monitored when it does happen. they’re only allowed to visit the public parts of the palace when their caretakers know exactly who’s going to be there and if they can be trusted to not make a fuss about the brothers’ presence

it’s all in the interest of keeping the peace, you understand. maedhros’ followers are difficult to handle at the best of times, if they somehow got it into their heads that the last of their lords were being held captive in the palace...

well, finarfin says over tea. maitimo can see the wisdom in not provoking a civil war, can he not?

(he will not bring death to the blessed realm again. not even if his last baby brother is rotting away to a shell, not even if he’s being smothered to death from the inside out. he will not, he must not)

(if he did, there would truly be nothing left but the monster)

and then, one day, maglor gets the chance to escape

his minders aren’t paying much attention to him, he’s been a lot quieter since they put the gag on him. he’s small and fast and good at sneaking around, by the time they notice he’s missing he’s already found a way out of the palace

he jumps out of a third-floor window, bites down the pain, and runs. he clears the grounds and disappears into the city

he makes for - he doesn’t know where. subconsciously, he navigates towards the craft guild districts, where his family’s staunchest supporters always were

except the city’s changed a lot since he was last loose in it, and before he knows it, he’s completely lost. he wanders the streets half in a daze, his raw nerves unused to the bustle and noise of it all. wherever he goes, people stop and start and turn away

finally someone calls him over. ‘hey, you want that collar off your neck?’

it’s a smith of some sort, he can tell that much. they’re smiling, welcomingly and without pity. he’s rushing over to them, nodding his head, before he can even think about

the trouble is, maglor doesn’t remember the faces of most of the people he saw in beleriand, but they all remember him

the trouble is, this smith was at sirion

back in the palace, who gets access to the brothers is very strictly controlled. which isn’t to say that nobody tries to hurt them; finrod tends to put the worst spin on things when he’s asked for advice, there’s all kinds of minor acts of sabotage, and they come across innocuous-seeming harmful objects more often than mere chance would seem to allow

but even their caretakers can tell that letting desperate revenge-seekers get near the brothers wouldn’t be particularly conducive to whatever recovery they’re hoping for. anyone who might randomly come across maedhros or maglor in a hallway is intensely vetted for ulterior motives, and while this process isn’t airtight it does filter out the most obviously malicious

and outside of that bubble, none of that applies. the smith does take maglor’s gag off, purely to hear him scream

soon enough, the palace guard tracks him down. they take him back to the palace, where he’s bandaged up and comforted and then, as a special treat, allowed to see his brother

(they’re kept apart more often than not these days. being around maglor makes maedhros agitated, being around maedhros makes maglor sullen. they’re just more cooperative when they’re alone)

maglor does the same thing he’s done every time he’s seen his brother for the past year, which is immediately bury his face in maedhros’ chest and shudder. it takes him a moment to remember he can speak now

‘we’re trapped’ he whispers. ‘we’re trapped’

because he was screaming for what felt like hours, and nobody came to help. as he was being carried back to the palace, he saw the scorn and the disgust in the passers-by’s eyes

there’s nobody who will shelter them outside the palace. there’s nowhere on this continent they can go

and that - that’s the end, in a way. maedhros remains stubborn and ill-tempered, never quite letting them forget he doesn’t want to be here and doesn’t like what they’re doing, but the fight goes out of him. he does what they tell him just as biddably as he did before they took his brother’s voice

maglor, surprisingly, takes a turn for the better. he starts acting cheerful again, doing everything that’s asked of him with a smile and a wink. he’s making excellent progress, his minders tell finarfin

(they don’t tell him what maglor looks like when the mask starts to crack)

finarfin is very pleased to hear that one of his nephews is finally starting to recover! it’s been a long, painful journey, but it looks like it’s all at long last working out

to celebrate, he decides to give maglor a gift he’s been holding onto for a while

he calls maglor into his office. the tension in his posture is a bit worrying, but his expression is all makalaurë, a casual, mildly disrespectful grin. he swans into the room, flounces into a chair, and asks what his uncle wants

finarfin praises him for all the progress he’s been making, and hands him a letter

it’s from elros

the first line is ‘how are you doing, you old bastard?’ it calls him a kinslayer six different ways in the first three paragraphs. it asks him how many people he’s stabbed since he got back. it closes off by wishing him some fun loud arguments with maedhros

finarfin was a little concerned maglor still not might be in the right emotional state for it, but the tightness bleeds out of his nephew’s frame as he reads. a couple of times he even bursts into snickering that sounds more genuine than any sound he makes in court

he finishes reading with a truly relaxed smile on his face. then he freezes, and looks up at finarfin

in a tiny, quiet voice, so unlike the way he talks nowadays, he asks, ‘may i write a reply?’

finarfin hates to take the wind out of his sails, but maglor deserves to know. ‘that letter is centuries old. i’ve been holding onto it until you were ready to read it.’ he shuts his eyes. ‘i’m afraid elros passed some time ago’

maglor’s head drops. the letter in his hands begins to shake. little whimpers escape his trembling body. finarfin walks over, places a hand on his shoulder. ‘i’m sorry, we -’

that’s not whimpering, finarfin realises. those are growls. his nephew’s head snaps up, face twisted with rage

maglor tries to tear finarfin’s face off -

and that’s all i have. these headcanons have been exhausting to write, i’ll clean them up and put them on ao3 in a bit, but not now, if for no other reason than it’s 3am. again. i hope these weren’t too incoherent. going to try to unbanjax my sleep schedule now

#homecoming au #maedhros #maglor #finarfin #fingon #abuse //#mental health issues ///#torture ///#my terrible fic #it is done. at last i am done #this is the most depressing thing i've ever written #i was kind of trying to get it all out in one go #or as close as i could get with how long it turned out #i wrote most of these at ass o'clock in the morning when i really should have been asleep #i'll try to make them less midnight ramble-y for ao3 #gah. i hope the characterisation is at least functional #these feel more disconnected than i'd like but this ain't a story it's a collection of headcanons #brain has nominated my maglor's wife oc for person who could actually get them out #kidnapping one's evil husband for fun and spite!#it's either that or elrond #or they fade first #or maglor attacking finarfin spells the end of everything #... if it does i don't want to write it right now #i've thought about this au too much #please come quick with the serotonin pokemon gold for the 3ds virtual console

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magioftheseas · 3 years

Text

Rose Stem Asphyxiation

Summary: In one life, Hilise and Gabrielle try to be sisters.

Rating: T+

Warnings: References to violence, murder mostly fraticide, suicide, child abuse... Canon-typical stuff, tbh, even if this is canon divergence.

Notes: I just don’t get enough opportunities to write fucked up sisterly relationships and if Untouchable Lady is going to give me a dynamic that I think has potential, then I’m gonna go for it. Sorry that there’s no Axion. There’s no male characters at all beyond a couple of cursory mentions. Sorry~

***Alternate Ao3 Link***

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“Hiliseeee!”

Gabrielle tackles her arm with innocent glee, but there’s a maid nearby who flinches. Unperturbed, Gabrielle beams up at her. The perfect image of the adorable little sister.

It should be satisfying if not endearing. No matter what Hilise does, it’ll always be Gabrielle who is the darling of the Inoaden household.

And yet, Hilise remembers the first time she saw Gabrielle embrace their father.

The way Gabrielle embraces her right now.

And the bitter resentment that stains her soul burns like a fresh wound.

“Are you going out, sis?” Gabrielle asks, and her bright inquiry snaps her from her dark mood. “I can come, right?”

No, it’s different.

The way Gabrielle squeezes her arm is with a hint of desperation. Unease. Gabrielle’s usually effortless smile twitches at its edges.

“Of course you can come,” Hilise says, watching Gabrielle relax.

Gabrielle who nuzzles against her, giggling all the while.

Gabrielle who has never had to fear their father, but her fear here is quite justified.

Hilise could kill her, after all. Has killed her before, in fact, albeit in a past life.

And she could never quite forget that look of sheer terror.

How Gabrielle cowered, scrambling back pathetically and looking up with those usually bright eyes torn up with hideous tears.

Hilise had let her scream her throat out raw. Begging for someone—anyone—

That...had perhaps been too cruel of her.

Next time, she’ll just snap Gabrielle’s neck first. What good came from saving her for last? If it was meant to be mercy, it was a poor execution.

The two sisters go shopping and it’s overall an uneventful trip.

She already knows there’s no usurping Gabrielle’s status as a darling, but at the very least, she can play the role of a loved older sister. Rather, she can pretend.

Unlike her father and her brother who will never truly love her—will never even pretend to love her, Gabrielle is different.

Gabrielle will give her easy smiles and shower her with easy affection. Gabrielle will offer her jewelry and adornment and this time, it wouldn’t be a mere childish prank. Even now, Gabrielle enjoys treats with her, humming with pleasure.

Hilise smiles at her mildly, but it feels miserable. Doesn’t fit quite right on her face, either. Well. It��s not too bad. Better than her disastrous relationship with Christian. At least Gabrielle lacks the depth to hate this arrangement.

Gabrielle is happy as long as she is doted on and spoiled.

It’s as enviable as it is contemptible.

“So, for the next ball,” Gabrielle is saying. “There’s this dress I really want to wear. You should see it! It’s going to be the start of a new fashion trend!”

She is well aware.

“I’m sure,” she replies simply, meaning it. “However, you are looking to impress Christian Parvenon as well, right?”

“Do you think he’ll like it?” Gabrielle asks, eyes alit with anticipation. She’s so radiant it makes her stupid. “I don’t want him able to keep his eyes away! Oh, but, you should get dressed up too all nice and pretty too, sis.” A touch of discomfort at Gabrielle’s smile. “As long as you don’t distract Christian, then it’s fine...”

Even now, Gabrielle can’t help but be a little entitled. It’s fine. Hilise doesn’t have any interest in him.

“I...” She doesn’t... “I don’t really care about getting a husband.”

“You don’t?!” Gabrielle gasps, aghast at the idea. She’s just too naïve to not be sincerely surprised. “Do you not like anyone?!”

“No.” There is no use in hesitating or drawing it out. “I’m not.”

“You should let me introduce you,” her sister says, already excited. “There are plenty of handsome bachelors from good families! I hear aaaaaaall about them!” She brags, proud of the social life she has that Hilise was never allowed. “I know all the gossip, too! I’ll make sure not a single scandalous guy enters the equation! You can count on me, dear sister!”

...the thing is that Hilise doesn’t doubt it.

That’s the thing, isn’t it, that Hilise never doubts a word Gabrielle says.

Gabrielle can play pranks, but like this, Gabrielle would never lie. In fact, she offers up answers without even needing to be prodded. Hilise nearly needs to sip her tea like so, and Gabrielle is already chatting up a storm about the aforementioned gossip. Quite spiritedly, at that.

She’s so eager.

So desperate.

As if this is life or death, when it’s just another vapid method of filling space and passing time. Something to do as Hilise waits for the end of this loop.

How shall I attempt dying this time?

She considers, for a second, pushing Gabrielle into it. But with how Gabrielle is still yapping away, Hilise thinks it would be too tedious an avenue to pursue.

It’d be a change of pace, but she’s not like my father nor my brother. She doesn’t have the bloodlust nor the blood running through her veins.

(Or so she thought.)

“Sis!” Gabrielle exclaims, realizing that she is not being listened to. The indignance has her cheeks puffing out. “Are you paying any attention?!”

“I am,” Hilise says simply, thinking of puncturing those perfectly round cheeks with thorns. “It’s just—that I’m not interested. Sorry.”

“Why not?!” Gabrielle demands, more out of confusion than frustration. “Don’t you want to...?”

“No.” Hilise doesn’t care to hear the rest. “I don’t want to court, much less marry.”

There’s no point. I won’t be loved either way.

“Y-You can’t just stay alone forever,” Gabrielle points out shakily. “I mean, that’s just...that’s really... Hilise...”

Oh?

Is that pity?

Is that sympathy?

Is Gabrielle sad for her?

Hilise straightens up. She sets down her cup. She folds her hands into her lap. She stares, bores holes into Gabrielle’s twisted-up face from her trembling downturned lips to her downcast eyes.

Gabrielle is at a loss for words for once.

It’s quite the sight.

“Gabrielle.”

Gabrielle perks up immediately. Attentive. Outwardly anxious. Adorable. Precious.

“If I have you,” Hilise says smiling. “I won’t ever be alone, right?”

Gabrielle doesn’t smile back.

Not at first.

When she does, it’s clear she has to make an effort.

“O... Of course...!” She trips over her words. “You’ll always have me...!”

I think...

“I’m glad,” Hilise replies, still smiling. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” Gabrielle insists. “We’re sisters, aren’t we? Obviously, I’ll always...”

When I get bored of this...

“...be with you...”

I’m going to throw myself off the roof without a bed of roses to embrace my fall.

She had dreamed of having a normal family once, but it was always a distant, childish dream. Even when given other chances, she had known on some level that it was impossible for her. That she wasn’t meant to be loved by her father and brother—it just couldn’t be helped.

As for Gabrielle, well—Gabrielle filled the void of beloved little sister and daughter. Even if it wasn’t Gabrielle’s fault, that was the simple fact of the matter. At least she was still innocent, Hilise thought.

And Gabrielle could be swayed and won over with such ease. What was the harm, then, in indulging a little? What was wrong with wanting some familial love? Even if it was shallow, it was Gabrielle.

Gabrielle was innocent and lovely, right? Everyone loved her for a reason. Even if Hilise couldn’t be her, she could be with her and pretend, if only for a moment, that Gabrielle loved her.

Gabrielle was bright. Gabrielle was lovely. Gabrielle—was never going to understand.

“You’ll die for Gabrielle’s sake, won’t you?”

Whatever sisterhood she may have wanted, had wanted dearly at that, was just another pipe dream.

There wasn’t much point in wanting it. Not when she was never going to get it no matter what she did. Illusions were always meant to fade and the loop was always going to restart.

“It’s fine, you can come back, so it’s fine. Just bear with dying one more time.”

Her father was always going to hate her. Ricardo was never going to love her. And Gabrielle, well—she was too innocent of the world. Even when she snapped, she was going to be sheltered and protected. Gabrielle could be persuaded to love her, but they weren’t ever going to inhabit the same world. Not when one of them only knew love and the other...knew nothing of the sort, even as she longed so much for it.

Whatever.

Just.

Whatever.

I think I’m done with everything, with both love and family, Hilise thought tiredly. I don’t even care anymore.

The truth is that I could have been fine never being loved. I just wanted someone to worry about me. Did I ever have that, even for a moment? Or was that just a delusion?

It didn’t matter anymore.

It didn’t.

She couldn’t do this anymore. Because regardless of the end, they’re never going to care about her.

Trash till the end, Hilise thought, exhausted. Still...do you want to know something? It wasn’t too bad to pretend for a bit. Thanks for that, Gabrielle.

But I’m still going to throw you away with everything else.

#Untouchable Lady #mahwa #Hilise Inoaden #Gabrielle Inoaden #Magi fics #Idk what to tag this

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shiramoonshadow · 3 years

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Hi! The vip panel with Jason Simpson, Luc Roderique and Adrian Petriw lasts longer that the first one, so I've transcribed the first 30 minutes and I'll try to have the last half hour left by tomorrow. Sorry to keep you waiting!

Luc, favorite king Harrow scene? (This was mine)

Luc: That’s a really tough one. I think my favorite scene to watch... pretty much anything in “heart of a titan” are my favorite scenes to watch. I literally just re-watched “heart of a titan” before doing this and it gets me every single time...Um..from the scenes of watching I love those scenes where Harrow is just standing on the balcony watching his sons, watching Callum draw a little picture in the dirt of Harrow and realizing that Harrow means something to him or where he's talking about making history a narrative of love instead of a narrative of strength and watching Callum and Ezran have a little wooden sword fight, and then Callum hits a little too hard and accidentally hurts Ezran and he can see that and immediately drops his sword to make sure that his little brother's all right. Those scenes always get me. My favorite one to act was probably...episode three; his goodbye to Callum. It was pretty early in the process of recording and I just remembered the feeling in the room like every other actor in the room was so amazing and really gave us the space to play that scene, and it’s the most emotional moment I’ve ever had in a recording booth in an animated session.

What did you do in that moment where you broke Viren’s heart forever and it never recovered? So Viren’s resigned himself to do the right thing, he’s come to terms with the fact that King Harrow is right and he’s in the wrong and he’s got to be a better person, a different person, and he goes in to kind of walk side by side and king Harrow says “get on your knees b****, you are my subject and you’re going to get in line and you’re going to shut your mouth”, and then it broke Viren’s heart forever. Tell me your process.

Luc: That’s an interesting one for Harrow because it’s very counter-intuitive to I think how he normally operates, but I think they have such a long-standing friendship in relationship, like I have those friendships in my own life where you know a person so well and you know all of the things you love about them and the reason that you’re still their friend, but the things that just...they are like family, right? Viren will just not get off of this dark magic thing and I have seen the harm that dark magic can do in the past and it just like Harrow lets his emotions get the better of him. I said it before, it’s like Achilles heel and I think in that moment he was just “I need to show him who’s in charge here. I need to show him what’s going to happen and he knows that the only way to do that is a show of strength and a show of authority.

What do you think Jason? Is that the moment where we lose Viren for good?

Jason: No, I don’t think we’ve lost him for good. I mean, I have high hopes and as an actor I have...Um..you know, you want to progress and grow and I think there’s a whole lot of growth potential and hopefully it’s coming because the guy’s got a long way to go to redemption, but you don’t need someone else’s approval to find redemption but it certainly helps when you’ve hurt other people and you want their forgiveness and that’s not going to come easy at all, but I want it to be there because, you know, he’s such a great character and he’s...we’ve got Claudia in the mix and their relationship is going to grow and there’s going to be struggles and so; no, Viren is not long gone but that definitely was the catalyst for him...maybe not the catalyst, one of them. For him..Um...going forward with what he was doing, I think he always had plans but now his friend is gone...is he?

What’s your favorite scene Jason?

Jason: Favorite scene overall...There’s a couple of things that get me excited…

Other than Harrow?

Jason: I do love the...it’s very very short but it’s a moment where...well no, actually my favorite scene is Amaya and Janai at the helms deep there, oh wrong show, um... just that full action sequence, it's so exciting, it gives me goosebumps every time I watch it, it’s so exciting, and the sword and she grabs her and she pulls her up and… My favorite scene to work on was just a very short scene with the mirror and Viren trying so hard to figure it out and he puts the crap in his eyes and it was a really raw emotional moment for me, the most emotional I’ve been on the show as an actor. He is clearly screaming at himself, “you’re worthless, why did I waste my time?” It really touched a nerve in me. I’ve had those moments staring into the mirror myself, so that was a very touching moment.

Adrian, what’s your favorite scene?

Adrian: My favorite scene to voice is...maybe not a scene but a sequence, was doing the whole in the first season, the whole sort of the banther lodge sequence when we come and Callum is there and Rayla's hiding. That was one of the first sort of times as Gren, as an actor, I really had to play with this dichotomy that the character has? I don’t know if dichotomy is quite the right term, but where Gren has his own voice as his own character but then when he speaks for Amaya there has to be this shift and you know, he has to sort of take on this sort of confidence and poise that she has, so having to play the shift between speaking to Amaya and to Callum as Gren and speaking for Amaya, making that transition was really interesting. Favorite scene overall is really tough...I don’t know if I can pick an absolute favorite but one that always comes up, I just really love the moment in s1 with Amaya at her sister's grave, when she's signing to her sister and there's no captions. It's such a powerful scene all thanks to the animators and it’s honestly one of the most common scenes that people bring up to me when we’re chatting at cons and stuff like that and, you know, I thought there was a lot of brave choices there and it was also just something I just had never seen in a cartoon before. That’s always stuck with me and that was one moment when I was first watching the first season that really hit me, that I was like “wow I’m really proud to be a part of this thing”.

What relationship changes more from this point on from s4 forward, Jason what changes more, Viren and Claudia or Viren and Aaravos?

Jason: I think it’s gonna...this is me speculating, this is not-

Yeah, yeah. Of course, nobody knows anything.

Jason: Yeah (Wink). I think his relationship with Claudia is going to be strained because she is going to be moving forward in the path that he might move forward, but he is going to be seeing things in a whole different light and I think that has to do with the way he will be treated, maybe cast aside by Aaravos. Um... I think he's gonna be fighting for his daughter's life.

[About conquering Xadia] maybe it’s just Aaravos hiding intentions, but it felt very like, what are we doing bro? Like is there a plan? Like can I, can you give me something? Like, to me it felt very much like Viren was in charge and you’re saying at that point Aaravos knows everything?

Jason: It certainly can feel like Viren is in charge and it can certainly look like it. It does not mean for one second, in my opinion, that Aaravos is pulling all the strings. Let me use a very very very terrible analogy. A smart person decides to use a drug because it heightens them and they figure I’m smart enough, I know when to stop, I can control this, but it gives me more. They lose control, it sucks them in and no matter how smart they are, no matter what their plans are. That’s a terrible way to put that...I can see that exact thing happening with Viren and Aaravos. The beautiful thing about this is we all watch the same thing, we all see the same visuals, we all hear the same dialogue but we can have completely opposing opinions. You and I could have a complete argument and never convince each other, . That's awesome.

#the dragon prince #cast and crew #viren #harrow #gren #amaya #janaya #callum #ezran #claudia #aaravos

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whitherliliesbloom · 3 years

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a house of cards

[ ffxivwrite2021 ] ★ [ masterlist ] ★ [ prompt #11 - preaching to the choir ]

[ alphinaud/wol ] ★ [ 1,468 words ] ★ [ tears of themis au ]

to speak for or against something to people who already agree with one's opinions

it takes unwavering conviction, something alphinaud never once doubted stellis’ best junior attorney to possess in strides

Bouts of outspokenness and raw charisma came only occasionally for Illya. It was most common in the courtroom, where her natural reservations and usual shyness is thrown aside in favor of a demeanor more confident as she fights for rightful judgement with her words.

Once in a while however, that forwardness would resurface outside the tribunal whenever she felt an urgency behind the cause she had deemed most imperative to root for.

It was never for her own sake that she’d channel her energy into, nor has she ever fought in defense for someone she didn’t genuinely believe to be deserving of it... But that only made her assertiveness all the more admirable.

And by the gods, what a sight it was to truly see.

“You have to let me investigate this case, Dr. Leveilleur!” Normally soft and gentle voice that has always reminded him of the melodic chirping of songbirds now raised and lowered in octave to convey her seriousness, he forces a frown onto his face as he stares down at the young woman who with equal solemnness furrows her brows even further. “I insist.”

Illya was never a woman who insisted on things - especially not towards someone who wasn’t her direction opposition in a court case. And it was perhaps the first time he’s ever seen her raise her voice in response to his own words.

There is zero chances of their conversation being overheard regardless of how loudly she spoke - soundproof as his office and workspace is for the purpose of protecting the privacy of his patients. And Illya knows this full well - is utilizing the perfect opportunity to showcase her will.

The woman was determined - and little wonder.

“You would pour your energy into a cold case?” Alphinaud questions, feigning a doubtful tone in his voice. “But what would be the point of that?”

“It just doesn’t add up! Surely you must feel there’s something amiss with the case too, don’t you? Why else would the case mysteriously be transferred into the open case files in the NXX database?”

There is certainly full merit to her words, but Alphinaud doesn’t speak - merely silent as he watches the youngest member of their secret investigative group brace her hands against the wooden desk. The chamomile tea he’d poured for her still sat neglected in its cup, slowly growing colder.

“The plaintiff of the first lawsuit clearly had an agenda against Garlond Ironworks... What’s more, the circumstances behind Miss Jessie’s death are incredibly suspicious. It’s just... It’s just way too convenient for it to be a mere accident!”

The psychiatrist hums, narrowing his eyes before folding his arms across his chest.

“Be that as it may... It’s still been over two years since the ruling. Any evidence we might have found back then would either have been lost, destroyed or confiscated. It would be difficult to find enough evidence to call for another lawsuit... let alone turn the first ruling around.”

Alphinaud leans forward, his expression grave and serious to match her own.

“Not to mention... the first lawsuit ended with the death of one of the defendants. If her passing truly is a result of foul play instead of an accident, like you proposed... You must know full well how dangerous investigating this case would be.”

The woman doesn’t respond, not immediately anyway, as she bows her head down and takes a sharp inhale through her nose in order to recollect her thoughts.

But against the protective instincts of her head, and against the nervous pounding of her heart in the face of a man who was questioning her, Illya finally turns to look up, violet eyes burning with resolve that Alphinaud knows will not soon be extinguished.

“I know. I knew, ever since I joined NXX... no, ever since I decided to become an a lawyer. I know of the risks, and I know that it won’t be easy. I may lose my reputation, my job... or even worse. But I can’t any of that get in the way of my fight. The world deserves the truth, and the victims deserve justice.”

He can hear her nails scratching against the wooden surface of his desk as she pulls her fingers inwards and balls her hands into tight fists... and he can tell that he’s another objection away from forcing her voice into a yell.

“I’m ready to do whatever it takes, Dr Leveilleur! Please, you have to believe me!”

The smile that the young psychiatrist had been forcing himself to hold back is plastered upon his face now, lips upturned into a youthful, pleased grin as he moves to grab his prized set of poker cards from the pocket of his lab coat.

“Do you remember when we first met, Illya?” he asks, sitting himself down on his black office chair with Illya’s gaze turning down to follow him.

At the man’s sudden, unrelated question, her shoulders finally visibly relax... the furled knots in her brows unwinding and bright star-spangled eyes widening in confusion.

“E-eh? Um... Well... yes, why?” Her voice softens to it’s usual volume and pitch, and Alphinaud’s chest wells up with something akin to adoration... but he speaks of none of it towards her.

“Do you remember what happened?” Alphinaud asks, opening the box to pull out the deck as he nonchalantly begins shuffling the cards.

Illya’s eyes dart down to his hands, and without a single second’s hesitation, she nods.

“You were in your office... stacking cards. And then you asked me to pull one out without topping the rest over.”

As if to replay, or at least relive that memory, Alphinaud begins pulling apart the deck to stack the cards up into yet another tower, slender fingers careful and precise as he props two cards up against one another before pulling away. He lets a chuckle when he notes Illya puffing her chest out as if to hold her breath as she watches him.

“I did. And when the tower collapsed, I asked you if you would try again if you had the opportunity to.”

He lays a card flat against the four upright cards, before moving on to stack yet another two cards on top of it.

“In truth... I asked you that question as a form of test, Illya.”

“A test?” Her voice raises a tad out of bewilderment... but he is mildly surprised to note that she isn’t more... shocked by his confession.

“As a psychiatrist and the one in charge of investigating mental health cases, it naturally fell to me to ensure that each potential candidate had the suitable qualities to become a member of the NXX.”

Leaning back against his chair, Alphinaud’s once warm smile now falters into a more somber, apologetic frown as he gazes at the woman standing on the other side of the desk.

“I’m also responsible for making sure that each member is suitably mentally prepared to take on whatever cases they have been put in charge of... which means-”

“You... were just testing me?”

At Illya’s query, Alphinaud’s heart leaps into his throat, and his usual concrete collectiveness slips - voice stuttering and hands raising into the air in a panic.

“I-... For what it’s worth, I never doubted you! Not even for a second.” He quickly reassures, before shaking his head. “Neither did G’raha or Aymeric, for that matter. Estinien has his reservations, as usual.. but! But rest assured, with my testimony, I’ll be able to convince him to-”

“I understand, Dr. Leveilleur.” The sight of her upturned lips, the twinkling of her dazzling eyes and the adorable, almost sheepish reddening of her cheeks, Alphinaud feels his heart skip a beat and a lump catching in his throat. “it’s alright, I don’t blame you. I just...”

The young woman leans back, tucking her arms behind her back as she turns her head away to hide the rapidly darkening blush upon her face beneath the shadows of her bangs.

“I just feel a little embarrassed now.... I was being so forceful and loud and I...”

Heavens, she’s cute. Cute and assertive when she needs to be. If he does not make his move soon, the others would surely-

“There’s no need to be embarrassed. Not with me, Illya.” Alphinaud rises from his seat, sauntering around his desk and moving towards the young attorney before kneeling down before her with a smile.

“In fact... if you could find it in your heart to forgive me for my deception... I would like to offer my assistance to you during your investigation.”

The forgotten tower of cards upon his desk stands tall and proud, as does Illya as she looks up at the man with a wide smile and a nod.

“Then, you are forgiven, Dr. Leveilleur.”

#ffxiv #final fantasy xiv #ffxivwrite2021 #ffxivwrite #kiwisffxivwrite2021 #illya skawi #alphinaud leveilleur #alphinaud #tears of themis au #fanfic #we've come so far #mine

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lightupmyass · 4 years

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All Mine

Pairing: Soft-ish Villain! Deku x Reader

Word count: 3852

A/N: Hello everyone! So, this is actually my first time writing in a while, this is an Adult Deku fic, way after they graduated. I've been really lacking motivation lately and this is my first mha fic posted on here, so I hope it doesn't suck 😅. Anyways, I hope you enjoy! Also, this isn't edited so please ignore any mistakes. Its a lot tamer than what I anticipated for Villain Deku but its just a little something to get back intonthe groove of writing.

The longer you sat in the chair, the faster your heart raced, the fear and excitement of what’s to come, the overwhelming feeling of being like prey, uncertainty of how exactly you’re supposed to feel in this situation. Of course, you should be scared, terrified even. You got yourself into quite the dangerous situation, but the excitement of what might happen was too much to ignore. You may have gotten into this position on accident, but you’re here in this room for a reason. This is all your fault, and you’re willing to pay the price for your foolish actions.

You jumped when you heard the door open, your arms instinctively tugging at the rope tied around your wrists as you tried to turn around, but couldn’t. “Oh Doll, don’t be too scared now, just relax.” The soft voice of the man you used to know echoed through the room, taking a different tone as the mood in the room completely changed. You felt calmer, yet even more anxious all at once. This was not the boy you went to school with. This was not the boy who gave you pep talks when you were down, who you admired. This boy, no, this man, was a completely different person. Your body trembled as his hand landed on your shoulder, fingers moving to grab your chin, tilting your head back to look up at him, his green eyes looking into your own with a look you never thought you’d see from him, the look of a predator, a snake, who just caught a little baby bunny.

“You got yourself into quite a pickle, haven’t you Y/N? It wasn’t very smart of you to come after me alone. Did you think you’d be able to talk me out of this? Turn the big bad villain back into the hero he once was? Hm?” He asked, his voice smooth, the stutter he used to have was completely gone. He was, way more confident than he used to be. The power he held over you was intense, and not just his physical strength no, he already knew what you felt for him, and the new and improved Izuku definitely used that to his advantage. You couldn’t even respond properly, only whimpering when his hand trailed back to your neck, his thumb brushing over the sensitive spot directly under your jaw. “No, I don’t think that’s why you’re here. If it was, you would’ve put up more of a fight. Then, what is it? What brought you here?” He leaned down, his mouth right next to your ear. “Tell me, Doll. I’d love to hear your voice. Speak up now, or I might get mad.” He whispers, sending a chill down your spine. “You. I-I wanted t-to see you. I heard about what happened, but I’m not here to try and change your mind." You spit out. He hums curiously, circling around to stand in front of you, kneeling down and resting his hands on your thighs. You have to admit, he’s scarier than any villain you’ve ever stood up against. The calmness he exudes, plus the raw power you know he has, that and the nice dark green suit he’s wearing just makes you feel so small, so powerless against him, you’re definitely trapped.

“Then why did you come here, if not to change my mind?” He asks, staring into your eyes, making you even more anxious. You turn your head away, completely intimidated by the direct eye contact. “I-I wanted to see you. To be honest, I wanted to maybe,” You gulp, hoping that he believes your next words, “help you.” It took a lot of time and effort to make the decision. For years, you were looked down upon by your fellow heroes. You weren’t exactly the toughest fighter, and your quirk, the ability to paralyze people by touching them, was only good if you could get close to someone. You’ve been working hard to train your body to move faster, to catch people off guard and sneak attack them, but no matter how hard you tried it was always by sheer luck that you managed to actually do it. Although you passed the hero course, you felt like you didn’t deserve it. The only way you did was because he was always there, always rooting for you and giving you the strength to work harder. You couldn’t have done it without him, so you feel like you owe him. “You know how hard things have been for me. I’m not very strong, but you’ve always been there for me, and I want to help you too, no matter what side you’re on. I want to help you, be loyal to you in any way I can. Please, let me help you. I promise I’ll do the best I can. “ You tell him, your eyes watering a bit.

He takes a minute to soak it all in before smiling, reaching to cup your cheek. “Oh Doll, I'd love to have you work with me. Your quirk could be a real advantage to me. You’ll be very useful. There’s just one thing you need to do before I let you be my partner.” He says, standing up and walking behind you. “What is it? I’ll do anything. I-I love you, I’ll do anything you want me to, to prove that and my loyalty to you.” You admit, surprising yourself with the sudden confession. “You love me, huh? That’s a bit surprising. Alright then, if you truly love me, then just relax, Doll, and let me make you mine.” He whispers in your ear before leaning down, his hot breathe fanning over your neck before his teeth sink into the soft skin, making you wince and whimper in pain and pleasure before his tongue swipes over it, soothing it. “Please, Izuku. Do whatever you want. I want you to make me yours, please. I’ll be good for you.” You whisper, your pride completely diminished at this point. All you wanted, all you needed, was to be consumed by him, to be taken over by him, to be completely under his control. “That’s what I like to hear, Doll. Just relax now, and tilt your head back, and close your eyes.” He orders softly, you instantly complying. A moment later you can feel silk across your face, his tie most likely, being tied around your head, covering your eyes. “Good girl. This might actually work. As long as you keep listening to me, we shouldn’t have a problem.” He whispers in your ear, his arm wrapping around your chest as his other hand reaches down on your body, fingers teasing the hem of your skirt as your thighs tremble in anticipation.

“I wonder, how long have you wanted this? Everyone always told me you had a crush on me back in high school. Did you dream of this situation?” He asks, placing kisses on your neck as he moves your skirt up, your damp panties exposed to the cold air. “Y-Yes. I did.” You admit sheepishly, never thinking you’d be admitting that to him. “Mm, naughty naughty Doll. I wonder, should I give you what you want, or should I make you earn it? It seems this cute little hole of yours,” He traces his finger over your slit, a small breathy moan escaping your lips as the fabric starts to stick to your folds, your sensitivity heightened from the loss of sight, “is just begging for attention.”

You’re not entirely sure what to do. You feel if you ask him to touch you more, he might see how bad you want it and deny you of it, but if you stay quiet it then he might give you what you want. Its best to just let him do whatever he wants and show how obedient you can be for him. “What did you imagine me doing to you, Doll? I want you to tell me exactly what you wished for all these years. Don’t be shy now.” He says, you can hear the smile in his voice. He’s loving this. You take a deep breath, not taking much effort to remember the things you used to fantasize about. “I-I always thought about you touching me, about how, you would feel going, i-inside of me. Just being a big, messy ball of love and lust with you, getting lost in the feeling of being one with you and being yours.” It felt weird to say it like that, but to you, there was no other way to put it. Its not that you just wanted something physical, you didn’t just want him to completely wreck your shit. You wanted him to love you back, to make you feel like you mattered, like you were worth everything you wanted from him.

“So that’s how it is, huh? Well, today might just be your lucky day. You see, I've been wanting you for a long time too. When we were younger, I wanted to be with you, to support you and make you see your potential. But now, I want more. So much more. I want you, to be mine. I want to break you, mold you and shape you into the perfect partner for me. I will train you, and help you get stronger, maybe even train you to use weapons instead of just relying on your quirk. But, I also want to mess with your mind, play around with you until the second I lay a single finger on you, you’re putty in my hands. Thought something tells me that won’t be too difficult from how much you’re squirming under my touch.” His fingers push your panties to the side, the direct contact of his skin on you overwhelming. No one has ever touched you like this before, and the fact that it was him made it all the more intense as his finger traced up and down your bare slit. “You’re soaked already, Doll. Or, should I call you Puppy, since you’re as loyal as one. You can be my cute little Puppy, my loyal guard dog that won’t let anyone harm me, and I’ll protect you just as much. No one else will ever lay a finger on you. You wanna know why, Puppy?” He asks, you humming questionably in response. “Because from this moment forward, you’re mine, and no one is allow to lay a finger on you, or touch a single hair on you. If they do, I'll beat them to a pulp, and if they survive, they’ll know to never make that mistake again.” He warns, the possessiveness making you happier than it probably should.

“I want you to stand up for me, little Puppy. I’ll untie your hands for just a moment, but they will be tied again, understand?” He says, his fingers already working on the rope that he tied an hour ago. “Yes, Sir.” You say, not thinking about it until you heard him growl behind you, making your entire body tremble. “I like hearing that. I like hearing that a lot. I want you to say that more.” He commands. “Yes sir.” You smile, loving the fact that you made him react like that, that you did something he really liked. It made you really happy that you could make him feel the way he made you feel. As soon as you feel the rope fall away from your bruised flesh, you stood up just as he said, standing there and waiting for his next move. You felt his presence as he moved to stand in front of you, tying the rope back around your wrists, but this time in front of you. Once they were all tied up again, you felt him move, his hands on your hips as he moved you to stand straight, his hands reaching up your skirt to slide your slick panties down your leg, the cool air hitting your core as you step out of them, earning an approving hum from him. “Good girl. Now, sit in my lap and lean back against me. Just relax and let me do what I want.” He says, grabbing your hips to guide you as you sit down, the warmth of his body comforting as you rest against his broad chest, his hands roaming your body before he buries his hand between your thighs, nothing in the way of him getting to your sweet sex. You hold your tied hands close to your chest as he uses two fingers to tease you, circling your aching hole as your head falls back onto his shoulder, your thighs parting to give him better access.

“You’re so wet down here, Puppy. I cant wait to fill you up with my cock. But I need to get you ready first, there’s no way you’d be able to handle it. Gotta stretch you out nice and good.” He says into your ear, slipping the two fingers as deep as they can go inside of you, making you moan out his name as you arch your back, your ass grinding against the hard bulge in his pants. “Fuck.” He groans, wrapping his arm around your stomach to hold you closer to him. “Careful now, Doll, you don’t want me to get too rough now, do you?” He asks, his teeth grazing your neck again as he pumps his fingers into you, his palm brushing against your sensitive bud with each thrust. You don’t respond, because frankly, you’d love for him to lose control, to be rough with you and make you lose your mind. He spreads his fingers inside of you, stretching you out a bit more before slipping a third in there, your body moving again, making him sink his teeth into your neck to hold back a groan. “That’s it. Get up, Puppy, and get on your knees.” He orders, pulling his fingers out of you. You pout as this loss of warmth inside of you, but you di as he says, eager to please him and do whatever he says.

“Now, you’re going to stay nice and still, and keep your mouth open, and let me face fuck you, alright?” He says, standing in front of you. “Yes sir.” You nod, your jaw falling open, obediently waiting to please him. You hear his zipper, the clothes shifting, and before you know it, the hot feeling of his cock brushing against your lips, resting heavy on your awaiting tongue as he hisses at the contact, slowly inching deeper into your mouth. “Ah, fuck Puppy, such a good girl. Take it all in.” He moans, your mouth filling up quickly. You never got to see what it looked like, but his cock is a lot bigger than you expected, your mouth can barely open wide enough to take it. Breathing becomes difficult, but you try your best to breathe through your nose, wishing desperately to see what he looks like from this angle. You’ve waited years for this moment, and now that you’re finally here, you can’t even get to fully enjoy it. But, as long as you’re here, doing what he wants, being useful to him, its more than you ever imagined you’d get, so its best to take what you can.

His hand moves to the back of your head, pushing you down further onto him until you gag around him, a guttural moan rumbling in his throat. “Fuck, that was so good. You look so cute choking on my cock, Puppy. Now, let’s take this pesky thing off. I want you to look at me while I use that slutty little mouth of yours.” He says, untying the tie and letting it fall as your eyes adjust. You whimper as you look up, the image before you better than you could’ve ever imagined. Izuku standing above you, holding your head as he stuffs your mouth with his cock, his cheeks flushed as he bites his lip, the top buttons of his shirt undone to reveal the tones muscle underneath, littered with scars from previous battles. “There we go. You look so beautiful like this, so perfect. Makes me want to ruin you even more.” He smirks, shoving his member back into your mouth, making you gag on it again as tears stain your eyes. “That’s it. Feels so good, Doll. Just relax. You can take it, take it like a fucking champion.” He moans, continuing to thrust into your mouth, your tongue moving around him every now and then, lips tightening around him, anything to make it even better for him. The entire time you keep looking up at him, admiring him, watching as he loses himself, lost in the pleasure you’re giving him. You feel proud, proud that you can do this, make him feel like this, its all because of you. “Ah, Puppy, Puppy you feel so good. I want more, I want so much more.” He groans, pulling out, leaving you a slobbering mess. “Stand up, and face the wall over there. Now.” He says, holding his cock in his hand. You nod, standing up, your legs slightly shaking and your jaw sore, but you still do what you’re told, putting your hands on the wall in front of you and spreading your legs, sticking your ass out without him even telling you. “Well aren’t you doing such a good job? You really are my cute little Puppy, aren’t you? And I'm your Master. Now, stand still.” He says, the feeling of his cock rubbing against your folds making tremble. “Get ready, Doll. Gonna make you mine right here, right now.” He whispers in your ear before pushing inside of you, the feeling overwhelming as you moan loudly, your forehead hitting the cold stone wall as he pushes all the way into you, filling you up completely in just one thrust. “Shit! Ah, so fucking tight! Fuck it feels so good, you feel so good.” He groans, his fingers digging into your hips as his forehead rests against your shoulder.

“Master, please, move. Please fuck me already. Fuck me hard and make me yours.” You beg, wiggling your hips to get some sort of friction. “Mmm, love hearing you beg for it. Careful what you wish for though, Doll. You’re so fragile, it’ll be so easy to break you. But, since you want it so bad, who am I to deny you?” He smiles, placing a kiss on your neck before pulling back, just to slam back in all the way. Out of no where he starts a brutal pace, your body bouncing to meet each one of his thrusts as you get lost in the overwhelming pleasure he’s giving you. Your moans mix with his almost animalistic grunts as he reaches up, grabbing you by the hair and pulling your head back, the mixture of pain and pleasure almost unbearable. “So good, Puppy, its like your pussy was made for me, to be stuffed full of my fat cock. You love it don’t you? Don’t you? I know I do. Love how you’re squeezing me so tight. Fuck, its perfect.” He moans, your bound hands falling down and hanging limp, the only thing keeping your face from hitting the wall being his hand in your hair.

He pulls out for a moment, only to turn you around and pick you up by the back of your thighs, quicker than you can even process before he’s shoving his member back inside of you, your arms wrapping around his neck as he holds you tight against the wall, bouncing your whole body on his cock as he fucks you hard and deep, just like you always wanted. “That’s it, that’s the perfect angle. Look at it, Puppy. Look down and watch me fuck that pretty little hole of yours. Its beautiful, we’re making such a mess.” He says, his forehead resting against yours as you look down to see what he’s talking about. Just seeing it, watching as he disappears inside of you, his shaft covered in your juices, your thighs glistening with the slick, you couldn’t help but get even more turned on. “Its just like you wanted. We’re one, and you’re mine. I’m making your wildest dreams come true, and you’re going to be mine forever. There’s no way I’m letting you go now.” He says, kissing you hard and taking your breath away, the kiss holding so much passion, so much love, than you ever imagined. It made your mind go blank, the only thing you could think of was him, how he felt, how he smelled, how he tasted, his everything, it was all you wanted and more, so much more, it was him, and he was yours now, just as much as you were his. Anyone willing to weasel their way between the two of you would regret it instantly. There was no way you’d let anyone take him away from you. You’d kill them in a heart beat.

“I love you. Don’t want, ah, anyone to take you away. Wanna be yours forever.” You moan, your head resting on his shoulder. “You don’t ever have to worry about that. You’ll be mine forever, that’s a promise, baby.” He says, kissing your cheek before burying his face in the nape of your neck. You could feel it, the welling of love inside of you, the burning in your tummy, the way he pounded against your sweet spot inside of you and the way he grinded against your clit, it was all too much. “Ah, ah fuck, mmm, ‘Zuku.” You moaned, wishing your hands were free so you could grab onto his hair. “That’s it, Puppy. So close, cum with me Puppy. Come on, let me feel you. Do it.” He groans, biting into your shoulder as you cry out his name, tumbling over the edge of you let go, gushing around him as he keeps fucking into you. He groans loudly, his nails digging into your skin as his thrusts halt, the feeling of his warmth filling you up, so much that it leaks out of you, dripping onto his pants as his sweat falls from his forehead onto your shoulder, both of you taking a moment to catch your breathe as he holds you close.

“My god, Doll. Guess you really are mine now, huh? Fuck, I’ve been waiting to do that for years.” He chuckles breathlessly, making you smile. He pulls out of you, a trail of your cum mixed together running down your leg as you tremble, not string enough to hold yourself up. “Careful now, just relax.” He says, sitting down on the ground and pulling you down as well, positioning you to sit between his legs, laying back against him. “Now, who do you belong to?” He asks, fingers running through your hair. “You, sir.” You mumble your eyelids growing heavy. “And who are you going to stand by no matter what?” “You, sir.” You say again. “That’s right. You’re mine now. All mine.”

#mha smut #villain deku #mha x reader #deku #izuku Midoriya #bnha #bhna fanfiction

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orsuliya · 3 years

Text

Dear General, just talk to your wife!

Let it be said: any male hero who interferes in his partner’s reproductive ability without her permission and/or knowledge is usually immediately cancelled in my eyes. That is certainly the case for any piece of media set in modern times. Fantasy/historical heroes get a bit of leeway depending on the cultural context, although not always. But the thing is, just as there are no blanket excuses, there are also no blanket condemnations. And you know what?

I do have to give Xiao Qi a get-out-of-immediate-cancellation card in this case! But not before examining his motivations and all mitigating circumstances. To be clear, I’m up to episode 37 at the moment.

So prepare yourself for Five Reasons Xiao Qi Is Very Much Not Cancelled (But He Certainly Deserves A Very Stern Talking To And Then Maybe A Hug).

To recap: Xiao Qi was told that Awu’s health is fragile and while she is able to get pregnant, any pregnancy is very risky and a considerable danger to her life. Upon hearing this he is visibly moved; three months later, when Awu comes back from the temple, there is a re-do wedding at the Yuzhang Manor, during which Xiao Qi announces that Wang Xuan is going to be the only woman in his life. At some point – either at the temple or after the wedding – Awu starts taking medicine prescribed by the Imperial Physician. The medicine, as Auntie Xu later discovers, is actually a tonic, which can be used to prevent conception. Eventually, though, after a year or two of continuous use, it will render a woman infertile for life. As of episode 37 (41 if I choose to trust the raws) Awu does not know what is going on.

And now onto the list!

1. The man is probably the most panicked he has ever been in his life and his mental state is not that great at the moment.

The first thing to remember is that this whole ‘let’s make Awu infertile’ decision is not taken in a void. It is not a case of an isolated event; the choice comes at an end of a veritable Trauma Conga Line. The exact timeline is very muddled, but in the last few months (up to a year) Awu has been: kidnapped, rescued, attacked by assasins, forced to deal with a rebelling city and then a siege, sent straight into a murderous conspiracy and then recruited to deal with a coup… and only then she was put in the very centre of a second coup courtesy of Daddy Wang. Which caused her to lose her child and her mother on the same day. And let’s not forget all the broken illusions about her family and her first love. That’s a lot to deal with and she is pure steel with a spine of titanium, there is no doubt as to that. But she is not the only one who’s had a really hard year.

From the kidnapping onwards Xiao Qi has been with Awu on this road; more often that not away from her physically, true, but from the moment he declared her his wife who will share his life and death…? He’s been in 100%. And being the strong, dependable, ride or die guy has taken its toll, one way or another.

It is quite noticeable that with every Big Damn Heroes moment he pulls off he gets more and more affected. The bridge rescue and its aftermath? Cool as a cucumber; the guilt and responsibility is certainly there, no fear though. Breaking of Huizhou siege? He’s proud as hell of her accomplishments, but he really came at the very last moment – she was getting ready to be killed rather than taken hostage. And there is this noticeable undertone of relief there. The Red Wedding? By then he is panicking. Hard. Which he readily admits, so it’s not pure conjecture. This man, who has never been afraid of attacking armies and not really afraid of death either, is scared as f***. Mind you, it’s not like he’s ever had anyone to be really scared for before; his soldiers are a different case altogether. And this time he was late, which makes for a really fertile soil for various ‘what-ifs’ during those two days when Awu is unconscious. He was late despite basically pulling off a miracle and risking entering the capital with only 10 000 troops.

And then and only then Daddy Wang pulls out all the stops. Two days of watching his unconscious wife is nothing compared to what happens then. First she runs into the middle of opposing forces, completely disregarding any danger to herself. For him (and her father, but that is beside the point)! I am sure that Song Huaien relayed her words to Xiao Qi once the dust settled. Then... Princess Jinmin dies and Awu starts bleeding.

After… After he claims responsibility for Princess Jinmin’s death. There is no doubt he is feeling doubly, triply responsible for the miscarriage. He can’t really help his wife. And he is grieving for their child. Not only for Awu’s sake, but for his own too.

It all culminates with the Imperial Physician telling Xiao Qi that there is another battle to be fought, one which Awu will probably enter with minimal hesitation and in which he is not going to be able to pull a Big Damn Heroes rescue. So in that moment he clutches at his heart… And – at least I think that’s the moment - takes a split-second decision: NOT AGAIN. Everything after that? He’s only holding to a chosen course.

2. He is feeling guilty as all hell and is overcompensating hard.

Xiao Qi is the epitome of a hyper-responsible hero. And not in the ‘Woe is me, everything is my fault!’ way that brooding heroes tend to veer to. No empty anguish or dramatic self-flagellation there! He is very matter of fact about both his responsibility and perceived guilt. Soldiers die under his command? He will honour their memory and take care of their families. Awu gets kidnapped by his personal enemy? He will admit his guilt without any excuses and offer recompense. Princess Jinmin becomes a victim of a stand-off that he did not even provoke? He will take the blame and then redeem himself by swearing an oath that he will not fail to protect Awu. And he takes his oaths very, very seriously, otherwise the Ma family would have a Really Big Problem.

All that responsibility comes from both his own character and the force of habit. Nobody ever worries about me, he says. To his soldiers he is the strong, infallible one and so he keeps this facade intact despite knowing it’s a load of bull.

So this hyper-responsible man has unwittingly sent his wife into danger, into battle (!) three times already (kidnapping, rebellion in Huizhou, Zilu’s coup) and was part of the reason she entered the fourth one. And while she has acquitted herself brilliantly every time, she paid a very steep price for saving him/the Empire. In his mind, he owes it to her and to Princess Jinmin for it to never ever happen again. And so he is not going to send her into the battle of childbirth for anything under the sun! The thing is, Awu is brave as hell and would enter it willingly in a blink of an eye. So he is arranging things so that she can never do that in the first place.

3. Xiao Qi is trying to spare Awu from mental and emotional anguish. It’s a pattern and one wildly spiraling out of control.

It’s really, really starting to show that Xiao Qi is used to being regarded as the infallible one, the one who must always find a solution and save as many people as he can. And while it is not a problem in Ningshuo, when he needs to tell Awu the truth about her father (and still he hesitates!), it tends to come through quite strongly in moments of stress and/or danger. Which is understandable, I think. In Ningshuo the stakes are not as high, everybody is safe and they are in the middle of Xiao Qi’s fortress, the very centre of his power. If there is any place he feels safe and at home, it’s right there. The capital is a wholly different kettle of fish; even on his first visit Xiao Qi is – quite reasonably – wary and on guard. For him the capital is behind enemy lines. So he reverts to his Infallible General mindset more and more: he keeps telling Awu things, but not all of them (money) and not always immediately (Hulans asking for a bride). Which is really stupid of him since Awu is in many areas just as smart - if not smarter - than him.

It’s not only the Infallible General mindset, though. In fact, that is the least of the problems there. By this point the panic is really setting in and so is the guilt. There is one more thing, though. Xiao Qi has this tendency towards self-deprecation. He does not wallow in it, but the undercurrent of his perceived social inferiority emerges from time to time, moreso in the capital. And it does factor in his behaviour; I sense that he has this need to keep deserving her. Coupled with devotion, it pushes him into a very touching, but also potentially dangerous single-mindedness.

Saving Daddy Wang by kneeling all night long clearly shows that Xiao Qi will stop at nothing to spare Awu’s heart, life and health. Personal pride? Enmity towards Daddy Wang? Political expedience? Disregarded completely. So what’s a year or two of lying if it means Awu lives? He’s set himself a Goal: protect Awu, just as he promised before Princess Jinmin’s grave. And it’s really been blinding him since.

Notice that he did not tell her about saving Daddy Wang either. She had to find out from His Imperial Spudness! True, it all worked out fine then, but whatever his reasons, he still did not tell her. And yes, I get that his reasons were really noble, but! But it is still a pattern, one that I hope she will break him out of rather sooner than later.

4. He is making a great sacrifice too; hear me out! And he does not leave himself an out.

This is the kind of argument that launches a flaming discussion, so please, be gentle. Anyway, we are not going to speak of whether any man has the right to make unilateral decisions about his wife’s body, that’s neither here nor there in this case, since it does not really enter into consideration in the drama itself.

What is clearly very important in the drama is the idea of family lines. The Wang and Xie families are all about this idea of legacy and bloodlines. Bloodlines are Important: propagating the bloodline is Wang Su’s main duty and both families fight over whose blood will sit on the throne. This clan mentality is clearly a Very Serious Business. Admittedly, Xiao Qi is an outsider to the clan-based society of upper classes. But even though his primary social group consists of his brothers-in-arms, he is very acutely attuned to the idea of family being the most important thing. It shows in many aspects of his life: in the care he gives to his soldiers’ families, in the consideration he gives Awu when she encounters another heartbreaking truth about her relatives and in the way he seems to take for granted that she will not stop caring for Daddy Wang no matter what. Also, he clearly likes kids, the mysterious shadow child gave us this much.

So it is not out of the realm of possibility that he would really like to have a child of his own. And why wouldn’t he? Awu may have trouble bearing him children, but there is nothing stopping him from taking a concubine or a dozen for this very purpose. Any other man in this drama would have (maybe except Zilu…?). And the society would not judge him, especially if the truth about Awu’s condition came out. It really is not a monogamistic society. Moreover, since Daddy Wang is not in the picture any more, nobody can even try to force Xiao Qi to keep to one bed (or poison his concubine…), not with his current position and power.

And what is the very first thing he does after Awu comes home? He declares – in public and with great pomp! - that Awu will be his only woman, thus staking his honor and reputation on all his children being hers. Which with the tonic in play means that there will be no children. It is a decision he takes very deliberately and in direct response to the previous events and the Wangs’ fall from grace. In fact, I wager this whole monogamy clause is a way not only to quell the rumours and stop any scheming families in their tracks, but also to keep things fair as much as it is even possible. Awu will not have children, well, neither will he.

5. He is setting himself up and preemptively hogging all the guilt and blame.

The short yet very poignant exchange with Pang Gui in episode 37 makes it clear that Xiao Qi knows quite well he is going to be found out sooner or later. Sure, he would rather that Pang Gui kept mum about everything, but in reality he leaves it wholly up to his judgment. Which tells me that Xiao Qi is not willing to ‘kill’ for this secret. In fact, it might suit his plans if it were to come out… though not at the moment. Maybe after the requisite year or two, once Awu is no longer in any danger. Relying on what we know about his character, I think he is wholly prepared for the truth to eventually come out and then to take all the blame. And I mean ALL the blame. As in: Awu will have no reason to blame herself for her fragile health and thus inability to bear children, if it’s actually Xiao Qi’s fault. He will have gotten her infertile, so her actual ability to give birth safely will be immaterial. She will put all her anger on him and not on herself, and anger he can take, it’s her getting quiet that he can’t cope with. And to hell with what it does to their marriage, she will be alive. Is it stupid, stupid thinking? Sure. But quite probable when you’re dealing with a man this hyper-responsible and clearly unused to family dynamics.

And that’s that. Do I think he is being a single-minded fool? Sure. The man is not perfect after all! Does he need to talk to Awu? Of course, but I get where his unwillingness to do just that comes from. Is it going to bite him in the ass really, really hard? Oooooh, is it! But Xiao Qi is not cancelled and if Awu forgives him, then so should we all.

#this rant may be long and unneeded #but so very satisfying #XIAO QI IS VERY MUCH NOT CANCELLED #why? because I say so #feel free to disagree #the rebel princess #monarch industry #rebel princess meta

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itsuki-minamy · 3 years

Text

“K - THE FIRST STORY”

CHAPTER 8: THE MAN IN THE SKY (Complete)

* K - The First Story (List of Chapters) * Projects & Chapters

Translation: Naru-kun Raws: Ridia

Sunlight reflected off the surface of the sea and shone. The winter morning breeze was cold, but today, the cold was pleasant for the boy.

Gakuenjima can be seen across the sea from the boy's line of sight. A monorail passed under the connecting bridge that connected the continental side where the boy and the island were located. It seems that the students going to school in Gakuenjima were on board.

Until yesterday, it was a place full of everyday life. But now it seems terribly far away. Every day until yesterday felt like a happy dream that disappeared as soon as he woke up.

Looking back, Kuro with Neko asleep, looks at the boy with a complicated face. Neko, who escaped from "Scepter 4" during the night and used her full potential, began to feel drowsy on the way, and Kuro, who couldn't see her, turned his back on her.

Neko, who put her cheeks on his shoulders and fell asleep with a small sigh, her face was unprotected.

On the other hand, Kuro looks at the boy with a worried expression. He may be worried about the boy that he lost everything he believed in overnight. He would never admit that he was worried.

(What does it look like?)

The boy gave Kuro a warm smile.

It's probably due to Kuro's innate goodness piggybacking Neko swinging back on himself and that he's worried about the boy who may have to be cut off. The boy no longer thinks of Kuro as a scary person. He doesn't believe that even that person named "Ichigen-sama" gave him a terrible order to kill the evil "King".

"Hmm...", Neko leaked a difficult voice behind her and widened her almond-shaped eyes.

"Ah!"

When the surrounding landscape was reflected in hers eyes, Neko's facial expression filled with joy, she jumped off Kuro's back and she ran off. It seems Neko has no problem not saying a single thank you, and she just rolled her shoulders.

"It's our house!"

Neko ran to the beach and spread her arms as if she was trying to hug the school island.

"I am back!"

Neko sat on the grass near the pier and looked at the school island with a feeling of security. The boy smiled and knelt next to Neko.

"I am back..."

It was the boy who wanted to come here. However, the boy was not as obedient as Neko.

"What is this to me?"

He just whispered to him. Kuro made a calm voice as he looked at Gakuenjima.

"I must say I came again because it was all fake. Was it okay to come here with the Blue Clan chasing us?"

The boy is aware that this is risky behavior. Still, he came here again to take a look at the Gakuenjima scenery.

He's not going back there now. The boy who has already been freed from Neko's power, is no longer Isana Yashiro. He must know himself since he is not that person. No matter what kind of person he is, he has to regain his true self and make it up to him if he is guilty of it.

"It's okay!"

Neko made a loud voice to interrupt the boy's thoughts.

"Because this is our house!"

Neko's words rang out without hesitation, and the boy blinked and inadvertently put the word "house" in his mouth.

Home. A place to return.

The word created a slight temperature in the boy's empty chest. He slowly spread throughout his body and permeated him. The temperature was soaking in the back of his eyes and he realized that he was about to cry.

The boy raised his hand and gently stroked Neko's head.

"Yes. Before that, there was nothing. And although it was all fake, the last few days I spent with everyone were real. That's why it's okay to say that I have returned home."

Kukuri called him Shiro-kun. She used to tell him: Welcome Shiro-kun. Come early!

Shiro! Mishina was casually slapping his shoulder. Shiro! Do not deviate. I am waiting for fries. Let's eat together when we get back!

Now that he is not under Neko's power, they will no longer remember the boy. Even so, it certainly was Yashiro Isana at the time when they called him that. Certainly that was the place he called his home.

"Now I understand. I came back here to etch this place on my heart."

The boy closed his eyes.

He had nothing for sure now. The beloved everyday life he believed in was false, and all that remains in the boy is the mysterious memory of being shot down by a long silver-haired man from the top of an airship.

"I can't remember anything more than that, that's why I'm scared."

The boy looked back at Gakuenjima. His heart was already calm. The confusion and sadness have passed, and the boy's heart is determined.

"Let's get rid of everything. To start the real days here again."

"Shiro!" Neko jumped up and brought the boy warm body temperature.

"Shiro.", He looks at the boy with a strong gaze that Kuro hasn't given up on.

Now Kuro and Neko are close to the boy, whose existence has turned into Shiro, and they call him Shiro.

He is still Yashiro Isana.

++++++++++

In the office tea room, Munakata was making tea while he listened to Awashima's report. He made a slight noise and produced fine tea bubbles.

"As mentioned above, due to the rainy weather, each unit could not track. Until now, there is no relevant person in the transport monitoring network."

"I see. Not only did he escape my eyes, but he also evaded Fushimi-kun, who took command of the chase, and it seems like it was no accident that he was able to hide until now."

Awashima bowed slightly, put her tablet aside, and began to brew tea.

"Currently, we are reducing the siege on Ashinaka High School while following the expected escape route..."

Awashima puts anko from a tin on top of delicate Japanese sweets that seem to go well with tea, which is a beautiful flower-shaped Japanese sweet that is placed on a plate.

Munakata gently averted his eyes from the brutal sight.

"It will be difficult to capture. Apparently he is elusive. Besides, those two... what a disgusting opponent."

Awashima seriously listened to Munakata's words and placed a mountain of thick stalks on top of Japanese sweets using about three cans of red bean paste in front of Munakata. Munakata raised his glasses silently.

"I am Fushimi."

He banged on the office door and a voice was heard from outside. Fushimi rushed into the office when they replied "Please come in." Awashima looked back at Fushimi and asked energetically.

"What happen?"

"It has been reported that a member of the follow-up investigation has just been attacked and transported."

"What is the exact time of the attack and what unit was he in?"

"Chikushi, third division officer in the Eastern District, about 15 minutes ago."

"What is the degree of damage?"

"Only minor bruises, but his PDA was stolen."

Munakata, who was listening to the exchange between Awashima and Fushimi, raised his eyebrows slightly at the words.

"His PDA?"

"I am monitoring your assigned area."

Fushimi handled the tablet in his hand and projected the hologram on the screen into the air. He projected a map of the area around the stadium, which was the site of last night.

"Is the assailant known?"

“It's about the Black Dog. Chikushi said that he didn't see the other two."

Awashima frowned suspiciously. As Awashima thought about it, Munakata casually avoided the mountain of red bean paste placed in front of him.

"That night, Kuroh Yatogami continued to haunt that neighborhood."

Munakata watched.

"This was not an attack, he was just looking to make contact. Fushimi-kun, was there anything left at the scene that could be a message from them?"

"Just an object."

Fushimi also handled the tablet. Another photo appeared on the map showing the hologram screen. It was a note scrawled like "1400."

The time now is 13:45.

"I see."

Munakata exchanged glances with Awashima. Without waiting for Munakata's instructions, Awashima took her PDA and began preparing to start the reverse detection system.

Everyone in the office didn't need any more words.

Until 2:00 p.m. 15 minutes until the time indicated by "1400". There is almost nothing to do now but wait.

"Fushimi-kun, why don't you sit here and wait?"

Awashima relaxed her tone like a nimble boss and said with a voice close to private.

Fushimi showed a momentary movement, but found a terrifying mountain of red bean paste next to Munakata, and pulled his cheeks away.

"Here is ok."

"Well then, let's notify the reserve team at headquarters to prepare for the emergency dispatch."

Fushimi seemed relieved to be given a job instead of anko, and responded immediately.

The fifteen-minute wait felt as long as it was. Fushimi quickly contacted the reserve team, Munakata served Awashima the tea, and Awashima drank it beautifully. Munakata laid the monstrous bean paste aside without touching it, closing his eyes with his arms crossed as if he were next to a monster. The incoming call came in exactly at 2:00 p.m.

As the digital clock shows 14:00, Munakata's PDA rings an incoming call.

Munakata slowly took out the PDA. As expected, it was an incoming call from the PDA possessed by the attacked Tsukushi.

"I am Munakata Reisi. Who are you?"

"Isana Yashiro, or so they tell me."

He hears the same sweet voice from the boy who was at the stadium last night. Awashima operated her own PDA and began reverse detection.

"I suspected it could be you. You took a very aggressive method."

"I'm sorry. I couldn't think of another way to speak without getting caught."

"Hm. First, I'll hear what you have to say."

"It's a long story, and I will say briefly that the man in the airship is deeply involved in the murder. They treat me like a criminal, but I don't remember anything about it."

"Do you know what you're saying?"

"What?"

The reverse detection result came out. Munakata raises a hand towards Fushimi as he continues the conversation, and Fushimi bows his head slightly and immediately exits. Apparently, the suspect is moving down the Metropolitan Freeway while he calls. Awashima begins contacting him to order an inspection of the Metropolitan Highway.

What do you know about the man in the airship?"

"Just enough of a small talk."

"So you can understand that it's too important to be dragged into this, just because you claim to be innocent? I think you could at least show your goodwill by giving yourself up right now."

"When you watch a detective drama, you may realize that there is no point in shouting that you are innocent in prison. That is why I decided to turn myself in for the right price."

"I see, you are a difficult man to handle."

In fact, it was unexpected that he came out so bold. He met him at the stadium last night, and although he felt the rotation of his head and the force of the game, he seemed quite hungry overnight, even though he had a remarkably unreliable side.

"That's it. So, in that transaction, if they promise to bring the blimp guy ashore so I can ask him some questions, I'll turn myself in. How about that?"

"I'd like to agree since you're willing to go so far, but the suspect's allegations in the case aren't enough to interfere with him. Even if you end up turning yourself in, if you're at a disadvantage, are your two remaining friends supposed to come to rescue you?"

"Haha, you're right. After all, was it too good?"

"No, let's accept your terms."

"Huh?" I hear a voice of real surprise from the other side of the PDA.

"I am saying that I, Reisi Munakata, the Fourth and Blue King, will stop the man from the airship, also known as the First and Silver King, Adolf K. Weismann."

Awashima is also surprised. Munakata turned his palm toward her and held it.

"If you feel like it, come visit us. Let's arrange a meeting to clear up the case. However, in that case, all three people will show up."

There was no answer. The other side of the PDA was silent and the call was cut off.

Did the matter end or did you notice the signs from Fushimi and others running towards the fountain?

"I hope Fushimi and the rest of him can hold back."

"If he can do that, it will probably be difficult. Isana seems to be an intelligent person, and Kuroh Yatogami has both cognitive and manipulative tendencies."

Frankly speaking, Awashima sighed deeply. She looked at Munakata with a thoughtful look.

"Captain… you accept that person's request and will you seriously try to stop a king?"

"Not well?"

"It's unreasonable. It would be nice if the 'Silver King' accepted the talks in a relaxed way, but when it comes to hard-line measures, it could be a battle between kings. You know how dangerous it is!"

Awashima stared at Munakata and appealed by leaning forward.

The danger is justified. However, Munakata thought that this was an inescapable path.

"Awashima-kun. I would like to meet the 'Silver King', who is a 'King' but he is roaming the sky without knowing anything about earth."

Munakata has never seen how he is the "Silver King". The "Silver King" does not meet anyone. He climbed into his airship alone and continues to float in the sky. Only the "Golden King" Kokujoji Daikaku knows him.

"The "Silver King", who has invariable attributes, seems to still be young, but he is the oldest surviving "King". In years he is like the "Golden King", who is an old man. He who keeps flying in the sky for almost 70 years, he thinks that being a spectator is his role as "King". If he resigns his duty as "King" and fled to heaven, I think he is an irresponsible man, but it does not matter. The problem is that it can be a malicious person for this world."

Tension runs in Awashima's expression. Munakata dared to smile at her.

"The "Silver King" Adolf K. Weismann, was an ally of the "Golden King" Kokujoji Daikaku during World War II. In fact, even now, Daikaku Kokujoji offers great comfort to the "Silver King". The personality and the bases Daikaku Kokujoji's are true. If Daikaku Kokujoji believes in him, I think he's a decent person."

Munakata got to his feet, left the tea room, and stood in front of the office desk, his back to Awashima.

"Awashima-kun. Is it possible for a person to remain alone for decades in an isolated place without altering his mind? Do you think that the unchanging 'King' has an unchanging heart?"

"Captain..."

"If the first 'King' may have fallen into evil, we must confirm it as soon as possible, even if it is dangerous."

Awashima still had an uneasy look on her face.

It is a natural history. The more serious the battle between kings, the greater the danger that the Sword of Damocles will fall. A dozen years ago, as a result of the collision between the predecessor "Red King" and "Blue King", the sword of Damocles of the "Red King" fell and created a huge crater in the southern region of Kanto, changing the shape of the Japanese archipelago.

At that time, the "Blue King" also started a chain of outbursts that caused his vassals to die, but there is a past in which he avoided more disasters.

Already holding a large fire called "Red King" Suoh, who is endangering Weismann's deviation, now that he is chasing a person who calls himself "Colorless King", he fully understands the feeling of reluctance.

"But... as an action to be taken in accordance with the words of the suspect who seems to intend to use this... also..."

Munakata laughed.

"No. Aside from his words, I also have reason to doubt 'King Silver'."

"A reason...?"

When Awashima tried to lean forward, the PDA rang. Awashima shifted her posture and responded immediately. The other party appeared to be Fushimi, who ran to the source of Isana Yashiro's communication, but informed her that they were unable to capture him and only found an elaborate PDA.

Munakata approached the window as he listened to Awashima's voice, who gave the following instructions appropriately.

In the distant sky, he saw the "Silver King" airship, which was as small as a bean.

++++++++++

The black cat meowed.

In the reference room of the "Scepter 4 General Affairs Division", Zenjo looked out the window, holding a pile of old files that were about to fade in his arm. He could see many members rushing back and forth.

During the last ten days, the murder of the red clan member by the new "Colorless King" and the capture of the "Red King" have not rushed into the headquarters, but today the air is even more urgent and there is tension.

But that was also irrelevant to this library, which almost only served as a warehouse for ancient materials. The storm didn't get that far either.

There was a knock on the door of the data room and a woman named Yoshino, an employee of the "General Affairs Section", showed her face.

"It's going to be amazing today."

Yoshino said, she opened the can of cat food that she brought and put it on the plate on the floor. A black cat looking out the window happily walked in and sniffed.

This black cat somehow lives in this library. It was not his intention to keep him like a good cat, but the members treated him like a good cat. Apparently, this cat has a talent for catching mice, and Yoshino, who was concerned about the damage caused by mice in the "General Affairs Section Office", came to donate the cat's food every day.

"What happened again?"

When Yoshino asked while she cleaned up the materials, she rolled her eyes behind her large glasses.

"Don't you hear? It seems that the operation will take place from now on, surrounding the Himmelreich with a helicopter and trying to catch the 'Silver King'."

"That is incredible."

"Zenjo-san, aren't you surprised?"

"I'm surprised."

It's probably because his facial expression didn't move much. Yoshino looked at Zenjo suspiciously.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. The 'Silver King' didn't come down even when Kagutsu Genji was there, but is he going to come down to the ground now?"

There was an indescribable emotion and Yoshino muttered with a downcast gaze. Yoshino bowed her head and looked mysteriously at the depressed Zenjo.

Zenjo was an assistant to the predecessor "Blue King", Habari Jin, and was part of the case involving the downfall of Damocles from the predecessor "Red King", Kagutsu Genji.

However, to Yoshino, Zenjo is just a man who organizes materials all day in this dimly lit room.

"The 'Silver King' is the 'King' who has been in heaven the entire time."

"Yes, it's correct."

As he looked at the black cat eating the food that Yoshino gave him, Zenjo suddenly remembered the words of his predecessor, the "Blue King", who was not Reisi Munakata.

(Because that is the "King of Immutability." The flow of time may be different from ours. Just as insects and people do not live with the same experience, the speed of time that flows differ according to the moment of life. The "Silver King" can spend fifty years thinking that Kagutsu will come to a conclusion in five seconds.)

Will man finally change his way of life? Can they change him? Or has he changed?

He thought about it, but soon his thoughts were cut off. He is not apt to think.

"If that's the case, you may be too busy."

"Usually I am supposed to be very busy with various procedures, but this time I am moving forward with the Captain's power, so the floor clerk's job is not so much now. Maybe it will be difficult after this. I'm sure."

"Is that so."

"That's right."

The black cat that finished eating the food began to wash its face with satisfaction.

"Emergency dispatch, emergency dispatch. Divisions 1-5 will intercept Himmelreich and take into custody the First and 'Silver King', Adolf K, Weissmann."

The broadcast in the room is played from the headquarters loudspeakers.

The black cat howled again.

++++++++++

The interior of the "Scepter 4" command vehicle was spacious, and simple desks and chairs were set up for meetings to take place. The desk was now surrounded by Munakata and various members of the mission. The command vehicle circulated on the road at night towards the Suzugaya heliport where a large number of helicopters mobilized by the police await.

Awashima was at Munakata's side and gave a report.

"Still no response from the First 'King', the third request for communication was sent at 17:00."

"We have completed the necessary paperwork. Now we are going to take him into custody."

Munakata's statement creates an atmosphere of tension and anxiety among the members.

Awashima was still not convinced of this operation. Although Munakata was fully confident, abnormal situations occur in quick succession. In particular, there was the case of the "Red King", and she felt that Munakata might be impatient.

Awashima turns to Munakata to discuss the members' anxieties.

"But under Agreement 120, we do not have the authority to investigate the Himmelreich airship, which belongs to the First 'King'. I think we should obtain permission from the Second and 'Golden King' before proceeding."

"For whatever reason, he will not allow me to get near the First 'King'. That is why I will move as much as I can until he stops me."

At Munakata's words, Awashima was a bit embarrassed to be like a child who was afraid of being scolded by her words, and she cleared her throat in a hurry.

"So at least, can you tell us why we're going so far on this?"

Due to her statement, the members' questionable eyes met on Munakata.

"It's fine."

Munakata replied.

"In the first place, this is not a sudden action inspired by Yashiro Isana. It is true that his request has made me decide to act, but I have always been aware of the First 'King's suspicious behavior."

"Is the suspicious behavior related to the series of incidents?"

Awashima asked. Before Munakata answered, Fushimi, who had been silent until then, made a frustrated voice.

"The 'Silver King' is simply floating in the sky in an airship, and the average person thinks he is an urban legend, right? How could it be related to the current case?"

Munakata projected a map of Tokyo in the air for everyone to see.

"Let's explain step by step. For decades, the Himmelreich airship has been navigating various patterns. Except for mistakes in stormy weather, the following 15 patterns."

According to the Munakata operation, 15 types of ordered routes appear on the map projected in the air.

"Originally, it looks like they were flying the optimal route compared to the weather conditions, but now they are."

Fifteen routes on the map disappeared and random lines like children's graffiti appeared on the map.

The members sensed it. There were no rules, and they stared at the random route, which seemed to vary on a whim.

"I became aware of this change only a few days ago. At first, I thought I was doing nothing more than flying along an unusual trajectory. But due to what was happening, I contacted the Air Traffic Control of the Ukita Airport, just in case. As a result, it became clear that the route began to meander as shown in the figure immediately after an incident, the routes that it had maintained for decades had abruptly changed from that point on. What is natural to suspect?"

Having said that, Munakata echoed Fushimi.

"Last night, he also approached the stadium."

Fushimi stopped and made a little surprised face. He clenched his fist in frustration at his carelessness. Awashima opened her mouth.

"No way... that incident..."

Munakata sharpens his gaze. The random route on the map disappears like a rewind and stops at a certain point.

It showed a point in the Shizume construction district. The address and "December 7, 11:45 PM, Totsuka Tatara murder case on the rooftop of the Hirasaka building, Shizume." are displayed next to the one that is lit.

The air in the limbs tightened rapidly.

Munakata stood up and looked at the members with determined eyes.

"From now on, we "Scepter 4" will begin the operation to apprehend Adolf K. Weismann, the First "King" and "Silver King". A person of interest in the Totsuka Tatara assassination case. We will advise you to Himmelreich to land at a designated airport. If he doesn't obey, hurry up and take control of the interior!"

The members stretched their backs and stood up to Munakata's loud voice, which was heard like this only in case of an emergency, and saluted in response with a "Yes!"

++++++++++

Ignoring the radio of "Scepter 4", which was heard many times, many helicopters flew and began to surround the airship.

He sat on the couch and gazed out the large window at the view.

The Himmelreich airship is sometimes called an empty whale by observing humans on the ground. The surrounding "Scepter 4" helicopters were like a school of small fish swimming around a whale.

But it wasn't bad. It is said that, if there are small scales, it will be a masterpiece.

It got fun and the laughter leaked out naturally.

"Nice... Unexpected visitors must be as lively as this!"

He began to play on the spacious floor.

He took steps while singing a hummed song.

"Come on, more! More! More... I'll sneak away!"

The party had just started.

++++++++++

"No, I can't be careful if I want to do it.", The boy laughed, and Kuro frowned and said, "You've been sick since I met you." Perhaps Neko misinterpreted it as a compliment, happily raised her hands and said, "Shiro, Kokatsu!"

The boy was in a "Scepter 4" helicopter trying to reach the Himmelreich, where the First "King" is located. Since his determination in the morning, he was able to get to this point in a whole day, so it would be quite a feat.

However, what the boy did was that Kuro called Munakata with the PDA that he had stolen from a member of "Scepter 4." After that, Munakata installed everything, and at night he settled in and put into practice the capture operation of the Himmelreich. The boy and the others just lurked on the helipad and waited. Then when all the members of "Scepter 4" tried to get on the helicopter, they put them to sleep with the illusion of Neko and Kuro's physique, went into the warehouse and borrowed the helicopter that they were supposed to ride. Currently, they approach the airship among the helicopters flying the members of "Scepter 4".

"By the way, Kuro, why can you control a helicopter?"

"Because I'm Ichigen-sama's disciple. It's natural to be able to do so much."

Kuro was proud. The boy complained like saying "That guy again."

Kuro's maneuver was not dangerous. He followed the instructions on the radio and flew into the formation placed by "Scepter 4."

As the majesty of the Himmelreich, like a whale swimming in the air, approached, the boy's heart began to scream.

Wondering if he was nervous, the boy puts his hand on his chest.

When the helicopters from "Scepter 4" completely surrounded the Himmelreich, the radio instructions came hoarsely.

"Wait just three minutes from the Captain's final recommendation! If the airship does not lower its altitude or does not respond to the light-emitting signal, as soon as you confirm one of them, connect the cable of each machine and hurry!"

At that time, the "Blue King" is about to send the final recommendation to the Himmelreich. The group of helicopters that surround the Himmelreich and stand in an orderly formation in the air is more like soldiers protecting the King of Heaven.

In the hovering helicopter, the boy watched the blimp go by.

"Hey, Kuro."

"What?"

"Can you tell me more about the 'Silver King'?"

"I have not met him in person. I only have fragmentary information that I heard from Ichigen-sama..."

"That's fine. Tell me."

The buzzing in his chest hadn't subsided in a while. Kuro, who is concentrating on maneuvering, replied without looking at the boy.

"Among the seven kings, he is special just like the 'Golden King'. But the most mysterious thing is his nature. The 'Golden King' is called the Second King, just because there is the 'Silver King'."

"In other words, is he the First King?"

"He is the first of all kings, and he rules over heaven. The only being who can compete with the 'Golden King' who is the ruler of earth."

When he was seriously listening to Kuro's story, suddenly a limb light shone from the side and he accidentally closed his eyes.

"Hey, who's the one hitting the reflector on the side of him! It stabilizes your flight more!"

He heard a frustrating scream on the radio.

"Sparkly!"

Neko in the back seat, completely tired of the difficult story, leaned between Kuro and the boy's seat with bright eyes and played with the reflector. Believing that the many switches in the cabin were interesting, Neko began to play with the curiosity of an animal cat.

"Do not behave suspiciously! We will be discovered before boarding!"

"Fu…"

Even if she was scolded, Neko just turned around and didn't care.

"Even if we are able to tackle successfully, there is no way we can stop being bothered by these meddlers."

The boy dared to laugh optimistically at Kuro, who was aware of a large number of helicopter units and had a difficult face. Although he has managed to get transportation so far, he is well aware that he is a mouthful and a great plan. But no matter which route he choose, it's still a tightrope walk. He felt that he could do something if he was with Kuro and Neko.

"Okay, then we'll take it and escape again."

"You don't even have to worry about the bespectacled boss! You see, you can't go up first unless you hurry up more!"

Neko was much more optimistic about what the boy said with such joy, and he suddenly jumped on the control board that Kuro was holding. The helicopter rocked enormously and plunged into the belly of the Himmelreich as it moved like a drunk and staggered.

"Ah, idiot!"

"Who's the idiot? The Captain hasn't made any orders yet!"

Kuro changes his complexion and the most frustrating reprimand comes off the radio.

The boy also drew his face and stared at the suddenly approaching blimp; at that moment, he felt like someone was watching him from the airship.

At the same time, he heard a roar. The dark night sky had turned bright red.

An explosion.

In front of them, the Himmelreich suddenly exploded and was surrounded by flames.

"Eh?"

Only a slight sound escaped the boy's throat.

Suddenly on fire, the whale in the sky lost its ability to fly and died, and fell on the helicopter in which the boy and the others were traveling.

++++++++++

At that moment, Daikaku Kokujoji was alone in front of the Slate.

A huge block of stone called the "Dresden Slate" was under the tempered glass on the floor.

A mysterious relic that was once studied by Kokujoji in a foreign country with friends and dreams, and has now chosen and empowered seven "kings" in Japan.

On the board, Kokujoji was looking at the Himmelreich airship, in which his friend was traveling, engulfed in flames and falling.

"Weismann. You are..."

Behind the window, he looks at the distant sky turning red and mutter under his breath.

#k #k project #k the first story #k novel #Isana Yashiro #Yatogami Kuroh #neko #reisi munakata #Awashima Seri

19 notes · View notes

marie-dufresne · 3 years

Note

Fast forward; the fall of ShinRa. Geostigma is on the rise and Rufus is reduced to a wheelchair. Marie manages to find the lodges and sees her former employer for the first time in almost a year.

@ivory-paragon

There were memories and there were dreams. Lady Marie Devereaux could not tell them apart. How could she, when all of her life had been dictated to her. An accident had wiped her memory entirely, or so she’d been told, and as she ‘recovered’, she was fed stories and pills, stories and pills, stories and pills.

Her husband, Colin, only wanted to see her well again.

Why then, she wondered, despite all his attentiveness and patience and benevolence, did she harbor a raw, deep seated fear of the man?

The things she recalled before she woke up were not real, she’d been told. They never happened, and yet they felt so real. So concrete. She could see faces, hear voices, feel textures.

But for all the things she was told happened?

There was nothing.

Why couldn’t she conjure up a shred of a memory? A familiar smell, or image?

It felt wrong to doubt him when he was waking her up with gentle kisses on her forehead, serving her breakfast on a tray in her suite. They didn’t share a bed in this manor. She needed to recover, he claimed. Then they could be intimate.

It suited Marie just fine. She felt no attraction to her husband as guilty as she felt to admit it, but he’d mentioned they’d been trying for a baby the past few years. They’d try again when she was well.

After three weeks she was left only with a slight limp from where her hip had been injured and after two months, there was no physical evidence left of the accident and she took to what she’d been doing for—how long had they been married? Fourteen years?

It seemed odd to her, to be married for fourteen years and not seek medical help to conceive. If that was right, she’d been all of eighteen and in prime shape for child bearing when they married.

Over the months locked up inside the grand estate, Marie did not begin to trust the past life she didn’t know. Not with the expensive clothes he dressed her in or the jewels or the gourmet foods served to her day in and day out. Instead, she began to doubt.

Her memories, the ones she thought could be real, had faded into nothing more than strange feelings of nostalgia and a recurring nightmare of a bustling street, a telephone, and her crying out for a friend. Or perhaps a lover. She didn’t know.

She didn’t even recall the name.

It happened by accident, her discovery that would either save her or ruin her. Too hasty in picking up her morning tablets, too slow to catch it before it tumbled down the drain. Ah, that was alright. Skipping one dose wouldn’t kill her. They were only meant to keep her balanced. It had been almost a year since she’d been taking them. Surely she’d be fine skipping one dose.

She didn’t tell Colin. It didn’t feel right to tell him, and she carried on, planning out the next season’s gardens, deciding to add an elaborate water feature to the grounds. He liked when she tinkered with the estate. It kept her busy.

Combing through a catalogue of plants, a question popped into her head that had her sitting upright.

What happened to Midgar?

Midgar? She laughed quietly, shaking her head and turning the page. She hated the idea of cities. She hadn’t ever been there, had no desire to be there, so why she was thinking about it now, she didn’t know. And what happened to it? Nothing as far as she knew. Why would anything happen to it? How silly.

The question wore on over the afternoon and it ate at her. It ate at her so much that while Colin was in a meeting in his study, she meandered into the library to tackle the archived newspapers, if only to quell the obnoxious mantra of a question.

That was until she discovered there wasn’t a single newspaper in the library. For a man who made a point of keeping up-to-date on the planet’s happenings…why didn’t he keep newspapers?

She briefly considered asking him casually. How was Midgar these days? Should they make a trip into the city? They were society elites after all. Shouldn’t they show their faces?

Sighing, Marie tapped her fingers onto a standing globe before giving it a little spin. No. She hadn’t been permitted to leave the property since the accident.

Another thing that didn’t sit well with her.

Feeling fuzzy, she opted for a nap. That evening, before bed, she dropped another tablet down the sink.

That night brought her dream, this time with flashes of colour. One colour. Red.

The morning brought her nausea, vomiting, and chills. The dream was gone. The second question Colin asked after her wellbeing was if she’d taken her medication.

He counted them. She’d been smart to dispose of them.

It was all she needed to know something was wrong in her household and through the pain and the sickness, she continued to forego the ‘necessary’ medication. Her dream was stronger, bits and pieces of what seemed like a fantasy were reappearing in her mind, and her fear of Colin Devereaux only grew stronger.

There wasn’t any communication to the outside, save the telephone but she was smarter than to try. They did have an extensive collection of encyclopedia, so again she took to the library. This time it was while he slept, at half past three in the morning. The night, dyslexia, and the tail end of her detox all working against her.

She had the orange pill bottle clenched in her right hand, flipping through the pages of the volume she’d selected, finding nothing. She read the name of the medication seventeen times, working letter by letter to no avail.

She sat back with a sigh, flicking off the tiny lamp she’d brought with her before turning it back on again, eyes roaming the bottle and finding an ‘active ingredient’. That was available in a different volume, and her stomach turned to stone as she read it, chills of a new kind settling underneath her skin.

“….working as a memory suppressant in several trial drugs thought to aid victims of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Never fully tested, it was pulled from all clinical trials due to ethical controversy and potential for misuse.”

With her hands pressed against her mouth, Marie stopped the sobs that shuddered up from her chest. Not here, not now. She had to make it back upstairs, back to her suite where if she was found, she could pretend to have had a nightmare. After that, she had to leave.

It didn’t matter wholly what the truth was anymore, what were memories and what were dreams and what were fantasies. What mattered now was survival. For going on ten months she’d been living with a monster. A man drugging her and manipulating her to what end, she wondered.

The next morning she had a name, a name from her dreams and she felt a little better. It also brought with it a number. She’d always been good with numbers and when she spied the telephone from across the parlor after breakfast, she wondered if he would answer if she dialed.

She had a friend somewhere out there in the world, or had at some point. Maybe he could help her.

But calling him from here was not an option. What if he didn’t remember her? What if she’d done something terrible?

For three days, she resisted the urge to flinch when Colin walked in the room. For three days, she kept her hands busy with estate work and leisure so he couldn’t see them shaking, and for three nights, she combed the encyclopedias until dawn, looking for something she could use to give herself a head start.

Finally, on the fourth night, she added some liquid from a sleeping gel into her husband’s nightly cognac. He wouldn’t sleep suddenly, but he would sleep longer and far more deeply once he turned in.

With only a few pieces of jewelry in her handbag, she slipped out of the one blind spot the estate security offered, and ran into the night.

At sunrise, she found herself in civilization. A small town by the looks of it, directions written on a wooden post at the crossroads. Junon wasn’t far, but she wouldn’t be able to walk there. She’d worn her most sensible shoes, but she’d been running for nearly six hours.

She traded a ring for a a bath, hot breakfast, and a truck ride from the innkeeper who was more than eager to do whatever she needed of him.

In the city, her first stop was a jeweler. Even without memories, she knew that trading would only get her so far. She needed cash. Whether she was truly Lady Devereaux or not didn’t matter; she held herself well enough not to be questioned and left the establishment with a purse full of gil, less the bribe she’d paid to have any evidence of her being there destroyed.

Next, a cellphone. One that couldn’t be traced, that had no bill. What did they call them?

“A….burner phone, ma’am?”

The clerk shifted uncomfortably at the woman before him. She didn’t seem all there.

“Yes,” she replied, straightening a bit. “I need a burner phone.”

“No one who buys one of these it up to anything good, you know,” he joked, “you’re not dealing, are you?”

Handing over the gil, Marie looked up with an icy glare, unappreciative of the humor.

“I’ve just left my abusive husband,” she said, lifting her chin, “and I must find Reno.”

The young boy didn’t hand over the box, instead offering to set it up for her. He didn’t know who this ‘Reno’ was, but if what she said was true, maybe he should help.

“I’ll also need to know the fastest route to Midgar,” she informed him, “I think I belong there.”

The second clerk froze from stocking shelves to look over at the counter, sending the boy a questioning glance. Where was this woman from?

“You’ll uh…you can take a boat,” he settled on, “uh…buy a ticket to ‘Edge’ though.”

Marie accepted the phone he handed her, slipping it into her purse. “Edge?”

Realizing this woman was either off her rocker or had been isolated for too long, the young cashier didn’t want to upset her, so he shrugged with a small smile. “New Port Codes, I think,” he told her instead, “maybe it’ll end up being safer for you too.”

Satisfied with this, Marie headed to the harbor and bought the next ticket on the fastest ship. Alone in her cabin, she lowered herself to the bed. If Colin was after her, there would at least be enough distance between them that when she got to Midgar, she could vanish. Or if not vanish, possibly enlist the help of someone.

With the phone in her hand, her heart raced. She had a number, and she had a name. Aside from that, she had nothing. She didn’t recall this ‘Reno’ or why they were of any importance to her. When had they met? Were they involved with her accident?

She wouldn’t know unless she tried, so with trembling fingers, she dialed. After four rings, there was a voice on the other end.

“Yo listen you got the wrong number.”

Marie’s brow wrinkled. What an odd way to answer the phone.

“…Reno?”

A little sigh, followed by a groan. “Ayyy okay so you ain’t got the wrong number but if this was about the other night, I was drunk and—“

“Reno it’s Marie.”

Silence.

She prayed it wasn’t confused silence. She prayed he knew who she was. She prayed that he was someone who would help her.

There was shuffling on the other line, followed by a slamming door. “Where the fuck have you been.”

The demand came out as a hiss, but the tone of concern did not go unnoticed by her.

“I don’t know; I—“

“All I get is this freaky voicemail, you go missing, and a week later the fucking world starts to end! What the—“

Her eyes widened as muffled groans and growls of frustration came through.

“The President is in a bad way, Marie. He…we could really use you, and you—you were just gone. No one just vanishes like that unless we make it happen. You know that.”

She didn’t know that, and she didn’t understand the cause for concern but she did know about the voicemail. She’d relived it almost every night since she’d stopped her suppressants. Wherever she’d been—Midgar, she assumed—she’d been running from someone. She’d called him for help.

He hadn’t answered.

By the time his voicemail beeped, she’d been snatched and all she could do was scream.

In this moment, she knew it was Colin Devereaux himself that had taken her.

Taking a breath, she leaned forward. “…why…would Winston ShinRa have any use for me?”

She was terrified of the answer. The President’s reputation was a filthy one riddled with cheap affairs and illegitimate offspring. If she’d had any part in that…

“Winst—what the—No! Rufus, blondie! How can you not even—what happened to you?”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her hand coming up to cradle her forehead, “I…I’ve been forced to take memory suppressants. I only just stopped taking them and I can’t…I’m sorry but I just can’t remember anything about myself.”

More silence, and she thought for a moment how almost comical it was. Reno was never silent. It pleased her that she knew this.

“Well that’s great,” he sighed, “scrambled eggs for brains. Well seriously, you should get here. Brick wall memory or not, you might be able to do somethin’ to lift his spirits.”

Her?

“…why me?”

This silence was different, as if it were a subject he wasn’t used to, or perhaps was uncomfortable broaching.

“…because you’re in love with him.”

Marie stared ahead at the wall of her cabin, any words she might have had to object swallowed by the fact itself. Who was she?

Luckily for her, Reno wasn’t in the mood for dwelling on sentiment, if he ever was, and charged ahead, a familiar teasing tone directed at her.

“Yeah, you don’t remember? You were always up his ass like some kind of pet or something.”

He cursed. It was low and under his breath, like he couldn’t believe the situation they were in, like he didn’t need more on his plate, but it was followed by a low groan.

“Tell me when you’re scheduled to dock. Rude will pick you up.”

When she’d given him the information she needed, the call ended and she took a breath, the phone trembling in her hands. She realized she didn’t know—or remember—what sort of person Rufus ShinRa was. Was she jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire? Reno might have known she loved him (maybe everyone knew), but he hadn’t said anything about the president’s feelings for her. What if, especially in the bad way he was in, she was met with resentment or rage?

She had, after all, disappeared.

At the port, this ‘Edge’, Marie recognized nothing. Where had her city gone? Panic rose up in her chest and as her eyes searched for anything familiar, she felt her body freezing her where she stood, grumpy passengers pushing by her as she stood in the way, so out of place in her glamorous, tailored clothing and sophisticated hairstyle.

A hand on her shoulder took her attention away from the sight before her and she looked up, met by an unsmiling face and sunglasses. Unsmiling, but not unkind. She knew this man—or had, at some point.

“Rude?”

His hand slipped from her and he beckoned her forward with the smallest of nods. Dutifully she followed, sliding into the car, clutching her handbag. After a few miles of silence, she looked over and smiled.

“I’m sorry I don’t have much to say…I’ve…had a confusing year and I don’t remember you enough.”

“…”

His lack of response didn’t seen to be from displeasure or annoyance, so she smiled again and tried to relax enough to sit back.

“…it’s fine.”

She believed him.

Marie didn’t keep track of the time they spent driving and she didn’t try to initiate any more conversation. Maybe she could have asked questions to prepare her for what he was taking her to, but she found herself tired of being told about what her life had or hadn’t been. She’d have to see for herself.

He lead her into the lodge and though first her eyes settled on Reno lounging on a sofa, the moment she caught sight of Rufus, confined to a wheelchair, the tightness that had been building in her chest burst.

She knew his face. She knew it.

The room tilted, memories assaulting her. Small, brief flashes of moments. A swirling pool of mako, a slaughtered lamb, a pink fluffy pen, the smell of a cappuccino, a knife at her face.

His hands on her.

She shook, standing there, her life seeping in through the cracks and she felt something stronger than anything she’d felt before.

Despair.

“I…”

There was so much she could have said, that she wanted to say, working her way through the confusion of sorting out everything before her, but there was only one place to start and in only a few steps, she was before him, falling to her knees, tears she understood and justified brimming in her eyes, but as they fell, no makeup smudged, not anymore.

“I’ve failed you, sir.”

#so um I started answering this ask June 6 2019 #it was really hard to write ;_;#enjoy this CF #ivory-paragon #readmore for absolutely ungodly length.#which I'm pretty sure tumblr hecked up so I'm sorry if it jumps to a random spot when you click it #-shakes fist-

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