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crazyexdirkfriend · 10 months

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Hiiii

I was wondering if you had any advice on writing fics? I find myself struggling with structure/timeline(?) the most

Hi! Thanks for asking! Hmm I'm not sure what tips I have for you exactly, but I'll try and explain my process.

I have two approaches myself when I write fic:

I plan meticulously. I know exactly every scene and every chapter that will be in the fic. I do an outline, I explain it, and then I write it-- sometimes in order, generally depending on what bit I want to write when to keep myself motivated. Examples of this approach: Can Town Communication Manual, Okay Cupid!, calvariæ

I come up with a concept, theme, plot premise. And then I write whatever I want, whenever I want to, and when I have a solid chunk written I start figuring out how that's all supposed to flow together and tidy it up, write the intermittent parts etc. Examples of this approach: we were something, perpetuity, eschewal

Two alternatives to those: Now and then I write a fic in one sitting, such as lunar calendar, let it linger, or vote now on your phones. And now and then something theoretically has a chapter plan or structure but I go so loosey goosey off script that it ends up not mattering at all, such as shag emotionally devastate etc. or two short hours etc.

I will admit, most of my approaches use 2. BUT. I can use 2. because I spent about 4-5 years writing only using approach 1 and can generally eyeball what something is supposed to look like. Am I always right? No. But generally I think my pacing works for what I want it for.

BUT you want advice, not me being like eh? I throw darts at a board and sometimes they stick?

Okay! So here are my guides.

One, look at a three act structure. I ganked this one from the internet.

This is how a typical movie or book or, yes, fanfiction is set up. How this works is v easy to explain for multichapters or longfics with numbers in my opinion. Take a ten chapter standard long fic.

Chapters 1-2 should introduce your characters and premise, and involve your inciting incident- ie, what idea is dropped into the narrative that is going to make the rest of this plot roll out.

Chapters 3-4 should get your ball rolling. The plot should be happening, characters should be introduced, your quest should be underway.

Chapter 5 (and maybe one before or after) is where stakes should be getting high, the action is rising, the tension is occuring. Things are starting to get into action.

Chapter 6 or 7 should have a new plot point or a twist in the tale. Something goes very wrong or very right. A battle results in a huge victory and our hero is cocky. Or they lose a football game and it's a huge blow. Some wedge comes between our favourite ship- and they're going to need to confront it. This is often where a couple hook up for the first time in romances- that can be done well, it's often cliche, but hey fanfiction in general is. Here you can also have the calm before the storm too- things can be going wrong, but they can also be going well! Too well.

Chapter 8 is your conflict climax, the culmination of what you've been building up to. This is often where your ship will realise they have a seemingly irreconcilable difference, or they'll have a dispute that leads to a breakdown. An earlier betrayal can be revealed! In non romances, your hero can realise they've been fighting for a lie, they can be taken off the football team for something, their friends can abandon them. You know this part in a movie- it's where the music builds and you start to feel sick with stress. Or at least I do.

Chapter 9 is your resolution, your falling action. If you're going to fix things, this is where you do it. This is your resolution climax-- if your protagonist is going to, hm, chase their love interest through an airport to propose or confess their undying love or apologise for all their misdeeds, this is where they do it.

Chapter 10 is your quiet end, your new beginning: your epilogue if you will. Or, since this is fanfiction, this is often where you stick the sex scene but I often find that can be tonally jarring. Up to you!

Now you may be thinking: JEEZ that's awfully rigid. Well that's for math structure nerds like me who need to get their pacing down. That is to be taken not as gospel, but as a very basic "yes this is proven to work, if needs be" structure guide. It's the structure you'll find in classic films such as Legally Blonde 2001 or Music and Lyrics 2007 (warning: music and lyrics is not a classic film). But structures ARE made to be played with and broken. But to do that you need to understand the basic structure first, and then play with it. If you don't, you'll end up with like 7 climaxes like Outbreak 1995

One shots often don't have this kind of structure. There is no conflict in perpetuity for example. There's no real resolution in shag emotionally devastate etc. That's fine! I am a big big big BIG believer that writing form is a specific skill: not every novel writer can write poetry, not every poet can write plays etc. And fanfiction allows writers to use prose in a way that doesn't work in stand-alone fiction.

Which brings us to point two: meat and candy

Ganking this from Hussie himself because it does genuinely mean something. If we take meat to be plot, form, action, and candy to mean character, relationships, dialogue, then we know that any good story has BOTH. Fanfiction can sometimes get away with being all candy (fluff fic, aus, etc) and movies often get away with being all meat (can you remember the characters in various action films?). But generally speaking? You need that balance. Without candy, I don't care about your characters enough to give a shit if one of them dies in the meat. Without meat, there are no stakes, no tension, just some characters having meaningless banter that goes nowhere.

So with structure, you need both. You need a plot that's engaging and you need enough tension, twists, stakes in that to keep readers interested. But you also need to pad that out with periods of rest for your characters to speak to each other, show us things about themselves, and show their every day lives. We'll care more when we see what's being snatched away from them.

Ideally, you interweave this. Casual conversations will drop little tidbits in that foreshadow something that will happen later in the plot. Action sequences will have little interactions that tell us something about character relationships ie. one character protecting another.

Third point, read more of what you want to write. Look, ideally we'd all broaden our horizons and watch and read loads of things from different forms and genres and we'd all be great at media literacy. But let's face it: maybe you should watch Citizen Kane, but it's probably not going to help you write your fanfiction. What WILL? Reading fanfiction.

But also. You want to write experimental prose fic? Great! Read poetry. Read experimental prose flash fiction. Watch short films at your local LGBT film festival that absolutely bewilder you. You want to write long form ship fic? Great! Read romance chick lit. Watch rom coms. How are these structured? What styles do they use? How do they show love or growing affection? Then GANK IT. I'm stealing the entire "she can't order a sandwich" bit from When Harry Met Sally as we speak.

This also works for my math friends. You love a particular long fic? Want to structure yours that well? Gank it. Copy and past a chapter and see how long it is and aim fo that word count. That fic has 3 scenes per chapter? Aim for 2-4 yourself. 6? Aim for 5-7. How many chapters does it take for the oh oh moment to occur? How many times does the main couple speak per chapter? When does their inciting incident occur? Gank. It. You can't steal a chapter structure so reference it all you want.

And all of that is to say: if you struggle with structure, you need an outline. Check the fic you want to be most like and reference how long it is, how many chapters etc. Then make a bullet point list of each chapter, then fit your plot into it. Then expand it. Expand it some more. Put every detail you need to remember into this outline. Mine are generally 1/8th of the piece's total length. Then sit on it for a week and come back to it. Make sure you're following some act template, or your approximation of it for what you're writing. Make sure each chapter has plot progression and character introspection, meat and candy.

Bonus Round!!! Some random tips

If you struggle with description (LIKE ME) write dialogue first. It's just like rping with yourself and it can help keep your character voices solid.

Try to start and end chapters on engaging notes. One liners, cliff hangers, something to keep people waiting without pissing them off. True cliffhangers (near deaths, accidents etc) are often cliche, but can be done well. But leave a reader something to chew on, something to comment on, something to hypothesise about. Or even just a line you think fucks.

Can't think of a structure? Write now, figure it out later. One shots often don't need a strict structure, like I said-- sometimes you have the luxury of writing off pure vibes if your themes and characterisation are solid.

Refer back to canon. Call back to canon in text if you have to. But it's always good to have notes for what you're trying to do thematically-- would facets of your character's character interfere with your pacing? ie. yeah okay maybe the couple sleeps together at the chapter 7 point in fanfiction a lot, but if you're writing a character who would never do that, or a character who would have done that 5 chapters ago, then consider if that takes precedence over structure or if there's a reason for this point.

Having a solid chapter plan allows for foreshadowing, even for minor things in dialogue. And this is so so so so so so so fun please don't deprive yourself of this. I am literally kicking my legs writing Okay Cupid! right now. I think there are like 7 incidents of foreshadowing in chapter one alone. I love when a plan comes together.

If you want more writing/storycraft tips and theories: Save the Cat- Blake Snyder (Scriptwriting based) The general go to book for film structure, definitely solved major holes in my script-writing Into the Woods- John Yorke (Storycraft) A classic On Writing- Stephen King (Novel) Worth a read, solved a big character quandary for my personal work

Also I follow a number of writing tumblr blogs that frequently put tips on my dash: you might find these useful too, so I recommend having a scour!

x x x x x Research semiotic theory, such as Barthes (Death of the Author, Mythologies) or Chandler (Semiotics: The Basics). Also look at intertextuality and cross-border, cross-media analysis (Such as Henry Jenkins). This is if you're feeling adventurous and want to look at thematic structure in Homestuck and apply this to your work. You can write very good fic without ever considering this, so this is an if you're interested not a you must.

Anyway that was obscenely long because I do NOT know how to structure a neat ask response, but I hope this is all of some use to you! Good luck with your fic writing, and if you've any more questions shoot them my way!

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afreakingdork · 9 months

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I’m sorry you’re sick! Hope you get to feeling better soon!

Had a question for You, I know I’ve had several about WS but I wanted to ask what other fandoms you are in or which fandoms you’ve written for? Do you switch fandoms while you write or do you stick with one until the fixation is done? (If it ever ends)

🦝

I also ate a snack and I was right, the feral tendencies have retreated. Who knew.

Eh, I have a terrible immune system despite doing everything humanely possible to improve it. As my dear bestie Aaya says when I tell her I'm sick 'are we surprised?' No! We never are! 😂

I'm open to any and all questions without fail so never fear, racconie! Other fandoms, heh. What AREN'T I IN!? No, no, I see what you're trying to say here and it's not what I meant. This is the first time I've ever been active in a fandom in my life! I was just talking to digi about this the other day, but my history with fandom has always to just do my own thing. I'd read fanfiction, support artists, buy merch, ect ect, but never talk to anyone. I've been writing fanfiction off and on for years, but I think my first true foray into it legitimately would be writing kacchako for My Hero Academia. I wrote like 23? fics in like one year.

Basically what happens with me is every couple of years I get hyperfixated on something. Up until my current hyperfixiation it was always a ship. i actually made a list, let's see....

Now tack on:

2022 - Donatello (Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

I am constantly consuming media, so that's what I meant earlier by what aren't I into to. When I hyperfixation gets me though, I am at her mercy. I can only do what she bids me. For example, when i was obsessed with Spamano, I read every single (this is not hyperbole) spamano fic on fanfiction.net at the the time. It was many hundreds of fics. I just bunkered down over a summer and read. I did nothing but read. It was wild.

Do I switch fandoms when writing? As you can see by the one kacchako fic I don't have finished... No. As much as it pains me I can only write in one headspace at a time and with one of those two being one i'm obsessed with... the other goes to the wayside. It's a terrible curse, what it also makes my brain go brrrrr so what can ya do? One day I hope to figure it out!

Ah, you were cursed with hangry. It happens to us all. I hope that answers your question!

#ask #me #about me #ref

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authorautumnbanks · 10 months

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How To Tame A Sorcerer (17)

Kagome stares hard at the scene in front of her. The small town is bustling with townsfolk and tourist alike. With its simple shops and albeit beautiful spares of nature, she just can't figure out why this town and not Tokyo is full of tourists. Then again, she's never bothered to pay attention to how far away the apartment is from the city. Not that Satoru would let her focus on anything other than him. She huffs. Turns her head in his direction. Satoru's eyes gleam with mischief behind his black shades.

"For someone so insistent on tagging along, you sure don't pay attention." He sticks his bottom lip out.

"You've been talking about ice cream and shortcakes the whole ride here. Which isn't actual breakfast by the way." She rolls her brown eyes and then makes contact with Ijichi. "Ijichi-san, could you please share the details of the mission? I don't trust Satoru to not leave something out."

"Rude!"

"Of course, Kagome-san." Ijichi pulls into an alley parking spot. "There have been reports—rumors of people coming back to life." He takes a breath. "Some can revive their stillborn children and others have reported that zombies are attacking."

"Zombies?" She repeats, though her mind is still stuck on the resurrection of children. His words loop through her mind like a broken record.

"That's creepy," Yuji voices from the passenger's seat. Agreement rumbles from Kagome's chest.

"Eh? People actually fall for something as ridiculous as that?"

"No one thinks rationally when they are grieving," Kagome says. Satoru just shrugs. She tapers it down, but if they were alone, then she'd remind Satoru how no one would believe that she literally fell into his lap from another world. Resurrection isn't that farfetched. "Moving on. Please continue."

"Thank you. We believe that it may be the work of a curse user. The mothers who have sought to bring their child back to life have been reported to have been murdered. Specifically, their faces have been ripped off. Authorities have found them still holding onto their children." He clears his throat. "The zombies have been reported attacking at night and taking chunks out of the victims. Some have been able to get away, only to die in the hospital from their injuries."

"I really should have taken you guys on a different mission," Satoru chimes in. He says it so blase, as though everything is nothing more than a joke. But Kagome sees the way his hands flex against her thighs and how his shoulders stiffen. There are no exaggerated facial expressions to go along with his words.

"What is a curse user? Isn't that what you are?" She steers the subject to the potential suspect.

"Someone that uses their technique to harm other humans. A sorcerer- a proper one, uses their abilities to protect those that can't protect themselves." He grips the door handle and huffs. "Are you going to let us out or not?" Just as quickly as the door unlocks, Satoru is out of the car. Kagome grabs the bow and arrow that he told her not to bring. It's not a matter of not trusting that Satoru is strong—she can feel that he is—but more so that she refuses to be some damsel in distress.

"Gojo-sensei, how are we supposed to find this curse user? There's so many people here," Yuji questions, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Cursed energy leaves a trail." Satoru stops and points down. "Focus. Can you see the footprints? Whoever is behind this, is sloppy to leave a trail like this. Or they want to be found." He resumes following the trail. From her left, Yuji bounces as he walks. Happiness radiates off the pink-haired boy. Kagome smiles as she looks him over. She had forgotten what it was like to go on an adventure. And it's clear just how high Yuji regards Satoru.

They take several turns, weaving in and out of the crowd until they reach a souvenir shop. The dense amount of cursed energy around the area makes her sick. Kagome grips the quiver strap, her hands shake. A chill ices her veins as she resists the urge to purify the area. Satoru holds open the door for them, his face blank. Her own face burns as she refocuses on the problem at hand. It is so not the time to be thinking about how hot he looks when he's serious. As if sensing where her mind is diverging towards, Satoru winks at her. He laughs when she trips over her own feet on the way into the shop.

If it wasn't for the sheer dense amount of cursed energy, she would never suspect that such a bland store could be harboring such a terrible person. The souvenirs looked mediocre at best. Which, now that she thinks about it, could be why the man resorted to such terrible tactics.

"Are you the guy?" Satoru asks, stuffing his hands into his pockets. The man blinks as his mouth opens and closes as if he can't find the correct answer. His dark eyes sink in even more, threatening to melt inside of the surrounding flesh. His haggard appearance is off-putting as if he's the one under a curse. But she doesn't see any curses, so the source must be coming from him. "I'm on a tight schedule. It's a yes or no question," Satoru chides.

"Oh! I'm so glad you are here." The man clasps his hands together in prayer as he walks around the counter. "I've been requesting help for weeks," he says, voice quivering with each step. "I'd feel much better if we do this in the back. You are going to get rid of the curse, right?"

"So, he's not bringing the dead back to life?" Yuji asks as they follow the man to the back. Kagome looks up at Satoru, but he ignores both of them. "I'm so confused," Yuji grumbles to himself. Kagome reaches out and pats his back in reassurance.

The man turns to them. He looks—dare she say—hopeful. The standard black uniform clings to him from the sheer amount of perspiration coming from him. "I am so blessed. So blessed that it is you they sent." He dabs his forehead with his sleeve as he looks at Satoru.

"How are you bringing the dead back?" Satoru rocks on the ball of his feet.

"I-uh. Well, I retrieved their souls. With help," He stammers out, his chest heaves as black splotches break out on his face. His face elongates, as his teeth exchange themselves for fangs. His body stretches, ripping his clothes in the process. Kagome takes a step back. Satoru keeps rocking back and forth, not at all bothered by the sight of the once human transforming into some kind of beast.

There's a shift in the air. Stilted. It's as though all the oxygen is being sucked out of her lungs and stopping short on the tip of her tongue. Something isn't right. Kagome glances at Satoru. If he notices anything, he doesn't say. His gaze and Yuji's seem to be too concerned with the curse in front of them.

She just can't put her finger on it. Something just isn't right. And it's not how easily the curse spits out several barbed legs that twist and curve around one another. Nor is it the way its mouth oozes with some kind of dark mist.

"C'mere." Gojo reaches out, pulling her closer to him. "Yuji, hold on to me." He tucks his glasses into his jacket. "I believe that the special grade you fought had an incomplete domain. I'll show you what a perfect one looks like."

Kagome tunes Satoru out in favor of delving into that churning feeling in her gut. For a brief moment, the nauseous feeling passes as Satoru takes them into his domain. But even within his infinite void, there's still a tug urging her to investigate.

But what exactly?

A ball of red energy forms from the tip of Satoru's finger. It shoots out and exorcises the curse on immediate contact. She blinks as the white fades away and the storage room comes back into focus. Nimble fingers rub her side as Yuji praises Satoru repeatedly.

"That guy was weak. I want you beating curses ten times stronger."

"Eh? Ten times!"

Their back and forth are muffled as the hair on her arms stands up. "Something isn't right. There's something else here."

"I don't see anything," Satoru responds. "It's time for sweets, anyway."

"Wait, sensei. What about the zombies?" Yuji sticks his hand up.

"The curse is gone, so we don't need to worry about that." Satoru slips his glasses back on. "Wasn't expecting that guy to give in so easily, though. What a bore."

"That's the problem with humans. So fickle." Kagome's heart drops as they turn towards the sound of the newcomer.

"And you are?" Satoru asks, his voice deceptively cheery.

"No one of importance," the dark-haired demon answers. He tilts his head as he fishes out a mirror from his kimono. Horror seizes Kagome's throat. She can't sense anything from this demon.

Void. Like Kanna.

"You guys need to leave," She says, pulling her bow and an arrow out from the quiver. Satoru barks a laugh.

"You can't be serious?"

"Stay awhile," the demon speaks up. "I require a new curse user since you so rudely exorcised my last one."

"So, you're the one that cursed him?" Satoru spikes his hair. His stance is far too relaxed.

"It's easier that way. I wonder though." He rubs the mirror with affection, his yellow eyes assess them. "Just how far I'd get using you."

"Sensei isn't a curse user! He's a proper sorcerer," Yuji yells, his fists balled at his sides.

"So naïve," the demon mutters, holding the mirror up. Kagome moves to push Satoru out of the way, but the demon is faster. The mirror latches onto Satoru's soul. "How wonderful. Looks like that infinity can't protect you from everything."

The room lights blue from the power of the mirror and Satoru's soul attempting to fight back. His body shakes. Lurches forward and then back. Kagome and Yuji grab a hold of him as his body goes limp. Kagome's face grows hot as she takes in the lifelessness of him. It's not a sight she'd ever prepared herself for. She can barely hear Yuji's wails over the sound of her heart thrumming in her eardrums.

"So much for the strongest," Sukuna remarks. The sound of Yuji repeatedly slapping his face wakes Kagome from her daze. "To be defeated so easily. Ha! You stand no chance, brat. I can't wait to watch you two die slowly."

"You fucking bastard," Kagome screams as she rises up. She picks up the fallen bow and arrow on her way. Notches it. Her brown eyes blink back tears. Her entire body shakes, trying to expel the fury brewing inside of her. "Give him his soul back."

"Cute. But you are in no position to make demands of me, girl." The demon smirks as he looks at his mirror. She releases the arrow, aiming for the mirror. The demon scoffs. Laughs as the sparks emit from the arrow. "You can't possibly think that this will do anything?" He questions.

The arrow pierces. Cracks form in the mirror as the arrow forces its way further in. Pink bursts from the tip. "I'd release his soul if I were you." She notches another arrow. Points it at his head. The demon's dark eyes widen as the mirror shatters. The souls release. Some pass through the walls, some go out towards the ceiling. But the only one she cares about shoots directly towards Satoru's lifeless body.

She shoots the second arrow. The demon quickly fades away. The pressure in the room returns to normal as she drops her bow and falls to her knees at Satoru's side. Yuji regards her with a mixture of happiness and wariness.

"What did you do?" Sukuna questions. She ignores the appearance of a mouth on Yuji's cheek. Satoru still hasn't opened his eyes yet. Kagome brushes the white strands from his forehead as she moves him halfway onto her lap.

"Yuji-kun, would you be able to call for Ijichi-san? I don't think we'll be able to carry him back to the car."

"Y-yeah," he responds, scrambling to his feet. His footsteps get further away. She's thankful for the privacy.

"How are we supposed to get breakfast if you won't wake up?" Her lips wobble from the effort of trying to smile as tears fall freely from her eyes onto his face. "I'll have to tell Yuji-kun about your secret stash in the living room."

Satoru groans. Her breath hitches as she continues to rub his forehead. "I feel like I've been hit by a fucking train." She lifts his glasses up, delighting in the sparkling blue that greets her. "Hi," he whispers as if the moment will be broken.

"You're such an idiot," she scolds, leaning over to brush her lips against his. It's an awkward position, but they make it work. His hands reach out and grip the side of her face, deepening the kiss. "Next time, you listen."

"Mhm. But I'm your idiot." He stretches his legs and pulls her head back down.

"Yeah, I guess you are."

"You guess?" He whines. She kisses him again. Laughing against his lips despite the saltiness of her tears getting in the way.

"Come on, let's go get that breakfast you wanted."

#gojo satoru x kagome #gojo x kagome #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #inuyasha fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen x inuyasha #crossover fanfiction #kagome higurashi #gojo satoru

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ninjadeathblade · 2 months

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Febuwhump Day Twenty Seven: Left for dead

Warnings: Attempted murder, blood, a bit of injury description

Word count: 878

Author's notes: Finally, how these guys met.

Havoc's tracking fob cut out suddenly.

The Zabrak smacked it a few times, waiting for it to come back on, but it seemed to be to no avail.

They sighed, making a mental note to find out who had gotten the bounty before them.

A group rounded the corner, one they vaguely recognised from the guild.

Havoc's interest piqued as they caught the conversation.

“Easy pickings.”

“Didn't realise clones were still alive.”

“Well, whoever set the bounty paid well.”

“Wait, you just got a bounty?” Havoc asked.

One of the members of the group shrugged. “Yeah, what's it to you?”

Havoc listed the details of the bounty they'd been set.

Another of the group nodded. “Yup, that's him. Left that thing round the corner. Not our business to get rid o’ the body.”

Havoc nodded, waited for them to leave before going around the corner the group had come from.

A figure was slumped against the wall, the smell of blaster smoke hanging in the air.

Havoc walked over to the figure, crouching beside him and checking for a pulse.

Faint, but still there.

Good.

“Hey, you awake?” Havoc asked.

The clone shifted slightly, nodding a tiny bit before coughing up a splatter of blood.

Havoc frowned as the red liquid got on their armour but continued. “I'm gonna take you to my ship and patch you up, alright?”

“Why?” The clone croaked.

“If you're a clone not serving the Empire, then you really didn't mean to get in this mess,” Havoc explained, picking up the clone before standing. “I don't know who put that bounty on your head but I'm glad those idiots didn't finish you off.”

The clone smiled weakly, reaching a shaky, blood-stained hand up to drag through his dark brown curls. “Not often that natborns like us.”

Havoc shifted his grip, trying not to touch the blaster wound in the clone’s side. “Yeah, well, just try and stay awake.”

~•~

Ghost stared at the bounty hunter.

Or at least, he assumed they were a bounty hunter if they had known about a bounty being on his head.

The Zabrak crossed over to him, passing a ration bar. “Sorry it isn't much.”

Ghost all but snatched the food, trying to pace himself with eating but ultimately scarfing it down too quickly.

He promptly pushed the bounty hunter out the way and threw up.

“Oh, wow, that's- ugh- that's- I'm gonna go.”

Ghost heard pounding footsteps before wretching came from somewhere else on the ship.

When the Zabrak reappeared they looked paler, red skin looking duller.

They crouched beside his bed, using a few cleaning tools to get rid of the mess on the floor of the ship. “So, clones got names, right? What's yours?”

“Ghost,” he said quietly before adding, “I'm sorry I threw up.”

“Hey, it shows you're feeling a little better. At least I found you before you bled to death in that alley,” the bounty hunter replied nonchalantly. “I'm Havoc by the way.”

“Thanks Havoc,” Ghost whispered, fingers dropping to skim over where Havoc had bandaged his middle.

Havoc disposed of the cleaned up sick before sitting down on the floor next to the bed Ghost was on. “Well, I'll be honest, you've got two options.”

Oh no.

Ghost began to shake.

Havoc's brow furrowed and they hurriedly continued. “Nothing bad, I'm not gonna kill you.”

Right.

They had bandaged him, of course they weren't looking for a fight.

“Option one is that you go back to running around on Coruscant doing kriff knows what and hoping that no more bounty hunters go after you,” Havoc explained. “Option two is that you can stick with me, become a bounty hunter, and get a slightly better chance at survival.” The Zabrak smirked. “Besides, I'm betting that being in the war gave you some fairly good combat skills.”

Ghost blinked. “I can't kill people.”

Havoc shrugged. “Eh, no problem. I'll handle the combat, I just need someone to watch my back. My last partner-”

The bounty hunter’s eyes misted before they quickly shook their head.

“Doesn't matter what happened to her. Anyway, I think that staying away from one of the most anti-clone planets at the moment is smart. But I can drop you back off on Coruscant if you want.”

“We aren't on Coruscant?” Ghost panicked, trying to stand before letting out a cry of pain.

Havoc rushed to his side, gently coaxing him to sit back down. “Nah, had to get outta there. While you were out of your mind on bacta, the guys who tried to kill you came back. Don't worry, I managed to get the tracker off you but we're about half way to Tatooine at the moment.”

Ghost's eyes went wide as he tried to comprehend what was happening.

“Either way, you don't have to decide straight away,” Havoc said. “If you need anything, gimme a shout. But try and rest, alright?”

The clone watched as they began to walk away.

“Thank you, Havoc,” Ghost called.

The bounty hunter merely waved over his shoulder before heading into a different room on the ship.

Ghost collapsed back against the bed.

He'd found out what he needed to and it had nearly cost him his life.

Kriff, he missed Rose.

#star wars oc #sw oc #clone oc #oc ghost #oc havoc #febuwhump #febuwhump2024 #febuwhumpday27 #tw attempted murder #tw blood #tw injury description #tw injury

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blackbutlerfandomnerddomain · 8 months

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September 2nd, the day a certain woman gave birth to the first born son. The day many doctors and nurses stare at the healthy glow of bouncy baby cheeks.

The day her whole world was right and perfectly fine…

September 2nd, the day 5 year old Teruteru watched as the man he calls his father pushed his dear mama aside as she cried and pleaded for him to stay. “Why must I stay with a damn boar of a peasant woman like you? Because of your disgusting piglets?!” He shouted as he raised a hand, threatening to strike her down. “My bride just announced she’s expecting! A rich and beautiful woman to bear me children I deserve!” As the door slams and the boy watches in shame his mother sobbing harshly as his two baby siblings cry in the backroom, he silently waddles over and puts his small chubby hands on her shaking back as the best he could do in a comforting method in his sadness and confusion.

September 2nd, the day Teruteru got his acceptance letter from the well known high school called Hope’s Peak Academy. Heart full of beaming joy as he reads the paper calling him the title he wears with deep pride: The Ultimate Cook. He hurries downstairs to the restaurant’s floor with glee, waving his paper around excited. “Mama mama! I made it! I got in!” He cheered, tears in his eyes as he ran to his mother. The woman smiles and hugs her son, “My sweet Teruteru. I’m so proud of you!” She cheered as she smothered her son’s squishy face in kisses and affection.

September 2nd, the day Teruteru ran across the city of rubble with hot tears burning his face as he held his aching hand that is bleeding due to a cut. “Mama! Akari! Kei!” He calls out, eyes widen and filled with worry as he searches for his mother and siblings within the crazed city in destruction.

He looks around the gray clouds of smoke and smog the chaos created, he pauses seeing some silhouettes behind a broken car, silhouettes of two small figures. He quickly made his way over to see a pair of twin girls huddled together shaking with the smaller one with bruised knees. “Those eyes, are you two related to an Owari Akane?” He asked curious after looking at the two more, accepting their cower away as he understands their fear at the moment. The taller one of the two looks at him as she holds her sister close, “Yes and who the hell are you? How do you know Akane-Nii-San??” “I’m a classmate of hers. My goodness she’s worried sick…” He mumbled in response and quickly opened the bag on his back and handed the two a water bottle and a wrapped food item, “Go on eat this while I contact her.”

Teruteru openly accepted the stares he got from the oldest, willing to accept if they smack the food out his hands, so he was a bit surprised they took the items and instantly consumed them.

He was even more surprised with how thin they are…

The chef shook his head and pulled out his talking device and pressed the number four that connected to those on the West. “Message for Nigai San and Owari San, Message for Nigai San and Owari San,” He spoke formally, not bothering fixing his curly mess of hair that tangles with dust and sweat sticking to his forehead. After a few seconds, a woman’s voice answers back, “What is it Hanamura?” The second the girls heard her voice they teared up and crawled to Teruteru unafraid and yelled practically against his ears and the talkie, “Akane-Nii-San!!” “Eh?! Hanako?! Chiyo?!” “I found em by the library.” Teruteru butted in to ease the tears he heard in Akane’s voice. Maybe it works if she hears him as she usually gets mad? Was what he was thinking.

After the three talked with Akane more, the cook carried the girls on his back and held his bag of water and food on his front now as he starts making his way to the town’s convenience store where the kids claim five other siblings are hiding with some others who are trying to escape the madness of the world burning around them. The weight wasn’t that great on his back but he wasn’t focusing on himself right now, he was most worried about why these little ones were alone in such a place at such a time.

Before long, the flickering lights of a neon sign appeared past the thick air which increased the steps of Teruteru’s already sore feet as his lungs breathed in dryly the dense corrupt air. The glass sliding doors opened before he collapsed onto the ground.

“Ru… Teru… Teruteru!”

The young man’s eyes opened surprised as the voice booms into his mind, his vision blurry and stinging some from the lights above him.

Soon the blurs disappeared and he saw a familiar warm glow of a tired woman’s face with a messy tangled mess of dark brown hair with tears in her caramel eyes. Beside her head were two faces, thinner than her’s, with similar hair and eyes as her dressed in a formal attire that is torn and dirtied in several ways as they match the tearful face as the woman.

Teruteru’s chest tightens as his eyes widen, tears immediately flowing down his round flushed cheeks. He stares at the boy, “K-Kei…” He looked at the girl, “Akari…” He slowly looks at the woman, her smile melting his walls like lava on stone as he sobs brokenly with a soft wheeze, “M-Mama…”

The four huddled close with tight gripping hands as they all hugged each other, each one a sobbing mess as they did. It has been four years since he last saw his dear family, his heart just couldn’t take the idea of surviving a disgusting trick like the Killing Game only to hear his family weren’t with the living anymore, the tears and snot was proof of his feelings as his body shaking was even more evidence of his pain and joy seeing them safe and sound.

September 2nd, the day Teruteru snuggled close between two body heats with a happy him, face pressed against a firm chest of pectoral muscles and his back pressed against soft large breast as two sets of tanned muscular arms wrapped around his body. The two sleepers snores were light a little storm cloud for him with the male’s loud thunder of his throat and nose while the female’s was a more soft lightening rumbling purr from her chest.

He opened his eye slowly and tapped one hand of the two, “My loves, come on now, time to wake up.” He struggled to suppress his yawn as his neck cracked softly as he shifted. He was met with the response of Akane nuzzling her sleepy cute face into the back of his neck. “Oh come on cher…” He mumbled a bit louder, already knowing defeat being trapped in his lovers in a sandwich. Usually he’d be happy about this but right now not so much.

As he slowly closed his eyes to accept his fate, the bedroom door swung open and a lightening of red came rushing in before leaping high off the ground and making impact to the bed below. The three yelled in shock at the sudden Earthquake and stared surprised at the one and only Masaru sitting there with a big grin on his face, his blue space pajama’s wrinkled and a mess as his bed head is still obvious. “HAPPY BIRTHDAY POPS!”

After getting over the shock, Teruteru slowly smiled. Oh such joy the boy who they took in not long ago was wishing him a birthday celebration even if it started his heart.

“Hey Masaru, you almost gave us a heart attack!” Cried Akane as she sits up, her new found “mom voice” as everyone calls it in full swing. The red head only cackled and crawled forward and grabbed hold of Teruteru’s hands as he cheered, “Come on pops let’s make you some awesome pancakes! Birthday pancakes~ Birthday pancakes~!” Such energy, a real special one this boy is… Teruteru thought with a smile.

#danganronpa #teruteru hanamura #akane x teruteru #teruteru x nekomaru #teruteru x akane x nekomaru #masaru daimon

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inkygames · 3 years

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we went on a lil art gallery date n made some cute paintings!! ♡

dabi mod

#CLARI'S THO #LMAO #THOSE SICK STICK FIGURES EH #a true artist #dabi's is SO cute tho #so so so cute #i love him im so mad #clari n dabi live life #dabi v.3

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confused-stars · 3 years

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hawksweek2020 - Day 3: Crossover

@hawksweek2020 ___ Phoenix Drifting (or: it’s Pacific Rim time, my dudes) „I just don’t think this is a good idea.” Toshinori Yagi looked tired. That was really the only adjective needed to describe the man, and maybe the only one that was appropriate. Gone was the hero millions of people had watched on tv and cheered on. There was only this skeleton of a man who looked like a stiff breeze could knock him over. “How will we know if we don’t give it a try?” said Keigo’s handler, calm and rational as always. Yagi just shook his head with a long, drawn-out sigh. “I’ve drifted with Enji enough times to know what he’s like. And I can only assume it would be even more difficult now, after…” He trailed off, but no one in the room actually needed him to finish the sentence. “Assigning him a new recruit as a partner, and someone he’s never even met?”

But they had met, Keigo almost wanted to protest. He bit his tongue on the basis that there was no way Enji Todoroki would ever even remember the tiny brat he’d saved that day. Or that he’d recognize the young man he’d grown into. “The alternative would be him drifting with his son, you are aware of that?” the commission president pointed out, one perfectly shaped brow raised. Keigo sometimes wondered when she found time to do that. The world was sort of ending every couple weeks, and yet there were people who would just… sit down and have their eyebrows plucked. “Natsuo is a medic. He’s not a pilot,” Kayama said from where she was leaning forward on crossed arms, a tiny crease between her eyes. Keigo’s handler paused. “Oh, no. I’m talking about Shouto.” “Absolutely not.” It was the first time Aizawa had spoken since they’d opened this discussion. Keigo had been sure the man had dozed off at some point, but apparently, he’d been listening the entire time. Stupid, of course he had been. Never underestimate people, especially those that you know are skilled. “We’re not putting a kid in a Jaeger. He’d be ready, skill-wise, but he’s still a teenager.” “Todoroki specifically requested for his son to be partnered up with him,” the president said, unmoved. “He’s been training for this purpose alone. If Takami doesn’t work out, Shouto would be our fallback plan.” Aizawa’s glare was terrifying enough that Keigo wouldn’t have been surprised if someone was about to drop dead. “Takami’s barely more than a kid himself!” He gestured at Keigo, who couldn’t help but straighten up, making a low noise of offense in his throat. “I’m old enough to fight! I’m old enough to drift. My simulator scores are better than All Might’s ever were. I’m ready.” Aizawa scoffed. “Simulator scores hold nothing against a real fight, kid.” Though his glare wasn’t as prominent looking directly at Keigo. Seemed like his anger was directed at the commission. Which, understandable and Keigo could relate. But they knew what they were doing. He’d been trained for only this since he’d been a tiny kid. He knew he could do this. “They might not even be compatible,” Yagi said, almost placating, “Maybe we’re arguing for nothing. You know what Enji is like. Him and Takami don’t seem like a very good matchup at first glance.” “Enji wasn’t a good matchup with Touya, either, but he pushed through anyway. And look what happened,” Aizawa replied darkly. There was a ripple of tension, and then the dark-haired pilot stood from his chair. “It’s not like we can stop you from doing what you want anyway. I’m just putting it on the record that I was against this.” He paused. “No offense, kid.” And stalked off. Keigo didn’t… think he was offended. Was he?

__ The thing was, despite spending the majority of his life training to be the perfect Jaeger pilot, despite having honed his reflexes and his tactical thinking and his ability to make split-second decisions, Keigo had never actually seen a Jaeger up close. When he’d been saved by Enji Todoroki – callsign “Endeavor” – as a child, that had been before the Jaeger program had really been a thing. Or at least not in the public eye. No, Enji Todoroki had been a special ops agent at the time he’d blown the criminal operation Keigo’s parents had been a part of, and his fame had only come about a year later when the first Jaeger – Golden Inferno – had been revealed. Keigo had known from that moment on that he wanted to be a pilot, and he’d worked hard to get to his goal, until he’d been picked up by the commission’s scouts when he’d been eight years old.

So, no experience with real Jaegers. Only the training facility and the simulations. He really, really couldn’t be blamed for sneaking up onto the walkway to take a look. Surely with all the young recruits living here, this was something that happened regularly. Why shouldn’t Keigo be allowed to do the same? He was about to step into one of these soon enough, if he proved to be compatible with Endeavor. There was currently only one active Jaeger in this Shatterdome, along with two more being kept ready for pilots. They desperately needed another team out there to help against the kaiju attacks that had just been stacking up, and that was why Keigo was here. He felt… kind of inadequate for the task next to the Jaegers though. They were so much bigger than he’d been able to even imagine. Even stood on the walkway, at eye level, Keigo was suddenly and entirely aware of how tiny he was. How tiny he was compared to one of the kaiju, too. Actually piloting a Jaeger had to be quite something if it made you feel strong enough to take on those monsters. “Do you have authorization to be here?” That voice… Keigo turned his head with an easy smile, and threw a lazy salute at the man who technically outranked him. For now. And, hey, even if they teamed up, Endeavor would always have seniority over him. “No, sir, but that’ll change come tomorrow,” he chirped, dropping his hand again. Endeavor was frowning at him, but as far as Keigo could tell, he was always frowning. “… Takami, right?” Keigo nodded, wondering if Endeavor remembered his parents at all, or if that had just been one case in a long line of forgettable ones. If he did remember, Endeavor wasn’t showing any signs of it. Instead, he stepped up beside Keigo, leaning his arms onto the railing of the walkway as he peered up at the Jaeger in front of them. This one was a newer model, the finishing touches were still being worked out, and the colors were muted and grey. Keigo thought she would look beautiful in red and gold. “Do you trust yourself to handle her?” Endeavor asked after a moment. Blunt and to the point. Keigo kind of appreciated that. “I’m a quick learner, and a great pilot,” he replied, “And I’ll have an experienced partner to show me the ropes.” Endeavor turned his steely eyes on him. “I’m not here to pick up your slack.” Keigo raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Oh, I promise you won’t have to! I know what’s at stake here, and I’m ready.” That got him a nod. Endeavor turned back to the Jaeger. “… she has booster jets on her back, and she was built lighter than any previous models. She’ll be the first Jaeger with the ability to fly.” Keigo had heard that much. He knew it’d be more of a hover, but that they were working on full flight and would be modifying her when there were no immediate fights to be won. He leaned his elbow on the railing and rested his head on his palm. “Got any name ideas yet?” Endeavor was silent for a while. Maybe he didn’t care for frivolous things like names. He seemed entirely stoic, just like on tv, and in the one memory Keigo had of meeting him. “… Phoenix,” Endeavor finally said, voice quiet but still clearly audible in the relative quiet of the hangar this late. “I…” Keigo loved it. It was perfect. He could already imagine the accents of red in an almost feather like pattern, and the Jaeger had flames, too, because it had been built with Endeavor’s preferred fighting style in mind. “… Rising Phoenix?” he suggested. He could feel Endeavor’s eyes on his face, scrutinizing, but he was too busy staring up at their baby. “… if you can keep up with me in the drift, we can name her that.” “Oh, them be fightin’ words,” Keigo murmured, and he couldn’t help but smirk. __ Their compatibility was evaluated within a single fight the next day. As soon as Keigo went in for his first blow, he could almost physically sense something connecting them. As fast as he was, Endeavor blocked every single one of his attacks as if he’d known exactly where Keigo was going to move. And in turn, Keigo managed to dodge every one of his opponent’s slower, more forceful blows. It wasn’t like sparring with other recruits, or with his trainers. It was… lighter, like his mind didn’t have to be constantly running, his thoughts fading to a pleasant humming in the background. When they parted, Endeavor was smiling. Keigo returned his expression. And they were deemed ready to drift only an hour after that.

__ They had an audience, Keigo knew. Everyone was anticipating a successful drift, and everyone was worried what would happen if it didn’t work out. No pressure. Keigo felt good about this, about himself. They could do this. Right? It didn’t matter that Endeavor had so many years on him, that he’d lived through what had happened to his first and second co-pilot, that their traumatic memories were probably about to mix up and create an incredibly explosive cocktail… Keigo took a breath and exhaled slowly. He needed to focus on his surroundings. The feeling of the suit against his skin, the lights of the cockpit, the voices in his ear. “Takami.” Keigo jerked his head over towards Endeavor, who was standing calm and seemingly ready for the challenge ahead. “Yeah?” Endeavor frowned at him. “Don’t think too much. It’ll only distract me.” “Roger that,” Keigo murmured. Because that was so easy. Damn, what if this didn’t go right? Then they would lose so much more time trying to find a suitable copilot for Endeavor, and one for Keigo, too. This needed to work. It had to. “Initiating neural handshake,” said a voice that Keigo was too nervous to assign to any one of the people he’d just met yesterday. “3…2…1.” He was standing over an empty hospital bed, the sheets still mussed up from the body that had been in it only minutes ago. “It was my fault,” he murmured, fists clenched at his sides. A hand touched his shoulder. “Enji…” He whipped around and glared down at Rei, and she shrunk back from the look on his face. He was twelve years old and had just broken a bone for the first time. He lay on the mat in the training hall, trying desperately not to cry as he clutched his arm. “We’re not finished, Hawks,” said the trainer coolly, “You won’t be able to take breaks when you’re in a Jaeger. You’ll have to keep fighting with broken bones. Now, get up and use your other arm.” He was holding onto a gun, heavy and comforting in his hands, and leading his men down a darkened corridor. He was in his bedroom with his father sneering down at him. “I know you’ve been stealing from me, little brat. Using my own teachings against me, are you?” He gave his men a hand sign to swarm out as he pushed through the next door on his own. He cowered from his father’s wrath, tiny body shaking. “N-no! No, I haven’t! I haven’t!” He’d taken food, but that wasn’t… he’d needed it so bad… he’d been so hungry… “D-Dad, please, I promise, please don’t-“ “Dad, please!” Touya was backing away from him with tears in his eyes and bruises on his face. “I’m tired, it hurts. Can we stop now? Can we please stop?” “Don’t hurt me!” “You promised we could stop if I did well in this one!” “… losing connection…” “… unstable…” “… rabbit…” Touya went up in flames before his very eyes, the entire cockpit was on fire, and he was burning, too, but he didn’t even feel it in his desperate attempt to rip himself away from the controls and get to his son. “Dad!” The door to his bedroom was kicked open, splinters of wood sent flying as a broad man dressed in black pushed his way inside. “Step away from the child.” He looked down at the little boy curled up on the ground, trying to make himself small. God, he looked so much like Touya like this, so scared. Enji looked back up at the man he’d come here for. At Takami. Keigo looked up at his savior, at the gun in his hands. He scrambled to his feet and hit behind the stranger’s legs, clinging to him as if he was bound to disappear any moment. Enji’s grip on the gun was unwavering. “Don’t let him hurt me… please don’t let him,” Keigo whimpered. “I won’t,” Enji replied. Keigo held on tighter. “… stabilizing…” “… fuck, that was close.” The vividness of the memory began to fade, only bits and pieces fluttering through their joined minds now. Seeing the man who had saved him on tv. Forming the word ‘Endeavor’ on his lips for the first time, in awe. Shouto, two years old, putting another block on his tower and clapping his hands. Walking into his new home at the Commission headquarters for the first time. Being given his uniform. Toshinori smiling at him at they stood in front of ‘Golden Inferno’ together for the first time. Toshinori on the floor and coughing up blood. His mom yelling at his dad’s friends, pointing a gun at whichever one moved closer to her. Holding Rei’s hand in the park. Passing his first piloting test with flying colors. Fuyumi’s awe as she saw his Jaeger the first time. The name ‘Hawks’ given to him by another recruit. Burn scars running along his body, but none hurt as bad as knowing Touya was gone. Pickpocketing strangers on the street and trying to buy food with the money before he was expected back. Giving Natsuo a piggyback ride. Shooting a gun in the training range. Facing down a kaiju with his partner at his side. Keigo raised his hand. Enji did the same. They brought their fists together. “Neural handshake initiated.” The memories stopped. The connection flowed freely between them, almost like a lazy stream of consciousness. Keigo gave Enji a playful, mental nudge. Enji huffed on his side of the cockpit. “Let’s show these kaiju who’s boss, eh?” Keigo asked, both with his mind and out loud. He could feel determination, and amusement, and relief. “I’ll show you how it’s done.” Hawks, Enji thought, I won’t let you down. Keigo… Hawks smiled and leaned into their connection, allowing himself to feel the exhilaration of it all. “We’re gonna kick some ass.” He mimicked an explosion with his fist, and Rising Phoenix did the same.

#bnha #hawksweek2020 #jaeger pilot keigo!!!#let's gooo #i could write 30k of this probably #there's also a bunch of other interesting stuff that's less keigo centric obvs #also in this it's actually afo creating the kaiju #is this more of an au than a crossover? probably #catch me never actually sticking close to the prompts #but i needed to write this like i needed air #the other option wouldve been a his dark materials crossover but those are hard to write focused on just one character #also i didnt know what to write for the test fight that hasn't been done a million times already #so i just rushed through it #but eh im sick rn and i just wanted to finish this on time so i can go lie down now #child abuse tw #it's definitely very strongly insinuated so tagging it #i dont know what im doing with endeavor here ive literally never written him as a sympathetic figure before???

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jxsatlas · 3 years

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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍 ⇢ keith kogane, ch. 1

keith kogane x gn! reader – next

DISCLAIMER! this story does not originally belong to me, the author is @MaddieWolf37 on Wattpad. i have simply received permission to rewrite and continue her story. go and check out her profile for the original version!

SYNOPSIS! a story in which you are thrown into the middle of an intergalactic space war and have the undesirable weight of being a symbol of peace dropped on your shoulders. but maybe if you look past the constant danger and endless fighting, there's some good to being a paladin of voltron.

MATURE CONTENT! swearing, violence, gore, war, graphic descriptions, mentions of self-harm

"Galaxy Garrison flight log 5-11-14," Lance announces, "Begin descent to Kerberos for a rescue mission."

He shoves the yoke forward and the aircraft takes a steep dive. You plant your feet to help fight against the inertia. You give him a sharp glare as the aircraft steadies out.

"Ugh, Lance, can you keep this thing straight?" Hunk whines from the back.

You look over your shoulder and recognise the nauseated expression on his face all too well. Last semester, there was a girl on your team that didn't do too well with excessive motion and often got sick.

Lance brushes him off. "Relax Hunk, I'm just getting a feel for the stick," he says with a lazy grin, which quickly turns mischievous. "It's not like I did this, or this!" Lance jerks the aircraft side to side, making Hunk feel worse.

"Knock it off, Lance," you warn from your chair next to him. You reach up above you and press a few buttons in hopes of stabilising the aircraft out after Lance's little joke.

"Yeah, listen to [y/n] unless you wanna wipe beef stroganoff out of all the little nooks and crannies of this thing," Hunk groans angrily.

"We've picked up a distress signal!" Pidge says from his seat in the back.

"Alright, time to quit our bickering and get serious," you say, doing your own little thing to accommodate for the lower altitude while Lance flies the aircraft.

"Pidge, track the coordinates," Lance says with a roll of his eyes at your comment.

Pidge does so, typing away on the computer. The aircraft gives a large rumble and Hunk groans again.

"Knock it off, Lance! Please!" he whines, his face all scrunched up in discomfort.

"Oh, that's on you buddy," Lance says sharply. "We got a hydraulic stabiliser out."

Hunk nods and goes to fix it, but when the aircraft shakes again he gags. "Oh no."

"Oh no, fix now, puke later," Lance growls.

So much bickering... you think to yourself with a sigh.

"I lost contact!" Pidge says. "The shaking is interfering with our sensors."

Lance looks over his shoulder at Hunk. "Come on, dude!"

"Sorry, it's not responding," Hunk says and unfastens his safety belt. He carefully gets up and makes his way over to the gearbox to see what's up.

"Coordinates are back," you say, seeing the blue dot on the dash.

"Nevermind Hunk," Lance says.

"No, he still needs to fix it," you say. "We can't properly fly this thing if a hydraulic stabiliser is out."

"Whatever," Lance rolls his eyes, "Preparing for approach on visual."

"I don't think that's advisable, given our current mechanical..." Pidge warns, trailing off when he hears Hunk gag again. "...and gastrointestinal issues..."

"Agreed!" Hunk says, not before quickly emptying his stomach into the gearbox with the unsavoury sounds of food chunks and liquid hitting the metal. You cringe, not liking the sound, and hope he's okay.

"Stop worrying," Lance says dismissively.

"No, they're right," you say firmly as you place your attention on Lance now. "We should wait before we do anything."

"Nah, this baby can take it! Can't ya champ?" Lance coos and pats the dash. The aircraft rumbles again and he retracts his hand with a sheepish look. "See? She was nodding!"

"That wasn't nodding Lance," you deadpan. "Now listen to us and wait."

"I'm the one flying this thing, aren't I?" Lance asks. "So I'm in charge, and that means what I say goes!"

"Excuse you, we're both flying this thing," you argue.

Ignoring you, Lance turns to Pidge. "Pidge, hail down on them and let them know their ride is here," he says.

Knowing that you're now doomed, you keep your mouth shut and wait for the inevitable failure of the simulation. You can already see it, the big, bold, red letters appearing on the dash.

And when Lance flies towards an overhang, tilting the plane as much as he can in a sad attempt to thread through the little hole rather than going over or around, you know this is where you fail.

Lance doesn't make it. The wing gets torn off, the alarms blare, and the aircraft pummels to the ground. The dash goes black and those red letters you were anticipating appear without hesitation.

Simulation Failed.

The first failure on your school record.

You toss your head back and sharply exhale, frustration building up in you. "Nice going," you grumble and look at Lance through the corner of your eye.

He catches your gaze and glares at you. "Oh, shut up," he growls.

The four of you sit in silence for a second, you and Lance glaring at each other, before an instructor opens the door and beckons you to come out.

Reluctantly, you all unfasten your safety belts and crawl out of the aircraft. You then mentally prepare yourselves for the lecture about how you are all failures to come.

You, Lance, Hunk, and Pidge line up before the Commander, avoiding his scowling gaze.

"Let's see if we can't use this complete failure as a lesson for the rest of you," Commander Iverson's voice booms angrily. He's not at all impressed with your behaviour. "Can anyone point out the mistakes these so-called cadets made during the simulator?"

"The engineer puked in the main gearbox!" a boy from the back of the group of students shouts out. Iverson nods and turns to Hunk.

"Yes. Everyone knows vomit is not an approved lubricant for engine systems," Iverson sharply criticises Hunk. He turns back to the students. "What else?"

"The comms-spec removed his safety harness," a girl points out.

"The pilot crashed!" another shouts.

Iverson nods, approving of all the answers given. "And worst of all, the whole jump they're arguing with each other," he growls and turns to the four of you once more.

You keep your gaze on the ground shamefully.

"The Galaxy Garrison exists to turn young cadets like you into the next generation of elite astro-explorers," Iverson lectures. His hands are on his hips as he looks down at you. "But these kinds of mental mistakes are exactly what caused the lives of the men on the Kerberos Mission."

In your peripherals, you notice Pidge clench his fists at his sides and scrunch his nose up in anger. You fully turn your head to him when he takes a bold step towards the Commander.

"That's not true, sir!" he barks.

Iverson looks at him and glares. "What was that, young man?" he growls.

Lance quickly slaps a hand over Pidge's mouth and pulls him back in line. "Sorry, sir! He must've hit his head when he fell!" he says, smiling sheepishly in a sad attempt to cover up his fear. His hand gets tighter over Pidge's mouth, almost as if he's asking the ginger what the hell is wrong with him.

With Lance speaking up, Iverson's attention is now pinpointed on him. He takes a few steps closer to Lance, his intimidating figure making your brother cower back a bit.

"I hope I don't need to remind you that the only reason you're here," he growls, his tone of voice menacing and powerful, "is because the best pilot in your class had a disciplinary issue and flunked out."

Lance drops his gaze down to the floor, a look of dejection taking over his face.

"Don't follow in his footsteps," Iverson warns. He stares Lance down a bit before abruptly turning to you. "And you!" he barks.

Your entire body freezes up and your eyes wearily follow him as he stops in front of you now. Your heart sinks down to your gut.

"I expected better of you."

﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋

You returned to your dorm at the end of the day with a cloud over your head.

You grumble about the day's events as you aggressively tug your shirt over your head. You really wish you could pinpoint the source of your frustration. Are you mad at my brother? Your team? Or yourself?

You toss your clothes on the floor and pull out some track shorts and a hoodie from your dresser. Getting dressed in your pajamas for the rest of the night, you try to sort out your emotions.

"Stop mumbling to yourself," your roommate says from her bed.

You turn to her. "Ah, sorry," you say. "I didn't realise I was talking out loud..."

"If you're that mad at your brother why don't you just punch him?" she asks. You blink, surprised she actually heard you.

"I'm not violent like you," you say with a sigh. "Besides, I don't even know if I'm mad at him specifically."

"Eh, I would punch him either way," your roommate shrugs. "It's a good way to alleviate your stress."

You roll your eyes. "I alleviate my stress by sleeping."

Your roommate laughs. "Ain't that the truth?" she jests. "How many times have you taken a nap between classes this week?"

You stare at her with a blank expression for a moment before picking your clothes up and off of the ground. "I'm not answering that," you say and toss them into the hamper.

You and your roommate pause when there's a knock on the door. You look at her and she looks at you.

She raises her hands up. "And I'm not answering that," she says.

You roll your eyes and grab one of the dirty articles of clothing you tossed into the hamper and throw at her without any remorse. She yelps in fear and disgust as you walk to the door with a smirk on your face.

"Don't throw your nasty underwear at me!" she barks and she pinches the panties between her thumb and index finger, tossing them as far away from her as possible.

You cackle and open the door. Your laughter cuts short when you're suddenly face to face with your brother. Hunk stands behind him.

"What are you doing in the girls' dorm?" you ask, but then take the opportunity you just created for yourself to tease your dear elder brother. You think of it as a bit of revenge for crashing the simulator. "Visiting someone?"

Lance rolls his eyes. "Heh, I wish," he sighs. "But no. We're thinking about hitting the town tonight! You know, for some team bonding?"

"Who is it?" your roommate calls to you.

"Lance and Hunk," you say over your shoulder at her.

"Punch him!" she shouts back.

"No!" you hiss and turn back to your brother.

"I don't like your roommate," Lance comments under his breath.

"Neither do I," you joke.

"I heard that!" your roommate barks.

"No you didn't!" you ready. But getting the feeling that she's going to keep interrupting, you push Lance out of your way and step into the hall with him and Hunk. You then close the door and give the boys your full attention.

"So, you're gonna come with us?" Lance asks.

"I don't know," you say with uncertainty in your tone. You cross your arms. "It's past curfew and I don't really think you have off-campus privileges..."

"That doesn't matter," Lance waves his hand dismissively. "Iverson wants us to bond as a team, so why don't we listen to him for once?"

"I'm not feeling that adventurous," you say.

"What? Why not? It'll be fun!" Lance cajoles.

"Lance, your idea of fun always ends up with you and me in the principal's office," Hunk reminds. "Don't drag your little sibling into it."

"Hunk has a point," you say. "I don't want to get in trouble again. I had my filling for today."

"Since when were you a goodie-two-shoes?" Lance asks in a somewhat offended tone.

"Since I got a scholarship here?" you quirk an eyebrow at him.

"Who are you and what have you done with my sibling?" Lance says as he gives you a look of utter betrayal, as if you were some alien.

You roll your eyes. "I'm not too keen on losing something like that because I went along with your dumb shenanigans," you sigh.

"Please, the max punishment for something like this is just a weekend detention with old man Brechin," Lance says and a mischievous grin spreads on his face. "That is, if you get caught."

You bite your lip, looking away in thought. Team bonding sounds very appealing after what happened today, but are you willing to risk your scholarship? You don't know if you can lose it because of a simple detention. The Galaxy Garrison is a government program, which means they are pretty strict.

"Do you really need to think about it?" Lance asks with raised eyebrows. "Don't tell me you're scared!"

His words irk you immensely.

You snap your gaze up to him. Is he serious? You aren't scared. Why would you be scared of sneaking out?

You silently walk back into your dorm and quickly throw a bra on, some socks, and your shoes.

"Where are you going?" your roommate asks as she watches you scramble about the room with a sense of purpose all of a sudden.

"Team bonding," you say, now tying the laces of your shoes.

"This late? Are you sure?" she asks.

"All common sense in me left the moment Lance basically called me a scaredy-cat," you say bluntly.

"Well, have fun," your roommate says.

You give her a small salute as you walk out of the dorm. "I'll be back by morning."

"Alright, see ya!"

You close the door and turn to Lance and Hunk expectantly. "Well?"

Lance gives you a cocky grin, proud of his persuasion skills. You suddenly consider your roommate's suggestion for a second.

"We need to go grab Pidge," Lance says. "It won't be team bonding if someone's missing. You gotta have everybody."

You shrug, doubting Pidge will join.

Lance takes the liberty of leading the way to the boys' dorm, you and Hunk following closely behind. You expertly dodge the officers patrolling the halls making sure students are in their dorms like ninjas on a stealth mission.

As Lance rounds a corner, he suddenly stops and back peddles quickly. He peeks around the corner and watches whatever is on the other side. Curious, you and Hunk sneak up close to Lance and peek as well.

Pidge steps out of his room, a backpack swung over his shoulders. He checks his surroundings before closing the door and running off.

You, Lance, and Hunk share a look. You all then telepathically agree to follow the small boy. Once again, Lance takes the lead.

#voltron #wattpad #keith #voltron keith #keith kogane #x reader #keith x reader #gender neutral reader #vld #vld fanfic #fanfiction #vld keith

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littleonebub · 2 years

Text

Serendipitous New Beginnings

Everly moves to America for a year for a much needed break. Little does she know she signed up for more than she bargained for.

Pairings: Syverson x Everly Rakena (Asian OFC)

Warnings: smut in future parts

A/N: Hello! Welcome to my first ever fanfic ☺️ please be kind. Also bear with me as I try figure out how to post and include things!

Word count: 1900

I would like to thank @jessinchains for giving me the courage to post this! All my love to you, boo! 😘

Not beta'd. All mistakes are my own

Just a note; I deleted the post and reposted to fix some thangsss.

Disclaimer: I do not own Sandcastle nor our Captain Syverson though I wish I did 🙃

Big thanks to @firefly-graphics for the beautiful dividers!

Please don't copy or steal my work.

Taglist: @jessinchains @rmtndew @lunaschild2016 @offroadinjandals @kingliam2019 @lizausten29

Everly POV

“What the hell are you doing here, missy!?”

“Oh my god, it’s Evie!!”

I get bombarded with a chorus of yelling and excitement as I catch the nearest human body throwing themselves on me for a hug.

Who knew a dental clinic would experience this much excitement at eight in the morning on a Monday? What a welcome, I tell you.

“Hey, guys”, I say to everyone as I squeeze my girl, Shayla for a hug.

“What in the name of the lord has your ass here on your goddamn day off?” I get sass from none other than the Sass Queen herself, Lea. She stares me down with her eyebrow raised giving me the look of her life.

“Lydia isn’t well; I've offered to cover for her”

“And by sick you mean hungover?”

A few of the girl’s snickered, some rolled their eyes. Unfortunately they weren’t the biggest fan of her.

I shrug, “it is what it is, eh. Now you lucky ladies are stuck with me”

I’d been out with the girl’s late last night and into the early morning. Today was going to be a long as day.

The morning went stupid quick, I swear in a blink of an eye it was lunch time already.

With four dentists and eight receptionists/dental assistants not to mention patients, the place was hectic. Girl’s running from reception to surgery to the sterilisation room there was never a quiet moment. All four phone lines were either going off at the same time or at least three were engaged.

We’d be lucky to have everyone running on time (inclusive of patients themselves) let alone a miracle.

Dr Lauren and Casey in surgery one weren’t doing too hot; 15 mins over and I need to go and check. The next patient isn’t looking too happy.

I go and softly knock on the door and stick my head in

“Code please?”

Casey looks up, her eyebrows furrowed, her green eyes focusing hard. They’re in the middle of what was meant to be a straightforward tooth extraction. I look at the bracket table and I can see practically nearly every instrument from the surgical drawer sitting there. Lauren doesn’t even glance at me, she’s too busy trying to get the damn thing out.

“…C plus”

C plus… not good. That’s 15 mins or more.

I go back to let the patient know but they’re already on their way out; they couldn’t wait.

Lea looks at me from the desk. We’re both in pencil skirts and heels, our feet already aching from running around like headless chickens all morning.

“How bad?”

“15 mins or more”

Lea sighs, takes her glasses off, and starts rubbing her face. The phone calls were non-stop and the mountain of dirty instruments endless. The steriliser working overtime getting these instruments through.

“At this rate those two are gonna work through their lunch”, her face is pinched as she looks at the schedule

“I know”, I answer softly as I take a seat beside her behind the desk

We were the last four left, everyone else had gone on lunch. Monday is our late night, we’re open till nine pm. Today was gonna be a long one for sure.

“I’ll call the next ones and let them know. Maybe they’d wanna reschedule or would be happy to wait or come later”, she tells me as she picks up the phone and starts dialling their number.

Sy POV

After half an hour grand momma’s appointment is done. I’m sitting waiting in the reception area my elbows on my thighs, my head resting in my hands as I hear heels clicking against the floorboards as they come out. I was expecting only to see my grandparents but one of the girl’s working here was with them. She must be new ‘cause I don’t recognize her.

She was sweet you could tell by how she held my gran’s arm with one hand & another on her back as she helped her along down the hall and back into reception. She was always making sure gran was alright. Poppa was right behind them with a watchful eye.

The girl was short and looked to be in her early 20’s maybe. She had on a black pencil skirt with a white long sleeved button up blouse tucked in wearing pink half-rimmed cat eyed glasses. Cute. She had long black hair that faded into gray tied up in a high ponytail. Is that the trend these days? You could tell she wasn’t from around here, she stuck out like a sore thumb.

They stop in front of the desk, my grand momma’s arm linked through hers as she ushers me over, a twinkle in her eye.

I get up and grab the bouquet of flowers I bought as I slowly walk on over.

“Now honey this is the sweet girl I’ve been telling you about, Ms. Everly”, gran says with a big smile. “Ms. Everly this is my dear grandson, Jax”

“Oh hello, it’s nice to meet you”, she says to me, a smile spreading across her face as she reaches out to shake my hand. I couldn’t put my finger on her accent. I’d never heard nothin’ like it before.

“The pleasure is mine, but only my grandparents call me Jax, feel free to call me Sy”, I shake her hand. It’s soft, warm, and absolutely tiny in mine but her handshake was firm, sure.

I get a better look up close, and I was 100% right. I towered over her small stature.

She was petite even with stiletto heels. I couldn’t imagine how short she’d actually be without them on.

She had big, round, warm, chocolate eyes, a button nose, and full rosy lips. Her big smile reached her eyes and made them shine. Her round baby face made her look real young.

She had a beautiful natural olive complexion, not one artificially achieved from a bottle.

She was of Asian descent, but what ethnicity I couldn’t tell ya.

“Now my grand momma here told me what you did for them when I was deployed, and I wanted to thank you,” I offer up the bouquet when a look of surprise spreads across her face.

“You were in the middle of work and drove them all the way home when Poppa wasn’t feelin’ too hot, and it ain’t a short drive. So thank you for lookin’ after them. I appreciate it”, I tell her.

Everly lightly shakes her head, “Oh, no need to thank me. I couldn’t let them Uber home Though I think your grandfather would’ve preferred it”

Poppa laughs, throwing his head back.

“I ain’t ever seen nobody drive a stick that bad”

They all laugh, Everly grinning while scratching her head.

“I think if anything your Granddaddy felt worse after my driving”, she cringes a bit, but there’s humour in her eyes, “I reckon if he knew back then what he knew now he would’ve just risked taking an Uber and picked up his ute another day”

“A ute? What in the name of the lord”, I must’ve looked confused as heck because she laughs again

“My bad, I forget it’s called a truck here”, she grins sheepishly.

“But you know Jax, Ms. Everly here came right back the next day to see if your granddaddy was alright”, my grand momma points out, “now that’s some special care I tell ya” my Poppa nods in agreement.

“Oh, it’s okay it was my pleasure plus I got to see Turbo again which was a bonus”, Everly says as she holds the flowers close to her chest.

My Poppa had teeth out a while back and wasn’t feelin’ the best after; the local anaesthetic didn’t agree with him. Gran was with him but she doesn’t know how to drive so for Everly to have driven them the 45 minutes home in that massive truck, and then Uber back meant a lot to me. And to have even checked on him the day after was somethin’ else.

I could already tell my Gran and Poppa was fond of her.

Poppa was a fan, and that man didn’t like many people. He was usually a quiet man, a man of few words but around her there was a shine in his ol’ eyes.

“Still it means a lot to me you looked out for them, I can’t thank ya enough”, I tell her giving her a smile.

“Any time, and thanks for the flowers. They’re gorgeous”, she smiles and looks down admirin’ them.

Before I can say anythin’ else the phone rings and the other receptionist calls Everly over.

“Sorry to interrupt.. Evie, it’s perio”, she says as she covers the mouth of the receiver.

“Excuse me”, Everly says before she goes and takes the phone

“Hey.. yeah I’m free… Is it complicated? How many implants? Bone grafting? Sinus lift?” She looks down, concentrating, “yeah nah, all good I’ll be there soon”, and she hangs up. The other receptionist isn’t lookin’ too happy.

“Evie, you need to have lunch”, she’s frowning.

“I’m all good, I’ll eat after I promise. Plus it’s a straightforward single implant. Should be fast”, Everly gives her a small smile, hand on her back, trying to reassure her.

“Well off you go then but you’re taking a break straight after, missy”, she points a finger at her, driving the message home not to mess with her, “gimme those flowers, I’ll put them in water for you”

Everly hands her the flowers and gives her a quick hug and kiss on the cheek.

“Thanks, Lea”

She comes back to us, the expression on her face apologetic.

“I’m sorry I have to go but it was nice seeing you guys again, and it was nice meeting you too Sy” she gives gran and Poppa a hug and shakes my hand again.

“It was real nice meetin’ you too”, I say as I let her hand go. For some reason this time I didn’t wanna.

And then she’s off runnin’ even in those goddamn heels. She seems like a busy bee in this place.

We go to pay and Gran must’ve read my mind ‘cause she says the same thing to Lea.

“She always runnin’ around like a headless chicken?”

“Yeah” Lea grimaces. “She’s always tryna look after everyone in this place. One of the girls went home sick in perio, they’re a man down and need help. Since Evie has experience in that specialty they always ask her for help, and she’s never one to say no”.

Poppa doesn’t look thrilled to find that out.

“Always knew she had a kind heart, almost too kind. Make sure they don’t run her ragged, ya hear?”

“Oh yes sir, I will. I try look out for her as much as I can but she’s about as stubborn as a mule”.

We all laugh at that.

“Oh really? We didn’t notice” my grand momma says, winking at her.

We book in gran’s six monthly clean, and head on home.

The image of Everly still lingering in my mind.

#henry cavill #captain syverson #asian oc #henry cavill fanfic #captain syverson x ofc #fanfic

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bitchwhoreofastorm · 3 years

Text

[based on a headcanon by @nemenalya ]

The boy with no name has died. A stiff wind's blown over High Hrothgar and swept him right off the edge of the cliff.

The other students are alerted by the screaming. The boy with no name's only friend in the world, a shy little lad who's been here only a year, stands by the cliff and screams and screams and screams. Since nothing fun ever happens in High Hrothgar the others are quick to gather around the normally-unpopular child. He's screeching something that goes beyond language, pointing frantically at the cliff and wailing bloody grief all the way to Sovngarde, and he keeps on screaming while his cohort gathers curiously around him.

There is a minute, a single minute, where all the students of Hrothgar stand around, and nobody says a word but for the lad who's screaming. There's a rule on High Hrothgar that speaking is strictly forbidden-- never adhered to, of course, except when Custodian Lundga is around-- but the boy is making such a racket that, after said minute and by unspoken consensus, it is agreed upon that the silence has already been broken. So, excited for a change of pace, they all together immediately start chattering, in loud voices to be heard above the wind and the screaming, of course.

"Why is he shouting?" asks Nhemakhela of Winterhold. "Are you alright?"

"You should slap him!" urges Telmo of the Reach.

"Why should I?"

"Make him shut up."

"My gods!" shouts Hoag of Morrowind, who's gone and lied down on his belly at the place where the rock opens into sky. His head hangs over the edge of the cliff, his thick black hair being tossed moppishly around his head. "Someone's dead down there!"

And at once every student of Hrothgar is on their bellies peeking over the side of the cliff.

"Gods!" cries Nhemakhela. "Is he alive?"

"With his neck at that angle?" asks Telmo.

With a sort of retching sound, Chemua of Morrowind, Hoag's sensitive second-hand, hauls himself off of the ice and staggers away.

"Do we go down?" asks Telmo.

"I call dibs on the corpse."

"Eeew."

"What was his name?"

"He was the mute one, ent got no name."

"Nay, he had a little friend, though. He'd know the name."

"Well? Bhag? What was his name? Bhag, quit screaming! What was his name? Bhag...?"

The conversation ends there, unfortunately, because Lundga Custodian of Hrothgar arrives with a large stick in hand and a mind to crack every noisy Tongue that's broken the mountain's vow of holy silence. Sensible woman, she tells them to leave the body where it is, she has Nhemakhela slap some sense into Bhag, she makes Chemua scoop up the sick off her nice white snow, she sends everyone scurrying off to go meditate on this experience. And she smooths down her fur cloak, sighs into the stiff wind, turns and shares a meaningful look with Paarthurnax, who's flown over to observe the scene with his mild drakeish curiosity.

"Didn't learn his feim," Lundga remarks to the dragon, which earns her a coarse reptilian laugh.

And then life returns to normal on High Hrothgar...

...

His throat is raw to burning, his fingers frozen stiff, but the boy still takes his careful sweet time hiking back to the cave. It's a sorry little hollow, near-uninhabitable as it faces right into the howling wind, which makes it perfect, for nobody but him would ever think to go there. He pauses at a ledge, looks carefully behind him, tip-toes across and around a large granite outcrop, to the entrance of the miserable niche. Pressing hard to the rock-face so as not to slip, he pushes aside the thick curtain of hides hanging over the cave entrance and moves into the warm space beyond.

"Well?" asks Bhag, the moment he enters. "Did it work?"

The boy no longer without a name gives his friend a sort of dazed grin. Not known for his speaking, voice still sore from all the screaming he's just done, he can do little more than nod vigorously.

Bhag-- tall for his age with his blond hair in braids, face ruddy-red from spending hours in the heat of the cave-- breaks into a wide smile. He rushes forwards and embraces the boy whose beaming face is the spitting image of his own. "So it worked!” he cries, with a hearty thump on the back. “What did I tell you, eh?"

"They called me Bhag," the boy says, voice muffled in Bhag's shoulder.

"You are Bhag," replies Bhag with a voice also muffled.

"I'm Bhag."

"Both, we both are. Now we’re both--”

"Bhag?"

The intrusive voice breaks them apart like cleaved rock and they turn to face the cave entrance.

Quite unannounced, Hoag of Morrowind lets himself in through the hide-door and brushes some snow from his chest.

"Bhag," Hoag says again, looking between the two. "And... Bhag. Huh! Now that's one more Bhag than I'd thought."

For a moment neither Bhag, not even the Bhag accustomed to talking, can think of a response to that.

What follows is a whole minute of awkward staring between them and Hoag.

And at the end of that minute Hoag goes, "Bah!", and shuffles over towards their fire to thaw his cold hands.

"How'd you know?" utters the boy now known as Bhag, face flushed red.

"I've seen corpses," replies Hoag. "I know corpses. And that wasn't a corpse of a man, was it?"

Neither Bhag can think of much of a response to that, either. They stand there, guilty, pressed tightly shoulder-to-shoulder, watching as Hoag thaws his hands over the fire. Hoag is much older than them, nearly at the end of his stay at Hrothgar, and despite his short stature he cuts an intimidating figure, what with his harsh face and his thick black caterpillar eyebrows.

"It's okay," whispers Bhag to his friend now also called Bhag. "Steep out there. We ought to kill him-- I'll push him--"

But Hoag, of course, hears, and Hoag barks out a laugh. "Save it," he says. "Nobody saw me come. And I shan't blab this secret of yours."

Neither Bhag can think of much of a response to that, either.

Hoag shifts on his feet. “Is that the thu’um?” he asks. “Makes you look like each other. Never seen anything like that… you made it up?”

“Bhag did,” says the boy now known as Bhag. “He made it.”

Bhag makes a modest snorting sound. “Ah, he made it. Taught me how to understand the words, like.”

“So, what’s the plan, then?” asks Hoag. “Now you’re both Bhag? Why?”

The boy now known as Bhag looks down at the fire, at Hoag’s dirty fingernails flickering in the orange light. He feels Bhag look at him, and he looks back at Bhag, and, having reached a mutual decision, Bhag speaks on his behalf.

“I don’t like talking,” says Bhag. “And I don’t like people.”

“I’m different,” Bhag adds. “I’ve always been different from others. Why they sent me up here. I’m a changeling, they said-- like a spirit?”

“I get tired,” Bhag complains. “Tired of your world that makes no sense. It hurts my head to try and work out why you do the things you do.”

“So we decided to share,” says Bhag. “Share the burden.”

“So we don’t understand them,” says Bhag. “Let them not understand us!”

“We’re not like you. Not nobles. Nobody’d miss either of us.”

“They’d be sufficed with one.”

Hoag listens to the tale attentively, watching them both close. Both Bhags find it impossible to imagine what he’s thinking.

“... Well,” says Hoag finally. “Bhag Two-Tongue.”

Bhag snorts out a flattered laugh.

“Bhag Two-Tongue,” Hoag repeats himself. “I’m leaving here soon. Me and Chemua are going back to Morrowind in a month’s time. Cause it seems to me that we have a problem much the same-- these Cyrod-worshipers, these dragon-faithful, cannot be understood by us.” With that famous cool aloofness that makes him the envy of all the boys, he turns away from the fire. “If you survive this mountain, if you don’t fall to your doom, come find me in Ebonheart. I could use more men with eyes enough to see what a farce this world is.”

And then, cool as frost, he slips out of their warm cave and into the tempest beyond.

“Religious, ent he?” asks Bhag, staring after the elder boy. “What’s all that talk about Cyrod? Well, they say he’s going to be a king one day.” He turns to his companion. “Morrowind, huh. East with the elves. We’d not be the strangest ones there, not with those two for competition... But what do you think?”

And the boy no longer without a name smiles. “Let’s go there.”

#fic #i will die before i put a decent ending on anything

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dialovers-translations · 3 years

Text

Diabolik Lovers LUNATIC PARADE ;; Ayato Route ー Chapter 1

Yui: ( I have to retrieve my heart no matter what…! )

ー The scene starts in the carriage

Ayato: Oh, take a look, Chichinashi! The castle has come into view!

Yui: Eh...?

*Rustle*

Ayato: Heeh...Guess it’s to be expected with the ongoing Parade, but things seem pretty fired up in the surroundin’ city as well.

Hehe. I think we’re in for a good time...!

Yui: ...Hold up!

( A good time...? I thought we were going to look for my heart...? )

Ayato: Hm? Why are you frownin’...?

Ah. I bet you think that I’ve completely forgotten ‘bout your heart, aren’t you?

Yui: Uu...

Ayato: Hmph. How could I forget? I remember it very well!

But you know, we have to gather some information on this Walter guy first.

So I see no harm in enjoyin’ the Parade a lil’ while we’re at it?

Yui: Eeh...!?

( Can we really afford to take the slow approach...? )

...

Ayato: ...Are you that worried ‘bout your heart?

Yui: ...Well...

Ayato: Oi, listen up.

I’ll ensure you get your heart back.

So don’t worry. Trust me!

Yui: ...Yeah...

( ...Right. I’m the one who chose Ayato-kun after all...So I can’t lose faith... )

*Rustle*

Ayato: ...Puttin’ that aside, guess I’m take a lil’ break before we arrive at our destination.

That bein’ said, I’m gonna borrow your lap for a bit.

*Rustle*

Yui: ...! A-Ayato-kun!?

( He laid his head down in my lap...! )

*TIMESKIP*

Yui: ( Count Walter...I wonder why exactly he has stolen my heart...? )

( Um...I think it was called a ‘Kleinod’? )

( Apparently I’m still alive because one of those has been put inside of me to replace my heart but...Still... )

...

( ...Let’s not think about that now. Worrying myself sick won’t get us any further anyway. )

( It’s just like Ayato-kun said. I shouldn’t make myself unnecessarily anxious... )

Ayato: ...Zzー ...Zzー...

Yui: ( Fufu. Ayato-kun seems to be enjoying his nap... )

ー The carriage suddenly comes to a halt

*Rustle*

Yui: Kyaah...!

Ayato: Uwah!?

*THUD*

Ayato: ...Ow!!

Yui: ( ...! Ayato-kun was sent flying from the rebound...! )

A-Are you okay...!?

Ayato: T-The fuck!? I was sleepin’ so comfortably too...!

*Rustle*

Ayato: Oi, Familiar! Where did you learn to drive like that!? Cut the crap!

Familiar: M-My sincere apologies...! Someone suddenly jumped onto the road from behind the shadow of those trees...

Ayato: A person...? ...What? Who the fuck’s that bastard dressed in all black...?

Yui: ( ...A black-clad figure riding on a horse is blocking the path... )

( On top of that, he seems to be staring our way... )

Ayato: I don’t know what’s goin’ on but I don’t like this one bit...Fuck! Imma go give him a piece of my mind!

ー Ayato gets out of the carriage

Yui: A-Ayato-kun...!

Ayato: Oi, don’t come down. Sit still and wait for me inside the carriage. ...Capiche?

ー He runs off

Yui: ( There he goes... )

( I wonder if he’ll be okay by himself...? )

ー The scene shifts to the outer area around Bernstein castle

Black-clad figure: ...

Ayato: Oi! Mr. Man in Black! You sure have some nerve to get in my way!

Who the fuck are you!? Get off your horse and name yourself!

*Thud*

Black-clad figure: ...I’m the gatekeeper.

Ayato: Gate...? Hmph! Strange name you’ve got there, mate!

Gatekeeper: I have no name. Gatekeeper...In other words, the one guarding the gate of the Demon World.

It is my duty to ensure that no unwanted intruders enter the Demon World...

I simply cannot allow that tainted woman who is neither demon nor human to set foot inside.

Ayato: Aah!? Oi, say that one more time?

She’s a tainted woman!? Imma send you straight flyin’ if you speak that sorta crap again!

ー The scene shifts back to the carriage

Yui: ( ...Oh no! I have to stop him! )

ー Yui rushes out of the carriage

Yui: Ayato-kun! Calm down!

Ayato: ...! Chichinashi!? Idiot! Why did you come out!?

Yui: Because...!

( At this rate, it’d turn into a fight... )

Gatekeeper: Hmph. I knew it...Oi, woman. You are under arrest.

*Thud*

Yui: Kyah...!

Ayato: ...! Not in my book! Let her go!!

*Rustle*

Gatekeeper: ...!

Ayato: You really think I’m gonna hand her over to some creep like you!?

Let’s go, Chichinashi! Run!!

Yui: Y-Yeah...!

ー The two of them start running as the scene shifts to Glimmer Main Street

Ayato: Haah...Haah...Seems like we got away somehow.

Even if he chases after us, we should be fine amidst this large of a crowd.

Yui: Right...

( Still...I wonder if we should have ran away...? )

( What did that person mean with ‘a tainted woman who is neither demon nor human...? )

( He must have been talking about me, right...? )

( Being here might be more dangerous in my current state than I thought... )

Ayato: ...Oi, what’s wrong? Why do you look so glum?

Yui: Eh...?

Ayato: ...Listen, Chichinashi. You are mine.

I definitely won’t let someone else have you.

So you’ve got nothin’ to worry ‘bout.

While I’m lookin’ for your heart, you can look ‘round the Parade and take it easy for a bit.

Yui: ( ...Ayato-kun... )

( Right. Ayato-kun’s with me after all...I’m sure everything will be fine. )

( I’m sure he’ll save me no matter what happens... )

Okay. I will.

Ayato: Mmh! Let’s go then.

Male Vampire A: Oi, did you see it? The poster on the plaza...

Female Vampire A: Yes. one of Karlheinz’ sons is on the wanted list, right?

Male Vampire A: Yeah, it’s Sakamaki Ayato...

Yui: ...!?

( Ayato-kun’s a wanted criminal...!? )

Ayato: Ah? What did you say ‘bout Yours Truly?

Male Vampire A: ...’Yours Truly’...? Could you be...Sakamaki...Ayato...?

Ayato: ...? I mean, yeah?

Yui: ( ...! Ayato-kun just revealed himself! I have to cover up for him!! )

Let’s go over there!

*Rustle*

Ayato: Aah? The fuck you doin’ all of a sudden...?

Yui: ( Either way, we have to get away from here...! )

ー Yui drags him away as the scene shifts to Aizen Alleyway

Ayato: ...Hmm, I see. I’m an outlaw, huh?

Well, I’m sure that ‘Gate’ guy or whatever his name was is behind it, right?

Hmph! He’s challengin’ me, huh? He’s got some balls then.

Yui: Anyway, that’s our current situation, so we should probably avoid crowded areas for now...

Ayato: ...Well, you might be right but...

...Say, Chichinashi?

Yui: Eh?

ー He pins her against the wall

*Thud*

Yui: ...Kyah!

Ayato: Aren’t you just makin’ up excuses ‘cause you want some private time with me...?

Yui: Eh...!?

Ayato: You should just be honest ‘bout it then. ...I don’t mind.

I was just ‘bout in the mood for that as well. Nn...

Yui: Nn...!

Ayato: Nn...Haah...

Yui: Haah...! Gosh, Ayato-kun! Now’s not the time for this...!

Ayato: Oh shut up. You’re the one who enticed me.

Come on, look this way. I’ll give you one more. Nn...

*Smooch*

Yui: ...

( ...It’s no use. I can’t push him away... )

ー Footsteps can be heard in the background

Male Vampire A: I could have sworn they went that way...

Ayato: ...!?

Yui: ( ...!! Somebody’s coming!! )

Ayato: ...Che. Seems like somethin’ got in the way. We’ll continue later. Come here!!

*Rustle*

Yui: Kyah...Ayato-kun, wait...!

ー They run off again to an underground passage

Ayato: Fuck...That Gate guy totally ruined our plans to enjoy the Parade...

Oi, Chichinashi. We’re takin’ a break. Now!

Yui: A-A break...? Right here?

Ayato: ...Let’s see if there’s any good spots ‘round...Well, guess we can just open one of these doors at random...There!

*Thud*

Yui: ( ...! He’s opening doors without permission...! )

Ayato: Oh. Better than I expected. We can take a seat and rest here.

Yui: A-Ayato-kun...Couldn’t this be the basement of someone’s home...?

( He just invited himself in...We’ll get yelled at if they find us! )

ー The scene shifts to an underground room

Ayato: ...Heeh. Well, it’s a lil’ dusty in here, but I guess it’s more comfortable than the place we were at before...

Well thenー... Guess I’ll kick back and relax for a bit.

*Thud*

Yui: ( Ayato-kun totally made himself at home... )

Selection

→ Call him out (☾)

Yui: ( I should probably tell him... )

...Hey, Ayato-ku...

Ayato: Come on, you should sit down here with me. I’m sure you’re tired from runnin’ ‘round, right?

Yui: ( Is he looking out for me...? It’s kind of difficult to call him out now... )

→ Keep quiet

Ayato: Come on, you should join me here as well.

Yui: S-Sure...

ー Yui takes a seat next to him

Yui: ( It can’t be helped...If the resident of this house were to come down here, we can just explain the situation to them... )

( ...However, if this person has seen the wanted poster...What will we do...? )

( Perhaps we should explain the circumstances to the Gatekeeper instead, )

( and have the wanted poster taken down...? But... )

ー A flashback ensues

Ayato: ...Listen, Chichinashi. You are mine.

I definitely won’t let someone else have you.

So you’ve got nothin’ to worry ‘bout.

ー The flashback ends

Yui: ( I truly felt happy to hear those words from Ayato-kun... )

( He got upset when the Gatekeeper called me a ‘tainted woman’ as well... )

( Despite some of his statements, I can tell he properly looks out for me... )

( I’ll stick to his plan for a while after all... )

( ...Wait, huh...? )

ー Ayato opens one of the cupboards

Ayato: Oi, Chichinashi! Check this out! There’s so much interestin’ stuff to find in this room!

Yui: ...Ayato-kun!?

( He went ahead and opened one of the cupboards...! )

A-Ayato-kun...! You’ll get scolded for looking through other people’s belongings...!

Ayato: Haah? Who cares? It’s not like I’m tryin’ to steal anythin’.

Anyway, look...You should join me here as weーー

*THUD*

Ayato: ...!? Uwah...!!

Yui: ( The cupboard...!! )

*CRASH*

Yui: ( O-Oh no...! It fell over...! )

Ayato: S-Shit...

ー Somebody rushes downstairs

???: ...Is someone there!?

Yui: ( ...! We’re busted! )

Ayato: ...Yeah. We let ourselves in for a bit, ‘kay?

House owner: ...! Who are you two!? What are you doing in someone else’s basement!?

Ayato: What do you mean...? Can’t you tell we’re takin’ a lil’ break here? Got a problem with that!?

House owner: Of course I do!!

Yui: A-Ayato-kun...!

We’re on the wanted list, so we have to somehow talk our way out before things escalate...!

Ayato: Che, shut up. I don’t need you tellin’ me that! ...There!

*THUD THUD*

House owner: Uwah!

Yui: ( He knocked over a different cupboard this time...! )

Ayato: Oi, Chichinashi! Now’s our chance! We’re gettin’ out of here!!

*Rustle*

Yui: Kyah...! W-Wait, Ayato-kun...!

ー The scene shifts back to Aizen Alleyway

Ayato: Haah...That was close...

Yui: ...Gosh, you definitely went too far just now!

Ayato: Aah!? Fuck off!

If we just stood ‘round there twiddlin’ our thumbs, we would have both gotten arrested!

Yui: ...Even so...!

Ayato: Anyway, we can’t return to the underground now...

...Guess we have no other choice. Okay, this way. Let’s go.

*Rustle*

Yui: ( ...But that’ll take us back to the plaza from earlier, no...? )

Ayato-kun, wait...! Where are you...?

Ayato: I’ve got an idea. ...Lend me your ear for a sec.

*Rustle rustle*

Ayato: There should be a dress shop right across the plaza. We’re gonna get ourselves some costumes there.

Yui: Costumes...?

Ayato: There’s plenty of people walkin’ ‘round dressed up as part of the Parade.

If we mix in with them, we’ll be able to proceed without gettin’ our cover blown, right?

Yui: ...I see! Way to go, Ayato-kun...!

Ayato: Heh! How’s that? Let me tell you, try and keep your head high.

Bein’ all sneaky and trying to keep low will only make you stand out more in these kinds of situations.

Yui: ...Yeah, gotcha!

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to the dress shop

Ayato: ...Phew. We made it to the store somehow.

Yui: ( Thank god... )

( I’m sure it’s because my heart is missing that nobody took notice of me, unlike the previous times I’ve been here...Right? )

( ...However, we can’t rest assured just yet. We have to make sure the employees don’t recognize us... )

Dress shop owner: Are you looking for something?

Ayato: Yeah! We want costumes for the Parade. For me...and for her as well.

Dress shop owner: Understood! In that case, I would highly recommend these outfits which came in just earlier today!

Ayato: Oh! Show us then!

Yui: ( ...Ayato-kun’s acting completely normal... )

( I guess nobody would suspect we’re wanted outlaws like this... )

Ayato: Hm...There’s quite the collection. Oi, Chichinashi. Which one do you want?

Yui: ...Hm, let’s see...

( If we want to conceal our faces, a mask might be good... )

*Rustle rustle*

Ayato: ...Hey, look at this one.

Yui: Eh?

*Rustle*

Ayato: You over there! Stop fooling around and make your choice already! Your sense of danger is severely lacking!

Yui: ...!

Ayato: ...What do you think of these nose glasses? All I gotta do is part my hair differently (1) to complete the look!

Yui: ...Ayato-kun...Just now were you trying to...?

( Imitate...Reiji-san...? )

Ayato: Hehe. Whatcha think? I sounded just like him, no?

Yui: ...Pfft....

Ayato: Ah! Why are you laughin’ your ass off!?

Yui: I-I mean...!

Ayato: ...You finally smiled.

Yui: Eh...?

Ayato: You’ve had a frown on your face ever since we came here.

Don’t blame me if it gives you wrinkles. (2)

Yui: ( Ayato-kun...He was trying to make me laugh on purpose... )

*TIMESKIP*

Ayato: ...’Kay, guess this will have to do for now...

Yui: ( We got masks and costumes for the both of us...I guess we’ll be okay now. )

( We kind of got caught up in the flow and spent quite some time inside the store. )

ー They leave the dress shop

Yui: ( Ah...! We accidentally walked out without our disguises. We have to get changed somewhere... )

Female Vampire A: ...Ah, hey...Aren’t they...?

Male Vampire A: ...I’m positive! It’s those two from earlier...! Seize them!

Yui: ( T-Those people from earlier...! T-This is bad...!! )

Ayato: Oi, we’re makin’ a run for it, Chichinashi! Come here!!

Yui: Y-Yeah!

ー They run towards the wagon area

Male Vampire A: They went that way!

Yui: ( They’ll catch us at this rate! )

Ayato: Fuck! No way I’m lettin’ myself get caught so easily!

Female Vampire A: They went that way!

Ayato: Oi, Chichinashi! We’re takin’ a shortcut! This way!

Yui: Eh!?

Crepe vendor: Crepes! Who’s in the mood for a fresh crepe?

Ayato: Get out of the way!

*THUD*

*CRASH*

Crepe vendor: Uwaah! My stall!

Yui: ( H-How terrible...! )

Ayato-kun, you can’t do such a thing...!

Ayato: Whatever, just follow me! Do you want to get caught!?

*Rustle*

Yui: Kyaah...!

( Even if he says that, this is messed up!! )

ー The two of them flee to Aizen Alleyway

Ayato: Haah...Haah...Che, a dead end...

It can’t be helped...I’ll just jump up in the air the...Uwah!?

*Flip*

Ayato: The fuck!? ...Wait, this is...

Yui: ...! Could this be...

( It’s our...wanted notice, right? But...these portraits... )

( ...They look nothing like us...actually... )

Ayato: ...Hahaha....Ahahaha!

What’s this? Who made these sloppy drawings?

Yui: ...But in this case, we probably wouldn’t have gotten recognized even without dressing up...

Ayato: Well, you do have a point...

ー Somebody walks up to them

???: ...I have finally found you two. No more of this useless game of tag.

Ayato: ...! You’re...!

Yui: ( The Gatekeeper... )

Ayato: ...Chichinashi! Grab hold of me! We’re takin’ off!

Yui: ...Ayato-kun, let’s not...

Ayato: Ah? The fuck you sayin’!?

Yui: Even if we do that, it’ll just bring us back to square one...

Let’s go with this person and explain the situation to them?

Ayato: Haah!? What are you sayin’!? Why should we let ourselves get arrested when we’ve done nothin’ wrong!?

Yui: ...Exactly. We have to start by explaining why we came here and clear our names.

Ayato: ...Why should we...!?

Gatekeeper: Hmph. For being a tainted woman, you seem rather reasonable.

Ayato: Tsk...Try sayin’ that one more time, you punk! I’ll send you flyin’!

*Rustle*

Yui: Ayato-kun! It’s fine! Just calm down, okay?

*Rustle rustle*

Ayato: How can I stay calm!? That bastard talked shit ‘bout you bein’ tainted again...!

Yui: Please! Listen to me right now...!!

Ayato: ...Fuck!

Yui: ( Ayato-kun...I’m sorry... )

Gatekeeper: So? Have you made your decision? Well, you only ever had one choice from the very beginning.

Yui: ...We will come with you.

Gatekeeper: ...Very well. Come with me then. I have a carriage waiting for us on the main street.

Yui: ...Yes.

*Rustle rustle*

Yui: ...Let’s go, Ayato-kun.

Ayato: ...

ー They get in the carriage

Monologue

And so,

we were taken suspect,

by the Gatekeeper.

The place we were taken to by the carriage,

was Bernstein castle.

The home of Count Walter,

and the exact same location we were headed ourselves...

It turned out that the Gatekeeper,

had been looking for us,

upon Count Walter’s direct order.

ー The scene shifts to the throne room in Bernstein castle

Ayato: Che. Tell us that right from the beginning next time!

That Gate-something is actually one of Walter’s underlings!

???: ...Well, well, my sincere apologies.

Ayato: ...! Walter!

Yui: ( ...! This man is Count Walter...! )

Count Walter: So you are Ayato, son of the world-famous Karlheinz?

Ayato: Hmph! You bet! Altho I don’t give a damn ‘bout the Old Man.

Count Walter: Please, don’t say that. And you must be...

...I see...You are, huh? ...Fufu...

Ayato: Aah? The fuck’s your problem...? Stop ogling her!

Count Walter: Fufu, don’t get so upset. Well then, let us use this opportunity to have a nice, leisurely chat. Take a seat.

Ayato: Oi...I didn’t come here for no chit-chat.

Give her heart back. Right now!

Yui: ...Ayato-kun...!

Ayato: I mean, I’m not wrong, am I!? All of this happened ‘cause this freak stole your heart...!

Count Walter: ...I see. Ayato, it appears to me that you have quite the temper.

I have actually been testing you two.

Yui: Us...?

Count Walter: Yes. Ever since I sent that card your way, I have been keeping a close eye on you from here the whole time.

To see if you, and your partner Ayato...

...are suitable candidates to possess a precious treasure of which only one exists in this world.

Ayato: A precious...treasure...?

Yui: Could that be...?

( Is he talking about my stolen heart...? )

Count Walter: Hence why I chose not to reveal my ties with the Gatekeeper in an attempt to observe how you would deal with him.

However, unfortunately, it seems like you two are simply not suited for this treasure.

Yui: ...No way!

Ayato: What do you mean!?

Count Walter: I am sure you will agree with me if you take a second to think back to everything you have done these past couple of hours?

Ayato: Fuck off! Why do we have to get told all this shit by a frickin’ thief, huh!?

Stop spoutin’ this nonsense and hand back her heart!

*THUD*

Count Walter: ...That just cost you another five points.

Ayato: Haah? The fuck are these points...!?

Count Walter: While we may know each other’s names, this is our first time meeting in person. On top of that, I am your senior by many years...

Yet you choose to behave in such an outrageous way, which can only result in a bad score, no?

I cannot see someone like that as a fit candidate for this treasure...

Ayato: Aah!? You’re in no position to tell me that!

Yui: ...! Ayato-kun!!

Count Walter: Haah...There goes another five points. This is just sad.

As I thought, I don’t think I will be returning this treasure any time soon. Give up and go home. Gatekeeper! Show our guests the way o..

Yui: P-Please wait! J-Just one more...! Can’t you give us one more chance?

Count Walter: ...Hooh.

Yui: I’m begging you! Without that heart, I will...

Please...! Just one more chance...!

Count Walter: Hm...I see...

It seems that unlike with Ayato’s case, you seem worthy of retaking the trial.

Ayato: Aah!? Excuse me!?

Count Walter: ...Well then, Yui-san. Out of respect for you, I shall give you one more chance.

Yui: ...Really!?

Count Walter: Yes. Well then...You two will go and set straight all crimes you have committed here in the Demon World.

Yui: Set straight...our crimes...?

Count Walter: ...Exactly. In the meantime, I shall watch your every move from here.

If you can satisfy me with your approach, I do not mind returning your heart to you then.

Yui: ...Really!? Thank you so much!

Count Walter: Fufu. Being capable of giving a genuine response to someone’s act of goodwill is an admirable feat. I shall award you one point for that.

Ayato: Aah!? Look at you favorin’ Chichinashi this whole time! I’m not diggin’ this!

Count Walter: Oi, Ayato. If you do not watch your words, you will lose points again? Why not take a lesson or two from her?

Ayato: ...!

Count Walter: Well then, get going you two!

Yui: ...B-But...What should we do exactly?

Count Walter: Fufu. You will have to figure that one out yourself.

All I can say is that you should think long and hard about everything you have done so far and fix things appropriately...That’s it.

Well then, I have high hopes for you.

Yui: ...Yes. Please excuse us now. ...Ayato-kun, let’s go.

Ayato: Ah, oi! Chichinashi! Wait!!

*TIMESKIP*

Monologue

We returned to the city,

in a carriage which had been prepared for us.

The Count had been so kind,

to take down the wanted posters,

which meant we no longer had to hide ourselves,

while going from one place to another.

However, the real challenge starts now.

Let us take a deep breath and think first.

About the true meaning,

behind the task which has been given to us by the Count...

I have to somehow retrieve,

my stolen heart after allーー

While trying my best to explain the situation,

to Ayato-kun who seemed as grumpy as ever,

we settled in a waterside hotel.

ー The scene shifts to the hotel room

Yui: Ayato-kun?

( ...He’s not here...? )

( Could he be out on the balcony? ...He must still be upset, huh...? )

ー She steps out on the balcony

Ayato: ...

Yui: ...Ayato-kun. You must be thirsty, no? I’ve got some juice. I’ll leave it here, okay?

*Thud*

Yui: ...Um...I’m sorry...I was quite selfish back then...

Ayato: Che, my thoughts exactly! What was your problem? You just bent to that Count’s will like it was nothing...

He’s the one who stole your heart in the first place, remember!?

So why are we the ones who have to get tested!? It makes zero sense!

Yui: ...Yeah...

( I can’t blame him for getting upset...Still... )

Say, Ayato-kun? Listen?

Ayato: Aah?

Yui: I don’t think you’re wrong...

When we came here and the Gatekeeper talked badly about me...

You got mad at him...Remember? That made me really happy, you see.

Ayato: ...!

Yui: I was convinced you’d protect me no matter what. I told myself to have some faith in you.

Even when we were being chased around by a bunch of strangers, I knew things would be okay because you were there with me.

I want to stay with you from here on out too.

...That’s why I just have to get my heart back.

So we can be together in the future as well...

Ayato: Chichinashi...

Yui: I truly do feel bad for involving you in this as well.

If you don’t want to, I’ll handle it by myself.

I promise I’ll return with my heart, so you can...

ー He suddenly embraces her

*Rustle*

Ayato: You really think I’d do that!? Don’t give me that crap!

...You are mine. How many times do I have to repeat myself?

Ayato-sama will definitely retrieve your heart!

I mean, doesn’t it only make sense? If you are mine, then so is your heart.

I’m not gonna let that bastard do with it as he pleases...!

*Rustle*

Yui: Kyah...Nn...!

Ayato: Nn...

Oi, Chichinashi. Don’t ever say you’ll go by yourself again. ...Understood?

Yui: ( Ayato-kun... )

...Yeah. Gotcha. I won’t.

Ayato: Mmh...Well then...Let’s call it a day.

Starting tomorrow, we’ve gotta get started on that fucked up task given to us by the Count after all.

Yui: Yeah, good idea. ...Ah, Ayato-kun!

Ayato: Pwaah...Hm, what?

Yui: Listen...Okay? ...Thank you for everything...

Ayato: ...Hmph. What are you sayin’ out of nowhere...?

...Oi. I was gonna sleep but I changed my mind. Come here.

*Rustle*

Yui: ( Eh!? W-Wait...Ayato-kun!? Kyaah! )

*Thud*

Ayato: ...Oi, Chichinashi. If you want to thank me that badly, you better tend to me tonight.

Yui: Eh? W-What do you mean...?

Ayato: ...Let me suck your blood. I was just feelin’ kinda thirsty.

Don’t even try sellin’ me that juice of yours. It has to be your blood. Hehe.

*Rustle rustle*

Ayato: Nn...Haah...Nn...

Haah...It really does taste a lil’ different from usual but oh well...

...It’s still your blood in the end.

In other words, every single drop of this blood belongs to me as well. Nn...

Yui: ...Ayato...kun...

Ayato: ...Oi, gimme more. Nn...Nn...

Yui: ( Even if his words are harsh at times, he always embraces me so gently... )

( I’m sure everything will be okay with Ayato-kun by my side... )

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

Translation notes

(1) 七三 or ‘seven-three’ refers to a type of hair style in which the hair is parted unevenly with 30% being on one side and the other 70% on the other, hence the name ‘seven-three’. Reiji has this hairstyle, so Ayato always refers to him as 七三メガネ or ‘shichi-san megane’

(2) Literally he says ‘Don’t blame me if your face never goes back to normal’

← RETURN TO PROLOGUE

→ PROCEED WITH MAIN STORY [CHAPTER 2]

→ SUB-SCENARIO #1 [W/ SHUU]

→ SUB-SCENARIO #2 [W/ KANATO]

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #ayato sakamaki #lunatic parade #diabolik lovers translation #lpayatochapter1

59 notes · View notes

buck-nialled · 3 years

Text

All Shook Up - T. Holland (01)

NOTE: fuck it, let’s start a new series! a fifties au featuring poindexter!tom x cheerleader!reader, and also a meanie harrison. let me know if i should continue this!

TAGLIST: @niallberry @swiftmendeshoran @theshyspy @clarabsevero @golden-hoax @dudethisiswhyyoudonthavefriends @organicpurplepants @wowitsel @sunwardsss

CH I. LONELY BOY

“Hey Poindexter,” the brunette turns away from his locker, eyes scanning over all of the gelled haircuts and letterman jackets for the nasally voice no doubt summoning his attention. “Where’d ya get those glasses? Geeks “R” Us?” Tom only groans quietly to himself before facing his small cubicle once more. As he tried drowning out the shrill laughs coming from the clan of girls adorning poodle skirts congesting the tiled corridor, the boy takes a sharp inhale through the nose at the sight of a hand slamming the door to his locker closed.

“How goes it, Poindexter?” Tom had suffered enough regular visits from Harrison to know two things. One was to never make eye contact in fear of earning a shiner and a broken pair of specs to trash, and the second was how to ensure he would live another day. “I’m here for my fee.” The proximity between the two allowed Tom a deep whiff of the tobacco Harrison was chewing that morning. Pushing a gag back down his throat, Tom nodded and hastily swung his knapsack around to sift through it. A few moments of silence pass when Tom’s hand zips the first pocket to his bag back up and tries the next one.

“Don’t tell me you forgot,” Harrison tilts his head in a taunting manner, adding “you know what happens when you don’t have my fee.” Tom curls his toes as Harrison’s fist collides with the door of Tom’s locker a couple of times. The boy shivers at the memory of the last time his lanky body was crammed mercilessly and without regard into the small space. He missed three periods and was forced to wait for the janitor to pass by and hear him pleading for somebody--anybody--to set him free.

“I-I have it...I know I put it somewhere in here…” his trembling hands reached the zipper to the smallest pocket, which thankfully held enough for his lunch. Or, in this case, Harrison’s lunch.

“Ah, thanks, Poindexter.” Tom eyes the hand attached to the leather-clad arm snatch the bills from his scrawnier one. “Try to be quicker tomorrow, eh?” He can only nod in response, feeling the bell to first period vibrate his core. He trudges to first period with his head hung low, already suffering a sinking feeling in the pit of his gut that today would be no good. No day at school ever was for Tom. He accepted that from the very first day he stepped into class lacking a proper haircut and twenty-twenty vision, he would be the pet of every teacher and the butt of every joke, whether he liked it or not.

“I never liked fish stick Friday, anyway.” He says to himself before approaching his usual seat towards the front of the classroom. It was the desk every student feared; apparently, the wooden seat had a stigma for sticking out to the teacher, who would call on whoever sat in it. More recently, it had grown attractive to his peers’ eyes for being infected with “nerd germs”. Truthfully, Tom didn’t think himself all that smart compared to his classmates. The only difference he could academically between himself and those occupying the desks around him was that he put forth real effort into his assignments, especially those which excited him. Sometimes he becomes certain he missed a memo about only being excited over last night’s football game or the malt shop’s new jukebox.

On the way to his desk, Tom couldn’t focus his eyes anywhere except the bright red lipstick complementing Y/N Y/L/N’s lips. He supposes admiring her was an activity he and the rest of the school did enjoy together. And Tom could not blame anybody for their disposition towards the girl. Being head cheerleader with the niftiest poodle skirts in Midtown history were perks that drew eyes and fished for compliments, unlike Tom and his four-eyed, shaggy hair appearance. Tom’s quirked lips fell as he witnessed the sight of Y/N’s opening to chat with Harrison, who claimed the seat beside hers. He tried to pull himself away from the sight by finally sitting his rump down in the chair and reading the list of assignments written on the chalkboard by the teacher, but his ears refused to leave the conversation alone.

Amidst her melodious giggles, Tom heard Y/N and Harrison discussing the big football game tonight. “It’s gonna be bitchin’,” he caught Harrison’s deep voice poking through the rest of the pre-class chatter, “especially since I’ll have you cheering for me.”

“Alright class,” the instructor starts, before taking the roll of the class. Afterward, she sets her clipboard down and clasps her hands together. “Let’s get down to it. It’s time for the annual science fair!” A chorus of groans echoes throughout the concrete walls, but Tom straightens himself up in his seat. This assignment was his favorite of all his classes for many reasons. It was no surprise that each year he wins by a landslide in comparison to the other projects, but he also has the freedom to do it completely by himself.

“This year will be different from the last years, however, because you all will be partnering up with somebody else from this class.” Tom’s shoulders slump, his lips parting in surprise. He was preparing himself to be the last choice of everybody in the classroom. Though it was guaranteed that he would lead himself and his partner to a blue ribbon, nobody would risk social suicide to willingly choose him. “And, before you all flip your lid about who you want to partner with, I will be choosing them for you.” Another series of whines leaves many of the students, leaving the teacher to hush their protests and reach the jar of popsicle sticks located on her desk.

Her voice calling out a succession of names becomes muffled to Tom’s ears. He crosses his fingers beside his legs, scrunching his eyes closed and silently praying for somebody feasible to work with--or really, somebody who isn’t Harrison.

“Harrison Osterfield and…” Her fingers dip back into the jar, stirring the wooden sticks around in a manner Tom is sure is meant to torture him. “Jacob Batalon.” The brunette allows a relieved breath to seep past his lips and hears the two teammates celebrating behind him. Little did they know, Tom was having an internal celebration of his own.

“Y/N Y/LN…” All of the unsaid names in the class, Tom included, held their breath for the lucky person to be drawn. Tom eyes the instructor’s manicured fingers dive back down, swirling all of the possible partners around. Tom shuts his eyes and debates the possibility of his name being drawn. Would it be nice to work with a paper shaker who—more or less—presents herself as an airhead? Yes. But is it worth enduring a possible beating from Harrison if he stole his favorite cheerleader from him? Tom isn’t sure.

Luckily, he didn’t have to debate any further as the teacher drew the next stick, proclaiming, “Diana Ross.” Tom’s eyes darted around the classroom trying to spot Diana Ross in one of the desks, but only found other puzzled stares in return.

“Um,” a friend of Y/N’s who sat on the other side of her in the back of the classroom raised her hand, “I don’t think she’s in this class, Mrs. Weatherby.”

“Oh, my!” Mrs. W giggles to herself. “Her name must have gotten mixed up with your class by mistake. Thank you for correcting me, Barbara. Miss Y/L/N, your actual partner will be...Tom Holland.” Tom nearly gets whiplash from his neck shooting up at such a fast rate. The boy feels his cheeks go red as he turns around in his seat to send his partner a shy wave.

Barbara leans over to Y/N, her mouth agape. “Oh, my stars. You have to be partners with Poindexter?!”

Science class came to an end before Tom could even muster the courage to properly introduce himself to Y/N. In the classes that followed after, he was imagining every possible scenario of how working with the school’s queen would play out. She could leave him to do all of the work. Maybe she would actually give her input on parts of the project too. The worst scenario that came to mind featured Y/N hating anything Tom brought to the table and ultimately earning the two of them a big fat ‘F’ in Mrs. Weatherby’s grade book. By lunchtime, Tom felt sick to his stomach from the smell of lukewarm fish sticks and these various figments.

He approaches the table Y/N is sitting at with her fellow cheerleaders and leather jacket clan, clearing his throat before speaking. “Hey, Y/N.” The clatter of silverware on plastic trays halts as all eyes turn to scan Tom’s frame up and down in dislike. Y/N studies all of the expressions being delivered to her partner and scoffs.

“Hey, poindexter. What are you doin’ over here?” Her voice saying his—unofficial—name still cues him to gulp down his nerves.

“I came to talk to you about the project, so we can figure out what we’re gonna do.” Her friends kept glancing between the two, absorbing every detail of the conversation.

“Uh...okay…” Y/N concedes, standing from her seat at the lunch table. She wipes her hand down the front of her pink, poodle skirt before grabbing hold of her lunch sack and following Peter to an empty table nearby. He tries not to train his eyes on how her hands reach around toward her backside to smooth the skirt down again before taking a seat.

“So what do you want to do?”

She shrugs her shoulders. “What do you usually do?” Peter eyes her hands as they open the brown lunch bag, removing a sandwich and an apple.

“Well, last year I did a study on kinetic energy--”

“Cool, let’s just do that.” She decides, taking a bite from her sandwich.

“What? No. I just said I did that last year.” She rolls her eyes.

“Do you really think they’d notice if you did it again?” Considering he won with his presentation last year, Tom wouldn’t bet on sneaking past the teacher with the same exact concept.

“Yes.” The boy nods his head furiously. “Look, why don’t we just meet up later?” He suggests, only to receive a head shake.

“No can do. The cheerleading captain needs to be present for practice and the game tonight. Unless you want to show up and talk during the game.” She snorts, meeting Tom’s stoic expression.

“What’s so funny?”

“No offense, Poindexter--”

“Tom. My name’s Tom.” He interjects sharply.

“Right. Let’s be honest, you would never show up to a football game for enjoyment. You haven’t even been to one of ours.”

“You don’t know that!” The boy argues but slumps down in his seat as Y/N lifts an eyebrow.

“Really...do you even know our school’s mascot?”

“I...that’s irrelevant.” Tom disputes, face heating underneath her hypnotizing stare. “And for all you know, I could have come to a game to watch.”

“Nope. You haven’t.”

“Really, and how would you know?”

“Because I…” Y/N pauses spewing her argument. Tom sits patiently, eyeing the paper shaker whose mouth remained agape.

“Well?”

“B-because it’s my job as a head cheerleader to keep the crowd entertained at all times. That also includes knowing who’s in the crowd. And I’ve never seen you on our bleachers.”

“Well, you will tonight. Because I’ll be there. And we can figure out what to do then.” From what Y/N had heard of Tom around school, the boy didn’t have a dishonest bone in his body. But something about keeping his word to this level seemed fanatical. Even picturing the lanky boy in his plaid shirt and specs slouching on the cool metal seats proved to be difficult for Y/N.

She narrowed her eyes, skeptical. “Whatever you say, Tom.” His name sounded foreign falling from anybody’s tongue except his parents. But he won’t lie, it made his insides flutter from her acknowledgment. He gazed at Y/N grabbing her lunch sack and departing from the conversation until she reached her original seat near her friends. She smoothed out her skirt once again before plopping down in between Harrison and Barbara and flickered her eyes up to meet Tom’s.

Immediately, both looked away. Y/N, to her lunch sack which she was now ripping open to occupy her eyes, and Tom down to his fingers. Seconds pass before Y/N slyly peeks up again, and notices now that the boy is sitting alone and without a tray or bag of food.

She leans next to Barbara’s ear, murmuring. “H-hey, does Poindexter always go without eating?” Maybe that’s why his arms never properly fill out the sleeves of his sweaters, or why his belt always needs extra notches from a pocket knife, she thinks to herself.

“Who cares?” Barbara inquires between obnoxious chews of her pink bubblegum. “Maybe it’s a new nerd diet or something.” Y/N only hums but feels her eyes narrowing down in suspicion yet again. Harrison nudges her shoulder, breaking her from her thoughts.

“Will you wear my jacket tonight at the game? It’d only feel right to leave it in your hands.” The boy smirked, trailing his eyes up and down her figure.

“Absolutely.” A smile crawls onto her lips as she stares at his wandering eyes. She cannot fight the fact that hers want to do the same, and they flicker back over to where Tom was sitting, only to find the table clear.

She wonders if tonight will be the night she looks for his face in the crowd and finally finds it.

#tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fanfic #tom holland imagines #tom holland imagine #tom holland blurb #tom holland one shot #tom holland au #tom holland smut #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n

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honey-dewey · 3 years

Text

Gold in the Summertime

Pairing: Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales/Reader

Word Count: 2,545

Warnings: Panic attacks, mentions of injury, stitches, and needles, but it’s mostly just that sweet sweet hurt/comfort

Permanent Taglist: @phoenixhalliwell @star-wars-hell

Very few good things ever happen at three AM in the Urgent Care. Let’s make a short list of things that will definitely not fall under the category of ‘good.’ 1) Having a patient who has apparently injured himself but refuses to tell you how. 2) Said patient hyperventilating and panicking until he actually breaks something because you tried to give him a tetanus shot. 3) The same patient’s three best friends yelling at you. 4) Singing to still the same patient to calm him down so you can stick him with a tiny needle so he won’t possibly die of tetanus.

A/N: The song that inspired this fic is actually a favorite of mine called ‘Gold in the Summertime’ by Matt Nathanson. Not required to read the fic, but it’s a cute song.

“Hey.”

“Oh hell no,” you said, turning to see your fellow night shift nurse, Tori, standing in the door of the break room. “No, I am not dealing with whatever drunken fool walked into that waiting room. It is three in the morning and I do not feel like screwing around right now.”

Tori raised an eyebrow. “Done?”

“Done,” you said, standing and preparing for the inevitable. “Who’s the patient?”

Tori handed you a file. You opened it, quickly scanning the information. F. Morales, forty two years old, in decent health, up to date with all his immunizations, served in the military, and was currently in the Urgent Care for a laceration on his left shoulder.

“How bad is it?” You asked, closing the file and following Tori to the waiting room.

“Eh,” she said with a shrug. “He isn’t gushing blood, so it’s not ER worthy. Probably just needs some stitches and a tetanus shot, depending on what got him.”

You blinked. “He didn’t say?”

Tori grinned. “Nope. Have fun.”

Groaning to yourself, you opened the waiting room door. “Morales?”

A man stood up, clearly the injured one in his group of friends due to the wad of cloth he was pressing to his left shoulder. “Yes?”

“Follow me,” you said, tucking the file beneath your arm. “So, what happened?”

The man grimaced. “Uh, I busted my shoulder.”

“How?”

The man was silent as you pushed open an exam room door and gestured him inside. “Well?”

“Well what?”

You sighed. “How’d you cut yourself?” You asked again, watching the man hop up on the exam table. You walked around to his back and slowly cut away the patch of his shirt that covered his shoulder. “And while you’re at it, you got a first name I could use, Mr. Morales?”

“Please just call me Frankie, most people do.”

“Most people?”

Frankie shifted as you examined the harsh tear in the skin. “My friends, those assholes outside, call me Catfish.”

You chuckled. “Military nickname?”

“Yeah.” Frankie winced as you pressed a finger against the wound.

A beat of silence, and then you had another question. “Is Frankie your legal name?”

“No, why?”

You smiled. “We need a legal name for the records.”

Frankie shrugged his uninjured right shoulder as you continued to evaluate the messy scrape on his left. “It’s Francisco. And that shit hurts.”

“Sorry,” you said, stepping back. “It needs a few stitches,” you decided. “But it isn’t horribly urgent so I’m gonna go grill your buddies outside to see if they’ll give me more answers about what happened.”

Frankie nodded, watching you leave.

“Would the party that escorted one Francisco Morales please follow me?” You asked, pushing open the waiting room door.

Three men stood up, and you led them down the hall a ways, so your conversation would be private. “Alright. Spill. He won’t tell me what happened.”

The man on the left snorted. “Unsurprising,” he said. “Fish is like a damn lockbox.”

“Benny,” the man in the middle hissed, nudging the man on the left. “Santi, you wanna take this? You saw it best.”

“Excuse you!” Benny objected. “I was there too!”

“You’re drunk.”

The man on the right, Santi, sighed. “Frankie got into a fight outside the bar we were at tonight. Some guy made a horrible comment about how women belong in the kitchen, I dunno, I didn’t hear that bit too well. But Frankie managed to win the fight with minimal injuries, right up until the guy’s equally shitty friend clipped his shoulder with a ripped in half beer can.”

You nodded, jotting notes down on Frankie’s file. “So what I’m hearing is that he was cut with a piece of likely filthy metal?”

“Yep.”

“Perfect,” You grumbled sarcastically. “You boys can head back to the waiting room. I’ll send him out when I’m done.”

The boys left, and you swung by the supply closet to grab a suture kit before heading back into Frankie’s exam room. “Still bleeding?”

Frankie looked up. “Yeah.” He had taken his hat off, fidgeting with the worn out brim. “Hurts.”

“I’ll bet,” you said, coming up behind him and gently taking his hand off the wound. “Gonna pop some stitches in, disinfect the hell out of this, then get your height, weight, the like, and send you off with a tetanus shot just for good measure. That old beer can probably doesn’t have any kind of illness, but we have to be sure.”

Frankie was silent, which wasn’t a good thing. You disinfected the wound, which sent him into a tailspin of hissed curses in your general direction, and before he realized what was happening, you were halfway done with the stitches.

“And that’s the last one,” you said, tying off the last stitch. “The stitches dissolve after a while, so you shouldn’t have to worry about coming back to get them removed. But do take care to change the bandages twice a day, and do not use this arm. I don’t care what you have to do, please do not rip these stitches.”

Frankie chuckled. “Yes doctor.”

Finishing up the bandage, you grinned at Frankie’s current shirt situation. “Do you want me to grab you a new shirt? I kinda ruined yours.”

“You did your job,” Frankie pointed out. “But yes, that would be nice.”

You ducked out of the room and grabbed a spare shirt from the nurse’s lost and found. “No one’s claimed this thing for almost eight months. I think the guy who owned it quit,” you said, handing Frankie the old Jack Daniels whiskey shirt. You watched him struggle to put it on, helping him a bit as the shirt got caught on his shoulder.

“Okay, follow me,” you said once Frankie was wearing a shirt again. He followed, just as asked, and you took his height and weight, texting both figures to Tori so she could prep a tetanus shot for you. In the meantime, you kept Frankie occupied, asking him questions about military things in the exam room.

“What’d you do in the military?”

“I was a pilot.”

“Planes?”

“Helos.”

“Fun. I’ve never been in a helicopter before. Those friends outside, are they?”

“Military friends? Yeah, mostly. I knew Santiago before all that though.”

A knock at the door interrupted your bonding session. Tori opened the door, holding a tray with the tetanus shot and a band-aid. “Sorry. Those shitty kids band-aids were all I could find.”

You shrugged. “Nah, it’s fine. I’m sure Mr. Morales won’t object to a Paw Patrol band-aid.”

However, as you turned back to Frankie, you realized he’d gone white as a sheet. “Frankie?”

Frankie shied away from you, despite you not moving. “Don’t,” he said, voice choked. “Please.”

Your heart squeezed at the desperation in his voice. He was very plainly terrified. “Frankie,” you repeated calmly, holding both hands up so he knew you were unarmed. “Hey, deep breaths.”

Frankie took a stuttering breath, and you sent a silent prayer out that he wouldn’t have a panic attack here. You sat next to him, keeping a few feet of space between you and him. “Do you want me to go get the boys?”

Frankie shook his head, eyes wide. You tried to think. Distracting him would do no good. You’d tried that before with other people, and with patients who were this panicky, a distraction made it worse. Trying to sneak up on him was somehow an even worse idea. With his background, he was likely to know when someone was trying to surprise him, and he could definitely defend himself. The only thing you could think of was calming him down and then sticking him as fast as you could.

It took a few minutes, but Frankie’s breathing returned to normal, and his muscles relaxed somewhat. You didn’t move, simply sitting there beside him and establishing yourself as a calm figure despite your reeling mind. “Frankie?”

He looked up at you, not saying a word.

“Are you ready to try?” You asked. “I have to give you the shot. I don’t want you to get sick, okay? Tetanus is a killer, and I don’t wanna see you dying in a hospital bed until you’re at least eighty, okay?”

A slow nod. You stood, making your movements obvious as you put on new gloves and opened an alcohol wipe.

“C’mere,” you said, gesturing Frankie closer. He scooted towards you, and you met him halfway. “This is cold, just a warning.”

You rolled up Frankie’s shirt sleeve, exposing his left shoulder. He shivered as you ran the alcohol wipe across his skin, and kept his eyes anywhere but on you as you uncapped the tiny syringe. “Frankie?”

Frankie whined, his breathing picking up again as his body barreled towards full panic mode.

“Frankie!” You recapped the syringe and set it aside, turning your full attention to Frankie. He jumped away from you, eyes wide once more. You stood back as he curled in on himself, breathing quickening too fast. He was hyperventilating. “Frankie! Listen to me! You’re not-“

You cut yourself off as the loud, ragged breaths began to turn into animalistic screams, Frankie losing his balance and falling off the exam table and crashing into the sink before hitting the floor. The thud his body made scared you, but not as much as his current panicked state.

“Tori!” You yelled, opening the door and yelling for your coworker. “Tori!”

Unfortunately, it was not Tori who came to your rescue. It was Frankie’s three friends, all of whom looked incredibly concerned. Tori was behind them, shouting that they couldn’t be back here. Santiago simply pushed past you and immediately rushed to Frankie’s side, the other two joining him as he attempted to console Frankie.

You, knowing your help wouldn’t be needed, tried to step away, but Santiago turned to call you back. “Come here!”

Sighing, you hesitantly entered the exam room. “What do you need from me?”

“What did you do to him?” Benny asked, clearly the most worried. “He hasn’t had an attack this bad in years!”

“I just tried to give him a tetanus shot!” You defended.

Santiago and the other man had gotten Frankie situated back on the exam table, sitting on his sides and keeping him upright as Benny rushed in and took his hands. “Fish? You with us buddy?”

Frankie, who had thankfully stopped screaming, whined. Benny smiled, squeezing his hands. “There’s our Fish. Hey, hey, no, look at me,” he directed as Frankie’s eyes drifted to you in the corner and his breath hitched.

Frankie’s head slumped against Santiago’s shoulder. He hummed uncomfortably, face scrunching as he shifted, trying to get comfortable.

“His shoulder,” you guessed softly. “Someone’s touching it.”

The man on Frankie’s right looked at his back. “Shit. Sorry Fish.”

Frankie sighed in relief and turned into pudding against Santiago’s shoulder. Benny still held his hands, humming softly. The other man, whose name you still didn’t know, stood and pulled you aside. “Hey. Did he tell you?”

“That he was trypanophobic?” You said, sliding your hands in your pockets. “No. But I figured it out pretty quickly when he went white as hell as soon as he saw the syringe. No one has a reaction this severe unless they have a phobia.”

The man nodded. “Yeah. Benny was right. Fish is kinda stubborn about these things. He hasn’t had an anxiety attack in years though. Sorry Benny gave you shit about triggering one. I know it wasn’t really your fault.”

“It was,” you mumbled, eyeing Frankie over the man’s shoulder. ��It just wasn’t my intention.”

“Yeah.” The man looked back at Frankie. “Is the tetanus shot necessary?”

You nodded. “Unfortunately, yes.”

Santiago looked at you. “How good are you at singing?”

“I’m sorry?”

“It keeps him calm,” Santiago explained. “He used to sing to the helos whenever there was bad turbulence. Kept him level. We’d do it while you give him the shot, but none of us can sing.”

Frankie made a small, strangled noise, and you almost freaked out until Benny smiled and you realized Frankie was trying to laugh.

Smiling, you grabbed the syringe, a new alcohol wipe, and the band-aid. Santiago moved so he was sitting mostly behind Frankie, still supporting him. The other man, who you faintly heard Benny call Will, sat back on Frankie’s right. Benny took Frankie’s hands and stood to the side a bit so you would have room to work.

“Oh, let’s keep this going, I wanna go all in,” you sang softly, repeating some cute and catchy song Tori insisted on playing whenever she could. “We’ll never be lonely in the dark.” As you sang, you opened the alcohol wipe and cleaned a patch of Frankie’s shoulder.

“Rooftop in soho, Prince on the radio,” you kept going, uncapping the syringe and taking Frankie’s arm. “The city streets glow, gold in the summertime.” You quickly, between words, stuck Frankie and pressed down on the plunger. He whined, shying from the pain, but you just pressed the band-aid over the tiny puncture mark and kept singing. “Summertime, summertime, summertime, I gotta get that feeling.”

Gently taking Benny’s place, you stripped your gloves off and put your hands overtop Frankie’s. “You did good, Frankie,” you said. “C’mon, let’s get you out of here so the boys can take you home.”

Frankie wobbled to his feet, still nonverbal and a bit unsteady. You ended up needing a break in the waiting room, which was still empty. Giving Santiago a bottle of water for Frankie, you sat next to Frankie while the boys started the car.

You absently hummed the song from earlier, mostly to fill the stifling silence. As you reached the part you’d sung for Frankie, you noticed, with a small jolt, that he was humming along with you.

“You like the song?” You guessed, and Frankie nodded.

“Here.” You pulled a pen from your coat pocket and took his hand. “Give the whole thing a listen,” you said, scrawling down the name and artist of the song on Frankie’s hand. “And then call me,” you finished, adding your phone number below the writing.

Frankie smiled. “Meet cute,” he rasped, voice practically destroyed.

You laughed. “This is more of a meet ugly, but sure.”

Santiago came back, helping Frankie to his feet.

“See you again?” Frankie asked, voice still pretty shot.

“Hopefully not,” you said, holding the door open for Santiago. “At least, not here.”

Just like that, Frankie was gone.

That sunrise, as you settled into bed, you got a text from an unknown number.

Unknown Number: Song was super cute. Definitely adding it to my exercise playlist

You: Is this Mr. Morales?

Unknown Number: Just Frankie

Unknown Number was saved as Just Frankie

You: Okay Just Frankie. How’s your shoulder

Just Frankie: Hurts like a bitch, but I’ve had worse.

You: I’ll bet.

Just Frankie: Hey, wanted to ask you something

You: shoot

Just Frankie: do you always work nights?

You: not always, but mostly.

Just Frankie: cool. You free tomorrow at noon? I found this cool lunch place that has the best burgers ever

You: ever? I’ll have to see about that

Just Frankie: it’s a date then

You: It’s a date

#Triple Frontier #francisco 'catfish' morales #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #Pedro Pascal #My writing

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