#have we not all in our time robbed valuables from dead people's bodies? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ianthe-is-a-bitch-and-i-love-her · 3 years

Text

Flesh, Part 1

Excerpt from Memoirs of a Flesh Eater, never published

Previous Excerpt

Next Excerpt

And now we come to what you’ve all been waiting for, the meat of this book {Editing Note: Boooo}. The gory details, such as they are, of how we acquire our flesh. It’s a topic that’s captured the public imagination for a long time - we’ve all heard plenty of lurid stories and speculation all our lives. I frankly wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve skipped straight to this chapter to finally hear it straight from the monster’s mouth. I’ll do my best to satisfy your curiosity. Understand, though - this topic is deadly serious, and more than almost any other subject I’ve covered, I’m aware of the danger inherent in revealing this. If the information I lay out here compromises these avenues of flesh, people will die for it. I will tell you as much as I can without risking that outcome.

{Editing Note: Everything after this needs strict review, and not just from me. Get as many eyes as possible on this before publishing.}

Nearly every ghoul has or will participate in the direct acquisition of flesh at some point. Finding food is an involved process, and not a particularly scaleable one. There are no factory farms for humans, nor should there be. Truly steady supplies of flesh are rare. Most of our methods involve gathering a small group of ghouls periodically, rather than just one or two of us working continuously. This, unfortunately, causes inconsistencies in supply more often than is comfortable. As such, we’ve had ample opportunity to figure out exactly how much flesh we need to survive.

For the average mature ghoul, 5 pounds of flesh per day is the ideal consumption rate. Very roughly, we should be eating one adult human body per month for peak health. Put that starkly, it’s a grim picture. Extrapolate from that, and that means each of us is eating 12 humans a year. Obviously, we don’t eat that much from the moment of birth. I remember starting to get hungry more often around age 15, and I can count on one hand the number of ghouls I’ve met over 50, so let’s call the 35 years between those two ages our lifespan. Over the course of our lives, we will each eat over 400 humans. When you look at it from that angle, one life against 400, it’s no wonder that you have, as a whole, decided that we need to die.

But that angle misses some important subtleties. For one, we can handle some remarkably flexible feeding patterns. We can subsist on much less than an ideal diet for a very long time without serious ill effects. For example, I follow a fairly common feeding pattern and only eat half-meals three weeks out of every four. The only ill effects I notice are increased exhaustion and soreness, usually beginning towards the end of the second week and gradually escalating until the fourth. We can also go for multiple days without eating before noticing any ill effects. Many ghouls have only one or two very large meals each week. I personally prefer to have smaller meals more consistently - it makes me feel more human - but it’s a pattern I’ve followed plenty of times when flesh is scarce.

The other main subtlety that the math I presented above misses is that, often, we do not have to kill for flesh. People die all the time from causes that have nothing to do with us, and rarely in ways that make their flesh inedible. We have hardy constitutions and strong stomachs - most diseases and toxic chemicals can be processed and rendered inert in our digestive tracts. There are nearly three million deaths every year in the U.S. alone, the vast majority of which have nothing to do with us. If we could utilize all of that flesh, we could comfortably feed 250,000 ghouls without harming a single person. Obviously that’s never going to happen, but I also doubt there are that many ghouls in the country, so… Suffice to say that there is, theoretically, more than enough ethically-sourced flesh to go around.

Utilizing that flesh, however, is a significant logistical challenge. People aren’t in the habit of donating their bodies for our dining pleasure, and people tend to take the security of their loved ones’ remains pretty seriously. Taking flesh by force, even when we’re not trying to part it from a living body, is difficult, dangerous, messy work, so we prefer to sidestep that wherever possible. This brings us nicely to the first of our three main strategies: farming.

Farming is, unfortunately, our least productive method, but it’s the one that I hope we’ll be able to rely on entirely, some nebulous day in the future. Farming is the practice of discreetly smuggling dead flesh, produced by natural causes, out of the facilities where it is held. This is the only method we use that is sustainable, in the sense that it requires one or two ghouls working constantly and delivering a steady supply, rather than the periodic group efforts I described earlier. This method is also unusual in that it depends on us being integrated in human society, integrated enough to have unsupervised access to dead flesh.

There are two primary sources that we farm. First, there are hospitals. Countless surgical procedures result in the separation of flesh from living humans. Sometimes this flesh is passed along for scientific analysis, but most of it ends up classified as medical waste sooner rather than later. As I’ve said, though, we can safely handle most of the factors that cause limbs to be amputated or organs to be removed. Once these have been marked for disposal, ghouls working at the hospital can usually hide away the flesh for later retrieval without anyone noticing its absence. Unfortunately, caution requires our farmers to take less than is truly salvageable, given how damning it is to be caught stealing flesh. They also avoid taking whole cadavers, which are much more closely observed while in the hospital, and are typically handed over to other people rather than fully disposed of. We also, as a general rule, are careful to avoid eating anything cancerous. Tumors are something of a taboo, only to be eaten in times of extreme famine. We are as vulnerable to cancer as humans are, and there is a strong fear that eating tumors may cause you to absorb some of the cancerous cells into your own body, where they will be free to grow again. I can’t speak to the truth of that, but it’s not a fate I’m interested in tempting.

Our other main farming source is funeral homes. Contrary to popular perception, and to government defence policies, we actually have very little interest in robbing graveyards. By the time bodies go in the ground, they’ve usually been rendered inedible by embalming practices. Given how robust our digestive tracts are, it’s my theory that embalming practices were, at some point in history, specifically designed to protect human bodies from us. Obviously not all bodies are properly embalmed, but there’s no way to tell that without digging one up, and digging up a grave is hard. It is far more beneficial for us to intercept the bodies before they get to that stage. Therefore, we find it very valuable to train as morticians. This allows us to take cuts of flesh before a body is embalmed. Over the years, we’ve figured out exactly how much flesh can be taken and from where without showing at an open casket funeral. For closed caskets, or for cremations, we can take nearly the entire body without detection.

{Editing Note: That’s going to be upsetting for anyone who’s ever buried a family member. I’m not sure how to address that gently. I don’t know how receptive most people would be to “it’s okay that we ate your grandma because it means we got to live long enough to eat other people’s grandmas”.}

Unfortunately, there are a limited number of jobs with access to farmable bodies, and as the number of ghouls in those positions increase, so does the chance of one of them being discovered. Some of you, I’m sure, have seen how paranoid everyone gets when one of us is outed among you. We can’t even come close to fully utilizing these outlets without risking a lot of us dying. My household is fortunate - three of our members are farmers, and we may be gaining a fourth, depending on what degree Scarlet actually settles on. But that supply of farmed flesh is not always enough to feed all of us, and it certainly isn’t enough for Yaga’s charity projects. So about once a month, we send out a group to engage in our second method - gathering.

As I said, there are a lot of deaths that have nothing to do with us. Gathering is our attempt to get ahold of some of those dead before other factors take care of them. Death is, unfortunately, unpredictable, so the best we can do is send people out at irregular intervals to scoop up what we can. A gathering party typically consists of at least half a dozen ghouls; the exact size depends on the amount of ground we want to cover, how many bodies we expect to be transporting, and how worried we are about getting into a violent confrontation. Ideally, no one gets hurt by our gathering parties, but no one is going to look too kindly on body snatching, and sometimes we just attract the wrong kind of attention. If we need an especially large group, or if we intend to cover a particularly large area, we might even reach out to other households for extra help in exchange for a share of our find.

A gathering run typically begins at night, in the poorer parts of the city. I’m sure gathering happens in rural areas, but I can’t speak to their methods. In the city, though, it’s the poor and the homeless and the addicts, the abandoned of human society that are most likely to die somewhere we can get to them. So we put on anonymizing clothing and start looking. Our most reliable leads come from homeless communities and drug sites. Sometimes it’s enough to just show up, make small talk, and look around for the dead or imminently dying. If it’s the latter, sometimes we just wait - keep them company while they wait for the end. Unfortunately for us, people don’t generally die all at once at predictable intervals; it’s not uncommon for us to find no bodies at all. Fortunately, there are some people who are desperate enough to sell us leads. Buying leads is a dangerous game - any person who knows us to be ghouls, even if we take pains to conceal our identities from them, is one more person who could bring the exterminators down on us - and the more effective the method of gathering leads is, the more dangerous it is. The safest thing is to find a stranger and offer them money for a lead, one time deal, and never contact them again. Regular contacts have more opportunities to expose us, whether for exterminator money, moral duty, or just by being careless, but if they know to expect us, they can amass leads, or sometimes even hold bodies for us to buy off them directly. I’ve heard that some households even have arrangements with organized crime to act as free, efficient body disposal.

Once we’ve thoroughly checked these areas, the next step is to check accident sites. Typically we’ll separate to stake out common suicide and accident sites. These aren’t particularly reliable either, but they turn up bodies often enough to be worth staking out once we’ve exhausted our more proactive options. Sometimes, on particularly slow gathering parties, we’ll break out a police scanner and listen for any incident reports likely to produce a body and see if we can get there before the cops. It’s a dangerous game, and often no more lucrative than our other approaches, but there is nothing more depressing or upsetting than coming back from gathering empty handed. Coming home empty handed means we need to take more drastic measures.

I’ve been on around a dozen gathering parties so far. Most of them went well enough, with minimal incident and moderate success. I’ve been on two where we had to chase police scanners. And I’ve been on one that came back empty-handed. That isn’t the only one my household has ever run that came back empty-handed, but it’s the one that stuck out most in my mind because it’s the one time I felt personally responsible for what happened next. When our regular gathering still doesn’t produce enough flesh, we have three options, none of them pleasant. We could all tighten our belts, ration our flesh carefully, and try to endure until we can make up our shortfall. There are a lot of factors that can make this approach unsafe, though. Starving isn’t any more pleasant for us than it is for humans, and it can make us less careful than is safe. Or sometimes someone is injured or sick and wouldn’t be able to handle stricter rationing. Our next option is to organize a gathering raid. There are plenty of hospitals and funeral homes that we can’t farm, for one reason or another, but sometimes we can steal from them. This is a high-risk endeavor, obviously. Anywhere that handles human remains is on the lookout for this kind of thing, and even if we get away clean, the raid will almost certainly make the news and bring exterminators sniffing around. That’s not even touching the fact that, just because we aren’t farming somewhere, that doesn’t mean someone else isn’t. The kind of scrutiny a raid draws can be a death sentence for any ghouls working at the raid target. So, most of the time, Yaga chooses to take our third option. She calls for a Hunt.

{Editing Note: I need to talk to Spatha before I write the rest of this. I need to convince her that I’ll just listen this time, and then I need to actually do that. I don’t know if I can do it. I don’t want to reopen this wound between us. I don’t want to risk our friendship. Is this project really worth that? Do I seriously think it will make a difference?}

#my writing #memoirs of a flesh eater #original fiction #not tlt

28 notes · View notes

shimmershae · 3 years

Text

My thoughts on Episode 5--Out of the Ashes.

Okay, though. I’m already excited about this one because Carol and Lydia are on the little guide picture thingy, lol. My girls.

As usual, I’m going to put the rest underneath a cut to save you lovelies potentially being spoiled should you not want to be.

Wow. Look at that full moon. And the colors in the woods.

I’m telling you. These cold opening scenes have been generally pretty awesome this season.

Aaron with Gracie always gives us such sweetness but this time maybe not.

Omigosh. Now *that* is a nightmare--the Walkers, the Wolves, the Saviors, the Whisperers, Mays. Did I miss anybody? And then Gracie gone just like that? Poor Aaron. All he wants is to keep his little girl safe and happy.

So. Is Gracie sleeping right next to her daddy because she had a nightmare or because her daddy’s been having them? Because either way, oh my freaking heart. Especially at her still sleeping with her stuffed bunny. I’m really, really hoping that bunny isn’t a bad omen of sorts for our Gracie, because little girls with bunnies haven’t fared all that well--going all the way back to the first episode and as recently as the subway episode where Daryl found that picture of the two siblings after they’d already found the bunny from the picture amongst the bodies. Please not Gracie. Aaron has already been through so much.

Are they all just communing together now? Because I can see how that would harken back to Season 4.

Jerry! Not even 3 minutes in and already two of my faves are present. I can tell this is going to be a good episode.

That really sucks. Not even being able to take a peaceful piss because you can see Walkers shambling past your window, lol.

There goes my queen running straight at danger as real queens are apt to do. ;)

Were there always lights coming on in the windmill during the opening credits or is that a new thing for this episode?

That orientation video was so surreal. Had to laugh at the political touch of having “this message is approved by Pamela Milton” at the end.

Okay. So they’re getting their work assignments, huh? Orientations are the worst, lol. All that damn paperwork.

Retail clerk--Princess being excited at the prospect of working in a mall, even having a mall again, has me LMAO even as I’m like girl. No. You’ll love it ‘til you hate it.

I didn’t catch Eugene’s job. But Ezekiel doing animal control kind of cracks me up. For reasons.

So. Essentially Eugene and Princess and Ezekiel got blue collar jobs while Yumiko’s got an invitation to join the upper crust.

I love Lydia being accepted as part of the community. About damn time.

For a second I thought Rosita said what’s left of the horses plural and I was fixin’ to go OH NO.

This is where I’m at on the Maggie/Negan issue, for better or worse: Maggie absolutely, IMHO, has earned the right to stay mad at Negan for the rest of her days. Because Glenn. Because her little boy was robbed of his daddy. That said? I don’t think I have it in me to watch 5 more episodes of this beaten horse antagonistic conversation much less a whole season. It would be one thing if it hadn’t already stolen valuable and earned screen time from other characters that seem to have been pushed to the periphery to spotlight it like it was the marquee event or something. I don’t want want 2/3′s of the final season so heavily focused on the conflict between these two when there are so many characters that are already woefully underutilized. It’s only compelling if it doesn’t become commonplace.

It’s a sad business having to put down people you know, I’d expect. Funny, though. We never knew them so the impact is kind of artificial. I appreciate the intent of the scene, though.

Where the hell are all the Walkers coming from? Like, I thought most of them went skydiving off that cliff without parachutes.

Judith training the other babies. If only her parents--every damn one of them--could see her now.

Gus! How cool and awesome for him!

ASZ is just full of asshole teens isn’t it? How dare that little dipshit push our Asskicker down like that and say such hateful things? To be fair, though, the kid is probably just repeating what he’s heard from others and I’m glad they’re being realistic here even if I don’t like seeing Judith cry.

Cailey Fleming’s expressive face and eyes! This kid has my heart, ya’ll.

That perfectly pretty cake wasted! LMAO. Seriously though. How does a cardiothoracic surgeon end up assigned to work in the bakery? Yumiko’s reunion with her brother Tomi honestly was on par with what I’d expect from someone seeing the sister they’d long given up as dead.

Freaky still how the Whisperers choose to herd the dead even without Beta and Alpha.

Was that the real Stephanie in the scene with the ice cream? Right under Eugene’s nose while he’s with Fake Stephanie? They have a connection, ya’ll. Eugene felt it.

Okay, though. I wanted the kids having their first ice cream cones. If I were Eugene, though, I probably would have inhaled that thing after being deprived for so long.

The Milton Hotel? Alrighty then. Somebody feels self-important.

Aww. Eugene’s thinking of Rosita and Coco. They really have evolved into such a sweet, good friendship and I miss them together.

Literally, I love Princess more each time I see her and hear her open her hilarious mouth. LOL at her with the ice cream cone.

Is everybody in ASZ staying in the same damn house? Whoever broke the board with Carl’s and Judith’s handprints on it needs an ass kicking.

“Me, too.” Welp. Guess RJ’s already met his line quota per appearance 24 minutes in, LOL.

Aww. My heart. A Rosita/Judith scene. I’m already loving it but not gonna lie. Who do we have topay to get a Carol/Judith scene because she’s been there since Judith was an embryo?

“Now it’s broken. He’s gone. Everybody is.” The way this scene is unexpectedly gutting me right now. Because Rosita’s right. It never really gets easier. It’s just something you figure out how to carry. How many people devastated by Covid or other illness or tragedy are carrying these same feelings of loss and hurt everyday?

Give us more of those heartfelt moments, dammit. This girl at least craves them. Not the endless Maggie/Negan conflict.

Ouch. “I think I haven’t met a Whisperer who wasn’t a liar.” Damn Aaron. Lydia’s right there beside you.

Angry Jerry hurts my heart in ways I cannot explain.

On a completely shallow note, Miko’s brother is attractive too. I quite like his accent, lol. I wonder why he’s so hesitant to put his skills as a surgeon to use.

“Want some cake?”/”Hell, yes.” Yumiko=me 99% of the time. LOL. Just kidding. In reality, I have to say no.

“They clearly got a gym in this joint. Your chiseling is perfecto.” LMAO. I’m all for Princess/Mercer. She flusters him a little and I’m loving it. When she told him he had beautiful eyelashes, I howled.

Oh my sweet Aaron. I’m in the same kind of pain and disbelief as Lydia watching you interrogate that Whisperer.

Thank you, Carol. Melissa McBride? I effing LOVE you. My heart hurts.

I’m sure she’s gonna get hate from the usual crowd while they cheer Aaron further along his dark and desperate path. Yes. Ya’ll are *that* predictable.

But Maggie, though? How long you gonna wait? Because you gonna be waiting on Daryl’s ass a long time.

“Cheesy video guy.” LOL. Leave it to Princess. Somehow that Lance dude looks even cheesier in RL.

By the screaming cave? What the hell is the screaming cave?

Ohh. Next episode actually looks interesting. Thank goodness it’s not a bottle episode strictly focusing on Virgil/Connie though because no matter how much I like Connie/Lauren? I don’t think whatever story she’s stuck in with Virgil is enough to keep me riveted to the tv.

Overall impression of this episode--again, I enjoyed it. Aaron’s dream was dark AF. Hell. Aaron was dark AF in this episode. Ross Marquand did some really strong work and I’m glad he finally got a moment to shine even though I hate seeing him leaning into the darkness instead of his inherent goodness. Judith and Rosita’s scenes were touching. Carol/Melissa made me bawl in the span of two minutes. That’s why she’s the MVP of this show, lovelies. She does so very much with so little. I’m just glad we didn’t have to see Leah and her band of bitchass brothers this episode.

I’m going to miss this show when it’s gone. At least I’ll have the Carol and Daryl spinoff off to ease my heartache.

#The Walking Dead #Season 11 #TWD spoilers #things that make me smile and cry #for reasons

22 notes · View notes

straight-outta-orzammar · 2 years

Text

Insufficient Skill: Chapter One

Hi guys! I know I’m usually not one to post my own work here (art or otherwise) but I recently got back into writing fanfic, and I wanted to try posting it here! This is one I started in like 2016??? It's a male/casteless/dwarf Warden x Zevran fic >///< obviously taking place during the plot of Origins. It has both canon and original dialogue and follows the canon plot pretty closely. I do throw in original sequences (because of course we have to satisfy our headcanons hehe) but I love how the canon romance progresses, so I didn't want to cut any of it out. The original chapter one was pretty rough, so I took another shot at it and here it is! I already have chapters 1.0-3 written and posted on AO3 if you guys like it and are interested! I'll leave the link here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6516760/chapters/14911222

Without further ado, here's chapter one of Insufficient Skill!

The weighty greatsword cut the air with a woosh as it was hefted up and over the dwarf’s shoulder. He heaved a sigh as he felt blood drip off the blade and into his braids, not that it mattered, his whole body was spattered with it. He and his party had just been led into an ambush-style assassination attempt complete with decoy “robbed” peasants, ransacked carts, and skinned cattle. A slightly more frustrated sigh made its way out. What a cliche trap to fall for. Luckily enough they had made it out relatively unharmed though the same couldn’t be said for their attackers. He pursed his lips at this and cast a tired and somewhat irritable gaze over the bloody scene around him. There had been far too many people involved in this attack for just two lousy Grey Wardens, it was overkill. Whoever ordered this hit must be desperate…or afraid.

His eyes came to rest on what seemed to be the ringleader, an elven man with richly tanned skin and blonde hair braided much like his own. Fresh blood oozed from a blow to his head and trickled down the tattoos framing his left cheekbone before following the line of his jaw and dripping off his chin. The dwarf watched the bright red droplets disappear into the dirt before turning his gaze to the rest of the unconscious elf. The ex-Chantry sister, Leliana, had taken the time to bind his hands and feet, a smart move on her part. She was already proving to be a valuable asset and a more colorful character than the Warden had given her credit for. Luckily the bound elf didn’t seem wounded, at least not badly, which meant he could potentially be good for information if Alistair didn’t knock his brain loose in the fight. As his thoughts wandered his eyes trailed back up to the assassin’s face. He didn’t mean to stare; the elven man’s features were just so…captivating. Even if he did just try to murder his entire party. He shook his head and nudged the unconscious form with his boot. The assassin stirred, his hand going to his face as he regained his senses.

"Nhnnn...oh, what? I...oh. Oh, I rather thought I would wake up dead, or not wake up at all, as the case may be. But I see you haven't killed me yet." he said, slowly in an accent wholly unfamiliar to the Orzammar native. -"I have some questions for you." the dwarf warden cut into the end of his sentence.

"Ah, I am to be interrogated. Let me save you some time. My name is Zevran, Zev to my friends. I am a member of the Antivan Crows, brought here for the sole purpose of slaying any surviving Grey Wardens." the assassin paused "Which I have failed at, sadly." he added, nodding in the direction of the blonde dwarf and his companions standing over him and wincing, no doubt as his head throbbed from his injury.

“Who hired you to kill us?” the dwarf asked, crossing his arms. Suspicion colored his thoughts, but he held his tongue, not that he had any reason to believe he would be wrong. He felt Alistair shift his weight forward.

"A rather taciturn fellow in the capital. Loghain I think his name was. Yes, that's it." Zevran said thoughtfully.

"Does that mean you're loyal to Loghain?" the shorter of the two Wardens tossed a glance back at his partner.

"I have no idea what his issues are with you. The usual, I imagine. You threaten his power, yes? Beyond that, no, I'm not loyal to him. I was contracted to perform a service." elf said casually.

"Why are you telling me all this?" the Warden asked, an edge of suspicion creeping into his voice. -"Why not? I wasn't paid for silence. Not that I offered it for sale, precisely." the assassin answered, amusement playing in his voice.

The dwarf raised an eyebrow. "There's no reason for me to believe anything you say."

"Oh, very true. Thus there's no reason for me not to tell you everything, is there?" he said slyly, pausing briefly "As it is, if you're done with the interrogation, I've a proposal for you. If you're of a mind."

"I'm listening. Make it quick." the Warden said, ignoring the noise of protest that came from Alistair's direction.

"Well here's the thing. I failed to kill you, so my life is forfeit. That's how it works. If you don't kill me, the Crows will. Thing is, I like living. And you obviously are the sort to give the Crows pause. So let me serve you, instead." what he now recognized to be a Crow proposed.

"And what's to stop you from finishing the job later?" the dwarf pressed.

"To be completely honest, I was never given much of a choice regarding joining the Crows. They bought me on the slave market when I was a child. I think I've repaid my worth back to them, plus tenfold. The only way out, however, is to sign up with someone they can't touch. Even if I did kill you now, they might kill me just on principle for failing the first time. Honestly, I'd rather take my chances with you." the elf admitted.

The Warden stared down at the bound Crow, blood still gently tracing his cheek, the drops making their way off his chin and disappearing into the soil below. The Crow stared back out of amber eyes, his gaze somewhat amused and unafraid, maybe with a hint of embarrassment. He mulled over his options. The elf seemed truthful enough, and it certainly wouldn't be the first time he had taken in an individual of questionable merit. He himself was certainly an individual of questionable merit. A Carta boy from dust town, one of Beraht’s rats. He sighed; Alistair wouldn’t like this one bit. He nodded slowly.

"Very well. I accept your offer." he said and uncrossed his arms.

"What?! You're taking the assassin with us now? Does that really seem like a good idea?" Alastair exclaimed, exasperated.

"If you want to kill him, Alastair, then you do it." the dwarf said without looking up as he took out a knife to cut the bindings.

"I...well, no, I suppose we could use whatever help we can get." Alistair grumbled "Still. If there was a sign we were desperate, I think it just knocked on the door and said hello."

The Warden kneeled down and took the Crow’s bindings in his rough hands, slipping his dagger between the rope and the man’s skin. He was careful not to cause any undue injuries to his new companion as he sliced the ropes off of his wrists. When he looked up, he was surprised to find himself eye to eye with the elf. Up close the blood on his cheek was a bright crimson over the deep brown of his tattoos. The dwarf felt his face growing warm and he quickly moved to the bindings on the Crow’s ankles.

“A fine plan." Morrigan added "But I would examine your food and drink far more closely from now on, we're I you."

"That's excellent advice for anyone." Zevran said, seemingly unfazed by the interaction.

The Warden, avoiding eye contact, put out a hand for the assassin. He looked at it for a moment before taking it and allowing himself to be hauled to his feet.

"I hereby pledge my oath of loyalty to you, until such a time as you choose to release me from it. I am your man, without reservation...this I swear." said the now former Crow, bowing respectfully at the end.

"I-erm, yes. We should see what we can salvage from this mess before we move on." the Warden said curtly and moved off to one of the bodies lying nearby.

Zevran watched as the party dispersed amongst the carnage (Alistair moving over to have “hushed” words with his fellow Warden) and slowly moved to follow. He looked down to find a large Mubari hound watching him intently and growling, fur bristling slightly. The elf allowed himself a slight smile and began searching a body. This would be interesting.

#dragon age #dragon age origins #dragon age: origins #dragon age fanfiction #dao #da origins #da fanfic #brosca #zevran x warden #warden brosca #zevran arainai #zevran #hero of ferelden #zevran dragon age #zevran x brosca #dwarf warden

5 notes · View notes

anubislover · 3 years

Text

Welcome to the Heart Pirates, Nami-ya chapter 19: Lying Hearts

“How can anyone stand to live in a city like this?” Nami grumbled as the light glinted off of yet another painfully white building. True, the setting sun had lessened the glare slightly, but after an entire afternoon of it, she was developing quite the headache, even with the sunglasses.

Law shrugged and continued walking at a leisurely pace, still unaffected. “I’m sure if you’re born somewhere like this it’s easier, but people can learn to tolerate almost anything given enough time, I suppose.”

“Do you think you’d be able to learn to tolerate bread?”

“I said almost. I’d sooner die of starvation.”

She shook her head with a chuckle but kept pace, following his lead. Instead of heading straight back to the submarine, Law had insisted on a few detours through Atifakuto—partially in case anyone had grown suspicious and decided to follow them, but also to scope out potential escape routes under the guise of sightseeing. Nami, for her part, had been exceedingly helpful in this, mapping out in her head which stairways lead where and pointing out various places to hide. If Law found her compliance suspicious, he didn’t say anything; it was in their best interest to work together, especially with some potentially valuable goods on the line, so her behavior was easily rationalized.

For her, however, there was more than artifacts or even belli at stake. This heist had to go well. She needed Law to trust her enough to open up about why he was so obsessed with Amber Lead. Perhaps if he could do that, she wouldn’t even have to sneak into his quarters to take a look at the ledgers. She could just ask and he’d let her in like a rational human being.

Of course, in order for either of their plans to succeed they needed to know where the vase was. Luckily, the rest of the Hearts hadn’t been sitting idle on the submarine. They’d been investigating every possible gallery, art collector, museum, and auction house their prize could possibly be at. The second they had a lead, they’d call on the mini Den Den Mushi.

Until then, though, Law and Nami were forced to meander about the city, planning and killing time.

“So, while we wait for some intel, what else are you going to buy me?” she asked as they wandered the fourth level. They’d passed quite a few shops, and while most had stocked dull business suits similar to the last store, Nami felt her bags were tragically light. They were in a beautiful-if-blinding city, and she was walking away with only one outfit? What a travesty.

Snorting dismissively, Law glanced down at her with a clear look of are you kidding me? on his face. “Nothing. I told you I was only getting you one outfit. I’m your captain, not your sugar daddy.”

“You know, for a man who wants this little job to go well, you’re not putting in nearly the effort you should,” she quipped, a sly smile on her lips, eyelashes fluttering prettily. “I’m supposed to look professional and put together if I’m gonna pull off being your lovely assistant. That means I need matching shoes and accessories. Maybe a cute leather purse or briefcase to really sell it.”

“If you want those so badly then buy them yourself. Or,” he smirked, halting his pace to turn around and catch her chin between his fingers, tilting her head up towards him as he stepped in close enough so she could feel his body heat, “you earn them by doing certain favors for daddy.”

Her cheeks only pinkened a little at his innuendos while she stuck out her tongue and shoved him away. Last night’s dream wasn’t quite as close to the forefront of her mind anymore, but that didn’t mean his smirk didn’t do things to her she’d rather ignore. “Pass. You should know by now that it takes more than clothes for me to play nice.”

“Mmm, I do. That’s what makes it so much fun,” he purred, gold eyes glinting in wicked amusement. One gloved hand was shoved into his pocket while his free arm slung itself casually over her shoulder as he continued stalking along the fastidiously clean road. “But since you’re currently insisting on being a strong, independent woman who doesn’t need a man to provide for her, you can instead borrow some shoes from Ikkaku, and she might still have a pair of glasses or something from the time she pretended to be a receptionist at a Naval base.”

Brown eyes widened at his statement. Not because he was suggesting that she borrow clothes or anything, but the bombshell he’d just casually dropped in light of her recent discovery.

“Was this for one of your plans?” she asked, shoulders stiffening.

He shrugged like it was no big deal, though he did give her a curious glance at the way she tensed beneath him. “Yeah. We needed someone on the inside, and they’d put out an advertisement for an attractive female in her early twenties. It’s not like Uni or Penguin could do it.”

“But…holy shit, Law, are you serious?” she hissed, dragging him over to an unoccupied part of the street behind a solitary gated tree so she could scold him in private. There weren’t too many people about, but the last thing they need was to get unwanted attention because they’d caused a scene, even if Law totally deserved to get chewed out at the top of her lungs for being such an asshole. “Ikkaku has Marine brothers who want her dead and you sent her into the lion’s den? What the fuck?!”

Caught off-guard by her anger, Law’s eyebrows shot up briefly before furrowing. “She told you about them?”

Damn. In her shock and anger on her friend’s behalf, she’d forgotten that this was a subject she wasn’t technically supposed to know. But instead of admitting guilt, she doubled down and threw on her best poker face.

“Yeah. She told me,” she lied easily. Too easily. It came as naturally as it had back in the days she’d been working under Arlong, getting close to pirates by lying through her teeth and then robbing them blind. How many crews and captains had she deceived before Luffy? Nami had honestly lost count, but once she’d joined up with the Straw Hats, lying to a supposed ally hadn’t been quite as instinctual.

But this isn’t Luffy, and Law’s keeping way more secrets than I am, she rationalized. It’s just a little white lie anyway. He’d be way more pissed at Shachi and Penguin for telling me. I’m looking after those guys.

Law’s expression hardened, and for a moment she wondered if he’d seen through her bluff. She didn’t think she’d gotten too rusty in the lying department, but Law was smart and distrusting in general, so she couldn’t quite tell. Trepidation hung heavy in the air as she waited for him to speak, mind going a mile a minute coming up with new lies and explanations to appease him. Worse came to worst, she could throw the guys under the bus, even if she didn’t really want to, but they were his best friends, so Law would doubtlessly be more forgiving towards them, right?

Thankfully, it seemed his anger came from a completely different place, as he snarled quietly through clenched teeth, “Nami-ya, I am, as you have pointed out rather frequently in the past, a control freak. Do you really think I would devise a plan that required sending my top mechanic into a Marine base if there was even a chance she could be recognized? Especially by her utter shit of a brother?”

She flinched at the vitriol in his voice. It seemed she’d touched a nerve, and unless she wanted to lose all the progress she’d worked for, she knew it was best to back down. “Sorry. You’re right.”

“I’ll accept your apology if you tell me what prompted her to tell you,” he stated, crossing his arms. “It’s not information she makes widely known, even to those who are permanent members of my crew.”

Well. At least this was easy enough to justify, and she’d be doing both Law and Ikkaku a favor, right? Sure, the guys would obviously tell him later, but being the first to warn him might earn her a few more crumbs of trust. “There was an article in the paper about Marine reinforcements coming to the Grand Line. Ushi was interviewed. He seemed pretty intent on taking down the Heart Pirates.”

Law froze, his frown deepening into a dark sneer. The tic in his jaw and the way his fists clenched reminded her of his reaction to Ikkaku having been attacked on Grimm. “That fucker will stay away from Ikkaku if he’s got any brains in him.”

“You’re pretty protective of her,” she said. Sure, he’d perhaps phrased his defense in a way that implied his priority was the plan, it was clear from the hiss in his voice that Ikkaku’s safety had been genuinely considered.

The brim of his hat hid his eyes as he stated, “I’m protective of all my crew. She’s just…it’s hard to find submarine engineers, let alone ones as skilled as her. Ikkaku’s hard to replace.”

Well that stinks to high heaven of bullshit, she thought. Sure, the Surgeon of Death had a rightly-earned cruel reputation, but he’d shown time and again his crew meant a lot to him. Stepping in close, she used her finger to lift his hat enough to see his expression unobstructed. “Is that why you let her sass you? Because if she walked you’d be dead in the water?”

The gold orbs glared down at her, though the held no heat. “Everyone on the crew is a vital component. Like gears in a well-oiled machine. You’ve gotta take care of them to make sure they don’t break.”

When Nami merely raised a disbelieving eyebrow, he sighed, body deflating slightly. “Look, Nami-ya, everyone on my crew, we’ve all got shit in our pasts. Some have overcome it. Some still carry the scars. Ikkaku…hers is one of the few that’s actively still trying to get her. So yeah, maybe I’m a bit more protective, but it’s for a damn good reason.”

Ok, now that was a fair point. “I’m surprised you haven’t just killed him.”

“Oh, I want to,” he snarled. “No brother should try to hurt their siblings. They’re supposed to look after them. The only reason Ushi-ya still draws breath is because Ikkaku begged me to spare his pathetic life.”

It suddenly dawned on Nami that, despite his criticizing Luffy for not being more bloodthirsty, Law was…surprisingly merciful in his own ways, too. He didn’t murder Ikkaku’s brother, despite having clear reason to, just because she asked. He rescued Jean Bart from a life of slavery despite not knowing him. And while she didn’t fully understand the Ope Ope no Mi’s powers, she wondered if his cuts didn’t draw blood because he didn’t want them to?

She wasn’t sure if he had a complexity addiction or if he genuinely wanted to minimize bloodshed, but once again another side of the incredibly fascinating man had been revealed.

Taking a deep breath to calm his anger, he gave Nami a sadistic smile. “Doesn’t mean I let him off the hook with a sternly-worded warning, though. Wanna know what I did to him the last time we met?”

Nami turned a bit green as she remembered Jinzo’s still-beating heart in his hands. Complex and caring towards his crew or not, he was still a twisted bastard. “Fuck no!”

Briefly he pouted at not getting to regale her with the gory details before shrugging. “Pity. It was quite the eventful evening. In fact, it was also the night of mine and Drake-ya’s first kiss.”

“How the hell are those two things connected?!”

“Well, I had to distract him somehow. He was guarding my poor mechanic like a dragon would a virtuous princess.”

Before she could demand more details, or even snort at the idea of Ikkaku being virtuous, the sound of the mini Den Den Mushi reached their ears, interrupting the conversation.

Looking around to make sure there weren’t any eavesdroppers, Law pulled out the little snail phone and clicked down on the top. “Guessing you’ve got something for me?”

“I do,” the snail answered, and Nami recognized the faint accent that indicated they were speaking to Cousteau. “Only one place that specializes in North Blue history. Jubilee & Atlas Antiques. It’s an auction house and gallery on the fifth level, a block away from the Elevate Deliverer Restoration Church.”

“Well that’s a needlessly long name,” he quipped, rolling his eyes. Mentally, Nami had to agree, though it also sounded vaguely familiar. “At least that makes it easier to find. Anything else I should know? Other landmarks, nearby guard stations, that sort of thing?”

There was a moment of hesitation before Cousteau replied, “No station, though there would probably be at least a few guards wandering around at night. It’s, uh, right by a fountain. Blessings from the White City.”

Nami’s eyes widened a little. Oh. Now she remembered. That had been the church with the huge stained-glass windows. The one in her book, by the tribute to Flevance.

“…I see.”

The little snail chewed its lip, clearly concerned. “Captain, if you want, I can do all the surveillance—”

“It’s fine,” he cut in, tone sharp before smoothing out, “I saw it earlier. In fact, I’m glad it’s so close. Nami-ya and I will check out the gallery. We’re nearby and I’d rather see it with my own eyes to get the lay of the land. Unless anyone else has a better lead, you and the others can head back to the ship.”

“Understood, sir. Anything else you need?” he asked, sounding relieved.

“Just tell Clione I might have a job for him later on, so don’t make any evening plans.”

“Aye-aye, Captain.”

The call ended, and Nami peered up at Law, expecting signs of the same darkness that had crossed his face when they’d visited the fountain earlier. Instead, his face was totally blank, staring down at the tiny snail, expressionless.

Somehow, that was far, far more unnerving.

“Law?” she asked, touching his arm hesitantly.

As if awoken from a trance he shook his head before smirking down at her. “Well, hope you don’t mind one last detour before heading back to the ship? I know it’s more stairs but look on the bright side; at this rate, the definition of your calf muscles will be a thing of beauty.”

He didn’t wait for her to respond, turning on his heels and heading towards the direction of the stairs to the next level. Frowning, she began to doubt whether or not this was all a good idea. She didn’t know exactly what his deal was, but she really felt like he was too close to this. But she had the feeling trying to talk him out of it would be an exercise in futility, and would set her back far more than any lie she might spin.

Oh well, she sighed internally, jogging to catch up, so long as he doesn’t do anything stupid. He’s sensible enough to keep a cool head, no matter what his problem is. It’ll be fine.

While it wasn’t far, it took longer than either of them would have expected to actually find Jubilee & Atlas Antiques. Mainly because it was a surprisingly nondescript building compared to the opulent churches and museums nearby. Honestly, based on the exterior, one could easily have passed it by. Like everything else the building was pristinely white, the windows boasting small arches over them and flower boxes containing white impatiens. Really, the most impressive thing about it was the marble plaque out front boasting the company’s name in gold leaf.

But the two pirates didn’t really care about the appearance; it was what was inside that counted. That, and the information board out front, which stated in bold, black letters that there would be a showing and auction of North Blue artworks at 8pm that evening.

“Why don’t you just Scan the place, grab the vase, and walk away? Seems like that would be easy compared to putting on this charade?” Nami asked, eyeing the building. It was hardly Harpin’s mansion; it would take almost no effort for Law to use his powers to steal every item of value inside it, replacing artifacts, paintings, and money with pebbles and potted plants with a mere flick of his fingers, then teleporting them away to safety.

Really, if he weren’t such an ass, Trafalgar Law would be a thief’s dream partner.

Of course, he was an ass, so he gave her a look that implied he considered her question to be phenomenally stupid. “Because there’s no guarantee that the vase is even in there—for all I know it’s being kept in a secondary location until the actual event for security or health reasons. It is a relic from a city that suffered a notorious death toll both before and after the World Government had quarantined it,” he explained lowly. “On top of that, my Room would draw too much attention, so if it’s not in there, we’ll have blown our whole cover and probably the operation.”

Though disappointed that they couldn’t just whisk it away with his powers, she conceded that he had a point. Versatile and useful as they were, the Ope Ope no Mi’s abilities did have their drawbacks. Actually infiltrating the auction house was a safer move.

Yet for a moment, she saw Law glare at the building, as if he were equally frustrated that they couldn’t just grab their prize and go. Perhaps even a great mastermind like him sometimes wished to take the direct path. “At least we can be sure it’ll be presented at this auction,” he reassured, almost as much to himself as her as his hand rested on Nami’s lower back while he escorted her away. “Makes it easier to come up with a plan and contingencies when I actually know the target. My crew did good.”

She twirled a strand of hair around her finger in thought. She supposed he was right, and the pride in his voice when he mentioned the Hearts’ contribution…well, she knew better than to argue with that. Seemed the lesson he learned on the last island was sticking. “Still too bad we don’t have blueprints like Harpin’s house, though.”

“It can’t be helped. That was a job I’d been planning for months. This is more…spontaneous. Why? Scared and looking to back out?” he asked, glancing down at her with a challenging grin.

Nami scoffed. She was a thief that specialized in robbing pirates. Sure, she was a scaredy-cat, but when treasure of some kind was at stake, there were few risks she wouldn’t take. “Not a chance. Just pointing out that we’re going in more blind than last time.”

“Maybe, but at least our prize will be out in the open and not in the home of a former Marine with tentacles. Hell, we might even get it legally.”

“Law,” she started, brow furrowing. She wasn’t scared, but she did have a reasonable concern, especially with how intent he seemed on this one item. “What are we going to do if we don’t win the vase?”

The pair stopped by the Flevance fountain, Law taking a long moment to stare solemnly at the beautiful white angels. Without a word he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small coin, pressing it to his lips before flipping it into the water.

When he turned back to her, his gold eyes were as hard as the statues’ and twice as cold.

“Simple; we take it from whoever did.”

XXX

Hidden in a small cove on an unpopulated section of Atifakuto’s coast, the sight of the Polar Tang’s sunny yellow hull was a welcome relief after a whole day of the city’s stark white walls. Law seemed to agree as his tense posture relaxed into a comfortable slouch, even giving a few of the guys a small grin when they called out to them. To Nami, of course, the submarine was still far from the Sunny and thus would never be home, but she couldn’t help but smile at Law’s reaction. The Dark Doctor really did have some softness deep down.

Of course, that didn’t last long, as the moment they were within the safety of the cargo bay he was once more all business. “Dinner is in an hour. Rest up, brush up on your notes, do whatever you need to prepare for the auction tonight; I’ve got a few more dominoes to put in place,” Law stated. He’d been silent for most of the walk back, though Nami attributed that to him mentally filing through all the information they now had and formulating his plan. Much as she missed and loved Luffy, having a captain who didn’t just go rushing in like an idiot was a nice change of pace.

That didn’t mean she appreciated his tone, though. “Say please,” she quipped, hip jutting out. She might have decided to be more compliant for the sake of gaining his trust, but that didn’t mean she was going to let him boss her around.

Besides, if she were too accommodating, he’d probably grow suspicious and then she’d be right back at square one.

He scowled but apparently decided it would be a waste of time to argue. They were on a tight schedule, after all, so her attitude would have to be tolerated. For now. “Please,” he grumbled before marching off, beckoning Clione to follow him. The biologist glanced between the two, bewildered, but smartly said nothing before chasing after his captain.

Flashing a self-satisfied grin at Law’s retreating back, Nami practically skipped to her quarters. Even though they weren’t as prepared as she’d like, so far, things were going well. Perhaps they couldn’t just use Law’s powers to swipe the vase, but by obtaining it through legal means, they wouldn’t have the authorities after them, which would be nice. Besides, it wasn’t her money that would be spent at the auction.

Her research of the North Blue had taught her a few things, including just how valuable things from Flevance were. After all, things made from the white ore had been in high-demand during the city’s heyday; now that it was in ruins, any remaining artifacts would surely triple in price. And, admittedly, if that fountain had been anything to go by, the vase could very well be extremely beautiful. Something any art collector or historian might want for themselves.

Once more, she wondered why the hell Law wanted it. He collected coins, not art, so she doubted it would be something he wanted just for the heck of it. What was his obsession with Flevance—

That train of thought was derailed when Nami walked into her room. She blinked then rubbed her eyes, certain her vision was still messed up from the sun, because Ikkaku was still sitting at her desk, working on some little device, practically in the same position as that morning. Really, the only difference was the lack of towel around her head, though her curly hair was a tangled bird’s nest.

“Have you even moved today?” Nami exclaimed loudly, flabbergasted.

The mechanic jumped a few inches out of her chair, a pen cartwheeling through the air before falling back onto the surface of the desk with a clatter. Apparently since she’d had the room to herself, she hadn’t felt the need to put the earplugs back in, leaving her vulnerable to Nami’s loud voice. “Damn, girl, you scared me,” Ikkaku said with a breathy laugh. She glanced around, noticing the time on the clock and the fact that her hair had dried completely. “Guess I was in the zone.”

“You haven’t been working all day, have you?” Nami asked, plopping her shopping bag on her bed. “At least tell me you had lunch.”

“Sounding an awful lot like Law there,” she teased, pushing away from her desk to stretch. There was an audible pop from her back, and her dark eyes closed in relief. “Like me, too. The boys and I are always bugging a certain workaholic captain to eat something and not subsist solely on coffee and aspirin. But to answer your question, yes, I did have lunch.” She pointed at an empty plate that had been shoved into the far corner of the desk, a few grains of rice stuck to the surface. “Bepo brought me some onigiri.”

“Good. If you didn’t, I’d be dragging you into the galley and force-feeding you a sandwich, then charging you a cooking and inconvenience fee.”

Snorting, Ikkaku cracked her knuckles and rolled her shoulders, further releasing the tension sitting hunched over in one spot for hours had built up. “Dinner’s soon enough; even if I hadn’t eaten, I could have waited. And good luck making a sandwich with no bread on board.” Despite her dismissal tone, though, she gave a wry grin. “But thanks for caring, I guess, even if it does come with a price tag.”

“What are friends for?” Nami shrugged with a smile that was a little forced. It was such an alien feeling, this sudden awkwardness. Since first arriving on the Tang, she and Ikkaku had gotten on like a house on fire. It was almost inevitable, being the two women on the ship surrounded by men dealing with that insanity together. Hell, even if that hadn’t been the case, Ikkaku had practically sacrificed herself for her back at the club on Grimm. A companion like that was more than she’d even dared to dream of before she’d met Luffy.

Was it really right for Nami to act like she didn’t know about her brother? Should she just tell her that the guys told her about Ushi? Really, what was the point of keeping it a secret? It wasn’t that Nami thought she’d slip up and spill the beans—lying was her specialty, after all—but Ikkaku wasn’t some mark or stranger. She was her friend.

Hell, even if they were on opposite crews, she’d even dare to call her nakama.

The issue resolved itself, however, when the other woman’s expression turned a little melancholy. Ikkaku sighed as she rested her cheek on her fist, her other hand idly playing with the pen. “Heh. Funny, I used to ask myself that question a lot when I was younger. I didn’t really have friends back on my home island. I lived with my Gramps in a lighthouse, so besides the occasional trip to town, it was a pretty isolated life.”

“What about your brothers?” Nami asked, masking her interest by taking her purchases out of the bag so they wouldn’t wrinkle before the auction. A swell of relief surged through her. If Ikkaku talked about Ushi herself, the whole charade of pretending not to know about him wouldn’t even be necessary! She just had to carefully press for the right crumbs of information, maybe even offer up a couple tidbits about her own life in exchange. No big deal. Tit for tat, right? “Nojiko was my best friend growing up. Hell, probably my only friend until Luffy came along.”

A dark look crossed Ikkaku’s face. “Yeah, well, Nojiko on her worst day was probably a way better sibling than all of them combined.”

“I don’t think you’ve talked about them much. I basically just know that they exist and said you wouldn’t really make it as an engineer because you’re a girl.”

A long sigh escaped her lips. “That’s…the nice version. Didn’t want to unload my shitty childhood on you, especially since yours sounded worse. I mean, my island was never taken over by pirates, and I didn’t work for the guy who murdered my mom.”

Well, that was certainly true, but then again, people with healthy, normal childhoods seldom became pirates. Or at least, those that did rarely lasted long on such cutthroat seas. Nami should have realized there was more to the mechanic’s past than some run-of-the-mill misogyny. “Maybe, but I don’t mind. We’ve all gone through some rough shit, right? We wouldn’t be in this line of work otherwise.”

“True. I just…I guess I just like to pretend he doesn’t exist most of the time.”

“He?” she asked as if she didn’t already know.

Ikkaku’s calloused hand dropped the pen to instead clench into a tight fist, and there was a haunted look in her dark eyes as she stared off into space. “Ushi. He’s the oldest. I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t afraid of him. Spent our childhood making our other brothers use me as a punching bag. When he wasn’t doing that, he gave me almost hourly reminders that I was a burden on the family, that no one really loved me, that I’d never amount to anything.” There was a hitch in her breath and a pause, and Nami noticed her close her eyes tightly for a moment. As if she were fighting back tears. It was a look she’d never expected to see on the tough, vibrant woman’s face. “Then, when I was seven, he tried to kill me.”

“What?!” Nami exclaimed, dropping her blazer to the floor in shock.

“Yeah. Joras had a huge fucking forest, and he led me into it to look for mushrooms or some shit. Can’t remember. Next thing I know, he’s shoved me into a pit, and by the time I’d climbed out, he was long gone and it was night. I think…I think it was supposed to be my grave, ‘cause it was really fucking deep. Or at least it seemed that way. Maybe I’m misremembering.”

Somehow, Nami doubted that. Sure, memories could get warped with age and fear, but some details remained solid for the rest of a person’s life. “But, you got out, right? And I’m sure your parents must have been worried sick!” She could almost picture it. A young Ikkaku, sticks and leaves caught in her messy curls, knees and elbows scraped, face covered in dirt and tears, frightened but once more able to smile when she was finally found, her mother and father scooping her into their arms, scolding her for worrying them but just so relieved she was safe…

At least, that’s what Bellemere or Mister Genzo would have done if Nami had gone missing.

From the bitter laugh that escaped her throat, Ikkaku hadn’t been so fortunate. “I spent three days wandering around those fucking woods, scared and cold and wondering if I was gonna die out there. My parents didn’t even notice I was gone.” After a long moment of silence, her fist unclenched and some of the tension eased out of her shoulders. “Gramps found me, though. When I didn’t come home after two days and a storm rolled in, my brothers Nausagi and Fukuro ran two miles to the lighthouse to tell him what Ushi had done. Maybe they realized he’d gone too far. Or they were scared I’d come back as a vengeful zombie. Either way, Gramps rescued me and demanded custody. Mama and Pops were glad to hand me over. One less mouth to feed, and I wouldn’t be causing their Future Marine Hero any more trouble.”

“That’s…that’s horrible.” And yet Nami could tell she was getting the abridged version of the story. “Tell me your grandfather was a better guardian.”

Despite the childhood trauma she’d just confessed to, Ikkaku merely shrugged, a small grin tugging at the corner of her lips. “Yeah. He was. Gramps was crazy, but he loved me and taught me how to fight. Told me to never lose my smile, ‘cause that’s my best protection against a world that’ll try to break me.”

“Bellemere said something similar to me and Nojiko. ‘Whatever happens, never lose your ability to laugh. If you can survive, happy times, lots of ‘em, will come your way’.”

“Smart lady.” She tried to casually run her fingers through her hair, only to find them caught in the tangled knots. She let out a light chuckle at her predicament and added, “I think she and Gramps would have gotten along pretty well. Well, assuming she liked salty former smugglers who had the gumption to threaten Law with a shot gun. Not that he didn’t deserve it a little.”

Nami had to smile at that, and she could only imagine what he’d said that had nearly gotten him shot. It was definitely something snarky, a shit-eating grin on his face while he provoked a protective grandfather just because he could.

Noticing Ikkaku’s hair situation, she abandoned her suit to instead pick up a wide-toothed comb. “Well, I’m not sure about Bellmere, but I’d certainly love to meet him.”

“Of course you would.” Leaning back in the chair, she allowed Nami to carefully put her thick curls to rights. “How was shopping? Boss show you the blinding sights of the city?”

“It was…enlightening,” she said cautiously. There was still so much to sort out, and every time she thought she had an answer to one of her questions, four more popped up in its place.

Grabbing the pen she’d been playing with earlier, Ikkaku handed it to her over her shoulder. “Here; I made you something, since I doubt you’ll be able to bring your Clima-Tact with you. Kinda why I was so focused—I wanted it to be ready by tonight.”

Curious, Nami inspected the item. It was a plain black ballpoint pen maybe a bit longer than her hand. There was an almost unnoticeable jolly roger engraved into the middle, and she ran her thumb over it idly. “You spent the whole afternoon making me a pen? I could have just as easily brought my stylus.”

“Oh, but a stylus is only good for writing. This is so much more useful. ‘The pen is mightier than the sword’, right? Click the top.”

She did so, and instead of an ink-filled nub, a small syringe, similar to an epi-pen, popped out. Her eyes widened in realization as Ikkaku explained, “Inside’s a powerful tranquilizer. Should knock any fool out in minutes if injected into the bloodstream. Takes longer if it’s ingested. It’s non-lethal to humans, so it should be safe to use on anyone you’re looking to knock out. Assuming they aren’t really Fishmen in disguise.”

“Why? Does it react differently for them?”

She grimaced. “Yeah. Severe allergic reaction. Anaphylactic shock typically. So, unless you want that on your conscience, humans only.”

Tucking the pen away for later, Nami nodded in understanding and went back to combing her hair. “Gotcha. Doubt it’ll be a problem, though. Jean Bart said this place is pretty humans-only.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s impossible for someone to have that kind of bloodline. If it’s diluted through a few generations, a lot of the time you can hide it and pass for human.”

“Hmmm, hadn’t thought of that.”

There was a moment where Nami could tell she was mulling something over. Even faced away from her, Ikkaku wasn’t hard to read, and it was only a matter of time before she voiced whatever question was on her mind.

While she waited, the ginger took the time to appreciate the texture of Ikkaku’s hair, combing out each curl individually so it wouldn’t frizz. The thick, black locks were coarser than her own, yet surprisingly soft despite her hard life at sea. Hair maintenance was extremely difficult living on the ocean, the salt and fluctuating weather of the Grand Line wreaking havoc on Nami’s much finer strands. And while Ikkaku was far more feminine than one would expect upon first meeting her, in the time they’d roomed together, she didn’t seem to put much more extensive care into her shiny locks than some leave-in conditioner.

Guess she’s just got some good genetics, Nami thought appreciatively. Either that or she’s hiding some amazing shampoo formula, and damn if she is I’ll never forgive her!

When Ikkaku at last broke her silence, the hesitation in her voice was palpable. “Hey, it was a Fishman who held you prisoner all those years, right? You ever…blame all Fishmen for what he did?”

It was an unexpected question, but a fair one, Nami supposed. Arlong had committed a crime so heinous she knew she’d never forgive him, and she knew there were plenty of people, especially ones who spent years abused by such a monster, who would project that hatred onto an entire race. But why even ask?

“I…not really. I mean, I can’t say I never lumped them all together in my head, since Arlong and his crew were my only baseline for Fishmen for a long time.” She bit her lip, thinking. “But that was when I was a kid. My view of things was a lot more black-and-white, mostly because I was bitter at my situation. As I got older, and the more I thought about it, the more I realized that it was stupid to think all Fishmen were like him. He was the one who hurt me, so he’s the only one who should get my hate.”

“So, you don’t hate them all?”

She shook her head. “Nah. Hell, I was even able to forgive a member of his crew. I’m sure you heard about how Luffy punched a Celestial Dragon?”

Ikkaku craned her neck up to look at her, dark eyes widening in shocked understanding. “Yeah? You saying the Fishman he defended—”

“One of Arlong’s crew. Hatchi. Like all of them, he hurt me too, but it was on his captain’s orders, and he clearly regretted it.” Well, it had been a bit more complex than that. Hell, when they’d first encountered him again, she’d nearly gone back on her promise to Camie to rescue him. Even if he hadn’t abused her like the others, he’d still been complacent in it. Still destroyed villagers homes, held her hostage, attacked the Navy ships that tried to come to the rescue. He hadn’t been blameless in the least. She would have had every right to demand that he be left to be killed or enslaved. That it was karma come to bite him in the ass.

Yet what had swayed her, apart from Camie’s determination to save him, was her own friends’ reactions to seeing him again. Those who knew her past had immediately been ready to turn the ship around and leave Hatchi to his fate. Of course she’d expected Sanji to be her knight in shining armor and want nothing to do with someone who had abused a lady, even by proxy. Zoro and Usopp had been a bit more surprising, though perhaps it shouldn’t have been. They knew what she’d been put through. Had fought and bled for her. Despite their sometimes heated disagreements, Nami knew she could count on them to always have her back.

The one who shocked her the most was Luffy. He might have flip-flopped between reason and his stomach, but the fact was, her loving, forgiving captain had actually held a grudge on her behalf. Hatchi and Arlong hadn’t done anything to him personally, but his nakama had suffered, and that wasn’t something he’d easily set aside. That genuine show of solidarity and loyalty to her had melted what ice had still been around her heart, which allowed her to truly forgive the octopus Fishman.

Yes, Hatchi had hurt her, but her hatred was solely reserved for Arlong, not his underlings who genuinely felt remorse.

“I’m not a saint or anything but hating Hatchi…it seemed pointless. He wasn’t the one who killed my mother. And blaming all Fishmen for the actions of one seemed pretty shitty. Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t kill Arlong if I had the chance, though.”

Nami could practically feel the tension drain from Ikkaku’s shoulders, and she couldn’t hide her smile before she looked away. “That’s good to know. That asshole deserves it, from what you’ve told me. He and my brother should meet, then get sacrificed to some kind of horrible sea monster. Plenty of hungry Sea Kings out there to feed.”

“Couldn’t happen to a nicer pair of guys,” Nami giggled as she ran the comb through the last strand of hair. “Though, that might be cruel to the Sea King. Poor thing deserves a better meal than shit like them.”

“True. We’ll just have to think of something else then. We can ask Law; he’s always got great suggestions.”

A shudder ran down her spine, though she had to admit, it wasn’t as horrified as she’d like. She justified it with the fact that Arlong was scum who deserved whatever painful death the likes of Law might propose. So did Ushi, from the sounds of things. Though, Law had said Ikkaku had begged him not to kill her brother. Why? Did she still care about Ushi due to their familial ties? Or was there something else?

Maybe she just doesn’t want her brother’s death on her conscience, Nami thought, putting the comb away and proceeding to raid the closet for shoes. I just hope that doesn’t come back to bite her someday.

XXX

Dinner on the Tang was certainly livelier and noisier than breakfast. Mainly because the crew didn’t have to walk on eggshells while waiting for Law to get his caffeine hit. Most of the time about a dozen different conversations could be heard, utensils clattered against plates, insults were tossed about, and laughter filled the air. But at the moment, the whole galley was silent save for Nami, who was telling the Heart Pirates—save for a few who’d been sent out on last-minute errands—all about her crew’s wild adventure on Skypiea.

“…so, after Luffy beat the crap out of him, Enel flew off to the moon in his gold airship, and we escaped the island with the help of an octopus balloon, our ship loaded with treasure!”

There was a pregnant pause as the Hearts stared at her in a mix of awe and disbelief. She’d had their undivided attention ever since Law announced that the Straw Hats had found Noland’s lost city of gold, all but demanding she tell the tale and not skimp on the details.

Naturally, those details made the story even more bizarre, practically unbelievable, but she gave them what they asked for, so they couldn’t complain. Even Law’s jaw had dropped once or twice in incredulity. Mostly at the part where Luffy’d been eaten by a giant snake and thus been hidden from Enel’s senses.

Finally, a few of the crew managed to find their voices.

“An orangutan nearly wrecked your ship with singing?” Shachi asked, face utterly baffled.

Penguin grabbed his hat and smacked him over the head with it. “That’s what you’re stuck on? That’s from way back in the beginning of the story!”

The ginger punched him in the shoulder in retaliation, which quickly devolved into a childish slap fight. “Well it’s weird, ok?”

“Weirder than Straw Hat punching Kami or the knock-up stream business or the ship that flew to the moon?”

“Yeah! You ever met an orangutan that could sing?!”

“No, but that’s not the point!”

“You met Monte Blac Cricket?” Ermine interrupted, eyes so wide the whites could be seen even under the rim of their hat, though their mouth quickly split into a smile. “Holy shit, I’d wondered what had happened to him!”

“Wasn’t he your friend or something?” Seiuchi asked through a mouth full of rice.

They shook their head, looking a little wistful, a faint blush rising to their cheeks. “Just a neighbor. The people of Lvneel were dicks to his family and anyone who associated with them didn’t get treated much better. But I always thought there had to be some truth to Noland’s story.”

“Because a city of gold is so fantastical it’s gotta be real?” Nami asked, amused. She’d half-expected everyone to laugh at her like the people on Jaya when she’d asked about Sky Island—she’d even glossed over that part, finding no reason to recap such a blow to her pride. Yet instead, they’d been respectful, even entranced by her tale. It seemed to help that she’d been able to fill in a few blanks with what she remembered from Noland’s ledger, thus adding credibility to the man himself instead of just imagining the lying fool the king’s slander had reduced him to.

Usopp would probably love these guys, she thought fondly. Not that they’d likely believe his fantastical lies, but they’d probably at least let him spin his yarns to his heart’s content.

“Because you don’t tell a king about a city of gold unless you’ve got something to show for it,” Uni interjected wisely, ladling some more curry onto her plate. He paused to smile at her with his eyes, the bottom half of his face still distinctly covered by his bandana despite it being dinnertime. This close, Nami couldn’t help but try to subtly look for signs of scarring, and in fact could spot a line of slightly-paler skin peeking out just over the edge. “That, and history’s rarely all that accurate. Full of lies and twisted to suit a certain narrative.”

“That’s the World Government way. I’m sure we’ll see plenty of it tonight,” Law stated, leaning back in his chair as he munched on some onigiri. The bulge in his cheek might have been comical, but the glint in his eye was humorless. “Can’t wait to hear the dumbass assumptions people make about us Northerners.”

Murmurs of agreement echoed throughout the room, though an angry tic formed on Nami’s forehead.

“Are you saying the stuff you had me study is going to be a load of crap?” she demanded, pointing her finger accusingly. Of course she knew history was skewed at best, but she’d spent days cramming! Had weird sexual dreams about him because of it!

Yes she was blaming the book for that and no one could stop her.

He shrugged and took another bite of rice, unbothered by her irritation. “It’s the information you’ll need to be able to regurgitate if anyone asks you about the North.”

“Yeah,” Penguin chimed in, nodding sagely. He and Shachi had finally been pulled apart by Jean Bart and had resumed eating like nothing had happened. “These people aren’t interested in the truth. They just want to feel superior to the ‘uneducated masses’.”

“Buncha pretentious pricks,” Shachi sniggered, balancing a spoon on his upper lip. “Bet they’d have a fucking fit if they found out El Dorodo’s not only real, but in the fucking sky!”

“I mean, can’t say I’d blame them,” Jude grumbled, playing a bit with his food like a grumpy child. “I figured we’d be the ones to find it, but this whole time we’ve been sailing around in a submarine for nothing!”

“You got something to say about my ship?” Ikkaku snapped, glaring at her crewmate. Behind her, Crozier, Cousteau, and Ermine made slashing motions across their throats, silently reminding him that disparaging the Polar Tang in any way in front of its chief engineer was a sure death sentence.

Before he could say anything, Uni thwapped him on the forehead with the spoon, apparently taking just as much offense. “How can you say it’s been for nothing—we’ve found tons of cool shit down here! May not have been El Dorado, but there have been some amazing sunken cities. And fish! We’ve discovered more aquatic animals than any other ocean explorer,” he pointed out excitedly, Cousteau nodding in agreement. “I mean, we’ve seen deep-sea fish not recorded in any book! Extracted hallucinogenic venom from puffer fish! Taken samples of bioluminescent plankton! We’ve seen octopi punch fish!”

“You ever figure out why they do that?” Shachi asked, cocking his head.

“Best I can figure? Spite.”

As weird as this little tangent was, Nami found herself giggling a bit at how excited Uni was. She didn’t know him too well, given how he was one of the quieter, more reserved members of the crew, but it was endearing to see him so animated and giddy as he discussed marine life.

“Plus, it’s cool to study navigational currents and everything, and underwater topography. The maps I can make from that kind of intel are really good,” Bepo added, twiddling his claws a bit beside her.

“Right! And if that’s still not enough to convince you, who needs a city of gold when you can get your hands on more sunken treasure than most pirates see in their lifetimes?” Uni asked, puffing out his chest.

She couldn’t help it—Nami’s eyes lit up with belli signs at the thought of how many sunken ships the submarine probably came across, all that gold theirs for the taking. Most treasure was basically lost once it hit the bottom of the ocean, but the Hearts’ ship and diving equipment turned the ocean floor into their personal piggy bank.

It seemed Jude had the same thought. “You’re right, you’re right,” he conceded, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, it’s a great ship, and we’ve definitely found more than a city’s worth of loot—and yes the fish are cool Uni put the spoon away—but it’s still annoying to find out that we’ve been searching the wrong place this whole time.”

“Eh, happens to every pirate crew,” Jean Bart said, sipping his drink. “You find a treasure map only to discover the gold’s already dug up. Same with legends of lost cities. The fact that the Straw Hats actually found El Dorado and came away with a profit just means they’ve got the Devil’s luck on their side.”

“Or the favor of some god. Probably not that Enel guy, though,” Shachi said with a smirk. “And hopefully nothing from Joras, either.”

There was a murmur of agreement among the crew at that, though Ikkaku looked more uncomfortable than amused. Nami wasn’t the only one to catch that, though, as Uni reproachfully smacked the side of his head with the spoon.

“Dude. Don’t joke about the eldritch horror gods, yeah?”

“Sorry,” the ginger said, blushing slightly as he wiped away the curry splattered across his face.

“Eldritch horror gods?” Nami asked, recoiling at the thought. What the fuck?! Joras sounded vaguely familiar and given the context she guessed it had to be someplace in the North Blue, but she sure as hell didn’t recall reading anything about that! Was this something related to Northern culture, or were the guys just fucking with her?

“Nothing to worry your pretty little head over, Nami-ya,” Law stated with a smirk, though she didn’t miss the glare he sent Shachi’s way. “We’ve been sailing under the ocean for over five years and I’ve yet to see a sleeping god who can turn you mad with terror.”

“No, just an underwater ruin or two that talks about him,” Ikkaku muttered, picking at her food.

Underwater ruins with tales of sleeping gods? Sounds like something Robin would be interested in, Nami thought, nervous sweat running down her neck. Not that she’d be able to blame her. Sure, the archeologist was macabre as hell, but Nami could appreciate her thirst for knowledge, creepy or not. Who knew what history and cultures had been lost to the seas? Maybe there were even Poneglyphs down at the bottom of the ocean!

Damn. Robin and Law would probably get along great. She wasn’t sure if she was frightened or comforted by this thought.

Uni seemed to notice her unease and patted her shoulder. “We’ve seen some strange stuff down there, but nothing more dangerous than Sea Kings. Which, I mean, aren’t exactly friendly guppies, but they’ll leave us be. The Tang’s Seastone coating and electrical defenses ensure that.”

Though she still found the whole concept horrifying, she was appreciated how hard Uni was trying to keep the peace and not make things needlessly frightening for her. The whole crew had a morbid sense of humor, but while she’d mostly adapted, she still found this whole conversation creepy. It made her feel a little guilty for wanting to pry into his business. Yeah, it was annoying to know the crew was hiding stuff from her, but Uni deserved a little privacy, right?

“Yeah, and if there were anything more, Uni’s fish buddies would warn us ahead of time!” Malamute added.

“Fish buddies?” Nami asked, eyebrows lifting to her hairline in surprise. So much for respecting his privacy. “Wait, can you talk to fish?”

The man in question stiffened beside her. “I, uh, I can understand fish a little,” he said, looking nervous. His large hands twisted the napkin in his lap, and he refused to look at her. “It’s a Haki thing.”

“Haki can do that?” she asked, surprised.

“Observation Haki can do a lot of things, and Uni’s the best at it on the ship,” Law cut in harshly, glare brokering no argument. “It’s a skill that’s saved our asses plenty of times.”

Nami blanched at his defensive tone. “Hey, I’ll take your word for it, but you don’t have to act like I insulted his mother or something.”

“It’s ok, Law,” Uni said, shrugging a bit, though his face seemed to sink a little further into his bandana. “I know she didn’t mean anything by it. It’s a fair question, and it is a weird talent.”

“It’s not weird. It’s fucking useful as hell and I won’t hear anyone belittling my crew.”

“I’d never belittle him—” Nami snapped, starting to stand up to give Law a piece of her mind before Bepo’s heavy paws fell on her shoulders, gently but firmly keeping her seated.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized softly. “Law doesn’t mean you. It’s just…the last person outside the crew that found out, he was extremely cruel about it. Beat Uni to a pulp and even threatened to sell him as a freak show attraction before Captain found them.”

“Oh my god,” she replied, anger cooling quickly as she covered her mouth in horror, imagining Uni bruised and bloody on the ground at the hands of some bastard. Well, that would sure as hell explain why Law had taken such offense. If such a thing had happened to Chopper because he could speak to animals, she’d likely be just as pissed. From the scowls on the rest of the Hearts’ faces, the whole crew felt similar. Her gaze flicked to the fuming captain. “I’m guessing he ended up on your operating table?”

“I wish,” he growled, gold eyes glinting in fury as he crossed his arms. “Marines showed up before I could cut out his heart. Must have been his lucky day, but luck won’t be enough to save him if I ever run into Hyena-ya again.”

“Hyena?” she asked, the name not ringing any bells.

“Bellamy the Hyena,” Bepo explained, snout wrinkling in distaste. “He’s also from the North.”

Oh. My. God, Nami thought, wondering if the world was really so small. “You said Bellamy, right? Blonde hair? Spring powers? Asshole with a stupid grin?”

Law cocked an eyebrow in mild surprise. “Seems you’ve encountered him before.”

She ground her teeth as she remembered the way he’d mocked Luffy’s dreams in the bar. “Yeah. On Jaya. His crew laughed at me for asking about Sky Island and his first mate tried to buy me. Later he stole Cricket’s gold, so Luffy went after him. I didn’t see the fight but given what an ass that guy was…yeah, Luffy wiped that stupid smile off his face.”

Once more the room fell silent, but quickly broke out into thunderous applause.

“Hah! I would have paid good money to see that!” Ikkaku laughed, spirits lifted.

“If he hurt Cricket, I’m glad he got the beating he deserved,” Ermine said with a grin.

Uni smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling happily. “When you see Straw Hat again, shake his hand for me! That guy’s a dick.”

Even Law was put in a better mood, though there was still a malicious edge to his smirk. “Good on Mugiwara-ya. Still wouldn’t mind doing some permanent damage to the fucker myself, though. Bad enough he insulted my crew, but that bastard should pick his idols more carefully.”

Nami’s brow furrowed at that. His idols? The hell did that mean?

She didn’t have time to vocalizing that question, though. Sweat ran down her neck when said smirk then took a more lecherous edge as he rested his chin on his fist, eyes glinting with mischief. “But Sarquiss-ya tried to buy you? I might have prioritize kicking his ass, then. I’m the only one who gets to be your sugar daddy.”

“Oh shut up! You didn’t even buy me new shoes!”

“You got her a suit but no shoes? For shame, Boss,” Ikkaku giggled, getting up to help Seiuchi and Jude clear the tables. “I thought you were supposed to be a ladies’ man.”

“I’m a cruel bastard who doesn’t do something for nothing. She can borrow yours.”

Sauntering over, she playfully poked him in the forehead. “Says who?”

Law snorted and childishly poked her right back. “Me. Your captain. The guy who pays your salary.”

“You pay me to keep the submarine running and sass you when you’re being an idiot.”

“I don’t pay you for that.”

“Mmmm, you’re right; that’s a service I provide for free.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say those two were siblings,” Nami chuckled under her breath.

“Right? When I was first recruited I was convinced they were secretly related,” Uni agreed.

Bepo gave them both a smile and said quietly, “I think it’s good for them. Especially Law. I think he secretly likes having a little sister again.”

Brown eyes widened at that little tidbit. Law had a sister? What happened to her? Bepo had stated the past tense, so there was either some kind of falling out or…

…oh no, she thought, turning to watch Law continue to bicker good-naturedly with Ikkaku, his expression annoyed but the glimmer in his eyes belying that he was enjoying himself. Another piece of the puzzle that was the Surgeon of Death had fallen into her lap, but it wasn’t a particularly happy one. Sure, people died or were killed all the time, but Nami couldn’t imagine what she’d be like if she’d lost Nojiko. And depending on how young they’d been or how she’d died, that could really fuck with a guy.

“Nami-ya.”

Her attention was yanked from her musing as Law called her name. He was on his feet, plate clean and smirk dangerous as he regarded her. Nami wondered whether this would be the last time she’d see him in a genuinely good mood for the rest of the evening. “It’s seven o’clock. Time to get ready to watch history be defiled by pretentious morons. And for your obnoxious thunder god’s sake, make sure you’re wearing shoes you can actually run in.”

( @ninhaoma-ya, @awesomi, @vannahfanfics)

#Fic: Welcome to the Heart Pirates #lawna #trafalgar law x nami #Trafalgar D. Water Law #lawnami #op fanfiction #op fanfic #heart pirates #heart pirate nami #ikkaku one piece #one piece ikkaku #uni one piece #law x nami #cat burglar nami #one piece nami #nami

42 notes · View notes

dtrhwithalex · 3 years

Text

TV | Leverage (Season 1, Rewatch)

Rewatch of the first season of TNT's LEVERAGE (2008-2012), created by John Rogers and Chris Downey together with Dean Devlin and his production company Electric Entertainment.

In anticipation of the show's reboot / revival / sequel LEVERAGE: REDEMPTION coming to IMDbTV on 09 July this year, I am rewatching the original 77 episodes and writing about my favourite moments and things from each episode, season by season.

(Just a note, this first season was aired out of order, so the dates won't actually form a chronology, since I'm going with the intended order rather than the one they were aired in.)

101: THE NIGERIAN JOB

D: DEAN DEVLIN. W: JOHN ROGERS & CHRIS DOWNEY. Original Air Date: 07 December 2008.

I have lost count of how many times I have seen this episode (or any episodes of this show to be completely honest), but it holds up every single time. It is one of my favourite, if not the favourite TV pilot episode I have ever seen.

The way this pilot sets up who the main characters are and what the core of this show is, is simply perfect. The introduction of Nate at the bar being approached by Dubenich, then the intercut between him convincing Nate to do the job and the actual job happening -- just wonderful. The same goes for the individual introductions of the other players. Nate's comment about Parker ("no, but Parker is insane") which plants a thread for the rest of the show already, the flashbacks of each character to exemplify who they and what their talents are, combined with the episode then showing you those talents and what Nate can do with them -- which is, of course, his talent -- sets up this whole show so well.

So many seeds that come to fruition throughout the show are already planted right here. Nate's mentoring of Parker to become his eventual successor as Mastermind ("Haircuts, Parker, count the haircuts" -- "I would've missed that"), Eliot's role as protector, the iconic overhead shots and the gloating, the alternate revenue streams, "Hardison dies in Plan M" -- it's all already right here in this episode. A brilliant piece of writing. Hats off to Rogers and Downey, no questions asked.

Rewatching this episode made me think of what this show is about, in its essence. Yes, it is about standing up for those who can't do so themselves, taking on the bigger bad, showing how corrupt and terrible the world can be, but also how much good there is to still find in the world. But also, this show is about a lonely man being actively bullied into the family he didn't know he needed or wanted, but will eventually come to realise is the one thing, the only thing that is keeping him alive. LEVERAGE is the story of a man and his crusade to avenge the death of his child, but is is very much also the story of a man who finds a reason to keep getting up every morning in the four people who are on this crusade with him. And this pilot episode already holds the seed and the potential of all of that. And that is why this show is to this day still my favourite show of all time, because it is utterly perfect in every way.

102: THE HOMECOMING JOB

D: DEAN DEVLIN. W: JOHN ROGERS. Original Air Date: 09 December 2008.

I absolutely love how John Rogers was like okay first episode, some greedy asshole who does whatever he wants for his own gain, we'll take him down a notch. Episode two? Hmm, oh yeah, the government is completely corrupt, filled with rich greedy assholes who do whatever they want for their own gain and always get away with it. Not on my watch (I love him very much, thank you).

This episode, once again, so good. The re-introduction of every character in this new reality of Nate's crusade is just as brilliantly done as the original introduction of them all. Sophie at an audition (love the John Rogers cameo here) completely butchering it once again, Eliot beating up some thug, Parker stealing valuable art, and Hardison doing what he does best: creating a beautiful office-slash-home space for the team, putting his all into their backstories, the equipment, the behind-the-scenes workings of what they need to get the job done. My man.

The message of this particular episode is also just something I am very fond of. The rehab facility doctor's words in the beginning, and then in the end again -- "people don't just show up to help. that's not the way the world works" -- as well as Nate's ultimate answer to her, "so change the world." That right here is the message of this show. It's already right here, all up in your face, episode two.

I completely adore what this episode does for the character dynamics already. The detail Hardison puts into the other's backstories, the interactions around the conference table, Eliot sharing his knowledge, Nate explaining the money laundering scam, the whole thing about laws being in a wooden box, Sophie elaborating why she knew Congressman Jenkins was lying to her -- they don't just work together, they already start giving the others insight into their talents and their knowledge and share that. It's beautiful. I especially adore the shot of them at the end, everyone leaning against the car while watching Corporal Perry and the other veterans debating what to do with the money. They are already so comfortable and at ease with each other, leaning into each other's spaces. They're family. You can see it here already.

Absolutely fantastic episode. For a long time, whenever I thought about The Homecoming Job, I somehow associated a more negative emotion with it than with other episodes, but I don't quite know why, because this is a brilliant episode and I love watching it.

103: THE WEDDING JOB

D: JONATHAN FRAKES. W: CHRIS DOWNEY. Original Air Date: 13 January 2009.

We love Jonathan Frakes in this house and every single time his name shows up with the director tag on this show, I know that I will enjoy every last second of the episode I am about to watch. Frakes directed the hell outta this thing. The Wedding Job is an absolutely excellent episode. Dan Lauria as our main baddie Nicky Moscone is perfect casting and there are so many great comedic beats in the scenes with him and Nate. Everyone, generally, is so weirded out by Priest!Nate, but Moscone just takes the weirdness in stride. This episode holds a very special place in my heart because it contains the introduction of my favourite FBI duo -- McSweeten (McSweetheart, as we call him) and Taggert. I adore these two bumbling fools so much, and I am so glad they kept being brought back, because they are both just so lovely. McSweetheart especially is very dear to me because of the D.B. Cooper Job from the last season (where, I ask, do I start my McSweetheart for Leverage: Redemption campaign?). Overall just such an excellent episode, really. So many great moments between our main characters--Sophie and Nate and their little "relationship" problem, Hardison and Eliot talking about marriage, Parker pretending she was waiting in the screening room to have sex with Hardison, Hardison appreciating Eliot's cooking. I also absolutely adore the beginning, the four of them convincing Nate that Teresa is definitely the type of client they take on. And Nate's resigned "Yeah, okay, yeah. Let's go rob Nicky Moscone. A guy who kills people and lives in our city. Yeah, let's go do that" as if they weren't going to go above and beyond any of that in the five years they will spend together on this crusade of his. You're so precious, Nathan. Of course, the ending of this episode is beyond brilliant, and lives both in my heart and my head rent free. It is such a magnificent found family moment. Getting Teresa the restaurant back, the news footage regarding Ray's appeal, and of course, Eliot cooking for them all, and them celebrating together, all of them. It is such a beautiful moment.

104: THE SNOW JOB

D: TONY BILL. W: ALBERT KIM. Original Air Date: 27 January 2009.

I adore what the client says to Nate in the beginning of the episode: "You work hard, you play by the rules, but when you need help, you really need help? They let you hang. They let you hang and it's your kid who pays the price." This show hammers home its message so many times in such great character moments and it makes watching these brilliant people take on these greedy bastards and robbing them for all they've got that much sweeter. It is such a satisfying thing to watch. Especially because they're all so damn good at this.

This is a great episode but it is infinitely funnier if you know and speak German, because it makes the scenes between Sophie and Eliot absolutely hysterical. And the delivery of the line that Ute Ausgartner says when she discovers they replaced her with Sophie is just wrong enough to crack you up.

Again some wonderfully brilliant comedic beats -- the Frakes cameo in the hospital waiting room, Parker casually hanging off the ski lift, Hardison and Eliot arguing over who puts dye in the dead body, Eliot carrying off a pissed of Parker, and so many more.

This episode also, for the first time, really gives insight into Nate's drinking problem. We had the one moment in The Homecoming Job, but this episode starts to explore it more in depths. And something that I've always appreciated about this show is that it never glorifies the drinking, but Nate is also never vilified for it. It is a fact of Nate's life and they explore different aspects of it, and everything is done with such care (which does not surprise me one bit since this is John Rogers' show).

The ending of this episode is also, once again, so beautiful and nicely done. It is just so incredibly satisfying to watch these greedy bastards get what's coming to them, and to see the clients be compensated beyond anything they'd ask for.

105: THE MILE HIGH JOB

D: ROB MINKOFF. W: AMY BERG. Original Air Date: 20 January 2009.

Another fantastic episode (you will realise that I will say this about every single of the 77 episodes this show has)! Amy Berg wrote some excellent stuff for this show, and this episode is one of them. Always a lot of great character relationship moments, and absolutely brilliant comedic beats.

I am very fond of the fact that here, in the early days, we have the whole team present around the table during the client meeting. We see all their reactions and inputs here already, and not later when Nate or Hardison (usually) relays the information of their next job to the rest of the gang. It's a very lovely moment.

I am also very fond of the entire recon bit at the GenoGrow office. Sophie's French rave-girl act, the others having to climb stairs, Hardison's absence, the cut from Parker's bomb to the microwave at the HQ, Nate, Eliot and Parker yelling "Oh it's right behind us, it's chasing us!" and grabbing Sophie on the way out, meanwhile the security guys completely buying it. Absolutely brilliant, all the way through.

Both Hardison's adventure at GenoGrow as well as the others on the plane contain so many great comedic moments. Hardison's Spanish maintenance guy act, his interactions with both Cheryl and Steve (talking into the cupboard? His fake meeting and getting Steve to take a dive? The whole birthday thing? A+ all around. Amy Berg, everyone) and of course the reaction he has to the plane safely landing on the highway ("lord I was so scared, I wanna cry and call my momma" I love him so much, y'all). I also have big feelings about Nate's pep talk to Hardison, "you can do this, I trust you ... the only guy I can count on in a situation like this." Sir, I am experiencing an emotion alright.

The sequences on the plane are of course also absolutely fantastic. Nate and Sophie's domestic, Parker's day job and her interactions with Marissa, Eliot being a big softie who holds Marissa's hand all the way up to the in-flight bar and hugs the woman he sat down next to when they safely land (womaniser, big softie. tomayto, tomahto). Also big shoutout to the fake names Nate and Sophie have. We love our DOCTOR WHO references in this show. I love these nerds very much, thank you.

106: THE TWO HORSE JOB

D: CRAIG R. BAXLEY. W: MELISSA GLENN & JESSICA RIEDER (GRASL). Original Air Date: 16 December 2008.

This episode also holds a very special place in my heart because it contains the introduction of our dearly beloved antagonist, Mr Jim Sterling, the absolutely amazing Mark Sheppard. We love Sterling in this house, yessir (again, where do I have to address my Jim Sterling For Leverage: Redemption campaign to?). Every moment he is in is fantastic, but I especially adore the conversation he has with Nate at the race track (especially the "Nathan Ford is a common criminal" -- "Common. That's just hurtful" bit of it).

This, of course, is an episode by our wonder twins, Glenn and Rieder (now Grasl), which they ended up naming the in-universe safe company after. Always fantastic work when the two of them are involved. Some amazing character moments again here.

We get to see some of Eliot's backstory with Aimee which in turn gives us two fantastic moments with him and the women of the team. I love his interaction with Sophie at the racetrack: "I like Aimee, I do. I mean it, I like you both, Eliot. I just, I don't know what comes of chasing the past, you know." -- "Well Sophie, sweetie, I don't think you and Nate get to serve me that particular meal." Just fantastic moment between these two, who I like to call The Conference of Mom Friends whenever they are in scenes together. The other interaction is with Parker in the car: "We need you to do this. I need you to do this." I adore Eliot and Parker's relationship and this already is a very early glimpse at the dynamic they develop which will eventually lead to beautiful moments like that in the ice cave in The Long Way Down Job in season four.

I also love how it is Hardison and Parker's discussion about horses that ultimately reminds Nate of the Lost Heir con. Aldis' delivery of "Wilbur loved Mr Ed! He loved him like a second cousin twice removed" is absolutely brilliant. Unsurprisingly, however, my favourite interaction of this episode is the one Eliot has with Aimee at the end: "You're never gonna be the kind to settle down, but I'm glad you found a family." -- "Th-those guys?" Yes, Eliot, those guys. You might not know it just yet, but that is absolutely your family, and the fact that an outsider already comments on it this early is simply perfect. My deepest gratitude to you, wonder twins.

107: THE BANK SHOT JOB

D: DEAN DEVLIN. W: AMY BERG. Original Air Date: 30 December 2008.

Amy Berg on the typewriter once again (typewriter? Alex what are you talking about this was 2008...)! I really like this episode a whole lot. An excellent one for Nate/Sophie, as well as Hardison/Parker. I have a huge soft spot for my crime children pretending to be law enforcement. Any combination of them is good, but Parker and Hardison as FBI agents especially is just exquisite.

This episode is also just fantastic for illustrating some of the small town criminal activity that happens from the top down. Judge Roy's entire bit about how "these little people" will do and say whatever he tells them to do and that, because he is the law in the town, he gets to decide what is actually true and what is not. To then have Hardison fake security footage and them turning the story against Judge Roy is of course poetic justice. I adore the moment when the bank manager Frank decides that sticking with the false facts these random people have come up with is the better choice than having the judge remain in charge.

I also really love the interaction Derrick has with Sophie and then later with Parker, as well as the moment of uncertainty in-between. His "I don't know what to do with that" when Sophie tells him she's a thief is so funny and so good. The turn of "but they're criminals....then again" when he looks out of the window on the way to Parker is also just a nice moment to illustrate exactly what Parker then later says, "sometimes bad guys are the only good guys you get." Ethics and justice are such muddy concepts and especially in situations like Derrick is currently in, there is no way of knowing who is actually good, who is bad, and who is just trying their best. It is a lovely moment and once again, one of those great instances of "important message within character moment" that this show does so well.

Of course, I am also very fond of Hardison's mention of DOCTOR WHO, his "Geek power baby, stay strong" line, Eliot's fight scene with the crack dealers ("stay in the car!"), Hardison's bullshitting the demands at the bank (Hall & Oates!) and, of course, last but not least, the return of my favourite FBI fools, McSweetheart and Taggert, getting yet another win laid in their lap by the Leverage crew. This episode is filled to the brim with greatness.

108: THE MIRACLE JOB

D: ARVIN BROWN. W: CHRISTINE BOYLAN. Original Air Date: 23 December 2008.

An absolutely excellent Nate-centric episode! We finally get a bit more of a view into Nate's past, aside from the ever-present flashback to Sam's death at the hospital. I really like the relationship of Nate and Father Paul, which I think is very interesting and so well done. Through Paul we get another side of Nate, which may have stayed hidden otherwise. I am also very fond of how Maggie is introduced here. She doesn't get a voice yet, but we learn about her through Nate, Sophie and also Paul, and I quite like that. It sets up expectations for her appearance in the finale, which is really intriguing.

This episode has so many great comedic beats as well, and I barely even know where to begin. From the team's inability to deal with Sophie's acting talents (or lack thereof) to the whole "It's not Santa" gag, the amazing faces Sophie pulls when the mark tells her about Bibletopia, Hardison's "God will smite us" thing -- there is just too much good stuff in this episode.

One of my favourite interactions in this episode was on the construction site, after Grant takes what he thinks are his meds.

Sophie: What is that you just took? Grant: Xanax. For my nerves. Parker: Actually caffeine. With a dash of dextroamphetamine. Eliot: You have him speed? Hardison, shrugging: He beat up a priest!

The look Eliot gives them then with a half-shrug, an expression which cannot be described as anything but "aight, fair enough" -- just absolutely excellent.

What I also really loved about this episode, is that we get to see more of the HQ than just the conference room. We have the team meeting in Nate's office, we see Sophie picking through her mail, Hardison making space so he can build fake Saint Nick statues. Added to that, the team is setting into such a nice familiarity with each other. Eliot brings Sophie a cup of coffee to the meeting in Nate's office. The fact that they all do get mail at the office. This is their space. I love it so much.

What this episode also gives us, is a first instance of the con possibly going side-ways because of how convincing it is. I adore that their possible downfall will never be incompetence, but rather over-competence. They are so good at what they do that sometimes their talent comes to bite them in the ass. We see this again, a bit different, in The Juror #6 Job.

The ending of this episode is very dear to me. It is a very lovely moment between Nate and Paul, but also Nate and the team. It creates such a beautiful moment of intimacy between these characters, which I think is done with extreme care, and it shows. This episode also very nicely sets up a nice sort of grounded-ness for the next episode, which I think the subject matter really deserves and needs.

109: THE STORK JOB

D: MARC ROSKIN. W: ALBERT KIM. Original Air Date: 06 January 2009.

This one and the next episode are excellent Parker-centric plots and this one in particular also has some wonderful Parker/Hardison content. Nate, also, is just very good in this episode as well. Keeping the tone the last episode established especially toward the end, this episode has such a nice grounded-ness to it. Nate's first meeting with the client is so careful in a way, and we don't always see that. Generally, Nate is careful and considerate in this episode, I think. Even when Parker goes rogue, he is so good with Parker (I attribute the brashness entirely to his director role here). It meant so much that he doesn't shoot down the idea of coming back for the other orphans, he knows how important this is to Parker (and Hardison).

With this episode we learn that both Parker and Hardison have grown up in the foster system. I really adore the conversation they have at the van after they find out about the orphanage -- Hardison telling Parker about his Nana, Parker's fear that foster system will be cruel to those children, Hardison's "I like how you turned out" -- it is such a lovely and meaningful moment. This and the "we're a team" / "a little more than a team" moments are such great instances that highlight the importance of these characters and their relationships in this show. It isn't just some crime procedural where every characters is replaceable at any given moment -- this show is about people, and about these specific people.

On a lighter note, I also really adore Nate and Sophie's dynamic in this. How they coach Parker and Eliot individually but at the same time, while also arguing about Sophie conning Nate back in the day, is just brilliant. Their "delightful banter" as Hardison calls it, is so good, and I absolutely love that Nate figures out the way to con Irina is the same way he would have to con Sophie. It's just too good.

David S. Lee as Nicholas is also incredibly good, although since watching THE LIBRARIANS I always expect him to swoon over a blonde and call her Duchess any minute.

110: THE JUROR #6 JOB

D: JONATHAN FRAKES. W: REBECCA KIRSCH. Original Air Date: 10 February 2009.

The lighter of the two Parker-centric episodes, but a brilliant one nonetheless. This episode also brings us the introduction of Peggy played by the lovely Lisa Schurga. We love Peggy in this house and, once again, I ask: where do I address my Peggy For Leverage: Redemption campaign to?

This episode is great for many different reasons, one of course being that Hardison is so good at what he does, that Parker's alias has to go to jury duty. What a talent, we absolutely have no choice but to stan. I love him so much. Other fantastic things that make this episode absolutely excellent are

- Nate's "there is not some evil conspiracy lurking behind the curtain of every routine civic activity" speech which he then has to retract,

- Sophie teaching Parker about persuasion with the help of Eliot who is absolutely precious in this interaction,

- Eliot's friend Donnie, who poses as another employee from the company Sophie pretends to be from, who then turns out to be Scottish,

- Nate and Sophie sending the kids off to work at the door, with a briefcase and handshake for Hardison and a snack and high-five for Parker,

and Hardison's entire act as a lawyer. He is so good. Of course his stalling is brilliant, but the turn-around once he has to actually try and win the trial? A masterpiece. I love how he tears the doctor apart for his drunken airplane misconducts, but what takes the cake by miles is of course his closing statement. He is just, so good, and such a goodhearted, wonderful person. I love how he directly addressed Parker. Hardison is full of sunshine and I love. him. so. much.

And I would be remiss not to mention how incredibly fond I am of the rest of the team watching the feed of the jury room from the HQ with such proud looks on their faces as Parker leads the other jury members and they vote in favour of the plaintiff. This is their girl and she's done so well. What a brilliant episode. My love to Becky Kirsch, honestly.

111: THE 12-STEP JOB

D: ROD HARDY. W: AMY BERG & CHRIS DOWNEY. Original Air Date: 03 February 2009.

Another episode, another instance of me asking the question: Where do I address my Hurley for Leverage: Redemption campaign to? We love Hurley! Drew Powell is absolutely fantastic, I adore him. Also huge shoutout to Joseph LoDuca for that absolute banger of a song that plays during the intro and the credits.

This episode has some fantastic Eliot/Hardison moments that are very dear to me. The two of them looking for Hurley and fighting over Hardison's slushy spill is just lovely. The whole car bomb sequence is also just completely brilliant. It's such a step in their relationship and I love it so much. The moment of "D'you want me to kick it?" / "God, I'm gon' die" is a wonderful comedic beat in this tense situation, but it is the bit after that I really adore. Hardison figuring out how to trick the bomb and then,

Eliot: What's our margin of error here? Hardison: 'bout half a second. Eliot: Run the ba-bag of bricks by me again? Hardison: Are you ready? Eliot: No.

I am just, so fond of these two. Also the fact that Eliot's hand shakes when he reaches for the cables and waits for Hardison's signal always puts me all up in my feelings about him. I also of course adore the scene at the rehab facility with Hardison's "I'm with him. No, I am with him. See, he thinks the flirting makes me jealous, but it doesn't. But if you was like Brad Pitt or Denzel or somebody, oh girl it would be on." It love it so much.

Nate, of course, is also just great in this episode. His entire experience in rehab is another wonderful insight into his character, his issues, how he sees himself and so on. The hallucination of Sterling says so much about him. I think this also very nicely sets up how Nate behaves in the finale double episode.

I also really want to mention Parker here, because Parker in rehab is also something I am very fond of. I love the moment where she pickpockets the Koreans searching for Hurley and then so innocently comes to Nate to confess what she's done and tells him in this tiny voice "I didn't meant to, it was just instinct." I love her so much. And her, at the end of the episode, skipping along and then running toward her people, jumping on Eliot while tossing her stuff at Nate, and then going to hug Hardison, is such a lovely moment. I love how the three of them then walk toward the car arm in arm, too. I love these kids.

112: THE FIRST DAVID JOB

D: DEAN DEVLIN. W: JOHN ROGERS. Original Air Date: 17 February 2009.

First half of the first finale! I gotta say I really love the David Jobs very much. It is such a fantastic first finale. I really adore how the opening of this episode is mirrored in the opening of the second half.

Given the set-up of the previous episode, I really like how for a first time watcher, this opening sequence very much looks like Nate is completely off the rails doing his own thing getting revenge on the man who, basically, killed his son. It isn't until Blackpoole introduces Nate to 'Portia' and we see Sophie turn around that it becomes clear that we're on the con, which I think is done very nicely. Only then giving the viewer the "how we got here" part is just great.

This episode of course also brings us, finally, Maggie (yes, I'll ask again: where do I address my Maggie For Leverage: Redemption campaign to?). I absolutely love how she is introduced here as Eliot's date. I also love how absolutely terrified Eliot looks once he realises that she isn't just anyone, but Nate's ex-wife. Maggie is such an excellent character, and I adore her. I also am very appreciative that this episode holds the singular moment of jealousy Sophie has toward Maggie. After her momentary outburst as Maggie tells Nate she hasn't stopped caring about him, we never see it again. Even better, once Maggie learns about Nate's crew, Sophie and her even become friends. And it is lovely.

We also have some great Parker/Hardison moments in this episode as well. I adore Parker and her enthusiasm for their "little naked man" and Hardison being weirded out about it (and turning the little David around so Parker can change in private). I, of course, absolutely love the kiss (and Eliot's grinning question at Sophie who of the two of them Parker had kissed) and then the theft of the First David. Hardison is so in awe of Parker and it is a sight to behold.

I also quite enjoy the "downfall" in this episode. Sterling showing up (we love the bastard), the fight between Eliot and Mr Quinn, the conversation about Sophie conning them on the roof, and then of course the final confrontations on that same roof as well as the HQ. This whole thing of "and then I asked myself, what would Parker do?" / "but then I thought, what would Hardison do?" is just brilliant and lovely. It shows how far they have all come throughout this first season and how much they have learned from each other already. I am very fond of it.

I am sad about the offices being blown up, though. As much as I love both McRory's pub and Nate's apartment in Boston, as well as the Brewpub in Portland, I've always really liked the LA offices as well. It was their first home and it was lovely. I am however very happy that Old Nate made it out unscathed.

113: THE SECOND DAVID JOB

D: DEAN DEVLIN. W: JOHN ROGERS & CHRIS DOWNEY. Original Air Date: 24 February 2009.

And the last episode! As I've said above, I adore how this opening sequence mirrors that of The First David Job. Similarly, I also love how until Sophie notices Parker's laser pointer and Eliot sees Hardison, as a viewer you assume they are on the job together, which is again the reversal of the first half of the finale. Just lovely storytelling, I adore it. Speaking of mirrors, the scene in the MC Hammer mansion where Nate inconspicuously manages to get them all thinking about the con together and putting their differences aside once more, also mirrors one of my favourite scenes from the first episode of season two, where the team does the same to Nate.

This episode on the whole I also just marvellous. Eliot's awkward date with Maggie, Nate finally telling Maggie about Blackpoole's involvement (or lack thereof) in Sam's death, the team involving Maggie in the planning of the con and her, precious as she is, questioning Nate's ability to just get people to do what he wants -- it is all just so good. I love Maggie on the con, too. Sophie coaching her, how good Maggie is at it immediately. Just lovely.

Then, of course, the entirety of the con from the moment Nate shows up at the museum. Sterling hurrying all over the place trying to figure out what Nate's plan is, finding out about the mummy, the release of the gas, the evacuation, the David statue replicas, them finally getting in and finding Nate alone in the exhibit room. I adore that shot of him leaning against the display case with the two Davids still inside, only highlighted from the open hatch in the roof. It is such a beautiful shot. I really enjoy Nate and Sterling's dynamic here, too. And I am very happy that Maggie gets to punch Blackpoole just like Nate got to in the episode before. They both deserve to give this man hell.

The ending of this episode and therefore this season always has me in all of my emotions. If I didn't know there would be more after this, I would just go lie down and weep for a while after watching it. The trademark overhead walkaway shot is of course a must, but the fact that they stop, that all of them hesitate, thinking about turning around, thinking about changing their minds. And then it cuts to black, and if this had been it, we would've never known! Ah, what a show, what a first season. I am completely in love with this show, as pretty much everyone knows, but I just -- this show is so damn good. It gets me every single time. Every time.

[image taken from the electricnow website]

37 notes · View notes

skelanonymous · 3 years

Text

Song Prompt 2

I basically took this as “think on your mistakes, go forward, it’ll be okay”

@a-weird-tree

Words:4.2k

Song(s): It’s Alright - Mother Mother/Panic Room - Au/ra

Skeleton: Nightmare

“I’m here if you need me.”

Nightmare wished the last words he’d heard didn’t have to be from Dream, even if it made a lot of poetic sense considering the task he was on.

The ashen landscape hadn’t changed in the millenia he’d been gone. Nothing different from the day he left, only a statue no longer standing by her side, even the grass dead and non-growing. Time had left this place, following his brother in its frozen state, though the life of this place hadn’t been returned like it had to Dream.

So many bodies. The lack of time had halted the rot, blood stained dirt muddy and thick near his sneakers. The gentle pull from his soul made him sigh before standing up straight to walk into the mass of buildings off east of the hill.

Walking over the uneven cobblestone (made by hand by an older stonesmith who’d been teaching his son at the time), his eye slid over the multiple empty homes. Shops with goods still lining the shelves, broken glass shattered across the wooden floorboards, countertops in disarray from the frantic fleeing they’d attempted, it fell on his chest like an anvil, breath stolen. He pushed past it to step around behind the counter.

He’d only needed to browse for a moment before finding what he was looking for. He grabbed it with his hands, gathering some provisions in a bag before heading back out to his new home.

From the top of the hill, the field expanded westward for a mile uninterrupted. That’s where he’d have to start.

With a blank face, he forced the shovel into the dirt and hauled out the first of many piles. He couldn’t do a full six feet with his hands, but three would give them rest. No animal could dig them out, all had long since gone, so that’d have to be enough.

The shovel was clumsy in his grasp. His hands ached with the work of it before even the first grave had been dug, not used to ignoring his tentacles, where his strength and power were most potent, but no. They had been laid low by his corruption. If he was to find any sense of recompense in the act, it had to be his own two hands by which he sent them to peace.

Shovelful by shovelful, the dirt to the side grew larger than the hole until the first was done.

The first was going to be the hardest to get here.

When the idea had first occurred, it’d been before the truce. He had too much to do, his own corruption as valuable an ally in his fight as any of the others, perhaps moreso. Too much was left to fight for that required its defense.

He had brushed the idea aside completely until the truce had been first drafted. But the truce was fresh, easily broken with a word. Animosity did not dissolve within a fortnight, nor did camaraderie grow, even under the promise of fresh sunlight and clean water. He couldn’t send his best soldier home when war could break out at any second. As weary as it made him, he had carried this longer than he had existed at this point, five times more spent in this shadow than under the shade of his mother. The memories were faded and grey at the edges. He could live without them.

Days to weeks, months to years, all of his company had learned to move on. He’d held none back from their progress. The peace in their eyes made his own ache, but he wished them the best. The last had been Dust, his the hardest to truly relieve. Time truly could heal all wounds.

“I think I’m gunna go to Horror’s timeline...Now that’s the shortage is over, it’s pretty quiet there.” Dust had shuffled in the main hall. He looked so uncomfortable, Nightmare trying to pull his own aura back into himself.

“And Horror is there.” Nightmare took a step back, gesturing to the door with a kind bow. “You’ll do well with him. You suit each other.”

Dust blushed purple, eyelights flicking around, before resettling on Nightmare with sorrow in the lines of his face.

“You could come too.” He looked him in the face, desperate. “Being alone isn’t good for people bo-Nightmare.” Dust fiddled with his sleeves.

“I would impede your progress Dust. My part in your life has come to a conclusion, and I am at peace with that.” Nightmare hoped the smile was reassuring. Dust had fought against the psychosis, no sanity came as hard fought as Dust’s, he deserved the rest. “I have always survived, you don’t have to worry about me.”

“They ask me about you all the time, you know.” He inched closer to the door. A compromise.

“And I ask you about them. We spent a long time together.” Nightmare hadn’t seen any of them since they left the castle. He knew his aura was poison to their progress, an ever present reminder of all they tried to move forward from. He missed them more than he could say. “But even now, you can’t help but call me boss. You have fewer nightmares when you sleep in other timelines. You can’t be here, and I can’t go there with you.”

“We would give up all our progress if it meant seeing you not stay here alone for the rest of your life.” Dust’s eyes watered. “We all wanted you to make it out of here. Being the last means that I failed too.”

“You didn’t fail.” Night wanted so badly to reassure him, but he was negativity, his touch would rob the little strength he had to leave. “I don’t know if I can be saved.” The truth hurt to say. “I wouldn’t even know where to begin. How does one unlearn all that you are?”

“You don’t have enough faith in yourself. Please.” Dust had held out his hand, the other on the door.

Nightmare knew if he reached out, Dust would turn to him and try to save him from himself. But no. Night pulled his hands to his chest.

“Go. He’s waiting for you.” Dust had left with a slammed door.

Then silence.

Silence for months, nothing but dust and books for friends. He’d kept to his castle, afraid of even glancing at them from portals, of bringing as much misfortune as he had to wherever he touched.

The idea had come back to him on the anniversary of Dust’s departure. He’d sent out a small summon to his brother, who’d come the instant he’d been called, fearing the worst.

“Brother?!”

“I’m right here Dream. I’m not in peril.” He looked up from his book, seated on a bench. Nightmare took to reading in the courtyard most days. He’d gotten through every book once before, this was one of his favorites to reread. “Though I’m thankful for your haste if I was.”

“I mean, yeah! No one’s heard from you in a while. I was starting to think…”Dream shook his head. “So what do you need? Anything I can do to help.” He held out his golden glove to Night. He had taken it so hesitantly, his brother the only person who he couldn’t affect but unused to contact after so long.

“I have things to show you.”

He’d brought him through the castle. He led him to every magical artifact, the secret chambers that hid anything placed within them, and a copy of the key to his treasured library. His entire legacy, every tool, things that could not be replaced.

“I think that’s everything. I’m entrusting this knowledge to you Dream. It felt important you know. The others deserve to not be called upon.”

“I agree but why would I need to call them? It’s your castle. I can just ask you.” Dream looked him over with worried eyes. “Right?” Nightmare sighed.

“No.” He held up a hand before Dream could yell. “I am going to be away from the castle. I do not know for how long.”

“Doing what?! Because telling me about ALL of this means this is a long trip!” Night could see all of Blue’s influence in him, almost professionally assessing him to see what they could work through. He was eternally grateful to Blue for his services but not for the inquisition he’d face for this decision.

“It most likely will be very long.” Nightmare didn’t elaborate.

“What are you planning?” Dream grabbed his shoulders, full brotherly concern on display. Night smiled at him. Dream panicked harder. “Nightmare, please don’t do anything drastic. Everyone really cares about you.” Night chuckled but it didn’t reach his tired eyes.

“Unfortunately, drastic is the only way I know.” He flicked Dream on his crown, nose scrunched up with the twang. “I don’t plan on dying in some corner of the world. I’m not a wounded animal.” Nightmare held the trembling hands in front of him. “I just need to go find something.”

“Well let’s go look toge-”

“Alone.”

“Nightmare.” He pleaded with his eyes. “You’ve been alone for so long already. Who was the last person you saw besides me?”

“Dust.” He didn’t shy away from the shock.

“That was a YEAR ago.” Dream pulled him towards the nearest door. “You just need to-”

“Dream.” He’d never felt so tired. It’d been many moons since he’d pulled this card, he only hoped his brother would understand. “Daydream, please.”

The fight drained from Dream in an instant. His eyes softened to tears, so much younger in that moment than Nightmare had seen since he’d awoken from that statue. Nightmare wiped a few away, meeting his eyes with renewed effort, resigned but ready.

“I need this. You’re the only one I can trust with the multiverse. I need you to carry it for both of us. I’m sorry to set it upon your shoulders.”

And Dream, the kind person he was, didn’t hesitate.

“I can handle it Nighty.” He pulled him into a hug. “So you keep looking until you find what you need to. I’ve got stuff handled here, and plenty of help if I get a little overwhelmed. Just...come back.” He’d waved Nightmare off into his portal with a smile.

“I’m here if you need me.”

The first body was the last. She’d been young, the last child, protected at the expense of the adults around her at every turn. He couldn’t even recall her name now. He found her in the forest, picking up her broken body as carefully as he feasibly could using only his arms. He started the sad march towards the hole.

He laid her in the earth with dignity. He cleaned off her face, finding a dropped toy nearby that felt familiar when he saw it, which he tucked into her arms.

Nightmare reflected on her death.

“The last of those bastards. Any last words?!” She’d only screamed. He cut her down painfully, multiple stabs with sharpened corruption, watching her bleed out to satisfy his own need for vengeance, served a hundred times over before this last death. His body fought his revulsion but he let the feeling flow. He’d been despicable.

A flash of memory from that night. It was gone before he could catch it.

He waited another few moments before taking up the shovel again. He covered her as quietly as he’d dug the grave, slow painful work on his hands that he trudged forward through. After the last bit of dirt had settled, he found a stone and placed it at the head.

Then he walked to the right and started again.

Nightmare managed three graves by the time he could not continue. He’d gotten the two people he’d felled just before the girl. He grieved each, laying them to rest, stumbling and pained, but he wanted to do this the right way.

When he could no longer continue, he pulled an apple from the provisions he’d grabbed.

He put it back.

Nightmare made his home by the tree, laying by her stump. He’d spent so many nights here, but the stars didn’t jog his memory at all. Nothing remained of before, none of what mattered to him. His mother was dead, Dream off running the multiverse, he himself changed, what could he even recognize?

He didn’t recall drifting off, though the nightmares that played across his mind meant he had to have slept.

Night grabbed a bit of bread, looked up at the unchanging sky, and got to work again.

For weeks, the same pattern: wake, eat, lay the villagers to rest, consider the apple, sleep restlessly. Night’s corruption claimed his mind first, and many lives after. He owed them all the proper burial they’d been denied for centuries now.

Each dream got more vivid. The first taste of corruption, the first few to fall, turning Dream to stone, it got clearer each day. It wasn’t doing wonders to his sanity. Part of him wondered if this was the best chance of recovery, or of losing it completely and killing either the multiverse or himself. When he couldn’t take it anymore, he’d walk to the river in the forest.

The sound of running water was louder than his thoughts in the silence of the universe. He walked along it with his hands in his pockets and would imagine the castle.

Who accompanied him changed each day. Killer smiled but often made jokes at his expense or that of the dead. Dust’s hallucination acted as his own, egging him on to find more to kill. Horror’s mentioned the feast lying around, endlessly held edible by the lack of passing time.

Error only visited once, his silence drowning out the brook. Nightmare left early and didn’t finish a single grave.

On a particularly productive day (he’d gotten through five), Dream accompanied him, and that’s when he remembered something from long ago. His voice complained, but he still knew the words.

The old folk song travelled across the world. The villagers had taught them at first, but Nightmare had sung Dream to sleep so much, he looked into so many more songs. He serenaded his phantom Dream from his small walk and slept peacefully for a single night.

The next day, his voice acted on its own.

He hummed while digging. He sang to the dead as he moved them, as an eulogy after their entombment, and went back to humming when he filled them and moved to the next. The silence of the world invited many demons, the lilt of a song brought back warmth of the past he’d long since lost. He remembered telling the others he didn’t sing; whether it was a lie or he truly forgot, he didn’t know.

The amount of graves was starting to stretch out far from the tree stump. He’d been at this for months, and now, the dead left numbered in double digits.

As he reached the last thirty, he leaned back onto the tall stump and realized nothing had blocked him. His unused tentacles had unformed, not needed and no longer reflex. Night breathed a sigh of relief up at the steady sky. Maybe he had a chance after all.

That night, when he considered the apple, he managed to put it up to his mouth. Not bite into, but it was progress, like so much else.

The second to last day ended as usual at first. He’d begun to sing songs he’d heard in other universes, voice strong from use. His hands had gotten so much better at holding the metal handle. His arms had regained strength, and bit by bit, the color was finally starting to leak back into the sky. This universe was healing. It had waited for him to return.

He only had one grave left. The village elder, the first to fall, the leader of the attacks against him. Night had never known his name besides Elder.

His vengeance should’ve started and ended with him.

No, that wasn’t the way to think anymore. Night had become what they feared, even if it was at their insistence, and a restless afterlife and the death of all his kin falling on him was punishment enough. He dug into the earth, humming the village tune, when the phantom heckled from behind.

“How dare you sing our song when you forsook us, monster.” Nightmare didn’t rise to the bait. He was not so lost as to not know reality from his own manifestations of guilt.

“Your brother was always the better one. I bet you killed him too.” Purposefully wrong, trying to pull him into this argument, he kept digging. Nightmare knew better than he did then. Young Nightmare had risen to many challenges he needn't be bothered with, but age brings wisdom, his past self having no ability to act out of the script he’d been forced to follow. He finished the grave with a wipe of his forehead.

“What do you think this does? Do you think this makes up for what you took? Our lives are not returned with this worthless ceremony.”

“Nothing will make up for what I took. I can only hope to be better going forward and to give back all that I am able.” Nightmare moved the body, staring directly at the ground, avoiding the phantom’s glares. “This place can move forward, and maybe then I can begin to.”

“As long as you are a monster, your mind will never leave this place, beast.”

“On that, we agree.” Nightmare bowed to his grave before beginning to fill it, the final task of his penance here. “But it can’t be killed easily.” The elder’s phantom considered him, before speaking carefully.

“Things borne of ourselves are the hardest to kill. We often choose to remove outside influences over those within.” Nightmare was struck with the memory of attending the elder’s many sermons. He had been a teacher as well, often giving lessons to the population for free. “But I can see its vice grip on you has loosened. What have you brought to kill it?”

“Nothing but myself and an apple.”

“Then I pray it is enough.” Nightmare finished the grave, dropping the shovel down for the last time.

“Me too.”

The final headstone set down, he turned towards the tree stump.

Nightmare did nothing in half measures. He’d come prepared to die here if he needed to. So much of the night of the corruption was lost to the sludge, memory melted away by the power, only the spark of his brother’s positivity clear as a direct opposition to his own. But this corruption was magic, and all magic had a counter, an equal and opposite. Much of spellcraft found counters in the reverse, but how does one reverse something as horrifying as that night?

It was crude, but he tried. Night had said goodbye to Dream. He buried the villagers in reverse of the order he’d killed them. Now, he reached into the bag.

One crisp apple. It only took one to be lost.

He took it with trembling hands. It was so easy to raise to his teeth, almost calling for him to bite into the succulent skin. He closed his eye and bit down.

The corruption was acrid in his mouth. It tasted of the poison it was, but its darker temptation of power had made him bite into it again, and again, and again, until nothing remained. Anything to stop the judgement, the finger pointing, the thrown rocks, never having a place except by Dream’s side, and Dream had so many places he could fit effortlessly.

His eye flicked up to his brother, standing just under the tree, full of now blackened apples, his mouth full of the sludge he’d become, a pang of sadness at the horror on Dream’s face.

“Remember me as I was.” Then he’d grabbed the second. By the sixth, the tentacles had come alive on his back, ready to maim that which came to attack, but when he turned around, he was back in the dead world alone. His mind still pulsed with the event as if he’d lived it only a moment ago, and he couldn’t waste this opportunity.

“RAHHHHHH!” His vision blurred on the grass, tentacles furious digging a hole where no bodies lay. His body felt full, stuffed with corruption like a balloon, singeing his nerves from everything that ran black, pouring from his face directly into the hole that now was the right size. With a moment of clarity, he shoved his fingers down his throat.

He wretched endlessly, thick black corruption pouring out of him in heaves, unable to catch his breath while it left his body. It pooled and filled the hole. So much corruption, in such excess of all the magic in Nightmare’s body, his arms shook trying to hold him up. His soul burned raw, so much being torn from his entire being that it threatened to destabilize. He collapsed on his side, still spewing the poison until he passed out, unable to continue.

He came to gasping. His hands leapt to his throat instantly to soothe the burn. It stung, but looking forward, there was no liquid in the hole he’d collapsed beside, though what was inside was worse.

One black apple, unassuming in the otherwise empty hole. Night almost didn’t touch it.

When he reached for it, his eyes caught his hand. Pure ivory, matching the ivory arm, visible with both of his eyes.

He was free.

That aided his hand. He grabbed the apple, unafraid. Nightmare would not make the same mistake twice.

A glance around revealed more color than he’d remember seeing in ages. Flecks of green among the grass, the sky bright with a sun he hadn’t seen in eons, and a breeze of wind from time returning after so long gone. The world freed from stone could move forward, and now so could he.

His first order of business was clothes, his own ruined many times over by now. His corruption had held the poor things together, but sleeping on rocks hadn’t been kind to the soft hoodie.

Picking through the village felt less somber now. These items would wear away with time, and he could use them. He grabbed some boots, loose pants, a purple tunic, and a worn leather bag to wear over his shoulder. Inside, a few provisions, the black apple, and a few books for his collection amongst the village, he had refused to set foot here before now.

Where to go now? He was free from his corruption, but not from himself. Nightmare himself was still an entire project he’d have to work at.

Though with his corruption lifted, it felt invigorating to have a fate of his own again.

First order of business was probably Dream. He’d left him alone for a long time, though the strange flow of time had made him lose track of exactly how much. He pulled on his magic to generate a portal.

“Fuck!” He’d reset himself back to the start. Of course he had little to work with. He’d have to ask Dream for a lift home when he got there. After a quick straightening of his back, he stepped through to wherever Dream was. He’d pulled on their connection to form the portal instead of picking a place. He walked down some sort of hallway he didn’t recognize, reaching the end of it to turn towards the noise.

Lots of eyes on him, he’d walked into a party. Probably Blue’s based on the amount and varying universes of the guests. He waved awkwardly.

“Um, hi.” He heard something shatter.

“Nightmare?” From the crowd, his brother squeezed out, bolting straight for him. Nightmare held his arms open and braced for impact.

“Yes Dream.” He managed to stay standing at his brother’s hug, but only just. He squeezed him hard enough to crack his back. “Be careful, you’re the more powerful one now.”

“I don’t care about that!” He clung to him and sobbed openly, which was really soaking up Night’s tunic, but he owed him this, rubbing his back through the tears. “I was so w-worrieeeeeed!”

“Well now you can stop worrying.” Nightmare chuckled at his over emotional brother. Then he felt the hand on his back.

“Is that really you boss?” Horror’s deep baritone reverberated down through his hand, shaking Night’s more fragile form. He mentally forgave Dream’s reaction when he turned to look at him. His hand rose to rest on Horror’s cheek, tracing under his chin to get a good look at him as he used to. His own eyes watered for the first time in decades.

“You look so well Horror. I’m...so happy...to see you.” He cried through it, holding him tight to feel the now sturdy bones underneath. He missed his boys so much. He didn’t even flinch at the sudden touch to his back, hearing Dust’s soft murmurs.

“We’re happy to see you too Nightmare.”

His soul, full of this feeling of reunion and relief, let loose tension it no longer had to hold. The future held much trial and tribulation, but it held equal amounts of moments like this, bonding and joy over simple celebrations.

Nothing but his own future.

#nightmare sans #story time #dreamtale #I decided to do a nightmare centric piece because I am a nepotist

68 notes · View notes

jabbajambler · 3 years

Text

Powerless

The Mandalorian/Din Djarin x f!OC

Word Count: 2,090

*GIF by @babyyodastuff*

The bar was vacant except for a few tipsy aliens. Their words slurred together as they spoke and slung their arms around one another. They started to sing some sort of song, but the lyrics were soon lost in the puddle of sounds. It was then nothing more than a hum that drifted in the air.

Honestly, any sound would've been better than this conversation. Every look in that cruel woman's green eyes made me want to spring across the table with my saber. I was sure Din wouldn't complain too much.

"Trask is a black market port," Bo Katan leaned against the table with a determined look in her eyes. There was something lying beneath that stare, something she wanted. "They're staging weapons that have been bought and sold with the plunders of our planet. We're seizing those weapons and using them to retake our home world."

I laughed, choking on my drink as I tried to hold it in. Mandalore? Was she serious? That planet was a wasteland and it was partially her fault. I could feel her cold glare on me before she continued.

"Once we've done that," her voice was darker now, "we'll seat a new Mandalore on the throne."

"That planet is cursed," Din spoke with ease as I struggled to hold back my grin. "Anyone who goes there dies. Once the Empire knew they couldn't control it, they made sure no one else could either."

I shrugged, "with the Empire gone, who knows, but that planet is a wasteland."

Bo Katan's hungry green eyes focused on mine. "And who exactly are you?"

My throat felt dry at her mocking question. She held a slight grin on her face as she tilted her head to the side, batting her eyes as though there were no hints of resentment. I still tried to hold my head high despite the feeling of her staring down at me. "I am Myrah Koor," I said, my stomach dropping slightly as I said it, "adopted daughter of Aaryn Skywalker and Obi Wan Kenobi. I suspect you remember them, don't you?"

"I do. You don't like me," she rolled her eyes and placed her hands beneath her chin, "why? From what I remember, I helped your family."

"You betrayed my family," I snapped as the overwhelming anger started to swell in my chest. "You're a cheat and a liar and-"

Bo Katan scoffed, "don't believe everything you hear." She shrugged me off and turned back to Din whose momentary focus was on me. I could see how my face flushed red and warm in the reflection of his visor.

"Our enemies want to separate us," her gaze drifted over to me quickly, "but Mandalorians are stronger together"

I struggled to hold in my fury as the heat consumed my body. I swore one more sly comment and she would have wished she wore the helmet all the time. The gentle brush of leather against my hand distracted me, pulling me from my rage-filled thoughts. Din's hand was quick to pull away from mine before the others had questioned it.

As if we weren't already as dramatic as possible on the boat. Surely they weren't that naive.

"That's not part of my plan," Din answered Bo quickly as he turned his gaze to the child who watched the exchange curiously. "I've been quested to return this Child to the Jedi."

Her eyes flickered between me and the child. "And she wasn't good enough?" she hummed, "what do you know of the Jedi?"

"Nothing. I was hoping you would help me by Creed."

Her lips lifted into a small, smug smile as she looked between her other Mandalorian friends, "I can lead you to one of their kind," she spoke quietly, "but first, we need your help on a mission?"

I scoffed, "what sort of mission do we need to help you with? You three seem to be perfectly capable on your own.'

"We usually are," she snapped before taking a deep breath and straightening in her seat, "but this is more intense than what we usually deal with on Trask."

"Let me guess," I leaned forward in my seat with my arms folded on the table, "imperials? I'm shocked you don't feel like betraying the galaxy and go side with them. After all, isn't that what you're good at?"

Koska, her brunette friend, had to hold her back from lunging at me across the table. Even the slight squeeze on my arm told me to settle down. If I went any further, I was sure to have a knife in my chest or her hands wrapped around my neck until I blacked out. I certainly wasn't going to die at her hands.

"Yes," Koska finished for Bo Katan as she and their other friend tried to calm her down, "they're imperial and highly guarded. We will provide more details at sunrise. Should we meet here?"

Din quickly shook his head, "meet at the west docks. We'll rendezvous there in the morning."

"Right, well," she huffed, "you should probably get going."

The hand on my arm lifted me from my seat before I could fit in another snarky remark. I couldn't even shout anything on my way out because we were out in a flash. I almost thought Din forgot the kid with the way he tugged me out of the building.

"What were you thinking?" he snapped once we reached the cool, night air.

I shrugged, "I was thinking that she was a traitor to her family and mine. Listen, she carries a long history with her, one that I'm not too fond of. Let's leave it at that."

"Fine."

The docks were so empty at night. Or was it morning? It felt like we had accompanied Clan Kryze for ages. Each stare was full of threats, maybe even promises, of destruction. Bo Katan knew the weight of her words and how they would carry with Din. She knew that the child was everything to us and if she could use us to her benefit, she would.

It wasn't like it would cause her any grief. She'd done it many times before. To her, people who suffered from strong emotions were simply pawns in her game. As though we deserved to suffer from loving something so much.

The child, I mean.

My family must be under some sort of Kryze-Curse where we are forced to do their bidding. I wish I could break it. I would like to be the last sort-of-Kenobi to suffer by their hands.

The air smelled like fish. Dead fish. It was absolutely horrid yet the child couldn't get enough. He smiled sleepily as he breathed in the air. The moon lit up the dark sky and reflected across the vast ocean. The light rippled across the waves so perfectly, I almost thought it was a dream.

As we journeyed towards the Razor Crest, the wood creaked. Every single step was followed by a small sound of it bending beneath our boots.

Step.

Creak.

Step

Creak.

The monotonous sound was followed by the slight splash of the waves against the wood. It felt like the dock was moving with the water. Honestly, it probably was. Who knew how far down the posts went and the planet was almost entirely ocean. It wasn't such a far-fetched idea.

We no longer had to await the painfully slow door of the Razor Crest thanks to the gaping hole that took its place. In some ways, it was nice. Still, a part of me worried about being robbed in our sleep. That is, if we had any valuables left.

"We could get a motel room if you want," Din's gentle voice floated through the air. He sounded shy, almost ashamed of the state the ship was in.

"No," I gave him a weary smile, "we'll just be careful. There may be more weird aliens out to kill us."

He breathed out a huff of air, a quiet laugh if you could even call it that, and shook his head. "Right. As if you can't handle that."

"If I can't, I know I have you right beside me," I held the child close to my chest as I sat on the edge of the cot. At least one thing was still intact. My eyes drifted to the small hammock above me as the child reached for it. His brown eyes were wide and his lips trembled as he struggled to grab it. I breathed out a soft chuckle and lifted him into it, pulling a small blanket over his body.

He couldn't speak, I knew that. Or, at least he hadn't done so yet, but I felt gratefulness swarm my mind as though he was communicating subconsciously.

"Go ahead and sleep," Din cut through the child and I's silent moment, "I'll keep watch."

Of course, ever the gentleman. Or he still didn't trust me. I assumed it was the latter, but I wouldn't say anything. I didn't need to incite another argument, let alone bring up any questions about what happened today. Sure, he knew my history as a force-user but I didn't need any more questions. As far as he knew, I could move things with my mind, heal people, and had a 'laser sword.' That was enough for now.

"Alright," I agreed with a friendly smile, "but I expect you to wake me up as soon as you're tired-" he started to speak before I started up again, "and you're taking the cot as soon as it's my turn. You can't get out of this one either. I'm not letting you sleep on the floor or in your chair."

Din stood silent for a moment. His brain was undoubtedly searching for some excuse to avoid a somewhat decent night's sleep. Eventually, his head fell down with the chin of his helmet resting against his chest plate. A long, exhausted sigh escaped him, followed by a quiet, reluctant, "fine."

"Wait, really?" My eyes grew wide as his simple agreement. He was never one to easily follow anything unless it was his idea, especially so quickly. I felt a short laugh bubble out of my chest, "have I finally tamed the wild Mandalorian?"

"Stop," he grumbled.

I held back my laughs as I stood up and circled him, "next up, we see a rogue Mandalorian, broken away from his pack. At first, he seems untamable. He's unable to be captured, but then! A Jedi? She's caught him, fed him, shown him all the true joys in life! Now, he has no choice but to become a domesticated Mandalorian, politely obeying every word the Jedi says-"

His hand closed over my mouth, his other arm wrapped around my back to pull me near. "Not another word," he spoke quietly.

"Apparently not as well trained as I thought. Maybe we need to teach him some manners," I winked and pushed his hand away from my mouth. My nose scrunched up in disgust, "and how to clean his clothes. Those smell rotten."

"Well, I did fall in the ocean," he stated simply and pulled his arms back to his side.

I snickered and sat back in the cot, pushing myself towards the back wall, "it's a good thing someone was there to save you, then. Must've been some beautiful, strong woman, right?"

"Yeah," his voice came out breathy, but quickly went back into his regular, stiff tone, "too bad she's annoying."

My jaw fell slightly, leaving my mouth gaping as I stared at him. A joke? A funny one too. I laughed and fell back in the bed. My head hit the thin pillow, bouncing slightly against the mattress. "Whatever," I rolled my eyes with a wide smile on my face, "just make sure you wake me up, okay?"

I could hear a small hum in agreement as I shut my eyes. For the first week in Coruscant I was terrified to fall asleep. New places used to always scare me and I never showed my face before I was alongside Din. Now, I was safe. Everywhere I go, I know there is someone to protect me.

Instead of succumbing to the aching pains of sleep like I used to, I drifted off easily with a smile on my face. I knew, no matter what happened between us, he wouldn't let anything get to me.

taglist:

@emiijemii

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x oc #Mandalorian #mandalorian x oc #din djarin #din djarin x oc #dyn jarren #jedi #OC #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal characters #babyyoda #grogu

6 notes · View notes

darkdevasofdestruction · 4 years

Text

Sugar Plum Fairy - Spencer Reid

“Okay, carefully put the body on the table...Yeah, that’s perfect. Okay, thank you for your work.” I smiled briefly at the policeman. “I don’t know the details, but I heard this one is top priority. Can you finish it today?” he asked, making me grin even wider. “Of course! My colleagues were very diligent, so today I have only this one left. Even better, I’m all alone here, so my efficiency will sky-rocket.” I explain, getting a quick look at the cadaver on the table. “Very well, we will go now. Take care.” the other policeman nodded his head at me, before they both left the room, and now I was alone in the whole building. “Yes, finally!” I fist-pumped the air. “Time to listen to AC/DC and cut this bitch up.” I rubbed my hands together, putting the music at max volume around the lab, no longer having to listen to music with my headphones on.

The Y-Incision went by with no problem, then the removal and weighting of the organs was just as smooth, and now I started searching the stomach contents, when the phone started ringing in my lab coat.

“Cutiepie is calling. Do you want to take this call, or hang up?” my phone robot asked. “Answer the call.” I vocally activated it and carefully put the gaming headphones on, seeing as they have a microphone attached, so I could speak while also working. “Uhm...Can you turn down the music, please?” Spencer asked softly, making me chuckle. “Oh, yes, sorry about that, I forgot about it...There, all good. So how is my lovey dovey Sugar Plum Fairy doing?” I asked in a sweet voice, which only earned silence on his end, and some giggles and teasing from the background, making me drop my scalpel in shock. “Y-You’re...On speaker...” Spencer managed to say, and I could already imagine his flustered face. “...Oh my God, Spencer, I’m so sorry...You called me from your private number, I didn’t think you’d call me from work...I’m so so so sorry, Spencer!” I spoke frantically, only to hear a tired sigh. “It’s...It’s fine...You’re right, I called you from the wrong phone, it’s my fault. Anyway, I called because that body that was brought over to your work place is a key piece of our latest case. Can you tell me anything out of the ordinary so far?” he asked in a more formal voice. “...Sometimes it’s weirdly difficult not to call you some cutesy nickname, Spence. I’m at the 3rd stage of the autopsy, and the only out of the ordinary thing is how hilarious her tits are hanging to the side...Uhm...Pretend you didn’t hear that...” I facepalmed internally, realising how stupid I was. “Should I call in an hour or so?” he tried to spare both of us the embarrassment, before I gasped in realisation. “No, wait, hold up a second, I think I’m on to something...On her waist, she seems to have an epidermis tattoo...But the thing is...This epidermis tattoo is a shade different from her actual skin colour. I don’t know who did this, but they traced the actual tattoo perfectly, which means I can easily trace it on a paper and send you a picture, maybe it will help you.” I explained, taking off my gloves and started drawing the tattoo on the paper, quickly taking a picture of it and sending it to Spencer. “I tend to forget how smooth and nicely you can draw. This is spot on, I’m sure Garcia can find out about this. Thank you, Y/N, you’re the best.” his voice was sweeter than sugar, and I could already feel my cheeks burning up. “Always happy to help. Do you want to stay on the phone while I look around the stomach contents, or should I call you when I find anything interesting?” I asked, putting a new pair of gloves on. “I...have a few minutes free to hear your voice. Talk to me, I missed you.” he spoke gently, as I opened the stomach. “Well...I missed you too, sweetheart. Wait, I’m not still on speaker, right? I don’t want to embarrass you...Again...” I muttered, biting my lip. “No, darling, it’s okay, nobody’s around, they’re looking for the tattoo.” he explained, making me sigh in relief. “Good, good...I hope we get to spend some quality time soon. Until then, I suppose I’ll have to indulge in my unhealthy obsession with binge-playing video games. Remember my 20 hour speed-run of Diablo 2?” I laughed, taking out a sort of cloth neatly folded from the stomach. “Please don’t do that again. You slept for 16 hours after that.” he sighed in amusement and worry. “Spence...I think I found something...” I muttered, carefully taking the paper and putting it on a different glass dish, where I carefully opened it with the help of tweezers. “What is it?!” he asked quickly, filled with curiosity. “Uhmm...Darling...This looks like an ominous death threat and a meeting arrangement...A-And the same tattoo design is drawn here...I’ve had my fair share of creepy encounters in my life, but this tops it all, I think. She was forced to swallow this paper...That means they knew she was going to be discovered and used for an autopsy...But who is supposed to see this...?” I rant my ideas, while Spencer was silent, and yet, there was a dark atmosphere taking over the both of us. “Spencer...?” I asked in a soft voice, feeling anxious. “I think you should get out of there...Now.” Spencer spoke seriously, but just as he said that, somewhere outside my lab, I could hear a very faint sound. “Spencer...I-I think there’s someone here...And I don’t think they’re nice people. I have nowhere to hide or escape. What should I do?” I asked in a shushed voice, not sure what to do. “Hide the paper back in the stomach and pretend you don’t know anything. We’ll be coming for you shortly...Please, please, please, Y/N, stay safe. I can’t stand the idea of you...I...I can’t even say it. Also...Don’t forget what we talked about before.” his voice was restless as I could hear him talking to his co-workers. “Honey...I’ll put you on mute, just in case something happens. You can hear what’s being spoken, but nobody will hear what you say, so you can discuss with your colleagues.” I explain, biting my lip. “Y/N...I love you. Please be safe.” I heard his worried voice, as sweet as usual, making me smile even despite the fear I harboured in my heart. “I love you too, darling.” I muttered, before muting the phone and putting it in my lab pocket.

I put the headphones around my neck as to not arouse too much suspicion, anxiety surging through my veins, until finally, the door was kicked open, revealing a huge, burly man, smirking down at me...So here I had to start acting.

“U-Uhmm...H-Hello...?” I asked, my voice trembling with fear, not able to look up at him. “Ahh, who’d have thought! Such a lil’ missy taking care of my girlfriend’s dead body! That’s perfect, I wouldn’t have wanted some sleezy ol’ man touching my girlfriend, or...Seeing her tits hanging to the side like that.” he grinned darkly, making me gulp in fear. “So, uhm...Wh-What can I do for you...?” I squeaked like a mouse, not able to look anywhere but down. “You could start by continuing the autopsy. I’m sure you’ll find something rather interesting that would be valuable for me.” he smirked, going to lean on a desk, motioning for me to continue my work. “O-Okay...” I nodded vigurously as I hurried to do my job.

Just then, his phone rang and speaking to it, I had to strain my hearing to try to pick up and understand what the person on the other end was saying, and thankfully enough, I could understand what they wanted to do:

Find the paper and kill the witness.

I started breathing heavily, biting my lip, feeling how my heart was going into tachycardia as I started having a flashback to a conversation I had with Spencer over a year ago, just a few months after we got together.

-----

“Honey, it’s going to be okay! You did nothing wrong! You did everything you could to survive and make sure the mission is a success. Please don’t blame yourself.” I hugged him tightly, stroking his hair to sooth him. “But Y/N...I killed someone. I did. With my own hands. I pulled the trigger. I robbed someone of their life...” he sighed, closing his eyes. “You killed someone who robbed so many others of their lives! He was a criminal, he would have tortured and killed again! Better dead than a fugitive! And think of the victims’ families, you gave them a certain kind of closure by catching the culprit!” I reassured him, kissing his forehead softly. “...You want to say something more, don’t you? Why are you holding back?” he asked, raising his gaze to look at me. “I...It’s...It’s selfish. You shouldn’t hear it now.” I looked down, biting my lip in shame. “Please tell me, Y/N. I want to know what’s on your heart. I want to know you.” he put his hands on my face as if I was the one needing reassurance. “Spencer...If anything...I-I want you to live...For me...No matter what happens out there, I don’t want to lose you. I know it’s dangerous out there, but...But...I don’t want the only person I’ve ever loved in my life to be taken away from me. I-I don’t know what I’d do...” I bit my lip harder, trying not to imagine such a fatalist scenario. “I understand...I feel the same way, Y/N. So why don’t we promise each other something? That way, you won’t have to be afraid of being selfish. We’ll both be selfish.” I could see the glint of mischief in his eyes. “What is it...?” I asked in a shushed voice, as he pulled me to his chest. “If anything happens, you have to live. If I promise to kill in self-defense, so should you. I don’t want to lose you either, but with the work I’m doing, no matter how private I am, I’m afraid that someone might come after you. So if anything happens...You know what to do. I know you swore a vow to never harm a living person, but that is thrown out of the window once that person tries to kill you. What do you say?” he spoke seriously, as I’ve never seen him before - He was still afraid, desperate. “Is that...Really...Okay? I’m not in the law enforcement...I don’t want to go to jail...” my bottom lip trembled in slight fear. “Self-defense will never get behind bars. Trust me, I know the laws inside out better than I know my own house.” he explained with a soft smile. “Okay...Okay, Spencer...We’ll be okay. We have to be.” I nodded, putting my forehead to his, staying like that for a while as we both tried to calm down.

-----

“Didja find anythin’, girly?” the man asked in a rough, aggressive voice, and I suddenly got an idea on how to escape. “Y-Yes, I found this paper, but it’s bloody and I have to clean it up to see if there’s anything on it. It won’t take too long, I promise.” I explained, showing him the paper with my tweezers, and he only nodded, watching me like a hawk.

I put a few water droplets with the pipette after neatly stretching the paper on a glass plate, putting it under the microscope and trying to catch the right angle where the ink would be rather stained from the blood and water I messed it up with.

“Uhm...There’s something written on it, but I can’t quite understand the writing. Normally, I’d take a picture and send it to the police where they have people special for that, but I’m pretty sure you don’t want that. Maybe you can understand the writing style?” I explain, stepping away from the microscope and motioning for him to step in. “Can’t even read some words...” he grumbled in anger as he bent down, looking around with the microscope, visibly frowning. “That’s such a messy writing...What the hell did he do with that hand of his...?” he groaned, as I slowly took out the scalpel from my lab coat. “Who knows...?” I ushered, plunging the scalpel in his carotid artery, hearing him scream bloody murder, as I screwed the blade around, doing more damage, his blood gushing away like a fountain. “Wh-What.......?” was the last thing he could stutter as he fell down on the ground and it took everything I had not to stand there and stare at what I had just done.

I have to save myself, not stare at life slipping out of him. I carefully changed the scalpel blade and put a knife in his hand, before leaving the room, only to be met by 2 goonies who were definitely of his gang.

“H-Hey, are you with that guy?! He just injured himself! I can’t save him by myself, you have to help me!” I cried out in desperation, praying they will be fooled by my act. “Ehhhh?! That idiot got himself injured? Let’s go check it out.” the one of the left patted the one on the right on the shoulder, before going to check it out. “It’s serious, we have to do something!” I said as I slowly took out the keys from my lab coat and locked them there, as they were too busy checking his body. “YOU BLOODY WHORE, WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?!” they roared, as I ran out of there, to the elevator, continuing to lock all doors behind me, as I unmuted Spencer. “In 2 minutes I’ll be outside. Where are you?” I asked, panting, trying to keep myself down. “We’re almost there, don’t worry. As soon as you leave the building, go down the street to your left. We’re getting out of the car and walking towards you, so we won’t attract too much attention to you.” he explained, and I could only nod, barely remembering he can’t actually see it. “Don’t know how I won’t attract attention when I have blood all over me.” I mumbled, stepping out into the open. “Did he...?” he trailed on, not wanting to say it out loud. “Yeah...He’s dead. And I locked the 2 other goonies inside. I just hope there’s no one else.” I took a deep breath, rushing down the street, and thankfully enough, I could see a 2 people coming my way, one of them being my beautiful chestnut haired boyfriend.

Unfortunately, just as I thought everything was okay, I feel myself being grabbed from behind in a choke hold, something cold pressed to my temple -

It was a gun.

As tears started welling up in my eyes and I could barely stop myself from shedding them, I could see Hotch extending his arm in front of Spencer, so he wouldn’t do anything stupid and that he’ll handle it.

All I could do was look at Spencer while my sight remained blurry and my body was trembling like a leaf - I had no idea what to do, how to react, all I knew was that I was afraid and I had a scalpel in my pocket.

As Hotch tried to negotiate with the criminal, the man got pissed off, pushing me behind him as he started trashing his gun arm left and right.

That’s when I knew I had to act. I couldn’t have anyone accidentally or intentionally hurting my Spencer...

I threw my arms over his gun one from the side, pulling it backwards, away from the 2, one hand over the gun, while the other stabbed the man’s inner wrist, easily destroying the veins.

Thankfully, this gave Hotch the opportunity to shoot the man before he could do anything bad, and not before long...The enemy fell to the ground with an empty expression.

I quickly kicked the gun away, crouching down to make sure he’s really dead, and when I confirmed it, I got up, shakily stepping backwards, the scalpel falling from my hands as I tried to get myself back together.

“It’s over now, sweetheart. It’s over. You’re here, with me, nobody will hurt you again.” I felt Spencer hug me tightly, and the warmth and emotions behind it made me start crying from the shock, panic and fear that I felt. “I-I was so scared...” I managed to stammer over my words, as my lovely boyfriend put his hands on my face, tilting it up so I could see him, my eyes staring into his. “I know, darling, I know. We can go back home now, it’s okay.” he tried to reassure me, but Hotch came over. “Before you go home, I need you to tell us what you know from the autopsy. I’m sorry to stress you out after going through such a traumatic experience, but we need to catch the criminals.” the man said, and seeing Spencer frowning in protest, I sighed, resting my head on his shoulder. “It’s okay, I understand. Let’s go. I’ll be okay.” I managed to mutter.

Spencer put his arm around me, kissing my temple as we went to his workplace, and sure, seeing his colleagues all at once was rather overwhelming, but my sweetheart easily handled everything and put a blanket over my shoulder, pulling me to his chest to calm me down, while I explained everything in detail.

While everyone was working on the case, two blonde girls that I found out were Penelope and J.J. and they were sweet enough to try to calm me down by chatting with me.

“So how did you and Spencer meet? You look so cute together!” Penelope asked, grinning from ear to ear. “A while ago, at a cafe. There were no empty seats and the waitress asked me if he could stay there, as he’s a regular, so of course, I said why not.” I smiled softly, holding his hand, our finger intertwining. “She was reading Lord Of The Rings, when she got a phone call from her boss and she got out her case files from the morgue and started explaining all the details.” he stroked my hair soothingly. “And then you took a look at the pictures and randomly started giving your theories and we managed to solve the case together.” I chuckled weakly, my smile growing wider. “Awwwwww, that’s so cute!!” she chirped. “When is the marriage?! Can I be a bridesmaid?!” she continued, making the both of us blush and hide our faces in embarrassment. “Garcia, be gentle with them! They’re soft!” J.J. grinned, nudging her with her elbow. “Who’d have thought that Genius Boy is such a Lover Boy? Sugar Plum Fairy~! And what’s her nickname? Now I’m curious!” Garcia leaned closer to us. “...Sleeping Beauty...I like to sleep...A lot...” I muttered, feeling my cheeks warmer than before. “And you like to be woken up with a kiss~?” she continued to tease us. “..........Yes.” I managed to whisper, hiding my face in the blanket. “When will I find someone as sweet as Lover Boy?! You’re just SO cute together!” she hyped us up, and we could only sigh and look at each other with a smile. “Okay, okay, we’ve done our job, let’s give them some privacy. We’ll come back to tell you when you can go home. Oh, by the way, Spencer...I’m pretty sure I heard them talk about giving you a week off or something. You’ve worked hard for us, you deserve it, especially now after everything you’ve been through.” J.J. smiled down at us, putting her arm around Garcia, guiding her fangirling self out of the office. “Well, hear that, I have vacation. Where do you want to go?” he kissed my lips gently, looking at me with a tender look. “We’ll think of something. The seaside, the mountains...We have time for everything.” I grinned softly, cuddling closer to him. “I love you, Spencer.” “Yeah, we have all the time in the world. I’m so glad you’re safe...I’m sorry you had to go through all that, but I’m so glad nothing happened to you. I love you so much, my Sleeping Beauty.” he kissed me once again, just as sweetly as before. “I would never leave my Sugar Plum Fairy alone.” I gazed at him lovingly, before settling for a comfortable silence, waiting to go home.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #penelope garcia #J.J.#aaron hotchner #BAU #FBI

258 notes · View notes

verai-marcel · 4 years

Text

Better Than a Dream (RDR2 Fanfic, Arthur x Fem!Reader, 18+)

Summary: It's 1895. You've been with the Van der Linde gang for 12 years, about the same time as John. Arthur has been your most trusted friend all this time, and you've watched him pursue other women while suppressing your own feelings, complicated by his alpha scent and your omega heats. Will you ever confess to Arthur that your love is true and comes from the heart?

Author’s Notes: A gift for my dear @jezzeee, you gave me so much backstory and answered all my questions, thanks for your cooperation!

Tags: A/B/O dynamics with my own twist, high honor Arthur, fast forward slow burn, pre-rdr2, smut, rough sex, biting, marking, doggy style (heh)

Word Count: 4164

AO3 Link is over here, darlin’.

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

You didn't dream often. When you did, it was always of the past.

Tonight, the dream started the same. Your pa, lying on the ground, blood everywhere. You, fleeing town after running home and grabbing what you could, knowing that your pa's killers wouldn't show you any mercy.

Months of working as a hired gun, another body, another dollar. Too many close calls to count. You should've been dead.

Then you ran into Hosea, who saw your skills, and offered you a home.

Dutch van der Linde was a charismatic man, leading a small gang in the pursuit of freedom and riches. At first it was just Hosea, Dutch, Arthur, and John, another new kid. Soon after, Susan & Tilly joined. People came, left, died, or were killed, but the core group became your new family.

You were a frustrated and scared fifteen year old trying to survive in a brutal world. After getting to know everyone, you relaxed, and began to trust.

But when you presented as an omega two years after joining the gang, you panicked; would everyone treat you differently? Would you be kicked out for being a liability, a weakness?

You need not have worried. The moment you went into your first heat, and for every time afterwards, Susan became a tigress, whisking you away to a cabin or safe house somewhere and taking care of you until it was over, making sure no alpha would dare to come near you. She comforted you, told you that no one would drive you away, that you were family.

When she and you returned to camp after three days, everyone still treated you the same; that was the true sign of a good family. Sure, they kept an eye on you to make sure you were never alone when your heat approached, but for the most part, they trusted you to take care of yourself. You had proven yourself time and time again to be capable, resourceful, and resilient.

Over the years, the core group became the most important people in your life; you’d do anything for the gang.

But it was Arthur who earned your trust the most. Capable, calm, and reliable, he was your first choice if you needed a partner on a job.

He was twenty when you first met him. At first he kept you at arm's length, treating you like the obnoxious kid sister he never wanted while he ran off courting Mary. As that relationship fell apart, he found himself coming to talk to you about his thoughts, his troubles. You always listened and gave him perspective without judgement, and he grew to appreciate your straightforward analysis.

You noticed he always fled when your heats came, as if he couldn’t stand the sight of you when you were weak and needy. As the years passed and you grew older, you downplayed any injury, any emotional weakness, trying to be stronger, strong enough to be accepted by Arthur. As your trust in him became love, you realized that he’d never love you back, not the way you wanted him to. He loved you, sure, but it was clearly as family.

You watched as Mary broke his heart. You watched as he met Eliza, had Isaac, and had his heart torn out when he lost them both.

Nowadays, there was a wall around him; he still cared, but he didn’t show it as much as he used to. Behind a sardonic smile and biting remarks, Arthur was growing bitter, even though he was still playful at times, if you could cheer him up enough.

Usually the last thing you saw in your dreams was Arthur walking away from you, and as you ran to chase him, you'd wake up, your blankets tangled around your legs.

But not this time. This time, when you called out his name, he turned to you. His smile lit up his face, and he held his arms out to you, saying your name softly, like a lover's caress. You leapt into his arms…

And promptly rolled off your bed.

You sat up, shook the cobwebs out of your mind, and slowly got up.

"You alright in there?" Arthur's muffled voice floated through the door.

"I'm fine."

"Can I come in?"

"Sure."

Arthur opened the adjoining door between your rooms at the hotel, only to immediately turn his back on you.

"Jesus, warn me if yer just in your sleepin' clothes."

You shrugged. "You've seen me in this growing up, what difference does it make now?"

Arthur waved his hand dismissively at you. "Yer all…" He gestured wildly. "Jus’ put yerself back together, then we'll talk."

He scurried back through the connecting door and shut it softly.

You were a bit stunned at his hasty exit. Back at camp, he didn't give two shits what you had on, he'd wake you up by tossing your satchel at you so you'd get ready faster.

Finally you glanced down at your cap sleeve nightgown and noticed one of your sleeves had slipped off your shoulder and down your arm, and the gown had hiked up to your thighs, revealing more of your skin than normal. Sighing, you worked on getting up and throwing on your shirt and work pants. You tried to ignore the heat blooming in your cheeks. How much did Arthur see? Did he peek at the swell of your cleavage while it was exposed? Did his gaze linger on your bare legs?

God, you wanted him to lust after you. Then the pining you felt wouldn't be so one sided. And it wasn't just a physical attraction; that had come later, after you had grown to trust Arthur unconditionally. He had helped you out so many times without saying a word, and you always repaid the favor. You didn't take him for granted, like a lot of other folk in the gang, and you always made sure he knew how much you appreciated him.

Which is why, for this simple train job, you opted to take Arthur. John offered to come with as back-up, but you knew it was because he wanted a piece of the take.

When you were finally dressed and ready to go, you knocked on the adjoining door.

“C’mon in.”

You let yourself into his room, where he was sitting on the bed, putting his journal away into his satchel.

“You ready?”

“Sure,” you answered, “but I could use some coffee.”

Arthur observed you for a moment. “Same dream?”

You nodded, giving yourself a moment to compose yourself before spitting out a lie. “Yeah, same dream.” You didn’t want to tell him that the ending was different than before.

He raised an eyebrow at you. But after a moment, he let it go. Getting up, he held the door open as you exited the hotel room, leading you outside and back to your horses.

“We’ll make some coffee when we get to the overlook,” Arthur said over his shoulder as he pulled himself up onto his horse.

“Alright,” you said, getting onto your horse and following him out of town.

***

The two of you rode half the day to the top of a cliff that overlooked the tunnel where the train would come from tonight.

“Wondered when the two of you would show up,” came a scratchy voice behind a large boulder.

“Shut up Marston. We’re here, ain’t we?” you shot back.

John laughed. “Full of spit and vinegar, as always. Why’d you hafta bring the old man? We coulda done this on our own.”

You glanced at Arthur before responding. “You know we need him. Hafta make up for your dumb ass.”

Arthur laughed as he walked to John and clapped his shoulder. “You heard the lady. Her job, her rules.”

***

Waiting until nightfall, the three of you made some coffee and shared stories, talking about the old days, when it was only the five of you.

When you heard the train whistle in the far off distance, you got up and stretched.

“Well boys, it’s time we earned our keep.”

The three of you got up on your horses, both of the men turning serious as they followed you to the ambush point. The plan was simple: hop onto the train from a low hanging rock outcropping, rob as many people as possible, and hop off.

As you reached the ambush location, you scouted out a good spot to wait. Taking a deep breath, you got off your horse and crouched to watch the train approach. Jobs like this were always risky, but the rewards were worth it.

And with Arthur at your back, you felt like you could take on the world.

***

“This is a robbery! Put yer valuables in the bag, and no one gets hurt.”

A slight shiver went down your spine as Arthur yelled and growled his way through the passenger car. The way he stalked around, using his size to his advantage, did something to your insides like nothing else.

You were almost at the end of the passenger car, when you heard gunshots and voices outside.

“We’re comin’ for you!”

“Time to leave,” you barked as you took the last necklace from a rich lady and stuffed it into your bag. There was no arguing as the three of you booked it to the exit. Looking outside, you whistled for your horse as you took in the three flat bed cars that you’d need to run through to get to the last train car. Taking a deep breath, you started to run towards the end of the train.

Gunshots rang out near your head as you ran across the flat bed cars, splinters from the crates flying everywhere. Quickly rolling down and hiding behind a pile of bags, you looked over to Arthur and John as you pulled out your cattleman.

They had also hunkered down behind piles of cargo and pulled out their guns. Arthur gripped his rifle as he looked at you.

“We hafta move!” Arthur yelled to you over the gunshots.

“I know, I know!”

Peering over the cargo, you waited for a lull in the gunfire and dashed for the end car. You knew Arthur & John had followed you from the sounds of them running behind you. As the three of you dodged and weaved from cover to cover, you looked back and saw Arthur’s hat get shot off his head.

Without thinking, you turned around. Ignoring Arthur’s shouts of your name, you dove out to grab the hat, rolling through the gun fire to duck behind the nearest crate.

Putting his hat on your head, you took a deep breath. After firing a few cover shots, you quickly weaved back towards the boys, who were firing furiously at the lawmen who were riding next to the train.

You barreled past them, through the last car. Opening the door, you saw your faithful horse, galloping with John & Arthur’s horses.

As Arthur came up behind you, you silently plopped his hat back on his head.

"You coulda-"

"You can thank me later," you said, interrupting Arthur as you took a leap off the end of the train, landing near your horse. The men followed suit, the three of you quickly mounting up and galloping away from the tracks towards the forest.

The sounds of other horses coming up behind you made you feel tired more than scared.

"Split up, meet y'all back at camp," you commanded as you made a hard right turn deeper into the forest.

***

You were pretty sure you had lost the men who had followed you. Hiding in a thicket near an abandoned campsite, you and your horse were resting for a bit before taking the long way back to camp. After about half an hour, it finally seemed safe, and you slowly rode out of the thicket and cantered north towards more open ground.

A rope suddenly came out of nowhere and yanked you off your horse.

"Gaaaah!" you yelped as your butt hit the ground. Instinctively you rolled to your feet, only to be tackled back to the ground by a heavy body.

"Finally caught you, little bitch," the man panted as he got up and turned you over to tie you up. You felt him lean into your neck and breathe in deep.

"An omega… Interesting."

You froze. Betas usually couldn't smell you. Which meant…

The man turned you over into your back and stared down at you, his eyes glowing red.

"You'd get a much better price at a brothel than at the sheriff's." He grinned, his eyes gleaming with lust. "Maybe I'll try you first, make you keen with my cock deep inside-"

The man didn't finish his sentence as he dropped dead, a knife embedded in his neck.

Arthur came out of the shadows, looking furious.

"What the hell were you doin', lettin' someone catch you?"

You felt a rush of relief.

Relief that he came back.

For you.

Looking at all the blood on Arthur's shirt, your eyes followed a path to the gash on his left arm. You met his eyes, a questioning look on your face.

"I'm alright," he answered.

You sighed. "I thought I told you to go back to camp," you said, trying to sound annoyed.

"Like I ever listen to you," he grumbled, walking closer to you. Almost in slow motion, he reached up and stroked your cheek, his eyes scanning you for any injuries. Then his eyes came back up to yours and for a moment, you hoped for something more.

Then the moment passed, and his arm came down once more.

"Best be goin', before more hunters come fer you," he muttered, turning back to get his horse without waiting to see if you'd follow.

He knew you would.

You got back on your horse as he got back on his, the two of you riding back to camp in silence.

**'

Arriving in camp well after Marston, he heckled both of you until you pulled out the bag of valuables and counted the small fortune inside. Dutch and Hosea, proud of your efforts, broke out a case of whiskey and gathered the gang to celebrate your victory.

After a few drinks and singing with everyone, you noticed that Arthur still hadn't dressed his wound. Taking him by the elbow, you pointed at his tent.

"Let's get that cut taken care of," you ordered as you dragged him up and led him to his tent.

***

“You’re a damn idiot.”

“Then you’re a fool for following this damn idiot.”

“Never said I wasn’t!”

Arthur childishly stuck his tongue out at you, and you pinched near the graze on his arm.

“Ow, now why would you do that to an injured man?”

“Because you’re clearly not injured enough if you have energy to stick your tongue out at me,” you shot back.

Arthur looked at you, and you looked at him. After a moment, the two of you burst out laughing. The feeling of irritation was gone; now only a sense of camaraderie and trust remained, as it always did at the end of a job.

But tonight there was still a tension between you two, as you slowly finished wrapping the bandage around Arthur’s arm. His skin was hot, his scent strong. You wanted to curl up into his arms and just let him hold you forever.

You resisted taking a deep breath; taking in his scent like that would only make things worse. You had to get out of the tent.

“Hey.”

You looked up and focused your eyes on Arthur.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his eyes searching yours, worry written on his face.

“I-I’m fine.”

“Yer lyin’.”

“I'm not,” you protested ineffectively. After a look of skepticism from Arthur, you sighed. “How can you tell?”

“By how your eyes dart to the left when yer thinkin’.” He reached up and stroked your lower lip with his thumb. “By how your lips twitch to the right while yer talkin’.” Then Arthur leaned in closer to you, his face unbearably close to yours. “And by how your eyelashes flutter when you finish lyin’ to me.”

You couldn’t stand it any longer. You surged forward and kissed him. He was stock still, his body stiff as a board as you pulled away from him. Looking at his shocked face, you instantly regretted being so bold. In a moment of emotional overload, had you ruined your friendship?

“I’m sorry, I’ll go-” You stammered as you got up to exit the tent.

Arthur’s hand shot out lighting quick. Grabbing your wrist and pulling you back to him, he sat you back down. Leaning in close, he looked at you, his gaze searching you for something.

“Sweetheart,” Arthur breathed. “Every feelin’ behind that kiss. You mean it?”

“Yeah, I do. Every damn feeling.”

He suddenly tugged you into his arms and kissed you like his life depended on it. The dam had burst; the longing and yearning that had consumed you both for years was finally being fulfilled. With each kiss, your hearts grew closer and closer, culminating into this one moment, where you and he could become one, forever more, never to part.

“Arthur, I never… I never thought you’d feel the same for me.”

“I think I have for a long time, just… didn’t want to admit it. I thought you’d think it’d be weird, havin’ me love you like this.”

“We’ve wasted so much time…”

“Let’s make it up, here and now.” He kissed you again, picking you up and laying you on his cot. “We won’t ever be apart, darlin’.”

He kissed you, slowly savoring your sweet surrender as his hands clasped you close to him. Feeling his warmth, his heartbeat, his lips as they trailed down your neck, you felt your body reacting, changing.

"Arthur," you purred, feeling your slick start to drip from you.

Eyes flashing red, Arthur cupped your cheek with his big hand, his thumb caressing your temple. "Yer eyes, they're the most beautiful gold," he murmured.

"I need you," you whispered desperately.

"You have me." He started to take off your clothes, eagerly kissing the revealed skin as you reached for his buttons, helping him to remove whatever you could get your hands on. For each piece of your clothing that came away, you pulled off a piece of his.

You were in just your chemise and drawers, and he in his short drawers, when you felt yourself heating up. Your heart pounded, your vision blurred slightly around the edges.

Arthur sniffed the air, paused for a moment, then his pupils nearly dilated as a deep rumble came from him. He grabbed your drawers and nearly tore them off before grabbing your knees and spreading you open to his hungry look. He looked at you, his eyes glowing an alpha's deep red.

"Darlin'," he rumbled, "is all that fer me?"

You nodded.

He dipped his head down and lapped languidly at your core, sending ribbons of pleasure through your system. His hands reached under your chemise, grabbing at your breasts and squeezing, palming, massaging you. Teasing your nipples with his fingers, he kissed his way up your stomach.

"Let's get this offa you," he said as he helped you sit up and pulled your chemise over your head. Sitting naked before him, his gaze roamed over your body.

"Fer the first time, I truly see you," he said, leaning in and kissing you gently, a reverent touch on your lips. He moved to your cheek, then down your neck, where he took in a deep breath, drowning himself in your pheromones.

Stepping back for a moment, he let his own drawers drop to the ground. Your eyes widened as you saw all of him for a split second before he climbed on top of you, covering you as you lay on his cot, surrounded by his scent.

Arthur returned to your neck, nipping lightly as he ground his body against yours. His attentions grew heated as he began to suck on your skin near your collarbone, hard enough to leave a mark.

Your gasps were followed by his quiet laughter.

"Just a li'l somethin' to remember me by."

You wrapped your arms around him as he grinded against your core with his hard shaft. He kept kissing you, giving you love bites, and burying his face in the crook of your neck as he worked his member between your folds, lubing himself up in your slick.

After a little while, he sat up. Your eyes followed his hand as he reached down to grasp his cock, a look of need on his face. Slowly, he guided himself into you, meeting your eyes as he started to enter, your body accepting his so willingly. Sliding inside, he held his breath as he felt you gripping him, a warm, soft feeling that he never wanted to end.

You took shallow breaths, trying to relax your body to take in his girth. He was thick, filling you up and making you feel so damn good. You wrapped your legs around his and reached out to squeeze his butt. Under your hands, his muscles flexed as he pushed the rest of the way inside of you, his pelvis flush with yours.

"Better than I dreamed," he said, looking at you with a torrent of passion in his eyes. "Like we were made to be together."

Arthur slowly pulled out and pressed his forehead to yours.

"I'm gonna take you now, alright?"

"Yes, please Arthur!"

"That's my girl," he rumbled before he slammed back into you, making you choke back a cry. His thrusts were strong, deep, making sure you were completely filled with each shove of his hips.

"Mine," he growled as he increased his speed, rutting into you so hard that the cot creaked. He no longer cared if everyone could hear; he wanted to make it known that you were his, and if anyone even thought about touching you, they'd suffer for it.

You mewled his name, your heat in full bloom, driving you to sheer ecstasy as you lost your sense of self, drowning in Arthur's possession of your body. Scratching his back as he started to give you love marks all over your chest, you moaned at the feel of his lips and teeth on your skin. The sweet balance of pain and pleasure pushed you into a trance, where all you could focus on was where your bodies met, the possessive crush of him against you.

Arthur growled into your neck, a reverberation you could feel through you as his hips began to grind into yours, putting a glorious pressure on your clit. Arching your back, you wantonly rocked your hips in time with his thrusts. Your breath came out in short puffs, your heart beat a million miles a second, and you could feel the heat rushing through your entire being.

"That's it darlin'," he murmured. "Give me everythin'."

He covered your mouth with his just as you let out a cry of ecstasy, your eyes squeezing shut as your climax swept through you like a thunderstorm, the beat of your blood in your ears, lightning bolts of pleasure coursing through your veins.

And all the while, Arthur had not stopped taking you, pistoning in and out as you writhed under him.

As you became limp, he pulled out of you and rolled you over onto your belly. Lifting up your hips, he entered you from behind, filling you up from a different angle. You let out a low moan, biting his pillow to muffle your volume. Arthur reached down to play with your center, rebuilding your desire, one stroke at a time.

Leaning over you, he kissed the back of your neck. As he made soft hums of approval at your moans and whimpers, he sped up his thrusts. Just as you were reaching yet another peak, you felt his teeth scrape the back of your neck.

"May I..?"

"Yes, do it," you pleaded.

Arthur wasted no time sinking his teeth into your neck as he plowed his cock deep into you, his movements erratic. He made low sounds of satisfaction as he spent himself inside of you, the knot at the base of his shaft growing to lock him to you.

"No place I'd rather be," he mumbled against your hair as he rolled the two of you onto your sides and held you close. “Been dreamin’ of this.”

“For how long?”

“Longer than I care to admit.”

You laughed. “Too long, then.”

He caressed your cheek and smiled wryly. "Didn't realize how much I needed you."

You smiled back. "At least you figured it out."

Arthur let out a soft chuckle. “Better late than never.”

Nodding, you held his hand and brought it up to your lips. Kissing his fingertips tenderly, you held back your tears of joy.

“Yes, better late than never.”

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

End Notes: Tried my hand at A/B/O dynamics, and while it’s a little tame compared to what’s out there, I felt that I needed just enough to accentuate the main story. Hope you all enjoyed it!

#arthur x reader #arthur morgan #writing #fanfic #lemon fanfic #alpha beta omega #rdr2 fanfic #tumblr request #tumblr gift #nsft

184 notes · View notes

shaineybainey · 4 years

Text

“Noble Intentions”

Lab Rats [T]

The Lab Rats and Mighty Med teams face off with the greatest threat to humanity yet: The Incapacitator, a supervillain bent on becoming the most powerful in the planet. …Which makes things super awkward for Leo, considering that their newest nemesis is his father. AU. Lab Rats vs Mighty Med redux.

** DISCLAIMER: SEE CHAPTER ONE FOR DISCLAIMER **

tagging: @clockradio93 @vcnting @verified-dumbass @serpent-princess @weareoutofmaplesyrupdave @aaaaahhhhh1234 @lettersandwhiteroses @breanadaveport-mendel @cecespuffs @quimbionics @hollywoodendinq

[ By the way, if anyone doesn’t like to be tagged anymore, just tell me through a DM. I appreciate the likes, but if the tagging annoys you, I’ll respectfully leave you out on the next one :) ]

TW: disturbing imagery, death of loved ones, panic triggers

V: Late Bloomer

Leo stirs, his whole body entirely too numb. He squints as his eyes sting from the flood of light shining all around him. He waits until the pain ebbs. Soon enough, he can make shapes, spot movements. But nothing is familiar.

Nothing except the overlapping Ms on the wall – one scarlet and one chrome.

“Leo? Leo, are you okay?” a shape – then a couple of shapes – approaches him. “How are you feeling?”

He withdraws from the faceless figure even though he recognizes the voice. “Chase?”

“Yes, Leo, it’s me,” the figure replies, but in Bree’s voice. He (she?) smiles. “You’ve been out a while. We’re glad you’re okay.”

“Where are we?” he asks, still trying to see through the gray haze.

“We’re on Mighty Med. It’s a hospital for superheroes,” says Adam.

“I know that. I know what Mighty Med is,” Leo says. He sits up. He sees a vague outline of a hospital room… How come he still can’t see anyone’s face? It makes his heart thump. “Who are you? Why can’t I see you?”

“The Incapacitator’s energy field must have been too much for you,” Chase replies. At least, it’s his voice.

“It’s going to be okay,” assures Bree. “The doctors said the blindness is temporary. In two days, you’ll be able to get your vision back.”

He searches their faces, still uneasy. The outlines of the shapes look like his siblings. There were four other people, although who they are he doesn’t know.

Suddenly, a worry hits him. “Where’s The Incapacitator?”

Though he doesn’t see their faces, he senses relief. “It’s over, Leo,” says Chase.

“What’s over?”

“Him. We defeated him!”

“What?”

“Yeah! He was holding you hostage,” says the figure that was Chase. Then, in Adam’s voice he adds, “It took us some time, but we figured out how to use his own power against him. Who knew it was that simple?”

“Wait. No, no, wait. I don’t understand.” He shakes his head. “You’re not making any sense. Who are you?”

“He’s dead, Leo. He imploded,” Bree says, a cold smile evident in her voice. “He died, as he should have.”

“No. No, that’s not true!” He tries to leap out of the bed, but the shapes hold him down. “What are you doing? Let go of me!”

“Why?”

Leo looks up quickly. He freezes upon seeing Krane towering over him, half of his body terribly burned just like the last time he saw him. A hole gapes at the place where his right eye should have been.

Krane grins wolfishly, blood on his teeth. “Isn’t this your fault? You should have reported him a long time ago. Maybe he would still be alive if you had.”

“We would still be alive,” S-1 agrees, appearing on the other side of him.

“You’re not quite the hero you think you are,” Krane says, his grip on his arm tightening.

The shapes press in on him, robbing him of breathing space. “No – Stop!” he screams. “Get away from me!”

But they only converge, closer and closer and closer until the shapes merge into a tangible cloud that wraps around him. Soon, the cloud turns into water that he plunges under, and then he can’t breathe.

He screams, but no sound comes out.

He gasps for air—

– Ϟ –

Leo wakes, gasping as if breaking through a surface. He defensively pulls his arm back from the person touching it, scooting away from him.

“Easy, Leo. It’s okay. You’re safe,” Joel says. “I won’t hurt you. It’s just me.”

Leo’s eyes quickly scan the room for danger. He’s in some bedroom, one he’s never seen before, and his father, wearing jeans and an ash gray t-shirt, is the only one there with him.

It all comes rushing back. Tecton, Chase, the energy lasso.

There was also the look of murder in his eyes as he grabbed him.

He retreats farther away from his father, afraid.

Joel chuckles. “Leo, I mean it. You’re—”

Leo flinches away from his touch, his heart calming but his brain still on high alert.

Joel sighs. “Right. I know. I overdid it. I’m sorry.”

“You were going to kill me.”

“I was never going to kill you. I would never. Why would I do that?”

Why would he? Leo doesn’t know. He used to think he understands why his father would do things, but now he doesn’t. “How could you lie to me?” he asks.

“Leo, you know I don’t like you being involved in the things that I do. Especially since you still stubbornly believe that there’s room for you in the superhero world.”

“But I am involved now. You hurt my family when I asked you not to!”

“I didn’t really hurt them! Everyone is still alive when we left.”

“You hurt Chase.”

“Well, the kid was kind of stupid.”

“He was still my brother!”

“Hey.” Joel points a finger at him. “Watch it. I don’t like your tone.”

The warning registers, but it does very little to allay his anger. “How could you do this? How could you hurt a lot of people like that?”

“Come on. It’s not like you don’t know that it’s just part of the job. They got in my way, I move them out.”

“But—”

“Leo, stop. Okay? Stop nagging me about this. It isn’t right,” Joel says patiently. “You know what I am. You know what I do. I understand why you’re mad, but everything I did was for a reason.”

Leo watches him indignantly as he gets up and heads towards a wardrobe. He simmers as he observes him dig through its contents.

It doesn’t make things any better when he comes back with a fresh set of clothes, smiling as if nothing happened.

His father observes him a moment before chuckling. “That must be some dream you had,” he comments. “I’ve never seen you this angry before.”

Leo says nothing and only looks away. He can’t stand his father at the moment.

“Since it seems like you won’t ask, this is the place I’ve been wanting to take you to,” Joel says. “It’s the house where I grew up. Nana’s and Pop’s house.”

Leo stubbornly keeps his mouth shut. Still, he’s moved to examine it closely. “I didn’t know it was still standing,” he mutters begrudgingly.

“Yeah,” Joel says, looking around the room fondly. “RT and I used to share this room, but when I turned 9, Nana moved Uncle RT to her sewing room downstairs.”

It’s fascinating that the childhood room of one of the most powerful supervillains in existence looks…normal. The room itself is small. Leo thinks it’s about the size of one of the sitting rooms in the Mission Creek mansion.

Pressed against the wall to his left is a study desk, a dust-covered stack of books, a decades old lamp, and a Duck Tales pencil holder sitting atop it. Right next to the study desk is the wardrobe. By the door is a shoe rack.

Everything looks so neat and normal that it’s almost disorienting. Sure, it’s obvious that not much had been touched for a long while, but he doubts that anyone would guess the kind of man the kid who used to sleep here would grow up to be.

“So, was I right? Were you having a bad dream?” his father asks. “You’re sweating like crazy.”

“Are we in Kansas?”

Though still a bit taken aback by his resistance, Joel answers. “Yeah.”

“Why did you take me with you? You didn’t need me.”

Joel shrugs. “Many reasons. Distraction, for one. Emotions run higher when there’s a hostage involve, especially when it’s a kid,” he says. “I know for sure it frazzles Tecton. That’s one of his weaknesses: his emotion tends to get the best of him in situations like this. He becomes more impulsive, more prone to make mistakes.”

“So you’re using me as a pawn.”

“I brought you here because I didn’t want to leave you behind with your new family.” He sighs. “Your stepdad is slipping. I want them to know how easily they could lose you. You’re valuable to me, Leo. I want them to feel the same fear I feel every day.”

Leo says nothing. He doesn’t know whether he should be grateful or frustrated that his father is once again stepping into his new life.

“You’re not going to tell me about your dream?” Joel prompts, smiling.

Leo stares at him, unsure. “I know you hate my new family, especially my stepdad, but you can’t keep doing this,” he says wearily. “What are we going to do if they find out that I’m your son? They’d think I’ve been in on it all along. It’s going to make a lot of things complicated.”

“Are you ashamed of me?”

“No, Dad, I never was! But after today, maybe I am.” Leo sighs. He hunches forward, gathering his thoughts. “This is putting me in a bad spot, too. I don’t want you to get hurt. I know you have your reasons why you do the things you do, and as we agreed on our deal I’m not going to interfere with anything unless it’s super bad.”

“But…?”

“But if I keep helping you, the superhero community might start viewing me as an enemy.”

“I only see that as an advantage.”

Leo only glares.

“Why do you insist on being one of them?” Joel asks. “You’re wasting so much of your time trying to earn their respect. You’re working three times as hard as your siblings, and they treat you like you don’t matter.”

“They don’t do that.”

“Yes. They do. You just don’t what to admit it.” Reading distress on his face, he says, “You’re a lot smarter than them. Take away your stepbrother’s bionic chip, and what is he? Just an average kid with an average level of intelligence.”

“But that doesn’t change the fact that—”

“That what? He creates things that work, that make money, and you don’t?” His father’s eyes have darkened, and Leo realizes that the smile was just a mask for the poisonous anger bubbling underneath. “Before you and your mother met them, you were heading towards great things. But look at what they did to you. They took everything from you. They took advantage of your loyalty, your sacrifice – and once they didn’t need you, they discarded you.”

“Please stop,” Leo mutters, the words hollowing out his heart.

Joel’s eyes soften when he realizes how it’s all hurting him. “I know the way I do things aren’t how you’d do them. But the world doesn’t look to me the way it does to you. It’s not a bright and warm place for people like us, my son. It just takes advantage of us and leaves us in the dark.”

When his son still won’t meet his eyes, he attempts a genuine smile. “I’m doing all of this for you. I don’t want you to experience the same things I’ve experienced. I know it may seem that I just want destruction, but really, what I want is a world where no one would take away anything from you.”

Leo knows what his father means; he knows the story. His dad and his uncle were only children, 10 and 7, respectively, when their parents were killed. They were able to get away from the murderers and hide in an abandoned house not far from here.

His grandfather had been close friends with a superhero at the time. They waited and waited for him, wishing that the man would show up and rescue their parents.

But the minutes only turned to hours, and hours turned to days. Even in the funeral, no superhero showed their face.

It was the day The Incapacitator was born. Injustices with no one to help only piled up, and the anger only increased until finally, everything he once was had turned into the man who sits in that room today.

Leo understands. Or, at least, he can sympathize. But why does it have to go this far? “You do know that if you drain the whole Earth of its energy, it’s possible that it would just implode in on itself,” he points out.

Joel laughs. “I just say that to spook the superheroes. You know them. They don’t do anything unless it involves drama.”

“You kidnapped me to prove a point. It’s not like you don’t.”

“I don’t. I prefer to be practical.”

“Practical? What if you get hurt?”

Joel shrugs. “Big game, big risks.”

“What if you die?” Leo asks, exasperated. “What if this is the one to end it all? You told me that your line of work is the one where people make you retire. Why would you put them in that position when you don’t have to?”

The expression on his father’s face changes. “I’m not going to explain anything to you.”

“I don’t need you to explain it to me. I don’t want to get involved in it.”

“Yes, you’ve made that very clear.”

Leo huffs. Why can’t he understand? “Dad, please. Don’t do this.”

“This is not your fight,” his father says decisively. “You’ve never wanted to be on the same side as me. I’m letting you. But don’t interfere with my plans.”

“It’s going to hurt a lot of people.”

“People die. That’s just what they do.”

“People? People like who, Nana and Pops?” Leo regrets the words as soon as they come out of his mouth. Horrifying still is the look of shock and hurt on his father’s face, turning the silence that ensues into something stinging.

He can kick himself. He should kick himself. He should have never gone that far. “I’m sorry, Dad. That was a terrible thing to say,” he apologizes. “It was hard on you when you lost them. I’m not as young as you were, but I don’t want you to die either. No matter how many offenses the law has listed under your name and how much they’re offering people for your capture, you’re still my dad. My world will also fall apart if something happens to you.”

For a moment, Joel only glowers at him. Then, he scoffs. “I can’t believe you know that they have a bounty on my head.”

“Well, I have to find a way to pay for college,” Leo jokes cautiously.

Joel chuckles. He’s still notably upset, but it’s obvious the tactic has worked. “So was that what you were dreaming about? That I died?”

Leo nods. “I was in Mighty Med. They told me you were dead.”

A smile teases at Joel’s face. “That upset you?”

“Of course. Who would ever want to wake up in a world where their parents are gone?” Remembering more of the dream, his frown deepens. “Krane and S-1 were also there. They told me it’s my fault that you died.”

“Krane. I took care of him a long time ago.”

“I know. It was the first time I asked you for help.” Leo hesitates before pointing out, “You know, you didn’t have to go that far. You could have just overloaded them and shorted them out. You didn’t have to…”

“Eliminate them? Of course I did. He was going to hurt you. He also didn’t seem to be the kind of guy who stops after you fire a warning shot.”

“You do know that what you did technically counts as being a hero, right?”

“Hm.”

Leo smiles for the first time. “You know, if Uncle RT finds out you—”

“Don’t.” Joel directs a steely stare at him. “Don’t mention any of the three of them anymore. I don’t want to talk about the dead right now.”

The smile on his face wanes. “Okay.”

Joel nods at the set of clothes sitting on the feet of the bed. “Change into that. You’re gonna be here a while so you might as well be comfortable.”

“Wait. You’re gonna be staying in?”

“Like I said, I’m practical. The longer you’re gone, the more desperate they’ll be. It’s easier to work with desperate people.”

“Aren’t you worried that they’ll find us here?”

“How? I fried your phone while you were sleeping, you don’t have bionics that—”

“You fried what!”

“—can trace, we’re in the middle of nowhere—” Joel smiles as he walks out the room. “They’ve got nothing.”

Leo feels like his brain has shorted out from that one information. “How could you destroy my phone? I worked hard to get that paid off!”

“I can always get you a new one,” Joel calls from down the hall.

Leo groans. That one was mine, though! “Why are you doing this to me?”

His father makes no reply.

Leo sighs, defeated. “You know, I feel like if I had superpowers, we’d be having a different conversation right now.”

His father slowly drifts to the door. “Why? Do you feel like you might?”

“I said if,” Leo says, irritated. “Let’s face it, Dad: I’m 17. Yours started showing up at 5. It’s time that we both accept that I’m a loser in that genetic department.”

“You know you’re not a loser,” says Joel. He shrugs. “You never know. Maybe you’re just a late bloomer. Maybe it’s just taking you longer.”

“Or maybe it’s really just not in me.”

“Could be trigger-based, too,” Joel muses. “Stress…”

“Had four years of that in high school.”

“Life or death situation?”

“Almost died five times, on my last count.”

Joel frowns thoughtfully. “Toxic waste?”

Leo deadpanned. “There ain’t no way I’m going to let you drop me in a pool of one just to see.”

Joel watches him closely. “Do you want superpowers?”

“I don’t think it’d make a difference at this point. I mean, it’d be cool,” Leo admits, “but if I just don’t have it, I just don’t have it.”

Joel nods thoughtfully. “Well, let me know. We could make a bid for the Arcturion if it’s something you want.” He smirks. “I have a better chance at it than she does.”

“Wait,” Leo calls after his father. He swings his feet off the bed, and it’s then that he realizes he’s chained. “Dad, what is this? Why’d you bolt me to the floor?”

“In case they do find us here!”

Leo fiddles with the lock a moment but decides to abandon it for now. “What’s the Arcturion? What’s that?”

“Do you want to help me with this one device I’d been working on? I could never get the mechanics quite right. Maybe you’d have an idea on how to fix it.”

“Yeah, sure – but what’s the Arcturion?”

Joel only chuckles. The real reason why I wanted this transponder, he thinks but as with all unspoken words Leo doesn’t hear it.

Not that he should. He has decided his son can’t know about it yet.

After all, it’s the true key for The Incapacitator to be the most powerful of them all.

#Lab Rats #Mighty Med #chapter five #Noble Intentions #Leo Dooley #The Incapacitator #Victor Krane #S-1/Taylor

19 notes · View notes

littlestarofthewest · 5 years

Photo

Title: Returning the Favor | Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Female Reader

Rating: Explicit | Words: 2981 | Tags: power dynamics, smut, cunnilingus, mildly dubious consent (both are able and willing, but it’s a wonky situation)

Summary: You get robbed by the most handsome man you've ever seen and he disappears into the night. What do you do when he comes back bringing you a gift?

You quickly make your way along the empty street. It's getting dark, meaning that the decent folks head home while the night makes room for the delinquents. So far, you've been fine, mainly since people around here know that you're a woman who can hold her own and that you're carrying a nasty six-shooter that quickly ends discussions that are not going your way.

Tonight, you're unarmed, though. You made some extra dollars cleaning the Jefferson house, and Mrs. Jefferson won't have anybody with a gun on her property except for her guards.

You turn a corner, and the small hairs on your back stand up. The alley in front of you is pitch black. It's probably not a good idea to head that way, but that alley brings you right to your doorstep, and you can avoid walking past the saloon.

After a deep breath, you rush through the narrow passage. Nothing happens. The moonlight illuminates the street before you, and you're only a couple of steps away from your home. It's still too far. You know the second you hear footsteps that you're in trouble.

A dark figure steps out into the street right in front of you, the moonlight glistening on the barrel of the stranger's gun. It's pointed at your chest. "I'm very sorry about this, Miss, but I have to check you for valuables."

The deep voice sends shivers down your spine, but fancy words don't change the fact that you hate to be bullied. "That's an impressing way to phrase a robbery."

The man lifts his head just a fraction, his face no longer hidden by his hat. You should probably wonder why he's not wearing a mask while robbing you, but you're too stunned by his looks. He's the most handsome man you've ever seen, with bright eyes and a nicely trimmed beard that invites you to touch it.

"Not trying to be impressive, Miss," the stranger says.

Not that he has to try, he just is. A head taller than you, his shoulders are so broad that there's no way for you around him, no matter how quick you are. He takes a step forward, holding the gun a little higher. "You wanna give me what you have or do I have to take a look myself?"

Usually, you wouldn't be caught dead being touched by a stranger, but this one's at least a looker. If you're getting robbed, you might as well get something out of it. And who knows, maybe there's still a way to turn this around. "I only got a few dollars. You're welcome to see for yourself."

The man raises his brows, clearly surprised. You have to hold in a laugh. It seems that Mr. Tough-Guy made an empty threat and wasn't planning on touching you at all. He clears his throat before stepping closer. "Don't move," he says, but his voice lost a little of its bravado.

You hold out your arms, and he runs his hand along your waist, checking for hidden treasures under your belt. After barely touching you, he grabs your pouch and takes a look inside. As he takes out the money from your cleaning job, you take your chance. With a swift movement, you grab his gun, and for a second you think you've got him. Then his hands grab both of your wrists. He presses you against the nearest wall with so much force that it pushes the air out of your lungs.

The man steps closer, his whole body boxing you in as he holds both your arms up against the wall. "Don't make me hurt you, miss," he growls, and there's an edge to his voice that finally makes you see the danger you're in.

"Can't blame a girl for trying," you manage to say, not ready to play the frightened victim, no matter how cold you suddenly feel.

The stranger runs his eyes all over your body as if to check that there's no other threat. His gaze drives away the cold, heating your body in a way that's utterly inappropriate for the situation. After a moment, the man presses himself against you, holding you in place while he lets one of your arms go to take the gun out of your hand. He holsters it while looking you dead in the eye, and you know what that means. He doesn't need a weapon to contain you.

"Still don't have more than those few dollars," you say, wondering what he will do about that.

"I don't need your money," he says, taking a step back and bringing your arms down in front of you. "I'll just take this."

Without warning, he slides a silver ring from your finger, and it disappears in his pocket before you get your bearings. Stepping farther away from you, he trains his gun at you again, backing away. "Now, you stay there for a bit, and we'll forget that this ever happened."

You wish you could, but there's a reason you clean houses of old hags instead of pawning a valuable ring. "That belonged to my mother," you say, unable to keep the grief out of your voice. "Please, mister, I can get you more money."

He freezes on the spot, considering your words. "I'll bring it back. Promise."

Before you can argue about it, he disappears into the dark. You run after him, but there's a soft whistle, and then you hear a horse galloping away. "You bastard!" you scream after him, not caring that other thieves might be around. They better not try anything with you tonight.

------

It's been a week since you lost your most valuable possession. Now, you don't care about Mrs. Jefferson's stupid rule and bring your gun along wherever you go. Standing in front of your door, you feel a sense of dread. You turn around, pointing your gun at the stranger behind you.

"Good evening, miss," he says, walking into the light.

"You got some nerve, coming back here," you growl.

The man holds up his hands and dares to smile at you. You hate that it makes him even more attractive. "Promised to bring this back," he says, holding up a small object.

Your ring is glistening in the dim light. "Why?" you ask, not quite believing what you see.

"See, I was just trying to help a friend who found himself in jail," he explains, "I didn't mean to rob you at all."

"How would my ring get your friend out of jail?"

"Pawned the ring, played some poker, got the ring back, paid the bounty," he says. "So thank you for getting my friend out, I guess."

You wish you could say something witty, but the man seems to tell the truth. If he does, it's impressive, but what really gets you is how thoughtful he was about it. "You bought my ring?"

"You said it was your mother's. I didn't want to cause any grieve."

He takes a step forward, holding out the ring at arm's length so you can grab it without having him close. You hold up your hand, and he drops the ring into your palm, stepping away again. "I figure that makes us even. We can go our separate ways, and nobody needs to know."

It's reasonable and precisely what you should do, but you've never been reasonable a day in your life. The fact that he got you still burns hot in your chest, and deep down, you know you won't forget him that easily. Besides, you don't want to let him go just yet.

"Even?" you blurt out. "I already grieved for a week, not knowing that I would get the ring back. You robbed me, and you assaulted me. We're not even."

He nods solemnly at the words. "Fair point. Then what do you suggest we do?"

You look him over, and despite telling yourself that you should just walk away, another voice deep inside reminds you how well built this man is, how polite, and how complicit. It makes all kinds of wrong ideas pop up in your head.

"What's your name?" you ask.

"Taci-," he says, but stops himself by biting his lip. "Arthur, it's Arthur."

He could have easily given you a fake name, but he chose not to. You know how he looks, you have your ring back, and you still have your gun pointed at him. Right now, you're holding all the cards, most of them because he freely gave them to you.

"Come over here," you say, sounding much more in control than you feel. Arthur considers you for a moment, but then he comes closer, and you step back into an alley that goes by your house. "Closer."

"I hope you're not planning on shooting me," he says, but follows you anyway.

"Would you beg for your life?"

"No," he says, and you know it to be true. He might do as you say, but it's his choice. He doesn't fear you or your gun. It makes matters even more exciting.

Your heart pounds faster at the thought what you're about to do. It's madness, but that's what makes it so appealing. You point your gun to the ground. "On your knees. Right here."

Again, Arthur considers you for a moment, but then he walks over without pause, falling to his knees, right into the dirt at your feet. The sight of him as he looks up to you is intoxicating, and you feel the warmth growing between your legs. "You'll do exactly as I say or I'll shoot. Do you understand?"

"I understand."

"Lift up my skirt," you say, and Arthur keeps looking at your face while his hands reach for the fabric without hesitation. As he lifts it up, you can feel the cold air around your legs, making you shiver slightly.

You use your free hand to stick your skirt into your belt, keeping it in place. Then you nod to Arthur. "Pull down my underwear."

You had partners undress you before, but giving the orders turns you on more than you thought. Arthur does as you say, but his head is down, and you miss his intense gaze. You reach down and tip your fingers against his chin. "Eyes up here, cowboy."

Arthur looks up, and despite the dim light, you think that he's blushing a little bit. You can't believe that he's that innocent, but right now, the sight does wonders to the heat in your lower belly. Even worse is the thought of how this must look for someone who walks by. You're more exposed than you've ever been in your life, but having Arthur in front of you like this makes you feel powerful at the same time.

You take Arthur's hat, putting it on your own head before fisting your fingers into his hair. As you pull him closer, you whisper: "Now, if you want us to be even, you better do a good job."

Arthur keeps looking up to you, his cheeks even more flushed. "Yes, ma'am."

If you weren't already burning, his obedient tone might do the trick. Eager to finally get what you want, you force his face between your legs.

At first, Arthur's tender, brushing his lips over your skin as if he's kissing your mouth. It takes all your willpower not to push him further, and it pays off. The kissing and nibbling arouse you more and more and the first time his hot tongue brushes over you, it feels like a stroke from a whip, hitting deep into your core.

You put away the gun, needing your hand free to hold on to a nearby post. Arthur doesn't notice. He keeps licking you with long, hot strokes before dipping the tip of his tongue between your lips. For a moment, you feel embarrassed about how wet you are, but then Arthur moans between your legs. "Jesus, girl," he curses before diving back in.

His eagerness spurs you on to move, and you roll your hips, grinding against Arthur's face. You try your best not to be too rough, but Arthur keeps moaning, uncaring if anybody hears it. Then he begins to shift his legs, and as you look down, you can see the bulge between his legs. You let him wiggle for a moment, before putting your boot right between his legs.

Arthur stops moving immediately, his deep breaths the only sound in the narrow alley. You move just enough that your boot touches him, but without any pressure. "I wouldn't move too much if I were you," you tease. "After all, we won't want you to get too comfortable, right?"

"Right, miss," Arthur breathes, "of course."

"Back to work then, honey."

You still have your hand in Arthur's hair, but you don't need to push him. He buries himself between your legs, his soft beard brushing along your thighs as he licks and sucks as if his life depends on it. You wish you could give him more orders, but all you can focus on is the tension building up between your legs.

At first, you don't even notice how Arthur's hand glides from your body upwards, but then he carefully cups your breast with his large hand, knitting the soft flesh. When you don't object, he gets more daring. With his thumb, he keeps rubbing the same spot until your nipple stands up, pressing through the thin fabric.

While his tongue dives into you, he squeezes your nipple between his fingers. Your hips buck, and this time it's you who can't hold in a moan. His hand moves to your other breast, and you can feel his other hand against your leg. It slowly rides up with a firm grip as if he wants you to know what he's doing. You have a chance to stop him, but no intention to do so.

Arthur leans back a bit, his tongue dragging over your clit in slow strokes. Then he runs his fingers along your folds, getting them wet. He moves one finger deeper inside, still giving you an out. Instead, you push down on it, making him grown. No longer teasing, he adds a second finger, sliding in and out of you at a slow pace.

Not for long, though. Your insides are burning, and with the way Arthur teases all your weak spots, there's no chance you can hold on much longer. Desperate to feel more, you tighten your grip on his hair and hold on to him while grinding over his face. Without meaning to, your boot pushes down a little, and after an initial curse, Arthur moves under you, rubbing against your boot.

He keeps moaning between your legs, each sound spurring you on even more. He no longer has a chance to do much but hold on to you. You use his fingers and face as you please, bringing yourself closer and closer to the edge. When you can feel that you're about to come, you press Arthur so close that he can't breathe. His sounds are muffled, and he struggles to move but can't escape. Having that power over him is all that you need, and you come so hard that your whole body shakes.

You hold on to Arthur for just a moment longer, and his hands grip your thighs as if he wants to push you off, but ops to dig into your flesh instead. Then his body goes rigid, and you pull back his head to see his face as he comes himself, his cock twitching under your boot. It can't be comfortable, but he moans like any whore you ever heard, hips bucking till he's all spent.

You finally let go off him and hold on to the wall behind you instead. Both of you take your time to just breathe for a while. Then you pull out a handkerchief and hand it to him. There's no use cleaning yourself up with it. You're so wet, you can feel your juice smeared all over your thighs, so you just pull down your dress.

Arthur is cleaning himself up, still on his knees. It's strange to look at him. You know nothing about him, but after what just happened, you can hardly call him a stranger.

He holds up the handkerchief for you to take, his gaze almost bashful. "Are we even now?"

"Yes," you say, not able to tease him anymore, "we're even."

You put away the handkerchief and offer Arthur your hand to get up. He's heavy, not quite able to stand yet, so he leans against the wall next to you. After a quick glance at his pants, he looks over to you. "You're an evil woman."

"Am I?" you say, laughing.

He nods. "Wish I would have met you years ago."

You take a look at his pants as well and regret that you didn't really see him come. Arthur catches your eye and winks at you as if he knows exactly what you're thinking. You quickly look away, trying not to blush, and your eyes move further down.

"Since I made you kneel down in the dirt, how about you come inside and clean yourself up," you suggest. "This is my house right here."

"You want me to come inside?" Arthur says, a nasty grin playing around his lips.

You hit his shoulder but nod. "As long as you don't steal anything."

"Wouldn't dream of it. Promise."

"Go on then, cowboy," you say, moving your hand to the handle of your gun.

Arthur lifts up his hands and walks in front of you as if you're holding him at gunpoint. It gives you an excellent chance to check out the goods from behind, and boy, do you like what you're seeing.

This is going to be a long night.

#arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 smut #nsft #my writing

243 notes · View notes

jenovahh · 4 years

Text

The Honey Pot - Ch. 11 - Sweet as Honey

“You would think you all would’ve learned by now…” Zenos sighs, exasperated, knocking a helpless man to the floor.

Your eyes are trained to that same floor, hands locked tight behind your back with Zenos’ sword in hand. You wish you could have ear plugs, ear muffs, anything so you could block out as much of this as possible.

“So weak and helpless are you, that you cannot even create your own form of income, that you must come and steal ours. Interfere with our shipments, rob our trucks mid transport, and sell our product with the audacity to claim it as your own.” Zenos monologues, circling the quivering man on the floor. “Isn’t that right, Foulques?”

The snow white hair of the Elezen is dirtied, covered in dust and soot. He lies in a mangled heap on the floor after Zenos had you forcibly break his legs earlier. It had taken all of your willpower to hold back the bile that threatened to come forth at the sound of his bones snapping in two.

“If you wanted to help redistribute, it was but a matter of contacting us. An arrangement could’ve been made. Instead, you let your greed cloud your judgement, and now here you are, broken on the floor.” Zenos cackles, placing the heel of his shoe on Foulques’ face. “What is a suitable punishment, you think? Personally, I am quite fond of death. After all, there is no greater way to ensure it won’t happen again by ensuring you are not alive to do so.”

Zenos presses down hard, uncaring of the man’s cries of pain. “Where’s that fire I had heard so much of, Foulques? I had heard talk of your strength and yet my guard snapped you in half as if you were but a twig.” He taunts, kicking Foulques onto his back, causing the Elezen to wheeze in pain. “No words? Really, how dull…”

Zenos reaches out his hand expectantly and you flinch, frowning as you pull his sword from behind your back. You place it gently in his hands, fingers touching as he moves to unsheathe the blade. “Well I suppose the message will be sent once your gang members come and find you bleeding out on the floor.” Zenos muses, tossing you the scabbard. “I’ll be sure to send some flowers to your children.”

Children?

“Zenos, wait!”

You block his blade with the scabbard, holding his deadly gaze. You have to talk fast. “Don’t kill him.” You whisper, doing your best to sound strong.

“You know that I must.” Zenos hisses, eyes narrowed on you.

“Just...he has kids, right? Sure they might want vengeance on you if their father is dead...but think ahead a bit more. If he lives, he can sow the seeds of hate in his children himself.” The words sicken you even to say them, but you can see Zenos’ stare visibly lighten as he considers your words. “To send him home broken and mangled, knowing he wasn’t even good enough to kill; what would be a better motivator?”

Your arms tremble beneath his strength, feet planted firmly on the ground to steady yourself to withstand his strength. You watch as Zenos closes his eyes in thought, a vicious smirk painting his lips. “Truly, you are a most valuable prize, my beast.” Suddenly the pressure is gone and you nearly tumble as a result. Zenos snags you by the waist to steady you until you can stand upright.

Turning back to Foulques, he crouches down to his level. “It looks like your false gods have seen fit to give you my mercy. Though, it would be in your best interests to do as she says. Train your children to kill me. I can wait. I am patient.” He chuckles, standing back to his full height. Stepping over Foulques, Zenos heads for the door without a single backwards glance.

You do the same, unable to look at the mangled man any longer.

The walk out of the Duskwights’ hideout is silent like most other raids. It had taken some time to actually get ahold of their leader Foulques, who seemed good at keeping his head low, and with good reason. It was only after Zenos had killed enough of his men did he decide to finally show his face. It seemed like there might be quiet negotiations as Zenos offered to handle things in Foulques’ office, only for him to order you to beat the man to near death.

At least you didn’t have to kill him.

Zenos didn’t seem to get any real enjoyment out of his kills; if anything the act bored him as much as anything else. He had even told you himself that it was merely a result of people refusing to follow orders and getting in his way. If he had enjoyed the act of killing, he would be hard pressed to find anyone to work for him. That did little to soothe your tumultuous thoughts, especially ever since your first outing.

“Perhaps, I can train you in this too.” Zenos muses, breath ghosting across your face. It’s entirely too warm with the furnace that is his body, feeling every single muscle against your own. “I know the savagery is within you. The desire to sink your fangs into my neck and drink deep of my life’s blood...I will see it brought out by my own hand.” He whispers, wiping away the last of your tears.

“You say you did not know what to expect. I suppose I am at fault for that.” He sighs, brushing stray hairs from your face. “So eager was I to fight you, I forgot to attend to other business...but no matter. You too will understand the nature of The Hunt.”

You could feel yourself steadily become immune to the suffering you inflicted on whatever poor gang you had to terrorize as the weeks went by. There were still times where you would nearly be pushed to your limit, but already you could tell your mind was protecting itself, learning to tune out the cries of pain as you shattered bones, made men bleed. Your sullen demeanor didn’t go unnoticed, Zenos seeming at first seeming proud before it turned into displeasure. Despite this, you still were made to accompany him on his excursions due to your role.

“You are distracted.”

You barely move to dodge Zenos as he swings to hit you, narrowly moving out of the way of his follow up hit. You’ve lost your balance as a result and Zenos is ever the opportunist, pursuing you like a hawk. Kicking your feet from under you, you crash into the floor, unable to get up as Zenos has already pinned you in place. Fist balled in your shirt, he stares down at you, but any joy of victory doesn’t show on his face. “Unacceptable.” He hisses, clenching his fist tighter, pulling you toward him.

Averting your eyes, you worry your bottom lip, ready for whatever speech he’s about to give you. “You were bound to catch up eventually.” You lie, and that seems to anger him more because he knows it’s a lie too.

“I am not ashamed to know you are my better, my beast. And I am not too stupid to see your mind is not fully here.” He growls, dropping you back to the floor, uncaring how you wince in pain. Caging you with his arms, he nears his face to your own, hair falling around you like a curtain. “Are you unwell?”

He doesn’t care, you tell yourself, trying to think of an excuse. “I’m fine, Zenos. I’ve just got stuff on my mind is all.” You huff, flashing him an annoyed look. “Now could you please get off me?”

His hands flex tighter around your wrists. “Make me.”

Brows furrowing together, you glare at him full on. “You know damn well I can’t get your heavy ass off me you giant.” You bite out, watching his signature smirk slide into place. “Zenos,”

“Does it make sense? That you are fully capable of throwing me over your shoulder, yet unable to free yourself from being pinned? Perhaps you like being under me…” He teases, failing to notice the way your face immediately flushes red.

“You actually know what you’re doing to immobilize me!” You bark back, trying to control your expresion. “Besides, w-who would want to be underneath you?” You stammer, suddenly unable to look him in the eye.

“Oh, plenty of people, my beast. Men and women alike, have shared my bed.” He purrs, nearing his face even closer to yours. Your breath comes faster, his lips not even an ilm away from your own. “Would you like to be next?”

“Like hell I would!” You renew your efforts to try and free yourself, unable to move as much as you’d like for fear of closing that gap. It’s warm, too warm, and getting warmer in places you know it shouldn’t. The more you struggle, the more the lower half of you tingles.

“Oh, you wound me. Am I not your type?” He continues to tease, tilting his head to bury his nose in your neck, breathing in deep. You start feeling lightheaded. “I promise to make it worth your while…” He purrs, the baritone of his voice rolling across your skin.

Would you really?

“If you weren’t my employee.”

Just like that he’s off of you, heading to grab a bottle of water from the mini fridge. You stare dumbly at the ceiling, slowly pulling yourself off the floor. “E-Excuse me?”

“As fun as it is to tease you, my beast, even I must try and retain some degree of professionalism. It would not do to have relations with my employees, the media would twist and mangle any story beyond repair.” Pulling his hair down from its ponytail, he flashes you a smug look. “Plus we don’t have the time. A hospital my father sponsored is opening today, and we must attend. Your attire should be waiting for you in your room. I will take longer than usual getting ready, so don’t rush on my account.” Saying nothing more he steps out the door, leaving you alone and aroused in the gym.

You wait until he’s far down the hall to scream in frustration.

Marching to your room, you curse him the entire way; how could you be so foolish? Of course he was only messing with you, of course he didn’t actually want you--

Of course you were foolish for thinking otherwise--

You stamp the disappointment down before it can grow into something worse, thankful you at least the satisfaction of being able to fling the door to your room open and slam it closed hard enough to make the walls shake. Undressing, you quickly turn the shower on to blasting, the cold waters chilling your soul as you stand under the spray.

How could he go on about professionalism with how he treated you? It was simple enough to say that he didn’t want you instead of lying. If he truly cared about being professional he would call you by your name, he’d treat you nicer, he’d not pin you between his muscled legs and arouse you so…

A bastard in every sense of the word except the correct one, he was. You had never hated him more than you did in that moment. More than when he had found you. More than when you watched him kill innocents in front of you. If only you could strike fear into his heart the same way he did to you.

You dress in a rush, giving no mind to the quality of the suit that was resting on your bed. Its slight sheen goes unnoticed, its comfort disregarded. You can think only now of squashing whatever feelings it was you’re feeling, merely tucking your gun into your blazer. Suited up, you head to sit in the foyer, taking your usual seat on a window sill as butlers and maids pass by on business.

“You’ve changed, you know.”

Head snapping up, you lock eyes with Ardbert who gives you a hesitant smile. “Good morning, friend.” He greets, eyeing the open space next to you. “Mind some company?”

Frowning, you quickly look around. “Ardbert, you know that Zenos,”

“I get the feeling that his threats are more warnings than actual threats. I’ve driven him around for years. Think he’d hate to have to train another chauffeur, yeah?” He laughs lightly, moving to sit next to you.

Something about Ardbert’s presence is calming, your frown melting away. “What do you mean I’ve changed?” You ask, brushing your hair behind your ear.

He seems to mull over his words for a moment, thinking them over. “I’ll be honest, Honey. This job. It’s not good for you.” His face is serious, concerned. A genuine concern that you haven’t seen ever since you had started working here. “I had hoped that he wouldn’t drag you back to those places. Like I said when I met you...you don’t belong here. You look like nothing had gone as planned.”

It surprises you what a good read Ardbert is, considering most of your interactions are not face to face, given that Zenos is also usually in the vicinity. You can feel tears pinprick behind your eyes, quickly turning away. You couldn’t cry in front of him too.

“It’s alright.” Ardbert’s voice is gentle as he holds out a handkerchief in front of your face, one you accept graciously as you dab at your eyes softly. “It’s been buggin’ me a while to ask but...why are you here? You had to have known what you were getting into, right?” He questions, seeming as if he wants to reach out and comfort you, but even he dares not go that far.

You bark out a bitter laugh, wondering if he’s a mind reader. “I had an idea, but I suppose I didn’t think hard enough about where I would end up when I applied to work here. I feel so stupid now.” You whisper sourly, angry at no one but yourself. “He had called me naive, you know. Maybe I really was. Am.”

“Naive might not be the right word.” Ardbert offers, bumping shoulders with you. “I don’t think anyone expects to become a bodyguard who moonlights as a hitman. I certainly didn’t expect it myself, when I was hired…” He gives his own bitter laugh, a frown marring his handsome face. “Had I known he would eventually take you there, make you do those things...I would have warned you. Told you to run away, so that it wouldn’t have been too late.” Scratching the back of his head, he gives a forlorn sigh. “I thought maybe you didn’t have a clue, given the circumstances we picked you up under…”

Those words alone are almost enough to make you want to cry all over again and fling yourself into his arms. “Ardbert…”

“Hope you can forgive me.” He offers an apologetic smile. “But if it wasn’t obvious, I’m your friend yeah?” He holds out a fist with a smile. He laughs richly as you stare at it for a moment, giving it a shake. “Well come on then. Don’t leave me hangin’.”

Giggling, you curl your hand to a fist and bump it against his, smiling genuinely for the first time in weeks. “Thank you,”

He shakes his head as he stands to his feet. “What are friends for?” Adjusting his tie, he moves to head for the door. You watch him head outside, surely on his way to the garage to retrieve the car. You would actually be riding in a separate car with Varis’ bodyguards, protecting both the front and the back of his and Zenos’ shared car. It strikes you then that you’ve actually never met any of Varis’ bodyguards, and you begin to ponder what they could possibly look like. How good were they in a fight that Zenos resented his father for taking them from him?

Your fingers flex unconsciously, thinking of the prospect of a different opponent. Not that Zenos was boring; his adaptive ability made every day a challenge. But even you couldn’t push back the excitement of knowing other worthy potential opponents were so close.

You were becoming too much like that asshole.

“You’re Honey, correct?”

Looking up, a taller, Garlean woman stands before you, her red hair slicked into a tight bun atop her head. She wears the exact same suit as you, but somehow with her long legs, she looks so much better in it. “That’s me.” You reply, extending your hand out to shake.

“I see.” Her eyes run over you in distaste, causing you to frown. “I am Lord Varis’ chief bodyguard, Livia sas Junius. You will be sharing a car with me.” You don’t even bother extending your hand in an offer to shake it. Clearly they could only find the most stuck up Garleans on all of Hydaelyn.

“Alright. Is it time to head out?” You ask, standing to your feet.

“It is time to ‘head out’, yes.” She mocks, walking toward the door. “You would be aware of this if you were on the correct linkshell channel. Not that I would expect a savage to know how to work advanced, Garlean technology.”

You see red as you glare at the back of her head, following after her. “Call me a savage again, bitch.” You dare, watching as she turns to you slowly.

“And unprofessional too. Really, does Lord Zenos,” She doesn’t get time to finish her sentence as Zenos catches you hard by the wrist.

“Insulting my employees, Livia?” Zenos asks, leveling her with a bored look. However after your months of being around him, you have learned his tells, able to hear the slight annoyance in his voice.

“N-Never, young master.” She bows, clearly flustered.

“This is my bodyguard’s first time on this type of excursion. I would expect you to set an example and instead guide her on correct protocol so as to not embarrass herself and by extension my father...who I won’t be needing to inform about your misstep, now will I?” A chill fills the air at his tone despite the warmth of the summer day, Livia doing her best to not visibly shake.

“No, my lord.”

“Good. Now do as you are told and make sure she does her job efficiently.” Releasing your arm he turns to head back inside. “You would do well to not anger her. Next time I might not be around to stop her from demolishing you.” He calls over his shoulder.

Your cheeks tingle with the rush of blood to them at his compliment. Though it wasn’t direct, it was praise nonetheless, without being followed by a backhanded comment. Turning back to Livia, she too is red, though from shame rather than embarrassment. “Come along….Miss.” Livia grounds out, heading back to the garage. You can’t help but snicker to yourself as you follow behind her.

You’re given a quick run down of how the linkshell works, being given a more in depth tutorial on how the more advanced linkpearls worked. The debriefing gave you a strange sense of nostalgia; reviewing the floorplans, potential dangers, instructions on emergency maneuvers all reminded you of your time on the police. You picked it up naturally as a result, though Varis’ bodyguards didn’t find it impressive. Livia was joined by Rhitahtyn, a man who somehow managed to outdo Zenos in bulk, though he was far more stout. Skin almost as dark as Gaius’, he had an equally imposing image. Livia was quick to inform him to keep down about you, letting you know that even though they were nothing to sneeze at, they still feared Zenos.

A hospital seemed far too philanthropic for what you knew of Varis’ character, and you’re positive that it’s nothing more than to play up his public image. From what you remembered, he was surprisingly well liked by the public, regardless of having a very stern persona and conservative ideals. It didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, and you would most likely try to be on your phone through the majority of the ceremony.

When it’s time to load up, you catch father and son entering their car, Zenos looking entirely disinterested and like he’d rather be anywhere else. Varis maintains his usual frown, and you have to wonder if his face just rests like that, or if he’s that pissy all the time. Shrugging, you hop into the car with Livia, buckling in for the ride to the new hospital.

The building itself speaks of Varis’ tastes; just from the outside you can see no expense was spared in making it. It’s quite a ways from downtown, allowing it more space to sprawl outward. The grounds are filled with the greenest grass, the loveliest blooms gil can buy. The sun shines brightly on the grouping of various buildings, making it a picturesque day for this unveiling.

As the car pulls up, you step out, adjusting your suit. Paparazzi are held at bay by ropes and security, so you mosey on over to the Galvuses’ car as they pull up. Opening the door, Varis steps out first, Livia already at his side. You hold back a snort as they begin their walk down the red carpet, turning your face away from the dozens of flashes of cameras. Zenos steps out soon after, wearing a full suit and looking entirely too good in it. Closing the door behind him, you follow him down the aisle, sticking close to his side as he doesn’t bother to even wave for pictures.

A simple stage sits just outside in the parking lot, filled with balloons and reporters alike. Reaching it, Zenos follows his father to go sit down in a row of chairs, picking the one closest to the end. You stand with Rhitahtyn off to the side, instructed to stay out of primary view of what’s being recorded, but also close enough should anything happen. From what you’ve seen though, security is tight and there’s few places for anyone to hide. All reporters and guests have been checked for any firearms or weapons, making for a smooth event.

If only it wasn’t so boring.

Since you are out of sight of most of the cameras (and also Varis and Zenos) you play games on your phone through the majority of the dull speeches. Anytime Rhitahtyn shoots you a look you give him one right back, daring him to say anything. You know he’s as bored as you, and that despite the fact you’re at least entertaining yourself, you still pay close attention to anything being said in the linkshell. You find it better than purposefully rolling your eyes at anything doctors say or how Gaius sings Varis’ praises, prattling on about how generous he is. The crowd cheers as Varis makes his speech, making himself seem some sort of visionary.

You wish you were totally out of sight to flip him off behind his back.

Clapping for appearance’s sake, you move into position to get father and son to the front doors where a huge red ribbon is waiting to be cut. Bodyguards are out of arm’s reach, but still a reasonable distance away, as to not mess with the image of Varis walking the halls of his new hospital. He’s clearly confident with his security, if he’s going to choose his image over common sense. The bastard clearly enjoys being the center of attention, answering every single question with ease as he touts about how advanced the facility is and how many lives it will save. Would it be rude to ask him when he’d shut up so you could go home? Probably, and sadly it was not a risk you were willing to take.

Several floors up now, you’ve held yourself back from sighing no less than twenty times now, settling for watching the day pass by out the windows. It really is a beautiful day out, one best spent out in the sprawling gardens of the estate and instead you are stuck here, following a rich man on an ego trip. Watching the trees sway and grass grow proves more entertaining than listening to Varis talking just because he likes the sound of his voice. Even the reflection of a stranger in the glass is--

Before your mind can catch up, thick smoke fills the hall, burning your throat and stinging your eyes, sending the hallway into a panic. “Zenos!” You call, trying to open your eyes but every time you do it burns like the seven hells. You hear shuffling and grunting, Livia and Rhitahtyn calling out for Varis over the panicked screams of the reporters.

But not Zenos.

“Zenos!” You shout, trying to move but bumping into one person after another in the hallway. The entire hospital powers down, leaving the sun through the windows the only source of light.

Cursing, you reach up to your linkpearl. “Livia! Rhitahtyn!” You hiss, trying to hear anything over the sound of people coughing. “Do you have eyes on them? Either of them?!”

Static sounds through the linkpearl for a few moments. “I can’t see a damn thing!” Comes Rhitahtyn’s deep voice. “Someone’s had to have taken them. They’ve not responded to me at all!”

Dread pools in your gut as you make your way to the closest wall. “We need to get out this hallway!” The gas doesn’t let up as you feel your way along the wall. You mumble apologies as you bump into the several people crowded in the hallway, trying to move out of the gas as quickly as possible. You yelp as you’re suddenly pulled forward through a door, the metal slamming shut behind you.

Jerking your eyes open, the serious faces of Livia and Rhitahtyn stare back, the latter handing you a handkerchief which you accept eagerly. “We must act quickly.” Livia begins, turning to head down the stairwell she had pulled you into. “Rhitahtyn, do you have any fix on their location?”

“They’re currently being moved downstairs, I suspect to some getaway car. We need to act fast.” He answers, swiping along on a tablet. “They are moving somewhat slowly. Both Lord Varis and the young master are not easy to transport due to their stature and would therefore slow them down.”

You can’t help but be a bit surprised at their competence and quick thinking. You begrudgingly give them your respect, leaping down flights of stairs.

“Very well. Rhyitahtyn, contact the security outside to be ready for potential interception, and also begin the building’s lock down phase. Contact the police so that they can already be on their way here once we apprehend these fools.” Livia hisses, pausing to glance at the glowing screen. Her eyes flick to you. “You. I want you to come with me as we intercept them. We don’t know how big this team is, but between the two of us we should be able to stop them until more help arrives. If your skills live up to Lord Zenos’ praise.” Red lights begin flashing in the stairwell, and you hear the distant sound of metal doors slamming shut.

“The hospital has successfully been locked down.” Rhitahtyn informs, sitting his hulking form down on the stairs. “They’ve been stopped successfully. You should be able to intercept them now. They’re on the second floor, but you must still hurry before any harm comes to them. I will keep you updated via the linkshell.” Reaching into his pocket he hands the both of you matte, black cards, and you recognize them to be similar to the ones used at home. “These will help you unlock doors to make your way to them. Be careful, Livia.”

Nodding, Livia motions for you to follow her, heading down a few more flights of stairs. “All right rookie,” she begins, still managing to cling to her pride, but unwilling to run the risk of you telling Zenos she insulted you later. “We’re not going to do something as stupid as splitting up unless we see the opportunity to pincer them. They’re obviously somewhat organized, so we have to minimize all risk of harm until we can confirm that our targets are safe. Do you have your gun?” You give a sharp nod as you both come to a stop to a door. “Good. Only use it when absolutely necessary; absolutely no harm must come to Lord Varis or the young master.” Holding the keycard up to the door, the latch unlocks. “Follow me.”

Quiet as a mouse, you slink into the hallway, lit only by the sunlight. You can see a slight panic outside, as security herd reporters away from the building. Shaking your head, you turn back to focus on following Livia as you make your way through the halls of the hospital. Livia begins to check her phone for an update, but you grab her attention as you hear voices down a hall. Nodding that she understands, you slowly make your way, following signs toward the lobby.

“You absolute idiots!” You hear someone yell, their voice echoing in the large space. You and Livia quickly duck behind one of the desks at the nearby reception area, poking your head out.

A blonde, Hyuran man stands in the midst of several men, all wearing red. The blonde man slaps a lackey across the face, quite hard from the sound of it, uncaring that he crumples to the floor. “We were supposed to grab these two and get out of here, but you idiots are too weak to lift two men!”

“Boss, the son has to weigh at least 200 ponze of pure muscle!” One pipes up only to be silenced by the blonde man smacking him in the face.

“Do I look like I care about how much he fucking weighs? We spend an entire night camping inside this fucking hospital, only for them to put it on lockdown! We’ll be lucky if we make it out of here ourselves, let alone with these two alive!” He roars, taking a deep breath as he reaches up to pinch his nose. “Perhaps we should cut our losses and get out of here, before it’s too late.”

“Look, there.” Livia whispers, pointing to a grouping of couches. Zenos and Varis are strewn upon them, unconscious. “Good. They seem unharmed for now.” Shifting her weight she turns to you. “That savage is Lambard. He’s incredibly dangerous, we’ll have to be careful…”

“Boss, why don’t we take just one?” An underling proposes, flinching when Lambard turns to him.

“Oh and which do you propose we take, hmm?” Lambard asks, voice mockingly sweet.

“The uh, son? His father will want him back right?”

It is silent for a few moments until you hear a loud slap. “It is well and good I don’t pay you all to think.” Lambard sighs, drawing near to the two, unconscious men on the couch. “If you all would pay attention to anything around you for two seconds, you would realize there is absolutely no love lost between father and son. The bastard wouldn’t care if anything happened to his only child, and the whelp couldn’t give a damn about his father.”

“Then why are we trying to get ‘em both?” The same one asks, groaning in pain as Lambard steps on him with his heel.

“Because, there are people willing to pay a pretty penny for Varis’ head on their wall. At the very least, they are both unconscious and we can abandon them here, wait for things to cool off, and try another time. No one will know it was us.” Lambard snickers, punching Zenos across the face. “Ah, that felt great.”

You feel your fists clench reflexively.

“I suppose we could leave ‘em a little beaten up and bruised before we get out of here.” Lambard cackles, giving Zenos another punch in the face. “Ah man this feels so good! After having to have this whelp come around and threaten me for so fucking long…” He slaps Varis across the face, roaring with laughter. “These drugs must be strong! They’ve hardly moved!”

You begin to rise but Livia yanks you back down, furiously shaking her head. Gnashing your teeth you turn back as Lambard continues his abuse on the two, anger rising as you watch.

“Boss, we should really get out of here…” an underling warns, to which Lambard responds with a swift kick to their knee.

“What did I tell you about telling me what to do?” He asks in a sing-song voice, smirking as the underling crumples to the floor. “Though I suppose we have overstayed our welcome...though now, I am reconsidering my idea from earlier. Perhaps we can make use of the son. It is only half of the deal, but something is better than nothing, correct? And who knows! Perhaps his old man will have a change of heart and want his baby boy back.” Lambard laughs. “Have those idiots found a backdoor yet?”

“Yes boss. We’ve managed to find one of the hidden exits through a connected building.”

“Excellent! Perhaps you all aren’t so useless after all.” Lambard grins, snapping his fingers. “Leave the bastard. Let’s go.”

You watch as a few of the men in the group slowly heft up Zenos’ hulking form, panic shooting through you as they begin heading in the opposite direction out of another doorway. Without thinking you launch yourself from behind the desk, ignoring Livia’s commands for you to stop. “You get Varis!” You call over your shoulder, vaulting over chairs and couches as you move to catch up.

Adrenaline propels you forward, throwing all tact and reason out the window. Barrelling through the door they left through, it slams into the wall, alerting them to your presence further down the hall. “Who the hell are you?!” Lambard yells, quickly turning back to his gang. “Stop the girl! We gotta get this guy out of here!” He orders, ushering the men holding Zenos down another hall.

A group of five men stay behind, chuckling to themselves. “You lost ma’am?” One taunts, cracking his knuckles as you make your way toward them.

“Get out of my way.” You respond, clenching and unclenching your fists, quickly analyzing each of them. Five on one is still a lot, and the space in this hallway is pretty tight. Looking at them you can see they’re nothing but run of the mill thugs, and should all go down pretty easily.

“Think you’re tough in your little suit, huh?” One laughs, causing the others to join in as he pulls out a gun. “Don’t want to get hurt, now do ya missy? Come over here and be sweet.”

Huffing, you march over to the band of men with your hands upraised, keeping a close eye on their gun. “This is your last warning. Get out of my way.” You snarl, finally standing before the gunman.

“No need to be that way! If you come quietly, we’ll talk it over with the boss and show you a real good time,” Now in arm’s reach you quickly disarm him, knocking his feet from under him to send him crashing to the floor. The others try to scramble into action, throwing themselves at you haphazardly. Centering yourself, you don’t pull your punches, making sure to bruise as they fall to the ground in a heap one by one. Once the last one is down, you hop over their bodies and dash down the hallway, praying they hadn’t gotten too far.

“Livia?” You call into the linkpearl, heart thundering inside your chest. You’ve lost track of them. “Livia!” You try again, spinning in circles frantically.

“What is it?!” Livia finally answers, voice crackling through the linkpearl.

“They’re trying to sneak Zenos out the back exit, I’m trying to catch up,” You get out between breaths, running down halls like a madwoman. “Tell them to reinforce the,” You yelp as you’re suddenly hit in the face, sliding to the ground as you clutch your bloodied nose.

“Well, well, looks like even the Galvuses’ lackeys break just like the rest, huh?” Lambard cackles, fine, leather shoes walking into your vision. “So what’s your name, huh? Don’t think I’ve seen you around.” He kicks you hard in your side, surprising you with his strength.

Taking a steadying breath, you push yourself up onto your elbows, fixing the Hyuran man with a deadly glare. “My name is Honey.” You spit, swiping your hand across your face, smearing your blood on your cheek.

“Honey, huh? Are you as sweet as your name?” Lambard taunts, shoving you with his foot. “I don’t understand why the bastard feels he needs so many bodyguards…” He groans, walking back toward his members that still carry Zenos. “But, since you’re here, I might be willing to run off without killing you if you can tell me a few things.” He grins, spinning to face you.

“I won’t tell you shit.” You begin pulling yourself from the floor again, willing strength into your limbs. The pain from your broken nose fades into a slight throb, allowing you to focus your breathing.

“Boss,” One of the lackeys warns, but Lambard ignores them.

“I am not running away from some girl.” Lambard snarls, eyes fixated on you. “You two! Take care of her.”

The two men holding Zenos’ legs exchange a look, but set them down to follow orders. The first one launches himself at you, swinging his fist in a wide arc. You easily slip under him, delivering a well placed uppercut to his jaw so hard you hear his teeth click together. As he clutches his face in pain, you take the chance to deliver a roundhouse kick to his face, sending him to the floor.

Shaking your hands, you take pleasure from the fear you see filling Lambard’s eyes.

The next man throws himself at you, a bit smarter than the former, keeping his fists closer to himself. He’s easy to find an opening for though, snatching his fist from midair to bend it backwards toward him, grinning darkly as you feel his bones crack in ways they’re not supposed to. Punching him square in the chest, he lands flat on his back, screaming in pain as you step hard enough on his chest to crack a rib.

“W-What...what are you?!” Lambard yells, eyes wide with fear. He backs away frantically, scrambling to get behind his last underlings. “No one moves like that! It’s unnatural! You’re a freak!” Shoving at the last two lackeys, he makes them drop Zenos as he pushes them toward you. “Get her!”

The two of them seem as afraid of you as Lambard is, unsure of whether to follow their sense of self preservation, or orders from their boss. “I said kill her!” Lambard draws his own gun, spurring the two men into action. Cursing, they don’t make the mistake of their former companions and both approach you at once, prompting you to back off. They’ve got you on the defensive, pushing you further away from the exit. One manages to get a cheap shot on you, making you stumble, giving the other the chance to grab you from behind to lock your arms together.

“Ha! Not so tough now are you?!” Lambard jeers, waving his gun at you. “So now, maybe you’ll start talkin’!”

“I told you I’m not telling you shit!” You bark, struggling against the hold of the man behind you but the second socks you in the gut, knocking the wind out of you. Exhaustion begins to set in, your muscles crying for relief.

“Yes, yes, you told me before.” Lambard groans, shaking his head, coming to kneel beside Zenos. Your eyes widen as he places the barrel of the gun directly to his head, fixing you with a cruel smile. “How about now?”

Biting your lip, you stare down at Zenos’ unconscious face. “Leave him alone.” You murmur, fixing Lambard with a pleading look. The action only serves to make him laugh, grabbing Zenos forcefully by his hair, shaking him around.

“Who is he to you? Who are you to him? Does he know you’d beg for his life? Never thought I’d see the day someone would beg me to not kill this son of a bitch.” Lambard chuckles, dropping him to the floor. “Go on. Beg me for it.”

Your mind is racing malms a minute, deciding on the best course of action. He seems more concerned with stroking his ego at having you at a disadvantage than escaping, so even if it stings your pride, you can buy yourself some time.

“Please...don’t kill him.” You beg, scared with how genuine your voice sounds. Lambard cackles loudly, clearly enjoying himself and part of you wonder if he gets off on it.

“Oh, man is this how that bastard feels? I gotta say, it feels pretty damn good.” Coming to stand before you, he gives you a taunting sneer. “Maybe I should take you with me instead? You’re a lot easier to run off with, plus I could keep you like a little trophy, hm?”

Holding your tongue (and your bile), you nod slowly. “Anything to keep him safe.” You plead, even going slack in your captors’ arms. Pleased with your submission, Lambard clutches your face in his hands, giving you an evil smirk. “Such sacrifice...what a good find you are.” He practically giggles, rubbing a thumb along your bottom lip.

“Lambard!”

All of you turn to see Livia come barreling around the corner, gun drawn as she aims straight for Lambard. Her eyes are fierce, but she doesn’t fire. “Drop your weapon!” She demands, slowly making her way toward you. Lambard only sighs, releasing your cheek as he steps away from you.

“So many lovely women keep popping up...and surely your friends aren’t so far behind. I suppose I should throw in the towel…” He sighs, shaking his head slowly as he slowly lowers himself in a crouch to place the gun on the floor. Just when it looks when he’s about to release it from his hand, everything happens in slow motion.

Hear…

Your heart feels like it’s caught in your throat, pounding in your head. The hall is quiet save for the panic outside.

Feel…

The men still hold you tightly as they watch their boss slowly lower the gun to ground. With wide eyes you watch as Lambard quickly shifts the gun in his hand at the last second to angle it toward Zenos, too quickly for Livia to react quickly enough. Alarm races through you, adrenaline once again flooding your veins.

Think....

“He has no use for anyone who is not willing to kill or be killed for him.”

“Those in power cannot afford to show weakness.”

“Kill him.”

Your mind goes blank.

Something comes over you, something unnatural, giving you the strength to free yourself from the hold of the underlings. With unfeeling, calculating hands you reach for Lambard’s head, a hand at the back and one under his chin. Gripping hard, you twist his neck with a loud snap, releasing him to fall on the floor. Turning on the guards you quickly deck one in the face hard enough to dislocate his jaw, giving him a few more blows to send him to the ground as well. The other grabs you from behind, arm around your neck in an attempt to choke you. Reaching up you grab his arm and bend over, launching him over your back to slam into the floor. You pull your gun from your blazer, aiming down, hand on the trigger.

“Don’t kill them!” Livia shouts, eyes so wide you can see the whites of them. “Honey! Don’t fire!”

Hearing your name snaps you from your trance, taking a good look at the men on the floor. His hands are held in front of his face, tears streaming down his cheeks as he trembles in fear. The gun falls from your hand onto the floor, the man jolting as it lands with a clatter. Livia approaches slowly, lowering her gun as she eyes the pile of men on the floor.

“Rookie…” Her voice is but a harsh whisper, peppered with disbelief and shock.

You do not hear her.

“Rhitahtyn...the culprits have been apprehended.” Livia speaks into her linkpearl, turning away to go check on Zenos. “Have an ambulance come around, quickly, for the young master…” She pauses, glancing at your frozen form over her shoulder.

“And one for the rookie too.”

#zenos #zenos yae galvus #FFXIV #ff14 #Final Fantasy XIV #THP

16 notes · View notes

dragonrajafanfiction · 4 years

Text

Dragon Dancer Chapter 21: The Awakening

I sprinted all the way to the Executive department, arriving out of breath. I saw that Caesar and Nono already arrived. Not only were students here but older people I assumed to be professors were here as well, sitting behind computer consoles. All eyes turned to me as I stood in the doorway out of breath.

My mind was trying to work out where in the world I should go when I heard someone behind me. I quickly stepped aside as Lu Mingfei tried to stumble to a halt having almost run full tilt into me. I panicked as he hit the floor, sliding a few inches.

“Lu-Senpai! Are you okay!” I tried to help him up.

He rubbed his forehead. “I’m fine! I’m fine!” He said as I followed him to his chair. Then he looked confused. “You’re not going to sit with Johann?”

“He’s not here.”

Master list

Professor Schneider rolled out in a wheelchair. An oxygen mask on his face, he spoke in spurts gasping between phrases. “An artifact recovered from Siberia has activated. It contains valuable dragon genetic material. However, unless we can find a way to shut down its container, this material could be lost.”

"Our top scholars have placed the urn’s origins between 6,000 and 7,000 BC. Before the first dragon revolution, predating the four lords. We cannot lose its contents.”

I gasped. On a large screen was that urn, the one from the photo in Siberia - that same urn that caused the earthquake!

I averted my eyes but it was too late. Whispers came in waves even louder than before.

“We believe the activation is a fail save, to prevent the contents inside from ever being released or opened.” Schneider was continuing to talk, but I couldn’t listen for the growling voice demanding my attention, snarling and barking orders.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Lu whispered to me. "Are you okay?

"It's that-...” I whimpered. “-The picture!”

"What picture?"

"They shouldn't have-!" I wanted to cry. The voice in my mind was so threatening and cruel. The minute I started to speak it overruled me, screeching, startling me to silence!

“Carli, do you have something you’d like to share?” Caesar curled one fist under his cheek smiling, but his smile was short-lived when he saw that I was in actual pain.

The mental voices didn’t need to breathe or take a pause to collect their thoughts. They were thoughts, running in a continual unending stream, robbing me of my own will.

I could feel Lu’s hands on me, shaking me. I looked him in the eye. He was beautiful, in radiant light. I smiled and placed my hands on his face as if to kiss him. Caught in a trance, the words in my head and the words coming from my mouth were one chorus.

“So indomitable is your strength that they sought to contain you. But you can’t be contained. Rise to your fated victory.”

Lu’s face paled. “Carli, what are you saying?”

A voice came over the loudspeaker. “Sir! The urn! It’s moving? Like a mechanical device!”

“Get a video on scre-” Schneider’s voice cracked and descended into coughing.

The screen came on anyway. The urn had unfurled mechanical wings and from the wings hung a hideous one-eyed worm with needle teeth . Its wings made a rapid chittering as it rose. Metal bells rang from its tail.

The last vision for the Cassell students who were unlucky enough to be in the lab where this creature awoke was of a spinning ethereal wheel surrounding it. They heard the hum as it gathered power and they felt, however briefly, its flash of obliterating dark energy. Their screams stopped short. The video cut to static.

The ground rumbled with the power of the blast, throwing me to the ground and waking me up out of my trance. Alarms sounded throughout the campus. “Dragon attack! Dragon attack!”

“Carli! Are you okay? Get up!”

I pushed myself up to my knees.

Caesar vaulted up over our desk. “Get up! Go!”

I got to my feet staggering out of the hall.

Manstein was shouting into his phone. “Get Anjou on the line! Raise the restriction on Speaking Spirit!” He turned to another device connected to the PA system. “ All students report to the Library!”

The front courtyard of the library building had collapsed into a gaping hole in the pavement. The creature floated over it, hovering with its buzzing mechanical wings. It seemed half living creature and half machine. The sound of its wings were the whirring of gears in its joints. Its scales were augmented with metal plating.

As I looked up, some sort of protective shield was descending over the entire campus. “No one gets in or out until that thing is dead!” Caesar roared. “To the last man! For Gattuso!”

The dragon opened his putrid maw. Its voice growled out over the campus. "Kneel before the Great God or Perish!"

Caesar led the charge, sending a rapid fire barrage at the beast. The bullets whistled and roared, like no gun I’d heard in my life.

The dragon shuttered it’s mechanical wings around his fragile soft body, sending bullets pinging and sparking. Eyelets on their outer edges opened, whined with energy and discharged a hailstorm of glassy ink-black shards..

I screamed and threw myself to the ground. The shards exploded on impact with the pavement, pummeling me with sharp bits of shrapnel that tore my clothing and left me bloody. People fell, impaled in the face, neck and chest. People were screaming.

I crawled under a bench for cover. But what cover could ever withstand an attack like that? Ground-shaking booms sent my ears ringing. Cannons had surfaced from the tops of the buildings and rained down a constant bombardment on the beast. It shrieked in fury from the fire and the smoke. The spinning ethereal wheel of death whirled once more, letting out a threatening hum. Streamers of dark substance sprayed out from it and slammed into one of the buildings, sending rubble crashing down.

A dark aura burst from it blocking any return assault. Energy swirled around it, pulsating. Its single yellow eye glowed brightly behind the shield.

I peered about for any sign of my friends and spotted Principal Anjou who tossed his lit cigar to the ground and threw out his arm. “Time Zero!”

True to the name, everything went frozen and silent. He turned and looked at me. “My dear.”

I looked up at him, feeling like I was so close to fainting.

“The creature is immature, it’s using its strength to grow to its mature state. The time distortion will only last three minutes.” He pulled out a gold pocket watch from his custom suit with a cheeky grin. “Let’s see how much damage you can do.” He started the clock ticking.

I got to my feet and rushed forward, eyes closing. I didn’t have to see the light beam to know it was there. “Ielia!”

She was beside me.

There was no time to think or plan or strategize. I flung as many shards of light as I could at the dark bubble, knowing that everyone I’d met, everything I had left depended on it. With the same determination, Ielia, who was much more experienced in battle, turned to me, urging me to imitate her as she formed hers into a ball and tossed it at the protective hull. It exploded on impact. I stared in surprise, not realizing I had that ability.

The shell was starting to fracture under the bombardment. Ielia extended her hand and her shaft of energy grew longer, sparking like a comet. I looked at my own and imitated her stance, it worked. Its hissing grew louder and the light grew brighter. It started to smoke.

“15 more seconds!” Anjou shouted.

It was starting to shake loose from my hand. I let it go and it hung in the air. Only by my mental say-so did it fly to the bubble and stick there, drilling its way through. I lifted my hands and raised ten more like it and threw them all at once.

Anjou held out his arm and snapped his fingers.

The entire campus exploded with a burst of light, bright like a sun. People shielded their eyes as everything I had done seemed to happen all at once.

The bubble collapsed. One mechanical wing was shattered. The dragon listed to one side as it came under unrelenting cannon fire. It smashed into the ground and thrashed, screaming.

Anjou retrieved his cigar where he’d tossed it and brushed it off. “Very well. That’s quite enough.” He said into a device on his wrist, his voice coming over all channels. “We need to leave something to study.”

The thunderous artillery fire went silent. The moans and cries of the wounded filled the courtyard.

He approached me. “Well done.”

“This was my fault… I woke it up…” I whimpered.

“I’ve been at this war for many decades. This goes far beyond you my dear. However, having you at my side… It’s enough to give me hope.” He solemnly watched the medical personnel sort out those they could save from the hopeless.

I looked up at him. “But I woke it up. People are dead now. People always die around me!”

“It is not…” He said sharply, before softening his tone. “... your fault. There is an effect called the Blood Call. In short, those with high purity can stimulate the awakening of dragons. It could have been any of us. But even if it was you, that’s hardly your problem.”

I twined my fingers and hung my head. “Yessir.”

“This dragon was exceptionally strong and strange. Its words… concerning.”

He walked away as Manstein approached wailing about the massive damage that had occurred to the campus and his students.

That thing had woken up and it attacked so harshly, pitilessly and immediately. It was so different from my father.

Already, the gear department was working on getting the pieces of the dragon onto a truck.

Lu walked up to me, clear concern on his face. “Are you going to be okay?”

The way he was looking at me. Expecting me to turn servitor again? “Yes. My blood is up but… not that far yet.”

“I… I didn’t mean that.” He said quietly. “I mean, you’re okay… right?”

“I… don’t know.”

I watched Caesar. He was gathered with a few of his club members, no doubt accounting for their losses. He had so many people willing to throw themselves into the breach for him. Maybe if things had been different I would have been the same way.

He seemed alright so I wouldn't approach. I was sure he lost more than one of his club members.

Instead, I said, “I’m thirsty.”

And I walked away from the battlefield. I was feeling strangely numb. The danger was over, gone. But I wasn’t a shaking mess like I had been after the party just a few days ago.

I checked my phone. I had a message from Johann. I responded that I was okay. And that I was happy he was okay too.

Lu retrieved a cola from a vending machine for me. We sat in silence on a bench. I was feeling a little more now. The image of Lu, shining bright, had stuck in my head, the words of the dragon regarding him we're pure admiration, whereas towards me, they were anything but adoring.

He looked over at me and I realized I was staring.

"What is it?"

"If I told you, you'd get upset."

I may have stirred the dragon but it didn't wake up for me.

#Lu Mingfei #Luminous #Johann Chu #Caesar #Nono #Anjou #dragon Raja #Fanfiction #writing

8 notes · View notes

softjeon · 5 years

Text

Drown in me | Pt. 4

• Pairing: Pirate!Yoongi x Siren!Jungkook • Genre: Angst, Fluff | Pirate!AU / Siren!AU ( → Gifset Trailer) • Words: 12,2k • Disclaimer: mentioning of blood, alcohol, abuse, nsfw content

written with @cassiavioletblue

↳ “When I sing…people do weird things. Strange things happen.” Yoongi laughed awkwardly but stopped right away when he realized that Jungkook was serious about what he had said. This wasn’t a scared little boy trying to make use of some fairytale to scare the captain of the ship he’s been brought on into submission. He believed what he said.

« previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter »

A crashing sound made Yoongi flinch and he was on his feet before being fully awake, dagger in hand. He swayed a little on his feet, but he was still ready to take on every attacker that came his way even though he was narrowing his eyes sleepily, trying to refocus and understand what was happening. There weren’t any attackers in his room - but there was something happening on the ship.

He could feel it. Even without any further suspicious sounds he knew that something was off.

Quickly Yoongi got dressed, not out of modesty but because a layer or two of clothes could make the difference between getting a scratch and bleeding out from a stab wound in case someone really went for him. Then he sneaked out the door. A part of his mind was screaming at him, about how he was in danger, his crew members, the ship - and most of all that Jungkook that was absent. But he ignored what it could mean or what could have happened in favor of focusing and getting to know what the hell was going on. Freaking out wouldn’t make anything better right now - it was more important to get whoever was there off of his ship!

Preferably dead.

Jimin and Taehyung stumbled upon the captain in the hallway. “It’s the Nightmares,” Namjoon rushed across them, his eyes narrowed in concentration, “They fucking robbed us.” Jimin got out his gun, while Taehyung held both of his daggers tightly, his eyes focused on the footsteps coming from above. Yoongi nodded a silent order, all of them running upstairs, just in time to see the last girl salute them teasingly, jumping down on the boat to get back to their ship. The fog had been cleared and the sun was rising tinting the ocean a beautiful color and if it wasn’t for the irony of the situation Yoongi would have loved to just sit down and enjoy it.

“Thank you for your lovely gifts, Black! It’s always so nice when you come and visit us!” Jiu spoke loudly so the other could still hear him and when she stepped away, Yoongi had the perfect view to see Jungkook struggling against the women’s hold.

Yoongi lost it, right then and there, doing the most stupid thing he could: He forgot caution, running after them until his body hit the railing, proving to them that they had something valuable, that they hurt him, that it would hurt him even more if they kept their living ‘price’. Namjoon’s grip on his shoulder pulled him back and he snarled like a dog, not at Namjoon; at the situation, at his stupid helplessness, his stupidity in general, why hadn’t he sailed faster or put up more guards or stayed awake himself because now they had Jungkook and... like ice the realization slowly sunk in and filled up his veins until he was shuddering from the cold.

They had Jungkook.

His pretty little siren who had endured enough abuse for a lifetime and had finally opened up to him. Who was so soft, so gentle and had trusted him to keep him safe. He kicked the railing, screaming out his anger and desperation until it got swallowed by the waves.

“Oh,” Jiu cocked up her eyebrows, leaning over the railing with a smirk, “You like that boy, don’t you? And I thought he was a present for us? We have our needs, too, Black.” She walked along the railing, trailing her hand across the wood just to make a show out of it, while the girls were laughing at the Black Crew. “What do you say? Will he be a good boy for me?”

He wanted to yell at her, cuss and tell her that if she did so much as harm a hair on his head that he’d come for them and burn them down - though the more he would show his emotions the more fun it would be for them to actually hurt Kook. Keeping his emotions in check and tuning it down until he could breathe a little more regularly took its toll and he was shaking while he gripped the railing so tightly that his knuckles turned white - but the pirates wouldn’t see that. They’d only hear his voice. So, he took everything he had to keep his voice stable, hoping that maybe, somehow mocking them or playing it off would make them give Jungkook back. And even if it didn’t it would buy his men time to take their own tender boat and try to catch them to get back what the others had stolen. He didn’t care for the gold or the jewelry or anything they might have gotten though - besides Jungkook and the map on his back.

“If you like second-hand presents then you can have him. And he will be good cause I trained him well. So have fun with a broken doll. You couldn’t handle someone with a defiant spirit and a real challenge anyway.” He tried to calculate in his head how quickly he’d have to jump overboard to safe Jungkook in case they threw him overboard to keep the boy from drowning, his heartbeat so loud in his ears that it almost drowned out everything else.

It was too much fun for the Nightmare Crew, riling Yoongi up, seeing the pirate so desperate, when they had something valuable to him. Jungkook’s heart was beating fast, his eyes stayed on Yoongi, while their hold was tight around his arms. His heart broke at his words, he could almost hear it shatter. Did he mean it? Was he just playing with them?

Jungkook whined helplessly, as they pulled him back and against the mast, wanting to tie him down. “Oh, believe me, I know my ways to handle defiance. I hope he likes it rough.” Jiu laughed and with her the whole crew. The moment of inobservance where they were all laughing, Jungkook kept writhing trying to push the cloth out of his mouth. He felt it loosened, just a little bit, and it had been enough to push it down his chin.

And then he screamed.

Jungkook didn’t know what came over him or what made his powers strengthen again. He panicked. Completely freaked out. And the second he screamed; a deafening, inhuman screech came from him. It all happened in a matter of seconds.

The moment the sound reached them, they clamped their hands over their ears tightly, screaming and writhing in pain. Their eyes were wide in fear as they realized that the boy in front of them wasn’t just any other normal human, he had been a siren. A deadly one at that. Only now it was too late to consider their actions. Blood was oozing out of their ears, the pain letting one by one drop unconscious. Jungkook didn’t stop screaming until they let go off him and until his voice was cracking, and he fell onto his knees.

Yoongi froze completely, his grip on the railing so tight he simply couldn’t let go. Left and right from him his men went down, shielding their ears, screaming in pain - but none of them started bleeding like the crew of the nightmare did. Jungkook’s scream hit him like a wave of pure terror that shook him to his core, rattling his bones and filling him with dread until there was nothing else left but this. There was wetness on his face and Yoongi only realized that they were silent tears when Jungkook stopped screaming.

His crew got up on their feet, one by one, still a little dazed, a little weak, some swaying so that they had to hold onto something for safety. Yoongi was different though. When he heard Jungkook’s voice crack something inside of him splintered and there was just one thought left inside of him: Save Jungkook.

He didn’t care about himself, about how he could drown or get shot by the nightmares or that Jungkook might scream again and hit him with his voice full on like he had done to the people that had tried to tie him up. He just jumped overboard, right into the cold water that tried to drag him down because he wore his jacket, his boots and everything he still had on his body. It didn’t matter, he just went for the other ship, ignoring the panicked yells of his own crew or the sound of the water sloshing around him. He didn’t even think of the tender boat he owned, the only thing on his mind was ‘Jungkook’.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he registered that this wasn’t normal behaviour, that Jungkook’s scream must have reached him too in a way but it faded out while he was swimming, quickly getting closer to the ship.

The sound of Jungkook’s breathing was clipped off, like he didn’t get enough air into his lungs. Jungkook gulped, trying to take another deep breath but failed. He was lost in his panic as he tried to get up, slipping and falling back onto his knees once. The color left his face completely, his mind screaming at him to get away from the ship as fast as he could. Jungkook hadn’t registered that Yoongi had jumped into the water, so he tried to get closer to the railing. His vision got blurry, the dizziness making him sway dangerously as he came to a halt at the edge of the ship.

Yoongi saw Jungkook standing on deck of the other ship, dangerously close to the railing. He thought the other wanted to help him on deck so that they could steal back their stuff or check on Jungkook right away. Instead Yoongi’s heart missed a beat when Jungkook’s form slumped forward, collapsing as if someone let the air out of a balloon. The siren tilted over and then dropped right into the ocean with a splash, sinking like a stone. Yoongi could see him over the water for about half a second before he was gone and he panicked, swimming faster even though his muscles ached painfully, and his lungs were burning. But he would not lose Jungkook to the sea.

The younger might be a creature of water - but he was still Yoongi’s and the pirate would not give him up.

“Stop standing there like idiots!” Namjoon screamed and effectively got the crew to move. Hoseok ran up to the steering wheel, they pulled in the anchor, while Taehyung let down their own ship boats with Jimin inside, paddling as fast as possible to get closer to Yoongi. Jimin’s eyes were flickering around as he tried to spot his captain, but the moment he had dived down, there was nothing he could see but the black sea.

The cold water was piercing through Jungkook like a million needles, the pain waking him up and Jungkook screamed involuntarily, inhaling the water. He was choking painfully, struggling against the vortex that seemed to pull him under, reaching out his arms to try and hold onto something. Anything. The saltwater was burning down his lungs and for a moment, just a small moment, Jungkook thought that this was it. That the sea would take him back and his life had been over. It was the exact moment something wrapped around his wrist and pulled him closer. Jungkook blinked his eyes, but he didn’t keep up a fight. He couldn’t breathe. Instead he let himself get dragged along with whomever got him and only when he suddenly could feel air again and a steady hold around his waist keeping him over water, did Jungkook realize that someone had saved him. He coughed up water painfully, when another pair of hands grabbed him tightly to pull him up the boat.

“I got him! I got him!” Jimin patted Jungkook’s white cheeks, his own voiced laced with panic, “Why couldn’t he breathe? Isn’t he a siren? He’s supposed to breathe underwater. Why isn't he breathing?”

As soon as Jungkook was safely on the boat, still coughing up water but showing no other signs of damage the strength seemed to vanish from Yoongi's limbs. It was as if someone had put the regulator from survival mode back to ‘normal human limits’ and because he had exhausted his bodies’ strength before it took a toll on him now. He needed help to get back on the boat as well and though he normally would have rather drowned than showed weakness he now didn’t mind at all. Jungkook was safe. His crew was still alive. His ship was still functioning and still his own…. they would be fine. He had no idea if the nightmares were that lucky as well.

“Let’s hurry and leave those waters behind,” He ordered tiredly and then left it to the others to row the boat back to the ship. He leaned over Jungkook who blinked at him with a dazed expression, only barely realizing what was happening. “Hello fish boy,” He teased him slightly while the adrenaline leaving his body had him shivering.

Jungkook could barely make out Yoongi, blinking his eyes as they burned from all the saltwater. With shaking hands, he tried to reach out for him, trying to see if he was really there and not an imagination. When he touched him, Yoongi’s skin was ice cold, making him shiver. “’m sorry,” He coughed, his vocal cords sounding roughened up from the forceful gulps of saltwater. Jungkook wasn’t sure what he was apologizing for. Maybe for everything, for getting up without asking, for using his siren powers again when he promised that he wouldn’t and for being so god damn weak.

“Yeah, you should be.” Yoongi gripped his hand tightly to show him that he was there, that Jungkook was safe because Yoongi would do everything in his power to keep him from being abducted again, “Giving me a heart attack like that.. Next time you plan on dropping into the sea like a stone please give me a warning first so that I can take a net and catch you. You know like a mermaid. Or a fish. My pretty, dumb little fishy who thought that he could get away from me like that.” His voice got soft, “I won’t let you, just so you know. And not even a ship full of pirates abducting you will make me let you go.”

Jimin was eyeing his captain from the side, the softness of his voice startling him. He never heard Yoongi speak like that, not during all the time he had been here, not even to Namjoon who he’d known the longest. Yoongi was ruthless, rough and strict. Jimin gasped when he realized why the other was acting like this and he quickly bit his lip to keep from commenting.

Jungkook smiled faintly, trying to sit up carefully with Yoongi’s help. “What you said isn’t true?” His voice sounded off, a little too croaky and not at all melodic like one expected from a siren, “That I am broken? You still want to keep me? I don’t know what I did again. I don’t know what happened. I’m dangerous.” Jungkook gulped, a painful ache in his throat.

“Of course, I didn’t. But I figured if they know how important you are to our quest then they’ll kill you for sure so I was hoping to maybe convince them of letting you go or at least buy us some time so that we could figure out how to get you back. I would have never left you behind. Pirates are said to be cowards, but no man gets left behind. That’s why we’re pirates. Because we have our own rules.“ He gently brushed a hand through Jungkook’s wet hair. “You don’t have to worry your pretty little head about that. Go to sleep now we both know you need it. And then we’ll figure it out together tomorrow, when you feel better.” Jungkook just nodded at that, letting Yoongi and Jimin help him back up the ship and down to captain's cabin, while the crew members were gathering the stolen goods from the Nightmare and got back on course, leaving the girls alone to figure their faith out.

“D-did I kill them?” Jungkook hadn’t said anything the past thirty minutes, too weak to even get back under deck, but now that he was in bed, taking a few sips from the water Yoongi was holding for him, he felt a lot better already. “What happened? Yoongi, I don’t know what happened.” Jungkook leaned his head against the pirate’s shoulder, closing his eyes for a moment. Yoongi slowly let him lay down, making sure he was leaning comfortably against a pillow, but Jungkook held him back one last time. “If I turn into a monster, please kill me before I kill anyone. Please, promise me that.”

“What did I just tell you about not worrying?” He tapped Jungkook lightly on the nose but the horror in the boys eyes couldn’t be joked away, so he sat down for a moment.

“Jungkook. You are not a monster. And you won’t turn into one. They hurt you so you defended yourself. I can’t say what the effects will be or what exactly you did but I can tell you that it didn’t look like you killed them on the spot. I rather think they fainted. Maybe from your voice, maybe from pain.” He wasn’t sugarcoating anything because he didn’t see a point. Jungkook wanted honesty so he’d give him what he needed, “Nonetheless they should wake up again. And whatever you did they brought it upon themselves. They shouldn't have taken you. Then nothing would have happened. Simple as that. Now, are you going to do what I asked you to and rest until you’re not quite resembling a water corpse any longer, please?” Jungkook held onto Yoongi’s hand tightly and only when the younger was dead asleep could the captain get up and look after his crew.

“We got everything back and a little bit more,” Namjoon had his arms crossed in front of his chest, leaning against the banister, “Are you sure you are okay? You should let your ears get checked by Jin or something. The others all did, but we weren’t harmed. It just hurt like hell.”

Yoongi shook his head, “No, I don’t need to get checked. It didn’t even hurt. It just pulled me towards him. Maybe it had a different effect on me because I’m used to his presence or because we were intimate. I’ll ask him when he’s back up on his feet.” Yoongi looked around nervously, afraid that the nightmares would be up and against them soon - now even more furious than before. They were a serious threat even without having been hurt and angered. “Is this the fastest we can go?”

Namjoon cocked up an eyebrow in interest, “Oh, really?” Narrowing his eyes, he tipped a finger on his chin, a habit he developed over time when he was thinking about something. “It wasn’t coincidentally the night before this?” Namjoon smirked smugly. Yoongi’s eyes narrowed, “Why are you interested in when I’m fucking him? You planning on joining us or what?”

“Oh, no please…you know Jungkook is not my type. But that night, Jimin woke up and he was acting a bit strangely…but sensually strange you know.” Namjoon licked over his lips, watching his boyfriend walk up the ladder to his look out. “It was the best goddamn sex I’ve ever had. And Hoseok told me the same…he woke up to Taehyung kissing him and you know our boy. He would never do such a thing. Not like this at least…and when I asked the rest of the crew.” Namjoon shrugged his shoulders, amusement written all over his face, “It’s like for a moment everyone went completely nuts and went after their deepest sexual desires. Do you have an explanation for that?”

Yoongi’s expression slipped a little as he thought about his crew going for it because of Jungkook’s voice - could that really be it? That the siren’s voice had pulled his men down with him into the pits of secret desires and sexual fantasies? He definitely needed to ask him! Who knew what else Jungkook had done with his voice without him realizing it. “Uhm, that's.. interesting. I’ll keep that in mind,” He answered cluelessly, trying not to let the mental images take over.

“You should keep that in mind next time,” Namjoon chuckled low. “And to answer your previous question: yes, we’re already going as fast as we could. Unfortunately, we can’t use the wind, as it’s pretty calm today.” Namjoon motioned for Hoseok to make sure to speed up anyways, before he returned to the captain. Trying to be subtle, he looked over the sea instead of Yoongi, speaking softly. “Jimin told me how good you were with the siren. How you talked to him.” With a smile he added, “If I didn’t know you better I’d say you took a liking in him.”

Yoongi went stiff immediately. His mask slipped for a few seconds and people noticed right away - this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He was as fearless and heartless as a proper pirate captain needed to be. “I don’t know why you’re surprised I’m good at talking to people. I’m the captain of a crew. I’m talking all the time. And who said anything about liking, He is important to me, yes. Because of the quest. We all want that gold, don’t we? We should keep him around till we have it. Who knows what else we’ll need him for.”

Namjoon couldn’t help but smile. He knew Yoongi inside out, they had been childhood friends – it wasn’t easy for the captain to hide something from him. “Yes, maybe you, I mean we, need him still.” He winked at Yoongi before walking ahead, “Then do your talking, keep the crew motivated until we arrive. Maybe a few days until we’re there.” At the door leading under deck Namjoon stilled again, “I’m really interested to see what the mirror will show you.”

“Who knows if there even is a mirror. It might just be a legend and then it turns out the ‘mirror’ was the sea all along because you can use it as a mirror when it’s calm and the sea can be anything you want her to be.” Yoongi was snappy because Namjoon treated him as if he knew better than his captain or saw through him when there wasn’t anything to see through! He wasn’t lying he was perfectly in control here! Even if he liked Jungkook the younger had his own ideas of freedom so their lives wouldn’t match for long which meant it would be utterly stupid to fall for him now. Apart from the fact that falling in love with anyone was pure stupidity in general.

Weakness wasn’t something you needed on a ship no matter the source.

He ignored the other for the rest of the day and instead concentrated on his captain duties. It felt way too long since the last time he had been with his crew instead of Jungkook. Yoongi made sure they were well and taken care of, using his abilities to talk and explain it all to a few of the crew, what had happened and what they might be facing. All of them seemed eager to outrun the pirates of the Nightmare, ready to finally finish the adventure and find the magical treasure.

They were speculating, talking about what each of them would see if they took a look inside and how their reflection would be like. Would it show them the future? Would it bring them the answers they were yearning for? They were hopeful, gleaming with the passion of a pirate to find something no one else had been able to before. And Namjoon wasn’t sure how many times he had told the story of the mirror of chéngquán by now. They just wanted to hear about it one more time.

Jungkook on the other hand, had been getting a lot quieter. It seemed as if he was stuck in his own head, worrying too much - about himself, Yoongi and whatever he was turning into. He was mindlessly playing with Yoongi’s feather pen, staring outside of the bullseye. What had happened hadn’t changed their habits, every day and every night, he still fell asleep next to the captain.

Except for this night.

Yoongi needed the stars to lead him the way. They were close, he knew it. He held on tightly to the map, ushering Taehyung to hold the lantern a little closer over the piece of paper. “Follow the Polaris,” Yoongi mumbled, his eyes searching the night sky, hearing an affirmative grunt from Hoseok who turned the wheel to follow the new instructions.

“It seems like we’re going in circles.” Namjoon yawned, before calling out for Jimin up on his look-out, “Do you see anything?”

“N-not really, it’s just dark and foggy,” Jimin called out, sighing deeply. He took the binoculars again and stared through it, trying to find anything that would give them a hint on where to go. “There’s nothing but black sea...and waves...and seagulls?” Jimin stopped, returning his gaze to where he saw the birds and screamed out in happiness, “There are seagulls! We must be close to something!” And indeed, when the fog cleared up, cliffs loomed from under the sea, seemingly growing stronger and taller the closer they got. The strait was dangerously narrow and Hoseok slowed down as much as he could until they couldn’t go any further. “I think it’s best if we anchor right here and get the boats to go ahead. We won’t be able to go further into the strait.” Namjoon quickly nodded, ushering Taehyung on to help him set the ship’s boat. “We can wake the others and explore everything tomorrow morning, but a little peek tonight doesn’t harm right?” They all had a smile on their face, their hearts beating fast, when they could hear the waves crashing against the cliffs. The navigator patted the captain on his shoulder and then sniffed the air dramatically. “Can you smell that?” Hoseok turned to Yoongi and chuckled, “It smells like there’s a treasure ahead of us. And I don’t mean the one sleeping in your bed right now.”

“If you continue to talk to your captain like that then the next ‘treasure’ in my cabin will either be your part of the island treasure that you won’t get for disrespecting me - or Taehyung. And you want neither of that.” His smile turned a little cruel. He’d never do that to Taehyung but hopefully the mention alone would be enough to shut Hoseok up. He was tense. He couldn’t handle stabs at his relationship with Jungkook right now. Yoongi stepped closer to the railing to see a little further. He was trembling from desire, a burning need, to explore, go on land, find what he had been looking for.

They were close.

He could feel it, taste it in the air.

Hoseok mumbled something inaudible let down the ladder to the ship's boat, “There you go. Captain’s first.” Everyone was going one by one, fitting themselves in the small boat to get closer to the cliff. It was quiet. None of them said a word, climbing up the stone until they reached a ledge, where they pulled themselves up. “Here,” Namjoon held out the lantern for Yoongi and then took Jimin’s hand instead, following their captain further into the dark cave.

Nothing felt as exciting as being so close to finding a treasure that you knew you could stumble upon it at any second, the anticipation sweet and bubbly. There must be an entry to get further into the cave, a way that would lead to the hidden treasure. Yoongi used the lantern to take a look around but there were just cliffs allover as if they were on top of a massive furrowed stone. Yoongi shook the annoyance off. Of course, the entry couldn’t be obvious that’s why no one had found it yet. They were called ‘hidden’ treasures for a reason.

“Did you ask the boy?” Hoseok furrowed his brows, his hands searching the cold stone for an entrance, for a hidden something – anything, that would show them the way to the treasure. “Maybe we sailed the wrong direction?” Jimin asked warily, shivering from the cold, holding onto the lantern while the others were searching. “Or you read the map wrong?” Namjoon added with a shrug of his shoulders, mimicking Hoseok as he searched the other side of the cave. They were restless, searching every corner, turning every stone but there was no symbol nor anything else giving away how to get into the cave.

Taehyung had leaned against the cold stone, watching the other pirates, yawning tiredly. “It’s a pity we can’t remember what the boy is singing each time. Siren songs are supposed to be prophetic right? Maybe he knows the way.” He looked at Namjoon, waiting for his approval, before he added, “Why are we searching for a siren treasure anyways without the siren?”

Yoongi didn’t answer that as of course they didn’t sail the wrong direction and he had read the map just fine and if Jungkook had told him anything of importance he would have told them already. Only Taehyung was worth his full attention as the younger had a point.

He sighed deeply, knowing that running around a few more times wouldn’t make an entrance appear. Maybe it was under water. Or they were overlooking something. He needed Jungkook here. Maybe the younger would know what to do. He had to!

Jungkook turned in his sleep, pulling the cushion closer into his arms. He had been aware that Yoongi would come late to bed or not at all. He knew about the night navigation. What he didn’t knew was, that now six pirates were storming down the steps and under deck and towards the captain’s cabin, opening the door in a rush. It slammed right into the wall with a loud noise, making Jungkook sat up straight in fear. His heart was beating so fast, that he clutched his chest in panic and his eyes were wide in shock. When his gaze fell onto the familiar faces though, Jungkook groaned and let himself fall back onto the bed in relief.

“No! Don’t go back to sleep!” Taehyung reached out for Kook and shook him lightly, thinking the younger was planning on ignoring them for the sake of getting a few more hours of sleep. However, what he hadn’t taken into consideration was the fact that Jungkook was curious as hell - and that he wanted to take a peek at the mirror himself. Instead he tried to bribe him with something else. “We need you on land or at least we think we do. But if you can help us and we find the treasure, that would be amazing. You could even choose the most beautiful shell of my collection as reward if you want.” He smiled at him conspiratorially.

Jungkook shook his head softly and sat up. “Don’t worry Tae. I don’t want to take away anything from your collection. I will help you of course, as much as I can.” The younger could see that it was still night outside and he wondered how many hours he had slept. Judging by the way he had jerked up so harshly; he’d still been dead asleep. He looked at all of them thoroughly and then his gaze stopped at Yoongi’s, “What do you need me for?”

“I need you to sing. On the island,” He stated their collective thought as if it was nothing while he knew that it would be dangerous to ask the siren for a song Especially considering what their last encounter with a siren song had been like; ending with lots of blood and injured pirates. Jungkook looked at him as if he doubted his ears or Yoongi’s ability to think straight and Yoongi couldn’t even blame him.

“Wh-what?” Jungkook shook his head. He was too tired to understand what Yoongi was talking about. “Why? Why do you need me to sing? Yoongi, you know I don’t want to. N-not,” His voice turned quieter, not even realizing he had been using his real name in front of the others, “Not after what happened. I don’t want to hurt you. Any of you.”

Yoongi shook his head. “No, not one of your defensive songs. Or the lullabies. It’s the island. There’s no entry. And we couldn’t find any hint on where to go from there. But I knew that this is the spot as the stars align perfectly with the map and... Taehyung reminded me that the whole quest has been built around the sirens so maybe the entry is too. Maybe your singing will show us a hint. Maybe there’ll be an echo that can show us where the entry is or maybe you’ll bewitch the animals that inhabit the island who will show us the way.“ One idea sounded stranger than the other, but the truth was he had no idea what to do now. So, Tae’s guess was as good as any other.

Confusion was written all over Jungkook’s face, “The animals?” He raised an eyebrow, chuckling quietly at Yoongi’s desperate wishes. The pirate really wanted the treasure, he could feel it, see it in his nervous behaviour and the way his eyes were almost begging Jungkook to help him. “I don’t know if I can help with that,” Jungkook got up nonetheless, “The songs just come to me. Like an early memory that you can only remember in the moment itself, but never if you want to, you know?” He bit his lip nervously, “What if I can’t control it again and it hurts someone?”

“We’ll cover our ears. Or if you want to be totally safe then it could be just you and me. We did this before, remember? So, you can sing whatever your heart tells you to and even if it’s strong enough to bewitch sailors and shatter stone then I’ll still be safe because I won’t be able to hear it. We went all the way here to find the treasure and now that we have found it there must be a way in! I know we’re in the right spot and... think about what had to happen for us to be able to go there! I don’t know if there are other sirens with maps on their backs but I very much doubt that they got caught by humans considering how strong you are so a full siren must be impossible to catch! Which would mean that we are the first or at least not one of many to go there! There must be something here! If it’s the mirror or something else that created the mirror’s legend either way I’m sure it’ll be fascinating. Please, Jungkook, help us with this! Make the cave let us in!”

Jungkook bit his lip, reaching out for the captain's hand in a nervous habit. “Okay, I will try,“ Jungkook answered with a determined nod, trying to cover up his nervousness. “Just please cover your ears.“ He looked around at each one of them and motioned for Taehyung to show them the way.

They went along staying close together in a small group. With the concentrated look on their faces you could see from afar that they were up to something important. As they had no idea where exactly the entrance was they just climbed up to the very first rock that was big enough to hold them all on the same level and then as promised shielded their ears. Yoongi had ditched the wax to cover his ears just like the others were doing this time. It might be less safe, but he didn’t want to waste precious second getting the wax out of his ears when the cave had been opened. He was buzzing with nervous energy because even though he had no idea what exactly would happen right now he definitely knew that there was something on this island, something important that wanted to be found.

Jungkook looked up at the cliff, then around, seeing the waves crashing against the stone at the side of it. It was beautiful and haunting at the same time. He waited for everyone to cover their ears and walked up closer to the edge, letting his hand soothe over the rough edges of the stone. The air tasted salty and Jungkook took a deep breath. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do. Of course, Yoongi wanted him to sing, but he had no idea what would lead them to the treasure or how exactly to open the cave. So Jungkook simply tried to trusts his instincts, the part of him that was siren and would sense those kind of things.

Jungkook started singing which Yoongi could only see from the way the younger opened his mouth and changed his breathing. He heard nothing. But he also felt nothing. And saw nothing. Nothing that was changing at least. They were still on the same island, alone, close to a cave that they couldn’t enter. He was so disappointed that he almost accidentally dropped his hands, just to flinch and close them even tighter around his ears when he realized his mistake. What would they do when this wasn’t the answer? When even letting Jungkook sing wouldn’t make a difference? How should he tell his men that they sailed out here for nothing and that keeping Jungkook around had been nothing but his personal pleasure?

Jungkook on the other hand, who thought that there was nothing either suddenly could feel a warmth spread through his hand at the end of his song, the cold stone under his palm seemingly warming up as if it had a sudden heartbeat and was coming alive under his touch. His eyes widened and he gasped, flinching away from the stone as he stopped singing immediately. It tore him right out of his hypnotic state, making him waver a little and almost slip on the wet rocks beneath his feet. Yoongi saw Jungkook waver and even though it was utterly stupid he reacted instinctively, letting go of his ears to catch the boy if necessary, leaving himself completely unprotected. Luckily for him Jungkook had stopped singing the moment he had lost balance, so he didn’t fell under his trance or asleep or split open or whatever Jungkook’s song was capable of doing to humans.

Staring up at the cliff, Jungkook gulped heavily. His heart was pumping fast when the young siren reached out for the cold wall again, this time a different place to feel it pulsate under his skin again. It was like a song, a voice so clear that was luring him in further and still – nothing more. The sturdy wall of stone was still between them and Jungkook had no idea how to get through.

“Yoongi,” Jungkook whispered breathlessly, gazing up at the opening of the cave. He quickly estimated if he could climb it easily or would break all of his bones if he’d slip and fall. “I can feel it. It’s here.” The siren’s whisper was so in awe that it had goosebumps rising on Yoongi’s skin and the pirate stepped closer. “What is it? How can we get in? Is it… the treasure? Is that what you are feeling?”

Jungkook shrugged his shoulders, shivering from the cold air. “I don’t know actually.” He turned to look at Yoongi with his eyes sparkling in the moonlight, “I was singing, and the stone turned warm out of a sudden, like it had a heartbeat. I heard someone sing. I am not sure. I don’t know. I have no idea how to get in…but I am sure it’s in there.”

Jungkook’s happiness was contagious so Yoongi couldn’t help but smile back at him even though this wasn’t what he had wanted to hear. “So... that’s great news. Except for the part where we still don’t know how to get in.” He motioned for his men to put their hands away from their ears and listen to him. “Good news first: The treasure is in there.” He didn’t mention that Jungkook had felt it through the stone because there was no reason to freak them out even more, “The bad news is that we still don’t know how to get in. There is no reason for you to stay out here when you could catch up on some sleep on the ship. Jungkook and I will try to figure out what will make us able to actually reach the treasure and take it with us and till then you are free to spend your time however you want.”

Jungkook looked at the retreating bodies, rubbing his hands over his arms to keep himself warm. He really would rather just go back to sleep as well, but he had promised to help Yoongi – so he would. His teeth were clattering from the cold and Jungkook pointed up at the cave, “Can we go up there? I just want to see if I feel it there, too.” When the captain nodded, Jungkook climbed up the few stones, pulling himself up over the ledge and held out his hand for Yoongi as well. He motioned for him to cover his ears once more, checking if the others were already back at the ship and then started singing quietly. He held his hand against the wall, walking around and letting it soothe over the rough surface while he felt the warmth on his fingertips. Turning around, he reached for Yoongi’s hands as he stopped singing and put the pirate’s palm into his hand to make him feel it too. “That’s all I’m feeling.”

Yoongi furrowed his brows. “If it’s just warmth then could it be spots that the sun had reached before? Or maybe there are hot springs on the island who warm the stone from the inside out?” His hope started slowly crumbling Even if the treasure was really there it wouldn’t matter if they couldn’t get to it. If he had known where exactly it was he might find a way in…

“Jungkook can you tell me where exactly this treasure is? Maybe I still have something on board to blow things up with.”

Jungkook shook his head furiously, “No! Are you crazy? You will…you will destroy everything. It’s here, I can feel it!” Jungkook took Yoongi’s wrist and pulled him closer to the wall, close enough that he could cover one of his ears and take his hand and place it on the wall with his own on top. “Just cover the other, okay?” He ordered, concentrating on their hands. Then he sang again, hoping that with the help of his touch, the pirate could feel not only the warmth but also the liveliness that felt like a heartbeat, too.

Jungkook was getting desperate.

Yoongi couldn’t hear whatever Jungkook was hearing. But as he had been giving no real warning that the younger was about to start singing again he hadn’t covered his ears properly and so instead of hearing the stone he heard…

Jungkook.

It hit him, like a blow right in the gut when he realized that he was listening unprotected to a siren right now. His mouth opened in awe, fingers trembling as he let go of his fear completely, just staring at Jungkook. He could hear him. He was listening to him and he wasn’t dying, and his voice sounded amazing! It was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard, as haunting as the waves, soft when it needed to be and pulling at his very core in just the right places. He shuddered violently, then he took Jungkook’s face in his and kissed the song right from his lips.

The younger stopped singing the moment Yoongi’s lips crashed onto his and he realized with a heavy heart that the pirate hadn’t had his ears covered properly. He was under a spell. His spell – reacting to whatever Jungkook had been singing about, maybe even luring him into his death.

“Yoongi! No!” Jungkook pushed him off his lips, trying to think at the top of his head how to get the pirate back to his senses. Reacting on instinct, he slapped Yoongi’s cheek. “Please, come back, please, please, please,” Jungkook was begging, shaking the pirate by his shoulders, ready to use all of his strength to keep Yoongi from jumping into the ocean.

“Ow!” Yoongi rubbed his jaw where Jungkook had slapped him with full force. “I didn’t know you thought I was that bad at kissing. You didn’t have to hit me though. I can definitely change with practice. Lots of practice.” He got serious again, trying to get back to where they had left off but Jungkook still acted in panic and so Yoongi sighed deeply.

“Jungkook. I’m not bewitched. Or at least I don’t think I am. Wait, how would one even be able to find that out? I mean I like you a lot but that’s what I always feel for…” His eyes widened when he realized his mistake, “I mean I was always kind of under your spell. You just have that effect on people, right? What I meant to say was that I’m not more under your spell than usual. Your voice just sounded so amazing that I wanted to kiss you. I maybe should have considered giving you a warning first and not startle you like that. Are you okay?”

Now Jungkook was the one who wanted to jump off the cliff. He paled visibly.

“But y-you heard me sing. No, this can’t be it…it can’t be that,” Jungkook stumbled back, staring back at Yoongi who was moving his jaw to see if it hurt from the slap, a cocky smile still on his lips. “I…think it’s best if we…if I,” Jungkook stuttered not being able to tear his gaze from Yoongi, before he turned around and ran out of the cave. And because there was only one boat left to return to the ship, Jungkook took the easy way out, climbing down the cliff and jumping right into the cold ocean. His body always got used to the temperatures easily and it felt only right to let the water swallow him and just swim back. It was like he needed the moment to think underwater.

There was only one explanation for this.

Jungkook had never heard of people being so much under a sirens spell that they could hear what they were singing about without falling deeper into their trap. They were either hypnotized every time or not. There was no in-between.

“J.. Jungkook?” Yoongi had barely time to react before the younger ran, fleeing from him as if he had threatened him with something. Carefully he thought over what he had said but couldn’t find anything that would explain that kind of reaction. The only thing that made sense was that either Jungkook was scared that Yoongi would hurt him out of revenge for almost being bewitched (it had been his own fault though and Yoongi had thought that Kook knew by now that he didn’t have to fear him) or he didn’t believe him that he hadn’t fallen for the magic in his voice and was afraid of what would happen or what he would do to Kook in his magic induced haze.

Jungkook gasped when he came back up, reaching for the ladder that hung off the ship’s side to climb up and over the reeling, running back under deck. Here he was starting to shiver, the wet clothes sticking to his body, a pool of saltwater forming at his feet. “I love him,” Jungkook whispered to himself, shaking his head as if he declared himself as completely gone crazy now. But only love had the ability to keep someone safe from a siren’s magic.

True love.

Yoongi sighed deeply and then started walking back towards the ship. As it seemed the treasure would have to wait. First he would have to calm down a scared little siren that was probably hiding under deck. Hopefully. There was a painful stab in his chest at the thought of Jungkook just swimming away to one of the other islands around here, getting away from him so that Yoongi could never see his beautiful smile again.

Jungkook was a shivering mess, trying to get out of his wet clothes and into dry ones instead. The fear had installed itself into his heart, the worries circling around in his head that it was impossible not to listen to them. He had been so stupid to fall for a pirate, for someone who was just interested in him because he was a mysterious creature - nothing more. He was sure of that. Tears were slowly falling down his cheeks and Jungkook wiped them away angrily. He just wanted to see that mirror, to know the answers to all of his questions - that was all. Jungkook sunk down on the floor, leaning his head against the wall as he closed his eyes. He couldn’t be in love, he just couldn’t. Because if there was one thing that could kill a siren, then it was unrequited love. Everyone knew that.

When Yoongi reached the ship there was no siren in sight and with a heavy heart he went under deck and into bis cabin. The relief only lasted for so long as it took for him to see the tears on the younger's face and the way he was shivering. He had only half changed his clothes, wearing his sleeping pants and a thin undershirt with nothing over it.

"Jungkook?" He softly knocked against the doorframe once to get the boys attention. He didn't want to startle him any further than he already had. The siren looked miserable and Yoongi ached for him. He might have even considered giving him a hug if he hadn't been so sure that close proximity was the last thing the boy would want from him right now. "You don't need to be scared; I am not bewitched. Really, there's nothing!" The boy sniffled and Yoongi reached out for him, letting his hand fall back to his side when he remembered that he was the problem here.

"It's okay, pretty. I don't think you tried to sing to me on purpose. I know you are way too gentle for that. And if you are afraid that I'll punish you for that slap - I won't. I can take a little slap once in a while..." He wasn't sure if his attempt at bringing some humor into this had worked because Jungkook didn't smile or stop crying, "...and I know why you did it. This alone would be enough proof for me that you are not a danger to me. You wanted to shake me out of it right away, before you could even think about it properly. I'm not scared of you any longer. And you shouldn't be of me either."

When Jungkook didn't seem to react much to it, he continued, telling him what the boy apparently needed to hear, "Also if this is about the cave and the way in then I know what you might be thinking. Yes, this treasure is important to me. A lot. But if you won't manage to find a way in through your powers then it is not your fault! I won't hold you responsible for it or hurt you or... or kill you. I had hoped that you knew by now that you don't have to fear for your life any longer. Some of the other sailors might still be wary about you but you are safe with me. Always. Just as you are with Namjoon and Tae. They won't let anything happen to you. Please, Jungkook. You can trust me. Just like I trust you!" His voice was barely a whisper at the end as he reached out for him after all, touching his face as gently as he could to wipe away the tears. "Please don't cry, pretty. I can't stand to see you hurting."

Jungkook nodded softly, leaning into his touch just because it felt right to do so, closing his eyes for a moment. He had come to realize that even though Yoongi promised not to hurt him, that he would - either way and without wanting to - because someone like him could never love a creature like Jungkook.

But he couldn’t do anything about his love for him, he was doomed.

“I’m sorry, I just… I freaked,” Jungkook’s voice was soft, little sniffs interrupting each word, “No one ever heard me sing without consequences. It was...scary.” He averted his gaze, holding onto Yoongi’s wrist to make him stay with him and not let his palm leave his cheek. It just felt too good to not lean against it. “I can never remember the words I sing and if Taehyung is right…and there’s something in my songs... You felt the cave react to it, there must be something.” Jungkook blinked his eyes open. The other thing he knew for a fact was that he would still do anything for Yoongi even if it meant for their small adventure to be over and to part ways soon, because he would be no use for the captain anymore.

Jungkook reached for Yoongi, placing his hand on his neck to pull him in and kiss him sweet and gentle. He needed it. The feel of his warm lips against his own cold ones and even though the kiss felt different for him now, in the end it would change nothing. He only pulled off when he needed to breathe, nosing along Yoongi’s cheek, his breath like a sweet whisper on the pirate’s skin. Jungkook was like the sweetest temptation, kissing him so gentle, so perfect that Yoongi felt like he must be in a dream. The boys whisper sunk under his skin, warming him from the inside and when the siren started to sing again, only quieter this time and just for him to hear, he was completely lost.

“Come to me, I let you in.

All the secrets that I keep, hidden in my blood.

Slipping right through your hands, you’re going down with me.

Fall in my trap, and on your knees. In waves, let it wash over you;

through the stone you must break.

My love, my blood, my fingertips,

let a kiss escape my lips.

Cut me open and my spell won’t be broken.

Your fate is sealed, let me be your key,

Take my hand and drown in me.

Hold your breath, to sing my lullaby down on the shore,

your slow descent to the ocean floor.”

The second he heard Jungkook’s clear, angelic voice his eyes filled with tears, but he refused to cry because the black captain didn’t cry in front of anyone! Not even when he held a beautiful siren in his arms whose voice was so beautiful it made him feel like crying.

Jungkook only slowly opened his eyes again when he stopped singing. His hands had found their way to Yoongi’s shirt, holding so tightly onto the fabric that his knuckles turned white. He quickly let go, smoothing over the soft satin but stayed close, nonetheless. He didn’t want to part any further from Yoongi, still cheek against cheek, his body heat warming him up more effectively than anything else could - although he was still shaking from nervousness. “Y-you okay?”

Yoongi nodded, not daring to speak because he was sure his voice would give out on him if he tried right now. It took him a few kisses (short and sweet and way too intimate for the nature of their relationship) before he had caught himself enough to answer, “It just blows me away how beautiful you can sing every time I hear it.” He chuckled, thinking about how it had only been the second time that he was able to hear him and that it already felt like Jungkook’s voice had been in his heart forever. It sounded so familiar, so comforting and sweet - Yoongi didn’t want to miss it ever again. He cocked his head a little before asking carefully. “So, what are those secrets that you talked about in your song? Those which are hidden in your blood?”

Jungkook furrowed his brows in confusion, shivering slightly as he watched Yoongi get more comfortable on the floor, expecting him to explain what he just sang about. “My blood? Secrets?” The young siren shook his head and tried to reach for the blanket on the bed, because he still felt cold, “I don’t know what you’re talking about actually. I told you I don’t remember what I sing about.” He sighed, before explaining again, “It’s more of a feeling that overcomes me. I know what to sing and in that moment I know all the lyrics, the tunes, the melody…but when I stop I can’t remember. It’s like the human in me can’t remember what the siren part was doing. That’s weird right? I’m weird, I’m sorry.” Jungkook bit his lip nervously, playing with the hem of his shirt.

Yoongi looked at him closely, intrigued by what the boy had just told him. He had thought that Jungkook would at least remember some of it or at least be able to explain when you asked him and made him remember but apparently he really had no clue about his songs. “You are an enigma, my little fish.” He ruffled through Jungkook’s hair to lighten the younger’s mood and stop him from drowning in his own self-deprecating thoughts. “We’ll figure you out, you’ll see.”

Jungkook nodded sleepily, “Do you remember it?” He got up carefully, walking over to Yoongi’s desk to search for a quill and some paper. Sitting down at the edge of the bed when he had found it, he motioned for Yoongi to come to him, thinking that sitting here was way more comfortable than the wooden floors of the ship. “Write it down for me, please. Maybe I can help you then and be useful for once.”

Yoongi sat down comfortably and without even thinking about it he hugged the younger from behind, pulling him in and against his chest so that the boy could sit down between his legs. “I don’t think I remember it all though. Maybe if you hum a little? Or do you think you could even sing the song again?” The first time he had been too mesmerized by his voice to keep each and every word in mind, maybe it would work a second or third time around.

Jungkook cleared his throat, glad that Yoongi couldn’t see much of the blush on his cheeks that was still evident from when he had pulled him in. It was everything Jungkook needed and he wanted to stay there forever. Like his own sweet heaven, he thought while giggling to himself, trying to block out every worry and instead began to sing again.

He watched Yoongi write down a couple of words, telling him to repeat multiple times. Jungkook did so until he wasn’t even sure if he was still singing the same song, but seeing Yoongi form the words, sorting them in the right order had him feeling positive about this. He yawned, blinking at the notes while the pirate was mumbling to himself. “Sounds like we have to break through the stone in a way. It must be behind it? Just how I felt it right?” Jungkook turned his head a little so he could look at Yoongi. He smiled tiredly, leaning his cheek against Yoongi’s chest, “Maybe the key to open it isn’t my song itself.” Jungkook was just rambling now, mumbling about how he could dive around the cliff as soon as the sun was up as apparently he needed to go down. He hadn’t made it to the second page of what Yoongi had written and the pirate was keeping it carefully hidden behind the first page of his notes. Jungkook sighed, closing his eyes for a moment to relax his tired mind, whispering the song once more until not even Yoongi could understand him anymore.

Using his magic over and over again obviously took its toll on the siren and when they were finished Jungkook could barely look straight. Yoongi could feel the youngers bodyweight more and more on him as the younger slowly sunk against his chest while nodding off. At first he jerked awake for a few more times, adamant on solving the riddle together with Yoongi but it wasn’t that easy when you were so sleepy that keeping your eyes open seemed like an impossible quest. Yoongi however was glad when he was sure the younger had fallen asleep. They had tried to analyze the song piece by piece and line by line to make sense of it and it worked well - except for the past that he had kept from Jungkook.

“Cut me open and my spell won’t be broken...”

It wasn’t supposed to be taken literal, right? Why bring Jungkook all the way here if someone had to hurt him at the end? For a horrible, horrible second Yoongi wasn't sure how he should decide if he would end up having to choose between hurting Kook to get to the treasure and sailing off aimless and empty handed - but with a safe siren under deck.

He read the lines over and over again…and still it made no sense. Some of it was pretty clear, how Jungkook was the key to all of it and they had to go down. But where to? And it all could only happen if they went through the entrance first…for which he had to cut the siren open? Yoongi shook his head, rubbing the sides of his temples. Placing the notes aside, he figured that he wouldn’t make any sense of it alone. So, he took the younger back into his arms, embracing him carefully to make him lay down and draped the blanket over them.

He placed a sweet kiss on the siren’s forehead and a soft sigh escaped Jungkook’s lips. The longer he gazed at the younger, the more he realized he wasn’t thinking rational enough and that he needed someone that was. Maybe Jungkook had bewitched him after all, clouding his mind after all even though he heard him sing perfectly clearly…

He didn’t mind the late hour and hoped that Namjoon wouldn’t mind either. He wasn’t as sleepless as Yoongi so sometimes he actually went to bed at a fairly reasonable hour. Hopefully tonight would not be one of those nights. When he reached Namjoon’s cabin he knocked three times, in a pattern that only he and Namjoon knew and then waited for the other to let him in if he was home.

Namjoon heard the knock, but he only realized someone was at the door a few seconds later, jerking awake with a fast beating heart. Jimin was still on top of him, snoring softly as he had cuddled his face into him not even bothered by any of the noise. “Yoongi?” He groaned, trying to sit up without waking Jimin but the younger always slept like a rock. When he rolled aside and away from his chest, Namjoon quickly covered his naked body to keep his dignity before he opened the door a peak, blinking tiredly, “Are you alright?”

Yoongi let his gaze wander over Namjoons form and his expression that ranged from tired to embarrassed. “Oh. I woke you.” He commented and then stated further. “And.. you are not alone?” It had been little more than a guess but Namjoon’s flustered reaction was answer enough for him. He leaned forward to sneak a peek even though Namjoon did his best to block his view. Nonetheless Yoongi saw who had been keeping Namjoon warm at night.

”Ah, I see.” Jimin, one of his youngest boys was lying relaxed and half naked under Namjoons covers. He had half a mind to ask Namjoon about his preparations to make sure that he wouldn't make the same mistake of going too fast too rough as he had done last time with Kook - but then he felt it would be too personal and intimate - and also there were more time urgent things to discuss.

“Yeah, I am alright, I think.” He answered vaguely. It was only half an honest answer because he actually felt a little out of it. Maybe the siren song showed its effect after all.

Namjoon mumbled something, grabbing his robe and then closed the door behind them. “You told us to go and rest…so please, you know I don’t ask questions about who sleeps in your bed, right?” He sighed and added quietly, “You know I like him so please don’t make it more complicated with snooping around, please.” Namjoon smiled at his friend and captain, cocking an eyebrow as he stared at Yoongi intensely, tying the bathrobe around his waist. “You think?” He noticed the papers in the captain's hand right away, reaching for it and taking it from him when Yoongi let him. “Did you find a clue? A way to get in. What is it that can’t wait until tomorrow morning?” His eyes read over the notes quickly, furrowing his brows deeply as he waited for Yoongi to explain it all.

“You don’t ask questions because you know already,” Yoongi answered dryly and then added, “And I don’t care who you fuck. Just don’t screw him over or break his heart on purpose because I need him on my ship, and I don’t need drama. Simple as that.” It could get pretty lonely on a ship, so he wasn’t against his crew members teaming up - as long as it didn’t end in broken hearts and goodbyes.

As Namjoon had already scanned the papers Yoongi had no other way than to come clean right away, “I made Jungkook sing. To find a way to the treasure. And this is what he came up with. He doesn’t remember saying this, apparently he falls into some kind of trance whenever he sings but I wrote it down word by word. And I... I kind of worry...” He broke off, trying to go back to being cool and collected. “I wondered how you would interpret these parts...” He tapped onto the ‘cut me open’ part and those about Kook’s ‘blood’ and then hesitantly added, voice only barely audible, “And what you’d advise me to do if it is meant to be a literal instruction.”

Killing Kook was not an option to him. Though if he would tell his crew tomorrow that he had been wrong and that there was nothing... they weren’t stupid. They would find out eventually. And if they revolted, if they insisted on going all the way to the treasure… Yoongi had no idea if he could keep them from doing what they had wanted in the first place: To cut Jungkook up to see what he was made of.

Namjoon hummed in deep thoughts, placing his hand on Yoongi’s shoulder to make him walk ahead. They didn’t need to discuss a possible map to the treasure in the hallways where every crew member could listen in on them, instead Namjoon lead Yoongi to the galley. There he sat down again, reading over the notes once more. “So, you heard what he sang?” Namjoon raised his eyebrows, looking up at his captains, “You know that’s not normal? No one can remember what a siren sings about. Either you’re hypnotized and don’t remember a thing or you’re dead.” He reached forward to poke Yoongi to see if he was truly alive and not an imagination of his tired mind but the captain batted Namjoon’s hand away like a fly. “Stop it! Maybe Jungkook has a sore throat and therefore can’t sing properly.” He halfheartedly tried to explain. He had absolutely no idea why it didn’t work on him, but he hoped that whatever it was that kept him safe would continue to work because now that he had heard Jungkook's mesmerizing singing voice he definitely wanted to hear it again.

“So, how I see it the key to it all is in his blood? It must be filled with his magic right?” Namjoon had an idea why Yoongi could hear the siren’s songs, he was well versed in mythology, and these notes gave him further hints, but he kept his mouth shut because knowing his best friend and captain the other would run off the second he was asked if he was in love with his siren. It was clear that only two people could open the cave, someone who had fallen for a siren and was therefore willing to go down with them and the siren itself. Namjoon smirked. “You have to cut him. That’s the only way in.”

He waited, watching Yoongi closely until the shocked expression fell over his face but before the captain could say something and possibly lose his face Namjoon added, “Just his fingertip.” He chuckled, patting Yoongi’s shoulder while the captain seemed awfully pale. “And then you have to drown with him.” Namjoon motioned to the last part of the song adding that part quite nonchalantly, “I think it’s meant quite literally: holding your breath while the siren sings and you descent to the ocean floor. If this is a siren treasure where would you hide it? Not just behind a cliff right? That would be too easy. Only a siren or someone with a siren could reach it.”

Namjoon’s conclusions left him shell shocked. He had hoped for the other to find some secret meaning or code or anything that would be far from the obvious because hurting Jungkook was out of the question. Luckily the amount seemed to be neglectable as long as it was blood. “I’ll ask him then. Maybe he’s willing to do it.” He scoffed at Namjoon’s further revelation. “Ocean floor? I can’t hold my breath for that long!” It made sense though. He had been too caught up with Jungkook’s part to make sense of the last few lines of the song, but it sounded logic as Namjoon had put it: A siren treasure should only be reachable to a siren.

“Well, I can’t either,“ Namjoon gave the notes back to Yoongi, “Maybe you can ask Taehyung to go down with Jungkook then. You know he loves diving…” He sighed, rubbing his hands over his face tiredly, “Is that all you need from me? You know…I…ehm, there’s someone waiting in my bed…and he gets kind of whiny because,” Namjoon’s voice turned into a whisper, “He doesn’t like to be cold.” The taller man bit his lip to keep from blushing and quickly cleared his throat.

“Yeah, whatever, you’re oversharing!” Yoongi coughed awkwardly and took the papers back from Namjoon. “Thanks for helping me with this. I might talk to Tae in the morning.” He wasn’t so sure about asking the younger about this as he couldn't quite expect him to risk his life for them and their treasure hunt when Yoongi wasn't even sure if he’d take that risk himself. Maybe it was enough to let Kook go alone... Anyway, he had enough to think about, so he left Namjoon to his bed and the person in it that was waiting for him and went back to his own bed as well.

Jungkook was still in the same position as he had left him and only when he placed the notes somewhere safe and had gotten under the covers, the younger stirred. “I always feel it when you’re not by my side,” Jungkook’s voice sounded a bit rough from sleeping, or too much singing, turning around to face the captain so that he could pull him in easily. “Will we find the treasure tomorrow?” The younger’s words were a little slurred and he shivered from feeling Yoongi’s cold body against his own. Nonetheless he inched closer.

“Yeah, we might.” He made sure that the covers were all around them before pulling the younger in. “I’m here now. I’ll keep you warm. And safe. You can go back to sleep again.” He whispered, trying to not let it get to him that Jungkook had basically just told him he slept better with his presence. He needed him - in a way that was different from his crew members (because he simply was their captain and gave the orders). He waited until he was sure that the siren had fallen back asleep before gently kissing his forehead.

“I’m glad that you’re here pretty. I don’t know where else I’d be right now if I hadn't found you.”

A/N: Only one chapter left!!! Do you think they will find the treasure? ;) 💕

Subscribed: @gguksbam @bngtnsnyndn-ily @whatarelarryfeels @jeonsdear @starlightstae @p-ixelite @lissachan504 @wise-bts-collector @nochuukookie @h-e-l-p-m-e-p-l-e-a-s-e00 @hisheartsmile @lxnehxre @violetrose120 @fusselkuchen @gelsavitichi @minsugasnerd @yoonqiful @thenameoftherain @jjkscnery @tobi-love @banaani-mins@writeasifwordsarepaintbrushes @it-is-dana @nomimits7 @laur-zipan @mytokyos@ksjinandtonic @eenabannana-blog @mintynicotine @vannilacake @persephonelovesbts @maryana-san @ultmay @the-magic-shoppe @shineenimus @triviajeongin @cabaasch @vannilacake @cecechiro @entlein117

↳ If you want to be tagged in new updates you can now sign up in my subscription list here

169 notes · View notes

taeken-my-heart · 5 years

Text

Independent {f} Chapter 14

Summary: Your mom calls you stubborn, your friends call you wild, and the boys you’ve left in your wake call you a frigid bitch. You’ve built a life of independence and you like it that way. Kim Taehyung, however; seems to be able to change your mind.

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Genre: fluff, mild angst

Word Count: 4648

Warnings: This chapter is just an angst fest, I’m sorry! Next chapter gets better, I promise!

**There is a read more linked but it doesn’t seem to be working and I don’t know what to do about it. I’m sorry! TT

*************

Spring semester was a misleading name. It indicated that it was going to be warm; flowers blooming, rivers and streams melting and warming, getting ready for the impending summer swim parties

But this, no this was not spring; not yet, at least. A fresh 6 inches of snow greeted you on your reentry to university and after warm greetings to your housemates and giving Charlotte the gifts you’d brought her from Paris, it was back to campus to buy your textbooks and seek out your classrooms in preparation for classes the next day.

Campus was busy with life, chatter from winter vacation high and the four of you trekked up to the center of campus where the bookstore was, syllabus and book lists in hand. Charlotte asked you all about Paris, insisting that you show her all your pictures and pouting after she’d seen them all.

“I want to go!” She complained, stuffing her mittened hands into the pockets of her oversized grey coat. “I’m so jealous you got to see all those amazing things.”

“I thought of you the whole time,” you smiled, wrapping your arm around her shoulder and pulling her scowling face next to yours in a side hug as you walked.

The heat of the book store was almost sweltering compared to outside. There were too many bodies and not enough space, but you all needed to be here so there wasn’t much that could be done. Stomping your boots on the carpet and removing your gloves, you began weaving your way through the isles in search of the books listed on your phone.

“I can’t believe I’m taking Molecular Biology this semester. I’m going to die.” Anna sighed beside you and you turned to raise an eyebrow at her.

“No one told you to go be a forensic scientist.” You teased and she stuck her tongue out at you.

“You know what, I don’t need your logic.” She sassed.

“So, what’s going on with Jin?” You asked, turning to glance at Sarah over your shoulder. She smiled; blush high on her cheeks.

“He’s actually on a plane right now. He spent most of the vacation in California, but he got to spend a few days back home with family.”

“You know that doesn’t answer my real question,” you grinned, “you guys dating or what?”

Sarah laughed, shaking her head and sliding her fingers along a nearby book as a distraction. “Yeah, we started officially dating about a week ago.”

“Well finally!” You huffed, “everyone could see that coming from a mile away.”

“Oh stop!” Sarah blushed and you chuckled, scanning the row of books for the one you needed. H.B. Hawthorne, check. Grabbing the book, you tucked it under your arm and looked back at your list.

“Go get your books, we’ll chat about this at home.” You waved Sarah off and she smiled, walking around the isle.

Your class load this semester was a little more intense than last. It wasn’t that you had more classes than before, but that the credit hours were higher. You’d also added a few classes that were required of your major, but if you were being honest, you weren’t sure exactly what they were meant to cover. Like Virtual Form and Space. What even was that?

After scoping out the rest of the books you needed (and finding a basket to put them in because you were foolish enough to believe you could carry them all in the first place) you made your way to the front of the store to wait for your friends.

Anna came back first, flipping through a page of one of her text books and you grimaced when she showed you the Solving Cold Murder Cases book in her hand. “Can’t believe you actually want to work with dead bodies.”

“To be fair, I want to work more in the lab with test results, but I’m keeping an open mind. Who knows what my true calling with be?”

“Not working with dead people; that’s mine.” You said, nodding firmly and Anna chuckled.

“Good thing you’re studying Visual Arts.”

Just then you spotted Jimin and Jungkook walk through the door, shaking the snow from their hoods and your heart jumped into your throat. “Jungkook, Jimin!” You called and they both turned to look at you, Jungkook bounding over with a smile and a hug.

“Y/N!” He said, pulling back and Jimin followed behind him, rolling his eyes at his younger brother and chuckling.

“Hey Y/N.” He said, giving you a quick hug.

“How was Paris?” Jungkook asked, pushing into your personal space and you laughed as Jimin smacked him away. He pouted over at him, rubbing his arm, before turning back to you.

“It was absolutely amazing.” You said, a little shy from all the eyes on you now that Charlotte and Sarah had also returned. “Biggest adventure of my life. I learned a lot of really valuable lessons.”

“About photography?” Jungkook asked and you looked over at Jimin briefly before turning your gaze back on his over eager younger brother.

“Yes, and about life.”

“Are all the same guys living together?” Sarah butt in, moving to stand beside you.

“Yeah,” Jimin nodded, shaking some hair from his eyes, “but this is Jin’s last semester with us so we’re gonna have to find a new roommate next year.”

“Well you guys should come over for dinner sometime this semester.” Sarah continued, “feels like forever since we’ve all hung out.”

“That sounds like fun!” Jungkook nodded enthusiastically. “This time we could bring something, too, like desert.”

Anna grinned, nodding, “I like the sound of desert!”

Jimin glanced down at his phone as it beeped noisily, lips stretching into a frown. “Ah, sorry to interrupt, but Kook, we gotta grab our books and hurry. We’re on a bit of a deadline.”

Jungkook nodded, eyes widening with understanding. “Ok, yeah. Well we’ll all have to plan something when the semester gets underway.”

You all nodded, exchanging goodbyes before the guys walked quickly into the rows of books to search for the textbooks that would rob their bank accounts of life. “Did everyone get everything they need?” You asked.

At your friends nods of confirmation, you all worked your way up through the line, paying for your things and bundling back up for a cold walk back to the house.

*************

The first day of classes were brutal. One, because you were used to not going to classes and restarting an old routine was like whiplash. Two, because you’d made the terrible mistake of choosing an 8am class. There had been later times for this particular class, but they’d been with teachers you didn’t really like or they just didn’t fit into your schedule properly.

Still, despite the fact that you’d chosen the class that was best timing wisely…it was a terrible decision. Your eyes were screaming from how tired they were as you made your way to the top of campus, scarf wrapped warmly around your face and the wind whipped slurries of snow off the ground and around your head.

The campus was mostly barren of life, just a few freshmen trudging bitterly to their classes. The joys of being underclassmen. By the time you got to the top of the hill, you were sweating, an interesting juxtaposition to the winter storm raging around your cocoon of coat and scarf.

You’d worn your coat from Paris wanting to look cute for your first day of school, but now you were realizing the errors of your ways. The peacoat was definitely more fashionable than practical.

The warmth of the digital arts building was like a welcome hug and you breathed a sigh of relief, unwinding the scarf from around your neck and unbuttoning your coat as you made your way through the empty hallways and into your classroom.

The professor was already there, unpacking her bag and swishing around the mouse to her computer, and so were a handful of other unfortunate souls. A.K.A, your classmates.

You chose a seat relatively close to the front in an effort to encourage your attention. It would be more difficult to slack or doze off if the teacher could see you. You nodded a few bleary hellos at some friends you recognized from classes before, before unpacking your bags and getting ready to take notes.

The class was mostly boring, but it was a quota you had to fill and led you to your 9:30 am photo workshop class, which was far more exciting. Lots of hands on, practical activities that got you into the nitty gritty of what you were even in university for. Because it was just the first day, you spent most of the class going over the syllabus and being introduced to the darkroom and equipment you’d be using over the semester.

Your last class of the day, an 11am class, was a little more sedated, but you could see it picking up in the weeks to come, once the semester was really underway. The syllabus, at least, promised some exciting material you could work with.

Your first week followed much the same way; settling back into routine and getting used to the teaching styles of new professors. You had noticed with a sinking feeling in your gut, that you had yet to see Taehyung and for a moment you worried that maybe he’d decided to drop out after all and stay with TTIG in California’s corporate grounds.

A week to the day after school had once again begun, you found yourself back in the library. You finally had your first real assignment to do and you needed a quiet that your apartment wasn’t currently able to offer. Jin and Sarah were both in the living room, TV blaring while they studied together. You weren’t sure how they did it, but studying with that kind of noise made your ears bleed.

You chose a desk near the stacks in the back, pulling your laptop from your bag and setting up comfortably behind the comfort of the wooden privacy the desk offered you. Popping in your earphones, you turned on your phone, switching to a station that played the sound of rain for 5 hours straight. A little monotonous, but it soothed you.

You’d only been studying for around 30 minutes before suddenly needing to pee. You stood up, stretching your legs and making your way to the bathroom. After heading back out once you were done, you paused to glance down at your phone. Sarah had texted to ask if you wanted to go out to eat tonight and you smiled, replying quickly that you’d be done in the library around 4:30 and you’d be up for just about anywhere.

Sighing, you slid your phone back into the back pocket of your jeans before glancing up and freezing. Across the room and standing with a few friends you recognized from his study group last semester, was Taehyung. He’d clearly gotten a tan out in California, the honey glow of his skin making him look even more handsome than you’d remembered him.

You wanted to go and talk to him, but with all the people around, you knew it wasn’t really the right time. You’d likely just have to go to his house at some point and ask to speak to him. Just as you were about to unstick your feet from the floor and head back to your desk, you watched, almost in slow motion, as Beth walked from around the corner, smiling and running to his side, linking her fingers with his.

You felt like your heart was going to shatter as you watched him smile down at her before leaning in to give her a quick kiss. Your throat was burning, heavy with emotion. You’d waited too long.

It had never occurred to you that maybe he would move on. You chastised yourself for even feeling this way; he wasn’t a possession and you were the one to shut him out in the first place, you didn’t really have a right to feel this way. Your heart wasn’t a great listener, though.

Your eyes were blurry with tears and your throat felt like it was constricting around fire. You walked quickly to your desk, packing your things to go. Screw studying, there was no way you could allow him to see you like this. It felt selfish to cry over him when you’d been the one to ultimately give him up. The walk back to your house was frozen and miserable, your tears leaving icy streaks against your cheeks. If you’d told yourself 6 months ago that you’d be heart broken and crying over a man now, you would have wanted to throw up. Now you really did want to vomit, the emotion so intense as it clawed at the cavern around your heart.

Slipping into the front hallway of your apartment, you could hear Jin and Sarah’s voices in the living room and you tried to compose yourself before going in. You really weren’t in the mood to divulge how much of a loser you felt you were.

You tried to slip passed unseen, muttering a quick hello with your gaze focused on the door to your left, but you should have known better. Sarah knew you too well.

“Y/N?” You could hear the alarm in her voice, hear the shifting of her clothing as she stood from the couch, “what’s wrong?”

You paused in the doorway to the kitchen, shoulders stiff as you willed yourself not to cry again. “Nothing.” You croaked, squeezing your eyes shut in frustration and clearing your throat. “I’m fine.”

“Don’t give me that.” Sarah scolded, coming to stand in front of you, pulling your chin up to look at her. “What happened?”

You couldn’t hear him or see him, but you knew Jin was sitting behind you on the couch and you wanted more than anything to not blubber your eyes out in front of the roommate and good friend of the guy who’d unintentionally broken your heart.

“I saw Taehyung.” You mumbled, shrugging, and you could feel rather than see Jin’s eyes on the back of your head.

“Did you talk to him or something? Was he rude?”

“No,” you shook your head and despite your best efforts, you were crying again, “I’m too late.”

“Come sit down!” Sarah insisted, fussing around you as she sat you on the couch, going to the kitchen to grab you something and you dropped your bag by your feet and buried your face in your hands.

“I feel so stupid.” You cried and Jin scooted close to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and Sarah came back into the room, kneeling in front of you with a glass of water. “Did you know?” You asked, glancing over at Jin and his face fell.

“I’m guessing you’re talking about Beth?” He asked gently and you nodded, wiping the sleeve of your sweater across the top of your lip. He nodded, sadly, “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“How long have they been together?” You croaked.

He sighed, pulling his hands back into his lap, lacing his fingers together awkwardly. “Probably around 2 weeks now. She texted him all throughout his internship and they just really clicked.”

You felt like your heart might give out. It was like you’d been dumped, but you can’t really break up if you were never together, could you? “I just feel so sad.” You admitted, taking the glass from Sarah and twisting it idly in the circle of your hands.

“It’s normal to feel sad.” Sarah said gently, “it’s not easy to let someone go when you care about them.”

The idea of letting Taehyung go made you feel sick to your stomach, insides churning. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath through your nose to calm the nausea. You turned to look at Jin and he looked so sad that you almost felt angry. You didn’t want to be the type of person who incited other people’s pity, it only made things worse.

“Is he happy?” You asked and Jin squeezed his lips together, like he was trying to keep the words inside.

“Yeah,” he admitted, “he’s pretty happy.” You nodded, standing and grabbing your bag, pulling it over your shoulder.

“Good. I want him to be happy more than anything; he deserves it.” You walked quickly towards the kitchen before pausing and turning to look back at your friends. Sarah was still knelt on the floor, one hand resting on Jin’s knee as she kept her eyes trained on you. “Please don’t tell him you saw me…you know, crying.”

Jin nodded, smiling softly up at you. “Promise.”

You spent the next few hours holed up in your room. Between the attempts at study and a few sessions of wailing into your pillow, you were exhausted. Mostly, you were upset with yourself. This was your own fault; you hadn’t been ready or willing to let him in and he’d moved on. You really couldn’t blame him for that.

At the end of the day, you really did mean what you’d said to Jin. You wanted Taehyung to be happy. He was such a good guy, so deserving of the love he’d been seeking, even if you couldn’t be the one to give it to him.

You wanted to be able to look him in the face one day and tell him you were happy for him. You weren’t there yet, but you knew someday you could be. He would just have to be a bittersweet memory that you learned from. Growth was pain and sometimes you really did just burn your bridges.

Around 5:30 there was a knock at your door and you called softly for whoever was on the other side. Sarah opened the door, leaning against the doorframe.

“Hey.” She said softly.

You smiled up at her, index finger bouncing against the surface of your desk with nervous energy.

“We were thinking of going to Harvest tonight, grabbing some soup or something. You wanna come with?”

You shook your head, staring down at the carpet, toes digging into the time worn patterns. “I’m not really hungry.” You said.

“Ok,” Sarah sighed, “you want me to bring you back something and just leave it in the fridge?” You shrugged, scratching your fingernail across the top of your wooden chair. “I’ll get you your usual.”

You nodded and she walked across the room, kneeling down in front of you and pulling you into a hug. “I’m so sorry you’re sad.” She whispered, “the pain does go away, I promise. Try and focus on doing things that make you happy.”

You nodded, smiling down at her. “Thanks Sarah.”

After your roommates had left the house, you grabbed your camera, bundling warm into your coat, gloves, and hat, and making your way out into the evening. You needed a distraction. You wandered around aimlessly for a while, unsure of where to go.

Small roads led to picturesque neighborhoods, icicles hanging from rain gutters and porch railings. You hated the winter, but it sure was beautiful. You snapped pictures here and there, fiddling with the settings and trying new angles.

The sky was mostly dark, but where the sun had set was still a shadow of light blue and purple. You station yourself in between trees, aiming to capture the lighting just right. The stars above were shining despite the pocket of sunlight still left at the horizon and the picture itself was so beautiful that your heart throbbed a little. If only everything in life could be as awe inducing.

The slush was beginning to seep uncomfortably into your shoes, but your feet had a mind of their own and you followed their guidance, making your way into a small clearance surrounded by trees, quiet and blocked from the lights of the school around it.

The snow was pristine, beautiful in its natural state and you realized belatedly that this was the clearing Taehyung had brought you to back in November when you’d gone sledding. It was beautiful, fir trees lining the entire enclosure and you lifted your camera to take some pictures, breathing fog into the air.

It was amazing the power a cluster of trees could have, blocking out the sounds of the outside world. You felt so far removed from civilization, despite being only a tree line away. It was likely a mistake, but you weren’t really thinking straight so you immediately let your knees buckle under you, plopping in the snow and laying back, letting your camera rest on your chest.

You were wet and you were cold, but the sky was magnificent. Stars winking down at you from their spots in the universe. You sighed up at the view. It couldn’t fix any of your problems, but somehow, it gave you peace, allowing for a sense of hope to build in your chest.

You weren’t sure how, but you knew things would be OK. Right now, your heart was aching, but you would move on. You’d missed your shot with Taehyung, but that didn’t mean that there wouldn’t be a shot with another guy somewhere down the line. You’d be ready for him when the time came.

You stood slowly, shivering as your clothing, now wet with snow, sopped through to your skin. You needed to get home quickly and get warm before you caught a cold; it was maybe already too late to prevent it anyway.

After returning home and taking a nice warm shower, you cuddled up into bed, listening to the sounds of your roommates returning from dinner. It wasn’t that late, but you felt too tired to stay up, so turning to your desk light, you flipped the switch off and allowed yourself to drift into sleep.

*************

The next morning you woke late. The sun had long been risen and the house was quiet; you supposed your roommates had already gone to class. You only had 2 classes today and your first didn’t start until 1pm, so you took your time, making breakfast, showering, and getting ready.

You decided to look your best today. Even though you didn’t really feel that confident on the inside right now, you didn’t need to look the part. There was something to be said for building your confidence in other ways, and though you didn’t think it was smart to always put so much stock in the way you look on the outside, today you needed a little pick me up and a cute look was gonna be it.

After finishing a very lazy morning routine and even watching an episode of your favorite show, you made your way back to campus and into your cinematography class. In general, your entire schedule this semester was pretty promising and you settled into a brief explanation of what to expect in the class and then a video showcasing work done before, some of the famous names who’d taken the class before stardom, and some movie trailers from movies that the school had worked on directly. Last class you’d merely gone over the syllabus and done introductions, so this was a fun twist.

By the time you’d left the classroom you were buzzing with excitement, chatting away with a classmate and friend about your expectations for the semester.

“My dad said that Mike Posner took this class when he was here, and look at him now.” Your friend, Adrian, remarked and you smiled lopsidedly at her.

“But isn’t he a singer? What does cinematography have to do with that?”

Adrian shrugged, checking her phone before sticking it back in her backpack. “Don’t know, still famous, though. I gotta run to class, only got 20 minutes to make it there and it’s across campus.”

“I wish you luck!” You called, giggling as she waved and bounced off in the other direction.

You yourself had another class in 30 minutes so you stopped by a vending machine quickly to grab a snack before bundling up again and making your way out into the snow to head to your digital art history class. You were really looking forward to this week because now your classes would actually start to get interesting.

After class you made your way back to the library to catch up on the work you’d avoided yesterday. Honestly, it was the beginning of the semester so it wasn’t like you were behind on anything, you only had that one assignment, but you liked to feel prepared and ahead of the game.

You shoved your granola bar in your mouth, staring distractedly at your phone as you made your way down to the first floor of the library. You needed a little peace and quiet that the social atmosphere of the 3rd floor couldn’t afford you. Just as you were stepping through the doors to the first floor, you collided with someone, nearly dropping your phone and gripping the bar between your teeth before looking up, apology dying on your tongue.

“Taehyung.” You breathed, pulling the bar from your mouth.

His dark hair was fluffy, like he’d just blown it dry, flopping messily across his head. He looked cute.

“Uh, Hey, Y/N.” He replied, scratching at his chin.

“How are you?” You asked, looking up at him, watching as his dark eyes darted from your face to the walls around you.

“I’m ok; I’m good. How’re you?”

“Yeah, I’m OK.” You nodded, shifting your feet as the two of you plunged into awkward silence. “I heard you had a good time in California.”

He looked down at you, eyebrows rising in surprise. “From Jin?” You nodded and he continued, “yeah, it was a really cool experience.”

You paused; tongue heavy with the words you wanted to say. I miss you, I’m sorry, I was scared. Nothing felt right, but you should have known your mouth would run before you could really think it through. “I also heard about…you know, about Beth.”

Taehyung frowned, jaw ticking as he clenched his teeth. Perhaps Jin wasn’t supposed to say anything about that, but you’d been the first to see them after all.

“How long have you guys been together?” You asked awkwardly, the words uncomfortable in your mouth.

“A little over two weeks.” He said and he sounded annoyed with you. Your heart wilted at the thought.

“Oh.” You nodded.

“Why oh?”

“I guess it just feels kind of fast.” You commented softly, shrugging.

“It’s been over two months, Y/N, it hasn’t been that fast. We were never even together. How long do you expect me to pine for someone that doesn’t want me?”

“It was never a matter of not wanting, Taehyung.” You insisted.

“Whatever you want to call it, it doesn’t matter; you rejected me so why are you acting like this?”

“Why her?” You asked.

“Who, Beth?” At your nod he frowned, “I’m sorry, but it’s honestly none of your business. I offered up my whole heart and you didn’t want it so now it’s time we both move on.” He looked into the distance, nodding at someone over your shoulder, “Look, I gotta go. Have a good semester, ok?” He reached up to pat your shoulder but stopped suddenly, staring at you in discomfort before fisting his hand and dropping it to his side, walking around you.

You wanted to be sick all over again. You’d really messed up. Not only had you lost out on a guy you’d really liked, but you’d destroyed a friendship. Your bottom lip trembled at the thought, but you refused to lose another night of studying to an all-night cry session. You rounded your shoulders, making your way to a desk at the back of the library and sitting down.

Your broken heart would just have to wait.

____________________________________________

Only two more chapters left in this story and I promise they are MUCH happier than these last few! Thank you so much for sticking around. Please let me know what you think. I’m so curious! xx

Chapter 13

Chapter 15

#taehyung scenario #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst #taehyung x reader #taehyung fanfic

96 notes · View notes