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justauthoring · 3 years

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Precious To Us [2]

In other words, you’re Seijoh’s manager.

This chapter, Oikawa’s fangirls.

A/N: Here it is! The second part! I had one person request an idea (thanks @minigranger) and I definitely plan on writing it soon but I love the trope of manager vs. fangirls that I can’t help myself. As usual, please send in ideas :)

Listen, Oikawa’s fangirls are mean.

They just are.

It doesn’t really matter to them that you’re a first year, if they’re supposed to be your seniors, they would probably still be bitches even if you were their seniors and in second/third year.

They seem to think Oikawa’s theirs, even though, of course, he isn’t and if asked, he definitely would deny.

And they see you as a threat.

A big, big threat.

Who gets to see Oikawa everyday? You. Who gets to see him practice every day? You. Who gets a front row to seat to every one of his games? You. And who does he flirt with? You.

It doesn’t matter if you reciprocate the flirting or not -- which of course, you don’t -- they’re jealous and they blame it all on you.

Honestly, the first month of managing is fine.

Now that you know who Oikawa is and you’re around him more, you do notice the fangirls, but they don’t really bother you and you’re too focused trying to learn the ropes to really care about their constant presence.

You know you’ve heard some of the other members, namely the third years, complain about them.

About how annoying and distracting they were when it came to practice, or just the mere fact that Oikawa seemed to revel in the attention and love.

You’ve heard them, but you don’t really say anything otherwise because they’ve never done anything to you so you don’t really care either or.

Besides, even if you do think it’s tad bit pathetic, you can’t deny they’re devoted and you guess, in some ways... good for them?

But when you don’t stop being manager, and the rest of the team, namely Oikawa, don’t get sick of you like they all expect them to, and a month passes and you seem to just be thriving, getting a long with everyone, and finally getting the hang of everything?

That’s when they attack.

You’re already late.

And even if you know none of the boys or even the coaches will be upset with you, you do like to be punctual and you absolutely hate being late. So, you’re rushing, practically sprinting through the halls as you try to gather your bearings and organize everything you need to.

You’re already thinking of what drills Oikawa will have the team do, and what you can do to help. Maybe you could bring up some of the notes you’ve made? You’re not a hundred percent on the terms, but Iwaizumi has been helping you, and you’re sure you’ve picked up on a few of the techniques and things you think the boys could improve on.

You didn’t want them to think you’re imposing, but this was the job of the manager wasn’t it? They always reminded you you were more then just a water girl, and that they greatly appreciated anything advice you had for them from an outsider point of view, so maybe--

Landing with a loud thud, a groan leaves your lips as you feel your chin smack against the concrete floor beneath you. It takes you a second to gather your bearings, baffled at how you were suddenly on the ground, and trying to ignore the pain at having bitten your own tongue. But the second you hear laughter, you realized exactly what had happened and your head turns around to stare at the three girls stood above you in bafflement.

They’re laughing at you, quite loudly and obvious mocking you, but your eyes narrow in bafflement when you realize you’re positive you’ve seen them before. You just can’t place your thumb on it. They’re not in your class, one of them doesn’t even seem to be in your year, and you don’t think you’d remember some random face you’d passed in the hall, so--

That’s right. You’ve seen them hanging around Oikawa before, and the one older girl had even snuck into practice one day.

Slowly pushing yourself to your feet, you move to gather your stuff, only for it to be kicked out of your grasp.

“What the--!”

“Listen.”

You blink when the older one, clearly the leader or whatever, is suddenly directly before you, barely a breaths away, glaring down at you.

“You need to quit being manager for Oikawa-san’s volleyball team.”

And your eyes widen, baffled, lips parting as you shake your head; “I don’t--”

“I think you perfectly understand,” the girl behind her sneers, eyes cold.

“We don’t like how close you were with Oikawa-san.”

“And we’re sure Oikawa-san’s sick of seeing your ugly face every day.”

You’re stunned silent. Honestly, you’re not really sure what to say.

“We’ll give you till the end of the week,” the head girl smiles, but it’s a sickly sweet, filling you with dread. “Okay?”

She doesn’t wait for you to respond before her and the other two are walking off, clearly proud of themselves if they way they walk and hold themselves is anything to go by.

It’s takes you five minutes to gather yourself before you start making your way to the gym again for practice.

Part of you wants to just skip and go home but you know the boys would be concerned, more then they probably already are given how late you are, and really, it would just cause more issues in the end anyways.

Besides, you’re never one to skip anyways.

You don’t cry. You’re not really sure why because you definitely want to, but the tears never come and then you’re suddenly in the gym and everyone's rushing towards you in concern, questions leaving their lips rapidly as to why you were so late.

You brush them off, and it almost works, before Iwaizumi takes notice of the dried blood on the corner of your lip that you’d regrettably missed when cleaning yourself up earlier and the scrape underneath your chin.

“What happened to your chin, Y/N? You’re bleeding.”

He steps towards you, but you brush him off.

“I just tripped is all. Bit my tongue.”

You smile and hope it’s enough to convince them, but even if Iwaizumi looks like he wants to argue, Oikawa’s already pulling him back onto the court.

“You’re so clumsy, Y/N-chan! You really do need to be more careful!”

Some of the boys laugh and you do too, forcing yourself to pretend like everything’s fine even though you can physically feel yourself shaking.

But even as he’s being dragged away, Iwaizumi is still eyeing you and you don’t let him grow anymore suspicious then you can tell he is. You send him a soft smile, and then turn, making your way over to the coach to see where you can help for the day.

And it continues on like that for week.

By the next day, every seems to have forgotten you being late and only Makki makes a teasing comment about the cat themed bandaid on your chin to which you begrudgingly shove him away with a shrill “it’s the only ones we have!” and you seem more like yourself then you had the day before that by the second day, even Iwaizumi has relaxed.

By the end of the week, even he seems to have forgotten about it.

But you haven’t.

And it being the end of the week has you scared.

Kindaichi seems to notice your weird behaviour in class, especially now that the two of you tend to stick together now that you’re acquainted. But you brush him off every time he asks, saying you just felt ill.

He seems to believe it fine.

Luckily for you, nothing happens.

You’re on edge all day expecting something to happen, but nothing ever does.

Aiko, the third year and clear ring leader of that little group, never approaches you. In fact, you don’t see her once all day, which that in itself isn’t odd since you’re in different years, but you had expected to see her lackies -- either Makoto, a first year like you, or even Nami, a second year.

But you don’t.

By the final bell, you’re relieved.

It was just a mindless threat. It didn’t mean anything clearly, and they had just been poking fun, and honestly you were fine with that -- so long as you didn’t have to deal with them again.

You’d just have to be more wary of the fangirls. Maybe they weren’t as kind as you thought you were, and clearly they thought you posed some kind of threat (even though you definitely didn’t) so you’d just keep it in mind and--

“I’m pretty sure we told you by the end of the week.”

It’s a harsh thud, you don’t fall to the ground like you did last time, but you do thud against the lockers which dig painfully into your back. And regrettably you let a small cry in response, which pales in comparison to the cry of pain that leaves your lips when one of them grab a chunk of your hair and tug, hard.

Pushing at the hands that grab at you, you spin, not surprise to see the same three as before, sneering down at you.

Aiko spits down at you. “Clearly you didn’t listen.”

“I’m not gonna just quit,” you whisper, feigning the confidence to speak up for yourself. Your eyes narrow up at her, even though your heart is racing madly against you chest, and shake your head adamantly. “I love managing the volleyball team, and it’s not even because of Oikawa-senpai! I love being will all the boys, and I won’t let you--!”

“You really are just a slut.”

You’re stunned silent, lips left parted.

“Listen, I gave you a week, you didn’t listen.” Aiko scoffs, shaking her head as she brushes her hair back, glaring down at you. “I’ll show you what happens when I don’t get my way.”

She strikes you hard, across the cheek, and naively, you think that’s it. You can handle some punches and kicks, because you really don’t want to give up the one thing that’s made you happy for the first time in a long time. Even as the hits continue, and your body starts to ache, you think,

I can handle this.

But still, you end up skipping practice that day. You blame it on the fact the fact that you just didn’t want to have to explain why you looked so battered and messed up, knowing this time no amount of lying was going to get you out of this one. Because, really, it wouldn’t just be Iwaizumi suspicious this time -- all the boys will be, and then they’ll probably talk to the coach and...

and, it’s just to much a fuss for you. So, you skip, sending a text to Oikawa explaining that you weren’t feeling well and you’d be back Monday and to please apologize on the coaches behalf for you.

But you don’t go back the next day.

When you open your locker the next Monday, your homework that you’d finished during lunch to previous day to get a head start is ruined. Completely and wholeheartedly ruined.

And when you glance around, the first thing you see is Makoto from across the hallway, smirking at you.

But you don’t have any proof.

So, you suck back the tears that threaten to fall, and sulk to your first class where you know the teacher will be less then pleased.

And of course she isn’t, but she simply sighs and tells you that if you don’t have it in by tomorrow, she’ll have to give you a failing grade.

Embarrassed and upset, you walk to your seat, ignoring Kindaichi’s watchful gaze as you sink into your seat.

But it only gets worse from there.

The second class starts, a note is tossed onto your desk.

You eye, confused, glancing around for who threw it, only for everyone to be faced forward, before glancing briefly at Kindaichi’s whose watching your curiously.

Slowly, you open it.

Is it true you actually slept with all of the volleyball team?

Laughter echoes, but when you look up, there’s three girls staring at you, all mockingly.

Kindaichi leans forward, trying to grab the note but you pull it from his grasp, avoiding his gaze.

He cannot see that.

And when the class ends, you narrowly avoid Kindaichi who calls for you, rushing out of the class, only for someone to bump into you the second you make it out, shoving harshly into your shoulder.

“Slut.” The voice sneers.

Your lips part, and you glance up, feeling your vision blur, but when you glance around, you suddenly notice the looks everyone’s giving you, and the way they laugh and sneer at you.

But what really makes you break is when you turn, feeling like everyone’s against you, and find Kindaichi staring at you with parted lips, obviously confused, and you just can’t hold it back then, turning without another word, and running off.

The day continues like that, and after lunch, which you spent alone hidden in a bathroom stall, you see Iwaizumi and Oikawa ahead of you, smiling when they notice you.

They look as if they want to talk, but you know then you absolutely cannot like that happen, for multiple reasons, so you turn around quickly, running off in the opposite direction despite the way they call after you.

You don’t go back to practice like you said you would.

And neither do you Tuesday.

When Wednesday rolls around, and every laughs at you when you walk pass them in the halls, or sneers at you, or looks at you like you’re the most disgusting thing, you go to the office when you realize you can’t handle this any longer.

No matter how much you love being on the team and managing the boys.

Little do you know, in class, Kindaichi notices the odd coloured paper in your hands and curiously, maybe even worriedly (because there’s a sinking feeling in his gut) peers over your shoulder as subtle as he can, lips parting when he reads the header.

Permission to quite a club form.

“I think Y/N’s going to quite the team.”

It’s the first words he says when he enters the club room that day, and it makes everybody pause.

Silence echoes, and slowly, unsurely, Yahaba shakes his head; “what-what are you talking about, Kindaichi? I thought Y/N said she just wasn’t feeling well, which is why--”

“I saw the form this morning,” Kindaichi shakes his head, “I know what I read.”

Oikawa shakes his head. “Y/N would’ve talked to us first if something was upsetting her. She wouldn’t just--”

“Haven’t you guys heard the rumours going around?”

It’s Kunimi who speaks this time, his voice the similar drawl it always is, but if you look at him close enough, it’s easy to tell that he’s concerned. Upset even. And he looks disgusted as he speaks, eyeing Kindaichi first, almost knowingly, before turning to the other boys.

Iwaizumi’s brows furrow; “what are you talk--”

“I think someone’s been bullying her,” Kindaichi frowns. “It started at the beginning of the week. Y/N came in with her homework ruined, which I thought was weird, because she always is so careful with her work and makes sure it’s done early. And then someone tossed this note onto her desk but she wouldn’t let me read it, and she wouldn’t talk to me or even look at me all class. Then, when class was over, people were... well--”

“There’s a rumour going around that’s she’s slept with all of us.”

It’s Kunimi who finishes it, Kindaichi’s face beet red, which quite a few of the boys mimic seconds later when Kunimi finishes.

But Oikawa? Oikawa just looks pissed.

“What?”

Kindaichi blanches, looking absolutely terrified; “I thought you knew! I didn’t--”

Oikawa storms past him, Iwaizumi quick to follow, and then Mattsun and Makki are right behind them. The first and second years glance at each other, before slowly following them, and sure enough the third years are heading straight for the gym, to which none of them are surprised to find you there, a form in your shaky hands as you stare at Coach Mizoguchi.

You turn to them with wide eyes, clearly having hoped to finish before any of the boys started practice. But Mizoguchi looks relieved. “Thank God you boys are here,” he breathes, standing up to which you try to stop him, but he isn’t listening, “Y/N wants to quit, but I really think she should talk to you first,” he’s looking directly at Oikawa, “she won’t tell me why. And please Y/N,” he turns to you, “I think you should reconsider.”

“We’ll talk to her,” Oikawa cuts in, voice oddly low before you can say anything.

Mizoguchi smiles, nodding at you before making his way over the gym obviously in search of Irihata. Instantly the tension thickens when you’re left alone with all eyes directly and solely on you.

It takes a second to find the words. “I’m sorry I didn’t talk to any of you about it, but I...” And your voice falters, even you can’t help the way your voice quivers. “I think it’s best if I just quit.”

“You’re not quitting.” It’s Iwaizumi who speaks this time, and his voice is so firm, so sure, even if you’re not sure how to argue against it.

“But I-I--”

“You don’t need to quite,” Oikawa shakes his head, stepping towards you and pulling the form from your grasp with ease. You watch with parted lips as he simply rips it right in front of you, tossing it aside without much care, before glancing back at the rest, namely the other third years, turning back to you. “Now, tell us, who told you you had to quit?”

And your eyes bulge. How did he--

“Kindaichi and Kunimi told us about everything,” Iwaizumi starts, moving towards you, as your eyes fall to the first years, watching the way they both, even Kunimi, stare after you in concern. “We know someone’s been bothering you, so, just tell us.”

“We’ll help you,” Watari adds with a smile, hesitantly speaking up.

And you pause, unsure. But then you stare at them all watching you carefully, and see how all of them care so much, more then you ever thought they did and you’re reminded of why you’d refused to quit in the first place. Reminded of how much you love managing the volleyball team and no matter how much you were scared and hurt, you didn’t want to lose it all.

Lose them.

“It’s... It’s a few, three actually, of Oikawa-senpai’s fangirls,” you mumble, voice low, head turned downwards. “They... They don’t like how much time I spend with him, so they... they told me to quit and when I refused, they...” You don’t need to finish.

There’s a pause, before a slap echoes.

“Somehow I knew this was your fault, Shittykawa.”

“Ow!” Oikawa cries, “Iwa-chan, it’s not like I...” But he seems to pause, lips parting as he glances down at you, his heart breaking slightly at the tears in your eyes.

Stepping forward, he pulls you into a hug, and you let him; “I��m sorry, Y/N-chan, I didn’t know they were hurting you.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“It kinda is,” Mattsun comments, stepping forward as he smiles down at you, ruffling your hair. “It’s easier to blame him anyways.”

“I agree,” Makki laughs.

And even you find yourself laughing lightly.

“Really, Y/N-chan? Even you too?”

“Sorry.”

Then, everyone turns serious; “I’ll talk to them,” Oikawa frowns. “What they did isn’t okay. I won’t let them get away with it. They’ll never bother you again, Y/N.”

And you’re surprised by how serious he is.

But things do get better.

Aiko never bothers you again, nor does any other one of Oikawa’s fangirls.

Oikawa even makes her apologize, and even you have to admit the absolute mortification on her face makes everything a lot better.

The boys try to stop the rumour, but it’s easier said then done, though, the fame of it all does dwindle and you’re not snided in the hallways so much anymore.

It’s kind of hard to when you usually have one of the third years walking you to and from class anyways.

Besides, they’re your friends, and even if everyone else hates you, they don’t.

And that’s all that matters to you.

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maybemanyskeletonhats · 3 years

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KISS

Hello, this is for the people who leave the nice comments and tags (yes I look at the reblogs, they really help my morale.) UNEDITED.

Genre: Fluff galore. Seriously.

Edit. There was more to Teldryns scenario. But tumblr ate it or character limit maybe?

Edit 2. It's fixed. Apparently it ate the tags I put on too.

Sotha Sil bares the burden of cruel certainty. And he can say it's something he's used too but it does weigh heavily on him. This is different when it comes to the tantalizing affections of his lover. That being said this mortal turned god knows what he wants. He wants them. It's the rampant thoughts that plague him about how to ask them for it that make him pause. He usually saved the affections for when the doors were closed and he knew no one would intrude yet here of all places his chest thumped and his lips tingled with anticipation. Why wouldn't they want it? A crimson gaze fell on the vestige who sat idle, quiet. Their fingers loose and relaxed around the spear he had given them. He wouldn't tell them where it came from, or rather who it belonged too. But as far as he was concerned. They wielded it as if it was apart of themselves. He hears them say his name, soft, worried. He must have be staring at them. Gods, he doesn't regret any time he spends looking at them. He doesn't respond even as he gently taps the side of their jaw, guiding their face to look at his. After a moment of them staring at one another, the vestige silently nodded. Seht connected their mouths together sweetly. So maybe he can't voice his wants the way other people can, but he did ask for it...in his own way, right?

Almalexia tried to give herself the idea that she never got to the point of desperation. That there was never any time when she felt that she needed to kiss the life out of her vestige. That nothing in Tamriel could make her so happy or so worried that carnal need became her priority. It was when the vestige returned to her, their face filled with exhaustion even as they sat still in the wagon. They are finally home, she thought breathlessly. Gone for three whole months that stretched on like a thousand years to her. They were a hero, a mortal, they saved Tamriel whether she liked it or not. If there was anyone in this whole world that deserved her affections, was it not them? Her feet touched the warm stone beneath her. Her golden eyed gaze widening as they slowly looked up. Eyes making contact with hers. The exhaustion that was filled to the brim in their eyes disappeared, and their slumped position turned into one of high alert. They jumped out, ignoring the distressed cries of the others with them. Ayem began to feel her feet move, unconsciously picking up speed till she was breaking into a small jog. All other thought was gone at the thought of them. It was them. She missed them. She missed them so much. As soon as they collided together, hands fervently gathering each other up. "Can I kiss you?" She asked simply, fingers tracing their lips. The vestige doesn't even wait, slamming their lips onto hers. Rule like a queen, kiss like a queen.

Vivec knows he wants to kiss them. The days after they've come to call themselves lovers drift in and out of his mind frequently. He knows he'll soon not have the luxury of claiming godhood for much longer, not that he's complaining. At least, with whatever time he has left, he wouldn't see them go before him. But for now, let's love like mortals do. He mused quietly to himself. In his lap the Nerevarine gave him an odd look but shook it off. He often said strange things that they would never quite understand. "It's humorous that as you arrive, your immortality comes, and mine drifts away like stars in the morning light." He begins, eyelashes tickling his cheeks. "I suppose that it matters not anymore. Should the Sharmat have succeed, none of us would be here. It was the right decision." He confessed. He didn't feel as conflicted about it, he surmises that that's what bothers him so. Time changes all, something Sil would have jumped to remind him of. He meets their gaze, their nose brushing against his jaw. 'I still love you, god or not. If it means anything.' They murmured, pressing a small kiss to his jaw. It was then he felt completely mortal, not a god, not a beloved figure. But someone normal, someone who grew old like others and got married, had children. "It does." His right hand came down to rub patterns onto their arm. "Am I allowed to kiss you..?" He questioned lazily, arm tightening around their middle. The Nerevarine's smokey gaze locked with his, their face growing warm. 'Like I'd say no, right?' Vehk merely hums, the arm wrapped around their middle sliding up to cuff the back of their neck. The god turned mortal pressed his lips to theirs in a rare moment of unyielding affection.

Voryn Dagoth's heart slams against his ribcage every time they enter a room. He was sure if it got any more louder they'd be able to hear it. Never had he ever so desperately wanted someone to himself. Voryn finds himself wringing his hands as he looks at them, anxiously chewing the inside of his cheek. 'Is something wrong?' They asked, head tilting. Voryn gives a hesitant smile, eyes shining with nervousness. "Yes, yes of course. I'm fine. Just thinking about something so hard it's abit...troubling." They gave him a look of sympathy, comfortingly grabbing his arm. This only made the Chimer man fidget. "I want to kiss you. Very much so." He blurts, instantly regretting it. They arch a brow at him, and nod slowly. 'Then kiss me?' Is all he needs to hear as he presses his lips to theirs in heated desperation.

Neloth leans back against his desk, arms crossed. His lips pulled into a careful line. It's not as though they were doing anything to bother him, they were just sitting there. Yet...he scowled. He was courting them, so it wasn't as if the want for some romance was alien. Neloth knew he could be hotheaded. But he loved them. The elf cursed underneath his breath. Why was it so hard to kiss someone? The Nerevarine's stops their idle humming and rolls their neck to look at him. Amusement shining in their eyes. "Oh you are insufferable aren't you?" Neloth breathes. They knew. Of course they knew. He forgets that they tease just as much as he does. He lets out a noise of exasperation, standing straight. Neloth walks over to them, leaning over their chair, his hands braced on the arm rests. The nerevarine sits still as a statue, grin still visible with the red ting across their face growing. His hand comes up to knot itself in their nape, pressing a surprsingly slow but deliberate kiss upon them. When he pulls back his face feels a lot warmer from where he started. "N'chow, there. It's of my system now at least."

Divayth Fyr usually has his hands occupied with some experiments or research. But feeling up the Nerevarine wasn't that bad right? Hands running up and down their sides he almost felt a need to keep them caged against his desk. If they didn't like it, they would have done something or said something much earlier right? Divayth's slightly stubbly chin runs across their cheek till he can press a kiss to their forehead. "Could always have you...if I wanted too right?" He breathes, nose brushing across theirs in a rare display of affection. His much larger hands come up to separate the small hands that had latched into his shirt twenty or so minutes before. "Want you...want to kiss you. You make me feel things." He whispered helplessly against their skin. Divayth barely hears the quiet consent before he's giving them a slow, passionate kiss.

Mannimarco has rare moments where he feels... possessive. But in a soft, non threatening way. His nose tenderly brushes the crown of their hair, his fingers kneading into their waist. Grip firm and assuring. Maybe he was in a good mood, he mused to himself. Didn't particularly feel that strong, bordering on vicious need to separate them from every man they interacted with. "Don't want you talking to peasants." He huffs, tightening his hold. He hears them laugh and his face burns as he rolls his eyes. Perhaps he should just marry that at that point, make them the King/Queen they ought to be at this point. What was the chances he could make them see his way about things then?

Cold fingers run on their side, feeling the warm body pressed to his cower away from the sensation. He grins mockingly. "Will I have to beg you for affection? Or am I going to have to do it myself?" The Vestige merely grins, the twinkle in the eyes he grew to knew so well the last few months. He scoffs, though his lips threaten to rise upward into a smile. His fingers dance up to nest into their nape, his other coming to tilt their chin up. "Mine.." He says with an uncharacteristic softness in his voice. "Or at least, I'm hoping you are..." His eyes betray him showing the vulnerability inside, in a rare show of open love, Mannimarco presses a firm but gentle kiss onto his Vestige.

Teldryn Sero doesn't cuddle often. Not when they're awake of course. He doesn't like to appear clingy, he's already glued to their side as is. The only spellsword from around Solstheim behind the legendary Dragonborn of Tamriel. The only one of their kind. It's not as though he wasn't getting glory though..he thought, his fingers drifting down the flat of their back. The hammock they've been lying in swaying gently with the breeze. "Your thoughts are too loud." They murmur against his collarbone. Teldryn feels a laugh bubble in his chest. Sometimes, just sometimes they could be more observant. "I'm a spellsword, subtly is not in my arsenal." His lips quirk upward as he fondly rubs his chin across their hair. "Too bad..." They start, fingers tracing patterns on his ribs. "About time you've learned another skil other then making wise remarks." They finish as he feels them smile playfully against him. Teldryn snorts in amusement, eyes fluttering closed. "All apart of the package you bought..." He hears a small 'tch' in response. "Better have a receipt." They fireback, slapping his arm. "No refunds, Sera." This time he grins, angling his face down so he can bring them into a heated kiss.

~°~°~°~°~

Translations:

N'chow is essentially the dunmer way of saying 'Damn'

#the elder scrolls #sotha sil #elder scrolls morrowind #vivec #eso #elder scrolls #almalexia #neloth #teldryn sero #divayth fyr #mannimarco

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mikiib · 3 years

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The Magnus Archives: ALIEN AU (Part 1)

So in short I had come up with an AU where the cast of TMA characters are set in the universe of ALIEN. They’re both my FAVORITE pieces of horror media I’ve consumed and so my brain figured- WHY NOT? So I have 13 pages and scenes in my brain that would take place in this AU. If this or the following posts that I’ll make inspire anyone I would LOVE to see what you come up with! In short this story has a mostly good ending.

Here’s a list of the things that ARE and AREN’T in this universe.

- 14 Fears aren’t in this world. It’s fully immersed in the universe of the movie ALIEN/ALIENS. - The xenomorphs however have more powers- they can shape shift into anyone they ‘kill’. So if the alien hatches from the host but somehow the host survives then that creature can pretend to be that person. If they kill someone they can pretend to be them. They still however take the main biological forms of the hosts they came from in regular form. - Queens are born when there is no other queen in near vicinity detected by the unhatched egg. - The hatching of an egg takes a lot longer after implantation rather than a few hours like the original movie. - The aliens acidic blood is still STRONG but not nearly as much. I nerfed that to a slower burn- if left on the surface for more than a few minutes it can still be JUST AS BAD as the movies version. - Cyborgs are a thing in this world- who is and isn’t a cyborg is up in the air- however you’ll find out if you follow the posts. - The aliens are weak to extreme heat and extreme cold. The younger they are the more vulnerable to both. Fire extinguishers and flamethrowers will be a big weapon in both firepower and as a melee weapons. - The technology is slightly more up to date compared to ALIEN’s 80′s tech, as there are in short video calls that can be held. -Mother (MU-TH-UR 4900) is the ships computer mainframe, and can connect directly to Elias with his acceptance of the transmission. Mother also monitors the crew and their vitals when they are under cyosleep. - They can quit. No bindings to ‘The Eye’ here.

ARTIFACT RETRIEVAL VEHICLE: THE COEUS CREW: SEVEN

Captain and Scrivener (Archivist): Jonathan Sims (Age: 31)

Executive Officer: Sasha James (Age: 35)

Warrant Officer: Georgie Barker (Age: 29)

Navigator: Melanie King (Age: 27)

Engineers: Tim Stocker (Age 33) & Martin Blackwood (Age: 27)

Science Officer: Nikola Orsinov (Age: 30)

CARGO: OTHER WORLDLY ARTIFACTS UNDER STUDY COURSE: SCIENCE AND TECHNOLOGY MOON BASE: THE MAGNUS ARCHIVES

-Everyone shares the role of being a Scribal (Archival) Assistants to Jon- no exceptions. -The Magnus Archives is a space station on the Moon orbiting Earth. -The cargo they carry is found from the ships that collect samples from uninhabited planets as well as statements from those who report to them their findings to investigate. -The Admiral is the ships designated therapy cat to help the crew cope with isolation brought on by Georgie. -Elias Bouchard is the head of The Magnus Archives.

STORYLINE:

The story starts after they’ve collected the last of the artifacts required on the list to retrieve. They’ve been in cryosleep for over 6 months and only need 3 more months of it till they’d arrive to their destination. Everyone wakes up on their own time, Georgie first, along with Melanie and Martin. Followed by Tim, Sasha, Jon, and Nikola, they gather at the dining table of the living quarters. Martin makes everyone their preferred meals, seemingly the most nervous. This has been Martins first time aboard THE COEUS, and his banter with Sasha and Tim prove while not the best at his job there, he makes a mean meal out of the ‘rubbish space food’ provided. Melanie comes back after taking a look at their current location frowning, letting the others know they aren’t even close to Earth yet- not even in their solar system anymore. In surprise they turn to Jon, who himself has only been Captain on ship for only just before this crew was assigned to him. He gets up to check out whats going on, many of the others follow him, much to his disgruntlement as they basically fill the small room. Mother has intercepted a transmission of unknown origins and under contract of their jobs they must check it out. Curious to know more about their new course Jon calls Elias, who informs them it will be a 2 week set back on their schedules course. Jons not exactly excited about this but Tim’s quite happy to be informed it does give them quite a large bonus since it does seem confirmed of unknown (non-human) origins.

Once they arrive to their destination, Melanie sets the ship into motion for landing. She reads off all planet signs to the crew on. It’s a nearly isolated dwarf planet of 600 kilometers in diameter (372.823 miles). The surface on landing will be 23 degrees celsius- much warmer than expected but it does seem to be orbiting a sun fairly closely. They prepare for landing and Martin and Tim are set to get the ship in position. Martin and Tim talk together as they prep and make sure the landing legs will be fine against the surface of the planet. While they do so Sasha pops in announcing she gets to go with Jon and Melanie to investigate the source of the spooky transmission on foot. Meaning also she gets a bigger cut in the bonus than them. Tim and Sasha razz at each other but stop when sparks are spat in Martins face for wiring something wrong. He curses and Sasha comes over to help see what's wrong, pulling on gloves. She laughs a bit and gently teases him to choose a different degree to lie about next time he wants a new job as she fixes the wiring for him. Martin shushes her, claiming he didn’t expect them not to do background checks, nor did he expect to be given a position on one of the biggest damned cargo retrieval ships known. While he worked originally as a simple warehouse organizer at The Magnus Archives sister base on earth he had needed cash to help support himself after his Mother had moved out. Tim wraps an arm around Martin, claiming he’ll shield Martin from Jons prying eyes if anything goes wrong on this detour. They laugh a bit before the radio goes off from Jons office room. He’s complaining about the lights not turning on in there and would be thrilled if someone did their job correctly when fixing it before he gets back on the ship. Tim radios him that they’re on it before they tease Martin more on his obvious crush on Jon before Sasha is then called up to suit up.

Georgie is helping the 3 suit up properly, making sure their heart monitors are secure and attached to their neck to get an accurate pulse. Jon seems to be struggling most with the suit up, this unlike the other two, being his first time in a suit outside of the initial training. Sasha after having her camera feed double checked helps Jon out. And while Jon doesn’t say anything about it, it’s obvious Sasha should’ve gotten the job as Captain. Melanie the entire time rattling on about how excited she is to document her findings of a foreign transmission.

They land with ease, nothing going wrong as the planet, while rocky with a constant rain, is also somewhat flat. They make their way to the source of the transmission. Tim and the others are now watching from the ship- cameras live feed and audio coming to them as Georgie talks with Melanie about all the kind of things they could find on the ship to study. Nikola reminds everyone that without the items and everyone following the procedures for quarantine, no one is touching the items that may be brought back. The conversation dies out into aww when they see the space ship the signal is coming from appear on camera. Melanie is excited as Sasha and Jon start to look for a way in. Jon reminds them to stay close to him at all times as they enter the ship- its obvious he’d rather none of them go in here due to how degraded the place looks. Everything seems to have been heavily melted in random patches, but the ship itself seems to be made of a biological element of some sort- comparing it to a ribcage almost as they walk through it.

As they traverse the ship they stumble across multiple dead alien bodies. They aren’t fresh but they also don’t look years old. Melanie goes to take a closer look at them but Jon quickly pulls her back from them, yelling about how obviously unsafe it is as well as the fact that she just broke formation rushing off into a different room. They both get into an argument about what should be done with the bodies, and how far their investigations should go. At this point the feed is hardly coming through via camera, but the audio makes it back to the the ship roughly. Sasha goes on without them as she’s getting closer to decode the transmission. it’s a warning of sorts is what she can gather. Looking at the bodies it may have been an illness of some type, each of them dead from some type of acid but she finds one with an open chest- like an explosion. she gets closer to one, that seems to shift out of the corner of her eye. She tries to let the others know but she realizes that they can’t hear her over their arguing, and she’s almost certain she’s lost on the foreign ship. So instead she brings herself closer to the alien body before something crashes behind her and she stumbles back, tripping over something, and screams as she bashes her head on the back of her helmet. She gets up and looks around and sees the shadow of the creature run off and she chases after it.

That got the attention of the others as not only with the scream but Tim tells them her heart rate is spiking drastically. Jon and Melanie cry out for Sasha and she stops after meeting a dead end. She sighs and tells them she’s fine, she just fell and admittedly was just chasing after shadows. She turns around however and suddenly her heart monitor on the ship starts to read dead. PART 2

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cloudsnbones · 3 years

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Ok so quick note, thanks to @wonderofasunrise whose blog I found these prompts on and thus which proceeded to steal. this is no. 11. :)

Excuse for being lazy: also yes this is only meant to be short so like sorry for not expanding on things at all. Perhaps I shall make up for that next time ;)

This is set in s8 around wintery times.

Please enjoy :3

“I thought I would be okay with just being friends but… All I can think of when I’m around you is how badly I want to kiss you and how I can’t do that anymore.”

Kerry lay quietly, her cheek resting on Susan’s chest, her eyes shut in a warm, pensive bliss – two souls in harmony.

Their illicit affair had begun as a matter of surprise to them both; after a night of heavy drinking and deep confessions they awoke the next morning sharing a bed, and what had started as a one-night stand became a regular thing after replicating the original night twice over.

Not only had their sexual relationship grown in a way that neither could have imagined, but an understanding, a friendship had also developed which had allowed themselves to trust wholeheartedly and without the fear of judgment for the first time in a very long time.

Kerry had indeed gotten accustomed to arriving home and finding Susan outside waiting for her, she had started to prepare dinners big enough for two in anticipation of an inevitable phone call asking to spend the night. Everything was falling into place. Therefore, it could never have lasted.

“I think we should end it.”

Whatever ‘it’ was. The nebulous nature of their relationship was growing all too much for Kerry, because, to tell the truth, she had fallen.

She didn’t think that there had ever been a time when she wasn’t in love with Susan Lewis, but to have been finally exposed in full to that euphoria, to live out her long-term dream, one she’d barely registered before now, was bittersweet…when she knew that Susan would never, could never requite what she felt inside.

Susan was surprised at the statement. She had never really thought about ending it, actually ending it. To be honest, since this whole thing started, she hadn’t really thought about anything at all. She knew that they were never going to be a “they”, Kerry Weaver and Susan Lewis: ER Power Couple, but she couldn’t help feel a little, disappointed at the idea of losing her? Although, she wasn’t really going to be lost, just not there in the same way. It just seemed really random, why now? Had she been planning this for a while? It was going well, she had thought, but knowing Kerry perhaps to her this wasn’t right. Anyway, best to end things whilst they’re good right? She clung to that thought in the hope that it might fill the suspicious hole she felt deep down in her chest.

The two promised to stay friends, it’s always nice to have an ally. And Susan was just fine with that, one-hundred-percent completely fine.

“23-year-old male, multiple head lacs, altered, LOC, vitals stable, BP 120/80,” announced the new EMT Danielle as she tried to shake her overgrown fringe out of her eyes.

It was just then as Susan and Kerry approached to take the trauma that the man in question lent over and wretched blood all over Danielle’s jacket causing Kerry and Susan to jump back a little before grabbing the sides of the gurney so that she could sort herself out. The man started to lose consciousness again as they raced to get him inside.

Danielle shed her jacket leaving it on the tarmac of the ambulance bay revealing a white vest and tattoo sleeves before she continued her debrief whilst following the pair to the trauma room, “Received 50 of Lidocaine at the scene, complains of dizziness and neck pain,” she continued.

As they entered the trauma room Susan finally took a look at the woman speaking and what said woman was wearing, “Nice top,” she said her eyes lingering a little bit too long.

“Thanks,” replied Danielle looking down at herself briefly before smiling to show her gratitude.

“LIFT ON 1, 2, 3!” Kerry ordered loudly cutting their little interaction short.

And as Susan lent over to start working on the man she felt Danielle put something small into her pocket whispering, “I’ll see you later.”

She stared as the woman left the trauma room only to look back around to see Kerry watching her icily.

After the man was stabilised, Kerry and Susan left the trauma room ripping their gloves and their aprons off as they did so before tossing them into the trash.

They both started in the same direction, practically colliding, Kerry extending an arm to institute a satisfactory, colleague-appropriate space between them.

“Tough trauma.”

“Yeah, I s’pose…Hey, did I tell you that Susie went to see that film they’ve all been talking about, Shrek(?) the other day, oh my god I have not heard her be so excited about something in months, and the way she talked about the donkey in it you would think that the two were going out, but alas no. Apparently, he is indeed taken by a dragon as is so often the case with actually desirable men,” she ranted enthusiastically putting on a heightened English accent to emphasise the slander.

Kerry listened quietly as she felt Susan’s words dig into her further and further, she should be happier for her, she knew that, but everything was closing in on her and she didn’t like it.

They entered the Doctor’s Lounge and as soon as the door shut behind them and it was clear to Kerry that no one else was in there, she started, “Listen, I don’t wanna make a big deal outta it but I just wanted to let you know that it’s considered a little inappropriate to get distracted by pretty EMTs when working a trauma at least from a management perspective, now as it’s never happened before obviously it’s not a problem but just so you know for any future interactions that they should be left till after you’ve finished working on the patient.”

Susan’s smile failed immediately at the mini reprimand. “Kerry it was nothing I promise.”

“Uhuh – well even if that is the case it’s still inappropriate,” Kerry said pointing her nose in the air.

Kerry’s stiffness on the subject angered Susan who huffed before retorting, “And even if it WAS something I don’t think that’s any of your business, you know Kerry Weaver, not everything is about you I realise, ok, that you’re the only person in YOUR world but that’s not the same for the rest of us,” as she raised her voice, she stepped closer and closer to Kerry refusing to break eye contact for a second.

Kerry was frozen in place, her lip quivering slightly and her eyes conveying only a hint of pain and fear behind their broken shields.

They were practically toe-to-toe, and their proximity almost immediately caused Susan to calm down as if her body was anticipating Kerry’s touch, Kerry’s smell, Kerry’s warmth.

The electricity burning Kerry’s skin as her beloved towered over her, not knowing, never knowing, what those words meant to her. Why although dealing with hurtful comments was part of the job, was always part of the job, they felt different coming from her.

But as cupid’s taunting strings gradually lured them together, the door burst open loudly causing the women to practically jump out of their skin in order to create distance between them.

It was Chuny; “Doctor Weaver there’s a guy wandering around the admit desk I think he’s your patient, Mr. Reid?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there in a minute Chuny,” Kerry replied a little too shrilly, her eyes still fixed on Susan. She stayed there for a few more seconds before finally awakening in herself the willpower to sort out the wanderer.

As the last sounds of her crutch hitting the floor faded away into the dissonant noise of the ER Chuny joked, “Did you just have it from Weaver, I bet you didn’t miss those in Phoenix!” before closing the door and leaving.

But ‘missing Weaver’ was really the only thing Susan was able to do at that moment, she turned towards the window to wipe away a tear. Then, she shook herself from head to toe, set her face back to neutrality and spun around so she could go back to work.

Kerry stood alone, her arms restless as if they were missing something, or someone, her kitchen echoing with emptiness. As she stared half-heartedly at the risotto she was making she heard a buzz followed by three rapid knocks. Kerry pulled herself out of her reverie, grabbed her crutch and headed over to the front door.

Upon opening, she saw Susan shivering in a short tan trench coat, her arms wrapped around herself, her right foot tapping the ground beneath her. When she heard the click of the latch she lifted her head and the expression Kerry saw sent a shiver through her, Susan’s eyes were wide and deep inside them there seemed to be some sort of lingering discomfort.

“Hey,” she said shyly before pulling the door to and stepping out into the cold winter’s night also, “What are you doing here?”

“Um…I’m not sure to be honest,” was the esteemed reply.

“Aren’t you cold? Do you want t-”

“Kerry there’s something I have to say and if I don’t say it now, I don’t think I ever will so.”

“Uh…ok, um, go right ahead.”

“I’m so tired, of all this of going to back to the old normal, whatever the hell that was, you know I-” she broke off, her voice cracking slightly as her emotions started to get the better of her, “I thought I would be okay with just being friends but…All I can think of when I’m around you is how badly I want to kiss you and how I can’t do that anymore. And even when you’re mad and being a bitch, I just want to hold you because then I know everything’ll be all right.” And on those final words she broke down, it could have been the cold, it could have been the pressures of moving back to a town where no one really remembered her, but in that moment, it didn’t matter what the exact cause was because her Susan was upset and it yanked at her heartstrings.

The women stood there silently, Susan looking at the floor and Kerry looking at Susan, frozen in light of the revelation, trying to calculate what best to do. When Kerry still didn’t say anything, Susan raised her head once more to look at her and being met only with an unreadable, blank expression, she felt she could take a hint.

Not wanting to stand in the scene of her rejection any longer Susan said, “Goodnight,” in a dejected, barely audible voice before turning around and heading down the steps leading up to the house. And it was this that triggered Kerry’s ability to move once more.

“Wait!” she called out, as she reached her hand out for the banister and tried to rush down the stairs, but her hurriedness and the light frost worked against her and as Susan turned around Kerry practically tumbled into her arms.

And at this intimacy, there was only one thing left for them really, because love doesn’t require logical thinking, sometimes all it needs is an impulse.

Kerry pulled herself up muttering a word of thanks before running her hand through Susan’s hair and slowly, softly bringing her down for a kiss.

And as a thousand fireworks went off in their minds, they simultaneously knew that “they” would last forever.

#kerry weaver #kerry x susan #susan lewis #er #nbc er #ficlet #drabble #kerry weaver x susan lewis #angst #fluff #aghhhh sorry again #better than nothing though right #also sorry if the medical stuff is wrong #that's not why i'm here #i don't think it's sooooo inaccurate???#also ive scheduled this for like the middle of the night where i am so yeah whatever you say i will be waking up to and will define my day #remember that #i don't want to proof read this again any mistakes that are there now remain there #my writing

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seb-owns-these-tatas · 4 years

Text

Witcher of the Night (Chapter 18)

THIS IS MODERN ERA READER WHO WOKE UP IN THE DIMENSION OF THE WITCHER.

UPDATES FOR WITCHER OF THE NIGHT WILL BE PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY NOW IN MY TIME (GMT +8)

CHAPTER 17

WOTN MASTERLIST

Characters: Geralt of Rivia x small!Naive!Reader

Summary: The Djinn effects had reasons. A miracle for the Witcher but a threat for everyone in the Continent and this mystery had you placed under a curse that will give you bad fortune for you future and a child that he sorceress plans on ruining.

Warnings: Mention of MCU. Iron man too. Blood. Witcher monster and sign. Curse words and degrading ones. Corporal punishment said and involved.

Words: 8.4k+

A/N: Ghost readers, please do reblog my fic if you’re reading this so others can see it as well. Also people who are in my taglist, I hope you leave even just an emoji of feedback or reblog if you’re done reading. I appreciate the tiniest dot of comment ISTG. I’ve been in a writer’s block (and also mentally exhausted from writing too) but I’m trying my best to give y’all content or an update for WOTN. My mind has been jumping from one character over another so feedback will be nice to receive. Thank you and stay safe.

TAGLIST IS STILL OPEN FOR THIS ONE! Heehee! Don’t forget to REBLOG, COMMENT OR GIVE FEEDBACK IF YOU DID LOVE THIS CHAPTER! IT’LL MAKE ME SMILE! Sorry for the grammatical errors and such because English isn’t my mother tongue! PLEASE LEAVE FEEDBACK AFTER READING, BB! This is kinda a rough draft. I apologize for many errors, this has been a result of fast editing.

Disclaimer: PNG’s and pictures used in edits are not mine even the GIF’s too. However, the edits and this fanfic is definitely from moi.

MY WORKS ARE NOT NOT NOT NOT NOOOOOOT TO BE POSTED ON ANY OTHER WEBSITES. My official username in Wattpad is “TATATHEPOTATO” and that’s the only other site I have for writing aside from Tumblr. Thank you, Tater tots!

The Kaedwenians had the last laugh.

Jaskier couldn't keep you safe from anyone, not even a tiny fly. All he could do was be a distraction and be the special wingman for a witcher. But, when it's about protecting the ones he takes care of, Geralt has always been the answer to keep one safe---that he couldn't even take care of himself when he's caught in his shenanigans and monkey businesses.

His mutant friend could always be counted on, by hook or by crook.

Yet, he certainly will disappoint him when he knows what threat and problems happened after a day; only a darn day that he was away and kidnapping arose and hindered everything that the witcher wanted to avoid.

How did they know where his family even were?

Jaskier was limping alongside with Cirilla who has hauled him on her side, an arm slithering over his waist to drag him to where the dining chairs where. One out of ten? hence, this particular sunflower surrounded by a bunch of poison Ivy has been a bard all along.

Sunflowers don't have thorns nor poison. They were harmless. Soft. Bright. Just like him. But, the bees surely did its attack considering how he'd sliced two men on their necks. Nonetheless, it wasn't enough to keep you out of harm.

"Those bloody knights did a number on me!" he suddenly exclaimed out of nowhere; wincing and grumbling out profanities from his wounds as Cirilla went around to grab onto an empty pail, sprinting straight out to quickly come back with her bucket full of water for the bard.

Dried up blood designed his busted lip; plump and ruptured from the constant clouts he'd received. His lower lip were out in a pout, frowning his way from lightly tapping his wounds with a clean cloth; holding up a small mirror to his face. Disheveled doublet untied, the collar of his inner white tunic being a sketchpad of a kid who loved his red paint. Another nasty curse accidentally slipped out of his broken lip when Cirilla loudly dropped the bucket on the table with an obvious sight of panic, fright and anger written on her face.

Her thin, candle-like fingers slightly trembled from the handle and Jaskier had gotten a glimpse out of her fear, terrified for an important person in her life to be in the brink of death. Again. She didn't want it to happen especially when the princess has finally found comfort and light from you; like how her heart hoped to meet a woman who she could treat as her rightful mother.

She didn't want you to die; not like this, never. If only you could live long enough, longer than a normal human then it would be a part of her wishes.

"W-Will she be okay, Jaskier?"

Jaskier was hissing as he tried to take off his doublet. In his unfortunate case, he'd probably earned a fracture or two over his ribs and arm. But, it was far from any organ that will give him demise. He'd thought about it again before deliberating on leaving it on to continue patting the blood off his face, "No. I swear to the death of Valdomarx that the rat will not be fine in their hands, Princess Cirilla."

The bard went on in jawing away over his thoughts with some painful complaining here and there as he tried to wipe the blood off his face with a heavy amount of strength used because of how his arms were sore and aching, "Ow-ow-ow! Geralt needs to give what they want. However, going to the south swamps will be the only solution to alert the witcher,"

Jaskier tutted in exasperation when his dampened cloth grazed through the wound, making him sigh and close his eyes to calm down. The child has done the same, copying his reaction before reaching out to grab onto the cloth and tried cleaning his wounds for herself. He bellyached away over how she's been cleaning the wrong places but a simple sharp, warning of her blue eyes kept the toubadour fidgeting from the child care.

"It's been how many hours already since she was taken?" he sounded incoherent from trying to talk with his mouth never closing as Cirilla tried to pat over the pillows of his lips. She made him repeat his question, moving away from him to dip the cloth inside the bucket and squeezing the excess water out.

When she'd heard him repeat it much clearer this time, she thought for a second before turning her heel to face him again, raising a finger to show him the time it took.

"An hour or two."

He weakly nodded more to himself. The accident was utterly fresh inside their minds and Jaskier couldn't help but worry as the clock ticks by because he knew and understood that the people in their world were more cruel and grating to be with than in your kingdom that you have lived in for years, the bard was anxiously bouncing his leg up and down with his thoughts and solutions going in places.

"We can't go to where Geralt is tomorrow," he noted as a matter of fact, pausing to glare at Cirilla who leaned close and started caring for his wounds with heavy hands, "---all we can ever hope for is wait for the gods plan. Hush now, princess."

In Cirilla's point of view, hearing his response drove her bananas. They just couldn't wait for Geralt to arrive when he'll be taking up three days before telling him what has happened. What if you were already being punished because of their false accusations about you? Geralt's child of surprise has heard everything. Even from the time that the troopers has been kicking up a fuss over the woman named Savia that looked entirely like you.

She'd even saw the fight between Kolby; seeing him run away so suddenly broke her heart as much as yours did. Will he ever come back? the princess thought at the back of her mind from overrating. Will you ever come back to their lives again or will Geralt be too late to save you from their dirty hands?

The lion cub of Cintra has pulled away from treating Jaskier's wounds, straightening her back when she began to let the negative thoughts go to her head.

"How about Kolby? I---I've seen him run away!"

Jaskier grabbed the cloth out of her hands, trying to sanitize his wounds instead. He'd tightly blinked his eyes, the left side utterly benumbed from their sucker-punches and he knew a black eye would come forth soon whether he likes it or not. The bard wasn't even on an adventure with the witcher, yet why has there been an incident where he'd been belaboured till he was bleeding with a hobble.

"He'll come back, dearest Cirilla. We can only hope for the best and also for Geralt to do his witchering---the heightened senses, I mean. Do you think his hearing can reach from here?"

They've been surrounded by silence after that. It was already morning by the time that Cirilla has successfully helped the bard to his feet, earning minutes of pure inveighs against what they've done and why Geralt decided to leave earlier than they have arrived. Their house was left as it is and it seemed like the only job that they needed to do was hold you ransom for what they wanted from the witcher because they knew what was happening beyond the four corners of their house.

The Kaedwednians have acted like they knew you were important to their family; beneficial to be taken for hostage and a crucial person for Geralt that would make him cave in to their desires.

Hence, they probably were right when Jaskier and Cirilla has heard the fast, pitter-patters of a horse from a distance; riding towards the house in a canter. Geralt's family looked at each other with knowing faces before Cirilla's face fell from thinking about the pessimist side of her head.

"I--I hear galloping!" she exclaimed before Jaskier noted the pale look of her lips like she has been thrown a bucket of ice on her head, "---What if its them again?" her lips began to tremble this time with a high pitch tone that says she was nervous and scared because she wasn't ready yet.

"What if they're back to capture me this time?"

They have been living in a world that scares her and when the right time comes, Geralt promised to take her where she'll be trained better to become like him for when danger and chaos tries to make them stay, the princess will know how to defend herself from the risks and threats. But, the witcher would still protect her no matter what happens because it is his duty and also because she has already been an adopted daughter to him. A daughter that he cherishes despite acting cold and dispassionate about the idea.

You knew she was important to him, a daughter that he somehow cared for from the moment they met. Geralt has told you this in the middle of the night, trying to tell you stories as he slept, managing to ask him about Cirilla and how she was involved in his life. The witcher never did plan it along but their destiny has made it happen for them to meet. She was the girl in the woods that people have been telling him about and the law of surprise that he has given voice that had you in awe because their world consists of beliefs and preternatural principles that never existed on earth.

Jaskier felt like his whole body grow numb and forgotten what the pain that the cavaliers has inflicted upon him when he suddenly stood up, apprehensively grabbing onto Cirilla's shoulders and looking around to find her somewhere to hide.

The heavy set of footfall started to tread near, out of the threshold of their front entry. With a swollen face and bloody clothes, he grabbed onto her wrist and tried to pull her out of the kitchen and onto the back door of their house with a need to keep another person safe and away from danger. They've already taken you and Cirilla was out of bounds.

"No. No. That can't happen. They have no idea who you are. Run in the woods. Away from here, alright? Don't worry, I'll get to find you---Geralt will find you again, I promise you---has he taught you little tricks here and there? If not---"

The loud crash of a door opening has got Jaskier in full-protective mode; pulling along Cirilla to stand behind him with a hand outstretched open in front of him to tell this person to stop from their attacks. Until they've seen a person whom they were praying to the gods appear before them utterly shambolic to their shock.

"Geralt?! Oh dear, gods! What happened?!" Jaskier yelled out loud, their breaths hitching from the picture that stood before them.

Geralt's ruined armor was off; keeping the black under tunic on that has been torn with holes. The openings held blood under the apertures of his ravaged shirt. His face seeming to be the only one left untouched from the burns and wounds. His hair was dirty from soot and darkened, moist like sand but his breeches has been surprisingly free from the scratches that his upper clothing has received from.

Cirilla couldn't help but feel the warm, hazy moisture of her eyes fill her vision from seeing him stand in the middle of their hatch, the fish bones that stuck inside her chest finally breaking free from Geralt's appearance because hope has arrived for them.

"Geralt! You're here!"

The latter couldn't believe his eyes. They were safe. His family was safe from the show that the Kaedwenians tried to scurry them off with.

Relief washed through Geralt, his Aureate peepers widened from being stunned at seeing them both.

"Jaskier. Cirilla. You're both okay." he stated in a monotone manner, his gaze examining their forms when he'd realized Jaskier has been beaten to pulp.

The hold on his sword that rested on his palms tightened from seeing red. If there was blood involved, then something bad has happened especially when he'd lately realized that his family was missing one special person that came with the ménage he had.

You. There was no midget. Were you just hiding in a corner? Trying to be playful like the person you are? Where you hiding upstairs and planning to surprise him?

Jaskier paid heed to his sudden silence, the peeved look within his eyes that held a flicker of catastrophe because he couldn't see his midget with them.

He didn't know nor realize that seeing you gone like you never existed felt like an Nightwraith has tried to rip his heart open and eat it to their satiation.

Cirilla sprinted to where Geralt stood, immediately wrapping her arms around her step-father that she also holds dearly till the moment; she'd hug him, the embrace simply an allegation of fear, telling him that it was the right thing to come back earlier than they expected him to.

"I'm so glad you're here!"

The witcher wholeheartedly accepted the embrace, patting her head that was shoved to his chest despite of the wounds he has; just thoroughly relieved that she wasn't taken. His sword fell on the side with a loud thud as he'd look away from Jaskier, his eyes shifting from high and low, finding the Hirikka not in his place under the dining table as well.

"The midget? where is she?"

Howbeit, knowing the answer. He still wanted to hear what happened from the poor bard.

Jaskier subtly coughed, alerting that his tale was ready to be told. But, Cirilla has cut him off with her voice bawling out to Geralt, frowning against his chest as she loudly sniffed. The tears in her eyes dripping down as she couldn't help but keep the emotions balled up inside her chest anymore. Shock. Fear. Worry. Care. All together, it was brought and made with tears.

"Th-they've...they've taken her away from us! She saved my life for the second time, Geralt! You owe her everything!"

Geralt didn't answer at that and just patted her braided hair to soothe her worries---her braided hair that you have fixed before being taken. He was already too maddened on the inside to even hear that Jaskier began to start his story.

"So, do you want a simplified version or the dramatic one? I hear you choose the second option, so here it is!"

Cirilla sobbed against his chest when Jaskier started. His thoughts was filled with you. He was angry, irritated and dumbfounded that you've been offering your life in exchange for Cirilla to be safe. You always did. Hence, he didn't know if he was thankful of your selflessness or utterly vexed from how kind you were at heart.

"Fuck." he whispered to himself, Jaskier's voice going on and on in the background as if it was their music, his next words sounding exasperated as he simply sighed out of his nose and closed his eyes in frustration.

"---Midget..."

Jaskier was unaware that Geralt wasn't listening to his nonsense blabbers until he got straight to the point. He'd even told him how he rearranged and hid the bowls where you couldn't find it which made the witcher give him a simple raise of his brow.

Cirilla cut the hug when she was feeling dandy enough. Geralt gave her one final reassuring and affectionate pat on the head before grabbing on his fallen sword with a scowl on his face as he listened to Jaskier run his mouth.

"---So, I've been punched in the gut from different kind of Cavaliers. The Kingdom of Kaedwen can suck my arse---I've learned that from the rat by the way---and I've bled to the end of my second life. Hence now, this is my third---Hallelujah!---Kolby listens and follows every command but he's gone now and we don't know where he is---even tried to save me and her but the vampire is too strong---not that it isn't surprising,"

The simple action of grabbing onto his sword inflicted pain onto the fairly large wound on his lower rib which made him hiss. It was from the burning blood of the Bloedzuiger that he somehow managed to not shield himself with; forgetting to use Quen in the midst of battling.

"Tybalt." he understood completely, knowing exactly who tried and planned to get you from him for their use. They still haven't found the witch and needed to find her as soon as possible. Geralt wandered over the kitchen, closing the door behind him as he lowly grumbled to no one in particular.

"---They still want me to lift the curse. They want me to kill their monster,"

Their ears perk from the admission; watching the witcher peel his damaged under tunic off with an aggravated sigh as he stood in front of the dining table. He'd taken a lot more injuries than he most likely does; even had his energy spike to its lowest due to wanting to get the job done in less than half an hour. Hence, this resulted in accepting more wounds and detriments by rushing the whole task.

Geralt has already taken potions for him to heal on the way. Some of the smallest wounds has been healed. Though, the deepest wounds did not yet. It would certainly earn him a scar or two from it but he never cared.

"You're bleeding, Geralt. Where are you going?" Jaskier sauntered to his side with a wince from seeing more blood than what he normally sees, Cirilla also pulled a face and watched the witcher heavily sigh from examining his opened wounds. He deeply had a grimace on his face as he does when he tried to explain.

"It's from the Bloedzuiger's blood," he gruffly muttered, only answering the troubadour's first question.

His talkative friend circled around him to be met with the nastiest laceration that he has seen. Jaskier's nose scrunched in repugnance from what stood before him for the first time in years, "You've never taken enough damage like this before," he claimed as a matter of fact; in deep conjecture as to why he seemed to be in adrift prior to his hunt.

Geralt's attention was solely on the gash that could make him lowly groan in the back of his throat; rough and sounding uncomfortable from the pain it was giving.

"Jaskier, stay with Cirilla. Keep hidden and never go out until I come back with the midget," he gruffly started when the princess has rushed upstairs to find gauze to help with his lesions.

The Weccan leaned over the table, his palms on either side; flat on their wooden dining table with his ruffled hair framing his features and his head bowed down as he deeply pondered, his worries all about you because they've kept you ensnared. They knew he would come for you. They knew they will be expecting a witcher to welcome and they were right.

"---we can't leave the midget within their reach. They'll know her existence---Ingrith of Helmfirth already knows her existence,"

The bard's eyebrows were knitted tightly together in confusion for what he has heard, stammering from all the questions inside his head that kept on bothering him. He leaned on the table beside Geralt, bright blue eyes inquisitive and confused, "What? how---how did you even know she was gone? I thought you didn't know the sorceress?"

"The Djinn placed the midget and I in a spell where I can feel what she feels and I knew she was in danger,"

Jaskier gave a hesitant nod, deliberating over what he's trying to figure out from all the phenomenon that he has encountered, "Like some curse?"

Geralt shot his head up to nonchalantly give him a glimpse of his convinced golden peepers, pursing his lips, looking away to stand straight and lean away from the table.

"If you put it that way, we can call it a curse then."

The white wolf left Jaskier in the kitchen and drifted towards the stairs, making him trail behind; walking with a phrase of protests over the half naked witcher taking his flight.

"We need to treat those wounds before you step foot in the castle, Geralt."

There was no need to beat behind the bushes in Geralt's protective instincts. Specifically when you were in a risk to be hurt by their filthy hands. He took the staircases with his heavy footfall, roughly reassuring the bard from his worries.

"Already did. I'll be fine, bard."

Once they've reached the second floors, all wounded and bloody; both Geralt and Jaskier, they stood in the middle of the wooden hallways. Eye to eye as they were having a serious talk. Their voices echoing all over the place, "She saved Cirilla's life for the second time around," Geralt huffed and gave one seething sigh when the pain on his lower rib was burning. He certainly needed them to gauze his wounds before leaving.

"---even helped you forget about that knight you were fond with. I need to save her,"

Jaskier's mouth fell open from his bluntness, believing that you have been used as a person to forget his previous ones. He'd wiggled those slim shoulders of his, hands on his hips and keeping his head held high. A fake cough left his lips, thinking of ways to get back from being attacked figuratively by Geralt for a lot of times already.

"I won't let another slip away again, Jaskier."

Jaskier raised a knowing brow, sharing a bloody compact with the witcher as they stood against each other dripping with their own wounds and blood; an understanding that they both could only comprehend and would silently agree to, "I understood Durriken now," he gave a firm nod, convincing himself for his sentences.

Geralt squinted his eyes back at the bard, judging him from the back of his head and reading between his lines.

Jaskier talked to Durriken when they've left the other day. He tried to know what they've talked about because the bard was full aware of how the switch has turned inside Geralt's peculiar, introverted mind from that moment in the marketplace.

Durriken knew before everything could even happen---perks of being a fortune teller, believing that you had a reason why you've arrived.

Jaskier raised a finger to his front, a sassy brow raised as he firmly claimed, "She's the witcher's destiny. The reason she's here is because..." pause. "---of you, Geralt."

Julian just couldn't keep still and watch everything unfold. He knew Geralt and what ticks him, understood the simplest gestures that had a whole lot of meaning behind it. Jaskier can't help but pry around when it involved the white wolf.

This was why he was the bard who stood by his side because he tried to understand him for who and what he was. A person who truly cared, a friend who truly accepted him; though, most of the times, he was there to annoy the shite out of him.

"And that's why she needs to be saved. I can't let her die, Bard." Geralt honestly spoke, the truth being said rather than staying silent like how he would usually do.

The bard has given him a satisfied smile, his beam widening once he jested, "Oooooooh! I've waited for this moment to come so I can finally say it after decades---In other words," he playfully bantered, finding the right words to get back for receiving his bluntness, "---you love her, Witcher. Don't you?"

Cirilla held the ripped, long, white clothing to her chest. The door to her room slightly opened as she tried to listen onto what they were arguing about, they weren't. The word 'love' peaking her attention when Jaskier lightly tried to poke on Geralt's honesty, irking him to the bones and hoping to get something out of his sudden uprightness.

Lo and behold, as soon as the witcher opened his pretty mouth, they were left disappointed from a hum that he'd habitually does everyday when he wanted to stay silent.

"Hmm."

Retrieving no answer from such an important, scandalous question that would be a fact once it was positively answer; a simple 'yes' would've been evidence that the white haired witcher was actually capable to experience a certain feeling that would make him more human than he can ever be.

All you could see was darkness. No visions nor imagery of where you were going as an empty sack has been forcefully placed around your head. Tybalt has kept you immobilized within his arms that surrounded you. The sack was needed so there was no risk of escaping which can happen if you knew your ways just like their previous capture who happened to be a thief that knew the directions of the kingdom.

The sack was tightened around your neck, making you choke once they roughly shoved your shoulders to move as you were curtly placed down by the vampire. Pavement. Rock pavement. You silently thought as you felt rough hands grip your arms so tight. On either side, they were controlling you and assuming who they were; you knew it was cavaliers.

The gates seem to open as you've heard the loud screeching of a sound. A couple of harsh tugs; here and there. Some offending remarks you've received when you tried to thrash against their holds. They were calling you 'the witcher's whore' or his tramp that made you frown behind the empty sack of potatoes used for your head.

Footfalls can be heard all around you. They were everywhere and all heavy, marching as if they have a purpose as to why they were there. There was no idea as to where they tried to confine you; in a large cage? a building where all their prisoners are there in jail? or were you in a castle? their palace?

The men on either side of you dragged you strengthfully towards where they wanted; making you bark back despite of being temporarily blind for their purpose.

"I know how to walk, okay?! Stop dragging me around like I'm your rag doll!"

Tybalt loudly scoffed from behind, walking through the stoned hallway that directed straight towards the hoosegow where an Elven has been kept for a month, "Prisoners shan't be complaining, ye' know?"

A loud thump and squeaking of a door made you hastily look around in panic; thinking that you might be thrown in a huge fireplace so your body can be burnt to dust because they knew your existence here didn't actually existed and if you do get to be cremated, nobody would even care.

Will Geralt try and save you for the third time?

From the day that you have been taken and cared for in their home, it was already an act of protection. He didn't think twice to adopt and let you have a part of their house; saving you from an Alghoul who was hunting you down and planning to make you its meal. But, Geralt killed it for you.

The white wolf has even killed men for you to feel sympathy for. When Geralt of Rivia protects one person, he would surely not think twice but to put an end towards their life; as long as they were evil or hurting another.

He was one of a kind and the affection you have for him needed label. You were understanding everything now; the care and worry you feel whenever he goes for his hunt, how the sting feels inside your heart whenever he tends to become a lot more quieter rather than usual, thinking that he was avoiding you because he'd realize how much of a burden you are in his life.

Also considering the feeling of happiness whenever he sweetly touches you, feeling his skin on yours like it was destined for sensations to occur. Sensations that only he can transpire out the the earth's perimeters.

You comprehended it very patently. It was love that you had for him. You hoped it was because lust or infatuation never has given the effects like what you've been interpreting from the witcher.

No secrets can't be revealed as long as it was true especially with undisclosed matters. Hence, you planned to tell Geralt as soon as you get to see him again.

That is, if your future around the Kaedwenians won't involve you and death rolled together as one.

Their tight grip has made your arms sore. You were flailing your arms away from their grasp and the violent reaction that they have gotten from resulted in you being pushed to the ground, creating your healing gash with another deep wound that made you yelp. They've quickly yanked the sack off your head; all unkempt from being cramped, hurriedly keeping you inside the slammer as they marched away to lock up the thick, metal railings like you've committed such a harsh crime.

You've held onto your scrapped knee, seeing blood on the pads of your finger and it made you aggressively scream from where you've laid hunched over the cold stones beneath you; igniting the tiny, surprised jump from the knights who were guarding your cell.

The tight coil on the top of your stomach was starting to move; meaning to say, another panic-attack was starting to give rise because of how uncomfortable and eerie does it felt to be in jail from the past era. It was more ominous and uncanny rather than what jail looked like in the modern period.

You were heaving breaths, turning around and staying flat on your bottom to see the armored men squinting their eyes back like you were some weird creature, the notion of being Geralt's lover sickening their bones as if they were much of a better man than he is. They weren't. Geralt was better than them---soul-wise. Their gauging eyes made you giggle aloud in a sarcastic tone.

"I can't believe you are all actually humans---"

The lock of the door jiggled, people behind the entrance loudly pushing it open; in which Tybalt and a lady with glowing purple eyes emerged from the hatch.

"My lady," Tybalt started with a sultry tone dripping on his tongue, subtly nodding his head off to where you were hunched over.

This woman in front of you didn't look entirely human after all, you mentally thought. Glowing purple eyes; with her shoulders rolled back with a head held up high, such stance that made her look powerful. It was enough to make you cower.

She was a beauty even. Utterly bewitching from a woman's perspective. A high bridged nose, glassy dark skinned complexion that came with a pouty lip. The grotesque woman was enchanting in the eyes of men if her physical aspects could make you dumbfounded.

"Incredible." the latter spoke in fascination, taking heedful steps close amongst the lines of metal hinges. The luminescence of a torch has caught her purple eyes, glowing against the light as if magic was flowing through her veins; utterly strange because no normal human had eyes like hers, nor have you seen one in Geralt's dimension up until today.

"Another...you," she continued, her eyes cast upon you when she took heed of your familiar face.

"---It's true. There has always been another dimension,"

You've looked around, avoiding her discretionary gaze, a gaze that held corruption or malign beneath the colorful hue of her beautiful colored irises. They were winsome; however, her allurement came with a thorn that would surely make you bleed when touched.

"I'm..I'm not---"

Straightforwardly, she pointed out with a silent and warning tut, "There is no use of lying, little one. You are talking to a sorceress,"

As that has been mentioned, you couldn't help but snap your head and turn to look at her. Your eyebrows knitted together with eyes scrutinizing her features. Was she the sorceress that Geralt has been in love with? you questioned mutely to your alter ego. Ingrith was hasty enough to know that judging look in your eyes because of how your witcher has been involved with sorceresses after sorceresses or mutant and mystical beings.

He was known for it and based on how you were judging her, your mind was also well aware of how infamous he had been with women.

Geralt of Rivia was given a lot to choose. Yet, he has chosen a powerless, vulnerable, less of a beaut than what he would've picked and Ingrith wanted to laugh for his choices---what he planned to be destined with a dangerous life ahead.

"You're the Yennefer one?"

"How do you know her, thief?"

An obvious shake of your head was given; shaking the worry away from seeing Geralt's long lost love working in a castle and also for the queen and king. That wasn't just the reason why you didn't want to see Yennefer anymore, another justification as to why you didn't want to was because of the bigger chances that you would be going home in one way or another when the white wolf wanted to because there was no proof or evidence that he wouldn't send you home. Sure, he has said several times already that you were his home---however, what if his feelings changes especially that his relationship with the sorceress has been ruined from a certain fight you didn't know about?

Did Geralt feel the same way about you? Was it love or merely just infatuation?

"Nevermind. You're not her." pause. "---also, why are you calling me a thief, lady?!"

Your eyebrows knotted closer than ever from her assumptions. It wasn't just Tybalt or his goons calling you a thief, even the sorceress too. Ingrith pulled away from the bars, dusting her gloved hands from the dust that was transferred to her leather mittens like the people sitting behind closed bars were infectious. She'd given Tybalt a look, her face indistinct of what she wanted to feel for seeing the real you.

She ignored your yapping as she asked the vampire beside her, "Are you sure she's destined with the witcher as a lover?"

Tybalt gave her a small nod, arms crossed in front of his chest as he watched you give him a glare back, "Yes, my lady. Last time I stabbed the little woman, the witcher was all feral, ye' know? It was quite fun to watch, nevertheless. This whore seems to be very important for him,"

"He'll be coming then."

Your knotted eyebrows suddenly went up your hairline at that. She sounded too enthusiastic for Geralt to come by; her voice masking a mixture of anticipation for seeing him and also hoping for something else when he arrives. It was a tone that only women could understand in their own language and you couldn't help but go livid.

She wanted something from your witcher and it doesn't look nor does it feel right because you could sense your eye twitch.

"Hey, sorceress of doom. I'm not a child. My womanhood is fully developed if you wanna know because you sound like you're insulting my height---thank you very much because that wasn't a first---Also, you sound like you want to fuck my witcher!---My witcher!" you bluntly stated, the tip of your tongue feeling vile and bitter from the truthfulness of your words. Jealousy being the root of it all and probably intimidation over this sorceress.

She wasn't that Yennefer yet. What if it was her already?

"---Find your own witcher! He's coming to save me, not give you a rumpy pumpy while you are all keeping me in prison!"

Ingrith could feel her temples have gotten flicked from that. Your attitude was making her blood boil---a know-it-all in a world you hardly knew about. She was beginning to come to a realization that your mouth needed barricade, it needed to know where you stood because apparently, she was having the upper hand and you were munching on her toe figuratively.

"Are you sure about that?" Ingrith spoke as a matter of fact; her lips curling into a sinister grin and this is what gets her going, "---you sound like you don't know your witcher too well, child."

"---You haven't heard the truest tales of him then. Your witcher loves to bed women in all brothels---Witchers leave all the time because that's what they do. They travel anywhere to hunt monsters,"

Your mouth was ready to throw curses after curses. A few steps close toward the bars made her grin wider to see your tough facade falter in the tiniest, seeing it from behind those confused eyes of yours. A mixture of fighting for what you had with a self destructing insecurity that makes you overthink of the future despite not talking it through with your mutant of a lover.

Ingrith didn't back down to that fight you have been mentally trying to assault as she was wiser to knowing your existence had a count down with them around.

She only needed to know where the portal was; options would be a sorceress back in your world which transported you to the continent. Second is a physical egress that has been never found nor discovered by anyone yet. From your kingdom to theirs. It wouldn't just be a theory because when the conjunction of spheres started, all hell broke lose in the continent. So, the idea wasn't completely a hypothesis that didn't hold zero percent chances of it.

All Ingrith needed was evidence and she will surely get the answers out of you even if she'll be using corporal punishments---even to the point of drawing blood until you say words she wanted to hear.

The sorceress began to wind you up a lot more, finding amusement from the reactions and tiny twitches of your face which tells how upset you are as she ran her mouth with endless gibes, "---your beloved Witcher can't be satisfied with one woman in all his life especially with a human like you because one ages slower over the other."

She crouched before you behind bars, gritting her teeth together like a feral hound trying to mark up his or her prey.

"You don't have magic. You aren't mutated and you die like normal men," Ingrith seethed, her eyes piercing and full of hatred towards you.

---Or maybe from mankind itself. You tried to understand where she was coming from or what she was taking a stand to. The sorceress in front of you thinks of herself as if she is higher than most human alive and probably a power-hungry feline where she would take revenge on whoever has hurt her.

It was that, or she just thinks she's above all because of the power and magic that she has been lucky to have.

"They have no capacity for emotion because of the combination of their hard training, genetic modifications, and seclusion from society. I suppose love is important and heartfelt in your world, correct?" the sorceress articulated with a scorn, "---Not to Witchers, my dear. I doubt he would love you as you expect him to. You'll only be the woman who tried to substitute over Yennefer of Vengerberg's position,"

You've given her a petulant expression and a moue that could make plants wither from the hate of seeing the sorceress. She couldn't help but send a ridicule as Ingrith also feels the same, "You are not special. The Witcher needs a person who does not give him more weight on his back---he needs a strong, independent woman who can save herself from being locked inside a cage and not screaming help for him,"

Ingrith of Helmfirth brought to a stand, her eyes throwing daggers over your kneeling form. You were easy to intimidate and certainly effortless to scare away just by the height differences. She simply chuckled when all you've ever done was give her a purse of your lips and a death stare that has probably killed her inside your head for a lot of times already; yet, you were helpless, inundated and incapable of doing such from a mortal.

She knew it; sensed that you held no magic.

"I didn't need you attacking me this way," you quipped with a shake of your head, sighing from the tiring conversation that was taking a toll on you no matter how unaffected you try to appear. But, you were futile to their world and even to a government that was quite unfamiliar to you, authorities that didn't care about the welfare and lives of people.

Sitting back on your derriere with your legs in a criss-cross position, you've held your guard down and went on with the flow. Suddenly, on the midst of prompting down in a comfortable position, you've heard the metal door swinging open and saw the sorceress holding up a hand to you like she had some repulsor; thinking she was Iron Man from how she pointed her palm at your face.

Your face was warped in irritation and ambiguity. You knew what she was doing; her magic is what it is. With a slap of her hand away from your face, barks of remarks has been said out in the open, "What? you need a high five after insulting me like that? even had to pry over what relationship I have with Geralt?---or are you Iron Man dressed as a lady? am I in the MCU?"

The vicious sorceress had a nonplussed look on her face, analyzing what was wrong with the spell she tried to cast upon you, but it seems like her runes has been blocked by someone or something she couldn't understand. Ingrith knelt before you and quickly grabbed onto your throat, her fingers roughly wresting along the line of your jaw as she made you look into her eyes.

None. You had no magic; really knew no witchcraft.

"You should be fainting right now," she lowly mumbled to herself, her gaze intently examining your face while you spat out dry cough from being choked alive, gagging in the process of being pounced on.

"Excuse---E-Excuse me, I'm not. You---You suck! You're not a real sorceress then!"

Until such time, she'd realize the light, chain of metal attached to your neck. Ingrith has straightaway pulled the collar of your sweater down until it has been slightly ripped off. You yelped and resisted to comply from her wishes. However, she'd slapped you hard enough on the same spot as Tybalt did which has made you cease from shrieking as the ache in your jaw started to double up more than ever.

They were literally treating you like a doll that they could hurt or ignite pain and you want nothing more than to see Geralt and lull you to sleep, being taken care of by your own witcher as he tells stories about his adventures with Jaskier or Cirilla, appreciating the difference of being in his family's arms and the people whom they've warned you about.

They have been right all along.

Ingrith pulled the collar down until she'd seen such Cicatrix engraved in between the valley of your chest; the medallion of the Witcher and his school, you were destined to be with him and to create a progeny---his progeny in this world you were in. The lesion now looked like a birthmark, turning darker against your skin and it was enough to presume that the process has finally began.

Along came with an ornament; specifically, the fae necklace that had enchantments to rebound ill-fate has turned from coral green to black like her incantations have been reversed.

"Impossible!" she exclaimed in the middle of the slammer, the Elven who was in the same stockade you were in has given her a look from her loud guffaws, "---you're under a curse---the Warp of the souls. Who'd curse you?"

The sorceress urgently demanded, her fingers tugging your arm as she pulled you closer to her face; seeing the beauty you once saw turn monstrous over the hate that was controlling her to live.

You shook your head, eyes all wide from the frustration, anger and hopelessness being confined inside a dungeon, "I don't know! I haven't met any mages except for you, bitch!"

Ingrith pushed you off to the side, making you stumble on your back flat that has made you groan.

"You're being protected," she stood up on her feet and dusted off her hands straight to your face; all feral with barred teeth, you've given her the stink eye and a nasty scowl, wanting to spit of her foot for her malign, "---Did the witcher find you a Djinn and planned to throw you off back to where you came from?"

"I'm not fucking answering you!" you loudly yelled, voice echoing inside the stoned slammer.

"It is a yes, then."

The sorceress turned away at that, paving her way to the entrance of your spectral, cold cage. She stepped out of the hatch with a lour and most likely with such ire, the curse being a stronger fuel to the fire as she scanned you from head to foot, her gaze lingering longer on your stomach.

Her glowing purple eyes that was quite difficult to decipher when she'd step out of the cage has made you hold a hand on your belly. Why was she staring at you in a way as if she was planning something? did she wanted to eat your intestines?

"---It's that...kind of wish, Tybalt."

Her right hand man has been silent all through out your conversation with the sorceress. The vampire kept his mouth shut, listening to what information they could earn from Ingrith's interrogation. He immediately understood what she meant about 'that kind of wish,' and it was confusing him because of the Witcher's inability to conceive such children.

Tybalt was thinking that your existence never had any reason as to why you've stumbled across the continent. Unless, you've been brought by destiny to produce and make miracles for Geralt's life?

The sorceress leaned closer, her mouth near to his ear as she quietly spoke; not risking for you to hear, "Starve her. Leave her alone with the Elf until The Witcher arrives---or better yet, cudgel her until she speaks answers." she huffed a breath, full of detest over what powerful being was protecting you from her---your curse making her loathe you even more as you were fertile enough to give Geralt an offspring. He shouldn't have been given that luck because he was destined to be completely barren. But, here you were being a complete wonder as to why the curse was a success.

Ingrith hated the concept of an offspring especially that she was also an infertile woman and she couldn't risk the likelihood of a child and its genesis of being a successful heir of a djinn's given malediction; a byproduct of the spirit's potentials in one human to be protected by a witcher.

It could be a threat to her and you were certainly a hazard that she needed to control.

The sorceress speedily left the cell with Tybalt following suit. Her palms itching to go berserk over being futile to your existence, "---She must not produce an heir with the witcher," she sauntered through the path with raging blood. The higher vampire swiftly tugging onto her wrist with his agility.

"But, witchers are infertile, my lady. I doubt they may produce a child,"

"She's made a wish. She has never been infertile from the start nor is she mutated. This thief does not possess such magic but she can give the witcher a child as long as she's protected by the Djinn. The Djinn would give their heir his own magic to create madness in this world which is why she's under a curse. Their child will hold power that no one can ever understand with the help of it,"

"---To make sure of it, we shan't walk around bushes. Spells or maybe poison shall do the trick. We don't need another damned prodigy in this world!"

Tybalt has given her a look, puffing out his frustrations for how she was a foot farther away from the future. The sorceress and her intentions was thoroughly getting out of hand from the moment the prince has been cursed for years. They were present when the curse for the prince has started; more so, Ingrith lasted longer than him in the castle from the moment he was seized by her when she was younger and he respected her for it, even thankful for abducting her when he was a vagrant.

"Ingrith, this is beyond the plan," he spoke through gritted teeth; tightly clutching onto her arm. She raise a brow back at him with a sarcastic reply.

"Do you want the witcher to have a child who may possess black magic then?" Tybalt shut his mouth at that, listening to her reasons and opinion about the whole tragedy that was about to happen in the future, "---you don't even know who that child with Ashen hair is. She can't be his child---he's protecting her from someone---even the thief because she is having his child,"

Ingrith forcefully yanked his hold away from her arm, giving him a sharp look of warning as she continued her gaslighting, "I remembered saving you when you were down and dirty, covered in grime in the caves because you have been abandoned as a higher vampire from your guild,"

The higher vampire's features turned adamantine; features withdrawn and never believing what words he was receiving as it felt like she was making him feel the indeptedness for taking him in.

Ingrith couldn't help but give him a mordant smile of her lips, tilting her head back at him as they stood in front of each other; eye to eye as they both had the same height. She'd seen and read the look within his eyes, conceding to her request of assenting over what side she was trying to fight as her own opinions is what matters and has always been right.

"You're strong, Tybalt. Stronger than the witcher. His sword is no match for you. You're smarter, agile and inevitable. Though, you have a weakness and I suggest you fight that vulnerability of yours---that foolish sympathy for humanity because pity for others isn't what this world needs,"

Taglist for WOTN: (Strikethrough means you couldn’t be tagged, Bb. Please check your settings) @alyxkbrl @himarisolace @barkingbullfrog @ayamenimthiriel @hellodevilslittlesister @turkish276 @spookypeachx @grungelovebug @fangirl-inthe-us @nympeth @amirahiddleston @gabethelobster @dreaming-about-starfleet @uncoolcloudyhead @melaninstylezz @psychosupernaturalhero @missjenniferb @dance-dreamer @marvelousell @kingniazx @angelias134 @tapismyforte @chook007 @covid-donotenter @deadlydemon @cheesecakeisapie @angelofthor @carrieannewaywardson, @plantingmum @stuckupstucky, @shesthelastjedi, @a–1–1–3, @gutfucks, @raynosaurus-rex, @britty443, @suhke3, @shadowclawstudio88

Overall witcher taglist: @pizza-eater-i-ate-the-pizza, @crazybutconfidentaf

General taglist for Henry Cavill: @agniavateira, @iloveyouyen, @rahdaleigh, @silverkitten547 @henrythickcavill @kaatelyyynn

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betwecouldmakesome · 3 years

Text

car full of moments untold

fandom: julie and the phantoms

pairing: luke/reggie/alex and julie/flynn

word count: 3,656

read here on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27090439

Julie watches critically as Luke and Reggie seemingly play Tetris with everyone’s bags to get them to fit into the trunk of Alex’s Subaru outback. She isn’t sure why they have so much packed, they only plan on being gone 3 weeks. Flynn made sure to mark where their route and local laundry mats overlap so lack of clean clothes shouldn’t be an issue.

She also has a sneaking suspicion that one of Luke’s duffle bags is entirely beanies. She’s going to let it slide, knowing she’ll end up borrowing them.

She, however, won’t let whatever Reggie is trying and failing to smuggle into the car by hiding it behind his leather jacket, slide.

“Reginald!” Julie calls as she pushes off from the garage she was leaning against, hiding her smile when he jumps and flails. He looks to Luke for help, who shrugs and gives him a look, one she knows means “you’re on your own dude” before he heads back inside.

Reggie leans against the car and brings his hand up to hold his leather jacket closer to him, “Hey! Julie, fancy seeing you here, how’s it going? I’m doing fantastic, totally not doing anything."

“Whatcha got there?” she asks, purposefully ignoring his question and pointedly looks at his hand. Now that she’s closer, she can make out that the something he is holding is moving.

“What? this?” He lifts his hand and chuckles nervously before rubbing at the back of his neck, “it’s just uh, my binder? Yeah! my binder! I wanted to make sure I have a few extras on the trip just in case?” It sounded more like a question then anything.

Julie hums, knowing the boys made sure their binders were the first bags packed. They even checked to make sure they were in the car three times.

It only takes 13 seconds of making direct eye contact with him before he cracks, which to be fair, is a new record for him.

“Okay! Stop giving me the disappointed mom face.” Reggie sighs. He pulls his hand out from underneath his jacket, revealing Miss Petunia, his pet corn snake.

Julie continues to stare at him, slowly raising her eyebrows higher.

“Okay! Okay I’m going” He turns around heading back inside, presumably to give Petunia to Carlos who agreed to take care of her while they were away.

Julie sighs, this is going to be a long trip.

«»

They haven’t even made it out of Los Angeles before it starts.

“Why does Luke get shotgun?” Reggie complains, shoving his upper body between the two front seats.

“Because I won rock-paper-scissors.” Luke says, shoving Reggie back by his forehead. He sounded way too proud for someone who won a child’s game that involves no skill.

“Why is that how we always decide things? I always lose” Reggie pouts, crossing his arms across his chest.

“That’s why we do.” Luke laughs, quickly flattening himself against the door when Reggie lurches forward again.

“Hey! Cut it out. Reggie put your seatbelt on, you can switch with him when we stop.” Alex interjects, his gaze flickering between the road and Reggie.

«»

They’ve only been back on the highway ten minutes when Julie slurps down the rest of her slushie, noisily sucking on air at the end. It only takes a few seconds of her shifting around before she leans forward and announces her need to pee. Reggie and Luke quickly agree with her, although Luke looks sheepish about it.

“Seriously?” Flynn asks, raising a less than impressed eyebrow.

“Why didn’t you go at the gas station?” Alex also is not impressed but his eyebrows are less expressive then Flynn’s.

“I didn’t have to go then” Julie defends, Luke and Reggie nod in agreement.

“This is why Flynn is my favorite.” Alex complains. Although he changes lanes to get off at the next exit, so it doesn’t hold much weight

«»

It is pushing half past nine before Alex decides they’re done for the day. They planned on driving until eleven but there are only so many road games that he can take. If he had to listen to one more game of eye spy, he was going to drive them straight off a bridge. Flynn, the goddess she is, finds them a motel to stay in with two available rooms and reads off the directions to him.

For the first time since they left, silence takes over the car when they pull up to the motel. The place is creepy looking, like straight out of a horror movie.

After spending about a good twenty minutes trying to convince Reggie the motel is not haunted and that they won’t die, they cautiously make their way up the old rickety stairs leading to the second floor. They all jump when a loud clang echoes out from the alleyway and quickly scuffle up the rest of the stairs and into their respective rooms.

Alex lets out a relieved sigh, locking the door behind them and looks around the room. It’s not as bad as he was expecting. There is a weird smell he can’t, and doesn’t, want to identify, but it looks relatively clean.

Reggie comes out of the bathroom with Luke right behind him, both now having taken off their binders, changed into pajamas, and brushed their teeth. Reggie drops his backpack at the end of the bed and flops next to it, immediately grabbing the tv remote, “I’m so tired, driving is exhausting.”

Luke shoves at Reggie till he groans and moves to the top of the bed. Reggie takes the side farthest from the door and Luke lays beside him, taking the middle as he called dibs on it, “You didn’t even drive, Alex did all the work.”

Alex listens to them bicker while he brushes his teeth, dreading going back out there. He might have been the one to convince Reggie the motel wasn’t haunted but that does not mean he wants to sleep closest to the door. He spits out the mouthwash and heads back into their room, not at all surprised to see Reggie already asleep cuddled into Luke who looks seconds away from passing out himself. Alex smiles softly and shuts off the lights, he leaves the tv on but turns the volume down. He slides in next to Luke, who immediately, even in his half-asleep state wraps his arm around him and pulls Alex closer to him, burying his face into Alex’s neck. It doesn’t take Alex long to fall asleep, the comfort of laying with his boyfriends outweighing the worry of being haunted.

«»

Julie and Flynn wait till ten am for the boys to wake up before giving up and going to explore the town on their own. They walk down main street, hands intertwined, weaving their way through the crowds of people, stopping at any store that catches their eye.

So far, they had stopped at a local café for coffee, a bookstore where they got books for themselves and for each of the boys. Their favorite spot so far was a thrift store that they spent most of their morning trying on the most ridiculous clothing items they could find. and were now googling places they could go next.

Flynn keeps her attention on her phone as she walks, googling places they could go next. She glances up once and awhile but mostly relying on Julie to make sure she doesn’t run face first into a pole. She hums in question when Julie tugs at her arm, only to get her arm tugged on harder in response.

“Look!”

“What? Is there another dog in a stroller?” she asks, locking her phone and sliding it into her back pocket.

Julie grins and points across the street, “We have to go there.”

Flynn eyes where Julie is pointing and grins back at her, letting Julie pull her across the street to where a tiny tourist trap store is.

The bell rings when they push open the door. The person behind the counter jumps at their arrival, startled by the bell, and plasters a smile on their face before just nodding at them in greeting and goes back to flipping through their magazine.

They decide to split up and peruse the shelves for Knick Knacks. Looking for gifts for their families and funny things for the boys.

Julie ends up getting Carlos a snow globe with a ghost inside, her dad a joke book, a pair of earrings for her tía, some shoelaces with rainbows on them for Alex, and two cowboy hats for Luke and Reggie.

Flynn gets her mom a scented candle gift set, her dad a 1,000-piece puzzle of the town, her older brothers each a screaming goat figurine and a world’s okayest brother coffee mug, an assorted pack of stickers for cryptids for Alex, a pair of socks with ostriches on them for Luke, and a kid leash for Reggie.

(She got him a stuffed horse as a real gift but the look on his face, and the laughter from everyone else, when she hands him the leash is worth spending the extra money.)

«»

It takes 3 days and too many coffees and red bulls for them to get Alex to let Julie drive.

It takes an additional 15 minutes for them to convince him that they will not, under any circumstances, let Luke drive, before he hands over the keys and climbs into the back with Luke and Reggie, falling asleep in seconds.

«»

They are somewhere in Arizona when it becomes evident that it is too hot to keep driving. The temperature pushing 106° Fahrenheit and they are sweating through their t-shirts, hair sticking to the nape of their necks. They are practically all climbing over each other to get out of the car when Alex slows to a stop, having found a river nearby to stop at. Reggie and Luke collapse on the grass under the shade of a tree, leaving Alex, Flynn, and Julie to rummage through the bags for their bathing suits. They jerk upwards with a yelp when Julie throughs their swim trunks and tank tops at them, managing to hit them right in the face.

Luke is the first one changed and immediately runs towards the water. He dives under as soon as it’s deep enough before coming up again just as quick, a wide grin on his face as he shakes out his hair.

“Last one in has to pay for dinner!” He yells out.

The rest of them all share a look before sprinting towards him, letting out battle cry’s as they hit the water

«»

After spending a few hours having chicken fights and wading through the water they decide to camp out beside the river for the night. Alex makes a quick trip to the nearest store to get the supplies to make sandwiches and s’mores, Reggie and Flynn oversee the fire while Luke and Julie set up their sleeping bags.

They settle into their sleeping bags, the sound of crickets chirping, the river flowing, and the crackling of dying embers from fire the only noise, everyone silent as they look up at the stars. It’s dark, the fire barely going anymore, the moon and bright stars now their only light source. It’s peaceful and reassuring in a way the city could never be.

“What if we didn’t go back?” It’s Luke who whispers it, but it doesn’t matter, they were all thinking it, this is the most relaxed they’ve felt in forever.

«»

They take lots of pictures during their trip, snapping them whenever they get a chance. Photos of Luke, Flynn, and Julie passed out in the back seat, cuddled up and drooling on each other. Videos of Reggie yelling “Horses!” and pressing his face against the window every time they drive by any and Alex saying “if you do that one more time, I swear I’m going to crash the car” every time. They take pictures of themselves at every state sign they pass, and every landmark they visit. They take pictures of the scenery, the sun rising and setting. There are videos of them singing along to the radio at the top of their lungs. They have videos of every dumb stunt the others try, videos of them joking and laughing. They take as many as they can, trying to capture every moment, hoping to savor as much as they can.

«»

It takes Julie and Flynn 5 days to realize Reggie and Alex never call their parents.

It takes a few more for them to realize Luke doesn’t answer when his do.

«»

Julie and Flynn are leaning against each other drifting in and out of sleep, Luke already snoring in the passenger seat when they get startled awake by Alex swearing loudly and slamming on his breaks before making a U-turn.

“Alex! What the hell?” Julie yells, smacking the back of his headrest repeatedly.

He swats at her hand halfheartedly, “We forgot Reggie at the last stop!”

They all exchange a look, knowing they will never hear the end of this.

«»

Alex knows, rationally that it’s dumb to worry. Reggie can take care of himself, but there’s still a hollow feeling in his stomach as he pulls back into the run-down gas-station. He sure they’ll laugh about it later, just another funny story to tell, but the silence that hangs in the air as they pull in to see Reggie nowhere in sight is chilling.

As soon as the car is in park, they all spill out, running across the parking lot and into the building.

Reggie is fine, of course. They find him sitting on the checkout counter, kicking his legs back and forth as he chats with the cashier who’s working. He beams when he notices them, waving at them with the hand he is holding a hotdog in.

“Hey guys!”

Alex is the first one to react. He rushes forward and pulls Reggie into a tight hug, lifting him right off the counter, “Oh my god, I’m so sorry.”

Reggie hugs him back at laughs against his neck. “Took you long enough.”

«»

They get ten miles down the road before Reggie clutches his stomach and groans, “I’m gonna hurl.”

They pull over three more times for him to throw up before deciding to stop for the night.

Reggie swears that he is never eating another hotdog again.

«»

It’s six am, raining and gloomy out as they leave the motel. It is entirely too early after checking in after midnight. Alex wordlessly hands the keys to Julie and climbs into the back, Reggie and Luke both still half asleep following him.

They don’t wake up for another few hours and even then, it’s not by choice, it’s by the girls shaking them awake. Flynn hands the cardboard tray with 3 coffees back to them and goes back to quietly talking to Julie.

Reggie yawns and takes a sip of theirs, leaning forward after to kiss the girls on the cheek in thanks.

“It’s a Them day.” They say, slouching back against Luke. They only stay awake long enough to hear the groups hums or mumbled “okay’s” in acknowledgment.

«»

They get a flat tire in the middle of nowhere. A straight stretch of road going for miles and big open fields going as far as they can see.

“Shit,” Alex swears under his breath and looks to Reggie hopefully, who shakes his head and looks to Luke, only to get a sheepish shrug in response.

“Shit.” Alex repeats, louder this time.

Julie and Flynn exchange a glance before rolling up their sleeves, “We’ve got this, boys.”

“How did you know how to do that?” Reggie asks in awe, as the girls stand back up while wiping the dirt of their hands. The flat tire now replaced by the spare.

“My mom taught us.”

“We’d be lost without you.” Luke grins.

Flynn pulls him into a side hug and ruffles his hair, “Damn right you would.”

«»

Alex pokes at the paint on his cheeks, checking to see if it was dry. He had rainbow stripes on one side, and purple, white, and green on the other. He had been the one put in charge of doing everyone’s face paint and he had waited to do his own last. Luke had the demiboy flag painted on one cheek and the ace flag on the other. His nails painted pink, yellow, and blue, and is wearing a crop top with a trans flag wrapped around him like a cape. Reggie had Alex paint the genderfluid flag and trans flag onto his face, and his nails painted with the bi flag colors. Julie has the demigirl colors on one cheek and the bi colors on the other, with an ace flag wrapped around her. Flynn has dark orange, light orange, white, pink, and dark pink, representing the lesbian flag painted onto both cheeks.

Alex reaches around Reggie to grab his trans flag, the last part of his outfit, and wraps it around his shoulders.

Julie claps her hands together, getting everybody’s attention, “Everyone ready?”

Reggie lets out a shout of excitement, grabbing Alex and Luke’s hands, lacing his fingers with their own and tugging them out the door. Julie and Flynn follow them, shaking their heads and laughing as they watch all three of them try and walk down the narrow staircase side by side.

«»

“I’m dying.” Reggie gasps out, dramatically flinging themself over a rock.

“We’re almost there, it’s just a few more minutes.” Julie reassures them, the rest of the group taking the opportunity to stop and rest. All of them had woken up at five am to hike a mountain and watch the sun rise. The trail was about two miles, and this was the third time Reggie had announced that they were dying, although this one was more dramatic than the others.

“You’ve been saying that for the last 20 minutes!”

“Well this time I mean it.”

“Luke.” Reggie whines, drawing out the name as they shift their gaze to Luke, who is pouring some of his water over his head.

“No.”

“Babe! Please, I’m dying here.”

Luke sighs and rolls his eyes before crouching down, not being able to resist Reggie’s puppy dog eyes, “Hop on.”

Reggie cheers, jumping up onto his back, “Have I told you how much I love you?”

“I think you should remind me.” Luke grins, tilting his head back towards Reggie.

“Maybe I will.” They laugh, leaning forward and press their lips against Luke’s, smiling into the kiss.

“Hey!” Alex calls after them, “I’d like to be reminded too.”

“You were going to let me die, you don’t get any kisses.” Reggie looks back over their shoulder, sticking their tongue out at him.

“Well I’m the one carrying the food so maybe you should reconsider.”

“Are you bribing me?”

“I don’t know, is it working?” Alex asks.

“Yes. Yes, it is.” Reggie slaps at Luke’s shoulder, telling him to let them down.

Julie and Flynn make their way around them, wanting to make it to the top of the mountain in time.

Reggie skips down to Alex and wraps their arms around Alex’s neck, pulling him down to kiss them.

“So, can I have a snack now?”

«»

“Guys,” Flynn looks at the scene before her in exasperation, “I was gone for literally five minutes.”

“We know, help now scold later.” Reggie shifts, trying to yank his foot out for underneath Julie

“How did you even manage this?”

“We couldn’t decide which one of us got to sit in the cart and we thought we could all fit.” Julie peaks her head out from behind Luke. She blows a piece of hair out of her face so she can see, only for it to fall right back.

“You too, Alex?” Flynn asks.

Alex shrugs, looking guilty, “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“You’re apart of a human pretzel!”

“We won’t do it again, just get us out. I have to pee, and Luke is crushing my bladder.”

“Hey! at least you don’t have Reggie’s knees in your back,” Luke argues, “and I’m not even that- wait, Flynn are you taking pictures?”

“Oh yeah, definitely” She nods.

«»

“That’s the fourth store we’ve gotten kicked out of this week.” Flynn complains, glaring at the grocery store.

“That’s not too bad.”

“Luke, It’s Wednesday.”

«»

They sit on a pier in silence, feet dangling off the edge as they lean with their upper bodies over the bottom railing. The sun is setting, gradually receding into the waters below. The sky is more purple than red now, further indicating that their night is coming to an end.

It had been a few hours since they made their way away from the carnival that was bustling with activity to somewhere quieter. Further away from the bright lights and loud music, the yells excitement and overwhelming noise of big crowds of people all talking and closer to the sounds of waves crashing against shore and seagulls squawking.

Julie picks at her cotton candy, ripping a piece off and hands it to Alex, who accidently dropped his into the ocean below them.

“Maybe we don’t go back.” Again, It’s Luke who says it. He sounds more confident this time.

“Are parents would kill us,” Alex says. He looks down awkwardly when Luke looks at him pointedly.

“Okay, Ray would kill us.”

“Hey! Ray’s cool, he would never.” Reggie objects.

“We can’t just not go back, right?” Alex looks around at each of them, “Could we?”

Flynn shrugs, “I hear Maine is really pretty in the Fall.”

«»

Ray is cool and he does not kill them. His exact response is “I get it, I’ll miss you! Stay safe and be careful. Send post cards. And because I’m being so cool about it, you get to be the one to tell your tía.”

#car full of moments untold #luke x reggie x alex #julie x flynn #luke patterson #reggie peters #alex mercer #julie molina #flynn jatp #jatp #julie and the phantoms #jatp fic #julie and the phantoms fic #userdhylen #naomi's content

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readyplayerhobi · 4 years

Text

Flower | 06

; Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Fluff, slight angst

; Word Count: 2.7k

; Synopsis: You finally decide to take a dip into the world of online dating and find the Flower dating app. One of the top matches for you proves to be a guy who looks to be your complete opposite; tattooed, pierced, a metalhead and oh…incredibly handsome. What happens when you throw caution to the wind and reach out to him?

; A/N: Another part :D please let me know what you think and all that jazz. If you enjoyed it, please consider reblogging to let others find it too! :)

; Flower Masterpost

You don’t get very long to swoon over the date to yourself, for the very next morning you wake up to an abundance of texts from your two very impatient best friends. It’s a wonder your phone has any battery left given how many messages they’d sent into the group chat you all shared and it’s with more than a little bemusement that you respond to them both by asking if they’d sent enough.

That had only inspired a barrage of even more messages, leading to you simply telling them both to come over. They would have done that anyway, you knew that, but the official invitation at least gave them the excuse that they were wanted.

Which they were, because of course you wanted to gush and squeal to them along with analyse every bit of the previous nights date. It had been too late when you came home for them to come over and you’d felt tired, bone-weary even. Unlike your effervescent friends, you often liked to say that you had a social battery.

You were happy to socialise with people you got on with and understood until that battery depleted, upon which you simply wanted to go home and recharge. People took a lot out of you, and events like last night were particularly draining for you due to your nerves.

As such, you’d gone to sleep at 11pm and ended up sleeping straight through till 10am, completely oblivious to the impatience of your best friends. But now they were here, in the living room of your small apartment and practically sitting on you in their desperation to hear all about your night of debauchery.

That was a joke, they knew you well enough to know that would never happen.

Though they had been thoroughly entertained by his dick vomit story. Poor guy. He hadn’t even met them and now he was forever associated with a story like...that. You’d apologise whenever you saw him again, or at least before they ever got to introduce themselves.

Still, it was fun though as you retold the events of the night to them. They were charmed by the fact he’d taken you to an escape room and you knew that it meant a lot to them that he’d been so careful and sweet regarding your shy personality. The fact that you were talking about him with such enthusiasm and that tiny smile that said you were trying to hold back a grin told them everything and you sensed their overwhelming happiness for you.

“I can’t believe you went on a rant about to milk an almond.” Chungha groans, dainty hand slapping at her forehead before she runs her fingers through her long, ice-blonde hair. Her face was completely empty of makeup but you’d already promised her that you’d do it for her later. She had a date herself tonight, which you and Soyeon were pleased about.

Unlike you though, she’d met this guy through her work. You hoped it would be good for her though, even if boyfriends did often take your friends away from you for a while.

“Well he started it. Or did I? I don’t remember. Either way, he completely agreed with me. The first people to do things must have been truly wild. I mean, think about it. Who was the first person to look at a cow’s udder and go ‘...I’m gonna have me some of that!’” You point out, eyes wide as you tried to convince them of your point.

Both of them just stared at you before Soyeon sighed deeply, flopping back onto the couch and shifting until her fluffy sock covered feet were in your lap. You pushed at them lightly, nose turning up but she ignored you completely, just letting out a deep groan.

“I mean...you’re not wrong. It is weird. But that is so not first date conversation!” She lets out another groan that sounds almost like it comes from her stomach and you feel your body heat up in embarrassment.

“Well he didn’t complain. If anything, he encouraged it. Asked me how do you milk an oat?” Your voice is defensive, lips pursed in a petulant pout and there’s silence from them both for a minute. And then Chungha is running her fingers down your arm with a defeated smile, shaking her head.

“It sounds like you’ve got a winner there girl.” Everything goes quiet for a few minutes after that and you feel the stirring of anxiety and panic in your stomach that you’d done something wrong. It only takes the tiniest signal from your brain before your body goes into overdrive, muscles tightening while everything feels like a livewire and your mind begins to run over the date obsessively, picking over anything that you think you were too forward or stupid on.

Anything to prove that you’d made an idiot out of yourself and that you would never hear from Jung Hoseok again.

“Do you think I messed up?” The words are so soft, every syllable laced tightly with fear and worry as you stare down at the fuzzy pink socks Soyeon is wearing. They have prancing unicorns on them and pretty rainbows. You’d bought her them for Christmas last year and had a matching pair of your own in your extensive sock drawer.

The two of them don’t need to be experts to hear the vulnerability in your voice and they’ve both known you long enough to know that your mind is compulsively finding ways to convince you that everything went wrong. That Hoseok had been weirded out by you and didn’t want to see you again, despite his commitment to texting you.

Guys did that, didn’t they? Said they’d text or call and never did.

Maybe it was a stereotype or something. Who knows. But the sickness in your stomach tells you that it’s probably true here.

“Hey, hey no. Don’t do this. Don’t do it sweetie, don’t you dare take a good and fun date like that and twist it negative in that pretty head of yours. It genuinely sounds like you both had a great time. And you said yourself that he didn’t complain about your conversations, he even encouraged them and went along with you! He sounds like a great guy!” Chungha says earnestly, grasping your hand tightly between her own and squeezing with an encouraging smile.

Soyeon pokes at your stomach with a toe, giving you her own smile from where her head rests on the large Pusheen pillow that sits with pride on your couch. You hate touching feet so you don’t do anything, simply give her a glare that just causes her to smile prettily.

Unlike Chungha, she has nothing this afternoon so has decreed that she will be spending her time with you instead. You both had a ton of true crime documentaries to watch on Netflix!

“He does. And he walked you to your car. Besides all that, you sound into him. Don’t talk yourself out of it.” Chewing on your lip, you let out a quiet hum and shrug your shoulders. As much as you love your best friends, it was sometimes frustrating when all you wanted to do was vent and be negative when they were so persistent on cheering you up.

You knew why they were doing it, and you appreciated it. But getting out of your slumps had always been hard. And your mind found it far easier to destroy happy moments than to let go of the negative.

“Yeah but…” Chungha places her hand over your mouth gently, pressing just hard enough that you can’t say anything before raising her brows with a soothing smile.

“No but’s. They’re not allowed in this conversation. Not unless you want to tell us what his butt was like. I mean...did you see it? Not naked obviously, but like...you know...in his jeans. Some guys have amazing asses.” And with that, you chuckle, the looming aura of sadness still prevalent inside you but momentarily pushed aside as you recall her ex. He had indeed been blessed with an ass.

“Ahh...unfortunately not. He looks like one of those guys who’s...moderately blessed in that department. Not that I was looking. Well I was totally looking. But he fills his jeans nicely, so there’s that.”

“Yeah but he has tattoos and piercings. That makes up for any lack of bubble butt. Besides, you don’t wanna date a guy with a better ass than you. That’s just depressing. Think of the squat envy you’d have.” That comes from your splayed out friend, slapping her own thighs with a pout and you roll your eyes at her, thoroughly amused.

“Please, you don’t have to worry about any butt envy or anything. Your ass is fine. My ass has too much going on anyway, maybe I should give some to him.” You lightly pinch Soyeon’s leg, laughing as she yelped and then pouted at you, rubbing at the place before waving her feet in your face.

Immediately you’re recoiling away, landing almost on top of Chungha who just watches you both playfight with exasperation.

“Maybe so, but it’s nice to have something to grip you know? Both male and female.” Soyeon says with a grin, wiggling her brows at you suggestively and you heat up at the idea of grabbing Hoseok’s ass like that. And then you think about him grabbing yours and you can practically feel the ghost of his hands on you.

It makes you shudder in delight, the fantasy a wonderful image and Soyeon giggles as she feels the movement from you.

“Oooh, you like that. You wanna touch Hoseok’s ass?” She teases and you stick your tongue out at her childishly.

“Okay...in the interest of honesty...I want to lick every tattoo he has until I’ve committed them all to memory and then just...bite him. Anywhere. I don’t even care where. Oh god, his neck. Guys...his neck is just so freaking...urgh. And his fingers! Argh, they’re just...long and perfect and all I could think was…” You break off then, body heating as you squirm at the thought of everything you’d just said while you press your hands to your hot cheeks, embarrassed at what you’d blurted out.

Everything was the truth and you knew that they could tell. What you most certainly were not telling them was that you’d imagined tracing along his tattoos with your tongue. Which had then led on to a delightful fantasy of him pleasuring you with his own tongue, that delightful ball piercing combining with those long fingers in your mind until his name had been a gasped prayer of satisfaction and pleasure in the quietness of the night.

And then suddenly your phone vibrates, the sound loud on the table in front of you and all three of you jump in alarm at it. There’s a moment of silence before you all look at each other and laugh, feeling ridiculous that you’d all gotten scared of a phone notification of all things.

Reaching out, you grunt as Soyeon accidentally kicks you in the stomach before your fingers grasp your phone. Your friends were adamant that your phone case was uncool, but you didn’t care. You liked the flip phone case, the design a cute and overly cartoonish strawberry in hot pink and mint green.

Eyes widening, you stare at the lit-lock screen in disbelief before Chungha is poking at your arm, leaning over to try and see what’s got you so shocked.

“What is it? Has your dad accidentally posted in your family chat again?” Yeah, he was never living that moment down when he’d accidentally sent a sext that was supposed to be for your mom into your family group chat. “Is it...oh my god. It’s him! Soyeon! He’s texted!”

Her squeal is appallingly loud, causing you to turn and glare at her yet you can’t find it in yourself to shush her. Because you want to squeal loudly as well as she’s right, it’s Hoseok. He’s texted. Like he said he was.

“Isn’t it supposed to be too over eager to text the next day?” Is all you say, your tone confused and you recognise that what you’ve just said it stupid. But you can’t think properly right now because all you feel is pure elation that sizzles and crackles in your veins, the nausea of panic earlier to now turn into nausea of excitement while you try your hardest not to smile.

He’d texted. Just like he said he would.

“Oh shut up woman. Are you seriously gonna turn him down messaging you?! This a sign he likes you! Really likes you! It’s not even noon and the man is trying to talk with you again! Answer him!” Soyeon says and you realise that she’s gotten up, peering over your shoulder at your phone screen as well.

Quietly, you unlock your phone and read the message from him a few times before licking your lips and responding.

Jung Hoseok [11:23am]: Hi. So...about that Instagram?

Jung Hoseok [11:23am]: Also, I know you’re not meant to double text but...last night was fun.

The second text comes in before you can properly respond and your eyes widen, noting that he seems to be pretty eager just like they’d said. Or at least...being polite.

Y/N [11:24am]: Hi...same. Hope I wasn’t too...weird

You send him your Instagram handle as well, wondering whether or not you’d posted any dumb photos on there recently. Before you can get too worked up over it though, you push the thought firmly away and decide that he’ll just have to put up with it. He didn’t seem to have been bothered by your quirks last night, and if he wanted to pursue anything further then you’d rather he realise sooner than later.

Jung Hoseok [11:26am]: Nah, you were fine. Best first date I’ve ever had

Jung Hoseok [11:27am]: I also found this out this morning and thought you’d like to hear, Fact Queen

Jung Hoseok [11:29am]: Did you know...Stan Lee almost made the Power Rangers. Saw it on a documentary I’m watching

Y/N: [11:30am]: The Toys That Made Us? On Netflix? It’s great!

Jung Hoseok [11:32am]: It is! Thought I’d tell you anyway

Y/N [11:33am]: :)

He goes quiet after that and you realise that your friends have both been sat silent, holding their breath as they read the conversation between you both. And when you look at them, your eyes widen when you see the matching broad grins they wear.

There’s a second of hesitation before they both squeal and wrap their arms around you tightly, squeezing you so hard.

“Oh my god! He so likes you! He gets you! Oh my god! Girl! You’ve lucked out!!” Chungha shrieks, shaking you violently by the shoulders while Soyeon is slapping your arm lightly in her excitement. Their positive energy is infectious and you find yourself laughing in response, the happiness inside you bubbling higher at Hoseok’s words.

He’d enjoyed last night. Really enjoyed it, if he was to be believed.

And not only did he not mind your weird sense of humour or fact based response mechanism, but he reciprocated it with something he thought you might find interesting. It made you feel warm and gooey.

Another vibration causes you to look down at your phone again, noting that there’s no new message this time from him. Instead, you see that someone called ‘jungsevenfold’ has followed you on Instagram.

Clicking on it, you see that it’s Hoseok’s profile. And just like his Facebook, it’s a hodgepodge of casual photos of him and his friends and more artistic and aesthetic photography shots. Shyly, you follow him back and then note the notifications that pop up on the bottom.

“Oh...my god. This guy is gonna be whipped for you.” Soyeon snorts and you heat up in embarrassment, wanting to deny her but unsure how to.

Because he’d already viewed and liked at least 5 of your images. And he’d even left a comment on the photo you’d taken before you left for the date last night, the angle and light perfect to make your make-up and outfit look its best.

jungsevenfold: beautiful! :)

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ramble-writes · 3 years

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So here comes another valentine's gift for the glorious @franks-mixtape ! If y'all remember the 2 Franks that are brothers and werewolves that I wrote some time ago, this is going from that again because I thought about it randomly and felt like I then needed more of it sooooooo yeah! If you DON’T know, the gist is being that his Frank and my Frank are half brothers. Father being a werewolf to both which resulted in his Frank being a halfling, while mine is whole werewolf due to different mothers. 19 years apart until both came to Ormond where they met up and figured out they’re brothers. So there ya go!

Warning(s): probs just standard cussing, buuuut that’s it lol

Don’t forget to like, reblog, and follow if ya wanna see more! (◍•ᴗ•◍)❤

A Wednesday. Worst day for the 14th to fall on. Especially since it’s in the middle of the school week. Frank James Morrison sat there in the last class for the day, English. The teacher decided to focus on how Valentine’s day started from some dude who got executed in Rome or some shit. He wasn’t paying attention, finding it useless to learn about. Emerald green eyes lazily gazed around the room till they landed on his brother’s russet hair.

Frank Fenik Morrison was there a few seats to James’s left, amber eyes were trailing over the printed paper the teacher had passed out previously. As much as he was into literature, if he wanted to learn history on a subject of a man who was killed for trying to teach his religion to the Romans, he would’ve in his history class.

Fenik really was just idly taking his pencil to scribble a random design on a blank spot on the paper, the teacher’s voice seeming muffled in the background. Darkening some lines on the drawing, he felt a nudge in his mind, like someone nudging him with their arm. He lifted his eyes up and flickered to the side where gemstone eyes met and locked.

‘Dude. This shit is boring. Can’t we just.. skip out on this?”

‘I wish. But we can��t or shit’ll go down. Plus, they’ll know it’s us since we have the same exact name, minus the middle name.’

This made the raven-haired Frank sigh out loudly. He slightly scrunched his face up at hearing his other half chuckle both from a distance (thanks to his heightened hearing) and in his mind. Since figuring out the two had the same father, name, preference in tattoos, music, and other things, it made for the two getting along pretty easily. It resulted in a sort of bond to form. Since their father was a werewolf, it resulted in an animal like bond to form, that ran deeper than a standard sibling bond. Emotions, feelings, and thoughts were connected. It resulted in a mind link to have basically silent conversations.

‘Jesus fuckin Christ we have thirty minutes left of this bullshit. Feels like it’s taking foreverrrr!’

Fenik had to cover his mouth to stifle the laugh that bubbled up. Hearing him complain like a child made for lightening the boring mood. The internal complaining actually helped pass the time till the bell rang. Kids instantly got up with grabbing backpacks and shoulder bags alike and hurried for the door as the teacher called out that their homework from 2 days ago is due by Friday. Most likely, no one paid attention.

The two Morrisons waited at the bottom of the steps of Fairview, waiting on the other three of their odd pack in the snow. It didn’t take long for Julie, Susie, and Joey to come out. Julie adjusted her coat she has on as she hurried a bit down the stairs, being mindful of the snow-covered steps as she went over to the russet-haired Frank and planted her lips to his. This drew a very pleased growl from him as he kissed her back. Thankfully, those dreaded words to the holiday weren’t uttered.

“A’ight sluts! What’s the plan for today for shit to fuck up?” James asked, the name making Joey chuckle. “I’m lookin’ for chaos to burn down the grossness I feel from all this love shit.”

“I second that. There’s this jackass that’s been trying to feel Susie up in history when it comes to turning in work,” Julie huffed out. This made Joey look at the pinkett with concern on his face.

“And ya haven’t said anything?” Susie looked away at the tallest’s question which made him sigh. “Sus, ya gotta tell us when this kind of stuff happens..”

Her head only lowered before she pulled her hood up to hide her face. Joey had let out a sigh and draped an arm over her shoulders before looking at the other three. Amber, emerald, and brown eyes met and they all shared the same thought.

‘Trash the fucker’s place’

To cut things short, finding where the guy lives wasn’t hard. They did the standard: Egging the house, toilet paper thrown and draped over trees and parts of the house. But the brothers took it an extra step by managing to get up on the house with wadded up toilet paper, where they then shoved it down the chimney to block it up since smoke was coming out of it. And they were out as quickly as they came with a job well done.

They all split to head to their homes, hearing distant sirens meaning the house called the fire department which was sweet music to them. Of course, the russet-haired teen snuck over to Julie’s place after her father passed out for their... usual time together. Raven, as another nickname to call James rather than by his middle name like Fenik, was laying there in bed till about midnight he heard his name being called through that mind link.

‘Thought you were busy bangin’ up Jules.’

‘Shut up and get your ass out here.’

‘Fiiine. But I still wanna hear about your adventures in the pussy caaaave!’

James snickered when he bet the other was rolling his eyes outside, but he got out of bed to get dressed in his usual letterman with an extra layer underneath since it is midnight and it’s still winter. Out the window he went and onto the ground below where his brother is standing and waiting.

“Alright, whatcha want butt sniffer?”

“Don’t. Anyway, thought it be nice to hang out since school has been riding out asses with work to get us “prepared for college” which I could care less for.”

The raven-haired teen nodded. “Yeah. It’s a lot of bullshit. Ffffuck I hate being a senior.”

“I feel that,” Fenik agreed with a nod of his head. As usual, the two headed into the forest since it is their escape, and the only way that the wolves within the both of them can be let out. It’s a nice reliever since a lot of the times going out was never an option and it would make them feel cramped.

Usually, they don’t speak when out in the forest unless they do their usual practice. But for now, it was nothing but a run. Fenik in full wolf with James keeping up at an easy stride. Surprisingly, there was no clouds which let for the moon to shine bright in the sky and reflect off the snow, practically lighting their path.

They didn’t know how long they’ve been running, but they did come to a stopping point when the two Morrisons came across a big tree. It was there they stopped and flopped down at the base at the big roots, James leaning on Fenik and a hand running through the rust-colored fur in slow strokes.

“Ya know... I’m a bit jealous you can shift and I can’t..”

“Seriously? I dunno. I’d be pretty happy with just the heightened senses n shit.”

This made for emerald eyes to look at the wolf, which in return, amber looked back at the halfling. Concern was felt on both sides. Concern for how one felt left out of things, and concern for how the other didn’t care if shifting was a thing or not. James scooted himself a bit close to be able to wrap an arm around the back of the head of the large wolf and pressed his forehead to his, letting silence overtake the quiet between he two of them.

Something happened since one moment the raven-haired teen was small in comparison to the wolf with clothes on, to suddenly not and... the same size. It was like his body just relaxed for him to suddenly shift, but the realization got for the two to jump up onto their paws and look at each other.

James now was suddenly the same height, same build. Black fur made him look like a shadow o the white snow. Vibrant green eyes stood out like unknown lights in the darkest parts of the forest. The two were quiet, before sounds of excitement left them and they became nothing but giant mounds of fur and limbs with barks and yaps leaving them.

What felt like hours of nothing but romping around in the snow, they both flopped down panting with tongues hanging out of open mouths and tails swishing in the snow. Two sets of gemstone eyes gazed up at the night sky, the moon nothing but a white orb to the side of their vision.

“I hate valentine’s, but this? This is the greatest fuckin’ gift nature let me have haha!” James boofed out, letting his paws stretch out in front of him. It felt like all his limbs were sore from being contained, and finally was allowed to be out.

“Oh trust me. Being this way is heavenly. Feels like what freedom from the system should be. And now that you can shift, we can do this a hell of a lot more. And no one can stop the hell we’ll raise.” Fenik let out a chuff, a canine version of a chuckle. The black pelted one chuffed as well before rolling onto his side and laying close to the rusted pelt one and pressed close.

They were content like that, black mixing with rust, emerald and amber. It took only a nudge from Fenik to say that it’s best they get going. James got up and shook the snow from his fur, waiting for his brother to get up. Both standing, they trotted off to the edge of the forest where they shifted back to their human selves.

“This weekend. Can... we go running again? And... maybe teach me some wolf stuff since now I can shift?”

“Hell yeah man! I’ll be waiting ‘round seven. Sound good?”

James nodded with a slight smile before it fell. There was hesitation, but Fenik could feel it and brought his brother close for a hug. He melted into it and hugged the other back. They stood like that for some beats before breaking it off and headed to their homes with goodbyes through the link. Days and nights for now on were gonna be different, but they were gonna be hella enjoyable and that feeling of being left out vanished. Everything felt right, just as it should be.

#frank morrison #wolf frank #brother franks au #franks-mixtape #legion dbd #dbd #dead by daylight #my writings #HERE'S TO YOU YA TWINK HAPPY VALENTINE'S

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i-need-entertainment · 3 years

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Dreams Can Come True: Chapter 2 New Home

Chapter 1-Chapter 3

After Y/n’s shift at the daycare was over, she quickly made her way home and changed into more presentable clothes for her ‘interview’. She made her way out of her home wearing shiny black heels, a form fitting black pencil skirt and a loose, comfy white blouse. Y/n made her way into the café and immediately spotted her friend from this morning.

She walked over, “Hi Kurono, I hope I didn’t take too long, I wanted to look presentable for meeting your boss!” Chrono took a moment to look at Y/n, and she looked good. If not for his keen control on his emotions he was sure his face would have gone red, but he kept his composure and simply nodded. “I’m sure he’ll appreciate it. The man lives in button ups and slacks, so I’m sure you’ll make a good first impression.” Y/n then took a moment to notice what Chrono was wearing, he too, had changed into something nicer. He was now wearing a white button up and dark wash, not skinny but not super loose fitting, jeans. Dang, the man cleans up nicely. Unfortunately for our little Y/n here, she doesn’t have the same control over her emotions as the stone cold gangster, so her cheeks may have flushed a *little* pink. Chrono noticed her change in appearance and inwardly flushed at the thought of her blushing at him. Being 20 he knew he was in his ‘prime’ or whatever, and most people would have expected him to have a girlfriend by now, but dating wasn’t exactly easy in his position. Sure, he had a few girlfriends before, but they either just got in the way, only dated him to get close to Kai, or in the most unfortunate cases, weren’t exactly faithful. He just didn’t really see the point in dating if he was just going to get hurt in the end, or have to hurt someone in the end, I mean he may be a ‘heartless’ mafia but he does have one. There was also the fact he had a six year old to take care of, and in all aspects of his life, she was his priority. He had always wanted kids, and a wife. But if he could have at least one of those things, he couldn’t complain, right? He snapped out of it, and led Y/n back to the private room his boss had gotten for the night seeing as the Hassaikai had special ties with the owner. As she walked in the room, she noticed a young, fairly tall and built young man sitting down at the head of the table. Chrono led her to her seat at the opposite end, and took his seat to the right of his boss. To Overhaul’s left was another young man. Y/n polite fully bowed her head and introduced herself. “Hello sir, I’m Y/n L/n.” He nodded his head in acknowledgement and motioned for her to take a seat. It was now she paid attention to what the others were wearing. The man at the head of the table was wearing a black button down shirt with black pants and a white-gray tie. The man beside him dressed in all black, wearing a cape like top and a black bowler’s hat. Most peculiarly about the two however…is that they were wearing plague masks. While the one dressed solely in black wore one that covered his whole face, the one seated at the head of the table wore a burgundy and gold mask that covered only half of his face. Wait a minute…You knew who these people were. “Good evening Ms. L/n. I’m sure by now you’ve figured out who we are, yes?” “I have an idea..” Y/n then noticed Chrono had slipped on white medical mask. “You’re probably wondering what the Shie Hassaikai wants with a daycare worker, Hm?” You simply nodded your head. “I don’t know how much Chronostasis has told you, but we are in need of female caretaker for the little girl you met today. We’re offering you a spot as not only her caretaker, but as a respected member of the Shie Hassaikai. Join us, and I assure you, you will be taken care of.” Y/n took a moment to think about it.

~Chrono POV/ Narrator POV~

I really do hope she says yes, having her around would make taking care of Eri a lot easier, ad it’d be nice to have her around. “Okay, I’ll do it” Yes! “But…” But…? “I don’t want to kill anyone. It’s true I’m not the biggest fan of heroes, but I’m not exactly pro villain either, I just want to take care of Eri, if that’s okay.” Seems fair to me. I didn’t really want her to have to kill either, a girl as pretty and nice as herself shouldn’t have to go through that….wait what the heck am I thinking?! “Those terms are acceptable, welcome to the Shie Hassaikai, L/n. Now, if you don’t mind, we’d like to ask you some more…personal questions.” Oh boy, here we go again, I already know what he’s going to ask, 1. What’s your quirk. “Tell me, what is your quirk?” Knew it. “Telekinesis, I can control small objects and bring them towards me, or place them wherever I can see.” Overhaul just nodded. 2. Any family/friends who would question your disappearance? “Do you have any family or friends that might find your absence…suspicious?” Strike two “Just my aunt Hina, although I’ve been moved out for two years now, so it shouldn’t seem too suspicious.” Overhaul nodded again, “Very well, tonight we’ll go ahead and move you into your new home, since you’ll be a permanent caretaker for Eri, you will need to live in the base.” Y/n simply nodded, “That’s fine with me.” Overhaul stood up, and threw on his coat. “It’s been a pleasure working with you, L/n. Chrono, take her home and help her get what she needs, I’ll have Mimic send the other precepts over to move her out.” “Yes sir.” With that, chrono left the café with Y/n. When they exited, Chrono took off his mask. He really hated wearing it, but it was kind of important. Due to his villain attire, no heroes or police knew what he looked like, so unlike some of the precepts, he could pretty much just waltz around a free man. “So, Mafia, huh?” Y/n teasingly pointed out. “Yeah…sorry about not being completely honest earlier, but I didn’t want to scare you off too quickly.” Y/n simply nodded. “It’s okay, although I doubt it would have, like I said, I’m kind of indifferent towards heroes and villains, so I at least would have heard you out first.” “Thanks…most people aren’t as understanding.” Y/n just hummed and kept walking with Chrono. “So, how did you get the name ‘Chronostasis’, does it have something to do with your quirk?” “Yeah, actually it’s the name of my quirk.” Y/n looked at Chrono with wide eyes, “What does your quirk do?” “Well, you see my hair?” He pointed to his head. “Yeah” “Okay, well you see how the ends are pointed like clock needles?” “Mhm.” “Well, I can control them, but I have to be completely still, and they’re really sharp. So, if I struck someone with the hour hand, they’ll be slowed down for an hour, If I strike someone with the minute hand, they’ll be slowed for a minute.” Y/n’s eyes widened in amazement. “Its not really that flashy…or that useful.” Chrono awkwardly looked away, hand rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. Y/n quickly shook her head. “Nuh-uh, not at all I think it’s really cool!” By the enthusiasm in her voice he knew she was being sincere. He softly SOFTLY smiled and shook his head. “You really think so?” “Yes!! They look really cool, and most people don’t have defenses against being slowed, so I think it’s super powerful!” “Thanks Y/n.” No one had ever told him they genuinely really liked his quirk. Most people just left it alone, or thought it was weird. But here was this bubbly, sweet daycare worker who was practically fangirling over it. “No problem, you shouldn’t put yourself down like that, especially when there’s nothing to put yourself down for…” Y/n averted her eyes to the ground, a soft smile still present on her lips. “Well, here we are. It’s not much, so it shouldn’t take too long.” Overhaul had already called the landlord and arranged for Y/n to be let out on the lease early. (Turns out Yakuza bosses have a bit of power over people.) Chrono and Y/n entered Y/n’s small apartment/house. Chrono looked around, for someone who’s so young, he could tell y/n put a lot of work into her house. “Okay, give me like, five minutes and I’ll get what I need.” Because Y/n only had the one room in the hassaikai, she packaged up all of her valuable collections. Pictures of family and friends, irreplaceable things and gifts, etc. She packed up her clothes and brought a small bag of essentials to get her through the night. “Okay, I’m ready to go!” With that the two left for the Hassaikai base, but not before Chrono called Nemoto to bring the car, since it was going to be a longer drive and it was pretty late. After they got back to the base, Chrono led her into the traditional looking house, got to a door and stopped. He punched in some code, and the door opened to a stair case. This is where the main part of our base is, its where all the stuff goes down. Oh, it’s also where the bedrooms are.” They made their way down the stairs and started walking down the hallway. “Don’t be intimidated by all the guys here, you’re probably going to be pretty popular for the first few weeks, other than Eri you’re the first female to be down her. Also, ignore the petty flirting, most of these guys can count on one hand the number of women they’ve ‘talked’ to, most probably on one finger” “Really?” “Uh-huh, as you can imagine we all stay pretty busy, so no one really has time to go out and meet anybody new, let alone date.” Y/n nodded her head, she knew what that was like. Working at the day care and helping her aunt out once in a while kept her pretty busy. She had dated in the past, but none of her relationships lasted. In fact she hadn’t even attempted any relationships after him. Him being her ex, who she dated through high school, and even for some time after before she caught him cheating on her with her best friend. Chrono then walked her to a door and stopped, well this is it. It’s not much, but it’s better than nothing.” He pushed the door open and Y/n followed him inside, he then helped Y/n unpack the few things she brought with her. “Alright, hopefully that’s good enough till tomorrow, the rest of your stuff should be here by then.” “This’ll be just fine, thank you for your help…for everything really.” She smiled at him, and he gave a half smile back. “No problem, We appreciate you coming to help…I appreciate you coming to help.” There was a silence between them, although they didn’t know what kind of silence, it wasn’t an awkward silence, more like there was something there…but neither one knew what it was. “Well, anyways, I’ll get out of your hair. The bathroom is that door right there, and the living room and kitchen are just down the hall. If you need anything just text me, you’re probably going to get lost at least once, it’s pretty much a maze down here. Uhm, yeah. Oh and you’ll meet Eri again tomorrow. Her room and my room aren’t that far from here.” “Okay, I will. Thanks again Kurono. Goodnight.” “Goodnight Y/n.” An with that, the young second hand made his way out of her room and towards Eri’s room to put her to bed, seeing as it was about 8:30 pm and he didn’t want her to be cranky when she met Y/n again tomorrow. *Knock Knock* “Eri? Can I come in? It’s daddy.” The door quickly opened and Eri tackled Chrono in a hug. Eri then led him inside and sat on her bed. “Alright kiddo, it’s time for bed. Tomorrow your going to spend the day with someone new.” Eri’s ears seemed to perk up at the mention of someone new since not many new people come around here. As Chrono was getting Eri ready for bed, he started to explain the new circumstances to her as best he could. “Do you remember the nice lady that helped you today at the park?” Eri nodded her head. “Well, she’s going to be your new caretaker.” He realized he definitely should have worded it differently when he stared back at him with big wide scared eyes. “ W-what do you mean daddy? A-are you g-going to leave me?” It then clicked that it sounded like he was being replaced! “No! No sorry Eri! I’m not going anywhere I promise!” He held her in a bone crushing hug before leading her to the bed and tucking her in, looking for a book to read before she went to sleep. “She’s just gonna help me take care of you is all. Not replace me.” “Oh.” Eri seemed to understand. “So she’s gonna be my new Mommy then?” If chrono had been drinking water he was 1,000% sure he would’ve choked. “U-um yes and no? For now, let’s just call her Ms. Y/n, okay?” He could hear the fear in his voice of her asking any more difficult questions. “But why is she here? I thought you took care of me?” “I do pumpkin, but especially because you’re a girl, you should have a girl influence to look up to.” “Because I’m a girl? But why?” Shoot. He thought he could avoid THIS topic for at least 6 more years. What is he supposed to tell her? Yeah, in about 6 years give or take your body is going to turn on you and try to kill you once a month? Not exactly something you tell a 6 year old. “H-how about we talk about it tomorrow pumpkin” If the squeakiness of his voice didn’t give him away, his red face sure did. “Daddy? Is something wrong? You’re being weird.” Chrono just shook his head and tried to compose himself. “Yeah, daddy’s just being weird. Hey! How about we read that book now.” “Okay.” Chrono then read her the book and tucked her in to sleep. Making his way to his bedroom and collapsing on his bed, tired from the events of the day.

#chronostasis #chrono #chronostasis x reader #chrono x reader #hari kurono #y/n #bnha x reader #bnha #shie hassaikai

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curanonemu · 5 years

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ateez soulmates au | kim hongjoong

✧ Matching Marks AU ✧

💖💙 Happy Birthday to one (1) beautiful human who does Things to my heart. 💙💖

• tags: hongjoong's pov, slightly art au, sappy!joong, kid-to-adult-fic (is that a tag), cute kids in love, wingman!yunho, spoilers re: seonghwa, fluff, i promise this is not angst, happy ending :D

• word count: 2,950

I hope you guys like thisss! 💖

Hongjoong is four years old when he gets a scratch on his left leg. It's a little above the knee, and he has no recollection of getting hurt anywhere. It just stings a bit, all of a sudden, having drawn his attention, and he complains about it to his mother.

She writes it off as Hongjoong being careless, while he frowns and asserts, in all of his tiny glory: "I'm very careful, Ma!" She hums, the amusement clear in her eyes, her tone of voice all too obvious, "Sure, maybe whatever hurt you was careless." After much grumbling, Hongjoong has to accept her deduction.

He's ten years old, sitting in class and gripping his pen as he listens intently to his teacher, and all of a sudden the pen slips out of his grasp, which is way too wet. He looks down, and what else should he see but a deep gash on his fingers, blood dripping. It doesn't even hurt, but he supposes that that has to do with the intensity of the wound, and not lack thereof. It takes all of his effort to not freak out, externally at least. The teacher sends him to the nurse's office, and the nurse believes that he's a fool despite Hongjoong's insistence that no, he did not slice his hand anywhere against anything sharp 'accidentally.'

Fingers wrapped up and mind buzzing, he returns home glum that day. Why does he keep getting hurt? It's usually some harmless bruises that he doesn't need to worry about, but when he's literally bleeding without a cause, it upsets him.

He's always been careful so that he doesn't get hurt. The scar from six years ago still remains, a thin white line that serves as a reminder of his alleged carelessness.

His mother ends up answering his questions that day. Hongjoong's father seems strictly against the idea, claiming he's too young to know, but it makes him all the more inclined to want to know. So his mother ends up telling him in secret, about how he gets hurt, how someone else is responsible for it. She tells him about soulmates, and he takes it all in, wide-eyed.

She tells him everyone has a different kind of connection, and when he asks what kind she and his dad have, she just smiles secretively.

Hongjoong happens to share a physical link with his soulmate, and whatever marks they get, appear on him too. And they hurt.

He spends the next three years resenting his soulmate, and each time he sports a new bruise, he wonders why he's meant to be with someone so clumsy.

He's thirteen when he twists his ankle while walking, and crashes straight into a rock, the sole of his shoe coming right off, and his heel bleeding. With the pain and the mess comes a rush of something he can't recognise. It feels the slightest bit like guilt, but why in the world? Is he guilty that he hurt the poor rock? He doesn't dwell on it, because his foot hurts too much.

He understands soon enough when his mother makes an off-hand comment about his soulmate's condition. It feels like he's been doused with cold water. How could he forget that someone out there in the world is also suffering with him? Never mind the times he suffered because of them.

Actually, they've always suffered together. He's been hurt because of his soulmate, but right now they're also hurt because of him. He's hurt the person he's meant to give his heart to, in this world. And it makes him feel terrible. No one would want to hurt people for no reason, especially someone precious, so why has Hongjoong always assumed his soulmate is a no-good hooligan?

He spends the next few days doing his best to recover, making sure not to exert himself or jostle his foot any more than necessary.

Yunho makes jokes about Hongjoong's solemate, but even that's not enough to get him to kick his friend.

The only thing that makes the whole ordeal relatively better (read: less embarrassing) is the cast around the new kid's foot. Hongjoong's not the only one with a hurt foot, and even though the other person is not his classmate, it makes everything better.

He hears through classmates that his nameless saviour was on the stairs when they got hurt, and it makes him regret his baseless resentment for his soulmate even more. How could he have blamed them all those years? Getting hurt is inevitable.

Hongjoong ends up leaving a note for the kid in the next class, after much difficulty and a great deal of asking around (read: whining at Yunho till his friend rolled his eyes and found out through his countless contacts). 'I hope it heals soon,' the note says, and he deliberately does not leave a name. It's the least he can do.

A few days later, when he's getting his bandages removed, the doctor peels away the material only for a smiley face to greet everyone. The doctor is surprised and slightly disapproving, but then Hongjoong's mother clears up the misunderstanding; he's not responsible for drawing that. Hongjoong tries not to let his face burn, but it's a lost cause, truthfully.

He comes home and spends a while staring at the doodle on his ankle.

Then, picking up a pen and hoping he's not being absolutely stupid, he uncaps it and sets it to the face, widening the smile slightly. He's being stupid, isn't he? He groans and is about to rub it off completely when he sees something else.

Flowers on his shin. Yeah, he's definitely not responsible for those and they sure weren't there an hour back. He adds a few leaves, watches as loopy tendrils appear on his skin before his eyes, and then he finishes the piece off with a few stray four-point sparkles.

It seems like injuries aren't the only thing he can share with his soulmate.

If he wears the longest pair of socks he has, the next day, then no one needs to know.

They fall into a routine after that. Hongjoong does his best not to get hurt, other than the rare loss of coordination that makes him bang his head down on his table when he drifts off while staying up late, studying. His soulmate cools off on their love for getting hurt too.

Sometimes Hongjoong will spy random bruises cropping up on his skin, but there's none of his old irritation; there's just exasperation and a hint of amusement, concern as well. He'll draw all sorts of things around those bruises- spirals, geometric shapes, even flowers which seem to be his soulmate's go-to. And the person on the other end will add to his doodles.

He ends up way too attached to that habit. And he ends up way too good at art.

In high school, he starts painting his little finger's nail, and he's slightly surprised when his soulmate doesn't do anything to that. He wonders if the polish doesn't show up on their nail. But he doesn't dwell long on that. There's plenty of things he hopes they aren't experiencing at the same time as him. Like staying up till two in the night, crying over his curriculum.

He graduates, and things go smoothly as he starts college, with his part-time job on the side.

He meets new people; Yunho introduces him to his other friend, and Seonghwa is too popular but Hongjoong might just secretly consider him his best friend, despite the short time they've known each other. He's upright, responsible, slightly cocky but also a major dork, judging by the way he's obsessed with the word on his body. He all but freaks out when Hongjoong jokes about having the right words for him, but then the latter assures him that they're not soulmates by any chance, and Seonghwa huffs and ignores him for approximately ten minutes before Yunho calls him an idiot and they're all dissolving into laughter.

Some people also make passes at Hongjoong, strangers he meets from Yunho's large circle of friends, and he's forever surprised that they want to date him when he doesn't even spend enough time socialising. Studying music and art doesn't really give him a lot of time to hang out with people.

He's also more than a little faithful to his soulmate, but he'll never admit that to anyone. It's bad enough that Yunho told Seonghwa about Hongjoong's solemate, he'll never tell anyone that he also has a raging crush on his other half.

Towards the end of the semester, he's busy preparing for exams, and his brain seems fried from days of continuous studying when he decides to take a break, stretching and trying to work out the tension in his back. That's when he sees the digits on his wrist.

His lips part, mouth opening till he stares at his wrist in surprise, almost akin to wonder. And then his brain catches up. Someone's got close enough to his soulmate to leave their phone number on their wrist, and they let them. And that number is also adorning Hongjoong's wrist, just like any other mark that he's shared with his soulmate.

Uh oh.

He rubs at his wrist, satisfied when the ink smudges, and he spends all of his fifteen-minutes-long break cleaning his skin, till it's spotless again. If it's a little red from all the rubbing, he hopes his soulmate's skin isn't suffering.

The next day, he has to go through the same ordeal.

Another day passes, and the same thing happens.

And another.

Hongjoong's at his wit's end. It's all getting increasingly frivolous, first bows and then stars and then hearts decorating the same number, and it makes him nauseous.

He also needs to study so he won't fail, and it's not helping that his soulmate has a new sweetheart that they seem all too happy about.

He's lacking sleep, he doesn't remember when he last ate, and instead of music notes he only remembers those ten stupid digits that keep haunting him.

In a second, he makes a decision that he would most definitely not make, were he in his right mind.

Hongjoong rubs off the digits again, too calm. Then he picks up the fanciest pen he owns, the one he bought specifically with his soulmate in mind but never used, and he writes a different sequence of numbers on his wrist.

He shouldn't get in the way of his soulmate's happiness. He will definitely regret it the next day, he's sure of it.

But he can't bring himself to regret putting his own phone number on his skin.

His phone rings, and he jolts, the gravity of the situation creeping up on him a little. He's such a bad person.

It's late at night, so it can't be anyone other than Yunho or Seonghwa, the latter possibly hoping to catch him awake and scold him for it. Hongjoong answers without looking, happy to have any sort of interaction.

"Hmm?" He hums, dragging out the sound into a sigh, and raises an eyebrow as he hears laughter on the other end.

"Kim Hongjoong?"

He shifts a bit, back straightening, "Yeah, that's me..." Seonghwa appears in his mind, tutting at him for not looking at the caller's number.

"Oh, good!" The person on the other end brightens up significantly, before they laugh again and say, "I've been waiting for days, I thought you'd never get around to it. Honestly, the way you've been removing all traces of my number made me think you'd never talk."

Hongjoong's eyes widen, and he's suddenly too awake and alert. "W-who are you?" He asks, hoping they don't catch his stuttering through the line.

"Ah, I, uh..." the person suddenly trails off. Hongjoong is getting increasingly confused and more than a little suspicious, and he wants answers now.

"I..." they start again and Hongjoong's ear perks up. "Just hear me out, maybe?" He hums in response, and hears them inhale before they launch off into a long-winded explanation. "I put my number there because I wanted you to call. But you never did. You just kept wiping it off and I kept trying and I thought you didn't care."

"But you've also always drawn really pretty things for me, and you've been so kind throughout my life, and the way you write your alphabets is so cute that I- sorry, you don't need to know."

"I want to." He cuts them off, head still trying to wrap itself around the absurdity and the near impossibility of the situation, despite hearing and comprehending every word.

"Y-you have good artistic skills. I like your art." They say, and Hongjoong can imagine that they're red, because he feels the telltale tingle in his face too.

"You're my soulmate." He says it more as a statement than a question, and gets affirmation from the person on the other side.

"How do you know my name?"

"You're... not easy to miss. And I realised some time back that you're the same person who left me that note, because of your handwriting."

What note? Hongjoong asks as much.

"The one you wrote when you hurt your foot." They say, and the anxiousness is dripping from their words. Hongjoong almost feels bad, but one thing still doesn't make sense.

"That doesn't really answer my question, you know. How did you call while knowing I'm Hongjoong? You'd only know if you've seen my number before. How can I believe that you're my soulmate?"

He hears another inhale, and he waits for them to steel their nerves before they blurt out something that makes his mental faculties halt for a moment.

"Yunhogaveittome."

"Yunho?" He asks, incredulous as anything. What does Yunho have to do with this?

"Do I really have to tell you everything?" The question ends as a whine, and despite Hongjoong's brain screaming that that's cute, he powers on to his goal. "Everything. Tell me."

"Fine. He gave it to me in school because he found out I had a stupidly big crush on you. I'd liked you ever since someone told me that you left me that note which you thought you were super sneaky about. The one where you told me you hoped my foot healed soon."

Oh.

"But I never did anything despite having your number. And I also felt bad because my soulmate was so cool and kind and great. I didn't want to pursue someone else when my soulmate was drawing me stars and swirls and putting up with my clumsy self."

Oh.

"Then I realised that you had similar handwriting to that of my soulmate and I really hoped that you were the same people, but I chalked it up to wishful thinking. It was just a coincidence that you were hurt at the same time, right?"

The pieces are slowly falling into place, and Hongjoong blinks as his head spins a bit.

"I decided to delete your number and forget you, because it was getting too dangerous. But then- then!" The person's voice gets animated, "I decided to share my own number with my soulmate, because I wanted to see what they'd do."

"And they rubbed it off." Hongjoong supplies, ever-so-helpful and receives enthusiastic agreement.

"Exactly! They kept rubbing it off even though I hoped and hoped that they'd call."

"They thought it belonged to someone who was wooing you." He mumbles, his voice faint to his own ears.

"O-oh. I- no." Laughter; laughter that makes Hongjoong's ears burn, makes him run a hand through his hair anxiously. "Definitely not. I already told you I decided not to pursue anyone. Kim Hongjoong was already a guilty pleasure." The last two words are whispered into the line, and he squeezes his eyes shut.

"What did you think when you got theirs?" He asks, voice trembling slightly. It's because he's cold and tired, definitely, not because he's warm and embarrassed and slightly giddy.

"I was surprised. I couldn't tell what was happening. On one hand, I thought it was my soulmate's. On the other, I recognised it and thought the world was playing a trick on me. For a second I even thought Yunho could be it, and he'd made a fool out of me but then I called and you answered and who wouldn't recognise your voice?"

"What about my voice?" He asks, and he's not disappointed when he hears the shy but excited response of how he sounds really distinct and pleasing to the ear and other admissions that make Hongjoong's lips twitch up in a grin.

He picks up the same pen, writing out under his number one last thing that he needs answered. Make it two things.

'Why are you so clumsy? Why do I love you despite that?'

"Excuse me?! Sorry that I bruise easily! And I'm sorry that I'm still so adorable and adorable. Let me remind you, my foot hurt pretty badly when you hurt yours! It hurt enough that I fell down the stairs. You're lucky I was at the second to last step, or you'd be so much worse! Ungrateful." Hongjoong's shoulders shake as he stifles his laughter, hearing you huff indignantly.

He sighs, shutting his eyes and allowing a smile to spread over his face as he listens to your voice.

Ah.

It's the person he's been going back and forth with for so long, the person whose life has affected his so much. He's talking to the person for whom he draws leaves and flowers and writes sappy lyrics.

It's the person he's been waiting for, all these years.

It's his soulmate.

It's you.

(Thank you so much for reading.♡ I hope you all enjoyed it. You can find the rest of this series under my '#ateez soulmates' tag! ♡♡)

#ateez #ateez imagines #kim hongjoong #kim hongjoong x reader #ateez x reader #kim hongjoong imagines #ateez soulmates #ateez scenarios #cura writes

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redsamuraiii · 4 years

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Ultraman Fan Fic

An excerpt from a chapter of my fan fic draft novel which I’ve been writing since June during my spare time, bringing the lovable Ultraman characters from 1966 to 2020.

Chapter 3 Present Day Kyoto, Japan

It is a cold December night in Kyoto, the ancient capital of Japan. The temple gardens are gently illuminated, the low light spinning a mysterious yarn across the silhouetted pines and chimerical bamboo groves. Just a few minutes away, the entertainment district of Gion is bustling with the energy of excitable tourists, drunken businessmen and attentive geisha. But here, up a narrow, sloping road on the eastern edge of the city, Shin Hayata have found stillness. He looks at the fallen leaves around him, thinking that a week from now, the branches of those tress will be bare and a month later, perhaps cloaked in white snow.

As he got lost in his thoughts to the night of the crash which he somehow survived, someone called out to him in a distant. A feminine voice calling out his name.

“Hayata…! Hayata!”

It’s his partner, Akiko Fuji, of the Science Patrol Division (SPD). Dressed in her orange suit uniform that is hugging her slim figure, wearing a white helmet covering her shoulder length wavy hair, with her youthful face visible through the transparent visor and her sparkling eyes reflecting her spirited nature, gazing his.

“HAYATA! I’ve been calling your name a dozen times!”

Hayata blushed, feeling embarrassed that he was caught off guard staring into nothingness while everyone around him are busy enjoying the festivities, talking, eating, drinking and laughing.

“You MUST try this shrimp tempura! It’s the best I’ve ever eaten since Nagasaki! It’s so warm and crispy! Everything about it is just about right! Oh! And don’t make me start on how deliciously spicy the sauce is!”

Hayata smiled, looking at her. That’s Fuji, for you. Always lively and full of spirits when it comes to food. He gazed at the small basket of tempura she was holding in one hand and the sauce cup in the other. He lifted his visor to smell the sweet aroma before grasping his hands on one of the tempura and gently sip it in the sauce before savoring it. And true enough, his facial expression betrays him.

“SEE! I TOLD YOU!”

She exclaimed excitedly like a five year old enjoying her first candy bar as Hayata watched and chuckled.

“You do have a knack for good food, Fuji! How in the world do you know there are such delights around here?”

She stopped eating halfway as if thinking about it.

“It’s my nose, you see! They can smell it all the way from Tokyo!”

Hayata had to laugh at that as he takes another bite.

“It’s a pity, the others are not here!”

She said as she continue munching the tempura and licking her fingers.

“If they were, I’d imagined Ide and Arashi will be squabbling over it instead of eating it.”

This time it was Fuji who laughed out loud, imagining her team members squabbling over shrimp tempura.

“Captain Muramatsu will probably steal it from them quietly while they’re squabbling over it.”

She said, laughing as she wipes away a sauce stuck on her right lips.

Suddenly, they stopped laughing as their voices were drowned by the noises surrounding them.

Fuji changed her tone of her voice as she glanced at Hayata with more seriousness now.

“Are you, okay?”

Hayata raised his eyebrows wondering where did that come from and smiled reassuringly at her.

“Never been better!”

“Oh, come on, Hayata! I saw your looks earlier, it’s like you’re caught somewhere in time!”

Hayata nodded not denying it as he continue looking around him at the people enjoying the festival.

“Just thinking what happened here five years ago and how fast we got over it.”

Fuji followed his gaze to the people around them.

“I guess it’s in our nature to be able to adapt.”

They leaned their backs against their parked patrol car as they continued eating tempura.

“You still think about that night?”

She inquired.

“Sometimes. Wondering why it happened. You?”

“I’m past wondering why it happened. I’m just wondering what will happen next.”

Hayata nodded as he considers her statement. Ever since Baltan appeared, several other aliens started appearing as well. It is not clear if Baltan is the one to lead them here or Baltan’s discovery of Earth brought the attention of these other extra-terresterial creatures here. One thing for certain, they will never be short of visitors and even though many seems to be adjusting well to this new life of normalcy, Hayata, still feels uncomfortable living in this new era, knowing fully well there are extra-terresterial beings living among them and not knowing whether they are harmless or dangerous, further adds up to his anxieties.

Baltan was last spotted at Lake Biwa, just north of Kyoto in Shiga Prefecture and recently there are rumors of its sightings in the lake. So the Captain has dispatched Hayata and Fuji to investigate and report any discoveries to determine if the rest of the team are needed to assist as they are constantly on alert for any other alien incursion elsewhere across the country. It is for this reason that the SPD has their own VTOL and STOL jets for fast travels but the weather forecast of an impending winter blizzard prompts Hayata and Fuji to travel on their six-seater all-weather-all-terrain patrol jeep instead.

Part of Hayata misses flying but part of him is relieved that he has an excuse not to fly as deep down he is still traumatized by that crash where he was certain that he would died. The darkness of the night illuminated by the explosion of his right wing and his inability to eject from his jet due to some technical issue as it plummeted down to the dark ocean beneath the colossal creature hovering over him like a demonic creature from a child’s nightmare. Again, his thoughts was disrupted by the jeep’s radio buzzing, indicating an incoming transmission from headquarters. Few seconds later, the gentle sound of Captain Muramatsu can be heard.

“Hayata. Fuji. Are you there?”

“I’ll get it.”

Fuji said as she shoved the tempura and sauce to Hayata who is struggling with his hands full.

“Yes, Captain. Fuji here.”

“Ah, Fuji. I’m afraid we have a new case developing.”

Fuji exchanged knowing looks with Hayata at this as he placed the food on the hood of the car and brushes off his hands to go closer to Fuji.

“Captain, Hayata here. What’s happening?”

“Hayata. It seems that there are reports of a Yuki Onna, just north of your current location.”

Fuji seems perplexed, not by the mere fact of a Yokai from a Japanese folklore actually coming to life but the question as to what does it got to do with the SPD? It seems of late that they’ve been investigating more paranormal cases than those of extra-terrestrials beings. Even the number of alien attacks have been decreasing, which makes the people more comfortable and complacent. People no longer regard the SPD with much seriousness like they used to during the early years of alien incursions but treat them as some “ghost hunting” team that always get called upon every time something unexplained comes up that the local enforcement are not willing to spend their time and manpower on, much less, the military. Not that she’s complaining but still. Judging by the looks of Hayata, she could tell he’s pretty much thinking along the same line as her as he listen intently to the Captain’s orders.

“It’s at Kunizakai Kogen Snow Park. It’s a small ski hill located in Takashima City in the northern area of Shiga Prefecture, just north-west of Kyoto, across Lake Biwa.”

Hayata took out his tablet to study the map and get a bearing of their current location as Fuji looks on curiously at his side. He looks at his digital watch making a mental calculation of their journey.

“80km. About an hour drive from here or so. Right.”

“Hm. Since you’re both are near, I’m sending you two. It could be another false alarm but it could also have a connection with Baltan that disappeared at Lake Biwa five years ago. Could be coincidental or could be linked, which is why I want you to investigate it immediately. Report back if you discover any anomalies. Ide and Arashi are on stand-by if you need assistance.”

“Roger that, Captain.”

“Hm. Take care. Muramatsu out.”

“Well, there it is.”

“Hayata, look! It’s snowing!”

“Already? I didn’t expect a snow till three weeks from now at least.”

“Oh, it’s so beautiful!”

Fuji’s pure heart never fails to amaze and amuse him.

“We just learned about a Yuki Onna, and you’re more fascinated by snow?”

“Don’t make me throw a snowball at you, Hayata!”

Hayata chuckled as he gets into the driver’s seat as Fuji takes the remaining tempura left behind on the car hood with her. She stood at the car door left ajar for a minute as she marvels at the snowflakes falling down gracefully from the white sky. She takes one last breath of fresh air as she steps into the car to sit beside Hayata, who ignites the car’s engine and hits the pedal to move off through the crowded streets of Gion.

#ultra series #ultraman 1966 #ultraman #ultraman fan fic #my fan fic #tsuburaya productions #shin hayata #akiko fuji #science patrol #alien baltan #yuki onna #yokai #japan #kyoto #gion #lake biwa #shiga prefecture #toshio muramatsu

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subasekabang · 4 years

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Past Nova - Chapter 02

Title: Past Nova - Chapter 02

Rating: T

Word Count: 12,665 [Ch 02: 3699]

Pairings/Characters: Neku Sakuraba. Beat. Shiki Misaki. Rhyme. Sota Honjo. Nao. Joshua Kiryu. Sota/Nao.

Warnings: Past Character Death mentions.

Summary: Neku and his new friends find that they’ve been brought back to life, time wound back as if the three weeks had never happened. It’s something that they don’t have time to adjust to though, as Neku realises that Sota and Nao are still alive, with no guarantee that the two won’t end up back in the UG. Even without a timer on his hand, time is ticking down - but Neku isn’t going to let Sota and Nao disappear without a fight. Not again.

Partner: @licobleps & HB Kit

Author’s Note: So, we’ve got our misson set and things are ready to kick off! Hope you enjoy this chapter too!

“Sota, I was wondering, like, how would you catch a star?”

Stars were pretty high up. Nao knew Sota wouldn’t actually be able to catch a real star. She totally wanted to hear what he would do, though. Like, he had to at least try.

He adjusted the white band around his elbow, something Nao knew he did when he was really trying to think hard.

“Maybe I’d shoot something at it. Fireworks or somethin’. Knock ‘em right outta the sky.” His mouth stretched into a boyish grin.

He looked younger when he did that.

“And then, what?”

“Hm, I dunno. You got any ideas?”

Nao thought about it for a moment.

“You could totes set up a net under it. To catch it when it falls!”

She knew it - they came up with the best things when they did so together.

Chapter 02 - Nuclear Crossing

The sensation of waking up, lying on his back and staring at the ceiling was something that Neku should be familiar with. Instead, he found his hands clawing below, searching for concrete and meeting with softness instead. Those were three long, long weeks in the game and he suspected that it would take longer than another three for him to stop expecting to wake up in the middle of the scramble crossing.

It was odd, yesterday when they had parted ways. Neku had met up with his friends for the first time but it was also the first time that he had said goodbye to them. At least, goodbye with a certainty of seeing them again soon.

So soon, that it seemed like no time at all before he had breakfast and his parents left for work. Then here they were, at his doorstep. He was glad that it was a Monday; he didn’t know if he could muster up an explanation on how he suddenly had friends that could come over during the summer break. Up until now, he had always gone out, left the house as fast as he could.

He felt a knot tie up in his stomach, as he watched Shiki, Beat and Rhyme take off their shoes. Is my place clean enough? Did I buy enough snacks? Do they even want to be here?

Normally with a mission, he wouldn’t have to think about these things. This time, though, there was no physical timer on their hands. The day wasn’t going to go by without them noticing.

There was no Pact that meant that they had to stick around him.

That was the reason Neku kept thinking of what he would have thought to be really trivial things in the past. He couldn’t help it.

Can I keep the friends that I’ve made?

Even with the reassurance that they would help him with this (of course they would, they were good people, better than Neku had been), outside of a life and death situation, would they still want to be around him?

What the hell is with me?

Neku didn’t understand. He wasn’t worried about this yesterday. He didn’t think he could be worried about this.

“Do we get to see your room?” Shiki grabbed his attention back with that question.

No, not yet, he thought. “Sure,” is what he said instead.

The apartment he and his parents lived in was comfortable enough. Nothing too big, nothing too small. His room was similar in that sense. If Neku were to describe it in one word, he’d say it was ‘practical’. He supposed that something that might stand out was his -

“Check out all this CAT merch, yo!” Yeah, that.

Embarrassingly enough, he had convinced his parents to get him a bookstand that, while it did host a humble few textbooks, was mostly taken up by works by CAT. As CAT ventured into many of the creative arts, there was an assortment there from small posters, to keychains, to handcrafted statues. Posters designed by CAT were hung around his bedroom, too.

“Didn’t know you were this into CAT, Neku.” Shiki sounded surprised.

Neku had to remind herself that she had only been around him when he was missing his memories. “Yeah, I wasn’t kidding. I really admire CAT’s - Mr. Hanekoma’s work.”

She took one more look at the displayed items, then a quick look over at the rest of his room. “I like your room,” she said, decidedly. “It’s very ‘you’.”

“Yeah, your crib’s cool, Phones.”

“Home is where the heart is, after all.”

“…Thanks.”

He could feel his shoulders relax and his mouth curve upwards. It wasn’t really that he wanted their approval about his room specifically but…perhaps he was actually more concerned about being liked by them than he realised. Something that he just hadn’t clocked in, since he hadn’t cared about what others thought of him before.

“I’ll be right back.” He left, for five minutes, before returning with a plastic bag full of chips, chocolates and other sweets that he had bought from the convenience store yesterday. He plopped them on the floor. “I thought we could eat while coming up with a game-plan.” They sometimes mulled over the next steps of a mission over a food break, so there was no reason for this to be any different.

Beat didn’t need to be told twice, as the boy dove for the snack bag and snagged the norishio flavoured chips, chucking konsome ones at Rhyme. Neku rolled his eyes, before taking out some rice crackers and passing them along to Shiki. They ended up sitting in a circle with the snacks in the middle.

This was what Neku thought it would be like if he were to have a study session with friends; although they were all there for more serious matters.

“So, from Joshua’s message, we have until Sunday before…the deadline.” Before they die. “If we want to help save them, I think we need to try and find out how they died the first time around.”

This was something that Neku had been thinking about.

Since he had gotten home last evening, after they all agreed that they needed to come up with an actual plan, it had been all that was on his mind.

“We know exactly when they died. Aside from the ‘how’ we’re also pretty much clueless on the ‘where’. What we do know is that it’s within Shibuya. Luckily for us, we’re all pretty much experts on running around everywhere in this town.”

“You’ve got that right,” Shiki said, only just barely audible. “So, we know they were hanging around at the Scramble on Saturday? Do we just wanna try and find them then?”

Neku shook his head. “I think that would be leaving it a bit late. And I don’t think we could follow them all day until Sunday. Even if that was going to be our plan, that’s if we can find them on Saturday.”

“Ain’t it the same thing if we found them sooner? Wouldn’t we still be tryna’ follow them ‘till Sunday?”

“I was…maybe planning to well…” He lowered his voice. “Maybe try and make friends with them.”

There was a slight pause, as all three of them stared at him.

He scratched the back of his head. “You know. If we made friends with them, maybe we could just…ask them where they planned to be on Sunday.” Still quiet. “We could just exchange numbers and maybe hang with them until the time passes.”

Shiki was the first one to break the silence - with a laugh. It wasn’t a cruel laugh, however. “You really have changed, haven’t you, Neku?” If anything, the tone she had laughed in and had spoken in had a soft quality to it. He might even call it affectionate.

“I guess.” He knew that. She didn’t have to say it out loud, though.

Beat and Rhyme jumped in to agree with her enthusiastically, all three breaking into big smiles.

Well.

Maybe having it said wasn’t too bad.

“Anyway,” he cleared his throat, “they were the ones who approached me and Joshua, so I think that it’d probably be easy to make friends with them.”

The way Sota and Nao selflessly offered the two their help, even if it might cost them the win - it was something that Neku appreciated all the more after coming back to life.

“That still leaves us the problem of finding them,” Rhyme pointed out.

“Right, so I wanted to ask you guys. You did that…people-watching thing a lot, didn’t you? Back when we could scan.”

“You bet,” Beat laughed, “man, remembering some of the things people were thinking cracks me up.”

“Speak for yourself, Beat.” Shiki sighed. “I swear, I kept scanning people who were either complaining all the time or…well thinking things that probably should have been left unscanned.”

Neku was not going to ask Shiki to elaborate on that one. “Did you guys remember picking up on anything that first week? Anything that might be a clue? I think it’d be helpful if we scanned something related to them on the seventh day but obviously, we were all a little preoccupied.” As he said that, he gave a little apologetic nod to Rhyme, realising that she wasn’t really part of that, of course.

There was another lull, where each of them tried to remember something, anything that might be a clue. He wished he had paid more attention to people that first week. There was no guarantee that they would find anything concrete, but it sure as hell would useful.

“You know, actually.” Shiki scrunched up her face. “I think that I scanned some guy…I think he was a detective or something. He was looking for a blond ganguro girl. That would match the description of Nao.”

“Dunno ‘bout that, Shiki. There are a lotta blond ganguro girls in Shibuya.”

“That’s true,” said Shiki. “‘Sides, this guy was looking for a suspected criminal. Doubt it’s them since they were helping Neku out.”

“I can’t say I knew them well enough to say they’re not criminals but that’s definitely not the feeling I got from them.” No, he didn’t know them closely but what he did was enough. “I mean, we can’t be sure. Either way, it doesn’t really give us a clue on how to find them.”

Seemed like they would have to go with Plan B.

“In that case, the other thing that I wanted to ask you guys was - do you think you guys can ask around if anyone you know, knows anything about Sota and Nao? I’d do it myself, too, but I don’t really have…anyone to ask.”

At that, both Shiki and Beat stiffened up. Hm? That’s strange.

“Shiki, do we think you could ask Eri?”

“I - uh, I guess that would be okay.” Her eyes were suddenly indiscernible behind her glasses, as she shifted them.

Neku saw Shiki’s other hand curl up tightly.

“Hey.”

Shiki looked up at him.

“Don’t sweat it, we don’t have to.”

Her expression seemed to harden but Neku didn’t want to push. She told him to take his time yesterday if he needed it. He wanted her to feel the same.

“Sorry.”

He didn’t know what was bothering Shiki - he thought that she had resolved her troubles with Eri but it was beginning to seem like that wasn’t the case. He hadn’t asked. I should have asked. He could sense that now wasn’t the appropriate point to do so, though. She’d tell him when she was ready to.

Turning to Beat, he could see that his other friend was equally hesitant to say anything. Neku wondered if Beat had a reason too, why he didn’t want to ask anyone. Perhaps…he also didn’t have many friends? Neku just assumed that he did have some. When they first met, Beat seemed to want to get along fine. Until Neku showed off some of his old attitude, and Beat stormed off but that was Neku’s fault, he could admit to that. He didn’t want to push Beat either, but now they were kind of stuck.

“Neku, I think I have some friends I can ask,” Rhyme said.

Oh right, Rhyme.

“Thanks but…aren’t you a bit…young? I think Nao and Sota are a bit older than us so I don’t know if you’d know anyone who would hang around them.” He also doubted that with Beat as a brother, she would be hanging around with older kids a lot, if Beat wasn’t around others either.

“Yup but I’ve got a friend - he’s a classmate from school. He’s not afraid to talk to older people, though he could stand to, I think. He’s really into Tin Pin so he just challenges everyone he meets into the game,” she explained. “Even adults…including the nice grannies who live around our area.”

“Do the grannies play Tin Pin?” Shiki asked.

Neku shot her a look. Not the time.

She shot one right back at him that said ‘I know you were thinking the same thing’.

“Some of them do.”

Huh, you learn something new every day. “Hold up…Tin Pin.” Don’t tell me - “This guy’s name doesn’t happen to be Shooter, does it?”

xxxxx

“DO YOU GUYS PLAY TIN PIN?!” The boy’s voice sounded like someone had gotten hold of a tv remote, aimed it at him and turned the volume all the way up to maximum.

Neku debated whether to say yes or no.

“Didn’t you say you got pretty good at it, Neku?” Shiki had to open her big mouth

Right, maybe he shouldn’t have told her all about it on the way to meet Shooter. It was a bit of walk from his place to Tipsy Tose Hall and they were all asking about how he knew Shooter. He may have…embellished his skill in Tin Pin ever so slightly. Look, he did beat Shooter in their practice round, okay?

“Oh yeah?” There was a glint in his eyes that Neku wasn’t quite liking. Shooter moved to adjust the red bandanna around his head. Tugged at his jacket. Tightened the straps on his fingerless gloves. “Then I challenge you to a slam-off!”

Ah shit, Neku thought, here we go again.

…

Only a few minutes later, Neku had been completely humiliated in front of his friends.

“Oh, it’s okay, Neku.” Shiki patted his shoulder, reassuringly.

“Right on! You weren’t bad, but you need to put a little more POW into your attacks, if you know what I mean?”

“Uh yeah, ‘more pow’. Gotcha.” Was he disappointed? No! Of course, not.

…Fine, maybe a little bit.

“Hah, you suck!”

Neku glared at Beat. “I’m just a little out of practice!”

“Really? We can count it as a warm-up if you’d like, bro? Wanna go again?”

“No, I’m good,” Neku said, immediately.

Before Shooter could protest, Rhyme interrupted him. “Good job, Shooter! Nice play.” Rhyme and Shooter shared a very light fist-bump.

“Thanks, Rhyme. Gotta get some practise so I don’t lose again to you. Can’t keep letting my rivals get ahead of me all the time. Just you wait, the next one is gonna come in with a WHAM.”

There was so much that Neku wanted to ask after witnessing that exchange but they needed to keep focused on the task at hand.

“Shooter, all sorts of people come through the Stride, don’t they?”

“Yeah! I mean, everyone plays Tin Pin!” Shooter said this like it was obvious. “If there are people out there who don’t play Tin Pin they should play Tin Pin. I’ve been trying to get my gramps to play with me but he keeps saying he’s busy with his store!”

Looks like what Rhyme said about him challenging grannies must be true, then. Wonder if Tin Pin has specific categories for senior citizens…

Looking around the Stride right now, there were quite a few setups for several Tin Pin matches to go on at the same time. While the majority of players did seem to be around Rhyme and Shooter’s age-group, he did spot a lot of older kids and adults here too. Looked like anyone could get into Tin Pin.

“You know anyone named Sota Honjo? Or Nao Akahoshi? They’re usually together.”

Shooter thought for a moment and the longer he took, the more Neku started to believe they hit another dead end.

“Oh wait, is he the guy who wears shades on his head?”

Neku’s heart started to race. “Yeah, him!”

“Yeah I know him! He’s a bit of a rookie, started coming around here not long ago. He’s only a little worse than you though, bro.” Neku would not take offence to that. Nope. “Haha, though he totally wanted to take on the tournament next week. I dunno if it’s too early for him but you can’t gain experience without slamming! Oh hey, you wanna join the tourney?”

“No thanks, I’ve already done - uh, I mean - I’ve already got plans.”

That was close.

He avoided his friend’s eyes, knowing they were probably all going to hound him for it later.

“Do you know when he’s going to be here next?” Neku pushed through, determined to get the information he needed.

“Bro, I wish! I tried to challenge him when I saw him near Miyashita Park. He told me to go home, though. Saw him heading towards the Shibuya river side of the park. Think he hangs there a lot.”

It wasn’t anything concrete but it was a lead nevertheless.

“Guess that’s where we’re going then. Thanks Shooter. C’mon guys.”

Thinking it best to leave before Shooter could demand another slam-off, Neku tilted his head towards the exit and began walking towards it. Rhyme and Shiki started heading out, but Beat did not move.

That’s weird. He was usually first out the door.

His back was towards Neku and he couldn’t see Beat’s expression but he suspected that it was similar to the one he had on back at Neku’s place.

“Beat? You coming?”

“Yeah…les’ go.”

xxxxx

This really was strange.

Beat wasn’t saying a word as they made their way to the park. He wouldn’t stop talking when they were going to the Stride but now? Nothing. He was also lagging behind even Shiki.

If Neku noticed it and Shiki noticed it, judging by the way she kept looking behind her and then back to Neku, then Rhyme must have noticed it. She didn’t give any indication of it, though. Was that on purpose?

This was another thing that Neku had to ask about. Later, after they had found Sota and Nao.

They didn’t exactly run to the park but it hadn’t been a gentle walk either. Finding his breathing to be slightly laboured he gestured for them to stop by the entrance of the park. He looked around the area. It was one of Shibuya’s more run-down locations.

While it wasn’t such a large area, they still needed somewhere to begin. He asked if they should split up to cover more ground. He would need to give a bit more detail, he suspected. Since Shiki and Rhyme agreed to it fairly quickly he started to give them a bit more description of what they looked like.

“Like I said to Shooter, Sota had shades. I don’t know if he’d be wearing the same thing but he also had ripped jeans. Some kind of black vest. Think he had a watch and a few necklaces. White armband. Think he had some piercings too.” He actually surprised himself with how much detail he remembered. Briefly, he wondered if having memory loss once meant that your memory was better once you got them back. Another question to ask, someday.

“Alright, so should we split up into two groups?” Shiki nodded at him. “Neku and I one way and you two in another?”

“Wait, Shiki.”

Beat had finally spoken up.

“It ain’t…it ain’t a good idea to split up.”

“Hm? This place is a little shady but it isn’t that bad.” As far as Neku knew, at least. “Beat?”

“…I think I know where they’re at.”

“You what?”

This time, Beat did start sprinting off. It was all they could do to keep up with him. They were heading deeper into the park and past any area Neku had visited before, or heck even known about. They were heading towards the side, near the Shibuya river as Shooter had mentioned, but down a path leading to the junction to the housing areas.

“Who’s there?”

Oh no.

Beat had led them to the edge of the park, with stairs dipping down from the raised ground. Several people were sat on these steps and they did not look like the friendliest bunch. Or at least, most of them didn’t.

“Oh hey! Beat, that you, man?”

Two of them got up.

Shit.

He had been looking for them. He had wanted to find them.

But -

Sota, sorry… I can’t…

Nao! Stay with me! We’re finishing this thing together!

I’d…love to…but it…doesn’t look like I can. Sorry…Sota…

- he found himself staggering backwards.

He would have fallen over if Shiki hadn’t jumped to his side to steady him.

“Wow, is your friend, like, okay there?”

Neku wanted to answer on his own but couldn’t. He could open his mouth to speak.

They don’t know me.

He knew they wouldn’t.

They’re alive.

He was so relieved they were.

And they…know Beat?

“Well, well, well. Lookie who showed up here?”

This didn’t come from either Sota or Nao but from one of the other people sat on the stairs. He wasn’t standing up but somehow his gaze managed to seem as if he was looking down on them.

“Did ya change your mind?”

The man tapped at his white arm-band. All of them were wearing white arm-bands.

“Beat, what’s going on?” Neku was suddenly aware that Shiki’s grip on him had tightened.

“Yeah, c’mon. What’s going on that you had the balls to come back here, huh ‘Beat’?”

This time the man did stand up and he towered above them all.

“Or should I still be calling you -

Beat didn’t flinch and met this man’s gaze head-on.

“ - ‘Mad Boar’?”

#TWEWY #The World Ends With You #TWEWY Bang 2020 #Subarashiki Kono Sekai #thestormfall #submission

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shih-coulda-had-it · 5 years

Text

trained by the best

Summary: Gran Torino is hired by the Hero Public Safety Commission to train Keigo Takami, boy wonder. Canon!AU. [Illustration included.]

“Torino-san?”

He blinked once, then again, like he could rid himself of this prim and proper lady standing at his doorstep. Sorahiko scrubbed his face with a rough hand and felt the stubble prickle his palm. So much for self-care. He eyed her with wariness. No one in a blazer had charitable intentions. Leaning into the old-timer’s growl, Sorahiko parried with, “Who needs him?”

She wasn’t having his shit. “The Hero Public Safety Commission.”

His hackles rose. “I don’t do that kind of work.”

“You misunderstand our initiative,” she said coldly, “but that is of no matter. Please welcome me in.”

Sorahiko bared his teeth in a semblance of a grin. “Welcome to my home,” he answered, and stepped aside. “Get to the point, before I have to offer you snacks and drinks.”

The lady gave his ramshackle apartment a disparaging onceover, and conceded. She untucked a manila folder from under her arm, and cleared her throat. “Torino Sorahiko. Pro Hero, Gran Torino. You were part of a government operation to take in All for One with your partner—”

“Get to the point,” he repeated.

She glared. “You’re one of the fastest pro heroes in Japan, and yet you’ve never been noticed by the public record. You once taught at U.A., but quit after a year. If it wasn’t for a footnote on the All for One operation, we wouldn’t even be aware of your skills.”

He maintained his poker face, but inwardly cursed at whoever kept the file. Sorahiko had stayed under the radar for a reason. Mostly because he hated the media, and the task of cultivating a reputation. He’d left that nonsense to Nana, who hadn’t actually liked it any better.

“I like my quiet life,” Sorahiko pronounced, folding his arms together. “You haven’t gotten to your point.”

“We’re looking to hire a combat tutor,” she grinded out. “Someone skilled in fighting at incredible speeds, and who wouldn’t be averse to being missing from the public eye. That’s you.”

“No one likes how I teach.”

“Statistics show that the one year you taught at U.A., the graduating students had more success in navigating their first tests in battle. The school attributes this to you.” The lady closed the file. “That’s what we’re asking of you. One year. More, if your teaching bears productive results.”

Sorahiko suspected some trickery. “Who would I be teaching? A class?”

“One boy,” she said, and it was like hearing Nana’s last words to him all over again. Sorahiko felt the ports on his legs hiss, and reflexively inhaled. “He’s quite young, but brimming with potential. Saved a family from a car crash at the age of six.”

“... And how old is he now?”

The lady lifted her chin. “Ten.”

“That’s too young.” It was an instinctive objection of sorts, born out of observing Toshinori’s terrible battle instincts and having to beat some sense into his class before they graduated. Sorahiko didn’t teach kindly. The memories of his spars with Toshinori sometimes riddled him with guilt; the idea of training a ten year old child the same way would probably cause Nana to rise from the grave and murder him. A different thought occurred to him. “Where’s his family?”

Not dead, he willed.

“They’re being handsomely compensated,” she answered. “He came from a low-income family, and needed attention he could not get otherwise.” The lady cocked her head. “And now, he needs training in combat that we cannot adequately provide without your help.”

“I can say no.”

“And we would find a second-best option.” He could feel his face twitch. “The boy will be trained. All that remains to be decided is by whom, and how well.”

“Might,” Sorahiko said with as much venom as was polite, “I have the name of the boy, and the location where we’ll be training?”

Her smile was cold too. Victory to the government offshoot. “You will refer to me as Miura. Your charge is Keigo Takami. He’ll be operating under the name of Hawks.” With a quick, graceful motion, she offered the folder; Sorahiko took it. “The training facilities are there. Report to the first one by this Monday, 0800 hours. Be prepared to give a verbal assessment of his skills.”

“Keigo-kun,” said Miura with a degree of warmth Sorahiko had previously not associated with her. “This is your new tutor. Call him Torino-sensei, okay?”

“Okay,” the kid replied quietly. His round face was entirely too serious for ten years old, and it made Sorahiko want to back out of the job. The Commission was grooming the kid to be a pro hero.

He’d be a striking figure. There was a charm to the kid’s scarlet red wings, the feathery quality of his dirty-blond hair, the black markings highlighting his avian nature. Keigo Takami met Sorahiko’s gaze with the most unimpressed expression a child had ever leveled in his direction.

Looks like they’ve done a number on you, kid, Sorahiko thought. Aloud, he said, “I hear you can move.”

Miura withdrew silently; the door hissed shut behind her. There was a viewing deck for this off-white cushioned room, but Sorahiko chose not to glance at it, preferring to see whether or not he could tease some life back into the kid’s deadened gaze.

“I can.”

“You warmed up?”

“I have.”

Geez. Like pulling teeth. Sorahiko idly tugged at his gloves. “Alright then. We’re gonna play a game of tag.” The kid’s eyes brightened, and his posture actually straightened even further with interest. “I’ll be it for three minutes. Every tap I get on you is a lap around the building perimeter. Ready?”

Tiny scarlet wings flared out in preparation. “Ready,” the kid echoed, and Sorahiko pulled out his stopwatch and showily held it up. At the click, Sorahiko jetted straight up to the ceiling and let the timer fall; Takami startled backwards at the rush of expelled air, and made eye contact just as Sorahiko kicked off and headed straight for him.

He kept it playful. The kid was fast, true, but he hadn’t yet learned to operate in a three-dimensional environment. Nana had dragged him, however reluctantly, through numerous games of Quirk tag. Takami was still young, and isolated to boot.

“Keep moving,” he advised on a pass, and Takami whirled around, too late to catch sight of him. He was caught up in the spin, so much so that Sorahiko was able to ricochet and pass by again to flick him on the shoulder.

At the end of three minutes, Takami was leaning on his knees and gasping for breath. Sorahiko… wasn’t unimpressed. He had expected a lot worse; if Toshinori and his class were evidence, the notion of constant movement wasn’t a universally-ingrained instinct. That Takami had eventually started darting and zigzagging in a desperate maneuver to avoid Sorahiko’s path spoke well of his battle instincts; Toshinori’s unfortunate go-to strategy of standing rooted to the ground had taken a number of beatings to unlearn.

“Ten taps,” said Sorahiko mildly, crouching down to meet Takami’s eyes. There was much more intrigue than earlier; respect had been earned, and not even grudgingly. “You did better than expected, kid.”

Takami’s eyes fairly sparkled. “I did?” he asked, almost shy.

“Yeah. You’ve already got the idea that moving should be your first strategy.” Sorahiko gestured at the wings, now marshaled back into a neat fold. “Give it a few years till your growth spurt, and you’ll be faster than me. Till then...” He tapped the kid’s nose. Kid went cross-eyed. “That’s eleven. If you use your wings, up it to fifteen.”

Takami vibrated in place. “Torino-sensei!” he complained, and looked surprised that he could whine.

Sorahiko finally glanced up at the viewing deck. A group of suits gazed imposingly down; the door hissed open. He creaked back up, and nodded at the kid. “Bully someone to chaperone you. Say I told you the laps are homework,” he advised, and Sorahiko turned to see Miura’s triumphant expression. “Miura-san.”

“Torino-san,” she returned. “Cutting your tutoring session short?”

“Sparring for an hour isn’t an option for now—” Sorahiko stopped, feeling something tug at his cape. He looked back and barely managed to see the tiny hand release the yellow fabric, the flash of guilt and self-reproach. “... A short intermission. However long our conversation lasts. Then I’ll do another round with him.”

“Very good,” Miura said patronizingly. “Keigo-kun—”

“I need a watcher,” the kid piped up, and Sorahiko was treated to the vindictive pleasure of seeing Miura get caught off-guard. “I have homework, and I want to finish it before the second round.”

“Homework?”

“Running eleven laps around the building,” he recited. “Or flying fifteen.”

“Running laps. How nice,” she said, and nice sounded awfully like quaint. Sorahiko wasn’t looking forward to the debriefing. It wouldn’t just be a performance review of a ten year old’s skills; it’d be the Commission deciding whether or not he was worth hiring for the year, and the years after. Sorahiko was already constructing a rough syllabus in his head, which was… a lot more than what his students had gotten.

But with them, it had been coming into the year with a plan, and having that plan be utterly annihilated upon first meeting. Combat training had always been self-taught. Experience trumped formal learning, and knowing the ins and outs of your Quirk would always give you an edge over your opponent.

Generalizing had been a huge issue in U.A. He didn’t have the time to personally drag a student through the effort of pushing their Quirk to the limit, and had instead decided the standard curriculum was bullshit, and pitted each class against him.

Twenty-four hours to strategize with each other. Three minutes to beat him. No one left without accumulating a whole collection of bruises, scrapes, and red paint marks. U.A. had eventually asked him to tone down whatever he was doing to wreck the gym facilities.

“Let’s debrief,” Sorahiko prompted, and Miura smiled.

“Sasagawa-san will be here to chaperone you, Keigo-kun,” she told the kid, and switched tones with Sorahiko. “Follow me.”

He followed.

#bnha #gran torino #torino sorahiko #hawks #shih.txt #fastest heroes in the east au #that might be as far as i go with writing #fun to think about though!#sorahiko hiding his connections with all might #all might eventually piecing together why hawks' fighting style is weirdly familiar #also. this au is where sorahiko's awful sense of humor shines #sorahiko's somewhere in his forties #starts shrinking in his fifties #angrily takes on the yoda stature by late sixties #takami keigo

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wild-aloof-rebel · 5 years

Text

waited so long to say this to you

Five times they say "I do" (and one they don't).

- part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 -

“And now the forecast is saying there’s a thirty percent chance of rain! I know that’s not a guarantee, but it was only twenty percent when I looked yesterday, so it’s getting— What— Why are you stopping? What are we doing?”

Patrick pulls the car onto the grassy shoulder and puts it in park, ignoring the protests of his clearly over-stressed fiancé. He reaches behind the seat to dig through the insulated bag he’d managed to sneak into the car while David was ranting about all the ways Alexis has been adding to his to-do list since she got back last week, emerging with two pints of ice cream and two spoons. He hands the cookies and cream to David whose face does a thing where his eyes go big and wide with surprise while his mouth goes small and soft. It’s a study in contradictions, just like David himself, and it’s one of Patrick’s favorite looks; he cherishes every time he can manage to make it appear.

“What’s this?” David asks.

“You’re stressed about the wedding.” David scowls, as if Patrick is pointing out some dark secret. As if the pitch and cadence and length of his ranting over the last hour hadn’t given him away. “So we’re taking a break from the to-do list. Just for a few minutes,” he adds as panic begins to well up in David’s eyes. “We can have some ice cream, relax, and then we’ll go back home and tackle whatever else needs to be done tonight. So dig in before it gets too melty.”

For a moment, it looks like David might protest, but then he sags back against his seat, pulling the lid from the container. “I don’t like it when it’s melty.”

“I know.”

They eat in comfortable silence for a while, Patrick enjoying his maple walnut, feeding David a spoonful every time he takes a break from inhaling his own. Patrick loves how much David loves ice cream, loves the way his eyes close on the first bite, the way he lets it sit on his tongue for a moment before he swallows, relishing it like he’d forgotten just how good it is. Loves the way the rest of the pint disappears in exactly the opposite way, consumed with manic, childlike glee and gone before Patrick can finish a quarter of his own. Loves the way David will complain later, curled up in their bed with a bellyache, and Patrick will rub soothing circles into his skin and kiss him till it’s better.

“Why here?” David asks when he drops the spoon into his empty pint, looking out the window at Town Hall directly across the street.

It’s where they’re getting married next week. Precisely one week from today, they’ll be inside, somewhere in the middle of their ceremony, perhaps reciting their vows or sliding rings onto each other’s fingers. Patrick thinks he’ll probably be crying, whatever they’re doing. The happy tears will probably start the moment he sees David and won’t stop until sometime around their 50th anniversary. Maybe not even then.

He leans across the seat to kiss his fiancé, sticky and sweet, his cold tongue warmed by the heat of David’s, relishing the fizzy laughter he can taste there.

“Tell me about the rain,” he says when they part.

“It’s only a thirty percent chance.” The words are much less frantic this time, like David could be talking about the weather for tomorrow or some other day that isn’t their wedding day. “It’s probably nothing,” he says confidently, turning in his seat to lean back against the door, and Patrick watches the way his eyes slide over to look at Town Hall again, a soft, wistful smile settling across his lips.

“Probably,” Patrick agrees. “But what’s the backup plan if we need it?”

This is what they do. It’s what they’ve done with the store and what they’ve done in their relationship, and now it’s what they’re doing with their wedding. David handles the dreams. Patrick handles reality. It works for them. It works really fucking well.

“Jocelyn is bringing the umbrellas the Jazzagals used for that Singin’ in the Rain medley. They’re fugly and yellow, but people only need them to get to the cafe, where we can move the reception inside if needed, so it’s going to be fine.” David says the last part like he’s practiced it, and in truth, he has. They’ve gone through their plans, their backup plans, the schedule for the day, the catering menu, their song selections, all of it enough that they both have the whole of the day memorized. Patrick feels like there’s nothing they haven’t prepared for, which is just the way he likes it. Sometimes David just needs to be reminded of that.

“And what if the power goes out?”

“The ceremony will be fine because it’s early enough and there are plenty of windows,” David recites. “There’s an extra case of Jennifer’s candles in the stock room at the store if we need them for the reception. Stevie is letting us borrow that ancient”—he swallows thickly, the next word sticking in his throat for a moment before he manages to free it—“boombox from the motel, which we can use as speakers for your phone. The batteries for it and a portable charger for your phone are already in the emergency bag.”

“You develop a sudden rash?”

“Cold compress and tea tree oil. If that doesn’t work, Alexis’s makeup. If that doesn’t work, Mom’s stage makeup. Absolute last resort: Photoshop.”

“We spill something on our tuxes?”

“My backup sweater and pants are already in my bag. You’ll wear the cashmere sweater I got you for your birthday and those grey slacks that make your ass look so good.”

Patrick gives him a knowing smirk. “You always think my ass looks good.”

“What? It’s a good ass!” He laughs, bright and loud, absolutely beautiful in his happiness, before his mouth twists into something sweeter and shier. “I’m gonna marry that ass.”

The smirk on Patrick’s face grows into a grin nearly too big to be contained. “And here I‌ thought you loved me for my sparkling personality.”

“Oh, I love that, too, but your ass is the real draw here.”

He chuckles and drops a happy kiss to David’s knuckles, brushing his thumb across the four rings he’d put there just a few months ago, the four rings that mean at this time next week David will be his husband. “Is this helping?”

David nods. “Yeah, just… can we keep going?”

They have a long, frighteningly extensive list of backup plans for every worst case scenario they could think of, from the mundane to the unlikely and absurd. Patrick is pretty certain they won’t need to use their backup plan for what happens if a member of the wedding party becomes possessed by a demonic entity, but if it makes David feel better to have a plan just in case, Patrick is more than happy to give him one (isolate the possessed person in the bathroom if possible, remove everyone else from the area if not, send another member of the wedding party to the church to get a priest).

He drops his melting container of ice cream into the cup holder and takes David’s hands to run through the rest of the list. “The caterer doesn’t show?”

“We order delivery from Panucci’s.”

“The cake collapses?”

“There are mini cupcakes in the freezer at the store.”

“The heel on one of your mother’s shoes breaks?”

“Dad��s bringing an extra pair in the car.”

“The officiant doesn’t show?”

“Roland—god forbid—conducts the ceremony from the copy of the script saved on Stevie’s phone.”

“An osprey gets loose in Town Hall?”

“We— What the fuck is an osprey?”

Patrick bites back a laugh, swallowing hard to try to keep it from spilling out of his mouth. He doesn’t do a very good job of it. “A big bird. Like a hawk.”

David glares at him, though the corner of his mouth twitches upward in spite of him. “You were in charge of the backup plans, and I don’t think you made one for that. Now if an ostrich—”

“Osprey.”

“—interrupts our vows, it’s going to be all your fault, Patrick Brewer.”

Patrick grins and grins and grins some more, so incredibly in love with this man and the dramatic pout now aimed his way. “Well we wouldn’t want that,” he says, leaning teasingly across the center console, and David drags him the rest of the way in, pulling Patrick over to crash against his mouth, hard and brash as thunder. The heat of it rolls through him, echoing against tendon and bone, leaving them vibrating against one another, David stretching his fingers along the line of Patrick’s jaw, Patrick twisting his hands into David’s hair, dragging him closer, wanting more of him, wanting every good and gorgeous thing he can give him.

Unfortunately, they’re in the front seat of his car in the middle of the afternoon, parked practically in the center of town. It’s not exactly an ideal place for David to give him anything at all, so Patrick lets all of his buzzing desire settle back down into a gentle hum and reluctantly pulls away.

David watches him go, starry-eyed and slow, like he’s still stuck somewhere in the moment with Patrick’s lips on his, finally coming back to himself with a long blink. “How do you do it?” he asks, a little wrinkle forming on his brow.

“Do what?”

“This.” The rings on his hand flash wildly as he gestures at the ice cream and Town Hall and everything else within view. “How do you always manage to know exactly what I need?”

Patrick shakes his head. “You think I‌ don’t know how to love you?” He reaches across to twine the fingers of their left hands together, one of David’s rings pressing against the place where his own will soon sit, squeezing against the feeling as he tries to find what he wants to say. “Best, I’ve spent the better part of three years thinking about and trying to do little else. I mean, I’m not perfect. And I’m— I’m still gonna get it wrong sometimes.” He looks up into the deep, steady warmth of those familiar brown eyes. “But this—loving you—it’s the easiest thing I’ve ever done. And I’m so glad I’m gonna get to spend the rest of my life doing it.”

Strong hands are dragging him in again before he even finishes his sentence, cradling his face so that David can kiss him long and deep and slow.

If it’s also a little wet, Patrick pretends not to notice.

“I love you,” David whispers against his lips, and then his cheeks, and then his nose. “Do you know that?” He kisses Patrick’s eyelids and his chin and his forehead. “Do you know how much I love you?”

“I do,” Patrick says, feeling the warmth of David’s smile in the kisses fluttering all over his skin. “I do.” And he reels his fiancé back in so that he can savor the truth of it on his lips.

Far too soon though, David is leaning away again, just a trace of his panic returning as he asks, “Do you really think there might be an osprey?”

Patrick shakes his head but says, “I’ll make a backup plan just in case.”

Seemingly satisfied, David tilts in to kiss him once more, laughing and joyous and light, and Patrick thinks that next week can’t possibly come soon enough.

#schitt's creek #schitts creek #david x patrick #david rose #patrick brewer #after 4 full rewrites and throwing out like a solid 5k words #this is finally done #took it an entirely different direction than i'd originally intended but it is what it is #rebel writes #wsltstty #it'll be up on ao3 in just a min if you prefer to read there #as always apologies if the cut doesn't appear on mobile #long post

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