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cheapshrimpysheep · 1 year

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Broom Flying Tutoring

SUMMARY: How would it be if they were assigned by Coach Vargas to help you with your flying lessons?

CHARACTERS: OB Students (Riddle, Leona, Azul, Jamil, Vil, Idia & Malleus)

TAGS: Fluf; GN Reader

WORD COUNT: An average of 340 words per character.

CONTEXT: Seeing how bad you were doing in the flying lessons Coach Vargas decided to pair you with another student. Either with someone who is good at it to help tutoring you or with someone who is struggling just as much as you are for the two of you to help each other. But what if they also have a crush on you?

Coach Vargas chose him for being one of the best students in the class.

He's a great tutor, strict, but good. If he has a crush on you, this will be a great way to show himself off to you.

He will tell you all the technical stuff like: How to position your legs and feet; What back posture you must have; Where to focus your attention; etc. “Hands at half past noon! … twelve thirty…”

When you fail, he will not be as "tyrant" as he would be with his Heartslabyul students. He knows you don't have magic and you’re trying your best. But he will still be strict with you. His way to caring.

When you succeed at an exercise, he will congratulate you with his smile on. He'll also use it as a proof that it is not impossible to you and that you can do even better if you two keep practicing.

If you are on the same broom for him to make a demonstration, he would be the one in command, and you would be holding onto him from the back. Thank the Great Seven you can't see his blushing face from where you are.

If you fall from a great height, he will use magic to save you because he knows he's not strong enough to catch you alone. And then will run to you to check if you're not hurt. Once he sees that you're okay, he'll sigh and tell you to be more careful. You almost gave that boy a heart attack.

Coach Vargas chose him because, despite being the best at the class that’s not enough to pass. So, if Leona doesn’t help you Vargas will not pass him.

He's the worst best teacher ever. He is the best because he can actually make you fly on the broom by yourself at the end of the day. But he’s the worst because of the way he does that: with a lot of smug and pretending he doesn't give a dam about you.

When you fail, he’ll sigh, put your fingers to his forehead like you're an idiot, and tell you to "try again, herbivore." as if his technique is right and you're the only one failing.

When you succeed at an exercise, he will give you his signature smug smile and tell you something like “See, it’s not that hard if you do as I say.” He will continue with the simplest exercises, hoping that will be enough for Vargas until the end of class. He just wants to end it and go take a nap somewhere. Maybe on your lap as thanks.

If you are on the same broom for him to make a demonstration, he will be behind you with his hands on yours to show you how to control the broom. A guy as prideful as him is not the little spoon type. He will eventually lean on you out of laziness, and as a way to mess with you.

If you fall from a great height: The minute before that he would be making fun of you, and the next he will reach to you on his broom like a bullet. He'll catch you on his arms, sigh annoyed and tell you how clumsy you are and how much work you're giving him because of that. Secretly relieved that you're okay.

Coach Vargas chose him because sometimes is good to pairing two people that are equally struggling to help each other, for them being more comfortable with someone at the same level.

If he has a crush on you: THIS IS HORRIBLE!!! He’s going to look like a complete idiot in front of you. NO! You should not see him like this! Please assure him that it's ok and you will not think less of him for that.

He only can help you as much as you can help him. Best case scenario: you will exchange observations about what you may be doing wrong and somehow overcome it and actually improve on your flying skills.

He doesn't have the same problem with you as he had with Jamil. You’re helping him as much as he’s helping you so that’s already a well-structured deal.

When you fail, he’ll smile charmingly at you and encourage you to keep trying.

When HE fails, he will be extremely frustrated and irritated by that. But will make his absolute best to hide it so you don't notice. He’ll hesitate to try again. He already humiliated himself in front of you once, he doesn't want to do it again.

When you succeed at an exercise, he will congratulate you with a smile, but a fake one. He is happy that you succeed, but now your one step better then him. His not mad that you’re getting better, but if you keep that pace, you'll be so much better than him you'll look down on him. No! He's exaggerating and he knows it. You're not like that. But he still wants to look good, especially on your eyes.

When HE succeeds at an exercise, he will be extremely proud of himself and vocalise some on that. And if you praise him for his good work, he will feel both even better and flattered. If he blushes (he will), he’ll hide it from you.

You’ll not be at the same broom. Too dangerous for the both of you.

If you fall from a great height: he would probably already be on the ground for safety in case that happened. He will use magic to slow your fall and then catch you in his arms. “This is why I don't risk going to high.” Once he realizes he's carrying you bridal style, he'll gently set you down, maybe apologize, and try his best not to think about it too much. He needs his focus.

Coach Vargas chose him because he knows he’s a good tutor and have the profile of one. He just hopes this goes better than with Azul.

Of course, it does! He’s a great and a patinate teacher and you’re a good student despite your difficulties.

When you fail, he’ll be totally chill about it, at least on the outside. He will try to continue improving his teaching to find the best technic for you. You're not as insufferable as Kalim, so he has no problem helping you. And if he has a crush on you, oh the pleasure to be your tutor is all his.

When you succeed at an exercise, he will not just congratulate you, he will do that with his rarest and biggest smile. As if that conquest belonged to both of you. As you are one of the few people who genuinely appreciates his work, you deserve that smile.

If you start praising his work as a teacher, he'll hide his blush with his hood and tell you that's nothing special, that you are the one who is a good student.

If you are on the same broom for him to make a demonstration, he will be behind you with his hands on yours to show you how to control the broom. He genuinely believes that's one of the best ways to teach you, but he needs to concentrate on the teaching and not on your positions. He is a mix of blush and smug.

If you fall from a great height: he would probably already have made one our multiple plans in case that happened. He´s ready for anything. He will catch you with no problem and make 100% sure you're okay. Maybe he's not blushing for holding you in safety because he probably already made something similar with Kalim or so. The fact that it's you it’s just a sweet and delightful bonus for him.

Coach Vargas chose him because, like Riddle, his one of the best students in the class and have chances to be a good tutor.

And like Riddle, he is a great tutor, strict, but good. Just put the extra that besides him wanting to teach how to fly on the broom, he's also teaching you how to look fabulous doing it. No one tutoring by him will look sloppy on a broom!

And if he has a crush on you: EXPECIALLY YOU need to look as beautiful as he sees you.

When you fail, he’ll sigh and do a mix of incentivise you and demanding you to keep trying. “Come on, my spudling, you can do better than that. Put it a little more effort.” The “my” part is if he has a crush on you ;)

When you succeed at an exercise, he will congratulate you. He’ll maybe even tell you he’s proud of you. But then he will keep demanding more for you to reach your full potential. His way of caring.

If you are on the same broom for him to make a demonstration, he would be the one in command, and you would be holding onto him from the back. He'll tell you to grab on tight and don't fall. As fi you could control that part. And then to pay attention.

If you fall from a great height, he will catch you flawlessly. And then scold you. Telling you that that’s why you should have a good posture on the broom. Looking elegant was just a plus. Weren't you listening? Unfortunately for you (or not), the more he scolds you means the more he likes and cares about you.

Coach Vargas chose him because of the same reason he could have chosen Azul. sometimes is good to pairing two people that are equally struggling to help each other, for them being more comfortable with someone at the same level.

If he has a crush on you… NOPE! NOPE! NOPE! NOPE! NOPE! Coach Vargas can’t do this to him. Besides being a total noob and already being humiliated in the public square during classes, now he has to do it in front of you? He never selected the hard mode on this! Please assure him that it's ok and you will not think less of him for that.

Do you REALLY want to learn how to fly? I mean, you could just try to hide from everyone and pretend you don't exist until the end of the class. He can compensate you somehow for dragging you with him. Make sure you don’t fail at the class.

What? You want to learn how to fly AND help him too?! Damn you really are a weirdo, hum? Hey, don't get him wrong, better than being a normie. F-fine… he will try… but don't complain if you both fail the class because of him.

When you fail, he'll probably start telling you things like "See, this kind of stuffs are nightmare-mode for noobs like us." and "Keep trying will just be a bad-management of HP." But don’t listen to him. Be as stubbornly positive as he is stubbornly negative. Even if is just to prove him wrong. Nail that level!

When you succeed at an exercise, Pum pum pum pum pum, level up. But for real now, he will probably say something like you levelled up. If he was indifferent to you, he couldn't care less about it and would keep saying that's just a waist. But because he does like you and maybe even has a crush on you, he will be more like: “W-wow, you actually did it! That’s so… um cool… An achievement unlocked for sure!” He’s actually impressed by you.

You’ll not be at the same broom. Too dangerous for the both of you.

If you fall from a great height, he’ll probably panic, but will still be able to cast a spell to save you and make you land carefully on the ground. “Y-y-y-y-you okay?” He’s more scared than you. Once you assure him that you're fine, he’ll look sulky and be like: “This is like one of those traps for greedy players and none of us have high enough HP or AC for that!”

Coach Vargas chose him probably because he (like anyone) could tell that you two were close and feel comfortable with each other. Plus, he also being one of the best in class. Since he can also fly WITHOUT a broom.

He’ll try his best, but he will not be a good teacher. This because he flies instinctively. And it's hard to teach someone how to do something when you just… do it.

That and he will probably past more time admiring you and your effort and talking about humans not being able to fly and other subjects that actually teach you. He’ll basically forget you two are still on a class.

When you fail, he'll not think much of it. After all, you’re a human who doesn’t know how to fly and you don’t have magic. In fact, he's more expecting you to fail that you succeed. (“No, really, you’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about. I wasn´t expecting anything from you to start with.” Remember?)

When you succeed at an exercise, he’ll be surprised. A good kind of surprised, despite if he trying to express it, would not sound so congratulative. More like: for a human with no magic that was indeed impressive. And of course, he will be smiling with proud at you.

If you are on the same broom for him to make a demonstration, he will be behind you with his hands on yours. To show you how to control the broom? Maybe. But maybe more just because he wanted to be this close to you, like his hugging you. He’s also behind you because is the best way to protect you as well.

If you fall from a great height… what great height? No matter how high you would fly, he will be right next to you. In or out his broom. If you fall from your broom, he’ll catch you right there. It will feel more like a fall from the bed. And he will be enjoying you safe on his arms maybe too much. “Um… you can put me back on my broom now, Tsunotarou… I’m fine, I promise.” With him, you will be the one blushing.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

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strawberry-whorecake · 9 months

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Good Girl | K.R.

pairing: Kylo Ren x fem!reader

summary: Kylo had something you needed… just like he always did. So you found yourself sneaking around Starkiller Base for the satisfaction of your urges.

word count: 1.9k

warnings: swearing, dirty talk, unprotected sex, oral sex (male receiving), PinV sex, praise

a/n: holy shit- can i just say thank you for all the interaction i’ve been getting on my fics-?? i’m genuinely floored, i was just writing and posting these for my own self-indulgence but it means literally so much that you guys have been enjoying them omg. since you enjoyed kylo so much last time heres a small lil smut in means of my appreciation <3

What the fuck were you doing?!

You rushed down the halls ducking around corners, peering for a sign of any wanderers on Starkiller Base. You were terrified of being caught, but your impulse to sneak out of your quarters and into the Commander’s came strong and suddenly.

Metallic footprints drew closer in front of you, eliciting a gasp from your throat which you quickly entrapped with the clasp of your hand as you ducked into an unseen corner. The footsteps neared– then faded, finally vanishing as you watched the Stormtrooper disappear from sight.

That was fucking close… so why were you doing this again?

Your urges got the best of you, and now you were creeping around the base because it was well into the late hours of the night– or arguably the early hours of the morning, and Kylo had something you needed… just like he always did.

You waited around the corner for another couple seconds to make sure no one else would come around, and to your relief the halls were void, so you continued on your journey to the Commander’s chambers.

As you walked you scrutinized yourself, questioning how you’d fallen into the face of this predicament in the first place. You were a meer engineer, assigned to working on ships that flew in and out of the base.

You recalled your first meeting with Kylo Ren, and how he immediately captivated and terrified you– and he of course knew, and played into. Somehow this thing had bloomed between you two, and you weren’t particularly interested in snuffing out its flame any time soon.

After a while of stalking around with your guard up to not be caught, you reached his door.

Glancing over your shoulders for any wanderers, you cursed yourself– no one was permitted in Kylo’s quarters without his direct permission, of course the halls would be void.

You shook your head and quickly inputted the code to his lock system, listening to the metal doors reluctantly squeal open only seconds later.

Dipping inside you peered around, his neat and orderly chambers were dark, and your eyes found his bed– found him, sleeping on one side.

You watched the doors close behind you as you slipped off your shoes, leaving them in the doorway. Slowly you crept through his room, approaching his bed. As you drew nearer you pulled your top over your head before crawling in next to him.

Your heart thumped wildly in your chest. Kylo was unpredictable– you had no way of knowing if he would be pleased with your appearance, or if he’d Force-throw you out of his chambers. Sure, he’d granted you permission to his quarters, under the premise he was in them, but how would he react to you waking him up?

Swallowing down your nerves, you gently caressed his cheek with your finger, which made him inhale deeply and stir despite still being asleep.

Taking hold of his cheek you led his lips to yours, kissing him. When his lips met your own his eyes fluttered open slowly. At first his kiss was confused but it rather quickly grew hot and rough.

Without tearing your mouth from his you gently pushed him onto his back and climbed on top of him. He pulled away only for a moment, just to take you in– and he smirked before pulling your face into his and kissing you hungrily.

His tongue twisted fervidly with yours, hot, sloppy, open-mouthed kisses and soft sounds of already growing pleasure leaked from your lips. When he pulled back again, his plush pink lips glistened with the mix of your saliva.

“I missed this.” he growled and warmth developed as you felt him grow hard beneath you.

His kisses trailed from your lips down your jawline before they landed on your neck, sucking and nibbling at your skin.

A moan escaped from your throat despite trying to suppress it by clenching your teeth to your lip. You pulled away from him and lowered yourself to his abdomen, kissing his exposed stomach and upper pelvis.

Your eyes looked up pleadingly as you pulled down his boxers, and he only hummed in response.

You licked your lips, building up wetness in your mouth as you took him in your hand, gently placing a kiss to his tip.

Despite barely touching him, you knew how much he missed you by the bead of precum already dripping from him.

Running your tongue along his base, you then placed him in your mouth, drawing in your cheeks and sucking at his length until you pulled a groan from his throat.

He instinctively grabbed the back of your head, pushing himself deeper into your mouth, and making you gag lightly on his cock.

You looked up, watching as he smirked. “Good girl.” he cooed.

You caressed his skin as you swallowed him. “Fuck…” he let his dark waves crash against his pillow as he threw his head back. His brow furrowed lightly as his eyes fluttered shut. One of his hands still gripped your head while the other folded behind his own head.

He looked incredible like this, the blinking stars gently illuminating him in a soft glow from the window positioned behind his bed. The muscles in his arms rippling as he let himself enjoy what you had to offer him, the sight of him quickly reminded you of why you risked coming to his quarters in the first place.

His pleasure made you eager to keep going, and the arousal flooding between your own legs was increasingly difficult to ignore. You couldn’t wait any longer to have him as you slipped off of him and stripped yourself of the rest of your clothing, leaving yourself bare for him.

You ignored the warmth that flooded to your cheeks as he looked you over, his stature relaxed with his arm still casually placed behind his head.

You pulled at his boxers, removing them from his legs before disregarding them to the floor with your clothes. Crawling back on top of him you took him once more in your hand as you led him inside you.

Although this was farthest from your first time with Kylo, you would never be prepared for his size.

Your mouth gaped as he entered you, squirming atop him as you worked to adjust to his size as he split you to the seam. He only chuckled as he watched you, but after a few moments you began riding him, dragging your hips against his.

He moaned as you lowered yourself further onto him, his cock delving deeper into you. His arms wrapped around your frame and flipped you onto your back.

He leveled himself up by placing one hand on the bed beside your head as the other gripped harshly at your throat. A soft gasp managed to escape from your slack lips and he loosened his grip– just slightly.

His own impatience took over as he pushed into you, not holding back. You whimpered at the sudden force and reached up for his arm clamped around your neck for something to hold onto.

He smirked, shaking your hands off of him as he quickly caught them with both of his own and pinned them above your head before kissing you deeply and with need.

He withdrew himself only to thrust back in, creating a pattern as he did so. His pace quickened as he swapped your pinned wrists to one hand, letting his now free hand find your chest, kneading and toying with your breasts. His thumb flicked at your bud making you mewl out again.

You wiggled out of his grip, which he let you, and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling his body closer to you.

He pounded into you faster, then slower, then harder– all rather quickly. His cock stroked your walls, cockhead prodding against that sweet spot that made your stomach churn in the best possible way.

“Fuck... Ah- Kylo-” you groaned as you felt him pummeling against your core, tangling your legs around his waist. Your moans only continued to please him, proud of himself at how easily he could make you moan for him. He seized a handful of your hair into his fist and tugged slightly.

Wrapping your arms around his broad back you pulled him deeper into you, and he didn’t hold back. He rocked his body back and forth with yours, you both synced in sin.

The only sounds that filled the room were Kylo’s stuttered breaths, your moans, and the obscene sounds of skin slapping skin.

He grabbed for your throat and pulled you into a steamy kiss, his tongue pushing past your teeth before dancing with yours.

With every thrust inside you, you could feel yourself growing tighter as your walls clenched together, holding back euphoria. “Sh-shit- Kylo…” you mewled rather pathetically.

In a hushed tone he growled, “Beg.”

He fucked deeper into you than you thought was possible by now. “Kylo please I-” your words were cut off by a moan that was pulled from your throat at a particularly hasty thrust. You didn’t know how much longer you could take.

“I said beg, slut.” he growled again.

He could feel you drawing you in, your walls growing claustrophobic around him, and he knew you were close, so he kept going.

Quickening his pace, he placed your chin in his hand making you look at him while you pleaded.

He glared into your eyes, then let his gaze drift to your perfectly parted lips as he mouthed the word “Beg” once more.

Giving out you finally cried, “Please! Let me cum, Kylo-!” your mouth gaped, words straining out. Your eyes were barely open but remained locked on his.

Kylo let his tongue dart past his own slightly parted lips, wetting them as he stared down at you, desperate and begging.

He knew you didn’t have long before you had reached your limit, whether he wanted to deprive you of that or not, so he let you have it.

“Good girl.” He hunched over so his lips just barely touched your ear as he whispered, “Now cum for me.”

He himself didn’t have much longer with the way your velveteen walls stroked him with every buck of his hips. His pace was frantic as he slammed into you, watching the way your brows knit and you panted and moaned past your lips.

His lips trailed down your neck, leaving bites and kisses as he made his way to your collarbone– the cherry on top. You clung to him as you tightened around him, reaching your high in a pathetic array of moans.

Your vision faded out and shockwaves of electricity bolted through your nerves as you came around him, your walls milking him deliciously. He let out a groan of his own as his head lolled forward and he gripped your hips, pulling you down onto his cock.

With a final groan you felt your cunt flood with warmth as he came inside you, still driving his hips into yours.

His movements slowed, then stilled, and he pulled out of you with a grunt before laying down beside you. He pulled you close and coddled you through your finish. Your knees were lightly trembling which brought a smile to his face.

You buried your face into his chest as he let his fingers caress your skin before planting a kiss on your forehead, making your heart thump against your ribcage.

“Such a good girl.” he purred before placing a gentle kiss on your lips, “My good girl.”

Your face grew hot. The tone of his voice and his words alone made your heart skip a beat.

You were Commander Ren’s good girl.

#adam driver #adcu #adcu smut #adcu x reader #smut #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren smut #star wars smut #kylo ren x you #kylo ren #whorecake fics

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avoxrising · 5 months

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The Feral One • Ch 15

Finnick x Y/N

Series Masterlist Link

The plot thickens…

Content Warnings - Boggs kills the mood

“Do you really want me to?” he purrs, stepping closer to you. You were sitting on the edge of his bed, looking up at him mischievously.

“Well that depends,” you hum. “Do you love me?”

His lips are on yours before you know it. Despite being in love for years, this was the first time you’d had physical contact of this sort, and damn, you should have done this sooner. Why hadn’t you done this sooner?

He finally pulls away after a few moments, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Always,” he replied.

“Do you love me?” he asks, kissing along your neck.

“Yes idiot!” you exclaim. “Are you that oblivious?”

“You’ve been spending too much time around Johanna,” he laughs, giddy at your confession.

“Shut up,” you state, pulling his lips back onto yours.

His hands roam your waist as yours toy with the buttons on his jumpsuit. The moment heats up and you can tell where this is headed, but his watch buzzes, killing the mood.

“We’ll have to finish this later,” he sighs, checking his watch. “I’m needed in command before dinner and you are needed back in your room.”

“Ugh, fine,” you reply. “But we will be finishing this later.”

And finish it you did, spending the next afternoon making out on Finnick’s bed. He seemed hesitant, however, to take it any further with you.

“Why don’t you want to have sex with me?” you ask him as he pulls away again. He’s a bit shocked by your question.

“I just think it’s not something to rush into,” he explains. “And I didn’t think you wanted to because of what happened before.” You see him wince at the mention of this previous event which only confuses you more.

“What happened before?” you ask, sitting up.

“Your victory tour…” he replies. “The night in the capital.”

“We never had sex in the capital,” you tell him, still confused as to what he’s talking about.

“No we did not,” he confirms. “Do you seriously not remember?”

“I cannot think of anything you could be referring to,” you respond. You had no clue what he was talking about.

“Forget it then,” he says, trying to drop the subject. “I just don’t think we’re at that point yet.”

“Fine,” you pout. “What were you referring to though?”

“It’s nothing,” he says, shaking his head as he avoids eye contact. “It’s probably best not to remind you.”

He was jealous that you could forget the worst night of your life, while he had to constantly relive all of his.

“Finnick and I had the best idea!” you announce as you waltz into command, Finnick following behind you. The two of you had come to a sort of compromise last night that may fix your living situation.

“And what might that be?” Plutarch asks.

“So you won’t let us live together because we aren’t married, right?” you state. Coin mutters a quick “yes” before you continue. “And you guys need more stuff for your propos…”

The two adults just stare at you, unsure of what’s going to be suggested.

“So… we thought of a compromise,” you explain. “We will let you film a fake wedding of us here in 13 if you let us live together. It will not be legally binding but it can appear real enough on camera so people who see it outside of this bunker believe it.”

“What do you think?” Plutarch asks Coin.

“You two still wouldn’t be able to live together as you are not legally married in 13,” she states.

“Oh my god it’s not like we’re going to make any babies!” you exclaim, causing Finnick to cringe. “We literally just want to be roommates, like we have been for nearly 6 years.”

“I like the idea,” Plutarch shrugs, looking over at Coin. “It would definitely be good footage.”

“Fine but I have some caveats to the arrangement,” Coin relents. “Firstly, Miss Y/L/N must still attend regular checkups with our doctors as well as follow an assigned daily schedule like the rest of the district. Mr. Odair must actually follow his schedule and will commence combat training with the other victors.”

“Deal,” you smile.

The district is a buzz with the news of a wedding. You receive congratulations from many people, most of whom you’ve never met, and confused faces from the victors. They knew you two liked each other but what changed?

“You’re engaged?” Johanna asks, nearly choking on her water.

“Fake engaged,” you clarify. “We made a deal with Plutarch that he can film our fake wedding for a propo if Coin lets us be roommates.”

“I see,” Johanna sighs.

“Why don’t you guys just actually get married?” she asks. “It’s gonna happen with you two eventually.”

“Finnick doesn’t want to,” you reply. “He says marriage is something you do because you love someone, not because you want to be roommates.”

“Ugh men,” she groans. “You mean to tell me he doesn’t realize that the two of you are in love?”

“No we’ve established that already,” you explain. “He just doesn’t want to rush into anything.”

“What do you want?” she asks.

“Him,” you respond. “He’s being weird though. The other day I asked him why he didn’t want to do anything past making out with me and he said it’s cause of my victory tour but literally nothing out of the ordinary happened on my victory tour so I’m super confused and he wouldn’t explain it to me and told me to drop the subject.”

Johanna looks at you in shock and you can’t help but get the feeling that everyone knows something you don’t.

“Do you have any idea what he’s talking about?” you ask her.

“Uh if you don’t remember then I don’t think I should remind you,” she responds. Before you can ask her what the hell everyone was hiding from you she suddenly turns serious.

“What did they do to you in the capital?” she asks. “Like what did your treatment include?”

You are a bit taken aback by her change in subject but respond anyways.

“They, um, would take me to a room down the hall and make me sit down in a chair while they gave me some medications,” you respond. “They said they had been recently approved by the capital to treat ptsd and other illnesses I was suffering from. The medicine would make me super sleepy but outside of that I felt fine. I can’t exactly pinpoint when it started working but I know that once it did I felt so much better that I had ever have before.”

“Did they tell you what was in the medicine?” Johanna asks, concerned. “Or what it was called?”

“Nope,” you shrug. “I questioned it at first but after a few dosages I stopped questioning what I was taking because it made me feel better.”

“I think you should tell your doctor about the medicine and treatment,” Johanna tells you. “Something doesn’t feel right.”

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@randomgurl2326 @mystargirl-interlude @uther-pendragon-is-an-ass @yourdailymemedelivery @americanprometheuss @l3xi3luv @noisyalmonddreamer @nordicvxid @teaganthemorningstar @samatokisunfinishedcigarette @justtrying2getby @heytherellala @notplutos @innercreationflower @nexxus13 @kachelleee @helluvafire @haymitchabernathyslover @memeorydotcom @frostsword @meri-soni-meri-tamanna @giverosespls @honethatty12 @just-levyy @dd122004dd @nekee-lilac02 @impeterporker @nox-the-gay-nerd @redsakura101 @hopefulatrocity @eddiemunson4ever @fangirlvibez @kittimbo @zucchinimalfoy @sleepy-roman @secretsicanthideanymore @writerofadream @vsnrly @mayonesavegana @lilifl0wer @finnickodaddy @abbersreads @fox-bee926 @ginger-swag-rapunzel @isasalom

*if the tag didn’t work please check your settings to make sure other blogs can tag you

#hunger games #finnick odair #hunger games fic #the hunger games #finnick odair x reader #finnick x reader #finnick odair smut #the feral one #mockingjay #finnick #finnick smut

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mixelation · 3 months

Text

oh yeah i wrote this last night

“No,” Shisui said, flatly. “Absolutely not.”

He still maintained his proper at ease pose, feet apart and arms folded behind his back. It was a stark contrast to his rather blatant words.

“I recognize you have a very… strong interpersonal relationship,” Minato said carefully. “But like all our shinobi, Tori knows how to behave professionally when on missions.”

“With all due respect,” Shisui replied, “if she wasn’t a problem, you could hand her to any other captain.”

Minato’s lips thinned. He had wasted so many years believing Tori was the most personable member of Team 4, and now look what he and Kushina had allowed her to become. Now that he needed to temporarily pull a fuinjutsu master for ANBU, it was becoming clear she’d somehow ended up on the shit list of several key ANBU members. She was as bad as Itachi in terms of reputation, except she had to clout within ANBU to command respect.

He could just put Kushina on this mission, but her personality was wildly unsuited for ANBU. Tori was theoretically a much better pick. She could be incredibly discreet when she wanted to be.

Shisui’s dark eyes watched him, waiting for a reply. Unlike any member of Team 4, Shisui was not openly judging him for his decisions, or the fact that he’d just let Tori piss off half of ANBU and done nothing to intervene.

“Uchiha Itachi recommended you,” Minato said finally. “He believes your skills would complement, and that despite your differences, you would be able to read each other well, despite never having run a mission together.”

He could tell Shisui was fighting hard to not react, like a good ANBU.

“Perhaps Itachi should captain this mission then,” Shisui said finally. “They have an excellent mission record together.”

“You know I can’t assign them together,” Minato replied.

In theory, he could, because he could do whatever he wanted as Hokage. But now that they were dating, he didn’t want to throw them together into a high-stakes mission until after they’d had some trainings on workplace romances and run a few easier missions together, if they wanted to explore that. Romantic feelings and missions could be a disaster for both the mission and the relationship.

(Kushina would be so upset if they broke up.)

Shisui took a deep breath.

“If you force this,” Shisui said, steely eyed, “I will consider resigning from ANBU.”

Wow, Minato thought. He hadn’t thought they’d disliked each other this much.

“I will take your opinion into consideration,” Minato said, and then dismissed him.

Minato distracted himself with some more mission assignments for an hour, but he inevitably came back around to the Tori problem.

The unfortunate truth of the situation was that he did have to build an ANBU team around her, rather than carefully pull the best agents from a range of different candidates.

The mission was a rare invitation from the Water Country Daimyo. He wanted a certain political enemy eliminated, but all three of Kiri’s own attempts to assassinate the mark had failed, because the mark had somehow turned his home into a maze of fuinjutsu barriers and traps. So the Daimyo wanted Konoha to infiltrate, kill only the mark and his two partners, and also not leave any evidence a foreign ninja had done this so he didn’t have to explain anything to the Mizukage.

The fuuinjutsu requirement, along with baseline ANBU requirements, meant literally only Kushina and Tori could reliably do this, and Kushina was horrible at being subtle.

Could he maybe move the mission out of ANBU and widen his pool of other teammates…? No, it really had to be ANBU.

What if he just did the mission?

Kakashi walked into the office to find Minato with both hands in his hair, glaring at the current ANBU roster. ANBU Jaguar would be perfect for this, actually, except Tori had brought Jaguar to Book Club the time Bounty Hunter Kakuzu had inexplicably shown up.

“Have you also been speaking to genin?” Kakashi asked, dropping a folder onto Minato’s desk.

Minato stared up at him helplessly. That was right; he’d asked for the newest Jounin Sensei to turn in their six month report on their genin teams in a tad early so they could discuss entering them in the Chunin Exams this round.

Team 7 must have really done a whammy on Kakashi if he was the first to turn his in.

“ANBU is sort of like speaking to children,” Minato said, and Kakashi dropped into a seat across from him to listen to him whine.

“Just make Itachi deal with her,” Kakashi said when Minato finished. “Or are you afraid their relationship will turn them into a vortex of toxic behavior likes of which ANBU has never seen?”

“Something like that,” Minato replied. He absently picked up a pen and jotted down a note to himself to tell them they had to do workplace romance training so he never had to deal with this again.

Then Minato said, “I really thought Shisui was a good fit. They’re not friendly, but they’re civil at Book Club.”

“Ah, it’s because Shisui is intimately aware she’s a manipulative little monster,” Kakashi said. He settled back further in his chair and crossed his legs. “He used to get weird about having to work with Itachi too.”

Minato sighed and tapped his fingers on the desk. He should have a conversation with Tori about being more pleasant. Except if he used that wording both she and, more importantly, Kushina would yell at him about being anti-feminist because… something something women were expected to be kind and gentle where men weren’t.

He just wanted her to not use her teammates as psych experiments…

“Hey,” Minato said, eyeing Kakashi up and down. “Do you want a break from your genin?”

Kakashi, currently fiddling with a pen, froze.

“It’ll only be a couple weeks,” Minato said. “I’ll stick them with someone else and tell them it’s an evaluation for candidacy to the Chunin Exam.”

Kakshi looked less than convinced.

“I of course enjoy my cute little ninja sibling,” Kakashi said very slowly. “But only in my personal time. When there’s other people to point her at.”

Minato could force the issue and just assign Kakashi to the mission. But he was trying so hard to get people to get along on their own. That was his philosophy as Hokage.

Of course, sometimes people just didn’t want to get along, and then he had to use other tactics.

“I’ll get you Jiraiya’s current manuscript,” Minato offered. “And just think: it’ll be really, really funny.”

Kakashi looked more considering.

xXx

Tori stared down at the mask on the desk. Her eyes rose, meeting MInato’s. They had a certain dewey quality to them that almost made him feel bad.

“Why would you do this to me?” Tori asked, sounding betrayed.

“Wow,” Kakashi said, putting a hand on a hip. He was a nostalgic sight, in full ANBU uniform again. “Usually people are overjoyed to work with me.”

Tori made a face like she didn’t believe this.

“It’s just like any other mission,” Minato assured her. “Just with a couple extra rules.”

Tori reached hesitantly for the mask.

“If you make me ANBU Songbird,” she said, turning it over in her hands, “I am going missing-nin.”

“So,” Minato said blandly, “a stricter behavior code is part of your temporary ANBU assignment–”

“Maa, it’s a Nightingale,” Kakashi interrupted, completely undermining Minato lecture on how he should technically give Tori several demerits and send her off to a psych eval for her joke. “Which I believe is a songbird. Suborder Passeri, right?”

Kakashi had definitely looked this up beforehand, specifically for this.

“Why would you do this to me?” Tori repeated.

“I was being sensitive,” Minato defended. “You went on for a very long time about your ancestor Nightingale, and it was available.”

Tori stared at him, clearly confused.

“The statistician?” he tried.

“Florence Nightingale?” Tori said, sounding mildly scandalized. “She’s not my ancestor!”

Minato could have sworn Deidara had referred to this Nightingale person as “one of Tori’s people” to explain the strange given name. Maybe he hadn’t meant she was part of Tori’s family after all…?

“No one gets to choose their own mask,” Minato said, backtracking. “I try to allow people to turn down temp ANBU assignments, but we really don’t have anyone else with the required skillset.”

Tori scowled down at the mask some more. Minato would at least hear her out, if she decided to give an actual argument for not wanting to run an ANBU mission, but she didn’t offer one up.

“Maa, I’ll try to fill the rest of the team with people you haven’t personally harassed,” Kakashi said. “Although that’s not a long list…”

Tori held the mask up to her face experimentally, then pulled it away.

“Do you sterilize these between uses?” she asked.

“Yes, of course,” Minato said. “But, um, that one’s been in storage for years. I’d clean it again.”

“Don’t worry, my cute little sister,” Kakashi drawled, “I will teach you in the way of mask hygiene.”

Tori shot Minato another pained, betrayed look.

“He means that as your captain, he’ll brief you on how this works,” Minato said. He almost reassured Tori that Kakashi really was one of their best. But she already knew that.

Kakashi swung an arm around her shoulder and walked her out, listing tips for cleaning her mask and borrowed armor as he went.

Minato watched them go with conflicting emotions. Kakashi and Tori… made each other behave worse, in public. It was heartwarming when he looked at them as young people he’d mentored: their mutual interests brought each other out of their shells and they enjoyed each other’s company. It was also kind of a nightmare when he thought of them as soldiers under his command. He trusted both of them to reel it in once the mission started, but Tori’s orientation would almost definitely end with more names on the list of ANBU Tori had personally harassed.

Ah well. It would be character building for whoever they ended up harassing.

#reborn au #my writing

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 6 months

Note

5k is so deserved! I constantly go back and reread your works and am always looking forward to what’s next ❤️❤️❤️

I’ve been having thoughts about a Hesh x femreader reunion request thats similar to your latest Keegan piece. Except reader was childhood friends with the Walker boys, but despite there being feelings between Hesh and reader they’re scared of confessing because of their friendship. they get separated when Odin happens, and both join the military and reunite during a joint Op with the Ghosts and readers team, and even after 10 years their feelings resurface and finally get together.

Can’t wait to see what you’ll write for all the requests!!

—To The Boy of My Childhood

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [Ten years came and went fast, but the memory of the Walker boys stayed. One more than the other. You never got to tell him you loved him.] ❞

You remembered his kindness, above all. His big, pure, heart. Hesh wasn’t just someone you grew to know and then threw out like a pair of old socks, no, he was too good for that—a mix of playful boyishness and the makes of a fine man. You wished you could have told him how much he meant to you before it all just fell apart.

Growing up near the Walker boys was a treat and a curse, not for yourselves, but for the adults—no one got in the way of you three. Late nights in the backyard, laughter keeping everyone up into the small hours. The fights and the near-instantaneous make-ups.

The older years of deep-rooted attraction to the green-eyed boy of your youth.

David Hesh Walker had been everything you had ever wanted, and even when the ground shook and the word split, you still couldn’t tell him how you felt. But fate had plans for the two of you—it was only a matter of time.

Ten years, to be exact.

You jump down from the helo, your knees taking the brunt of the weight from your gear as your team follows. Fort Santa Monica was a bustling stronghold right on the door of Federation occupation—enemies stalking like animals beyond the wall for a glimpse of weakness. The men and women here were anything but.

“On me!” You call out behind you, and the resounding rush of booted feet follows as you all move out along the helicopter pad swiftly. The unit you were assigned was given a simple task—assist the commanding Captain here and his men with wall defense to reduce the amount of casualties.

Over the ten years of war, you’d honed yourself into something akin to a walking weapon. Found deliriously surviving in the remnants of the USA, your rage and anger gave you the skills you needed to still be alive when the soldiers found you; brought you back to civilization. It hadn’t taken much for you to sign up after that, thinking Hesh and his brother were dead.

Hesh. God, you had loved him so much that the feeling hadn’t dimmed in the slightest even now. Being so close to home once more made you feel…strange.

“Lieutenant!” One of the soldiers comes up to greet you all, shouting above the whir of blades—he was an older man with a shaved head and a large beard. “Welcome to Santa Monica!”

“Good to be here!” You call, a rifle hanging heavy on your chest. “Where do you need us, Sir?”

“Fall in, I’m bringin’ you to Scarecrow!” So you follow, leaving the sandy beach of the port and heading into the dense streets. There were civilians in this Fort, you knew, just beyond the checkpoint of fences. You have to wonder how they felt about this—trapped in a rat cage with the water and the war clamping to them tightly.

“Heard your unit was well-known.” You’d learned the man’s name was Thomas Merrick—a Captain here. You blink at him, head tilting. “Scarecrow was eager to get you here, can’t say why.”

“I was told you needed support at the wall, Captain,” you explain, brows furrowing. “Were my superiors mistaken?”

Merrick's brown eyes stare at you as you walk beside him, your men all speaking to one another from behind.

“No,” is all you’re told.

This ‘Scarecrow’ was known as only that, and your lips thin at the comment leveled at you. Strange.

Your other men are shown their barracks, and you send them off to get rid of their packs and belongings while you continue on with Merrick to the control room—eager to meet this Captain and get real answers.

When you get there, the second you push open the door and Merrick takes his leave, you’re greeted by one of the old faces that you could recognize anywhere.

You freeze just three feet into the room, locking eyes with this mythical ‘Scarecrow’ but it wasn’t some great war strategist, at least, not as you know him.

“Mr. Walker?” You pause, blinking in confusion. Elias Walker—Hesh and Logan’s dad. Your heart constricts in your chest.

He looks at you, a small smile on his stern face as his arms crossed, nodding his head.

“Thought I recognized that name in my request for transfers.”

“Holy shit,” you breathe, a grin breaking out over your face for the first time in ages. Part of you wanted to race and hug him—bathe in the comfort that his rare soft looks would bring you when you were younger…but you weren’t that kid anymore. Being alive was enough, and with the things you’d seen, it meant far more than anything else. Elias seemed to share that sentiment, as he walked over and put a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it.

“How did…how are…” Your head shakes quickly, memories flooding back along with the pain. But there, in your chest, a flicker of hope—something more blooming back to life. “Logan?” Your voice is tiny, pleading as you pause, gazing into Elias’s eyes. “...Hesh?”

“I already called ‘em back in. They’ll be here soon.” He gives you a proud nod. “I’m glad you’re still here, Sweetheart.”

You laugh, smile wobbling.

Alive. Hesh was alive.

Every wall you’d built falls the second boyish laughter echoes out from the halls. You turn, hearing feet move down the floor, closer and closer as your body stills like a statue.

Alive.

When a shoulder pushes open the door, you stop breathing as a far older David enters the room, Logan, as always, not far behind.

He’s mature now, with a beanie over his short brown hair and the presence of a grown man holding down responsibilities—he was smirking back and his brother, saying in a voice that haunts your dreams, “Think we should tell him what Riley found today, Logan?”

The younger brother stops short, locks eyes with you, and his body goes as tight as a fishing line.

Hesh’s brows furrow. “Logan?” He turns to you and those green eyes go confused for a moment, lips going thin. It’s a flash of recognition that re-ignites them—a flicker of something long past before they snap wide with fierce realization.

Blinking quickly, the man watches you, hands at his sides jerking forward by a millimeter as if to grab for you at even a single glance. No one speaks for a long, long time, and maybe you don’t want them to. Hesh and you are locked in a look of pure pain and elation—a dance of life and death.

There aren’t any words for it beyond the sudden mad scramble for the other’s hold.

You collide in a sharp breath and a hand to the back of your head—keeping you to him as you both grasp for purchase; for a glimpse of your childhood back.

“Jesus Christ,” Hesh breathes, anchoring you to him as his chest sputters. “Oh my fucking God.”

“Hesh,” you whimper through a sobbing laugh. “You son of a bitch, I should throttle you.”

He scoffs wetly into your ear, hands quivering and voice cracking.

“Me? If I remember, Doll, you were the one to take that tumble down the hill—I…I tried to find you, y’know that? I swear, I didn’t want to leave but I—”

You pull back and slam your lips to his.

It was far better than an ‘I love you’ when he melted and grappled you closer.

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s4toryuu · 7 months

Text

inumaki headcanons — 1

notes: bc im losing it and i love toge too much.. also numbered for future masterlist because there will be multiple hcs!! —also not x reader bc not everyones into that but truuust next hc will be x reader

part 2

he mostly communicates through notes app and signing but since it’s annoying to pull up every time he just resorts to body language and signaling to things

he knows that he can probably say a lot of words but he’s too scared ever since some kind of incident in his childhood

he can definitely say other nouns but when he says people’s names, that person automatically anticipates a command or smth so he just refrains from saying anyones name

despite him being a troll, there’s definitely a side to him that wishes people took him more seriously

he can type like 150wpm due to it being his only straight way of communication LMAO

texts with chronically online slang

absolute menace outside of assignments and school (see: maki’s skirt incident)

kind of likes that his onigiri language can piss people off

can’t lose arguments

really fcking funny on tw1tter and on his ig spam

like he’s actually hilarious and probably has a couple thousand followers

he doesn’t tweet a lot or post a lot but when he does it’s stupidly funny and genius wit

his hair looks a little like back it did when he was a first year when he wakes up in the morning

I feel like he’d like hot chocolate idk he just looks cozy all the time and I associate it with hot choco

his body temp runs on the warmer side

he’s a twice fan idc I don’t make the rules

has never once used his cursed speech for malice

at least not for anything serious

like he definitely got free candy or something when he was little from a candy store, “give me free candy” idk

he’s one of those “sigh.. this generation” people who say that whenever they’re out and everyone’s on their phones

but actually it’s just cuz he likes spending time with his friends so he wants everyone to be present

he just mutters “okakaaa” with a sigh and dramatically rolls his eyes while him and the second years wait for their food in mcdonalds

maki’s like “what now” and he points to their phones and mocks how they’re sitting like capital Cs

more soon!

— reqs [open]

#𝘴𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺𝘶𝘶’𝘴 #love a man who stfu #new blog #I’ll get everything set up I promise #just needed this out there #inumaki toge #jjk #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #headcanon #jjk headcanons #fluff #inumaki headcanons #jjk inumaki

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epiphyllous · 3 months

Text

when morning comes (Astarion/Reader) [3]

Astarion understands Ketheric Thorm more than he realizes. For what are they both if not selfish, foolish men willing to do everything to keep what is theirs? (Astarion begins to think he does not deserve you.)

Word Count: ~9k Notes: Astarion/Reader, Paladin!Reader, AFAB, gender-neutral "you", following Astarion romance route in his POV + my hc/additional scenes, [switches to your POV], annoyance to lovers, fall first/fall harder, mutual pining, Wyll/Karlach, implied Wyll/Reader [Part 2]

[Act II: Moonrise Towers]

Getting into Moonrise was almost too easy. It is a relatively stressless trip if not for the grand introduction of Ketheric Thorm. The man truly is invulnerable, walking up the steps of the tower without care after being killed twice right before their eyes. It is no wonder Moonrise follows his command, convinced of his authority as the Absolute's chosen.

It is equally as easy to convince Moonrise that they are all willing followers of the Absolute. Z'rell is the only person they truly had to demonstrate loyalty to, but Astarion watches you display just enough cruelty to the goblins to prove your place.

“Your lust for the neck pricker is succulent,” she suddenly says, eyes turning to him. Astarion looks to you in question, only to see you glance away in mild embarrassment. “It almost makes me want to take a bite out of him myself.”

“Enough,” you say, clearing your throat. “Surely you know by now we're loyal to the cause?”

She does, or she says as much when she assigns them a mission to help Balthazar get the artifact responsible for Ketheric Thorm's immortality. Astarion doesn't really know the details, not caring much to pay attention when he already understands the gist of it involves killing someone. Besides, he is more interested in what exactly Z'rell saw in your thoughts. If only to tease you about your ‘succulent lust’ for him, he means to bring it up the first chance he gets.

You must realize this, because you take your time exploring Moonrise Towers and keeping them all preoccupied. Gale manages to get blessed for the first time in what seems like forever by his goddess when he rids of the foul Netherese magic circle in Balthazar's chambers. Karlach gets her chance to pet the undead guard dog in Ketheric's private quarters, and you keep him preoccupied with all the chests they have to unlock.

Astarion gets an opportunity to talk after they find Melodia Thorm's room and the letters she gave to her husband, but he finds you solemn in thought at the discovery, so he decides (for once) to leave you be for now.

Then they meet Araj Oblodra, and the thought completely leaves his head.

He barely resists the urge to cover his nose for how foul her blood smells. He manages to smile rather than grimace when they first greet her, though he finds his efforts wasted when she sets her eyes on him to be bitten. Astarion can't imagine something he would want to do less.

When the drow asks if he ‘belongs’ to you, Astarion watches as you frown. "Astarion can answer for himself just fine," you say. "He's his own person."

It is almost adorable how disconcerted you look when the drow continues on, as if you can't quite understand why anyone would think you could own him. Astarion finds it annoyingly familiar though, the way he is viewed as something lesser without needs or preferences. Your easy agreement to his own autonomy is... refreshing. He has known your proclivity for all things good and fair, but to have you display it in full for his sake, Astarion feels touched.

“I will have to decline,” he tells her with a stiff smile.

The blood dealer bristles, not expecting his response, and he begins to feel uneasy despite himself. “Excuse me? This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and you're squandering it.”

Astarion nearly bares his fangs in response. “I gave you my answer,” he hisses, and in the corner of his eyes, he sees you shift, stepping closer to him. The unease at refusing the offer dissipates knowing you are there to support him, even when the drow becomes increasingly displeased.

“Can't you talk sense into your obstinate charge?” Araj demands, and you quip her with a short and sharp smile. That’s one he hasn’t seen in a while, Astarion thinks, forced civility wielded like a weapon against those who have found themselves on your bad side. Which you do have, to his past surprise. Astarion just never imagined that he would bear witness to someone landing themselves in it just because of the way they speak to him.

Astarion would be lying if he said he was not pleased.

"I don't really see why he needs to say yes,” you drawl. “I'm surprised he said no, to be honest."

Ugh, you are honest even in the worst of times.

"Sorry, one moment..." Amusement and exasperation battles in equal strength as he pulls you away just enough to speak to you privately. "Are you actually asking me to do this? Trading me for some potion?" He asks, though when he sees genuine confusion flit back into your expression, he confirms your question is out of curiosity not persuasion. You seem almost panicked at the thought of his suggestion being true.

"What? No," you reply back to him, alarmed. "I would never!” You desperately scramble to explain yourself. “I just thought you'd jump at the opportunity to bite people. I was, you know, just a little surprised.”

Funnily enough, you may have a point. A point that need not happen in front of an annoyed drow, but a point nonetheless. He could never truly fault you for being right, however inconvenient it is sometimes. (In the past, he would never have imagined he would feel this way about you.) "Well, yes, you aren't wrong,” he says, “but something smells off about her blood. I don't need to taste it to know it's going to be awful."

He shudders for good measure, and he sees your lips quirk up at his dramatics. He thinks briefly about how he has only known the taste of your blood, besides the time he was compelled to take a bite out of Gale because of a cursed frog. The drow's blood smells worse than his netherese poisoned blood, and in comparison, yours is almost sweet. Astarion finds himself elaborating without prompting. "Nothing that will kill me, but I'd rather not go through it if I don't have to."

You nod. "Okay,” you say easily, “if you don't want to, you don't have to.”

"Alright," Astarion replies automatically before his surprise can stop him. Just like that, he thinks, and he can make choices for himself just by how it makes him feel. It's rather novel. The realization is quite overwhelming, despite how simple you make it seem. He pauses, shooting you a quick smile-- or what he hopes is a smile. "Uh, thank you."

You only wave your hand at him and turn back to the drow with an unapologetic smile. He faces the drow with you and turns her down again, much to her immense displeasure.

You manage to lift Araj's moods somewhat when you offer up your blood for experimentation. Astarion isn't happy about the exchange, for who knows what the drow will do with your blood, but you seem genuinely curious enough about the whole concept. You get a flask made from your blood in return, which you give to him almost immediately.

“A gift,” you tell him. “Let me know what it does if you drink it.” A flicker of guilt comes and goes when he accepts it, and for a brief and endearing moment he thinks this may be a gesture made because of the misunderstanding earlier. He feels pleasantly surprised by how quickly you come to his defense and try to make amends when you think you have done him a disservice– as though his feelings mattered.

You tilt your head curiously. “Can you still smell my blood in the potion?”

Astarion opens up the flask and takes a look. In the bouquet of herbal scents, yes, he can identify your blood mixed in it. He rather thinks he is quite familiar with it, and it is a taste he can never get tired of.

He wants to thank you but finds that he has bigger things to be grateful for. He has never been shy of showing thanks, but what you've just done for him in front of Araj is too important to him for it to be said in passing.

At every chance you get, you make him feel... seen. Safe. He is his own person, vampirism be damned– a living being with his own thoughts and feelings, and you make it known to him and to everyone even if he himself cannot see it. Your goodness remains in the face of temptation, and you are unwavering in your beliefs when you believe it to be right. How does one even begin to thank you for not betraying his faith in you like that?

(What a fragile thing trust is, to be put to the breaking point at a single moment in time. What if you had demanded him to bite the drow, regardless of how he felt? If you had placed more value in the potion's abilities than in his own free will? He suspects his relationship with you would be unsalvageable. For some things may be forgiven–and he feels as though he would forgive many things for you–but he cannot afford to lose himself again, even to you.)

Astarion doesn't get a chance with you alone for a while, the party having moved on to trying to break the prisoners from Moonrise Towers. The tieflings– Rolan will absolutely hate the fact they will have saved Lia and Cal for him--and dark gnomes alike all wait in the prisons for the right time to hatch their plan. They are lucky to have them show up when they do and guide them out without a single trace. Astarion is almost disappointed that there wasn’t a fight to be had.

He waits until the freed gnomes and tieflings steer their way to Last Light Inn in the distance before he speaks with you. Water laps at the makeshift port the prisoners sailed from, and as Gale goes into the logistics of his mage hand magic to Karlach, he approaches you.

You look into the distance, beyond the point of where the Moonrise Tower's light can reach. When you turn to him, as if feeling his gaze, he feels a moment of déja vu.

"I wanted to thank you,” he tells you.

You look confused, glancing out into the dark before coming back to him, and he realizes perhaps you think he's somehow grateful for releasing the prisoners. Not a strange notion, but certainly what would be a first for him, considering who they saved. "For what?"

"For what you said whilst we were in front of that vile drow,” Astarion continues, finding himself more impassioned than he previously thought. “You could have asked me to throw myself at the drow, my feelings be damned.” He pauses for a moment to gather himself. “But you didn't, and I'm grateful."

Your response comes easily to you as it did before. "Of course.” You tell him, “I wouldn't want you to do something you don't want to.”

Your words are gentle, but they leave him feeling exposed. It's as though his chest has been opened and now you bear witness to what he has kept hidden for so long. He is by no means fragile, but it does not mean he is unaffected by how vulnerable he feels in the face of your unconditional acceptance.

"I admit it's a novel concept. A little intimidating.” Astarion stops again, musing over his words and willing for his voice to stop shaking. You wait patiently for him until he confesses, “For two hundred years, I used my body to lure pretty things back to my master. What I wanted, how I felt about what I was doing-- it never mattered. It would have been easy enough, honestly, to just bite her. Face a little disgust and move on from it like I did before."

“Astarion,” you begin softly, and he feels his neck prickle with an emotion unfamiliar to him: embarrassment. You pause then, finding the words you want to say. “I want you to keep telling me how you feel about things. I need to know what you're okay with and what you're not because,” and it is your turn to look abashed, “I don't always know what you want. I'm not the most observant person, and I would hate it if I accidentally made you do something you didn't want to do.” You breathe. “So, thank you, for telling me.”

“It's rather odd to hear you thank me,” he admits, and he unfurls fists he hadn't realized he was holding. He leaves it unsaid, how difficult it has been to be truthful to himself and to you. He isn't sure if he can remain so in the worst of times, but he knows this at least: he will continue to try.

He thinks it is the first time he has been given the chance to.

You make a face he would have laughed at if he were not so relieved. “I've said thank you to you before.”

“That is not what I mean, dear,” he replies dryly, and when he hears footsteps approach, he knows this conversation has reached its end. (An expert, Astarion carefully sews himself closed, though he leaves a stitch untethered so perhaps next time it will not be so hard to undo. The thought of being seen becomes less frightening when he knows it will be you.)

“Gale and I might've found something you might want to check out,” Karlach says, pointing behind her. “Looks rather nasty and sort of important.”

“Man, can we ever separate the importance from how disgusting it ends up being?” You bemoan, walking up to Karlach and easily accepting the arm she puts around your shoulder. “How gross?”

“Quite nasty, even to our standards,” Gale replies, grimacing. “I think that's saying quite a lot, considering our adventures so far.”

Astarion hears you mutter a small ‘ew’ under your breath and he huffs in laughter. “Well, as long as it involves blood and violence, I'm sure it won't be too terrible of an encounter,” he says.

Entering the adjacent bowels of an illithid colony threatens that viewpoint, but the rest of them are too preoccupied with their own thoughts to call Astarion out for it. All in good time, he thinks as he brushes off the organic bits off his clothes without drawing attention to himself.

Shadowheart is beside herself when they enter the Gauntlet of Shar. As one of the only and largest places of worship of the dark goddess, it is impressive in its grandiosity and in how unwelcoming it makes itself to be with its dark corners and tall pillars. If Shadowheart finds rapture in the temple, Halsin and you find it unsettling with how cold it is, though you keep your opinions to yourself.

For Astarion, he finds the temple rather homey; it is quiet and lonely, but it is still leagues better than the dreaded halls of Cazador's castle. When he tells the party just as much, he receives matching looks of incredulity.

“Do you… happen to like tall ceilings, Astarion?” You ask, comically sincere about it.

“Perhaps he sees the beauty in the silence,” Halsin offers. “It could be seen as…” He pauses. “Peaceful.”

Astarion sees Shadowheart turn her head a tad too late to hide her laughter.

Peaceful is giving the Gauntlet too much credit. The silence of the temple is unsettling at best, abandoned by those who used to worship it. Abandoned, it makes for a lovely home for a devil– more specifically the orthon they are tasked to kill in order to fulfill Raphael's deal.

Astarion could care less why Yurgur is here, but if the absence of living Dark Justiciars is of any indication, the orthon must have overstayed its welcome after the war. His ability to turn invisible is a tad irritating but he and his army are no match for them and their combined wit. You have quite the arm to throw his bombs back to him, and in the aftermath, there is nothing but dust.

As though he were watching, Raphael appears to them soon after to uphold his end of the bargain. He seems a midge too satisfied to be revealing the truth about the devilish contract etched onto Astarion's back, but perhaps he is simply happy to have gotten rid of his enemy vicariously. Astarion pays no mind to the devil when he leaves, mind whirling with the implications of the truth.

In short, it is overwhelming. (The feeling is quickly becoming familiar.) Two hundred years of questions finally answered. The reason for his pain all those nights ago, the horrors he has had to face all these years finally having meaning. It is a dreadful conclusion to result in, with more problems introduced than closure given.

Astarion lets out a thoughtful hum, and the concern on your face would be funny if his thoughts weren't so preoccupied. "You okay?"

"It's a lot to take in." Astarion pauses, looking over to you as you wait patiently, though there is still a veneer of concern behind your eyes. He finds that in your patience, he realizes he is afraid–of what is to come, and what this revelation means for him. Another realization is the fact that he trusts you in full. It should scare him, the way he feels like he can turn to you for help, but it does not--not as much as it used to. "What do you think I should do?"

"Well," you begin placidly, "anything to do with devils and demons never ends well. And," you glance at him, "the sacrifice of all vampire spawn doesn't sound too good to me."

"There's only the seven of us," he says, though he knows one is already too many for you to leave dead. The thought both irritates and comforts him in equal measure, especially when you give him a practiced look of exasperation. "Though that does include me. Just when I was about to start enjoying life again."

"And about Cazador." You continue plainly, "I don't think you'll be free until he's dead."

His heart leaps, and then something settles. How quick you are to get to the heart of the problem, not that he will ever admit it to you. "I hate," he says, "how right you are. If I thought he'd stop at nothing to find me when I was just his plaything, he'd go to the ends of Faerûn to bring me back knowing this contract." He swallows inaudibly, preparing his next words. "We need to take the fight to him, but I can't do it alone."

"You won't be," you say so easily. It pulls at heartstrings he wasn't aware existed. "You'll have me."

"Yes, well." He clears his throat. "Let's not overestimate ourselves; the two of us will certainly not be enough to go against a true vampire lord. Though..." Astarion trails off, trying but failing to stave off from the warmth that courses through him. "For what it's worth, thank you."

Your smile is beatific, and Astarion begins to think perhaps he doesn't deserve you.

As the umbral gems are collected, it begins to feel like the beginning of the end for the shadows that lurk. Everyone can feel it; it is the way hard conversations are beginning to be had, all loose ends tying up before the coming of a new chapter. Astarion sees you speak to Gale about his so-called destined fate to die against the Absolute, to Arabella about her future beyond her parents’ death, and to Karlach about hard decisions and an ending that seems all too close to come. You are busy with all matters of import that Astarion has not had a moment's time with you for the past few days.

He loathes to admit it but he finds himself missing your company. A ridiculous notion, he is sure. It's not as if he has not seen you around camp or not exchanged words with you at all. If anything, you still proactively seek out opportunities to see him when you are free, but all attempts to find the time to spend with him end up taken by someone else.

Astarion remembers once upon a time when he had barely cared to recognize the effort you put into spending time with him. Now, when he is bereft of your presence, he cannot stand the fact that everyone seems determined to thwart your every attempt.

He says as much to Karlach– though he may have complained more about your busy-body schedule than admit the fact he finds himself in want of you. Much to his dismay, Karlach is similar to you in the worst of ways, seeing through him easier than most. Though it may be due to her straightforward manner more than anything.

“Aw, Astarion, if you miss them that much, you can try to see if you can talk to them when they’re free too. Ooh!” She exclaims in excitement, “Do you want me to distract everyone for a little while? So the two of you lovebirds can have a moment together?”

Astarion is quick to turn her down. It embarrasses him to a degree that he misses you. He doesn’t think he is quite ready to admit it to himself, let alone to other people. It feels… final, like a turning point that Astarion isn’t sure he can take– should take. Surely, he thinks, you find other people’s company more enjoyable? “No, that won’t be necessary, darling,” he says airily. “It is hardly that important to warrant that much effort from either of us.”

He thinks Karlach’s look is much too sympathetic for his liking, so he excuses himself to read the Book of Thay again. At least then he won’t have to listen to his own thoughts.

That being said… Astarion's gaze follows you when you flit back and forth in camp. The book lay in his hands, opened but nearly forgotten, and he starts to take Karlach's words into consideration. Surely, initiating conversation with you should not be that hard? He has propositioned you twice already with no qualms and yet he doesn't know what to say to get your attention when it is not of sexual nature. He has never cared to, never been able to if he wanted to– and now when he has the chance, he stands rooted to his spot, unable to do a thing when Wyll asks you to dance with him as though it is second nature.

And of course you would accept– why wouldn't you?

He may have grown out of prince charmings and fairytale endings, but you? There could not possibly be a better match for you than Wyll, who is the epitome of everything you could ever dream of. Handsome, righteous, selfless– Wyll is the hero of every storybook, and Astarion would not be surprised if the heavens decided to make you for each other. Wyll twirls you in his arms, leading you with a gentle hand that is befitting of your nature. And you laugh, light and joyous, the two of you looking at each other with bright eyes.

Astarion would never doubt the fun that the two of you have together. But he knows you would want more than that. You dream of true love and world peace, dressing up in all white and walking down the aisle to swear yourself to another person for life. You bleed love with your every touch, and he has never tasted love until you.

He doesn’t know if he will ever be capable of loving you the way you deserve. (After all, what has he ever given you but lies and deceit?)

Astarion watches as you take a deep bow, laughing all the while as Wyll claps at your performance, and something inside him churns with an unfamiliar bitterness. Jealousy? Envy, perhaps. (Of who– maybe Wyll, maybe you, maybe both.)

But then you bid Wyll farewell and turn to him, and your face lights up as bright as moonglow. Astarion hates the way his heart trembles at the sight of you.

“Hey, you,” you say to him warmly, and a part of him wants to be spiteful– for invoking uncomfortable emotions he does not know how to deal with. The other half is simply glad that he has you at last.

Bad habits are hard to break though. “I see Wyll has made you his latest dance partner,” he says, unable to remove his scathing tone. You are more surprised than upset at his sudden animosity, which is a boon in itself. You look at him curiously though, with eyes that see into him too well for his sake, before you reply.

“For practice.” You say carefully, “For somebody else.” Before Astarion can inquire on who, you change the subject. “Do you know how to dance?”

“I know enough.” He clears his throat, continuing, “Dancing is an easy way to proverbially and literally whisk someone off their feet after all.”

Your eyes brighten at his words, and Astarion begins to think your earlier joy was not because you were dancing with Wyll but because you love to dance in general. “You want to teach me how to dance?” Your smile reaches your eyes, as it always does for him. “I bet you know how to ballroom dance. That sounds dreamy enough for you.”

“Without music? Hardly a dance,” he tells you, but when he sees you deflate, he is quick to say more. “When there is a proper setting, you can be the first to witness my skills personally.” He finds it inconvenient that his mood shifts with yours, because when your countenance lifts with hopeful anticipation from his words, he finds himself pleased to have caused it. “For now, I think my words will suffice in charming you just fine, don't you think, darling?”

“Confident you still have more lines to give me?” You ask teasingly, and Astarion is nothing if not a proud performer.

“Every time I heard the tieflings cry, I remember how you sounded crying for me,” he recites sultrily. “And now all these accolades from the Harpers are nothing compared to the sound of my name uttered from your lips.”

There is that familiar look of embarrassment and delight again. You laugh in response, leaning your head into his shoulders bashfully. “You're too much,” you tell him, your arm pressed against his. He relaxes at the warmth from your touch.

Guilt, envy, jealousy: he yearns for you despite everything he cannot be. In the end, he is but a selfish man at his core, and whatever he wants he will take. Until the moment you choose someone else to love and to hold, he will simply count down the hours till the sound of midnight chimes. But he will not let you go until then– and not a moment later. (Though perhaps if there is a person he can learn to love, it is you.)

Astarion goes on, line after line, if only to keep you here with him. “If you don't remember how much you enjoyed it last time, I would like to try again.” He lowers his voice to a whisper and watches as your eyes darken in response, “Until you can think of nothing else.”

“I hope,” Shadowheart interrupts with mirth, “you know he practices these lines when you're not here.”

Astarion sputters, and he narrows his eyes in mild annoyance when he sees Shadowheart pass by with a knowing smile. “Excuse me-”

“If you wanted your practice to be a secret, you might want to be quieter next time.” Shadowheart pauses. “Or perhaps not set your tent next to mine?”

“I don't know, Shadowheart,” he croons, “perhaps you might benefit from learning a thing or two from my charms.”

“Rather doubtful–”

Astarion hears you laugh long and hard as the two of them bicker. It is difficult to come up with retorts when he cannot help but be besotted at the sound of your joy. He hopes it is not obvious to everyone else.

His worries seem all the more unimportant when they complete Shar's Trial. It turns out that the Nightsong is not a relic but an aasimar--Selûne's own daughter. Astarion already knows a fight lies in wait the moment Balthazar stops talking. After Balthazar swiftly joins the land of the dead, it is Shadowheart's faith that is put to trial. When she refuses to kill the aasimar, Astarion isn't sure he should be impressed she would deny her goddess or by how spectacularly her goddess lost her trust in the course of the journey.

It's one of the reasons why he has never subscribed to the words of any god. What have the gods done for those who believed in them? Queen Vlaakith, who now swears to destroy Lae'zel despite her intrepid loyalty. Selûne, who could not save Ketheric's wife and daughter or her own child from a hundred years of captivity. Shar, who took advantage of the grief in Ketheric and innocence in Shadowheart for her own means. Mystra, who plucked Gale from a young age and cultivated him into a man who never felt like he was enough.

There is simply no use relying on them for anything. For what can they offer to him now when none has answered him once in the past two hundred years?

Astarion thinks you feel similarly. You could have easily been a cleric, a healer of the people blessed by the gods. But instead, you walk the path of the paladin, an oath created not in servitude to a higher being but to the weak and vulnerable. (Even then Astarion thinks that is too restricting for him, bound to do good by others no matter the situation. Believe him, he's already been on his best behavior by not pointing the sharp end of his dagger at anyone who tries to trifle with them.)

He once believed that your heart could know no evil, so being a paladin was easy. But he has grown to know you like the curve of his bow, and you are no saint. You become angry at others, yell and curse, and gods, you had the attitude to match him from the very beginning so he should have known even then.

But perhaps it is because you are like anyone else that your ability to keep your oath shines far brighter than any devotion to a god. It is a part of you that no one can take away, and it is a concept that both amazes and discomfits Astarion in equal measure.

Even now at the top of Moonrise Towers, you still hold mercy in your heart for a man like Ketheric. Of course you would sympathize with a heart like his, twisted and mangled beyond repair because of love and grief. Astarion wonders how long Ketheric Thorm has gone without anyone trying to understand him? A hundred years at least, since the death of his wife and child, and here comes a wayward paladin and their party of four, giving him a chance for redemption.

Astarion watches as Ketheric Thorm, the human he was, falls without a fight, and in his place, rises the undead chosen of Myrkul.

They've gone from fighting goblins to living machinery to literal shadows. To think those pales in comparison to the avatar of necromancy before them, all bones and scent of death. It would be so easy to be afraid, but then Astarion looks at you, lips moving in a silent prayer for courage, and he finds it less daunting to know that you can continue to move on despite your fear.

You are quick to dispatch the party: a group to free Dame Aylin from her shackles and another to start the fight against Myrkul. As Astarion sees Wyll, Shadowheart, and Jahiera teleport themselves closer to the aasimar, he knows quickly what team he's on. (“We work well together, you know,” he told you once after knocking down the goblin camp. He finds it somewhat comforting to know that statement is still true today.)

“Ready?” You ask him, a scroll of dimensional door in your hands.

“Darling,” he drawls, long bow in hand, “I thought you'd never ask.”

It ends up being a hard battle: cold, grasping hands of death from the unliving attack from all sides, the avatar of Myrkul summoning horrors beyond comprehension when they get close enough. And still, Astarion's hands remain steady as they aim deadly arrows toward a deity until it falls just like anybody else.

“It's over,” he hears you breathe out, eyes wide as Ketheric falls to his knees for the very last time. It is a horrible sight to see a man in his last minutes, soul broken by grief and the gods that took advantage of that, and body broken by the aasimar he deceived in turn. Still, when your hand finds his in the aftermath of such horrors, he understands two things: he has never cared for someone like you before in his life, and all things must come to an end.

It is only a matter of when.

(And a third thing– Astarion understands Ketheric Thorm more than he realizes. For what are they both if not selfish, foolish men willing to do everything to keep what is theirs?)

They stay behind to help the Harpers rebuild the Last Light Inn. It's enough time to see where allegiances lie, who is to join them for the final act in Baldur's Gate, and to see the glimpse of the shadow-land curse ebbing away. Astarion doesn't know who, but someone suggests a celebration of victory as an ode to those who had fallen, and suddenly life is breathed into the land and its people.

He's always loved a good party and he figures everybody feels the same. He can only hope the wine that's provided is even a smidgen better than the one in the druid grove. And he deserves a break– all of them do. Astarion watches as the Alfira and Lakrissa drag you away to some pre-celebratory hangout during the event's setup and cannot find it in himself to be anything but amused.

As it turns out, in between the cobwebbed walls and doom-and-gloom, Moonrise Towers has plenty to offer for the celebration. The leftover rations– whatever is still good after the battle anyways– serve as the basis of a banquet. The old and dusty black and white robes and attires of the Selûnites that once occupied this place are still in good condition, if you discount the mothballs and eaten up bits.

It makes for a nice change in pace for many at least, though Astarion thinks he'd rather wear something with embroidery than don a goddess’ servants outfit no matter how nice it is. It is a good thing Shadowheart is not quite Sharran or else there would be quite an upset. She is more preoccupied by her conversation with Dame Aylin than with the festivity preparations, but he knows she will join in due time if you have anything to say about it.

In the quiet bustle before the banquet, people flit back and forth, busy. Whether they are preparing the necessary things for the celebration, healing the wounded, making the burial grounds, or getting drunk ahead of the game, there is something to do. Astarion finds himself in the last category nursing a cup of wine and watching the processions, His Majesty curled up at his feet.

The last person he expects to make time to speak with him is Wyll.

“Care for some company?” Wyll asks with a smile.

Astarion shrugs, hiding his surprise behind his nonchalance. “I suppose the wine can be shared.”

Wyll nods. “Much thanks,” he says, allowing Astarion to pour him half a glass before taking a cursory sip. Astarion follows after him, though he watches Wyll carefully in the corner of his eyes.

“I've hunted demons,” Wyll begins, “orthons, devils, and monsters. When I met our leader, I never expected to eventually fight against a God. Did you?”

Astarion lets out an airy laugh. “Knowing who we're following, I can't say I'm too surprised.” He waves his hand flippantly before crossing his arms. “Goes to show even Gods can fall… and that paladins seek nothing but trouble.”

Wyll laughs at that, and Astarion tries to not make it seem like he's almost dropped the glass. “Makes you hopeful, doesn't it?” Wyll tells him, “That there's nothing that cannot be done at their side?”

And there it is, Astarion thinks wryly. Their single point of similarity lies in their affections for you. He was wondering why the righteous Blade of Frontiers was making conversation. But still, with the jealousy that swirls low in the pit of his stomach, he thinks of you and the miracles you have created from seemingly nothing and warmth spreads and overtakes any and all bitterness.

“Astarion,” Wyll starts, faltering for the first time. Astarion barely has enough time to turn to him when he continues to greater incredulity. “I was wrong about you. Truly wrong about you.”

What? Astarion stares at him for a moment before he realizes he's taking a moment too long. Being snarky comes like second nature. “Let me guess,” he drawls, “you thought I'd sucked blood, but instead I just suck. Was that your witty jab?”

“No! I mean it,” Wyll says. He is sincere as he always is, and Astarion wants to sneer at it, if only he wasn't reminded of you. (He's grown used to people saying what they mean, and part of him is scared of it.) “There's little between us we share, but you've fallen in love and stood by your lover. This is something this dreamer's heart can appreciate.”

Wyll means you, he realizes. You and him: lovers. It seems to become less of a lie with each coming day if Karlach and now Wyll seem to see right through him. “I– thank you,” Astarion replies, bewildered, “I suppose.”

“Pay it no mind,” Wyll tells him, clinking his glass to his. “After all the fighting we've done, it puts a lot of things in perspective. I don't want to leave things unsaid nor undone.”

Astarion snorts into his glass; hardly a charming gesture but he finds it easier to be less than such these days. “See, that's where you and I can agree on!” He says slyly, “Is that where all your night time dancing practices have been for? To woo your love at the first chance you get?”

Wyll coughs into his hand, and Astarion watches in glee as he grows embarrassed. “I hope you haven't seen me in the earlier nights; I was quite horrendous.” He sighs. “I can only pray that no one else has noticed besides you and our leader… I was hoping to keep it a secret until later.”

“Knowing our camp, it was never a secret to begin with,” Astarion says dryly.

“I just…” Wyll continues almost wistfully, “I want to give her something to look forward to. She deserves the world after everything she's been through– let alone a dance to truly and well whisk her away.”

Astarion can see the lovestruck gleam in Wyll's eyes as he talks, and he recognizes that look not when he looks at you but instead… “Karlach?” He asks, watching as the mighty Blade of Frontiers fidgets in place, “So you've been practicing your dances for Karlach?” His smile widens not unlike a cat who has captured a canary, both from the fact he has nothing to fear from Wyll and from the way he now has the ammunition to tease the man. So this is what it means to kill two kobolds with one stone. “I hope you haven't been practicing other things without her too.”

“Astarion, please.”

It's moments like these when Wyll is trying to sink into the floor from mortification that he is reminded how young the warlock is. He never imagined talking about love with him of all things, but here they are– it surely isn't the strangest situation he's been through. “I'm sure Karlach would be happy to have you ask her to dance, skills be damned.”

“I'm sure,” Wyll says warmly, “but I want to give her only the best, if I can.”

And if that wasn't another sentiment Astarion has grown familiar with.

Before guilt can sink his mood, Astarion clears his throat. “You wouldn't happen to have a few dancing lessons in store for your fellow companion, would you, darling?”

Wyll is kind enough to not say anything to his question, though the knowing looks he gives Astarion throughout his guidance is reminiscent of Karlach that he escapes as soon as he is able. With the party soon underway, more people come into the main floor with fresh attire. Alcohol is poured and music is played with Alfira leading the fray. Lakrissa, never far from her lady bard, meets his gaze and nods her head upward.

“Upstairs,” Lakrissa tells him with a wide smile. “They're doing some finishing touches. I'm sure they won't mind if you get them.”

There is that damned knowing look again, he thinks, walking up the stairs. He pauses for a moment halfway up, gazing at the party quickly underway and at the people he has met thus far. He spots Dammon and Karlach talking near the door, Wyll across the room building his courage to ask her to dance. Shadowheart and Lae'zel sit at the bar drinking in surprising camaraderie next to Rolan and his siblings, still ribbing him in usual manner. Harpers are scattered in the room, Jaheira to the side watching on after having said her goodbyes prior; she will be joining their party to Baldur's Gate, after all.

Halsin was preoccupied with Thaniel so he may or may not be joining them later on, though Astarion doubts he would disappoint you by not showing up. Not seeing Gale in the midst if the celebration is strange, considering how much more eager he is to converse with others. Astarion's pondering answers itself when he sees Gale exit your room.

“Ah, there you are,” Gale greets him cheerily. “They're about done with their preparations– they thought they'd ask me for my opinions on their appearance. And despite my admitted inexperience in the matter, I hope I did my due diligence in reassuring them they looked fine. The rest is up to you, I'm afraid.” He puts a hand on Astarion's shoulder and squeezes lightly, and the look in his eyes grows somber for just a moment. “Treat them well.”

If he had a heart still, it would pang with guilt. “Don't I always?” Astarion says airily, and Gale gives him another pat and a wide smile.

“That you do, my friend,” Gale says warmly. “I am ever glad to see my two good companions happy together. Best wishes to you both.”

Gale leaves him and Astarion stands outside your door, unsure what he is waiting for. He peeks inside, watching as you tinker with your jewelry in the mirror. In the reflection he sees you in all your glory. You are beautiful as ever in your evening attire, simultaneously dashing in your knightly way as you are beautiful and warm and real. You notice him in the mirror and turn to smile at him, and guilt settles into him like lead.

You deserve more, he thinks with finality, and Astarion knows then he can no longer delay the inevitable, despite himself. You must know the truth about his intentions for you, even if it pushes you away from him and renders your protection for him. You deserve nothing less but his honesty. He only wishes he were not so cowardly as to have done it sooner, if only to not ruin the rest of your night.

(But the truth is, Astarion has a little hope that you will still love him despite it all– because he thinks he wants something real with you too.)

“There you are,” you say warmly, walking up to him. “Are you ready to dance?” You take his hand in yours, and he holds onto you for dear life.

"I was waiting for you,” he tells you weakly. He squeezes your hand as if asking for strength. “Do you have a moment? I think we need to talk."

Lovely as you are, you are nothing but concerned for him. "Yeah, sure! Are you okay?"

"Oh yes, I'm fine,” he tells you automatically. Deflection comes easily for him. “I just-- feel awful."

Your sympathy is almost too much to bear that Astarion musters up the will to push forward before your compassion weakens his resolve. He must confess now or he never will. He swallows painfully.

"Look, I had a plan,” he begins to explain, “a nice simple plan. Seduce you, sleep with you, manipulate your feelings so you'd never turn on me." He lets out a shaky laugh– entirely inappropriate and unreflective of his feelings, but what else is he to do? Does he even deserve to show you how much turmoil he has gone through to reach this point in telling you?

"It was easy,” he continues, trying to ignore the way his chest twists painfully when he sees you flinch, hurt. “Instinctive.” He lets your hand fall from his as he gesticulates, weaving his story dramatically in the only way he knows how lest he feel too much. Your arms draw themselves in as if to brace yourself for a blow, and all Astarion can think is that he must– he must continue on for better or worse. He cannot bear doing this a second time.

“Habits from 200 years of charming people kicked in. All you had to do was fall for it,” he tells you. Astarion feels his voice shake. “And all I had to do was not fall for you. That was where my nice, simple plan fell apart."

He sees a flicker of something in your eyes as he finishes. He can't quite place what it is– he can hardly begin to process how he's feeling at the moment. But the truth is finally out in the open, and the tension in his body is pulled taut like a bow string as he waits for your response. He wants so desperately to make excuses, to go on about anything that would salvage his relationship with you, but he won't. You have been patient with him time and time again, and it is only fair for him to do the same.

No one ever told him how hard it would be though. To wait. You stand only a foot away from him and yet the distance between the two of you feels vast.

"...So,” you begin quietly, “did the nights we spend together... did they mean anything then?"

You're ridiculous, he thinks, almost laughing in fond incredulity. He half expected you to storm out of the room, demanding he never speak to you again. The fact you are still talking it through with him is more than he could ever ask for. "Of course it did,” Astarion tells you fervently. “That's the problem. Or part of it. You–” His voice catches with emotion. “You're incredible. You deserve something real.”

He watches as you blink in rapid succession, willing the tears that come easily to you away. Astarion thinks about the way you yearn for simple touches, sweet romances, and true love. And even if he does not yet know how to love you the way you want, he knows this: “I want us to be something real."

Astarion reaches his hands out to meet yours before he realizes it is happening. The utter relief he feels when you close the distance (so small yet so far) between the two of you is insurmountable. He thinks you can feel the way his hands shake when you hold onto them. Or is that you? He thinks, savoring the warmth seeping into his skin. No matter– nothing else matters but the way you are still here with him now.

"So do I,” you say wetly. “More than anything."

Astarion knows better than to look into a gift horse's mouth, but it is in his nature to question when good things happen to him. His question comes out quietly, disbelieving, "Really?"

And he can see your expression soften-- not of pity or sympathy-- just affection as you huff good naturedly, as though he were just absolutely silly for doubting you. "Yes, of course," you say, cupping his face just as gently before you wrap your arms around him, pulling him close.

You are warm in his arms with the sweet scent of lilac.

When was the last time he has been held like this, he wonders. Without precontext for sex or expectations for something more. Like when he was helpless but to see you preoccupied with others, it is in times like these Astarion realizes he is inexperienced when it comes to affection in its purest form. It makes him… lost in a way, to know what he does not know.

[Can he tell, you wonder, that you've been wanting to hold him like this from the very beginning? To make him feel safe. To let him know he has nothing to worry about, at least when it comes to you. You hold him tightly, and if love could be poured out from you to another, you would have it spill over and more.]

But you don't seem to care. You never have. Giving little bits of affection to him wherever he can accept it without expecting anything given back. He wants to learn how to be with you starting now.

Moving his arms around you to embrace you is unfamiliar, but his hands find purchase on your back, palms flat and firm. Your heart against his chest beats steadily, and Astarion finds that he doesn't want this moment to end. He feels vulnerable in a way he has not felt in a long time, if ever. Everything seems easier to say to you, now that you accept him, flawed as he is.

"I just,” he begins quietly, “don't know what real looks like, not after two hundred years of playing the rake. Being close to someone, any kind of intimacy, was something I performed to lure people back for him.”

He feels you pull away, but only for a moment before you are holding his hands gently. He continues, “Even though I know things between us are different, being with someone still feels tainted.” He feels his mouth twist at the word, and he looks down, shame burning his tongue despite himself. “Still brings up those feelings of disgust and loathing.”

“I don't know how else to be with someone,” he confesses, “no matter how much I'd like to.”

Silence fills the space the two of you take up. It would feel suffocating if not for the way you rub his hands with your thumbs, grounding him to this moment. It feels so easy to just run away, but he stands with you until you find the words to speak. You tell him finally, “You are important to me no matter what you're going through.” His breath catches. “And if that sort of intimacy makes you feel uncomfortable, we can be together without sleeping together for as long as you need.”

You are firm with your words, and Astarion blinks away wetness in his eyes and tries to reach for levity as he always does. “Why, that almost sounds like a challenge,” he says, and when you do a little laugh, he feels lighter.

The two of you are by no means a perfect union. Far from it: who would ever imagine a vampire rogue and a devoted paladin to be a match for each other? And yet, you want to make the two of you work. He wants it to work, whatever it is they are. Rather than fear or apprehension, he finds himself in anticipation for an unknown destination with you by his side.

(It feels a little bit like death, in a good way. To imagine this is how people feel all the time– excited and terrified all at once; how do they all do it?)

Astarion lets out a laugh of his own. "Honestly, I have no idea what we're doing. Or what comes next,” he says. He raises his hands where they are connected to you. "But I know that this? This is nice."

Your smile is wobbly with emotion, and your eyes shining with an affection that Astarion has grown familiar with. "Dance with me?”

Astarion responds by taking one of your hands and placing a kiss at your knuckle. The smile he receives from you is daylight and he basks in its presence. “Shall I take the lead this time, darling?”

“Only just this once,” you tease, and he is almost giddy at the banter. Oh, how quickly the two of you begin anew, as if no hurt has been done. Eyes wet with emotion now dry and upturned from mirth as Astarion dramatically presents your hand, walking down the stairs to join in the banquet.

How ridiculous mankind is, for celebrating while their fate looms over the horizon at Baldur's Gate. How incredulous people are for still holding onto hope even when hope seems all but lost. Astarion still thinks it unwise to trust others in a world where only the strongest survive, but perhaps he has changed just a bit if he thinks it is not quite so impossible to believe in it himself.

He is not healed– and he feels he will not be for some time, not as long as Cazador still lives. But much like the shadow-cursed land, he feels as though he is healing. At your side, with his hand on your waist and the other entwined with yours to twirl you on a wooden dance floor as you laugh until you are breathless– he can finally try.

And perhaps that is all that matters.

(Sleeping beneath the stars, a night before reaching Baldur's Gate, Astarion thinks about how you have given him precious, impossible moments of comfort. He had only expected to have a few more before an untimely death but after time and time again, the two of you live.

But just how long will that luck last?

With Cazador, the two avatars of death, and the elder brain looming over their fates, Astarion feels a fear unlike what he has ever faced, for he has far more to lose than just himself now. It suffocates him. Because he is not good enough- not strong enough. Not for you, not for Cazador, nor for the gods that never answered him.

Unless…

If he takes Cazador's power for his own, if he can ascend and become a creature far beyond a true vampire… he can finally keep the two of you safe– for good. From all the evils of the world, from the Cazadors, from whoever dares to threaten the two of you.

Whoever must be sacrificed to make it happen be damned. Astarion will be selfish enough for the two of you.

A part of him wonders if you will still love him then.)

#astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion ancunin #astarion bg3 #astarion x you #astarion/tav #astarion/reader #thank god i split act ii into 2 parts

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alkhale · 9 months

Note

i know it might have been mentioned before, but if it hasn't been touched on already, could we pretty pretty pls see what a marine au for memos would look like? who would Hoku work for? would she ironically make for a good marine?

The following AU takes place in a timeline where Hoku did eventually join the Marines. After spending time on Dawn Island with Luffy, when Hoku sets off on her own journey, reuniting with Ace, meeting Hack, etc, only after fixing up Mayman/meeting Kid, does she seek out Tsuru and decide to take her up on her offer to become "an upstanding marine" and to avoid Luffy

(The scene with Shanks below takes place sometime 3D2Y post-time skip)

Hoku decides to play at being a marine because she (1) finds them constantly in the line of fire and at risk of work hazards (2) believes there's something specific she can do from the inside of the institute she'd like to explore, mainly helping other Pokians and maaaaaybe making things a bit easier for a certain king of pirates (because she knows she can always quit!) (3) it will help her avoid being a pirate with luffy and being involved further in the main story

Despite this plan, she still seems to run into one too many pirates

"What's your relationship with Straw Hat Luffy?" "Who's that?" "Our men saw him trying to kidnap you onto his ship! Was it for ransom?" "He just wanted me to try Sanji's new dish."

"But you're a marine, we're supposed to be capturing pirates?"

"I didn't see that in the handbook."

"But you never read the handbook!"

Hoku underwent rigorous training with Tsuru, mainly under the tough old lady's jurisdiction—this helps her particularly avoid discipline from several other marines. There have often been requests for her to join other commands, some from marines who want to teach her a lesson, others from marines who genuinely have fun working with her

When Tsuru isn't training her, she's being worked to near death by Garp

She has one of the highest disciplinary records in academy history

Some cadets don't understand how she can get away with getting into so much trouble, sometimes a marine grunt will see her being forced to clean out an entire base's cafeteria while someone supervises and they're like?? again??? how is she not in impel down?? tried for mutiny??

Some people eventually get the memo—it's favoritism/abuse of power/strangely good luck in some occasions

Some marines don't like it one bit, they have it out for Hoku, she doesn't really care

Garp never, ever stops talking anyone's ear off about how his beautiful, adorable granddaughter is going to be one of the best marine's the world has ever seen

Tsuru has unofficially officially made herself Hoku's grandmother in a way. She and Garp often have petty fights over Hoku stories. They fight a lot over who's squad Hoku has to be on

Over the years, she's actually made enough contributions and done quite the number of great feats, enough to land her at captain level, (rear admiral candidate at Tsuru and Garp's behest) but Hoku sometimes keeps her petty officer title, keeping the perks that come with captain status and the likes

She doesn't mind abusing her power and shrugging off her responsibilities

Whenever she's assigned missions where she has a whole squad to take care of, the marines assigned to her are usually wary, uncertain and thinking they're unlucky

Until they actually work with Hoku and are like??? we're doing work today? did we just bust this human trafficking ring? did we just liberate an entire island stuck in a pirate tyranny? and other times they come, asking her what their job is for today and she's just like? go home there's nothing to do

If they really bother her, she'll send them off to different islands and countries that need help. "Go distribute these supplies to here." "They asked for someone to help rebuild their village." "Put those dumb ships to use and go delivery this to them."

Hoku has made her way around several different bases, under several different chains of commands, (she is now infamous) usually on a sort of temp job kind of borrowed basis, but officially she's under Tsuru's wing

Smoker has gone through several different stages of mental strife and grief with Hoku, originally being distrustful when the criminal who blew up a base in Tretar became a marine, then becoming somewhat determined to help mold her into a damn good marine, then to becoming strangely fixed (obsessed) with either being in charge of ensuring she receives punishment/is not mistreated for her origins within the lower ranks, and they are even sometimes seen gambling together on occasion. They have a funny relationship these two, Hoku's too lazy to try to understand it.

Her outfit as a marine is a lot like her original, however she wears a black top instead of white and with black pants. Her jacket is white instead with her usual accessories, and the only thing that helps people actually identify her as a marine is the standard issue marine cap she wears

Hoku has also secretly become a huge collector of wanted posters. It originally started small, just taking the wanted posters of people she cared about, but now it's spiraled into a full-on sizable collection where she has different versions of wanted posters, original prints, first roll-outs and etc. She trades with Bradnew and other marines and hangs them all up on her wall or keeps them safe in a minted book

Hoku often abuses any and all of her rights as a marine. She's really, really good at being a bad marine.

"Hey, did you hear the news?"

The petty officer looked up from where they'd been tasked to dust and clean the entire meeting room to perfection. Several other cadets and chore boys had been called from the barracks, each ordered to ensure that the following few rooms that would be in use for the meeting would be ready at a moment's notice.

For what meeting? He had no idea.

"No," he said, because he didn't know. There was so much gossip going around base these days he could hardly keep up. "What was it?"

First there'd been the rumor that one of the Four Emperors of the sea was on the move about the Grand Line, cutting and going as he pleased. Any movement from an Emperor was grounds for mass panic. Then there'd been talk that newly appointed Fleet Admiral Akainu had almost burned another ranking marine alive. Less serious and more on the interesting side, word was floating around that the Vice Admiral Smoker was seeing someone, which was juicy gossip in its own right because Vice Admiral Smoker?

"Apparently he's always following her around," someone said.

"He requests transfers and is always grumbling about them, I think he's worried they're going to end up with someone else—"

"Even Captain Tashigi seems to be aware and they're always—"

For today, however, it seemed something different was brewing amongst headquarters. Other officers were making a ruckus while the upper brass seemed particularly miffed—which usually only happened if it involved someone outside their scope of power influence doing something they didn't like—

"One of the Seven Warlords is visiting HQ!"

The petty officer blinked, opening his mouth before closing it and then finally deciding on his next words, "Well, that's big news, but it's not unheard of news man. They're required to come for summons."

The petty officer shrugged. "Especially people like Bartholomew Kuma or First-Son of the Sea Jimbei. They're always on time."

"No, no, you don't understand," the marine looked around as though someone would hear before motioning for the petty officer to come closer. He rolled his eyes, leaning over the table. "It isn't just any of the Warlords... It's Hawk-Eye Mihawk!"

The petty officer dropped his broom, turning to his fellow marine. The other man looked smug now. "Dracule Mihawk is coming to HQ?"

"That's what I'm saying!"

"You should've said so sooner!" the petty officer scooped up his broom, renewing his cleaning with vigor. "He's not just a regular Warlord—that guy never responds to his summons! Never!"

"See what I mean! This is big news! Why now? What do you think convinced him to come?"

"It must be something big," he said, shaking his head as the two of them not-so-discreetly made their way to the wide windows overlooking the base's dock. They'd get a full view of the elusive swordsman this way. "Do you think they're mobilizing for something?"

"I don't know, man. Think they'll let us sit in on the—"

A loud clamor came from the ground level beneath them. The two marines quickly looked at each other and then pressed their faces up against the glass. Their fellow officers below them were rushing around on the docks, forming into greeting lines and looking sick with nervousness. One man seemed to be praying.

It was understandable behavior, to be honest. Dracule Mihawk was known for being an unknown man and more often then not he'd felled one too many marine ships simply because they'd been in his way.

"I see his ship!" the marine beside him said. They pressed harder to the glass, squinting for the full view. "Always gives me the creeps. Who sails around in a coffin?"

He thought about telling his fellow officer that there was quite the number of weirder ships out there, but the sudden silence below them made the two of them pause. They glanced to each other and then back down.

The dock had gone eerily silent. Marines shook at the knees while hardened captains and a single vice admiral waited to greet the Warlord of the Sea.

One figure, however, suddenly came into view along the dock, sticking out like a sore thumb compared to the rest.

Her bright white hair fluttered absently with the wind, tugged this way and that as she paced up and down the dock, looking out across the ocean. She skirted the edge of the pier, however, just shy of the water with her hands stuffed into her jacket pockets.

"Who the hell is that?" the marine beside him said. "And why isn't she falling into line? What's her rank?"

"That's..." the petty officer caught a full view of the woman's face now, freezing at the infamous half-heart curving around her eye. "Cap—Serga—Lieute—" he paused, uncertain of her current ranking now. "Officer Hoku!"

"Hoku?" the marine looked confused, "who the hell is that?"

"Officer Hoku!" the petty officer repeated, looking at the man in shock. "You haven't heard of her? Vice Admiral Tsuru's right hand woman, the officer who blew up over ten marine bases—"

"She blew up our own bases?"

"It's a long story—the woman who apparently violated the nefarious Trafalgar Law—"

"Violated?"

"I heard what she did to him was so disgusting, even the officers near her threw up themselves! The one who fought Fleet Admiral Akainu's authority multiple times, got caught gambling in Crocodile's casino, vandalized a whole part of Marineford—"

"And she's not in Impel Down?" the man said, aghast. "Are you sure she's on our side?"

"Oh, sure. She's been credited with busting the largest human trafficking rings in history! She's also brought in multiple heinous pirates, and on multiple occasions they say she's been able to deescalate several run-ins with huge bounty pirates like the Straw—"

"I guess it makes sense why they're sending her to meet someone like a shichibukai," the marine said thoughtfully. The petty officer paused, a bit offended he didn't get to finish Hoku's infamous and notorious list. "Need a crazy officer to handle a crazy pirate, right?"

A commotion finally broke out below them. The vice admiral waiting to oversee the whole affair was shouting at Hoku now, lecturing her about her lack of respect. The white haired marine simply took a seat on a wooden crate, picking at her ear and absently flicking off toward the vice admiral's feet.

The marine gaped while the petty officer stiffled a laugh with a cough.

"Look, it's him!"

Hoku seemed to have thought the same thing, turning sharply from the vice admiral and jumping to her feet. A single, haunting figure of a man stepped out from the edge of his coffin. His coat flared out dangerously about his heels, wind catching against the fluffed plume atop his head. Cadets started to shake at the knees at the sight of the man—

"Mihawk!"

The cadets around them went completely pale, jaws growing slack as Hoku flew across the dock, taking off with a flying leap and sailing through the air, arms and legs oustretched.

Dracule Mihawk did not move. He remained, still as a statue as the marine promptly wrapped her arms and legs around his head. The vice admiral's jaw dropped to the floor, one hand reaching for his saber uselessly.

Mihawk remained still, allowing Hoku to situate herself as she rubbed her cheek over the top of his hat, laughing with a sound so sweet with joy, it made the petty officer flush. She turned around, keeping herself wrapped completely over his head.

The rest of the marines continued to stare, waiting for Mihawk to throw her into the water or cut her in half.

"I didn't know you were coming to visit!" Hoku said happily, eyes shining with affection. "What's it for? You get called in by the brass or somethin'?"

"It was a whim." Mihawk neither cut her nor tossed her into the ocean. Instead, the man simply began to walk with perfect ease, toting Hoku along as though she were an added weight to his hat. "I will be departing shortly."

"Already! You've got a stay for at least a bit! Actually, aren't you hear for a meeting?"

"I heard of no such thing."

"Oh, cool then! Why don't we grab something to eat?"

"You mean to spar?"

"I-I never said that! Eat! I said eat!"

"Come, then. We shall take up arms—"

"Wait, wait, wait!"

The petty officer quickly began to add another feat to Hoku's growing list. The marine beside him continued to gape.

- - - - - - - - -

"Hmm," Hoku's brows furrowed in thought, fingers moving in a rhythmic, soothing motion. "This isn't a bad idea, right?"

"It's a bit cramped."

"Right, right, sorry about that. Just give it a few more minutes. Those guys out there are runnin' around like chickens without a head."

"Aye."

Hoku's fingers flexed. Her cheeks flushed a bit as she cleared her throat. As subtly as she could, she pressed herself tighter to the figure squeezed into the armory closet beside her. He made no move in protest, simply shuffling a bit to accommodate her and Hoku felt her cheeks flush.

"Do you need more room?" he asked.

"No, no," Hoku cleared her throat. "Sorry. Mind if I get a bit closer."

"That's okay," he said kindly. "I don't mind."

Hoku sneakily reached her arms more around his waist. He turned again in her arms and she felt her heart hammer wildly now, cheeks flushed as she slowly, carefully pressed her cheek against him.

Hoku shut her eyes in bliss. Soft. Like a cloud. And so warm. So, so warm. Ka. I don't mind staying like this for another hour—

"Shambles."

Hoku let out a squawk of surprise, her and her companion ripped clean from the closet and appearing hovering in the air for a moment. A thin film of blue surrounded the two of them, Hoku's arms and legs wrapped shamefully and scandalously around the other as her eyes went wide and then they both crashed onto cobblestone floors.

Hoku groaned, a second flick of someone's fingers leaving her on her ass before a pair of long legs. She rubbed her tailbone, looking up with a disgruntled frown as dark, brooding eyes gazed directly back at her.

"Traffy," Hoku greeted casually. "I didn't know you were here."

Law gave Hoku one long, withering look before he glanced over to the mound of soft white fur collapsed on the floor still, his fluffy cheeks flushed a soft pink.

"Were you taking advantage of Bepo?"

Hoku coughed. She refused to meet Law's eyes, fiddling instead with the top of his boot.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Captain Hoku!" Hoku blinked, looking around the side of Law's legs as a crowd of marines skidded to a halt before them. "Shall we arrest these fiends?"

"Nah," Hoku sighed, standing up as she dusted herself off. Law tipped his head to the side, regarding her coolly. "No need."

"B-But they're pirates!"

"I didn't see anything." Hoku turned on her heel, giving Bepo a wink. The polar bear's cheeks flushed a brighter pink and she grinned, saunteering off. "Let's head back to the ship—"

Tattooed fingers enclosed smoothly around her wrist. Hoku blinked, once, twice, before she glanced down to the larger hand engulfing hers. She followed it up to a calm, unreadable expression, dark, half-lidded eyes slowly meeting her own.

Something devious flickered, like a dark little shadow across Law's face.

Hoku paled.

"On an island surrounded by marines," Law said slowly, his voice low, curling around her ears. "I suppose we ought to take a hostage for safe passage, right?"

Hoku grinned nervously.

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

"Cap—Officer Hoku! Officer Hoku!"

Hoku sighed, forcing her eyes to remain shut. Sunlight warmed the exposed skin of her belly, whispering temptingly to urge her into a well-needed nap in a rare moment of peace. The island they'd been called to investigate had seemed to resolved itself, no more terrorizing, plundering pirates and simply happy, cheerful townsfolk.

She didn't know what good luck had helped them out, but she wasn't about to complain over a free chance to kick back on the island before HQ called them back. They weren't expected for another week—this was the perfect chance to slack offcget some rest.

Hurried footsteps still rushed her way. Hoku kept her arms behind her head, lounging over one of her drawn hammocks. Usually ignoring them for awhile did the trick—

"Officer Hoku!" the marine finally panted, wheezing as she skidded to a halt beside Hoku. "Cap—Hoku! It's an emergency!"

Hoku kept silent, turning onto her side.

"The—at the docks," the girl panted. Her eyes were round with fear, knees shaking. "Docks!"

Hoku continued to sway peacefully in the sun.

"A ship, docked!" she inhaled a great breath of air.

"It's one of the Four Emperor's of the Sea—Red Haired Shanks!"

Hoku slipped out of her hammock, slamming face first into the wood below her. The marine jumped, hands flying to her mouth as Hoku quickly shot to her feet, nose red from her fall and eyes wide in disbelief.

"Who?"

"Red Haired Shanks!" the marine cried. Hoku's jaw went slack, eyes round. "O-Our men are currently in a perimeter around him! Apparently he's been spending time on this island for the past few days and—"

"They're doing what?" Hoku squawked. "Our orders are to never engage with Emperors unless ordered—oh for—ka!"

The marine opened her mouth to deliver the most pressing part of the news, but Hoku was already running past her, racing faster than she could ever hope to catch up to.

"And he's..." the marine started weakly. "Asking for you..."

Hoku skidded to a halt before massive blockade of blue and white bodies. She scowled, quickly forcing her way through, barking out quick and concise orders as her men whirled around, eyes widening at her appearance, jumping in and shouting left and right about emperor, what do we do? and Captain Hoku, stay back! This man is—

Hoku let out a screech as she tripped into the clearing, finally pushing past the wall of bodies.

A single arm reached out, a hand wrapping gently around her arm to hold her steady.

Hoku froze, her eyes shooting up.

"Dove," Shanks said, voice thick with fondness. "It's been awhile."

Hoku's traitorous heart fluttered at the sight of that slow, cheerful grin. She pointedly coughed, dusting herself off as Shanks' eyes flickered with amusement, stepping back, fingers lingering slightly on her arm so she could straighten herself.

"Pirate," Hoku said casually, the hint of a tease in her tone. Shanks raised a playful brow in turn. "As... what rank am I right now?"she turned to her men behind her.

"Just an officer, ma'am!"

"As commanding officer," Hoku crossed her arms over her chest. Shanks hand fell back to his side, fingers curling slightly. "I'm obligated to ask what one of the Four Emperors of the Sea is doing in this humble town."

"Well," Shanks glanced over his shoulder, back toward the dock where the Red Force was waiting. He could sense the playful jeers of his crew over the lip of the bow. "Miss Marine... It isn't a crime to be stocking up on some supplies and catching a short break now, is it?"

Hoku pretened to think his words over. Shanks' eyes glimmered with mirth.

The marine surrounded them continued to gape, frozen in disbelief.

"It's interesting timing," Hoku said. Shanks hummed for her to continue. "We were originally here on a distress call, but just as we were about to dock, we found out the issue had already been taken care of..."

"What luck," Shanks said with a grin. "I suppose that leaves you with some time to perhaps... relax yourself, aye?"

Hoku's mouth parted to retort and then she paused. Hoku blinked, looking up at Shanks in stunned surprise as she tried to make the little click of what she'd just heard in her head. But when he says it like that... no, wait. There's no way he'd know—huh?

Shanks watched the gears turn, eyes crinkling at the corners. "I know how hard you marines are always working—"

"Hoku!" Shanks eyes flickered to where a man broke the ranks of the gathered crowd, shoulders squared with whatever confidence he'd mustered. Shanks regarded him easily, expression relaxed as he approached Hoku. "We should retreat! We need to leave immediately and report the situation back to HQ!"

Hoku turned back to the marine. "It's alright. It's... a bit of a long story, but you guys know how it goes these days. He's—"

"Not like one of the other pirates!" the marine continued, gaze fearfully flickering to an amused looking Shanks and back. "With the others we understood, but this is an Emperor of the Sea! Cap—Officer Hoku, we should go!"

"I know, I know," Hoku appeased. "But don't—"

A different marine broke the ranks now, reaching out a grabbing Hoku's elbow. The first marine looked shocked while Hoku remained nonchalant, expression cool.

Shanks' gaze slowly flickered to where his fingers pressed indents into her skin.

The marine scowled viciously. "I ain't gettin' fired because of—

Shanks simply glanced over the top of Hoku's head.

Hoku's knees buckled for a moment, trembling under the sheer force until she quickly rightened herself, looking up at the pirate before her in disbelief.

Left and right the marine officers behind her dropped to the floor like flies, foam spilling out of some of their mouths as they crashed onto the ground. The man who'd grabbed Hoku in particular had been the first to collapse, hacking and clawing at his head before he fell face forward, pale and ashen. Hoku watched all of them, jaw going slack until not a single man was left standing, wiped out in a manner of seconds.

Warily, she turned her gaze back to playfully dark eyes, already watching her in turn.

"...even I have to say," Hoku began slowly, "that was a bit much, don't you think?"

"I never said I was a patient man," Shanks said almost sweetly, but his tone was sly and his eyes crinkled at the corners, shameless. "Now, Dove..."

Shanks offered her his arm, lips curling at the corner into something mischievous. His eyes watched her, half-lidded and almost lazy.

They burned, never leaving her face.

Hoku felt her pulse racing beneath her skin, forcing herself to appear relaxed.

"Shall we catch up a bit?" Shanks said, a slight husk to his tone.

"...I could threaten to make quite the arrest you know," Hoku said, only because she needed time to calm down.

Shanks tipped his head to the side, seeming to humor the thought. He hummed then, shutting his eyes as though going a step further and imagining the scenario. He turned his arm toward her, offering his wrist.

"I suppose I could come willingly," he said lightly, his words curling all about her, "If it were a beautiful woman like you... but I'm afraid I've only got one hand to offer..."

Shanks grinned impishly. "You'd have to cuff me to yourself."

Hoku snorted, crossing her arms over her chest. Shanks laughed, a full, cheerful sound. "You sure that's a good idea?"

"Well, I suppose it could be quite a bit to handle."

"More than you can handle?" Hoku grinned.

Shanks' eyes glittered then, like a ripple, and Hoku felt a thin shiver run down her spine, like the playful drag of a fingertip ghosting along her back.

"I don't know," Shanks murmured into her ear, leaning down. "I'd have to find out for myself."

Weakly, Hoku hooked her arm through his, making the decision for him.

Shanks laughed, a bellowing, heartfelt sound. He pulled her along into his side, his cloak flaring out behind them, almost wrapping around Hoku as they made their way down to the port.

"Aw, dove, don't pout. I promise I won't bite."

"You might lose a tooth or two if you try that."

"Dahaha! I thought you'd be sweeter since it's been so long! Is this any kind of reunion?"

"I was never sweet to you."

"Mmm, what does a man have to do to get a woman out of his league to give him a smile half as sweet as the ones she gives to that brooding—"

"Ten million beli," Hoku said on instinct. She paused then, suddenly growing pale as she half turned to Shanks, stepping a step back but unable to get very far with her arm still hooked through his—Shanks let her go a little ways away.

(But not very far.)

"Actually, wait, I take that—"

"Why, dove," Shanks laughed, grinning almost boyishly. "I suppose that could be easily arranged—"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Hoku grumbled, trying to force the embarrassed red crawling up her neck to disappear. Shanks watched the dark flush along the nape of her neck with half-lidded eyes. "I know that amount ain't much these days to an Emperor of the seas—"

"It isn't that," Shanks said lightly, his words curling playfully. Hoku blinked, looking back up at him curiously.

Deep red stood out brightly against the expanse of white. Strands of Shanks' hair tickled against the side of her head as Hoku froze. Shanks leaned down, curling around her, smoothly tucking her against his side—the action forced Hoku to bend a bit, back arching ever so slightly as Shanks' lips brushed against her ear.

Hoku caught a glimpse of dark eyes beneath crimson strands. They curved, playful as always at the corners, but still a shudder threatened to run through her—the light press of Shanks' fingers on the side of her hip—when did he move his hand—

"You're worth much more than that, dove."

Hoku swallowed. She meant to say, "Oh, yeah?" but the sound that came out instead was a soft, slightly shaky, "Mmnh?"

Shanks hummed in affirmation, his eyes absently sliding behind her. "But I suppose it's easy to forget that when you've been surrounded by men who don't quite..." his gaze swept over the passed out, foaming marines at their feet, "Know how to value a woman properly, aye?"

Shanks paused briefly, brows raising slightly in surprise as he glanced down to the slender, scarred fingers now examining Gryphon, slid clean from its sheath. His sword rested with care in Hoku's hands as she inspected the current status of the blade.

Her eyes were half-lidded in faux disinterest, expression cool as she absently met his brightening gaze.

"And a heinous, shameless pirate would know better?"

"Hmm," Shanks grinned, walking the two of them back deeper into port. He remembered there being quite the delicious chef charring food in an open fire pit by the port.

"I suppose we'll have to find out."

-the shanks was too self-indulgent, anytime i think of writing a little bit of this man, he manages to steal another paragraph from me

#memos #memos au #hoku #shanks #trafalgar law #monkey d garp #tsuru #shakku #hola #shanks you man you #let this be a teaser #to an update i swear #tysm for your patience #i hope it was a fun read #monkey d luffy

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greeenchrysanthemums · 4 months

Note

I'm so sorry for the spam reblog of your GG rivals au stuff, but!!!! I'M SO. Ahem, I'm so so normal about it (<- lies).

I'm so curious how Gem got her start in the army and how she advanced rank seemingly so quickly! I mean I don't know the ages in this but I assume she's mayyybe in her late twenties? I dunno just a guess, but it also begs the question of when she joined? I mean you said that she always wanted to join the army so I'd imagine her joining at a similar age as Etho. Either way! Geminislay!

I just love this au so much! I'm gonna think about it all the time ♡

Hello! It's so exciting to get asks for this au! I'm so glad that people seem to like it so much. And not to worry, I quite enjoying seeing everyone being so excited about my au in my notifications. It is a delight.

As for your question:

She did join the army at around the same age Etho had, so maybe 16-17 (he is 9 or so years older than her here).

After leaving her hometown and enlisting, she became Impulse's squire. This was where she met Scott as well. He was a friend of Impulse's, and therefore she naturally seen a lot of him. They all grew close very quickly.

Right from the start, she showed exceptional swordsmanship, as well as brilliant organizational skills. She was quick-witted and a natural leader capable of taking charge in stressful situations, so her climb in rank was only natural.

Her first promotion was, coincidentally, because of Grian. She was only a few months into her stay at the castle when an explosion was set off in the courtyard and the weapons room was broken in to. While everyone else was panicked and unsure of what to do, she stepped up and led evacuation efforts before running off on her own to face Grian. She was the only one who managed to stop him from taking a great deal of weaponry, and even had him restrained for a period of time before he escaped. This bumped her right up into knighthood, where she was finally able to serve beside her friends instead of under them.

She would remain a knight for several years after that, and she was regularly assigned to deal with all things Grian since she seemed to be the only one capable of subduing him. It was never anything as grand as breaking into the castle again, but she helped stop her fair share of riots, and ran him out of town before he could start anything all together.

Her next major promotion wouldn't be until she was around 23-24. She ended up fighting in a war with a neighboring kingdom (more details on that another time, I do not want to spoil everything too quickly) in which she took charge of many battles, as well as worked with the previous commander to formulate strategies.

She was at first seen as arrogant and cocky by her peers for how quick she was to input her own ideas and boss them around, but that didn't last very long as it became evident that she knew what she was doing. In fact, she quickly became highly respected, maybe even a little feared, for how deadly and efficient she was.

Following the death of the previous commander during the war, Ren only saw it fit that he give the title and responsibilities over to her despite her young age. She had more than proved herself time and time again, and there was no one better for the job.

#geminitay #GG rivals au #life series #hermitcraft #and as the current story goes she would be around 28-29 #for the record I am not fully sure how the ranking system works for knights #all i know are squire knight and commander/general #my husband has tried many times to explain it to me (he inspired this au) but it just flies over my head for some reason #but accuracy isn't too important to me to be honest I am simply having fun #it is a made up world anyhow the ranking can be what I want of it #GG asks

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rinwritesfics · 4 months

Text

The Cabin

Plot: The day before Life Day, you and Wolffe are sent to a safehouse as you harbor feelings for each other.

Warnings: minor angst in the form of frostnip, a lead-in to sex but not full-on sex

Word Count: 2373 (I have no control, nor do I have any shame about this.)

Author’s Note: A fic for the Secret Santa Gift Exchange by @cloneficgiftexchange. @221bshrlocked, I really hope you like this! After reading the prompts, this wouldn’t get out of my head, and I’ve never been more of a Wolffe simp than I am now. The prompts are bolded.

This was the worst. You weren’t sure how you were assigned to this, but somehow, you were. And right before Life Day, no less. This planet felt like it was colder than the depths of space, despite it being impossible. But, as you looked at Wolffe, who was leading the two of you to a safe house for him no less, you started to wonder if it was possible.

The nice thing about being a civvie medic assigned to the army was the army seemed to take great care in the comfort of the civvie positions. But you could see they didn’t afford the troopers the same luxury. He was wearing his harsh weather kit, but it was thin. And if you were feeling a bit chilled, you couldn’t imagine how he was feeling as you both trekked through the blizzard.

“Keep up,” he said a bit gruffly through his helmet’s modulator, but the usual bite in his tone was lacking. Something was wrong.

“Commander.”

“Keep. Up.”

The bite was back, and worse than usual. Something was bothering him immensely, and it wasn’t you. You kept up as ordered.

He kept flexing his fingers as subtly as he could, but you caught it. It was in that action that your thoughts were confirmed. You had to move faster to get to shelter, before frostbite set in.

Commander Wolffe wasn’t one to bring to light his physical discomfort – even to you. According to General Plo, the commander listened to you more than any other medic. You figured it was probably because you were a civvie and not one of his brothers.

To your surprise, Wolffe turned back to you and let you catch up with him.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have taken that tone with you,” he said just loud enough to be heard over the wind.

“No apology necessary, Commander. You’re right, we have to keep moving.” You nodded, then gently patted his arm, keeping pace with your previous speed. The cabin started to show not far from you and you both sped up as much as possible through the flakes as they pelted you both.

Inside the small cabin, it was cold and dark, but there was no draft inside which improved things. You flipped on the breaker box, then the water heater, and turned on a lamp beside one of the chairs in the main room. As you went to check how frozen the fireplace flue is, you noticed Wolffe was examining the modestly-furnished place, but shivering a little more than you were.

“Commander.”

“Almost done,” he grumbled, still inspecting the cabin.

“It’s fine. Come here.”

He spun around to you. “Excuse me?”

“I’m a medic, and right now, I have concerns about your health. The general sent me along to ensure your health and safety during this time, and I won’t let you freeze to death, especially on the first night.”

He sighed heavily through his modulator, then pulled off the helmet and scowled.

“Gloves next, please.”

“Why?” he barked, then seemed a bit cowed.

“Gloves, Commander,” you said in a tone with patience that was thinning.

He grumbled again, then started to pull off his damp gloves. It was difficult, so you stepped in to help. The tips of his fingers were starting to turn pink and you pulled off your gloves to touch his hands and examine them.

“Numbness giving way to pins and needles?” you asked quietly.

“Yes,” he said, his tone a bit quieter.

“Toes, too?”

“Just cold.”

“Bear with me here.” You gently took one hand between yours, enveloping his fingers as best you could. They were very cold, even to you. You hissed, then said in a concerned tone, “Wolffe, why didn’t you say h-how bad it is?”

He shook his head. “I didn’t want to worry you.”

“Well, now I’m extra worried. The water heater will take a while to warm up and I have to prep the cold flue for a fire. There are very few options to fighting back this frostnip of yours right away, and I don’t imagine the rest of the openings of your armor are much better off compared to what happened to your gloves.”

He shook his head. “I’ll be fine.”

You added quietly, “Like hells you will. Go find some blankets and, I say this in the most professional way possible, strip off your damp clothing to wrap yourself in the blankets.”

He looked at you with an eyebrow raised and eyes wider than usual, then turned away just as his cheeks showed a bit more color. Considering his cheeks were probably flushed from some of the chill already, you shut down the idea that coloring could have been a blush.

You dug through supplies in the cabinets, then found a hairdryer amongst other items, and started to try to warm up the flue enough it wouldn’t spit back smoke when you lit the fire. After a few minutes, Wolffe’s scoff sounded behind you, and you turned to him. He was bundled in a couple blankets, carrying a couple more with him.

“A hairdryer?” he asked, a bit of disbelief in his tone.

“Yes, Commander, you ever lit a fire in a fireplace that’s cold?”

He shook his head.

“I’ve seen it. It’s thermodynamics as the cold air sinks -”

He held up his hand and you stopped. “I get it.”

You nodded and turned back to trying to warm the flue. “How are you feeling? Your hands starting to warm up?”

“Not a ton, but things haven’t gotten worse.” He walked over to the water heater and huffed a sigh. He read out the temperature to you, one that was good enough, and you told him to grab a bowl and run the faucet before filling it. The heated water wouldn’t be at optimal temperature, but it would be better.

He turned to you and said as he filled the bowl, “Why couldn’t we use the electric stove to warm the water?”

You paused. “Kriff.”

He chuckled. “Suppose I could’ve thought of that, too. Honestly, the fact you thought about the flue temperature is impressive.”

“As a medic, they teach about survival as well as everything else. Guess something stuck.” You smiled a little, teasing yourself for the most part.

The kitchen faucet stopped, and he fumbled a bit with the bowl in the sink. You set down the hairdryer and came over to help him get it to the table. He grumbled a bit about it, but didn’t say anything definitive.

After, you put on a kettle to boil water for the cocoa you found earlier. You were aware as he watched you… well, like a wolf as you moved about he small cabin, getting hot cocoa set before him and going back to the fireplace.

You started a small fire shortly after, relieved when the smoke starts up the chimney and doesn’t come back down. Putting a couple logs in, you let the fire grow a bit before heading back to the dining table to check him.

“How are the fingers doing?”

“Better,” he said quietly. Something else was bugging him, as the clipped, gruff tone was back.

“So what’s bothering you?”

He grumbled nonsense.

“Commander,” you said sternly.

He huffed. “I should be the one getting the fire going.”

“Why?”

“I’m the commander. I shouldn’t just be sitting and doing nothing.”

“Wrong. You’re under strict orders from the medic to get better. You’re healing. Commander, frostnip isn’t child’s play – it can cause actual damage, if I may remind you.”

“Well, don’t remind me,” he bit out, then looked ashamed.

“I know I’m not one of your brothers, but that doesn’t mean I want to see you suffer.”

He grumbled, “You’re a medic. Course you don’t want to see suffering.”

“It’s not just that, Commander. The 104th matters to me almost like family, okay?”

He looked up at you, a bit surprised.

“I know, I get it, I’m civvie-born. Or, what was it Comet called it…?”

“Nat-born,” Wolffe said quietly.

“Right, that. Not fond of that term because of how it reflects on you boys.” You grumble a bit, causing him to smile. “Anyway, I’m not like you boys, but I still care.”

Wolffe’s mouth dropped open, cheeks flushing a bit again.

“You okay, Commander?”

“Y-yeah.”

You look at him with concern.

“I’m fine,” he growled, then stood up from the table, leaving the bowl behind, then sitting on the couch.

You walked over to him and sat beside him. “Commander, if something is wrong, I need to know.”

“Alright, alright….” He sighed. “But don’t laugh at me.”

You nod and wait.

“I think… I think I love you,” he said softly.

Your mouth dropped open. “Y-you do?”

He nodded, looking slightly uncomfortable. “Look, I know I’m your commander technically, but I couldn’t help it. You’re so kriffing persistent, in my brain all the time. Thinking about your smile, your laugh, how it would feel to kiss you in the snow….”

You smiled softly. “Commander….”

He looked at you, the pleading in his eyes catching you off-guard, as did the slight wince as he prepared for the worst.

You whispered, “Wolffe….”

The worry in his eyes vanished, replaced with hope.

“I… I have feelings for you, too.”

He sat up, then gently took your cheek in his hand. “Mesh’la… I want to kiss you.”

You nodded, then leaned forward and your lips brushed his. He cupped the back of your head in his free hand and he pulled you into the kiss. You both got lost in the kiss, letting the time you’ve gone apart melt away as you make up for it all. All the pain and longing disappear, leaving warmth and love behind in their wake. Eventually, you both pulled apart to breathe. He welcomed you into the blanket cocoon he had, holding you against his half-naked body. You blushed, but wrapped your arms around him anyway as you shared the blankets.

Wolffe softly said, “I know it’s a little early, but I think I got what I wanted for Life Day.”

“Oh, did you?” you laughed softly.

He nodded, a smile on his face. “I get to be with you. I’ve been trying to figure out how to talk to you about the possibility of us for a while, now.”

You smiled shyly. “Yeah? You wanted me for Life Day?”

He smiled softly. “In a way. It’s not a holiday song type of wish since you’re a person and not an object….”

You laughed. “That’s okay. I want to be yours, anyway.”

“You’re sure?” he asked hopefully.

You nodded.

“I want to kiss you again.”

“Yes, please,” you whispered.

His lips were warm compared to what you were expecting and you responded almost immediately. His hands rested on your waist and you moved closer to him.

He pulled back a little, then grinned. “I can think of a way that we can warm up more.”

“Why, Commander, what are you proposing?” you asked teasingly, then your breath hitched as his hand moved to the middle of your hip.

“Would it be too fast, or have we been pining long enough?” he asked in a dizzyingly gruff tone. This time, it was mixed with a bit of lust.

You grinned. “Pining long enough.”

He leaned in again, smiling, then kissed you, this time more passionately. The two of you leaned back on the couch, with you looking up at him, and he gripped your hip a bit tighter. His other hand, still a tad chilly, started to slide under your shirt, causing you to gasp softly into his mouth. He took the opportunity to kiss you open-mouthed, then move his hand higher.

“This okay?” he whispered into the kiss.

“Yes,” you whispered back. His lips were so intoxicating and you arched your back as his fingers traced closer to your breast. They finally landed over your bra and he started to caress the first curve. The touch was muted by the fabric still between you and you pulled back from the kiss to slip off your shirt and your bra. His eyes widened as he looked down at you, fingers gently touching the swell of your breast again.

“Wow,” he said appreciatively. “All for me?”

“Always has been,” you said softly back, causing a guttural groan from him, one that made your thighs clench. “Are we really doing this, Wolffe? Are you sure I’m the one you want?”

He nodded. “Yes. And something tells me General Plo planned on this happening, otherwise he wouldn’t have sent us alone.”

“Remind me to get him a gift basket when we’re back at the Venator,” you chuckled.

“Will do. Now, I want to show you how much I’ve wanted you for so long.”

You grinned, then pulled him back down into a kiss, ready for a long night of love and passion in front of the warm fire.

Bonus!:

The next morning, the blizzard finally calmed down, making it safe to step outside into the light flurries. You grinned at Wolffe and pulled him outside, both of you fully dressed in the clothes that dried by the fire. It was still chilly and the flakes immediately stuck to his hair, but you didn’t care. You pulled him to your lips and kissed him, surprising him. It wasn’t a big gift, but it was a start.

Pulling back after the long kiss, he grinned. “What is this all about?”

“You’d said you wanted to kiss me in the snow, so I thought I might make that a reality.” You smiled back.

The chuckle that escaped him was just as warm as the love you made last night. “Oh, mesh’la. That’s not what I quite meant. I meant playing in the snow and kissing you.”

“Why not both?” You bent down and scooped up some snow, throwing it at his chestplate. His eyes widened in mischief.

“You sure you want to do this?” he asked slyly.

“Will it get me kissed?” you tease.

He growled playfully and you knew you were in for it.

“Happy Life Day, Wolffe.” You grinned.

“Mm, happy Life Day, cyar’ika.” He grinned back before he got you back for the snowball.

#tcw wolffe x reader #tcw wolffe #clone fic gift exchange #lde23

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bitimdrake · 1 year

Note

pssssst hey quick question on the dl - who is helena bartinelli??

i cannot answer anon questions on the dl, so answer on the up-high, which she deserves:

HUNTRESS

a.k.a. Helena Bertinelli, a.k.a. Gotham's coolest and most notable antihero, crossbow-wielder, and purple bat-associated vigilante.

Helena was born to an Italian mob family, but spent her childhood blissfully unaware of the family business--until her entire family was slaughtered in front of her when she was eight. She stayed with family overseas for the rest of her childhood, learning how to fight and protect herself.

She came back to Gotham for both vengeance and justice, and became one of Gotham's many vigilantes. Though her focus is on the mob, she'll step in to stop any crime.

She's also a schoolteacher! Good for her.

She is discerning in who she chooses to kill, but she does kill. As you can imagine, this put her at odds with Batman for a long time. Helena is pretty much the premiere example of Bruce trying to claim control over every vigilante in Gotham, no matter how little right he has. The argument on killing/ethics is valid, but his default was basically "do exactly what I say and fall in line under my command, or stop completely," which is why he's an asshole control freak and why I'm constantly mad about how she was treated 👍

She was an absolute mainstay of the Batfamily before Flashpoint (2011) and it is personally hurtful to me that people don't know her. (Like, to be frank? She had far more of a presence than Damian or (living) Jason in the post-crisis era.)

You could count on seeing her in any major Batfamily crossover, from Cataclysm to Battle for the Cowl.

She was central to the biggest Batfamily crossover ever, No Man's Land, where Gotham was locked off from the rest of the country and turned into a lawless wasteland. Bruce left to sulk for the first couple of months and in absence of any other vigilantes in the field (only Oracle having remained in the city), Helena donned the mantle of the Bat for herself to protect the city. And when Batman came back, in return for all she'd done, she got...yelled at, assigned impossible tasks and criticized for not achieving them, her costume stolen and given to someone else, lied to, abandoned in the face of impossible odds, and shot multiple times protecting kids. Absolute fucking hero, honestly.

She also was on the Justice League for a while, though admittedly I have barely touched that run. To my understanding, despite nominating her for the position, Bruce was also the one to revoke her membership there.

Fortunately! things improved!!

In the early/mid 2000s, Helena joined the Birds of Prey, Oracle's team, and found legit friendships and support there with teammates like Dinah Lance/Black Canary. She finally got more respect in the community, and had a much better time.

Additional relationships include:

A big sister/annoying little brother type thing with Tim, who may disapprove of her killing but simply likes making friends too much :)

A great relationship with Vic Sage/the Question

One single issue where she met Steph that presented SUCH interesting potential that I desperately wish had been followed up on

On and off romantic/sexual tension with Dick, depending on the writer, which culminated in a single hook up that apparently most people around here would rather pretend didn't happen, though I really don't think it's that bad

A complicated relationship with Barbara, partially due to clashing personalities and conflicting morals (with Babs being nearly as much of a control freak as Bruce), and partially due to a shared history with Dick because DC loves making women be catty

Surely others from her first solo or time on the JLA that I don't know well enough to list!

She's rad and determined and takes no shit but cares a lot, and I love her. We deserve more stories tying her teaching day job into her night work. We also deserve more stories with her in general.

If you would like additional Helena beyond just cruising my tag, I recommend:

Batman/Huntress: Cry for Blood - far more Huntress than Batman, this is a great 6-issue miniseries about Helena reckoning with her past, ft the Question.

Batman: No Man's Land - if you have the time for it, a big storyline but worth it.

Birds of Prey vol 1 (1999) - Helena starts to appear around issue #57 and becomes a central character from there.

#*#ask #anon #*dc #dc #dc ref #helena bertinelli #huntress #batfam #batman #10to2

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edenesth · 8 months

Text

Undying Bonds (Part 11)

Pairing: Hongjoong x fem!reader, Seonghwa x fem!reader

AU: zombie apocalypse au

Word Count: 6.4k

Summary: What could be worse than being separated from the love of your life in a zombie apocalypse? Hongjoong was forced to leave you behind with his friend, Seonghwa, as he ventures out alone to search for the rest of his missing group members. Will Hongjoong be successful in his solo mission to find his members? Will he be able to return to you unscathed? And what happens when you're stuck with his caring best friend, who is hopelessly in love with you, for too long?

Part 10 | Masterlist | Part 12

"Please tell me this has been perfected."

In the large double-storey pet store that has now been completely transformed and used as the lab of Stray Kids' very own scientist, were several super zombies locked up in the glass cages that were previously there to hold the animals in the store.

Fortunately for the gang, the cages were sturdy and robust enough to now hold even physically enhanced zombies. Not only that, it was almost like the facilities were made for Seungmin because of the additional section which allows him to feed the creatures his solution without having to take them out and risk getting anyone bitten.

Seungmin rolls his eyes at Minho's impatience, the elder male has been bugging him endlessly about his latest zombie experiment.

While the existing ones had the speciality of super strength, this newer and more advanced version will possess the intelligence to tell its master apart from victims and will also be able to follow simple instructions by registering specific terms such as 'attack' which is obviously meant to kill, 'stop' to halt their actions and 'cage' where they'd obediently return to their designated enclosures.

"Even if I did manage to perfect the recipe for this version, it will only be a prototype. Further testing is still required, it won't be ready for field operations anytime soon."

Minho clenches his fists in dismay, he did not like the answer he was getting, "How long will it take then?"

The younger shrugged his shoulders, busily looking through a microscope as he tries to determine the next best substance that should be used in manipulating the zombie cells in order to achieve the goal of this experiment.

"I can't tell for sure, it could probably take up to weeks or even months. We have to be certain that it really is a success before we release it anywhere. You know we can't afford to repeat what happened with Jisung, the one that he was assigned to handle was obviously not ready for operation yet."

Moving to jot down some notes, Seungmin fixes his glasses before pursing his lips, "Speaking of which, do remind me again why you put poor Jisung in detention for that incident? If anything, it should be me in the timeout room now, it was my solution that malfunctioned and you know that."

The second-in-command pressed his lips into a thin line, "Don't act like you don't already know why. I say I don't play favourites but you're the only one on this team personally hand-picked and recruited by me. It would hurt my pride too much to have to punish you, you're lucky Chan's occupied enough by Jongho to notice the fault was in you."

Seungmin nods wordlessly, despite his disagreement. He truly wouldn't have minded being the one receiving the punishment, it would only be the consequence of his own mistake after all and he was more than fine with that.

"Just do well from now on and try not to make another mistake, take Jisung's punishment as your lesson."

At the mention of Jongho, Minho was once again reminded of your problematic presence. He was beginning to regret his decision in recruiting Jongho; had he known that the entrance of the new recruit would bring them this much trouble, he'd have dissuaded the gang leader from doing so in the first place.

They should have just completed the convenience store operation swiftly; he should have just killed you then. If it weren't for you, Chan would still be Chan and not the mess that he's become now.

His expression darkened and he gritted his teeth when feeling the slight throb around his throat, the humiliation kicking in at the reminder of Chan's earlier act of aggression towards him, "Besides, I need you to perfect this new weapon for me soonest possible."

Minho was filled with determination to create some chaos, even if that meant costing a few measly lives. A small price to pay for his satisfaction, a sacrifice he was willing to make if it could serve as a reminder to Chan that he was no pushover.

Seungmin's brows furrowed as he scratched his chin in confusion.

"Why? Is that Chan hyung's order? Last I checked, he doesn't care much for this version so long as what we normally used still worked."

Finally looking up from his work to take a proper look at Minho, he sees the elder rubbing a hand on the skin of his neck that was now bruised, "Wait a minute, where'd you get that? Did you get into a fight with one of the new residents?"

The scowl on Minho's face was enough to send chills down the younger male's spine.

"What did I say about asking unnecessary questions about things that do not concern you? Save the curiosity for your job and just do as I say. Don't make me regret choosing you, Seungmin."

The team scientist settles for a quick nod, wanting nothing more than to put out the fire burning within his superior, "I'll be back soon to check on your progress, let me know if you need a restock for anything in here."

With a salute, Seungmin observes questioningly as the senior gang member marches out of his lab in a rather foul mood. He wonders to himself what could have possibly happened out there while he was stuck in here the entire day.

Huh, what's got his panties in a twist? He sure is extra grumpy today.

You see, being the resident genius had its perks. For instance, not having to risk his life and participate in any on-field operations but that also meant Seungmin remains holed up in his lab nearly all day every day.

As much as he enjoys the peace and quiet, excluding the zombie grunts he's now grown so used to that it's just become white noise to him at this point, it came with the price of constantly being out of touch with daily happenings.

He usually only receives updates during general meetings or occasionally during mealtime when he listens in on his teammates' chatters since he wasn't particularly close with anyone. Because would you believe it isn't easy to form close relationships with people you rarely interact with? Crazy, I know.

But yep, that pretty much sums up Seungmin's social life both pre and post-apocalypse.

Aside from being an introvert, his overly nerdy self has rarely ever appeared as appealing to most people. His former classmates tend to distance themselves from him and he'd consider himself lucky if bullies decide to leave him alone for a day.

He thinks people are complicated and he never knows how to please them. If you're dumb, you're automatically a loser but he's smart and yet, was still classified as a loser in their books.

So what does it really take to be cool then?

Seungmin has not the slightest clue about that and could honestly care less. That was probably why he preferred life post-apocalypse more because zombies were definitely much easier to understand compared to humans.

At least we all know that zombies only want one thing from us but humans, on the other hand, can be much scarier and more sinister.

He remembered being sceptical of Minho's offer when the elder first approached him back then but eventually accepted when he realises Minho sincerely cares only for his skills and nothing else. That much was easy to understand.

Sighing to himself, he decides to go back to focusing on his work and will leave the missing puzzle pieces until dinner time when he gets to listen in on conversations between the others.

He wasn't sure if he should be feeling excited, he'd be meeting the team's newest member along with the new residents by then as well. He hears there is a female amongst them, which easily sparked his interest since he hasn't interacted with or seen anyone of the opposite gender in a while now.

Should be fun, I hope she's at least pretty. Could use some eye candy around here, heh.

"I still can't believe that Christopher's the one- the mastermind behind Stray Kids. I mean, I know he hated his life before but I didn't think he'd actually take things this far. I guess I don't know him that well after all."

Wringing your hands together uncomfortably, you stared up at your boyfriend to convey your feelings of disdain.

"Being here doesn't feel right, Joong. I don't want to have anything to do with these people; these cruel and selfish people who prey on the weak for their own gain. Seonghwa got hurt because of them too."

The captain clenches his fists at the reminder, he was furious when he first learned of his best friend's near-death experience that had been carefully orchestrated by the gang.

"God, they disgust me. We can't let Jongho take part in any of this…"

Hongjoong nods, caressing his thumbs over your knuckles, "I know, baby, I promise we'll think of something. We're getting the hell out of here, that's for sure. But we can't be rash, Jongho's made a deal with Bang Chan and if we try anything reckless, things could turn out for the worst. You understand that, don't you?"

You gulped, tightening your grasp on his hands, "I understand, this must all be so stressful for you. I want you to let me know if there's anything at all that I can do to help… even if that means using me as bait, I'm sure it'll work well against Chris."

He immediately frowns at your words, holding your hands tight against his chest, "We'll never do that, don't you even think about it. I won't allow you to suggest such silly ideas again, we're all getting out of here together, you hear me? I… I can't lose any more of you, okay?"

A lump begins forming in your throat when his voice broke, you nodded quickly in guilt to calm him from getting too worked up.

"You're right. I'm sorry, Joong," He shakes his head, collecting himself before smiling fondly down at you, "You're always so selfless, I think that's your flaw if I had to name one."

With a scoff, you pushed him away playfully by the chest to which he cheekily fought back, pulling you closer to press his lips firmly against your forehead. You fluttered your eyes shut to cherish the moment, but your breath hitched when your thoughts suddenly drift to Seonghwa and your eyes snapped open at that.

Before Hongjoong could ask you about it, your interaction was cut short by a sheepish-looking Jongho standing by the edge of the bed where you and your boyfriend were currently lying on.

"Gosh, I hate to ruin the moment. But hyung, can we discuss strategies? If I'm not mistaken, Bang Chan called for a general meeting. I think he's planning to properly introduce me to the team soon, it's almost like he can't wait to trap me here for good." You winced at the youngest's conclusion, he was probably right.

Knowing Christopher, he'd stop at nothing to get what he wanted and he really did seem determined to keep you here.

Getting off the king-sized bed that you and Hongjoong earlier called dibs on, you pat Jongho on his shoulder, "No worries, maknae. You guys talk, I'll go check on the rest." You smiled at your boyfriend to assure him you were fine before leaving the two to their planning and strategising.

Walking back to the main area, you were nearly knocked off your feet being engulfed in bear hugs by Yunho, Yeosang and Wooyoung who repeatedly told you again and again how much they missed you.

"Yah, any tighter and you'll all suffocate her to death," Mingi told the three off, dragging them away and grinning proudly when his actions managed to elicit laughter from you. Wooyoung pouts at you before running to smack the tall male on his back, "Do you think we're idiots who don't know how to control our strength? You're just jealous the attention is not on you!"

The taller of the two cried out in pain from the smack he received before quickly defending himself from the accusation. Shaking your head, you watched endearingly as the two squabbled while Yunho and Yeosang did nothing but add fuel to the fire, enthusiastically egging the two on to fight.

God, I missed these idiots.

Your eyes darted around in concern when you failed to locate Seonghwa anywhere in the store, now remembering that his wound probably needed tending to. Biting uneasily down on your bottom lip, you headed to the washroom to check if he was there.

A loud gasp escapes your lips when you spot him bent over a sink in the male washroom in what seemed like excruciating pain.

His hand clutched onto the area of his wound where blood was beginning to soak the old bandage, "Hwa!" His head shoots up upon hearing your voice and he curses to himself, so much for not wanting to worry you.

"Oh my god, your stitches broke open! You need to sit down, come on," Pulling his arm gently over your shoulder, you guided him hurriedly into one of the stalls to sit him down on the covered toilet, "Wait here, I'll be back real quick with an emergency kit."

With a hand on his cheek, you pecked his temple before running out in hopes of getting your hands on an emergency drug and suture kit from the nearest pharmacy you could find.

Seonghwa lifted a hand to touch the spot where you kissed, feeling his cheeks burn up and his heart pounding twice as fast, his flustered state doing a good job of distracting him from the pain he was experiencing. The bloodied bandage and incision on his abdomen no longer bothered him at the moment.

He was beginning to think to himself that maybe getting injured wasn't all that bad if it meant you'd always treat him with such care, he was willing to be hurt forever if this was the case.

The heartache he felt when he witnessed Hongjoong holding you close, Hongjoong kissing you, Hongjoong just being your boyfriend; it was an indescribable feeling. No matter how much time has passed since you first began dating the captain, Seonghwa still thinks he will never be able to get used to seeing you two together.

His heart skips a beat when you rush back in with two different kits in your hands, not wasting another minute to sanitise your hands before you start cleaning out his wound.

Your soft and delicate touches made him dizzy, or perhaps it was the loss of blood but all he could see now was you.

He feels like he could face anything in the world fearlessly so long as he had you by his side and as morbid as it sounds, that included death. That's right, Seonghwa would even die for you, if only you knew how he felt.

"I need you to stay with me. Don't close your eyes, do you hear me?" Your hands trembled as you tried to steady yourself. It felt like a repeat of the convenience store incident, except this was less severe.

The cleaning of the wound was done and just when you were about to move on to the stitching, you start panicking when he sways lightly in his seat, "Talk to me, Hwa! Please, you promised not to scare me like this again!"

You took his face in your hands to make him look at you, that familiar warm feeling once again coursing through your being when he wraps his fingers weakly around your wrists.

"Okay, sweetheart, I'll do as you say. Just get it over with, yeah?" He mumbled, fighting to stay awake.

Smiling tearfully up at him, you ignore the butterflies in your stomach from the pet name he used, "Thank you, Hwa. Just… keep talking to me, it'll be over before you know it." Taking a deep breath to calm yourself, you immediately got to work after injecting him with a shot of anaesthesia to numb all the pain he was feeling.

You distracted him the whole time by asking him countless silly questions like what was his favourite colour, food, movie, etc.

Finishing up with the final stitch, you narrowed your eyes jokingly at him when you realised he'd answered the questions with your favourite things rather than his own, "Wait a minute, those aren't your favourites. They're mine, Park Seonghwa."

He nodded slowly, "That's right, I like whatever you like. Do you… want to know what's my favourite thing in the world?"

This is it, this is my chance. I'm sorry, Hongjoong, just let me be selfish this once.

All of a sudden, you were brought back to that night in the back room of the convenience store, back to the moment when Seonghwa was about to tell you something.

As much as you dreaded it, you might have had an inkling of what he wished to tell you. It seems like he was planning to pick up where he left off now. Seeing the desperation in his eyes, you couldn't find it in yourself to stop him from saying what he so badly wanted to say.

Hands busy securing a fresh bandage around his injury, you took your eyes off his face to focus on the task at hand instead.

"I don't know, Hwa, what could it be? Is it your precious Star Wars Lego collection or Animal Crossing?" You answered in a lighthearted tone, hoping for your hunch to be wrong for once.

Satisfied with your work and relieved that his condition was stable again, you handed him some water to drink before heading out to the sink to cleanse your hands more thoroughly.

Distracted by that one stubborn strand of dirt stuck in your nail, you don't notice Seonghwa staggering towards you from behind until his front touches your back. He plants his hands on the edge of the sink right by your sides, basically trapping you between his arms.

With wide eyes, you look up to stare at him through the reflection of the mirror and exhale shakily when he moves to rest his chin tiredly on your shoulder.

The closeness sends your heart into a frenzy, "Damn, you know me so well. I do love my Lego collection and Animal Crossing but... none of those can compare to you, sweetheart. It's you, you're my favourite. It's always been you."

You stilled, your heart beating so loudly against your chest that you could hear it in your own ears.

"I know you belong to Hongjoong and… I have no intention of stealing you from him nor do I have the confidence to do so, everyone knows you're a match made in heaven." His words sounded bitter despite the smile he tries to keep on his face.

"I just… wanted you to know, I've been in love with you for a long time now. I honestly can't remember when it all started but I've loved you since before you even met Hongjoong."

Tears begin to well in your eyes and your heart aches for him, you had no idea he had such feelings for you and for so long too. You couldn't imagine how painful it must have been for him all these years to have to see you be with his best friend.

Poor Seonghwa didn't deserve to feel this way.

He deserved the world for all the kindness he's shown to not only you but to all those around him, "God, I'm so sorry, Hwa… I didn't know."

Seeing your tears, he instinctively moved to circle his arms around your frame from behind, ready to provide comfort as always, "You don't have to apologise, you have nothing to be sorry for. It's not your fault that you don't feel the same… I'm happy so long as you are, I'm just really glad it's Hongjoong you fell for. I'll… continue to be here for you as your friend, unless you no longer want me to."

The panic you felt when he loosened his grasp on you was incomprehensible. You turn around quickly in his hold to face him, "What- of course, I'll want you here still. You're important to me too, how many times must I tell you that?"

His smile doesn't seem to reach his eyes this time when he moves one hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear before cupping your cheek tenderly.

"And what did I tell you? You can't keep saying things like that to me, it's cruel…" Seonghwa contemplates shortly before continuing, "Tell me, have you ever felt like there's a chance that you could love me back? No matter how slim that may be, even if it's only just once..?"

If he had asked you this back before the zombie apocalypse had started, you would have told him no without hesitation. But things were different now, especially after the separation with Hongjoong.

You've relied on Seonghwa like you never have before and somewhere along the way, he slowly began to mean so much more to you than he ever did. Or maybe he always did but you just never had the opportunity to realise that up until the moment when you were this close to losing him forever.

It would be a total lie if you said that you never once thought about Seonghwa in that way, you've thought to yourself more than once what a good boyfriend he'd be to whichever lucky girl gets to be called his someday.

Without even yourself realising it, he was always the first person that you'd go to whenever Hongjoong was unable to be there due to whatever holding him back; that may be his work, family or friends. Seonghwa, on the other hand, never failed to be there for you regardless of what he had going on with his own life.

At times, you undeniably felt like you could trust Seonghwa to be there for you more than you could Hongjoong. Knowing how busy your boyfriend could get with work, there were times when you opted instead to contact his best friend without him even knowing.

And there has always been something that sets Seonghwa apart from the rest of your friends; while the rest of the boys were naturally like brothers to you, it somehow felt wrong to call him a brother. You could never put a finger on it then but now, things seemed clearer.

Perhaps somewhere deep down, he's always been special to you too.

Upon the realisation, your trembling eyes meet his familiar and gentle ones. He was waiting patiently for your answer, the same way he always waits for whenever you needed him and he never let you down even once. The warm feeling you now felt when you were with him, all points to one thing.

Your feelings for Seonghwa are now clear as day. But this was also the part where the major problem comes in, because how could you love two people at the same time?

You still loved Hongjoong the same, or did you?

Of course, you did, but how is it possible that you also feel the same way about Seonghwa?

"I…" You croaked out, the words stuck in your throat. How could you tell Seonghwa that you love him back without ruining things with Hongjoong?

This is wrong, I can't do this to Hongjoong... but Seonghwa deserves to know the truth too. Oh god, what do I do?

Caught in the crossroads of your emotions, you find yourself ensnared in a web of conflicted feelings, torn between the love you feel for two people who hold different yet profound places in your heart. In the quiet moments of introspection, your heart feels like a battleground, where each beat is a reminder of the entangled affections you've come to grapple with.

Your thoughts wander to Hongjoong, the one who has stood by your side, who's offered comfort and support, who's shared his dreams and vulnerabilities. Your love for him is familiar and steady, a relationship that's been cultivated over time.

But then, your mind drifts to Seonghwa, a person who's been your confidant, the one who's understood your quirks and idiosyncrasies like no other. Your connection is a deep well of shared memories and laughter, a bond that's woven from years of shared experiences.

You feel an internal tug-of-war, each emotion pulling you in a different direction. Guilt settles in your chest like a heavy weight, for you never intended for your heart to stray. You question your loyalty, grappling with the enormity of your feelings for both.

Fear creeps in too, the fear of hurting either of them.

You worry about the repercussions your newfound awareness might have on the relationships you hold dear. Doubt gnaws at you, as you contemplate whether your emotions are valid, or whether you're simply betraying the trust placed in you.

You long for clarity, for a clear path forward.

But answers elude you, as you navigate the stormy sea of emotions that surge within you. You wondered if you can continue down the same road, torn between your boyfriend and his best friend. It's a decision that feels impossible to make, for each choice seems to carry its own set of consequences.

In this emotional turmoil, you grapple with your own desires, fears and the implications of your choices. You know that whatever path you take will alter the course of your relationships, and it's a weight you carry heavily.

Noting your conflicted look, Seonghwa couldn't help but feel a sliver of hope growing within him because if you did not feel the same, you would have said no in a heartbeat but the fact that you were having trouble giving him an answer... says something.

Does that mean there's a chance she actually returns my feelings?

Moving his other hand to now cup both your cheeks, he made you look directly up at him, "Do you… love me too?"

The indisputable urge to say yes to his question was enough to answer your own heart.

I do love you, Seonghwa. I know that now.

Just as the answer lies at the tip of your tongue, a voice calling out for you both immediately snaps you out of it. You feel your heart about to jump out of your chest at the person gaping at you by the washroom entrance.

"Umm... guys? What's going on here?"

"What do you mean you're backing out of the deal?"

Bang Chan slams his palms against his desk as he shoots up from his seat in fury. His actions, unfortunately, do little to intimidate Jongho or Hongjoong. The duo expected no less from the gang leader.

The two had made the decision to pay Chan a visit in his office; where they, fingers crossed, would be able to talk things out civilly in hopes of avoiding resorting to any sort of violence that could possibly endanger their friends.

"I said what I said. My captain calls the shots and who am I to go against his orders? Besides, you already know I was never a fan of your gang, to begin with." Hongjoong nods in approval, patting his youngest member on the shoulder to signal that he's done well.

"Look, Chan, I understand you promised Jongho to provide our group with a safe haven in exchange for his services." The captain begins, raising his brows expectantly for the gang leader to calm down, which he thankfully did as he settles back in his seat.

"But you must understand that Jongho only did what he had to do for our group at the time, I'm pretty sure you know better than anyone we wouldn't have stayed put for long. I trust you're well aware that our principles and beliefs do not align, yes? Conflict is sure to arise between us sooner or later anyway, and I think the last thing you'd want is for there to be a war happening within District 9."

Chan looks away from the other leader's patronising gaze, huffing to himself in frustration because Hongjoong was right.

"Don't worry though, we won't be so unreasonable as to still expect hospitality from you and your gang. I also won't be foolish enough to assume you'd be down to form an alliance after this but I'm suggesting a peace treaty of some sort."

Hongjoong does his best to maintain an amicable tone.

"Along with Jongho's departure from your gang, the rest of us will be leaving District 9 as well. You can keep whatever you acquired from the convenience store, we don't want any of it. In fact, we'll pay you back with more resources that we find on our next hunt as a thank you for the generosity you've shown us so far."

The captain leans back in his seat comfortably, confident in his suggestion, "That way, your operation would still be considered a success and you'll even be compensated for Jongho's exit."

Clenching his jaw tight, Chan hated how reasonable the opposing leader's proposal had sounded. If it had been any other person putting this forward, he probably would have agreed in a heartbeat but things were different on a whole other level now.

Hongjoong's group leaving District 9 would mean you leaving too.

And Chan has only just gotten you back after all this while thinking you were dead, he can't possibly let you go so soon. Especially not in this zombie-infested world, he wasn't sure he trusted Hongjoong and your friends enough to protect you well.

Sure, you had Jongho with you but anything can happen out there. Or perhaps he was just making up all sorts of excuses for himself to justify his need in keeping you around.

Besides, Jongho truly was one of a kind. It would be too much of a shame to not have him on the team but as Hongjoong mentioned, Chan knows that his resistance to cooperating and taking part in any of their work would eventually become a problem to the gang.

But still... he must fight to keep you here somehow.

Taking a deep breath, the gang leader composes himself before he speaks. Thousands of ideas run through his mind as he tries to think of a way to convince the two to reconsider and stay.

"That sounds fair to me but captain, have you really thought this through?" Chan sighs dramatically, "Once you leave District 9, you'll be back on the streets full of dangers and insecurities. You'll be worrying about things like where to settle for the night, what to eat if you can't find food, or what happens if there are undead lurking about again. Do you really want that?"

No shit, Sherlock. Thanks for pointing out the obvious.

Chan chews anxiously on his bottom lip when he sees Hongjoong raising a brow sceptically, "I mean, I'm sure you guys could handle yourselves just fine. But... more importantly, think about your poor girlfriend. Things must be extra hard on her, no?"

The captain almost laughs out loud and resists the urge to roll his eyes. Of course, this all circles back to you. This was the real reason Bang Chan refuses to release them, the bastard must be kidding himself if he still thinks he had any chances with you.

The gang leader's persistence was doing nothing but to further intensify your boyfriend's already overprotective energy of you.

Hongjoong plasters on a sarcastically huge smile, "Trust me, I have thought this through well and I assure you, we'll be fine. We have allies ready to help, and I can take care of my own girlfriend just fine, don't you worry about a thing."

Chan was left speechless, at this point realising how firm the two were with their decision. They must have planned everything out carefully and were fully prepared to leave at any time. They didn't feel the want or need to be in District 9, that was new to him because no one has ever denied the offer to stay here.

And here these people were, turning him down left and right. He didn't know how to explain the aura that the two exuded but it was one that demanded respect and Chan was beginning to feel like if he were to be in a fight with them, it'd be one where he'd lose.

In fact, it already feels like he's lost quite miserably.

But Chan didn't become the leader of Stray Kids without his unrelenting attitude; so he continued pressing on with a few more desperate attempts to change their minds, only to be met with smart answers from the duo that were enough to shut him up for good.

Getting up from their seats, Hongjoong and Jongho bowed slightly out of courtesy. The last thing they needed now was to make an enemy out of Stray Kids.

"If there's nothing else, we'll be taking our leave for now."

At the sight of them turning to leave, Chan panics and reaches a hand after the two before blurting out his last resort, "Wait, Jongho! You're already a part of the gang though, you can't just come and go as you please. We have rules to abide by here."

The younger male scoffs out loud at the pathetic attempt to keep them, "You don't actually expect me to buy that now, do you? I'm not even officially initiated yet. I don't have your insignia tattooed on me so technically, I'm barely a part of the gang."

Hongjoong couldn't hide his amusement at the dumbfounded look on Chan's face, Jongho's cleverness only once again proving himself to be a valuable asset.

At that moment, the gang leader has never been more envious of the captain. Hongjoong really does have everything, doesn't he? He's got Jongho and you, everything Chan desires to have as his own.

"Listen, Chan, there's no use trying. We've made up our minds, we're leaving no matter what you say. And... I thought you should know; she begged me to get us out of here. If you care about her, I hope you could at least respect her wishes."

That was the final blow.

It was all Hongjoong had to say to get Chan to quit.

With shoulders slumped and a heavy sigh, the gang leader stood in a quiet resignation that seemed to permeate the air around him. His eyes, once filled with determination, now held a glimmer of defeat. As he looked at Hongjoong, he saw the resolve etched in his expression, he knew that the decision was final.

There was a subtle, heartbreaking grace to his acceptance—a sense of surrender that came from a place of deep understanding. His jaw clenched momentarily, his emotions held in check but the lines of disappointment were etched on his face. The weight of the moment settled in his chest and though his heart ached, he knew there was nothing else he could do.

He eventually nods slowly, giving up, "Fine, you win. But Hongjoong…" The captain straightens up at his name being uttered in such a grim tone, watching as Chan tiredly rubs a hand over his face, "Can I please just speak to her one more time?"

Your boyfriend stills when he senses the heaviness in your former childhood friend's tone.

"I know what I did was unforgivable and trust me when I say, I'll never forgive myself for leaving her either. I just… really need to apologise to her properly for that. And I'm also sorry for how I disrespected you earlier… Thank you for being there for her when I wasn't."

Feeling like this conversation no longer required his presence, Jongho slips out of the office after excusing himself.

Hongjoong crosses his arms over his chest and contemplates for a good minute, "You know, you don't have to thank me for that. It's only my job, I'm her boyfriend. And… I don't think you understand what exactly disappoints her. She's completely moved on from all that's happened back in Australia, but what she can't accept now is who you've become..."

The hopelessness that Chan now felt was endless.

If only he could turn back time, he would have done everything differently. Perhaps then he would have been able to understand the true meaning of happiness that no amount of luxury can ever measure up to.

Deep down, he knew it was a lost cause trying to win you back now. Part of him didn't understand why he bothered trying so hard. Things will never be the same, he's done too much evil to deserve having you back in his life. He supposed he should just be grateful that you were still alive and well, and most importantly, you were happy.

With a faint, sad smile, Chan nodded, a gesture that conveyed his acceptance. He didn't plead, he didn't argue. He had reached the point of understanding that love meant wanting what was best for the other person, even if it meant sacrificing his own desires.

Against his better judgement, Hongjoong actually felt bad for the gang leader, "Look... I'll see what I can do, it's not up to me to decide whether or not you can talk to her. There's nothing that I can do if she refuses to see you, you know that."

Chan's eyes rounded at the unexpected kindness he was shown by your boyfriend, "Th-thank you, Hongjoong... You're a good man, I can see why she loves you so."

Huh, guess he's still human after all.

The captain flashes a small but genuine smile at the gang leader.

"Perhaps we can properly discuss your departure at a later time. You see, Minho was quite eager to have Jongho on board. It'll be a pain in the ass to have to break this news to him. Just... stay for a bit more until we sort that out, yeah?"

Chan winces, the thought of his right-hand man's possible burst of outrage already giving him a headache.

Hongjoong nods, "Sure, I understand."

Keeping his fingers crossed, the captain hopes they'll be able to get out of District 9 with little trouble. If all goes well, you should all be in the safety of Soyeon's place soon.

Damn, this was a long part. I'm still having a hard time deciding who should end up with the reader just like me trying to pick a bias. Anyway, I thought it'd be interesting if you guys got to pick who you prefer (see the poll below). Thank you for reading and as always, I love reading your thoughts, reviews and feedback so feel free to leave a reply, an ask or even a message! <3

Tag list: @aurasblue @tmtxtf @park-simphwa @sunnyhokyu @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna

#ateez #ateez fanfiction #ateez fanfic #kim hongjoong #park seonghwa #ateez hongjoong #ateez seonghwa #zombie apocalypse au #hongjoong x you #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x you #seonghwa x reader #ateez fic #undying bonds

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