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absinthe-of-midnight · 4 months

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Alright I shall elaborate on my "Orange might be foreshadowing a Wolfwood v. Legato fight in the future" theory.

Now Have you heard of dragon variation? If not then let's explain that, if you have a basic idea of how chess works, how they move etc, let's get a little more into that, shall we?

The board has numbered ranks/rows 1 to 8 and lettered files/columns a to h, so the starting position looks like this:

As you can see from the rook onward the order is rook→ knight→ bishop and pawns are at 2 and 7. Pieces on a, b, c are queenside and f, g, h are kingside.

Let's move on to how the pieces move:

Pawns can move 1 square forward and capture pieces that are 1 square diagonally in front of them and from starting position only they are allowed to move 2 squares if both are empty. They cannot move backward but if the white reach's 8 and the black reach's 1 they can be promoted to a piece of a players choosing:

Rooks move in straight lines vertically or horziontally across any number of unoccupied squares, if they land on an occupied square the piece is captured:

they also have a move with a king called castling, it moves the king 2 squares in the direction of the rook while jumping the rook over to the king into the light square adjacent to the kings new position:

Knights move in an L shape, 1 square horziontally or vertically then 2 squares at a right angle in the first direction, jumping over any pieces in between, if they land on an occupied square the piece is captured and the pieces they jump over are not captured:

Bishops move in straight lines diagonally across any number of unoccupied squares, capturing the pieces they land on, both players have a dark square and a light square bishop, bishops can't move onto squares of a different color from their starting square:

Queens can move and capture like both a rook or bishop, in a straight line horizontally, vertically, diagonally across any number of unoccupied squares:

Kings can move 1 square in any direction, outside of castling. If a adjacent square is occupied they can capture:

Kings have a unique restriction in that they cannot move into a square where it would be under attack making it an illegal move.

Pieces become under attack when they occupie a square and risk being taken by the opposite color. If the king is in danger of being in check then the player must use their turn getting the king out of check, either by moving the king, blocking the attacking piece or capturing the attacking piece.

The goal of checkmate is to force the king into an inescapable position, simply capturing isn't enough you have to corner the king to where your opponent has no legal moves left.

Pieces are given value but in this case that doesn't really matter, like pawns for example can be very important in endgame (and in this case they are), some very important things to for strategy is space, control of the center, initiative, which is to attack in a way where your opponent has no choice but to counter. Now let's get into which characters represent which pieces.

First the pawns, whites are in fact the earth federation, why they are is important to countering the dragon variation.

Blacks are no surprise, are Some of the gung-ho guns, one of the ways dragon variation can play out is a race-to-mate pawn storm from opposite sides of the board. A pawn can also have a special move called en passent, the capture by a pawn of an enemy pawn on the same rank and an adjacent file that has just made an initial two-square advance.

The white rooks are ship 3 and Milly, the reason for this is that rooks can be used in defensive and stalemating tactics. They can also be used to blockade and encircle opposing pieces, making them unable to move.

For this reason the both the black rooks are Zazie, a attempted blockade against one of their fellow pieces that is.

The white knights are Meryl and Livio/Razlo. Knights have a distinct strategic advantage compared to other pieces and under certain circumstances can cause a stalemate/draw in endgame as well as give an advantage if a pawnless endgame occurs.

Black knights are Elendira and again Livio/Razlo because of the mentioned above and because of a term a called a piece exchange, I'll explain that in a bit.

Now the bishops, now this may surprise you but the white and black bishop respectively are none other than… Wolfwood and Legato! These pieces play a very important role in dragon variation.

The white and black queens are probably to no surprise Vash and Knives, this is due to the queens mobility.

the kings are the ones with least mobility and the pieces you must safeguard at all costs and cannot sacrifice, with that in mind what do the white king and black king represent?

The white king is humanity on No man's Land, now the black king you may think represents the plants, this isn't exactly the case, not entirely.

The black king is the idea, concept, of freedom. For Knives it was a need to try something because to do nothing was intolerable that unfortunately became extremism. For Elendira and Legato it was freedom through death (Elendira stating she'll make it all go away for Knives and the implication she would stay in the bomb's epicenter when it detonated), for Midvalley it was freedom from Knives, for Hoppered it was freedom from his grief, Livio it was the want to catch up to Razlo and free him of his "burden" of protecting him, Razlo it was the want to have Livio be free of any pain, for Wolfwood it was wanting the orphanage to be free from Chapel/EOM.

Whether it was freedom for their selfs or someone/something else there is still the idea of it present, so with that mini explanation out of the way let's finally get to what I said we would, now this:

Is the setup for sicilian defense, dragon variation. Black's kingside pawn has been moved to g6 and next turn will move the kingside bishop to g7 then do castle kingside. This is considered one of the most sharpest openings you can do, a risky, aggressive, highly tactical play. Opening with dragon variation means spending the rest of the game attacking and counterattacking, one of the best things to do is keep the black bishop on g7 and the black knight on f6 until you can capture with the knight and reveal the bishop's attack up the long diagonal. In this strategy the fianchettoed bishop on g7 is not only the strongest but also the most strategically and tactically important piece on the black side, to the point that every major line for white to counter the dragon aims to weaken the bishop.

Now none of white's major lines against dragon variation really rely heavily on the rooks or the knights. One of two of the common tactics are kingside pawnstorm/pawn avalanche, a tatic which has several pawns move toward the opponent's defenses, a deadly attack white can use against fianchettoed structures.

Back to trimax, something like that is what happens with the earth federation, they're the pawnstorm that "blockades" the fianchettoed structure that allows the other pieces to counterattack, while the "blockade" gets taken off the board it does allow for a pawnless endgame to begin on both sides, which is how the knights end up playing a vital role.

There's a term in chess called a piece exchange, in which both players capture each other's pieces in a series of related moves. This is what happens in the Wolfwood v. Livio/Razlo fight, a bishop for knight exchange, they take the other off the board though with L/R coming back as the other white knight.

The Elendira v. Livio/Razlo fight was also a knight exchange. Now the bishop can decimate the board if left unchecked so the rest plays out as, the white queen(Vash) captures the "dragon" black bishop(Legato), white queen is also nearly captured(the breakdown that follows the "capture" of the bishop), the remaining white knight(Meryl) and the rooks(Milly, ship 3) come to aid the queen (remember! Knights become important pieces when a pawnless endgame occurs.), then what follows is a "exchange queens" which means that both the white queen(Vash) and the black queen(Knives) have been captured/taken off the board and since either king is in check but one side doesn't have any legal moves left in ends in a draw, both the white king and the black king stay on the board, humanity and the idea of "freedom", the hope of connection between humans and plants stays on the board.

Moving on to my tristamp theory, the other way to counter the dragon variation is attempt to force an exchange of bishops by putting a bishop on h6 defended by the queen.

Two bishops trying to capture each other defended by the queen…

( a dragon that's willing to immolate and go in for the kill for you.)

Reasons for this theory is I find it interesting (and kinda funny) that Orange made Wolfwood and Legato's beef with each other more personal in stampede when compared to the manga, where it was sorta petty-ish. That Orange made Legato a part of the "rot"(the eom) that Wolfwood wants to get rid of for the orphanage. There's two ways this theory could go one is they have a "bishop exchange" early on and injure each other so badly that they get temporarily get taken off the board (maybe that's how Legato ends up in the contraption) or the bishop exchange happens in/near endgame (which would include the "flanked by the queen" part of the tactic), another thing worth noting is that with a piece exchange the moves that enable both pieces to be captured do not need to be one right after the other, it can be a bit delayed, but there must be a connection between the captures, and while I'm sure Meryl and Milly will definitely keep their places as knight and rook, Elendira and Livio's are more wobbly, while I personally want them to keep their places as knights in stampede, it's a little uncertain for now. All in all this has been fun to write and a fun theory to chew on for me!

Also Orange has taken a manga panel and ran with it before and there is a panel of the twins playing chess.

(…Dragon means fire, fire as hope vs. fire as wrath. The death of hope is wrath.)

#this post has been brought to you by a nerd who had a mini chess obsession as a wee little one finally putting the knowledge to use #trigun #trigun maximum #trigun stampede

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silvysartfulness · 1 year

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Obviously sxx for the ship ask game though I suspect you got another asks about them already bc, well, *gestures vaguely* they are the ship (as they deserve to be). Maybe specifically the songxue side of it..?👀

Do I ship it?

Yeah, I guess you could say so.

What made you ship it?

I mean, I watched the Yi City arc and there it was? The XueXiao side of it had me ugly-snot-crying like a baby and I drew my first piece of fanart a few days later. And then, like, another week later I was like "Actually, you know what, adding Song Lan back into this mess makes it even better" and yeah.

That was 300k and lots of art ago. 🥲

What I like about the songxue angle of the ship specifically is the hurt, the mutual hate and blame for their shared loss, and how all those complicated feelings translate to a deeply unwanted understanding. In a world that forgot and moved on without the Bright Moon and Gentle Breeze long ago, who else will understand the tragedy, the unbearable the grief of his death? Song Lan and Xue Yang are bound together from their very first meeting - as enemies who ruined each others' lives, as master and slave, as broken companions in a deserted ghost city for endless long lonely years - and that bond is cause for both bitterness and an odd unspoken comfort. Whatever else the other is... he's there.

What are your favorite things about the ship?

The yummy emotions of all that trauma, and how their different personalities will both contrast and reflect each other! At their worst, they can hurt each other like no other by stabbing right at the very most vulnerable spots. At their best, they can bring unexpected qualities out in each other; Song Lan's steadiness offering Xue Yang a sense of stability and security he'd never ever admit to wanting but yearns for all the same, Xiao Xingchen tempering Song Lan's black and white and rather judgmental nature with mercy. Xue Yang's irreverence and humour bringing out something more relaxed and, dare I say it, fun in Song Lan that he wasn't even aware he'd been missing, and allowing Xiao Xingchen the selfishness of simply being human, loved for simply being human. And Xiao Xingchen offering the other two a bright light, his love and his stubborn belief that maybe the world could be something better - even if they have to build that world themselves, no matter the blood, sweat and tears it will take.

Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

I have realized the SXX fandom is divided into groups with some very different takes on the characters (mentally I refer to them as the twitter crowd and the tumblr crowd) and I personally just don't vibe a whole lot with the former..?

In some cliques, there's a great fondness for mean dom Xiao Xingchen, or just Xiao Xingchen as a diva/sadist in general, and I just... really don't vibe with that take on his character. I'm glad others are having fun with the stuff they write and draw! It's just very much not for me. So I presume those fans would feel similarly about my interpretations of the characters. Don't know how much of an unpopular opinion that is, but there's certainly a difference of opinion, so I'm happy for those people to do their stuff over there, and I'll just sit over here and smoosh the blorbos together my preferred way, and we can all be happy out of each others' way. ♥

If you take a step back and look at the MDZS/Untamed fandom in general, I guess the unpopular opinion would be the Problematic shipping of these characters in the first place. The problematic, messy elements of it of course being exactly what makes it good. 😊

Thank you so much for the ask! ♥

#asksilvy #shipping ask meme

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shadeslayer · 7 months

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remembering is an act of defining ourselves by Lior Hadar, for Mixed Up! #1 (2013)

1: I find myself on the subway Or on the bus The early morning commute To the Brooklyn high school Where I work I find myself taking my hands from outside My jacket pocket Setting them on my lap Palms down And comparing Comparing. My skin color With that of the person next to me So that I can feel brown enough. When the color of my skin is a similar shade of brown To that of the person next to me Whom I read as a person of color I am so delighted On a crowded Brooklyn bus At seven in the morning, in the rain I feel *Delighted* Can you imagine? But more often than not I am the whitest looking brown fag Sitting on a Brooklyn bus Listening to Lauryn Hill And Nina Simone Or Jo Amar Singing in Hebrew and Moroccan-Arabic The swirl and tumble Of slurred Mizrahi quarter tones Music of my childhood Moves me to tears And I am using other people as my measuring sticks Knowing fully well that I have No fucking clue What it feels like To be shitted on for being brown.

I find myself in a New York City Cab. The driver is from Rabat. Maybe 50 years old, he helps Me figure out that the Arabic for Larache, where Savta Vida And Saba Nissim grew up, Is El Araich.

He drops me off and asks: "Why do you live in this neighborhood?" "The people are so deeply kind," I respond And he smiles. Wisdom shines, "If you were straight and white It would be a different story" He says.

Specificity is important. So allow me to be specific, For just a moment: I am Jewish-Moroccan-Tunisian; spoken-to- In-Spanish-by-one-set-of-grandparents-sung-to- In-Arabic-by-another- Born-in-Israel- And-Israel-is Not really Israel.

I think

I am often unplaceable A lightish brown creature With faggy flower tattoos And metal piercings Awkwardly angled Into ear cartilage Struggling to heal

Specificity is important because The existence of Arab Jews Is a living/historical threat To the building blocks of modern Zionist Narrative Wherein Arab-equals-enemy So let me break it to you, Jewish anti-zionist Establishment: Arab/Mizrahi Jews need to be central And centered In all Jewish anti-zionist Collaboration. Plain and simple. Take a step back. As all Jews must step back In collaboration with Palestinians.

Specificity is important Because I am not black And because my queerness Tends to divert attention From my 'middle-eastern look' So obvious to some; Tends to divert from ever being perceived As a 'suspicious looking' Latino. Which means, So very simply That I am WAY LESS likely to be Harassed/fucked with/ Shot dead By racist NYPD

After all, They are not told to Stop and frisk

And kill 'Suspicious' folks of color. They are told to stop and frisk And kill dead 'Suspicious' black and Latino men

I want to remember. (Prayer)

I want to remember where I stand, To be acutely aware of my place In this world/on the streets of Brooklyn, In the classroom. I want to remember when and how I am more or less. Vulnerable to State/hate Hate/state Violence. In all its interwoven forms.

I want to remember When to demand allyship. And when to listen, take direction And guidance, as an ally. I want to celebrate the specificity of my Difference, And indulge the rituals and memories. That serve as reminders of where I come from; And what sustains me; That keep me aware of How I move/ Take up space In relation to my surroundings The context in which My mixed-up Mixed-race Mizrahi Person of color beauty and Struggle Exists.

Live and die and Shine on.

#kashoplili #lior hadar

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saionofvalflame · 2 years

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❀ light | dark - dark mage mastery

“As followers of Bragi, it is your mission to spread his light wherever you may go.”

...

Ever since he arrived at the little enclave, Saias has studied and meditated on what it means to live by Bragi's teachings. From his youth he was taught that doing good meant putting others before oneself, fulfilling their needs before one’s own. What Bragi had preached was light, a light meant to be spread to illuminate the darkest corners of the earth. And Fjalar the Crusader, first wielder of Valflame, brought justice in the form of fiery light to those who would perpetuate evil deeds.

Good, in Saias’s mind, has almost always been equated to light, and evil to darkness.

But the young priest-in-training is far too smart to fool himself into thinking that such is the only way to see the world. A tactician must look at every angle, not just those that paint situations in black and white, and it is often the grey areas that can make the difference between ruination and salvation. Inexperienced and sheltered though he may be, Saias has never been able to ignore the fact that war is horrendous and awful and oftentimes necessary to pave the way for what is good. Sometimes it is those who work in the shadows that enable peace to be achieved or restored. Light, dark, good, evil... these dichotomies seem to be written into his bones. He has been blessed with the light of Fjalar but must be hidden away in the dark; in his hands he holds the power to perform acts of both good and evil, and he has seen and heard how light can be twisted into blinding and harming and how dark can be softened to comfort and shelter.

Is light always good? Is dark always evil?

He settles on his reasoning for learning about dark magic being a desire to understand that other force that lies within his body: that of the dark god Loptous. His very blood holds a conflict, or should hold a conflict, yet somehow his being hasn’t been rent to shreds even though it contains two opposing powers. Father is another example of this, and Saias has to wonder why. Why do those who carry both Fjalar’s and Loptous’ Holy Bloods still exist despite the fact that said Bloods should clash? Loptous was unequivocally evil... so why? Why?

And is there any good that can be done with a legacy so foul?

The teen spends days and weeks poring over tomes and journals and papers in his quest to understand. Dark magic isn’t forbidden in Fódlan, nor is it so in many other countries and continents. For many, dark magic is simply another way of life, and he learns of kingdoms like Nohr and Plegia, places where this is the case. He researches an ancestor of his, one Saint Maera, who despite the Loptous blood he carried worked his hardest to fight for the people and sacrificed himself to protect them. He finds that because of Maera’s actions and beliefs, Bragi himself was spared from being offered up to Loptous and went on to memorialize the saint and his followers through the Bragi Tower. The revelation shocks him to his core: if a bearer of Loptyrian blood can save the man who is revered by many in Jugdral as a god, what is stopping him from doing the same? But dark magic requires sacrifice, or at least, he believed it required unpleasant requisites, and with the most vile and horrible rituals and spells that is indeed the case. However, he also learns about hexes, jinxes, and curses that are benign and not intended to cause severe or lasting damage. In addition, he finds that regarding Nosferatu, which siphons health from an enemy and restores it to the wielder, nobody can seem to decide on whether the spell qualifies as a dark or light magic spell. Elibe, Magvel, Nohr, and Ylisse all consider it a dark spell, whereas Jugdral, Tellius, and Fódlan classify it as a light spell, with the last country going so far as to name it a Faith spell instead of a Reason one. You would think, he muses, that sapping your enemy’s strength requires knowledge of how the mortal body works in order to take it for yourself, and yet here they say it is belief that empowers this magic. But what are you supposed to believe in, in order to take life from someone else?

War is a horrible and brutal thing... and yet it can be used to pave the way for good change. Perhaps taking from someone else to survive another day can be seen as acceptable in certain cases. Saias knows that war forces people to commit acts they aren’t proud of to uphold the ideals they treasure. To do the dirty work so that others don’t have to stain their own conscience... is that what it means to be a dark mage? And if pursuing such a path means that one gets to return to one’s family alive and well at the end of it all? The Blue Lion can’t bear to lose any of his family members or friends here, and it’s most likely safe to say that they feel the same way about him. (He’s not really sure where Julius stands, but if he thinks about it, maybe the other redhead’s cold admittance of needing his aid was a subtle plea for his big brother to stay by his side.) It seems so selfish, to want them to come home to him when it means that others might have to die for that to happen; then again, isn’t that what everyone whose family members have gone off to war wants?

If I don’t try to survive for my family, I will die and they will grieve me. That’s what happened to Chrom: he won’t speak about it, but I recognize his sense of loss, the same kind I’ve felt since Mother’s death. I can’t bear to inflict my demise upon my family, not when I’ve seen how badly it can hurt. To use darkness is to do whatever it takes, to make the sacrifice so that you and everyone else can live later on down the line.

He learns of many skills and abilities that those from his home would label dark and evil, their names meant to strike fear into the enemy’s heart. He becomes adept at manipulating his magic with ease when in melee combat, a technique called Heartseeker, and practices tainting his opponent so as to inflict further injury, named Poison Strike for its similarity to the use of toxin. It feels strange to take life in such an underhanded manner, and at times his disgust at himself floods his mind like a tidal wave. He has to constantly remind himself that he has taken on this burden to protect the ones he loves—and besides, he accepted the possibility of staining his hands when he signed up for sword training, didn’t he? He can’t help but think back to that infernal Lone Moon and the Mark of Control, a manifestation of his need to stay on top of every situation. The corresponding lock he received at the end of the month sits on top of his desk, a reminder of everything he underwent during that calamitous mission. He studies it alongside his dark magic curriculum.

In the end, he takes the test and passes, a certified Dark Mage. He is allowed to put his new skills to use on the battlefield. People look at him with respect that he thinks is tinged a bit with fear.

Is it worth it?

He looks at his family, all healthy and safe and (relatively) happy, and feels no shame in answering yes.

Class mastered: Dark Mage!

#✿ class mastery - drabble.#✿ mastery - dark mage.#✿ drabbles #//yes i know it's almost three months after the actual mastery acquisition shhhhhhhh

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latte-fairytaekwoon · 3 years

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єxτrατєrrєsτriαℓ (ραrк sєσทgнωα) rατє∂

ραiriทg: αℓiєท! ραrк sєσทgнωα (ατєєʑ)× нυмαท! rєα∂єr (ƒємαℓє)

gєทrє: αทgsτ, ƒℓυƒƒ, sмυτ, ∂ysτσρiαท/ sci-ƒi/ ƒαทταsy αυ

sυммαry: ωнєท τнєy cαмє αท∂ iทvα∂є∂ τнєir ρℓαทєτ, нυмαทiτy ∂єscєท∂є∂ iทτσ cнασs αท∂ iทsαทiτy, нυทτiทg τнєм ∂σωท αท∂ vσωiทg τσ rєταкє τнєir нσмє. нσωєvєr, y/ท ∂σєsท'τ вєℓiєvє τнєy αrє ∂αทgєrσυs, ทστ αƒτєr sєєiทg σทє υρ cℓσsє αท∂ ρєrsσทαℓ.

ωσr∂ cσυทτ: 5к+

ωαrทiทgs: ∂ysτσρiαท sσciєτy, viσℓєทcє, αℓℓυsiσทs τσ ∂єατн, мαss ∂єsτrυcτiσท, єxτrατєrrєsτriαℓ вєiทgs, sℓigнτ нyρทστisм, кiทєτic ρσωєrs, sυρєrทατυrαℓ scєทєs, sєxυαℓ scєทєs iทcℓυ∂iทg вriєƒ вrєαsτ ρℓαy, ƒiทgєriทg, αท∂ υทρrστєcτє∂ sσƒτ, vαทiℓℓα iทτєrcσυrsє (αℓωαys υsє ρrστєcτiσท єvєท iƒ yσυ'rє ƒυcкiทg αท є.τ).

iทsρirατiσท: є.τ вy кατy ρєrry

ταgℓisτ: @multidreams-and-desires @little-precious-baby @yunhofingers @yunhoiseyecandy @galaxteez @brie02 @a-soft-hornytiny @deja-vux @rvse-miingi @daniblogs164 @couchpotatoaniki

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The world forever remembered the day when the sun suddenly went dark when it wasn't even close to being evening yet. The darkness that shrouded the city made them anxious, which then turned to fear when shining beams of light suddenly passed through the sky and fell onto various parts of the earth. At first they thought they were shooting stars or even asteroids that were there to destroy the planet. But alas, masses of rock from space don't have a perfectly oval shape and neither do they have blinking lights covering most of the base. And they certainly don't have strange beings coming out of them. When humanity saw the otherworldly creatures, they immediately went into panic, running for their lives, not wanting to find out or not if they were intelligent, friendly or were cold blooded killers. They simply shut themselves away, causing chaos amongst their land and hurting each other more than anything else.

Y/N definitely remembered that day but for different reasons. At the time, she was in the outskirts of the city, perched on top of a tree as she usually did to escape the bustling city life she was used to. Half daydreaming and half asleep, her leg swung idly as the warmth of the sun casted down on her face. She was jolted fully awake when something like thunder resonated from the heavens, her eyes immediately finding her surroundings to be pitch black. She squinted her eyes, trying to adjust her sight. A colossal spaceship landed near where she was, causing the earth to shake and she let out a piercing scream when she tumbled down from the tree, her knee getting scraped in the fall.

She let out a pained groan as she tried to get back up, but her legs gave out from how badly she was hurting. Looking up, her eyes went wide when a door opened from the ship, cold smoke blasting out and some of it reaching where she was, making her cough softly. She held her breath when several figures started pouring out of the ship, all of them scattering towards different directions. They all donned the same white uniform, their faces covered by a gaiter styled face covering in the same color. When one of them started nearing where she was, her feet scrambled to get up and hide. Only managing to take two steps before she tripped once more, the extraterrestrial turned his head in the direction of the sound and proceeded to go investigate.

Realizing that she had been caught, Y/N gripped onto the trunk of the tree, nails scraping so harshly that she felt blood trickling down. Finally able to stand upright, she turned once more to run but was stopped when two hands slammed against the tree, trapping her in place. The poor girl trembled in fear as two cold eyes looked straight at her. Scanning her body, the being's eyes took in her damaged knee, blood pouring out as some of the skin and tissue was badly torn off. Getting down on one knee, the being took off one its gloves that covered its hand before reaching out to press against her wound. Y/N flinched when they made contact with her scrape and nearly kicked them away but when a purple light emanated from their hand she stood still to see what would happen. When the otherworldly creature pulled its hand away, she was in shock when she saw that her knee was completely healed, not a scratch as if nothing had happened, as if she didn't suffer a nasty fall.

"How...how did you..?" She whipped her head towards the person or non-person in front of her, had gotten up and was slowly creeping their body closer to hers.

The being murmured out some words in a language she did not recognize, and she knew it wasn't just caused by the covering around their face. She gasped sharply when they suddenly pressed her back onto the tree, hands firmly keeping her in place. Once establishing that she would not run away anytime soon, the extraterrestrial lifted one hand up and pulled its covering off. Y/N was speechless as she gazed up into the most beautiful and perfect face she had ever seen. The being's face seemed to be perfectly sculpted to perfection by gods themselves. Blade straight nose, chiseled jawline and sharp angled eyes perfectly complimented each other and distinguished them as someone not from her world.

Before she could even comprehend what they were doing, she felt their hands cup her cheeks as they pressed their pink and soft lips against her own. When she tried to pull away, the creature only clung her tighter to them, their kiss becoming more forceful, tongue dipping inside her mouth which had her moaning. It seemed the extraterrestrial noticed the effect they were having on her since she could feel them smirking against her lips, and indeed they were still smirking when they pulled away and looked back at her. They curiously studied her face, as if they were trying to figure out something.

"Y/N? Is it?"

She was startled when she heard them say something she understood and even more so that they knew her name.

"You actually....speak my language?" She asked them.

The extraterrestrial chuckled softly.

"I do now."

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8 months had passed ever since the aliens first invaded the world, and things only went from bad to worse. The government fell in the hands of civilians who decided to take control after they failed in not only giving them answers but in failing to drive the intruders away. Without a proper leader to govern them, the people just ran rampant through the streets, criminal activity and violence escalating each day that passed. The only real form of leadership or organization that still was existed was the Resistance force, a group of individuals who had gathered together to fight off all the aliens, which always resulted in unnecessary attacks and bloodshed. And unfortunately for Y/N, her own father was one of the ones leading that force.

She shook her head everytime she watched him and all the other people march off in search of extraterrestrials, hoping to demolish them once and for all. Every time they went out, very few returned, but that wasn't the part that worried her.

What worried her was imagining if her friend was one of the few extraterrestrials that had been taken down, because as she'd learn, they were definitely capable of being killed. She let out a sigh and closed the blinds of the kitchen window to continue her task of washing dishes. It seemed that was her life from now on, attending to the house while her dad was away fighting off beings who were actually harmless as she soon learned. But of course, she could never say anything about it, one because no one would believe her given how brainwashed and unreceptive they were and two, which was the most important one, she had promised her otherworldly friend not to spill anything about the mission they were currently carrying out and she intended to keep that promise.

"Aliens! They're here!"

Hearing the frantic commotion outside that was followed by a loud blaring of sirens and shotguns being fired, Y/N ducked and stayed away from any windows or any glass. She slowly crawled her way out the door and went outside, as stupid as it was but whenever there was an attack such as these ones, she always went out to ensure no child was wandering the streets and accidentally got caught in the action. She didn't care that she was risking her own life in doing so.

She carefully ran through alleys, taking cover behind walls or dropping to the ground when she heard shots being fired. It had become a lot easier for her now than it was in the beginning. Peeking her head out, she was relieved to see that most of the civilians had already cleared themselves out. But her relieve was short lived when she saw a white uniformed figure fall in the middle of the street, their hand clutching their left side which was stained blue, clear indication they were seriously wounded. Even with their face covered, she recognized their eyes right away.

"Seonghwa." She whispered softly, panic rising in her when she heard more shots being fired in his direction.

Looking at the other side, her face paled when she saw that it was none other than her own dad who was pursuing him, gun in his hand as he reloaded bullets in them. She looked back towards Seonghwa, who was trying to desperately heal himself faster, but was running out of time. With her dad getting closer and aiming his gun right at him, Y/N didn't even think and bolted out of her hiding place, heading straight towards her father.

"Dad don't!" She exclaimed as she tipped over his gun, causing him to shoot instead towards the opposite direction. Both of them hit the pavement with the strength she used to make sure he didn't hurt her friend.

"Y/N! Get off me!" Her father grunted as he shoved her off his body. Grabbing a hold of his gun once more, he made way to aim once more at his enemy but unfortunately he was too late. When he looked back, he was surrounded by two other extraterrestrials, one of them holding a small device that he threw onto the ground which helped them teleport out of there instantly, leaving behind nothing but a faint cloud of smoke.

Livid at having his prey taken away from his hands, he turned his attention back to his daughter who was barely standing up. When she lifted her head up, she was instantly struck back to the floor as the brute force of her father's fist against her face knocked her down.

"You stupid bitch! You let them get away!"

Each kick laid against her stomach was felt not only by her but by the extraterrestrial being that had connected his mind with hers. From miles away, inside one of the space crafts, he cried out in pain and clutched his abdomen as he felt each and every one of the violent acts laid on her body. With raging and glowing eyes, he pulled off all the wires and needles connected to his body and stormed out of the room, ignoring the protests coming out of the medical team that was tending to his wounds.

"Seonghwa! Stop! You're not healed yet!" One of his comrades tried to stop him.

"I don't care Hongjoong! Y/N is in trouble and I need to save her!" He tried to pry off the other male's fingers off him.

"You can't go! It's too risky. You'll get caught." He tried to reason with Seonghwa.

"If I don't go she could die! She saved me and now I must go save her!"

Having left with no other choice, Hongjoong used his supernatural strength to pin his friend to the wall, keeping him locked in there with no way to escape.

"Yes you must, but now is not the time! You're hurt, if you go now you'll only get yourself killed and then what will happen to her?"

Seonghwa's lip quivered in rage and hurt. He was unable to speak let alone move. He looked down at the floor and wept softly, his mind filled with images of her bruised and bloodied body in agony and pain after the beating she just endured. He knew in such a state, he couldn't even contact her telepathically.

"There's only a few more days until we have to leave back to the home planet. Our mission will be completed and if you still want..... you can take her back with you."

Seonghwa whipped his head up at Hongjoong's words, but before he could get his hopes up, Hongjoong raised a hand.

"Only if she wants to. You can't force, hypnotize nor abduct her. Am I clear?"

Seonghwa immediately nodded.

"Yes Hongjoong."

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Y/N laid in her bed, body still sore even though 2 days had already passed since that awful day. Her sides would ache if she put too much strain on them, but at least she was finally able to walk again. What she really wanted to know was how Seonghwa was doing. Was he all right? Was he too injured? Did he make it? Or did he..?

She pulled her blanket over her face to keep herself from thinking such things. She only wished he'd talk to her like he usually did at night. It was funny considering the first time she heard his voice in her head she was beyond freaked out, but now she had grown accustomed to it, sometimes even scolding him for bugging her so much.

"Are you awake?"

She couldn't keep the smile of her face as she finally heard his voice after so long. But wanting to play it cool, she forced a huff out of her mouth.

"I am now no thanks to you weirdo." She responded, her voice sounding grumpy and making Seonghwa chuckle.

"You know I'm not that knowledgeable with your language yet, so I'm not sure what that word means, but I'm deducing it's not a compliment." He asserted.

"How can you still not know what some words mean? Didn't you suck the language out of me when you slipped your tongue inside my mouth months ago? Wasn't that enough?" She chastised him, yet her cheeks flushed pink as she recalled the first time they met and he greeted her with a kiss, which she ended up finding out was a method his kind employed to be able to understand and talk to beings that spoke differently from them.

"We only grasp the basics, our abilities only stretch so far." He calmly explained.

Y/N sat up and tugged at different ends of her blanket.

"Does that mean you've gone around on other planets kissing other people?" She questioned him, her voice tinted with a hint of jealousy at the thought of Seonghwa kissing someone else.

"I may have kissed other kinds, but I can assure you that you're the only one I've used tongue with." He smirked to himself as he read her thoughts.

"And that's supposed to make me feel better?" She felt bitter knowing he had indeed gone around kissing other people.

"Well no... but that little action helped create the mind link with you. Lip to lip contact with another creature helps us communicate with them, adding tongue is a way to communicate and connect telepathically with the individual. Hence why I have been talking to you and vice versa without having to utter a single word. That and I can see what's going on in that tiny head of yours." He finished with a suspicious snort that unsettled her.

"Does that mean... you've been reading my thoughts all these months?" She fidgeted nervously.

"Some, not all. Although I've accidentally stumbled upon some that are rather..... interesting if you ask me."

Y/N whined as she slumped her face into her pillow and let out a high pitched scream. She felt so embarrased knowing he probably knew some of the explicit thoughts she's had at times that involved him.

"Do me a favor and take one of your laser guns and just vaporize me out of this world." She begged him.

"I'm afraid protocol doesn't allow me to vaporize any individuals without proper cause. So you're stuck with knowing that I know that you want me to-"

"Ok stop! Please don't finish that sentence and pretend like what you saw in my head wasn't real." She sighed.

"As you wish."

Seonghwa stayed quiet for a while, biting his lower lip as he pondered about how to approach his next subject. He knew it was now or never.

"Hey Y/N?" He asked softly.

"Yeah?" She responded.

"Can you..... do you think you could meet me in the place we first met?"

Y/N looked out her window and saw that it was past the curfew established by the Resistance, no doubt most of them standing guard at every street and corner, making sure everyone stayed indoors while keeping watch.

"I'm not sure I'll be able to get out without being caught."

"I thought just as much."

Before she knew it, Seonghwa appeared right in front of her bed, making her shriek as she pulled her blanket to cover body up. She was about to ask him what was going on, but he was faster as he took hold of her wrist before transporting them both in the outskirts of the city in the blink of an eye. Y/N cowered and shivered when she felt the night breeze blow, her arms wrapping around herself since she had gone to bed wearing nothing but black panties and a flimsy white tank top that left little to the imagination for anyone who saw her chest. And seeing the extraterrestrial looking intently at her, she knew he was taking in her state of near undress.

"Please tell me you don't have laser vision that let's you see under my clothes." She squinted at him.

"Some of my kind do posses that ability, but I'm not one of them....." Stepping closer to her, he tilted her chin up and grinned smugly.

"Unfortunately."

"Why you little perv-" She was cut off mid sentence when Seonghwa inexplicably wrapped his arms around her, holding her in a tight embrace.

"You're cold, let me warm you up."

She indeed started to feel heat being produced from his body which started to flow into her own. It felt so nice, not only having him act as a personal heater but to just have him hold her after having to go through endless shit day after day. Closing her eyes, she rested her head on his shoulder, slowly drifting off to sleep right then and there. One of Seonghwa's hands was busying itself by softly brushing her hair, being careful not to accidentally pull any out. He stayed like that for a few minutes before finally blurting out:

"The mission is finished. We'll be leaving at dawn tomorrow."

Y/N felt her heart sink when she heard him say that.

"So....bringing me here was so you could say goodbye?" She lifted her head off his shoulders and stared at the ground with a blank expression.

"Well it depends..."

Y/N raised an eyebrow when he paused.

"Depends on what?" She urged him to finish.

"If you wanna leave this place and come with me." He offered, his eyes growing rounder as he hoped she'd say yes.

Y/N looked at him in disbelief.

"Are you being serious right now or is this some kind of alien joke?"

Seonghwa nodded in earnest.

"Deadly serious. I want you to come to my home with me. I know.... I hope you'll like it. It's not that different from your planet, although you know the technology is more advanced and flying cars and what not..."

When he saw that she wasn't budging, Seonghwa gulped nervously.

"But the location I live in is a more... tropical one. The water is sparkling blue, the glittering sand is warm to the touch, and the weather is always cool and refreshing. Wouldn't you like to live in a place like that with me?" He spoke those last two words out softly but he knew she definitely heard them.

He could hear and see her thoughts, debating whether or not it would be wise to leave with him or not. She looked behind her towards the city she lived in, almost in complete ruin with possibly no hope of redemption.

"There's nothing left for me here, is there?" She asked to herself rather than to him.

When she looked back at him, there was still a hint of doubt in her mind. Clasping his hands on her head, Seonghwa's thumbs rubbed circles on her temples as his orbs started turning a light yellow color.

"Please come with me. Stay with me and live with me." He spoke out softly, his voice having a light melodic tune to it.

Y/N felt herself getting immensely drawn to him, her thoughts beginning to fill up with images of staying by his side. It was as if she was getting pulled to him against her will.

"Wait..... Are you using hypnosis on me?!" She exclaimed in anger, pushing him away when she realized what was going on.

"It was worth a try." He admitted in defeat, head hung low in shame.

"Since you failed miserably..... I'll spare you the humiliation and accept to go with you."

Seonghwa widened his eyes when he heard her.

"Wait, for real?"

Y/N responded by placing a kiss on his cheek.

"Don't make me regret my decision though or I'll steal your laser gun and vaporize you." She warned him.

Lacing his fingers with hers, Seonghwa nudged her to follow him.

"I promise you won't."

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Y/N shifted uncomfortably on the bed she was currently in, alternating between wrapping herself with the blanket and kicking it off a second later. She was still in the middle of her fight with the covers that she failed to notice the door opened and her current roommate walk into their small compartment. He crossed his arms over his chest and watched her struggle with an amusing smirk.

"Having fun there?" He broke her out of her trance.

"I can't sleep, I feel like I'm developing claustrophobia from mostly staying inside these 4 walls, and I'm still suffering from motion sickness." She grumbled, 1 week and she had still not adjusted to being inside an intergalactic spacecraft with no one but extraterrestrial beings to keep her company.

"Anything else you'd like to add?" Seonghwa raised an eyebrow.

Y/N pouted her lips and stared up at him with puppy dog eyes.

"I'm lonely and want company?"

Unable to resist, Seonghwa faked an exhausted sigh as he began taking off his jacket.

"I'm off my piloting duties anyway, might as well get some rest before my next shift."

Finally happy at having someone by her side, Y/N made some space on the bed for Seonghwa to fit in, although she wondered if it would be big enough for the both of them since it was a rather compacted area. When she looked back at Seonghwa, she nearly wheezed when she saw him sliding right next to her completely bare. Catching her staring, Seonghwa continued on as if it was the most normal thing in the universe.

"What? Don't you humans go to sleep the same way we do?"

Y/N covered her red cheeks and turned her face away from him.

"N-no....we wear clothes when sleeping." She explained, body heating up from embarrassment. Seonghwa replied with a slight gruff.

"Seems impractical."

Wrapping one arm around her body, Seonghwa pulled Y/N down on the bed and held her close to him, his breath fanning against the nape of her neck.

"Try to rest." He suggested.

Y/N wondered how on earth was she supposed to rest knowing the extraterrestrial being was pressing his bare chest against her back? She tried hard not to move in fear of accidentally brushing along his cock.

"Wait, do aliens have dicks? I didn't really get a good look between his legs. I just saw abs and looked away."

Her thoughts began spiraling deeper and deeper into not so pure territory. She began wondering about Seonghwa's anatomy. Do his kind even have reproductive organs? Do they even have sex? What if he could produce tentacles out of his body that would suction onto parts of her body like some of the kinky hentai she watched a long time ago? That thought aroused her more than it should. How would it feel to have Seonghwa's tentacles latch onto her nipples and suckle them as another one slithered inside her core and probe around until it made a mess of her? She clenched her thighs inadvertently as her mind started to produce more and more dangerous scenes.

She was startled when she heard the alien behind her laugh softly.

"I hate to interrupt your sexual fantasy foolish human girl, but my kind do not possess the ability to produce the slimy limbs that you are imagining."

She had completely forgotten that their minds were still linked and if he wanted to, he could still read her mind. She buried her face deeper in the pillow, wanting to cry out in shame.

"I do apologize for that inconvenience, I'm afraid the closest you can get is my hands around you."

Y/N half gasped half moaned when she felt one of Seonghwa's large hands snake inside her sweater and cup her breast. His thumb tweaked at her nipple, giving it experimental tugs and pinches until finally settling for simply rubbing them since it seemed to produce more effects on her body. He listened intently to the way her breath hitched with every brush of his thumb and squeeze of her soft skin, feeling her body start to get warmer just for him.

"Isn't this what you wanted? I remember you often fantasized about having my hands all over you." He recalled all those times where he refused to go to sleep because he was too busy prying into her erotic thoughts that included him.

"Y-yes..." She breathed out.

"Did you only want them here?"

Y/N whined and shook her head.

"No.... want them- want them..." She felt embarrased to say it out loud even if she did have Seonghwa groping her chest, so she hoped he'd read her mind and give her what she wanted. Obviously he got the hint since he moved his hand and slipped it inside her shorts. Pushing her panties aside, Y/N groaned when he dipped two fingers past her slick folds. She was so unbelievably wet that even with the slow movements he was making, they could still faintly hear the squealching sounds that were being produced.

"Right here? This where you want them?" Adding a third finger inside, he drove them deeper inside her body as their pace intensified, the slopping noises becoming louder.

Y/N bit down on the sleeve of her sweater to muffle the moans that were spilling out, afraid of anyone hearing what was going on.

"Don't worry about anyone else, just focus on the way my fingers are invading your most intimate places. Tell me does it feel good? Do you like it?" He asked as his lips kissed across the side of her neck.

"Feels so good- I love it." She sighed blissfully as his fingers continued to swirl around her hole, tips curling so they could graze at her g-spot.

"Want to feel something even better?"

Y/N hummed in affirmation and allowed Seonghwa to move her onto her back. He surprised her when all he needed to do was tap twice against her clothes and they immediately vanished from her body, leaving her completely naked under him.

"How long have you been waiting to do that?" She eyed him suspiciously when his lips curled upwards in a cheeky grin.

"Far too long."

Cupping her cheeks, Seonghwa kissed her, almost like the first time when he came to her home, but this time the kiss was more passionate and full of raw emotions. He took his time and didn't slip his tongue inside her mouth, instead he wanted to savor how soft and plump her lips felt against his own, pulling away every few minutes only to catch his breath before diving back in to mold his mouth over hers. They were so lost in their heated kissing and tangled bodies, that they forgot they were both in their most intimate state until Seonghwa's member brushed along her slippery folds.

"Oh god-." Y/N stammered as her hips grinded up to feel more of Seonghwa, who had a proud smirk on his face.

"Are you going to be ok with an extraterrestrial being breeding you with his cock?"

Y/N grimaced slightly at his choice of words.

"Is that what you guys call it?"

"Well what do you guys call it?" He questioned.

"We like to call it fucking." She giggled.

Seonghwa furrowed his eyebrows as his hands lifted her legs up to wrap them around his waist.

"I don't like it, sounds too impersonal and distant."

The cry coming out of Y/N's throat cracked and only half sounded when Seonghwa stuffed her full of his cock, his size stretching her out in a delicious sting.

"I prefer to get as close as possible."

Taking hold of her hands, he placed them on top of his shoulders before proceeding to rock his hips against hers. Y/N clung onto him as if her life depended on it. She closed her eyes and let her body succumb to his. Every touch from him was magnetizing, and she completely melted when his lips sought hers once more, a cosmic sensation pouring into her. Her nails dug onto the flesh of his back whilst her legs tangled themselves tighter around his waist, wanting to keep him near her as she started to feel a knot unraveling at the pit of her stomach, similar to the ones she'd feel all those nights she daydreamed about having him close to her. Only this time the feeling was more electrifying and intense, almost as if it was magic. Her eyes shut even tighter as the knot came loose and her lips began spilling out chants of Seonghwa's name as her juices flowed out of her body and coated his member that was still sliding deep inside her, not stopping so it could further heightened the sensation she was going through.

Feeling her release herself all over him, it was only a few moments later that Seonghwa himself vibrated against her body and filled her core with his own cum. His body started to faintly glow due to the rush he just felt at being so intimately connected with another person, the pulse in his heart beating so rapidly he thought it would burst any minute. Stroking her hair in a gentle manner, he pressed his forehead against hers, panting softly as he layed his body on top of hers, careful not to put too much of his weight on her.

"Never in my life did I ever believe that on one of our scouting missions would I meet someone like you."

Pulling back so he could look at her beautiful face, Seonghwa smiled with adoration and fondness at his loving partner

"Yet here I am, going back home with the brightest star in the universe."

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paper-n-ashes · 3 years

Text

sparks and embers - chapter 1

Characters: Poe Dameron x Original Female Character, Kylo Ren x Original Female Character

Story Tags: Explicit (18+), Canon Compliant/Divergent (Set after TLJ), First Person POV, Love Triangle, Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Porn with Plot, Hurt/Comfort, Kylo Ren hates Poe Dameron

Summary: Alexys is a doctor living a life of exclusivity on Raxus, hoping to survive through a peaceful existence, concealing herself from those she believes would use her, or kill her. When fate intervenes and instigates a perilous journey she'd been desperately trying to avoid, Alex finds herself caught in the middle of two sides in both war and love.

Preface: Let me say, I am immensely nervous about this. After months of back and forth inside my mind, I’ve decided to go for it and begin the long process of moving my long running series to Tumblr, along with changing the name (something I’ve wanted to do for a long time). I hit a big emotional road block after over a year of writing and posting, so I’m hoping this move will eventually get me back into the swing. But for now, I’m looking forward to revisiting the beginning of this space love triangle.

If you’ve already read the saga, absolutely NO pressure to read again. Each chapter will be edited a little, but no major plot points will change. To any newcomers who find themselves interested, the story is already posted on AO3 if you are desperate to continue. Otherwise if you prefer reading on Tumblr, or simply like the forced breaks between chapters, I’ll be posting a new chapter every couple of days. I know it’s not written as reader insert, but I just couldn’t make the story work out in any other fashion. I poured a lot of love and heart into Alexys so I hope you’ll give her a chance.

Chapter 1 - Crash Landing

Words: 3.4k

Chapter Tags/Warnings: descriptions of severe injury including blood and bone, medical procedures

Read on AO3

I felt it before I heard it.

A booming crash of metal and glass, sending a shattering vibration through the walls and furniture around me. After the years of mostly silence I’d become accustomed to, the noise that came pummelling into my ears almost made me shriek in surprise. It was short lived, coming and going in a flicker so quick I had to wonder if it was real at all.

Lights began to flash, blinking rapidly in uneven time. The mixture of harsh beeps indicated something was faulting my electricity circuits, plunging me into the darkness of night over and over.

I could only question myself again at the plausibility of this being a dream, but the slow, increasing creak emanating from beyond the walls of this building brought me to a certainty.

Something had crashed outside.

Fear radiated through my limbs, leaving me stuck where I was standing for a few moments, before an uncontrollable urge of selflessness and honestly, curiosity, forced me to move and exit the safety of my clinic.

There wasn’t really a way to prepare for what I saw not metres away from my front entrance. A ship, an X-wing of some variety, was wrecked into itself, varying metals twisted and curled over each other, flames beginning to billow out from the creases. I could feel the heat of them rise as I cautiously stepped forward, taking in the scene with wide eyes. Only seconds had passed when I saw it – the movement of something – no, a person, demanding my attention. The pilot of this battered machine had been thrown just beyond the edge of its hull, broken transparisteel smattering the ground around them.

Hm, the Resistance should probably investigate their flight safety measures.

That thought quickly flittered away when the pilot moved again, this time with a painful moan echoing into the atmosphere. The switch inside quickly flipped, and an all too familiar feeling of conviction flooded through.

This is your cue Alexys.

I raced quickly to the pilot and knelt on the ground before them, fingers carefully removing the black and red helmet with both urgency and restraint as to not cause any more possible damage to their head or neck. The moan I'd heard just moments before let me know this person had some kind of airway, but it was pertinent I assess further. With the helmet gone I noticed the short, lightly waved black hair of a man, his eyes pulled closed, a few bruises and smudges of grey soot smattered over his face. His chest was moving, laboured breathing with the occasional heave on inhale.

At least he’s breathing.

“It’s alright,” I insisted. “I’m here to help you.”

There wasn’t any discernible response from the pilot other than a groan that withered away slowly, and that in itself was worrying. Kneeling over his body, I placed two fingers under the line of his jaw, halfway down, trying to feel for a pulse. I could sense the thump of blood under my fingertips, but it was too slow, too faint, too uneven.

Not great, but it was enough for now.

I began to scan over his body, knowing it was time to assess what was giving him reason to cry out in pain. There were severe burns on his left arm which had caused some of his flight suit to stick to the skin, with more scalds reaching down to his torso and abdomen. His right arm was almost definitely broken with the limb morphed into an irregular angle almost halfway along.

Without being able to look at them directly to ascertain whether I was going to be able to move him, I pressed on his hips gently, silently praying he hadn’t broken his pelvis. He muffled softly, but anyone who had actually shattered the bone would have screamed. As my eyes continued to scan down, it became obvious all too suddenly the shattered edge of his right femur bone poking out of the orange flight suit.

Kriff, this is not ideal.

I wanted to kick myself for not noticing it before, but there was no time, not with the very real possibility of him bleeding out in front of my eyes. My feet moved under me, racing back to the clinic room, knowing where the bandage and splint lay waiting, along with the anaesthetic injections I had stocked in the pharmacy cupboard.

He was certainly going to need them.

Within minutes I was back to the ground with the pilot, clicking together the injector handle and vial, piercing the needle straight into his thigh above the fracture site. I wouldn’t be able to wait for it to dull most of the pain, so internally, I braced myself for the scream I was about to elicit from this poor human's chest. The second I started to wrap the bandage around the splint, a piercing wail echoed through the air, almost causing me to hesitate. Still, my hands continued to haphazardly wrap the white material around his leg, pushing through the guilt it ignited.

Suddenly, the noise stopped.

My eyes darted to his face as his head slumped over on its side. “Hey!” I shouted into his face as I scrambled back to the top end of his limp body. “Hey can you hear me? Open your eyes if you can hear me!”

There was no response.

I pinched at the muscle on his shoulder, harder and harder to elicit any kind of reaction. Nothing. My hand pulled into a closed fist and grinded against his sternum. “Come on, open those eyes if you can feel this!”

Still nothing.

Again I took check of his breathing, chest still rising and falling, yet shallow and with little power. His heartbeat had begun to race, but through my fingertips I could feel the strain in the muscle. Something was seriously wrong, even more so than his other injuries. Something internally. If I didn’t get him into the clinic, he was going to die.

In a snap decision, I chose to forgo an attempt to run back and locate the hover-stretcher. It would take too much time to set up and power on, time this man didn’t have. I would have to move him myself.

How the hell am I going to do this?

With my arms hooked and locked under his armpits I began to drag the pilots hefty body backwards towards the clinic behind me, thankfully only a few meters away, barely making it past the entryway when a roar of flames overtook the X-wing. I looked up to see the blaze almost completely engulfing the ship, a ferocious heat searing into my eyes and face. With even more urgency I heaved the body into the large clinic room, getting up and slamming the door just in time. Just before a house rattling explosion sent shockwaves into the atmosphere.

Lucky didn’t seem to be an appropriate feeling considering the situation I was in, but at least no one had died. Yet. With my last bit of brute strength, I hoisted the pilots limp body onto the closest hospital bed, noticing then the trail of red liquid I’d brought along with me.

Oh no no no.

With him still lifeless, I tugged at his body and limbs to lie flat on the bed, scurrying to my medical trolley and hauling it back to where the pilot laid, ragged breaths still thankfully escaping into the air. Snatching the heavy shears from the top drawer, I began to tear through the thick fabric of the flight suit, unclipping and removing as much of the life support vest and belt as I could. I had to be careful not to rip away the fabric that melted into the burns scattered all over his body, the number of them increasing as I peeled away the suit, starting from his legs, up to his abdomen and chest over to his upper arms. His torso was in full view now, a smattering of dark hair over his pectorals, underneath which showed the bruises of his crash’s impact.

Oh he’s definitely got some broken ribs.

As my gaze scanned over his skin, I could finally isolate where all that blood had escaped from. A deep penetrating wound just below the last rib on his left flank. As I registered his quick shallow breaths and the uneven rise in his chest, it became obvious.

Collapsed lung.

Whatever had pierced through his chest had poked an extremely damaging hole in his lung, the pleural space now filling with air, leaving no room for his lung to expand. My following movements were swift and calculated, almost automatic. A pointed scalpel was soon in my hand, poised to cut. But I couldn’t help but hesitate. It had been so long since I’d had to do this. And yet, somehow, concern for this stranger’s life was quick to weave it’s way through, dissolving my fear into pure resolve.

I made my incision in between the 4th and 5th ribs, using a clamp to push into the underlying tissue and past the pleural cavity, a gloved hand then entering to check I’d made it through. With an instinctive confidence, I guided the chest tube between the layers of tissue, undoing the ratchet of the clamp to an immediate rush of air. The pilot’s chest heaved in relief, along with my own.

One crisis averted.

But there was more to do. Connecting a drain to the tube, I haphazardly sutured it in place, before flying to the pharmacy cupboard. My stock of bacta was limited, returning with an already prepared vial into the pressurised injector, reminding myself I would need to use it sparingly if this stranger was going to make it through the full extend of his injuries. I had cursed at myself only a few times in the years past at being so far removed from a higher level medical centre that would be overflowing with bacta and medical droids that could help in exactly this kind of situation, but the thought had never burned me so badly. There was no way to know if I could keep this man alive with the resources that yesterday I had been more than comfortable with. I would just have to try.

I injected some of the bacta solution throughout the surrounding area of the wound and covered it with heavy dressing, knowing the bleeding would quickly be curbed. Unfortunately, the wound itself would take a few days to fully close, only ever being able to afford lower quality bacta. Before moving on to the burns, I placed some basic monitoring, lines extending from electrical dots over his chest, wrist and neck to the data monitor above the bed. As the numbers lit up on the holo screen, I felt myself breathe a small sigh of relief, having prepared for a much worse result. His heart rate was better, oxygen levels returning to normal, blood pressure not optimal by any means but high enough to sustain his life, for now.

After securing an oxygen filter over his battered face, I continued to inspect and clean as many of the small and more sizeable burns dotting his body. Even with the many I had uncovered, the one extending from his shoulder past his elbow was the one of most concern. Third degree and extremely unhappy looking. If I wasn’t quick to treat this, it could leak even more fluid from his already compromised circulatory system. I was thankful he still remained unconscious when I began to slowly shed the charred material melted into the skin layer. I couldn’t help but shudder as I remembered the initial scream this man had let out, knowing I would be hearing it now if not for his comatose state.

Covering the immense scald in as much salve as I could spare, I began to wrap it in protective antibacterial bandage, soon moving on to protect his many blisters and deeper burns with dressings. Glancing at the monitor screen, he was still stable, and swallowed hard. Now it was time to attempt possibly the most daunting part of this patient’s treatment.

His femur was still sticking through the tissue of his thigh, slightly dried dark red blood creating lightning strike looking lines extending from the wound.

I need to get some blood into him before moving this.

I quickly got to work on an IV cannula, his poor blood pressure making it significantly more difficult than it should have been. Two bags of O- blood were all I had, and a wave of dread coursed through me with the thought of that not being enough if this all went wrong. My fist squeezed the fast flow pump of the IV line, pushing fresh blood urgently into his system, making his blood pressure rise only slightly. With the last of the red liquid trickling through the line I wheeled over the portable X-Ray. It was so old the mechanical arm screeched at me as I positioned it into place over the pilot’s leg. The bone had to be at least somewhat in place before getting the bacta to work its magic or this guy might walk with two uneven legs for the rest of his life.

If he actually made it through the rest of his injuries, that is.

Shaking my arms out at my side, I sucked in a few deep breaths to build my stamina. Unfortunately, this stranger was stuck with a small framed female to attempt reducing his severe fracture. With one last inhale, I drew the courage to pull as hard as I could horizontally at the knee joint, digging my fingers into a vice grip around the limb and yanking it towards me. To my relief, the fractured edge of the femur to slipped back into the hole it was peeking out from, settling back under the skin.

Thank all the stars in the galaxy he’s not awake for this.

I quickly pressed the image button on the X-ray to assess the progress I’d made. The faint white lines of bone edges were stark enough on the grey background of the image. The fracture wasn’t reduced even nearly enough. I prepared myself again, with another deep breath I pulled hard. This time my efforts were forced into angling the lower portion of bone to try and lock it back into place. The grinding of bone edges could be felt through my fingers, pushing myself to pull even harder, creating more space between the fracture in the hope of giving a fighting chance of lining up the splintered edges. My muscles were whining, begging for this to be over, tears of exhaustion soon stinging at the edges of my eyes.

With one final twisting motion there was a sudden click.

Finally.

My relief was short lived.

It was slow at first, before racing faster. A stream of dark red blood pooling at the wound the broken bone had made.

Oh maker no.

Within moments the pace of the blood quickened. I shot my hands to the open flesh site, pressing down hard in an attempt to disturb the flow. The liquid quickly covered my gloved hands, already sure I’d sliced into the femoral artery. The pressure of my hands into the area made the blood spurt out onto my arms, my clothes, my face, everywhere. The monitor was screaming, blood pressure falling quickly. Wiping some of the hot coppery fluid away from my left eye, I slid my fingers back into the gash, moving desperately to stop the overflow before the man lying in front of me bled out, knowing it would all be my fault.

You have to do it Alexys. He will die if you don’t.

The voice nagged at me, pleading to do what it wanted.

He’s with the Resistance! If he survives, if he contacts them, they’ll find me. And they’ll know.

It is time to decide. His life. Or yours.

Seconds ticked by fleetingly, numbers flashing on the monitor trickling down, the speed of blood flow from the pilot’s leg stubbornly keeping it’s intensity.

Everything I’d done to get here, to isolate myself so no one could find me. It would all amount to nothing. My easy, albeit lonely life, would be gone. All because of this stranger.

But I couldn’t let him die. Not like this.

In one flash, I removed my hands from inside the wound, ripping off my gloves and placing two palms at either side of the leg. With closed eyes, I willed the energy out of the depths of its slumber. From the darkened corner of my mind I pulled it back into existence, opening the gate I’d locked it inside for so long, letting it finally burst through and fill up my brain. From there it down through my neck, through my chest and down my arms, right to the end of my fingertips. Its warming glow was almost comforting, friendly. I would have basked in it for a while if not for the life that hung in the balance before me.

Through the pads of my fingerprints I pushed the stream outwards, connecting past the skin of this innocent human being, and felt the overwhelming heat of pain and dimming of energy.

Hurry, he’s dying.

I began to map out the tissue of his leg, frustratingly slowly, starting at the smallest of capillaries, weaving and winding through the flesh, connecting them through the maze of fat and muscle. I could feel the sweat forming on my forehead, my breathing forced and harsh. The vessels grew bigger as I pushed the energy through, skipping past broken points of other smaller injuries. I could fix them later.

Finally, I felt a molten warmth radiating close to where the maze had guided me. Racing to it, I sensed something pushing me back, the pressure of escaping fluid holding my efforts. I’d found the cut, but now I had to somehow knit it back together.

You’re taking too long.

The alarms of the monitor started to echo with a hollow ring inside my ear, fading until I could hear almost nothing. The world around me was blurry, only the image of vessel tissue and all-consuming redness visible in my minds eye. The energy I was expending began to burn me - I wouldn’t be able to keep this up for much longer. I reached out with it, what felt like many hands grasping desperately at the severed edge of the vessel, frantic yet delicate, pulling whatever tissue I could hold back into place.

Several fringes connected, the pressure pushing forcefully against me, making it harder to hold. I couldn’t help but begin to shake at the strain, the sound of my own heart pounding over the slowing heartbeat of the pilot. My grip was already beginning to fade before I started to sew the pieces of artery back together, an ache growing behind my eyes as I pierced an invisible needle through the tissue, over and over, still clawing at the unsewn edges as I made my way around the tube.

I was so close, the tension of the fluid still being driven out of the broken seal almost overcoming me. The unseen thread had almost made its way full circle. I was almost there.

My entire body rattled with exhaustion and pain. One final thread wove itself around the artery, its abrupt closure alleviating the strain on invisible fingers that had been clutching it all together.

You did it.

The energy dissipated quickly in a rolling wave, letting it retreat back into my mind, scampering to the secluded area of my brain, hidden once more. I felt light suddenly, dizzy, the world coming back into focus, screaming alarms growing louder. It was too much, all at once.

A sharp pang of fatigue enveloped every part of my senses and I faltered back, knees giving way, slumping to the floor.

Then, there was only darkness.

Next Chapter

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sushireads · 4 years

Text

yoongi fic recs

this is a list of yoongi fics i’ve read and loved very much! enjoy. <3

ps. all fics with 🍙 are the ones i loved a little bit more.

“Where’s my kiss?” by @mintseesaw

fluff | drabble | 1.6K words

A Wish Out of Water by @jimlingss

🍙, fluff, humor, fantasy | two shots

A genie could solve all your problems. Though you wouldn’t even know exactly what to ask for - money, a warmer house, a better job, a better life? But Min Yoongi is no ordinary genie. He’s here to make your life a living hell. Too bad it was hell to begin with.

GENIE au

All I Want for Christmas by @hayjeon

🍙 | one shot | 13K words

CEO, CHRISTMAS, SECRETARY, SINGLE DAD au

an out of bounds umbrella by @yoonsgiggle

fluff | one shot | 10.2K words

you’re apologetic about almost blinding your university’s star point guard with the broken tip of your umbrella until you share a class with him and find out he’s a three star recruit but a four star dick or min yoongi doesn’t find your high school musical puns amusing.

BASKETBALL PLAYER, COLLEGE, ENEMIES TO LOVERS au

aquiver by @floralseokjin

🍙, fluff, angst, smut | series

Yoongi can’t remember the last time he was able to successfully bring himself to the point of orgasm, then Namjoon gives him a business card advertising ‘Healing Hands’, and that’s where he meets you; pretty and innocent looking, who gets paid to provide hand jobs for a living…

IDOL au

bad boys bring it to you by @yuengi

smut | one shot | 7.1K words

TATTOO ARTIST au

Black & White by @akinnie75

🍙, fluff, angst | one shot | 24.7K words

You finally confessed to Yoongi after he asked if you like him. His response is to give you a contract to sign. However, you soon realize that Yoongi manufactured your emotions and manipulated you to like him all for the sake of his senior project.

SLOW BURN au

Blackthorn Manor by @kpopfanfictrash

one shot | 7.5K words

After becoming the assistant of professional recluse Min Yoongi, you begin to notice strange things. Noises which shouldn’t take place, shadows which shouldn’t move like they do. You’re almost convinced that you’re crazy - until something happens, something unbelievable to make you realize you’re not.

GOTH au

Blow by @inkofyoongi

smut, fluff | one shot | 5.5K words

Yoongi loves you, even if he’s never said it… but gestures sometimes speak louder than words.

BOYFRIEND au

budapest by @junghelioseok

smut | one shot | 11.1K words

over many years and across several dozen cities, you fell in love.

SECRET AGENT au

Clair De Lune by @yoonia

smut | one shot | 23K words

You were ready to leave a part of your life to move on to the next, and he is willing to give you a chance to end it glamorously. But at what cost? And will he be a part of the life you are leaving behind or will he be there for the next part of it?

—part of @bangtansmutcentral‘s In The Mood Project

ESCORT, MUSICIAN au

Cut Me Open by @hayjeon

angst, smut, fluff | two shots

—a spin-off from Cardio Palpitations

MARRIED COUPLE, SURGEON au

dancing with the devil by @minnpd

smut | one shot | 6.8K words

Easy Rebound by @ditzymax

smut, angst | one shot | 6.5K words

Yoongi is one of the star players on the college basketball team. You are the head of the cheerleading squad. The pair of you would make the most beautiful (if most cliché) couple on campus, except neither of you have ever wanted anything more than the frequent, casual fuck. Yet somehow Yoongi finds his emotions straying towards dangerous territory.

BASKETBALL PLAYER, CHEERLEADER, COLLEGE au

ego: hoe chronicles by @suga-kookiemonster

smut | one shot | 7.2K words

he was messing with you again. he was messing with you, trying to get a reaction out of you simply for his own amusement. but you refused to give it to him—refused to give him the satisfaction of playing right into his hands.

—an alternate universe of ego

COLLEGE, FRAT BOY, FUCK BOY au

eight by @cupofteaguk

🍙, fluff | one shot | 5K words

or, Eight times Min Yoongi tells you he loves you

IDOL au

First-Date BAIT! by @jimlingss

fluff | two shots

First dates are embarrassing. First dates are awkward. I’ve been through countless ones, sitting across from people who bored the living daylights out of me. It was less exciting than watching paint dry. Some dates were so utterly rude - I think you and I both know what it’s like to be on the receiving end on that. But now we both don’t have to waste our time anymore!

With First Date Bait they went out for me! Afterwards, they informed me if it was recommended to go out on a second date. It’s amazing with a 99.99% accuracy rate! That’s how I ended up meeting my husband!

First Date Bait.

Why waste your time with awkward first dates?

—part of the Service Series

Hades by @littlemisskookie

horror, smut, angst, fantasy | one shot | 9.4K words

You meet a rather dreamy- albeit annoying, new kid who sweeps you off your feet. Too bad it’s in the middle of a series of murders around town.

GREEK GOD au

heavy sugar by @kinktae

smut | one shot | 8K words

The Roaring Twenties were a time of great economic wealth and social change. But beneath the jazz music and colorful speakeasies were mafia led organized crimes and bloodstained cash. You knew this well, but try as you might, you just couldn’t ignore the dark and enigmatic gangster whose eyes lingered on you from across the room.

—part of the rewind series

1920s, GANGSTER, FLAPPER, MAFIA au

i’m not your daddy by @scriptaed

🍙, fluff | one shot | 2.5K words

learning that his daughter no longer wishes to wed him but rather his now-arch-enemy jungkook marks the most soul-crushing day your husband has ever had to endure. no one, and he means no one, is more deserving of his angel than daddy min himself, and he’s willing to do anything to earn his daughter’s heart back.

DAD, PARENT au

Ink Nemesis by @scriptaed

🍙, angst, fluff | series

As an aspiring writer drowning under the public’s radar, a click of the pen is all you need to accept your supervisor’s offer to co-write an article for the SS - Secrets Spilled, a regular section of your company’s weekly tabloid; but fabricated stories and invasive details aren’t all that you write when you discover Min Yoongi’s dirty little secret.

FAKE DATING, IDOL, PAPARAZZI au

La Douleur Exquise by @cinnaminsvga

ON-GOING | fluff, angst, smut, fantasy | series

in which you accidentally summon an incubus in the middle of your shitty apartment and he won’t leave until you agree to have sex with him. until then, min yoongi, incubus extraordinaire, is now your sexually promiscuous and grumpy roommate. aka, the incubus au no one fucking asked for.

INCUBUS au

Melody companion by @prisczero

fluff | one shot | 3.6K words

“A soulmate story where Yoongi can hear everything that you listen to, but only if it is music.’’

IDOL, SOULMATE au

Miss Dial by @versigny

ON-GOING | 🍙, smut | series

[11:31] You: okay so i’m texting you now like I promised instead of drunktexting yoongi and telling him how badly i want his cock tonight. Arent you proud?

[11:32] unknown number: this is yoongi, hi

FRAT au

Mixtape by @jungblue

🍙, smut, fluff, humor | one shot | 15.6K words

Two mystery students from your college run the podcast dubbed ‘mixtape.’ It’s become a sort of phenomenon around campus, listened to by almost everyone. In their most recent episode they discussed various study methods… One of them being oh so tempting.

COLLEGE, PODCAST PERSONALITY au

Next Door by @personasintro

smut, fluff | one shot | 10.3K words

Your neighbor doesn’t respect your complaints about him being loud, but you don’t let it slide so easily.

ENEMIES TO LOVERS, NEIGHBOURS au

petals by @yoonia

🍙, fluff | series

IDOL, PARENT au

see you soon by @cupofteaguk

fluff, angst | one shot | 7K words

In which you live in a world where one stroke of a pen against your skin is a signage of forever, and Min Yoongi just has really good timing

SOULMATE au

She’s Testosterone by @jimlingss

🍙, crack, smut | series

Drop dead gorgeous, cute and sassy - you adore your best friend. But is there more beneath the surface? Who exactly is Min Yoonji?

YOONJI au

so i heard you like bad boys by @scriptaed

fluff | one shot | 4.7K words

while others see min yoongi as the resident heartthrob of the school - quiet, resilient, and mysterious - you can’t see him as anything other than your dorky best friend since childhood; but what you don’t know is his long desire to be anything but that, even if it means becoming the bad boy in town… or at least try to.

COLLEGE, FRIENDS TO LOVERS au

stay high by @personasintro

smut, angst | one shot | 16.5K words

You’ve to stay high to keep your ex out off your mind when he comes back into your life.

EXES au

Studio cuddle by @mintseesaw

fluff | drabble | 1.8K words

Tired from work, you went straight to Genius Lab in the hopes of being able to cuddle with Yoongi. You did not hesitate to press the passcode of his studio, knowing he might get pissed off for interrupting him from his work.

IDOL, PRODUCER au

Sweeter than Sweet by @gimmesumsuga

fluff, smut, angst | series

“You never would have expected someone like Park Jimin to notice you. As handsome and beguiling as he is deadly, you’re enthralled from the very moment you meet. Addicted to his kiss and his bite, Jimin opens up your eyes to a whole new world of love, lust and seduction.”

VAMPIRE au

the blue coat and cerruti 1881 (a flash fire) by @yuhdongsaeng

angst, fluff, smut | two shots

that’s the thing about flash fires. they’re intense outbursts of flames that reach their maximum heat quickly and don’t last a long time. hell, they don’t even get to fade before they cease to exist. however, flash fires may be intense and short, but the floor beneath them is ruined forever.

IDOL au

The Truth Between Us by @jimlingss & @gukyi

🍙🍙🍙, fluff, angst, fantasy | series

a book deal should be the most exciting time of your life, but there seems to be a constant and omnipresent damper on your mood in the form of a certain min yoongi, who you would just cut out from your life, if he weren’t your editor. but then, the world shifts beneath your feet, and you begin to wonder if maybe you’ve always been looking at life from the wrong angle.

ENEMIES TO LOVERS and loads more aus— just stop what you’re doing and read this masterpiece!

want a taste by @suga-kookiemonster

smut, humor | one shot | 18.3K words

pretzel pro. most skillful tongue in the food court world. allegedly. that’s what yoongi keeps telling you, anyway. of course, you’re reasonably skeptical of his claims—but if there’s one thing that motivates the notoriously-lethargic man, it’s proving skeptics wrong.

—part of the you never shop alone collaboration

FRIENDS TO LOVERS, SHOPPING MALL au

what you did last summer by @winetae

smut | one shot | 33.8K words

Yoongi was fine with a lot of things—you maxing out his credit cards to buy ridiculously expensive items of clothing that you never wore more than once, you taking out his newest ride for a spin without permission, you spending an extra thirty minutes on your hair and makeup when he was running late for a dinner function.

What he was not okay with, however, was you sharing your pussy with barely-out-of-college boys who were incapable of going five seconds without creaming their pants.

No, that was where he drew the line.

↳ alternatively titled; How to Get Dick - an autobiography written by (you)

TROPHY WIFE au

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#bts fic recs #namjoon fic recs #jin fic recs #yoongi fic recs #hoseok fic recs #jimin fic recs #taehyung fic recs #jungkook fic recs #fic recs #bts fic recs masterlist #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #bts x reader #yoongi smut #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst #yoongi x reader #bts masterlist

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httpsohnpouts · 3 years

Text

𝐩𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧. | 𝐤𝐢𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐧.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: royal!younghoon x lady’s maid!fem reader

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄: angst but not really + fluff // enemies to friends

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: younghoon’s a bit sassy/socially awkward but nth too extreme

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 1.5k

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: happy (belated) birthday my beaby @chaoticdeobi, ily endlessly, i hope you like it! i hope you had a great day!

the hall was grand, to say the least. the walls painted in the finest mix of white tie and matchstick; but to any common eye, the paint was just simply cream. portraits of the family’s ancestors hung perfectly on said walls, golden plaques engraved with their names and the years from birth to death, situated just below them.

you could say the hall was the largest part of the building but yet, younghoon was always found hiding away in the undercroft. his time well spent at the very end, paintbrush in hand as he delicately placed the brush onto the canvas, an elegant piece forming in its wake; finding comfort and solace in the peace that he got, a break from his reality, hence why his father had gifted him the space and the utensils for his twelfth birthday.

a slight sigh left younghoon’s slightly ajar lips of concentration, brows knitting together as he couldn’t quite get the right angle of his paintbrush, “it won’t work if you’re holding it so awkwardly.” it took the man by surprise, spilling his water pot over his fresh set of white trousers, nobody ever wandered into his space during the day as the staff working in the castle feared him and his intimidating gaze nor did they ever sneak up on him upon knowing of his tendency to become scared easily.

fury burning in his eyes as his fresh whites absorbed more and more of the tainted water as he sat there, whipping his head in the direction of the voice who stood behind him, arms folded and they leaned against the porcelain walls, legs crossed in a way that just screamed arrogance.

“excuse me, who the hell do you think you are sneaking up on a royal, did you not see the ‘do not disturb’ sign?” with a sigh, younghoon scurried to wipe off his trousers - not that it would do anything considering fabric isn’t waterproof and the damage was already done - huffing again, “oh, forget it. clean this up, i take it you’re a maid? now if you excuse me.”

it was dinner time now, and everybody knew that the king wanted the whole family to sit around the dining table together, occasionally discuss important business him and his wife had to deal with, or something they wanted younghoon to participate in against his will; but in his eyes, it was all apart of the family bonding.

“where’s mother?” younghoon asked as he adjusted his newly fixed hair, the constant puffing of breath out of his lips having messed it up. watching the kitchen staff busily prepare the table for their meal.

“one of the cleaning workers knocked over your mother’s glass of wine and it went all over her new gown. she’ll be down in a few- oh look, she’s coming here now.”

placing her palm upon her husband’s shoulder, younghoon’s mother took her seat at the dinner table, a familiar face following behind and standing to the side of the room with the other staff, you. you were his mother’s lady maid. if it were anybody else, he would’ve apologised for the tone he gave you earlier when he mistook you for part of the cleaning staff.. but what right did you of all people have spying on him in his private space?

“son? are you listening?” his father called to him, realisation hitting younghoon that he hadn’t stopped gaping at you since you walked in the room. adjusting his collar before prompting his father to continue speaking.

“as i was saying, your mother and i have to leave the country for a few days. you are in charge of taking care of your sister whilst we’re gone as well as the staff. we trust you with this son, don’t disappoint us,”

“oh and y/n, you will be staying here for the time being, your services aren’t necessary on this trip. you’ll be in charge of our daughter when younghoon is busy, understood?” whilst younghoon’s father was a kind and generous man, he definitely wasn’t the most respected man in the castle for no reason. his striking and powerful demeanour spread for miles, no one dared to disobey the king, not knowing exactly what he’s capable of but not wanting to find out either.

younghoon’s parents were gone for most of his childhood, along through his teenage years and then into his early adulthood. so it’s safe to say he grew up isolated and alone for most of his life. his only source of socialisation was when his sister was born seven years ago, when he was seventeen. they’re practically attached at the hip, wherever younghoon went, his sister followed and vice versa. his sister was mature for her age, much like younghoon himself, she had to learn how to take care of herself from an early age; that included knowing how to dress appropriately, know how to do her own hair and makeup for any special occasions the family hosted or attended to as well as the basics on how to behave as a royal should. the only difference between the siblings was that now, younghoon had responsibilities he had to take care of- preparing to be king once his father passes or if he steps down from the throne, maintaining a clean record as well as the constant fear of practically falling apart at the seams.

it wasn’t and still isn’t the ideal life for one to live, seeking his father’s approval and permission for pretty much everything he does. the burden weighing upon his shoulders just itching to make his knees buckle and collapse, making it hard for him to do pretty much anything “normal” like making friends or doing typical things you’d do in your twenties; it wasn’t that he liked people keeping their distance from him, nor the fact that everybody in the castle had their own misconceptions on him and his behaviour, all of which turn their topic of conversations onto him whenever he walks into the room.

it was a couple of days later when younghoon found himself sitting on the top of a hill just outside of the castle gates, observing the vast and majestic view that clouded the sky. the blue replaced by a faint red hue whilst the clouds floated aimlessly. the only sounds heard consisted of younghoon’s breathing, the small flow of water beside him and the odd bird that flew by every now and then. he can’t remember the last time he felt pure peace. everything being far too fast to keep up, like a black hole or a tornado, something you’re quickly swept up into until you completely disappear and break.

“they’re going absolutely mad looking for you in the castle, sir.”

you.

without sparing you a glance, younghoon let out a sigh, his shoulders tensing slightly at the thought of going back to the place that causes far too much stress.

unpropping yourself from a nearby rock, settling a comfortable space from younghoon, staring out at the landscape that looked like it just came out of a painting.

“what’re you doing here?”

“i came to find you, duh. they’re going sick at the thought of you having fled the country or something.”

“no, seriously. what’re you doing here?”

“contrary to belief, sir, but i actually want to be your friend. not your foe, regardless of how hard you try to push me away. don’t you ever get lonely in that big place?”

younghoon snickered at that, “you think you know me huh?”

“not at all. that’s why i’m saying i want to, i know what it’s like to have my childhood swept from between my feet, floating between self-doubt and uncertainty of what i’m going to do with my life and how i’m even going to do it on my own. i know far too well what it’s like to be alone my whole life, my parents either too busy preoccupied with work or too tired to spend time with me when they get home at the end of the night.”

for the first time, it felt like someone wasn’t pitying him, or mistaking his standoff-ish personality for something for malice and ill-intended. for the first time, he felt heard and understood.

“how about a restart?”

“huh?”

younghoon was turned towards you now, his hand extended to you, “hi. i’m younghoon. not prince younghoon, not sir, just younghoon.”

“nice to meet you, just younghoon, im y/n. i hope we can be great friends.”

105 notes · View notes

cthulhuliet · 3 years

Text

lips like licorice, tongue like candy

4.5k words | AO3 Link | warnings: explicit content, mild dubious consent (it is pretty brief)

"Ok- look, Ryuzaki, can you stop that?"

L frowns, "Stop?"

"Yeah, your finger on your lips while you talk, why are you doing that? It is distracting."

A flash of emotion passed through L's eyes, the black orbs widening ever so slightly. A wicked smirk spread across L's face that gave Light the temptation to slap him, but he was more so focused on the jolt of arousal that crept up his spine. L pushed his index finger against his lips and leaned forward with interest, "Light-kun finds me distracting?"

The one where L has an oral fixation, and it causes a lot of problems for Light.

Note: I am glad I have returned with more smut after being dormant for a little bit, please enjoy and let me know if you liked shorter one-shots like this.

Light drummed his pen on the side of the leather couch, eyes focusing and unfocusing on the tired looking man in front of him, completely consumed by the contents of his laptop. Light himself was also supposed to be working, but he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from L.

L: the brilliant detective, the letter and enigma, the critical minded genius. L certainly was all those things, though, right now all Light can think of him as is L: the annoying distraction.

It is difficult for anyone to not focus on L, in all honesty. His eccentric and wild appearance coupled with his odd demeanor made it difficult to look away. It was not even the first time L had distracted Light. He remembers every day of the entrance exams, feeling the prickling on the back of his neck like he was being watched by the weird, older student. Thankful, his interference didn’t distract him from getting perfect scores in all his subjects. And of course Light, as Kira, has many other reasons to focus on L.

“Interesting…” L muttered to himself and pushed the end of his pen against his bottom lip. Light looked away.

L seemed to be taking up a lot of his thoughts as of recently. It only makes sense-- they were in a constant, neverending staring contest, and Light was not going to be the one to blink first. Light did not need to further interrogate the perspiration under his arms whenever he is around him, or the heat blooming in his chest whenever he does that arrogant half-smirk. All in due time, Light will be rid of anyone who stands in his way. And if that means getting in his head, performing a few social niceties, and acting nice when spending time together, it is all worth it in the end. All warfare is based on deception, after all.

Light wasn’t worried. The victorious put themselves beyond the possibility of defeat. Right now, Light was simply annoyed.

The Task Force and his father had gone home for the evening. Light told him he wanted to stay up late studying so he didn’t fall behind on exams, and L offered to have him study at HQ for the evening. He asked this with a cake spoon hanging out of his mouth, spit dribbling down his chin, his doll eyes blank and wide.

Light bristled, “How could I say no?”

So here he was, pretending to study for an Ethics exam while his greatest enemy was sitting 5 feet away from him.

“L… Ryuzaki… What is your name?” Light wondered to himself idly. He twirled his pen between his fingers as he watched L swipe the frosting off of his plate and suck the icing off of his fingertips. Instinctively, Light licked his lips, they suddenly felt very dry. He fished around in his school bag and found the pack of apple cinnamon chapstick he carries with him.

“What are you doing?” L asked, pointer finger still hooked in his mouth.

Light read the label of the lip balm, avoiding L’s face, “Chapstick, lips felt dry.”

“It is the middle of Spring, I didn’t think people’s lips would get chapped this late in the year.”

Light idly threw the tube back in his bag, “Not chapped, dry. You keep it pretty cold in this hotel room, Ryuzaki.” L’s hand came to rest on his knee and Light was able to look at him again. He looks the same as he always does. “What, is my Kira percentage going to rise because I am abnormally using lip balm?”

L said nothing, but unabashedly stared at the shininess of Light’s lips. He brought his thumb and point finger up to his mouth, pressing it against them so the skin would move slightly with it. Light still had not quite gotten used to L’s staring, among other things.

“Can I try some?” L asked, his fingers still in his mouth.

“What?”

“Can I try some?” He repeated. Before Light could answer, L interjected with, “By refusing your Kira percentage will rise this time.”

Light was taken completely aback for a second, his hand spasming before he steeled himself, and relaxing his expression. There is no way L would be able to profile Light based upon something as trivial as sharing chapstick. Then again, there is no way to be sure of that… Is it possible he has some other goal in mind? But what on Earth is his angle here? Does refusing show a lack of empathy? Will offering lean into a transparent attempt of closeness because L thinks Kira would refuse something like that?

“Light, I am only joking.” L smirked, chuckling to himself slightly. “There is no need to be so serious.”

Doing his best to not leap over the couch and strangle the detective with his bare hands, Light busied himself looking through his bag, “I don’t think you understand that most people do not appreciate jokes about them being horrific mass murderers.”

Finger at the corner of his mouth, L expression relaxed, “Does Light-kun consider himself to be most people?”

Not entertaining that with a response, Light pulled out a fresh tube of chapstick and tossed it in L’s lap, “Here, go ahead and try it.”

L let the tube dangle from his pointer finger and thumb, reading the label before uncapping it and putting it on, “Thank you.” He responded simply. Light nodded, fighting the urge to stare at chapstick moving around his mouth and instead focused on the block of text in his notes, “Actually, while I have your attention, would you mind if I discussed something case-related with you.”

Light wasn’t sure if L was playing dumb or he actually could not feel Light’s idle gaze on him for the past 2 hours. Most likely the latter; the man seemed to be the type to ignore his surroundings when hyper focused on work. Still, Light moved his notebook out of his lap and onto the arm of the couch, leaning forward slightly. “Sure, what are you thinking?”

Moving out of his seat and back into his usual crouch onto the right side of the couch, he handed a manila folder to Light, who began idly looking over the contents. It was a record of criminals who had died in the past week or so, but by looking at the names, didn’t recognize any of the criminals. He wasn’t sure if these were simply not his doing or if the pile of bodies had just become that big.

“These are 5 criminals who have recently died of heart attacks in the past week. Their full criminal record is in front of you as well as various notes about how their crimes were reported in the media. Please, look these over and tell me your thoughts.”

Most of the notes were in English, the detective's native language, which gave him a bit of a headache, but Light was able to translate it pretty quickly. 3 of the victims had been convicted of sexual assault, one incident of grooming a minor, and a more horrific incident of stalking and killing a barista.

The world truly was disgusting.

But all of these must have been done by the second Kira. Light recognizes none of these names, and they were reported on channels and in tabloids he himself does not use. Even if they were, at least 3 of these crimes were minor enough for him to overlook.

He glanced up at L, eyes staring wide at Light, lips shiny.

It was going to be a difficult line to balance knowing why these kills obviously are not Kira, but also explaining how he came to that conclusion so quickly. But that doesn’t seem to be what L is looking for… What does he get out of this?

“Light?” L looked at him questioningly, brow furrowed and sucking on his lower lip with his teeth. The back of his neck prickled slightly.

“Sorry, got lost in my own head there.”

L tilted his head to the side, “Quite alright. Did you notice anything while looking those over?”

Light tapped the files with his pen, “I think so. It seems that all of these criminals were shown on the 12am news on channel 16, which according to our data, Kira has never killed those only shown on that program.” L nodded, but didn’t say anything. Light continued, “Also, it seems as though these 3 criminals were convicted of minor sexual assault crimes, which is different than Kira’s MO who mainly puts his focus on serious violent crime. I think that these deaths, at least for sure these 3, were done by the second Kira.”

“Yes… I suspected that much was obvious to you.” L muttered, frowning.

Light glared at L, “What?”

“We can separate the criminals that Kira killed from the ones that the second Kira did all day long, but that does not get us any closer to figuring out who they are.”

Oh. Now he knows what L wants. “Well, just by looking at these 5 cases and watching the video does not give me a lot of information, but it seems that the second Kira has a less ambitious motivation.” L leaned forward, thumb against lips. Light looked down at the criminals again, “Coupled with that, it seems like this Kira also has a specific MO, all of these criminals had been convicted of crimes specifically against women… Channel 16 during daytime airs music videos and dramas… It is possible that the second Kira is a woman.”

Light looked up and L’s previous scowl turned into a smirk, “Very good, Light,”

“W-what? Is this another one of your deductive reasoning tests?”

“No, actually,” L tongue flickered to the corner of his mouth before he spoke. Light could just barely make out his words with all the white noise, “I dislike profiling based upon stereotypes, so I wanted to verify my suspicion with you,” L switched out his thumb for his pointer finger, biting on the nail and letting it hang from his mouth.

Light began bouncing his leg. L was still talking, but Light was too engrossed in the way L’s lips were moving around his finger, and still slightly glossy from the chapstick, and oh God he’s pulling on his bottom lip now...

“- both verified that I feel much better about my theory.” L finished, even though Light stopped thinking about the Kira case at that moment long ago.

"Right," Light licked his lips and stared at the finger pressed to L’s pretty, pink lips. With the late hour and toll of simply being around L, Light had officially lost his patience, "Ok- look, Ryuzaki, can you stop that?"

L frowns, "Stop?"

"Yeah, your finger on your lips while you talk, why are you doing that?"

L raised an eyebrow, his hand dropping from his mouth, "I apologize if you were not able to understand, I can re-"

"No, I can understand you just fine, it is just distracting."

Light choked on the scathing “Not like that, pervert” and stuttered over his words, “I- Yeah, a bit. It’s hard to not, it’s something that is difficult to not pay attention to.”

L hummed, pushing his knee down onto the couch and resting his hands next to Light’s thigh, invading Light’s personal space completely, “Yagami-san and the other detectives never seemed to bring it up.”

“You are their boss, it would be impolite too.”

“Am I not your boss?”

“And here I thought we were friends-” Light smirked, “- Ryuzaki.”

This seemed to please L, as his cocky smicker was almost a smile, and his eyes alight with amusement, “We are friends?”

“Do you not want to be?”

“Is that what you want me to be to you-” L smirked, “- Light?” And his thumb was on his lips again.

Damn it, L…

Light swallowed, fiddling with the pen between his fingers, “You still never answered the question: why do you do that? Some kind of oral fixation?”

L simply shrugged, “We all have our quirks. I just happened to have more than others.”

Light felt physically pained in preventing his eye roll. Ignoring the detective’s wild appearance, the fact that he must sit with his knees to his chest, and only eat sweets, and constantly has to have something hanging out of his mouth-- it’s safe to say he adopted more than just a couple quirks.

Shrugging, Light chuckled airily, “Well, I suppose that is true for you. Not all of us have assumed weird habits like that.”

L raised an eyebrow, “Please do not try to tell me you are playing the innocent act again.”

“What?”

“Light, I do not know how you have not noticed, but you fidget and spin writing utensils obsessively.”

“I do not.”

“You are doing so as we speak.” Light stopped the pen from his usual thumb around, frowning. L eyes flashed and he bit down on his thumb, “Your tricks honestly are quite impressive.” He muttered, and Light had to make a conscious effort to not fiddle with the pen again.

L looked down at Light’s hands, now tapping against his leg. L moved his hand from where it was propped up his chin and lightly ghosted over Light’s wrist. “May I?” He asked, voice quiet and trepidatious, like how you would approach a skittish wild animal. Light nodded, doing his best to keep his head focused and wired. Why was he allowing this to happen? Why was he okay with being touched like this by L? Why did he so badly want more?

L grabbed Light’s left hand with both of his, fingertips ghosting over the palms and he rubbed against Light’s knuckles in a way that made him shiver. Thankfully L cared to not mention it. “Your hands are lovely, are you told that often?”

“Do people often compliment my hands? No.” Light scoffed, not for the first time wondering what L views as normal human reactions.

L said nothing about the sarcasm behind Light’s comment, “I am surprised, you have nice hands… Nice fingers... “ Light’s pulse sped up as L’s fingertips brushed over Light’s nails, “Long, strong, and slender. Am I right in assuming you played the piano?”

Light nodded, taking a moment to level his voice, “Yeah, my mother wanted me to, I took lessons for a while.”

L’s thumb rubbed against his palm in smooth, circular motions, Light completely entranced in the action. L did not spare any other part of Light a second glance, and Light was completely focused on L’s fingers on his hands and his lips slightly parted.

“You know, hands and lips are some of the most sensitive parts of the human body,”

Light blinked, “R-really?”

L nodded, “Yeah,” L brought Light’s wrist up to his mouth, and pressed his lips against it, “Though I assumed you already knew that.” Light hooked his ankles together and bit down on his lip, praying that L would not notice all the other physical reactions his mouth was causing. “That is why I like things near my mouth, and why oral fixations are so common,” His moved up Light’s hand, lightly kissing and sucking on any bit of skin that he could, L no doubt noticing Light’s shallow breaths and trembling fingers, “Just something against that sensitive bit of skin helps me focus. Sometimes it is a fork, sometimes it is my own hands…” He pressed Light’s fingertips against his mouth, his hands feeling the wetness of L’s mouth and tongue pressed so close to his lips, “And sometimes…”

"Don't." Light gasped out, pulling his fingers away from L's mouth. He meant to sound commanding, but even with the innocuous actions that L's lips had been doing made his head go foggier than it was a few moments ago.

L paused for a moment before he hummed, tilting his head. His eyes drank in Light's flushed face and he dragged his teeth across his bottom lip, "Saying "don't" with that expression will not make me want to stop." He inched closer, his breath hot against Light's neck, "In fact..." He nibbled on the lobe of Light's ear and sucked on it gently. Light swallowed hard to suppress a shameful whine, his nails now digging into his slacks, "It makes you look rather inviting..."

L's voice made him lurch bright red, the smooth baritone right against him was making the room feel unbelievably warm, despite the goosebumps running up and down his body, "Tell me I am wrong." He challenged, whispering the threat right against Light's neck. He gingerly took Light's hand again and pressed open mouth kisses against his wrist, trailing up to his fingers once again, "Tell me stop, Light-kun."

Light said nothing, and L nibbled the skin against Light's index and middle finger, before taking them further down to his first knuckle. His teeth grazed against the top of his skin and latched onto the indents in it, sucking softly. Light's throat went dry-- the action should not affect him as much as it does. And yet seeing L like this, erotic and teasing was making him very distracted.

"I- I don't know..."

"Hmph." L pulled Light's fingers from his mouth, and pressed them against his lips in the way he typically does with his own, "It's your body." L murmured, "Shouldn't you know what it wants?"

But that is the problem, Light knows exactly what his body wants. Every nerve is alight in his system, sparking and flaring with blistering heat, all yelling for L to please, touch me more. His logic was becoming fuzzy, having to live with the knowledge and settle into the deep end of the pool he dove into, knowing he was fraternizing with the enemy. What was making him feel this way? Were the lines between rival and obsession so blurred that he was now infatuated? When does the pain stop and the pleasure begin? Light couldn’t tell you, but L’s hands were caressing the inside of his thigh, and his tongue and teeth and lips were working at the right side of his neck, biting him just hard enough, and Light couldn’t take it anymore. He grabbed L harshly by his messy waves, the other man moaning at the action and he desperately pulled their lips together.

L groaned into the kiss, Light’s hand still gripping his hair harshly. He wasted no time climbing into Light lap, straddling him and moving his hips in tiny circles on top of him. Light broke the kiss, sighing, partially from the friction on his cock and partially in the mental pleasure he got knowing that L was hard too.

“Tell me what you want, Light.” L moaned in his ear, dropping the honorific. He pressed their lips together and immediately bit Light’s bottom lip, Light unable to suppress the whine this time, “Tell me you want me, Light, I need to hear you say it.”

Light never thought he would stoop so low as to begging, but his head was already fucked out and lust-filled, never experiencing this kind of attention before today. He has a taste of blood and he wants more. It is not as though he was going to say anything untruthful, he may just have to remove his filter for a little while. So be it he has to do some pleading and mewling, L was offering himself to Light, in whatever way he wanted.

“Ryuzaki… Please, touch me, give me more. I need your mouth on me.”

L smirked as he moved out of Light’s lap and began to undo his jeans, and although L couldn’t see it, Light smirked too.

Only a fool would call this type of power submission.

Light lifted his hips up and L pulled down his boxers and jeans, leaving only Light’s cock in front of L. L paused for a moment, and it didn’t even cross his mind to ask if L himself had even done anything like this before. Light opened his mouth to prompt him, but just as he was about to ask, L flattened his tongue on the underside of his dick, dragging it upwards, before encasing the head with his lips, sucking and swirling over the tip.

Mouth open in a silent moan, Light was gasping and writhing, overcome with tight heat of L’s mouth. Light has never really wanted anything like this before. It fans over him in hot waves; pressure and pleasure and want and fire and burning and okay-

“L… L- wait!” Light said suddenly, and L pulled off, quirking up an eyebrow.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” The question was a bit tongue-in-cheek, one look at Light and you could see him overcome and over-wrought with lust.

“Do you- can you slow down a bit, I…” He didn’t want to finish that sentence, but L nodded.

“I see, you want to keep going… Have you never done anything like this before?” Light shook his head, throwing it back on the couch. He closed his eyes, but abruptly opened them as he felt L’s hand back on his cock, stroking him slowly, “Have you ever even masturbated before?”

Light scoffed at the accusation, “Of course, what kind of question is that?”

L hummed, licking his lips, “It is just you are so incredibly sensitive, everywhere…” L ran a fingernail down Light’s tight as if to make a point, and to prove it, Light whined at the action.

“How are you so good at this?” Light muttered, mainly to himself, but L’s keen ears picked up on it.

“You think this is my first time giving head?” L peppered kisses on the tip of Light’s cock, Light dug his fingernails into the palm of his hands, but also flared up at the news.

“Who else have you done this with?”

L pulled off of Light, an amused expression on his face, “Hmm… Didn’t take you to be the jealous type, Light.”

“I am not jealous,” Light wanted his voice to be commanding, but L was still rubbing the head of his cock with the pad of his thumb-- the tiny, barely there bits of pleasure were just as overwhelming. “I was just curious.”

L shook his head, unfazed, “Let’s just say he was an old roommate of mine,” He gave a short chuckle to a joke only he seemed to understand, “You’re not the first to be fascinated by my oral fixation, and I do love a nice cock in my mouth.”

Before Light could respond, L dropped down to his base, and Light let out a choked out moan, but was still coherent enough to berate him, “S-so you did know what you were doing?” L looked up at him, doll eyes all wide and innocent, a stark contrast to his not-so-innocent pink lips wrapped around Light’s cock. Just the sight made him dizzy, “Bastard...” He managed before slipping underneath the pleasure once again.

L sucked on Light’s head, using his other hand to stroke Light’s length. The dual sensations were overwhelming, but the best sight was watching L on his dick, eyes glossy but focused like he does when fixating on case or a sweet, but now all he wants to do it give Light pleasure and make Light feel good and have his lips around Light’s cock-- around Kira’s cock. He had to bite his lips at the laughter bubbling up inside of him.

He gripped L’s hair and thrust him further into L’s mouth. L moaned at the action, but he still looked up at Light, annoyed. He tried his best to put on his face of schoolboy innocence, but L didn’t buy it-- he never had.

“People usually ask permission before fucking their throat.” L pressed his thumb against his lips, “I wonder what it says about you that you didn’t…” Light rolled his eyes, and subconsciously moved his hands towards his achingly hard cock, but L slapped his hand away, “If you keep misbehaving, I won’t let you come on my face.” Light’s body shuddered at that. Painting the face of the greatest detective in the world with his come made his throat dry, and even the thought of it makes him want to groan. L’s face lit up at Light’s reaction, “Ah, so that is something you would like. Understood.” He idly stroked Light’s cock with a lazy smile on his face, “Be a good boy and let me know when you are about to come.”

Light moaned at the words and L’s mouth back on his cock. His motions were faster this time, taking him all the way down to his base and back again, never once slowing down or gagging as his cock hit the back of his throat.

No gag reflex…

Light brushed L’s hair out of the way of his eyes, and then ran a hand through his own hair, pulling on his slightly, needing something, anything to do with his hands.

Breathing started to be strenuous, and Light bit down on his lip to prevent from being too loud. It only just occurred to him that they may not be the only people in this hotel suite, but he was so far gone he could not bring himself to care. L does something with his tongue that had Light gasping and no longer suppressing those needy whines. L hums against his cock, amused, and looks up at him, eyes smiling, and god there is the edge. He’s so fucking close, and white-hot burning and overwhelming everywhere.

“L-” Light choked out, tapping his head.

L pulled off of him, just in time as well, as a few simple strokes to Light’s cock and a small whisper of “good boy” had Light careening over the edge, moaning loudly, eyes welled up with pleasure as L met his flustered and unfocused gaze, his own eyes glossed over with lust. Light forced his eyes to stay open as come shot onto L’s face, over his nose and cheeks and over his lips.

“I don’t want anyone else but you to see me like this.” Light shuddered at the sight of L, his pretty pale skin tainted and painted with his release, “Thank you.”

Light’s head was dizzy with pleasure, he slumped back onto the couch. L opened his eyes, a small winning smirk on his face.

Light thought he was going to make a show about the stickiness all over him, maybe cringing after the fact. Instead, he made eye contact with Light as he dragged his fingers across his cheek and sucked on his fingers, moaning as he was doing so.

Damn it, L…

He then casually reached over to grab the abandoned homework that was still on the couch, L’s face still dirty. He looked over it and smirked, “Ethics, huh?” His eyes shined with knowing amusement, “Quite the subject for you to choose, isn’t it, Light-kun?”

#lawlight #light yagami #l lawliet #death note #anyway shoutout to all the people who have told me my oral fixation is distracting or hot this is for you #also shout out to Lu who for the past month had to listen to me struggle to write this #ok I said this last time but NOW I have officially run out of ideas #and one day I will write something other than smut I promise you just for lawlight dynamic's sake I do not have the skills yet #my writing

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sassooda · 3 years

Text

Worlds Away JJK AU / Chapter 37 - Destined for Greatness

w/c - 7,731

Suguru has been lying in bed for hours now as his mind wanders through his past and imagines different scenarios for the future. He sighs as he tosses and turns for the thousandth time, facing away from his door while his gaze takes to his new quarters that are viewable from this angle. This is by far the cheeriest room he has ever called his own. The walls are a warm yellow, the floors of solid hardened red clay and all of the matching furniture a light wood. His eyes take to the closed curtains with long thick white drapes, ‘This is so fucking annoying…’, he mumbles knowing there’s not even a window behind it, there’s no way for there to be when you’re underground. Sitting up now with aggravation, he reaches over to the bedside table and places the bowl of water he was using the night before, back into his lap. He wants to check in on Elska’s surroundings although he knows other Titers are tasked with the enemy’s usual surveillance. Before activating his technique though, he hesitates due to anxiety, ‘What the fuck am I going to do when we take her? What the fuck will she do?’. He hears footsteps approaching his door and knows Genghis must have already finished with most of the arrangements.

“Little one! Time to wake up!”. Genghis calls out in an eager voice. He stops and smiles when he sees that Getou is already awake and asks, “Aren’t you excited about today?”. He looks over the worrisome Suguru who’s vexation is transparent. The golden sheets drape along his body and slide from his bare skin whenever he moves under them.

Getou grumbles and turns his head, “I don’t think what I’m feeling is excitement…”. He keeps looking at the curtains that hide lies while wondering if he’s much different. ‘Will I have to subdue her when she lashes out? Am I going to have to hurt her when she resists?’. He’s had no qualms with doing so in the past but feels an incredible amount of pressure regarding it now. ‘Could we…like each other?’.

Genghis chuckles and ignores Suguru’s reluctant attitude while looking around the room, “This is definitely much more suitable! Did you really put in a request for a giant tub though?” He’s poking fun at his pupil but he was also puzzled by that. Genghis thinks the brighter room will serve them both well psychologically. ‘Not too shabby for being done at the last minute.’.

Embarrassed by the question, Getou submerges deeper into his bad mood and bed before retorting, “It’s for me. I’m tall.”. He was certainly not about to admit that it was for Elska, thinking she really must love them judging by how insane Naoya acted about it when the Zenin originally designed the first room where she was held. Suguru is aware that her reaction may be hostile overall and is dreading these coming days because of it so he hopes having one may ease her nerves. He doesn’t know that tub is Naoya’s thing.

Genghis isn’t really satisfied with that answer but continues on, “I’ve gathered the most adept offensive fighters we have to offer.” Knowing the Titer’s abilities are incredible but lack in the area of traditional combat, selecting the most capable available would be crucial. “I believe you’ll quite enjoy my plan…”. His teeth show in this smile now, he’s more than willing to share his enthusiasm.

Suguru finally turns to his mentor, interested. “Do tell me what you’ve concocted.”.

Genghis lights up, “So as we were discussing, we need to restrict their actions. We will make our move in a public setting but you’ll still be able to have your fun...we will have to harm innocents but I assume that’s not what troubles you.” He grins maniacally, “Mr. Satoru Gojo’s presence will be requested before the Elders here in a few and his curiosity will assure he attends.”. Genghis sighs, “I was worried Gojo might want to kill all of them but I brought in two special people to mediate our fictitious ambitions.”. He chuckles, “The silver shaman has no idea what’s in store for him.”.

Getou smirks at the thought of Gojo having the rug pulled from beneath him, “So we’re planning on having to deal with Toji, Zenin and Choso…aside from her today?” Genghis nods to his question but a heaviness forms in Suguru’s chest when he thinks about having to kill Choso. He’s still not on board with that completely and figures he’ll try his best to protect the hybrid in the midst of confusion. ‘Not him too.”. Getou wishes to find a way to bring the hybrid back to his side.

Genghis claps his hands, causing his yellow robes to flutter, “You better get up and get ready! I’m about to meet with our team. I believe your first sweetheart will be amongst them.”, he chuckles for the drama but honestly loathes that woman.

“Lidia?”, Getou stiffens immediately as that did not help his motivation. “She’s fucking crazy Master Genghis, I don’t want to be anywhere near her!”. Suguru takes his head to his hands as a few memories of her dependency and inhumane behavior flood him. ‘Psychotic bitch.’. Lidia always chased after Suguru when they were younger and at some point this wore on him as before he knew it, she was claiming them to be betrothed. She was obsessed with his destiny, his calling for the clan and would worship him in the most toxic ways due to it. Her need to be the only one in Getou’s life caused her to mutilate young women amongst Suguru’s outer circle out of spite and jealousy. Their time together did not last long as it quickly became a violent pairing, ending with him crushing her ribs under his usual technique. Suguru sighs, “She’s is not going to help me obtain another woman…”. He shudders recalling how after healing, she was back to throwing herself at him as if nothing happened. ‘Fucking…crazy…’.

Genghis hides his sneer, knowing full and well the history of the two. “On the contrary, she requested this assignment.”. He notices Suguru’s growing frustration and wishes he could explain exactly why he’s doing what he’s doing but instead says, “I’ve seen many outcomes for this and although they may have varied, I can assure you Lidia will serve a great purpose here.”. Little does Getou know, Lidia will be the proof offered to show Elska she will be cared for while in the Titer compound.

Suguru is skeptical to believe this and shows it through his expression as he rises from the bed and says, “Women are the bane of my existence…”. He stretches in his black briefs and cracks his neck while thinking something foreboding was eating at him. ‘I’m probably going to have to expose my other techniques now.’.

“You’re about to receive the most powerful wife in the world…and yet, you complain.”, Genghis teases as he’d probably be nervous too if the roles were reversed. He watches Suguru don a black robe, clearly showing signs of stress so he walks up to him and puts his jokes aside, “This is going to work out, little one, one way or another.”, and pulls Getou’s head down to plant a fatherly kiss to the top of it. After sharing the rare moment, he bows and leaves Suguru to his morning routine.

Getou watches him quietly walk out of the room with conflicting emotions. Genghis is the only man he’s ever looked up to, the only other human that ever offered genuine affection. Ever since Suguru was reunited with his mentor though, something has felt off or perhaps he’s just seems more purposeful. He’s not sure if this odd feeling is because of his own unstable emotions that threatened to derail his purpose of revenge or if there’s another reason but he can’t ignore it either way. He trusts that his mentor is still worthy of his respect and recognition though and finds his returning welcomed regardless. ‘All of those years…’, he wonders where Genghis spent his time and exactly why. ‘Did they really keep him away to simply foster my hatred for Gojo?’. He knows that doesn’t really make sense.

Genghis is turning a hall leading to stairs to take him upward. He sees two of the recruited Titers waiting for him outside of the designated meeting area at the top, smiles and nears them. The first one he shakes hands with is Sain Khun. The 32-year-old Titer was a remarkable martial artists and hunter. His rare eyes are more grey than blue and stand in contrast to his long black hair that he wears down. Sain is one of the handful of Titers that learned to channel their metaphysical natured abilities into to combative techniques but usually stays out of the political fray of the clan. ‘A fine young man.”. Before he’s able to address the handsome Titer, the second of the pairing cuts in.

“Master Genghis, I have more questions about this woman.”. Lidia shamelessly exudes her opinion of the situation and demands attention. She receives a sharp look from the clan’s head that only fuels her suspicions. “Are we certain she’s the best pairing for Master Getou?”.

“Miss Lidia, you look lovely today…”, Genghis takes her hand and kisses it, ignoring her inquires. He continues to smile until she speaks up again. ‘She never ceases.’.

“Can we trust that her intentions for Master Getou are ones we can stand by?”. Lidia shakes her long curly red hair that dances down her arms. Her green eyes narrowed still, she waits for an answer. “She’s not even human. What if she uses her powers to manipulate his biology as well?”. Her foot taps impatiently against the now softer ground, ‘I’ll fucking kill that bitch if she even looks at him wrong!’.

Genghis has already grown tired of catering to Lidia’s neediness in the short time they’ve come to know each other but understands she’s vital. “And what of your own intentions?”, he confidently questions her as he doesn’t need an answer. He already knows and is glad to see her heart hasn’t wavered from its possessive ways.

Sain feels forced as this greet was supposed to be simple. He cares not of Lidia’s unhealthy interest for Suguru and even with his instincts crying against Genghis, feels badly for the man. He decides to enter the conversation in hopes to shut it down. “Lusting Lidia, it’s time to get on with the meeting.”, and grabs her arm, leading her through the door where the rest of the selected wait.

Genghis takes a moment to center himself, ‘I understand your resentment little one…’. This quick exchange between them wasn’t the worst he’s suffered from the woman but he still cannot stand to be around her. He chuckles and whispers to himself, “But if she were any less obsessed, this wouldn’t work.”, and then enters the room with the rest as they lay out their plans.

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Elska is looking around at the busy street as they occasionally bump into passing people. “My prince, are you sure it’s around here?” She’s never been to this part of the city before and is feeling anxious by the crowd. The sun is out but a chilling breeze catches them every so often. Her mind is heavy and plagued with questions but doesn’t want to dampen Naoya’s mission for the day.

Naoya stops near the edge of the wide sidewalk and pulls out his phone, “I’m positive!”, while checking the map to make sure he could stand by those words. ‘Where is it?’. His brow creases as he studies the screen.

Toji huffs, “We’ve been walking forever.” He’s abnormally agitated but also hates crowds and is pinning the fault on being dragged out into one. He looks at Elska who’s eyes happen to meet his and feels his tension release ever so slightly as the wind blows her black V-cut dress along her knees. All of them are dressed up more than usual since Naoya begged for them to eat at one of his favorite restaurants. He sees Elska eyeing him in a way that foretells she finds his black pants and squeezing button up suiting and it makes him feel like he could deal with the clothed restriction for a while longer.

“It says we’re close!”, Naoya points to the map on his phone pridefully. It’s been a few years since he was on this side of the city and a lot has changed. He’s becoming frustrated with not knowing how much time they’ll have before Gojo returns, wanting to enjoy some normalcy. ‘I just want to treat her to nice meal!’ He turns to Elska and takes her hand, “Baby, I promise it will be worth it. I’m talking…food fit for a princess.”, when she giggles, he does too, being happy to see that she isn’t wanting to turn around. He looks to Toji now, “Want me to find you a walker?”, and snickers as the giant narrows his eyes before continuing ahead.

Elska feels Naoya’s finger lace into hers as they resume walking, with Toji on her left. She’s trying to be cheerful today, wanting to appreciate the time she’s spending with them but her mind keeps leading her into thought. The night before, Toji stopped her from feeding and although she was aware of why and understood the risks Satoru spoke about, she tried to proceed anyway. There were a weird few minutes where she could only focus on drinking from her beloved and flailed wildly as he restrained her. ‘Why did it feel like I wanted the Titer energy too?’. She thinks to hold Toji’s hand as well in this moment but stops herself as she doesn’t want to draw unnecessary attention to the three of them. ‘He looked so concerned all while I couldn’t even stop…”. The ancestral voice advised her to feed. Her heart aches as she knows this was out of character and extremely selfish when they didn’t know how it could affect her. The one thing keeping her afloat in this matter is how Toji held her after she snapped out it, how he seemed to understand without saying that she didn’t mean to.

Toji lets Naoya and Elska get a step ahead of him so he can keep his eyes on her. After their last outing, he’s remaining highly aware of their surroundings and is watching for anything suspicious. He sees Naoya in his dark grey slacks and black dress shirt, leaning down to talk to her as they maneuver through the groups of families and friends, keeping her close. ‘Is she really, ok?’. Toji recalls how she struggled against him the night before. Gojo tried to rush to the bed after seeing her reaction but Toji was also wanting to shield her from him. Her eyes changed, showing the dashes of his green while she clawed at his arms and flashed her fangs with a glare. Toji knew that wasn’t his Elska but didn’t want to make her apprehensive, so he hid her the best he could from Satoru until they reverted. He heard something from within while this was all occurring, a voice that he swears communicated for him to feed his master. ‘Is that even possible? What the fuck was that?’. He rubs his bicep after feeling a sharp pain run through his arm.

Naoya leads them to a building that has loud club music playing inside, the base being noticeable from where they stand. He looks up and scrunches his face, “What the fuck is this?”. He checks his watch that bares 1:39 and is further confused by the daytime club scene. ‘I’ve failed.’. Toji can be heard groaning so he orients himself to face them both, “It was right here!!”. He takes in Elska’s kind smile as she’s clearly not going to make him feel bad for being wrong. Not knowing what to do to save their lunch adventure he stands there awkwardly to think but hears Elska say, “Well let’s enjoy a drink while we look up somewhere else nearby!”. He smiles at her ability to always find a silver lining and follows behind her up the ramp that leads inside.

As they walk through the room on the first floor, Toji feels this intense wave wash over him. Music is drowning out most other sounds but the way the bass pulses through him allows him to feel alive. The stench of cigarettes, sweat and alcohol sting his senses while they find a seat at the bar. Once sitting, he can smell Elska’s perfume when she whips her hair behind her shoulders, exposing her neck to which causes him to stir in the stool. Naoya hands out drink menus from them all but Toji doesn’t even look at it, knowing his order already and wanting it immediately. He feels ready to pounce but is cautiously calming himself as he knows this is not the place, ‘I am NOT Gojo…’. When she crosses her legs he feels the sting in his arm again, bringing his mood back to a wavering position.

“I’m thinking a red…’, Elska states loud enough to be heard while looking over the wine menu. Naoya smiles to her words as he announces his choice of Mojito. “That’s why you’re so sweet!”, she jokes vaguely in regards to his actual taste. She places a hand on Toji’s right knee before turning to him and feels him jump. Her voice now concerned, “Did I scare you!?”. She giggles until she sees the intensity in his eyes, wondering why he’s exuding so much right then. Her breath was held in her throat as she waited for his eyes to glow, knowing that would not be good for where they are. They never do though and she eventually resumes respiration as he places his own large hand over hers. ‘What was that?’. She now swivels her head around the large room, taking in all of the day drinkers on the dance floor and seated randomly about.

The bartender takes their orders with a smile and begins to serve them up right there. He recommended a red for Elska that he swears was his personal favorite and proudly waited for the approving sip. When she stated its palatability, he then left to attend other customers while Toji stared him down menacingly. ‘That’s a brave man to be flirting right in front of us.’.

Naoya sips his drink while eyeing Toji chug his whiskey on the rocks. “Slow down old man, we still have to go somewhere to eat!”, he laughs at the eyeroll he receives and notices Elska drinking pretty quickly as well. “Baby, what’s on your mind?”, he knows something is bothering her and wonders if they’re both just nervous after the last Titer attack. ‘Maybe I can convince her to dance it away!’, he thinks as he imagines himself twirling her under the disco ball. He just wants her to have a good day.

After finshing her glass already, she sets it down and tells Naoya, “I’m fine, I promise! I just really have to pee!”. He chuckles and adjusts himself so she has more room to slide off the stool. She announces that she’ll be right back before searching the walls for signs indicating the direction she should take. A drunken man bumps into her shortly after leaving the bar and can feel Toji increase his presence so she turns around to show that she’s fine. The whole room was lively except for Toji’s motionless staring. ‘I better be fast before he loses his shit.’.

“She shouldn’t be alone.” Toji followed her with his eyes as she turned a corner down a hall. He’s worried about her and has this familiar unyielding need to be in her vicinity. It’s almost as if he knows something is about to happen. “I’m going to wait for her, watch the drinks.”. He hears Naoya protest with grief but faces him and says, “Boy, why don’t you find us a place to eat since we’re out here because of you.”, and places a hand on Naoya’s shoulder as he goes to walk past to counter the aggression in his voice. “Order another round too will ya?”.

Elska stands up in the stall and flushes but doesn’t leave. She’s feeling like Toji’s eyes were trying to tell her something minutes ago but she can’t figure it out. All she knows is that it was sexy. She opens the latched door to wash and dry her hands but takes in her reflection in the mirror and thinks, ‘Life is so much crazier now…’, but smiles to herself knowing she had fantastic support from everyone. The door pushes open abruptly behind her and she gasps in startlement before realizing that it was Toji himself. “TOJI! What if there are others in here?!”. She can tell by his focus though that it didn’t matter anyway.

“Doll…” he mutters as he locks the door behind him. He sees that she was caught off guard when she asks what he was doing in there but he just walks closer until he’s inches away. “I need…”, he lifts her up so she can wrap her legs around his waist and supports her weight with his right arm. “I need you.”, he whispers while dragging the tip of his nose along her collar bone, watching her skin change pigment from his glowing eyes. Her hands are roaming through his hair and he moans to the sensation of her nails against his scalp. “Right now.”. He nearly growls as he sinks her into his groin from above.

“Toji…”, she was right about his prior intensity but can’t find it in her heart to stop him as he begins kissing the crook of her neck. The music can be heard through the walls along with idle chatter and it all serves as a reminder for where they’re at. She thinks of her pheromones and instantly pulls herself out of their beautiful trance. She whispers, “We shouldn’t do this here, my beloved.”, and frowns as he lifts his head to meet eyes. “I can’t release them here, it’ll be a disaster…”.

He agrees that they shouldn’t have sex and nods with a grunt but that’s not truly what brought him in lady’s room to begin with. Feeling his fangs form he shows them to her and happily takes in her reaction as she smiles and moves her hair while saying, “Oh! ok…but we have to be quick!”. He squeezes her cheek with his right hand that supporting her rear and drags his teeth across the skin of her neck. “I just need to taste you.”, he wantonly groans before biting down. She gasps to his intrusion and grips his hair as he begins to suckle. His own whimpers could be heard between his gulps, loving every drop he’s being given as he deciphers her soul and feelings. Her flavor, now that he’s not as overloaded by the information, is reminiscent of the aroma born from a field of flowers. Each time he swallows more of her blood, his overall restlessness fades while her squirming increases.

Elska cradles his head into her while melting in the master’s ecstasy flowing through her. Her eyes are closed as she bites her lip and attempts to muffle her sounds. “My beloved…”, she whimpers to him while her fingers stroke through his hair. His hypertonicity dwindles as she feels his left hand travel up her back, resting a grip on the nape of her neck. “I love you, my beloved Toji…”, and gasps in desperation as she can sense his own, wanting to assure him of his importance. Those same fingers now dance along her clavicle as he brings them over the wounds to close them while panting into her neck. He leaves his face buried there, adorning the area with his lips slowly as he she can tell he’s gathering himself. “Do you feel better?” She caresses his temple and cheek hoping that he did, feeling terrible that she didn’t recognize or even sense his disposition sooner. When he lifts his head to look at her again, she feels the need to lock her lips to his as they both exhale in a gratified union. She moves the hair out of his eyes and kisses his forehead before he gently puts her back down, him looking refreshed with a bashful grin.

He grabs a paper towel from the dispenser and wets it. In the mirror he can see Elska’s loving eyes watching him and the scar on the corner of his lips bends pleasantly. While wiping away any evidence, he shyly adds, “I love you too, doll.”, the words still seeming unreal. After discarding the bloodied paper towel, he takes up her hands in his own, “I’m sorry for following you in here, I just…I really needed to do that.”. He’s still uneasy by how compelling the desire was. “I felt like I wouldn’t get another chance.”. He sees the concern on her face and doesn’t want to worry her, “It was just time for me to feed doll, everything is ok.”. Her hand sails upwards to hold his cheek and leans into it. ‘I have to keep her safe.’.

Naoya is watching the condensation accumulate on his glass and is now feeling nervous as he checks his watch again. ‘Where are they?!’, he swings around in the stool to check the room and feels an incredible wave of relief as he finds Toji and Elska making their way back to the bar. After they sit he asks, “Did you guys go to the bathroom at the dorms or what?”, but picks up on the weird laughs he receives from them. ‘He wouldn’t have tried something sly, would he?’, and squints his eyes at Toji. ‘He looks way better though.’, and decides to let it go as he’s sure even a quickie couldn’t be that quick. “Baby…”, Naoya slides his phone over in front of them as he finishes his second Mojito, “I’ve only been here once but they have beautiful seating along the water!”. He cackles, “…and it’s only about half a mile away by foot…”.

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Gojo is quickly walking through the whited-out halls with Choso following. He speaks without looking, “Choso, when we get in there…I have to warn you, you’re not expected.”. Gojo heard Choso stop in place so he turns around to see him. “You’re with me though so it’s fine! If they say anything to you, just ignore them. I will do the talking.”, and waves for the being to hurry.

“I…I don’t understand why I’m here with you and not everyone else…”. Choso is familiar with the Elders but can’t ignore the fact that he used to work for them where as he’s now on the opposing side. ‘Is this a good idea?’. He was expecting Gojo to sulk and whine to being called in today and is puzzled by how thrilled he seems.

Gojo jumps up to click his heels to the side before saying, “I don’t trust these cunts and I’m almost positive this is a trap of some sort…”. He notices Choso’s eyes widen with confusion so he continues, “If they’re trying to distract me from Elska, they fail if you’re there using your technique to watch her for me!”, his smug grin appears, “This way I’ll know the moment something happens.”. He’s sure the Elders have called him away in order to create an opportunity but has a mind to flip their plans upside down with this small act of rebellion. “I can never remember where to go! This shit all looks the same…it’s creepy.”.

Choso sighs but tries to keep up with Gojo’s quickened pace. The bright lighting overhead is blinding and causing him discomfort as he prefers darker places. He doesn’t know what to make of Gojo’s explanation but figures he’s along for the ride at this point anyways. “Do you think they’d even admit to what they’re doing?”. Choso understands the amount of secrecy the surrounds the Elder’s goals and is sure that he’s not even fully aware of their intentions.

“Yes. I will make sure they do.”, Satoru’s words are eerie but his expression is still delighted. “These fuckers have messed with us for long enough. They’re cowards, Choso and the things they want to do to my love are unacceptable.”. Gojo is certain that none of the others would have condoned what he’s thinking he’ll have to do which is why he said nothing before leaving. “They need to leave her alone and how can I call myself the strongest if I can’t protect her from these witless skin bags?”. Satoru at least wanted to inform Nanami of his meeting but hasn’t been able to reach the fellow shaman yet. ‘Did they get to him too?’. Gojo is certain that something happened with Shoko but was waiting to see how things played out. ‘As long as she’s fine, I know she can handle it.’, but worries about Nanami’s reaction if he’s already discovered this too.

‘What is he going to do?’, Choso feels like something big is about to happen, something that cannot be taken back. The unnerving pressure in his gut hints that whatever it is, it’s not good. “Itadori and the others are still on standby but isn’t it odd that they haven’t been given any missions?”. They pass more rooms before Satoru finally stops. Choso watches the silver shaman’s expression change to lethally cold one before straightening himself with resolve, and knows he should do the same. ‘I guess I have to just trust him…’, the thought not sitting comfortably at all.

Gojo quietly speaks, “Remember, don’t mind them, they’re not worth the stress. You do not serve them any longer.”, and places a reassuring hand on the hybrids shoulder. He’s impressed when he looks over the being, seeing that his previous nervousness has been cast away and replaced by a collected ensemble. ‘I’m pretty sure I’m right about him.’, and feels poised in the dark nature that lurks beneath Choso’s kindness. Turning back to the door, Gojo kicks it open fiercely before entering. “WHAT’S UP FUCKERS?!”.

Three people sit along one side of a long white table, seeming prepared aside from the sudden commotion. The first is a representative of the Kamo clan, a new middle-aged face Satoru has never seen draped in dark red robes. The second is a Zenin, the bought errand man known better as “Peaches” for a less known reason. Gojo knew him rather well from his childhood and all of the clan events he was forced to attend. The third, however, catches Satoru by complete surprise and angers him. The woman sitting as a representative for his own clan is none other than his mother.

Gojo seethes with white knuckled fists, “What the fuck are you doing here?”, as old anguish resurfaces between the two. Satoru hasn’t been home in years and purposefully. He was sure if he stayed any longer, he’d annihilate his own family.

The Kamo rep scoffs, “Yes… well hello to you too Satoru Gojo. We could ask you the same.” He points to Choso, “Isn’t that Kamo property?”. The hybrid and Gojo fail to give him the time of day, causing tension.

Gojo never takes his eyes off of his mother while waiting in silence as Choso dutifully ignores them. His eyes darken, “I asked you a fucking question you miserable old whore.”. He feels the urge to gather a technique but calms himself with his better judgement.

His mother speaks, “That is no way to talk to the woman who raised you!”, she laughs in a haughty way but brings her dramatics to a close, “Why else would I be here? You can’t be left to just do whatever you please…”. She tilts her nose up and displays her notion that she is untouchable.

Peaches shifts in his chair, “You have something that needs to be returned to the Zenin’s. Master Naoya was promised her hand.”. He’s honestly terrified of Gojo but would never allow this to show. Satoru darts stormy eyes in his direction and he feels a chill race down his spine.

“Let’s just be frank about it. You want Elska.”. Gojo voice is calm, almost lighthearted. He brings his gaze back to his mother, feeling a little better about the situation knowing he’s going to handle more business than he expected today. “Choso, please start now.”. Gojo doesn’t have to look since he can feel Choso’s energy gathering to form the window. He watches the representatives lean to figure out what the hybrid is up to and laughs out loud. “My friend here”, He scowls at the Kamo man, “is going to observe Elska while we meet.”. He winks to Peaches, “She’s with Naoya right now for your information…Toji too.”.

Gojo’s mother bursts into hyaena laughter, threatening to rupture the unsuspecting eardrums of the others. “You think you have it all figured out, don’t you? Such a pitiful child.”. Her long white hair waves in the air as she jerks her head to see Peaches’s perplexed expression. “Don’t believe him just because he speaks it…trust me…”, and folds her arms while thinking of how many more beatings her son should have to experience when younger.

Peaches clears his throat and tries to save face, “Surely this is some kind of joke. Master Naoya loathes your very existence Satoru.”. He’s now chuckling to himself having felt it was a test of some sort, “Are we not on better terms than that of your games?”. He’s now sure it was a lie.

Gojo regrets that Peaches is here today but is unable to overlook the fact that the old goat is in cahoots with this situation. ‘It can’t be helped!’. He turns to Choso now for the first time since they walked into the room and is reassured that nothing bad is happening. Now facing Peaches again, “You know… Zenin and I got off on the wrong foot.” He grins, “But now we have threesomes!”, loving the shock that plasters everyone’s face. The Kamo man choked on his own saliva to the mention. Gojo looks at his mother, “Don’t be upset just because no one wants to fuck you. It can’t be helped when your cunt leaks venom.”.

Choso sits motionlessly as he listens to the meeting unfold, completely flabbergasted by Satoru’s way of speaking. ‘What did his mother do to him to make him hate her so much?’, he hesitates to explore the options in his mind as he can only imagine. Aside from that though, Choso has never witnessed such a display of blatant disrespect to the higher ups and is completely unnerved by the silver shamans ever changing composure. ‘What is he planning to do?’, the ominous feelings he’s experiencing from this are only growing at this point.

Peaches is red with embarrassment, “HE WOULD NEVER DO THAT!”, and allows his anger on the matter to spill over. The representative huffs relentlessly to the accusations and feels disgraced for his ears being exposed to such vile talk. When expecting to see an angry Gojo, he’s further confused by the smile that meets him instead.

Gojo runs his finger along the table as he casually saunters in front of each of them. “If you three decide to get rowdy…I’ll have to kill you.”. He basks in the glares and especially enjoys his mother’s fear as she knew he was not playing around. Once they become settled he says to her, “You being here makes you my enemy, mommy. How long have you been involved?”. She starts to swat his question away with a scoff but everyone leaps out of their skin when Satoru yells, “HOW FUCKING LONG?!”. He increases his presence tenfold and watches the representatives writhe in distress before him.

She says nothing.

The Kamo rep is sweating bullets as he’s only heard the tales of horrors committed at the hand of Gojo. ‘Genghis said nothing about this hostility.”, he thinks to himself as he comprehends that he’s bitten off more than he could chew. He’s afraid to peel his eyes away from the powerful shaman making inquiring demands but also wants to flee the room. ‘This guy is even crazier in person!’.

Gojo takes a deep breath and exhales dramatically, “Well…this is going nowhere…”, and summons energy into his hand as he aims it at the Kamo representative. The nameless man cries out in fear and studders in his breathing. Gojo notices Choso jump to his feet but the being doesn’t say anything. Only when the defeated female voice utters, “3 years.”, does he quell his attack. He thinks about that answer for a moment before acknowledging her again. ‘That’s strange.’. Looming across from her he now asks, “I’d already had my love for some time before that, why did you join them to conspire against me at that point? Don’t make me blow this poor guy’s skull open…”, he warns of his lack of patience.

His mother sulks in her seat having her hands tied about the questioning, “I thought she was a passing infatuation at first, like all of the others but you completely neglected your responsibilities of being an heir because of that wretch.” She’s met with unforgiving eyes and wishes she was able to smack the audacity out of him but has learned the hard way about his response to abuse. “She is not yours Satoru and you jeopardize the entire balance of the clans with your actions of keeping her.”. Out of the corner of her eye she sees Peaches nod in support and feels reaffirmed by it.

Gojo slips a wild laugh and slaps the table, “She is mine though. I voyaged worlds away to find her. I went to incredible lengths to bring her back…”, he sighs while resting his hands on his hips. “You do know, mom, these Titers that have you in their pocket…they were going to use her to assassinate me.”. The atmosphere of the room deteriorates at the mention of the Titer clan. Its obvious that they were left unaware to Gojo having knowledge of the group’s silent partner.

His mother jumps from her seat and screams, “AND THEY SHOULD HAVE SUCCEEDED!”. All of the hatred she’s ever felt for her son sears the air around them, her chest feeling lighter for the honesty but heavier for the fear. “You were destined for greatness but even with your gifts, something is wrong with you! How you ever came out of me? I will never know…”. She feels she must stand her ground or else the structure they’ve served their entire lives will crumble. “You’re evil. You always have been.”.

Choso is still watching Naoya, Toji and Elska but can’t help but be distracted by the darkness exuding Gojo. ‘What is going on here?’, he doesn’t understand how this is official business and even finds himself feeling defensive over Satoru. ‘That woman is appalling.’, he thinks as he considers Gojo’s upbringing and decides there’s more to the man than he ever considered. He looks back to the window after surmising that none of the representatives would attack. Choso becomes rattled when the window shows Toji drinking from Elska in a cramped bathroom, ‘I can’t believe the lighting permits this, it must be dim.’, He temporarily becomes fixated with Toji’s fangs anchored into her as she quietly moans. He’s not seen anyone but her feed before. ‘So, his bite feels good to her as well?’. He brushes his lap as if to tell it, “Knock it off”, but his attention is soon stolen by Peaches’s mention of Elska.

“If you don’t return Elska Oda then this will be seen as an act of aggression Satoru, please…don’t do thi-…” Peaches can no longer speak as Gojo grips hit throat and is thrown into a fit of fright.

“I kind of liked you…I was use to you at least…but if you ask me that one more time, I will break your fucking neck.” Gojo feels his face twitch as he squeezes the old man’s beard into his throat, “You guys are fucking with me today and I don’t appreciate it.”. Never letting go, he turns to his mother but also glances at the petrified Kamo rep, “I do not give a single flying fuck about the clans, I couldn’t care less of your archaic ways and I am never going to surrender my Elska.”. As Peaches reaches a critical point of needing air, Gojo clamps his fingers deeper, “I left my love’s side today to be here because of your guys’ little fucking Titer friends. That is what we will discuss.”.

Gojo’s mother rushes to pull her son’s hand away but right as she’s reaching out, Satoru releases Peaches. She watches the old man heave and choke uncontrollably and shoots hateful eyes. “How dare you lay a hand on him? Do you fear nothing?”, she thinks to threaten with her husband but knows that the apple didn’t fall far from the tree so it’s likely useless.

Satoru smirks while studying Peaches inability to regain his breath, “I crushed his trachea a bit, he’s going to need medical attention soon.”. He watches the Kamo man stand up in disbelief and warns, “My mother is right about one thing, I do not fear you or your influence.”, and smiles approvingly as the man takes his seat again hesitantly.

“You psychotic little freak!”, his mother cries out in disgust, “We need to get him to a doctor!”. She feels herself fill with anxiety as she was not expecting him to go this far. “Let us take him!”.

Satoru hisses quietly, “If you guys weren’t so dead set in dicking me around then this wouldn’t have happened. No one leaves until I get some answers.”. He strolls around the table, loving how terrified the Kamo representative became when he was close. He yanks up the suffocating Peaches and throws him back into his chair, “Have some fucking dignity…I thought better of you.”. When Peaches makes eye contact, he can see the dread wash over the man, knowing their dynamic has changed forever.

The Kamo man speaks up sheepishly, “Wh…What is it that you want to know?”. He’s all for handing over the required information as he clearly cares about his life more than the others. Satoru’s expression softens as the other two representatives hang their mouths open, not expecting him to fold so easily. Gojo states, “Everything.”, which causes the rep to tense up as he doesn’t know where to begin. He hastily blurts out, “Suguru Getou inherited ancient techniques as well. The Titers are planning on taking the girl for themselves to ensure their supremacy.” He inhales sharply, “The head of their clan met his end by the hands of your company, they want to repay by being rid of you as you are their final target. You’re still too strong because of your infinity, so the girl’s fate was determined the moment you were born.”.

“You… weak imbecile…”, Gojo’s mother retaliates to the sensitive information by pushing Peaches backwards causing him to fall to the ground and thrash violently. Without so much as a second thought, she gathers energy into her hand and expels it at the Kamo man’s mouth. The representative dons his own matching blood as his brain matter exits the back of his head, decorating the white surroundings behind him. Only a cavernous jagged hole remains where the words escaped him only seconds prior. His body slumps over the table as he leaks his remaining essence into a pool that shortly forms a dripping pattern to the white tiled floor.

Choso defensively stands as the black tattoo on his faces begins to wave. “Satoru…”, is all he says while watching Gojo’s mother now strain to lift the blue tinted and gasping Peaches back upright his seat. ‘His mother is just as rash…’. Choso waits for a few moments longer but is eager to gauge Gojo when their eyes finally meet. ‘Why does he look so satisfied?’, he questions himself as he’s met with that smug smile. The Zenin man’s eyes look like they may pop out of his head but Choso can still make out the man’s reaction to his own presence. He hears Gojo say, “Everything is alright Choso, don’t worry. Just watch them.”, but the being is unable to simply sit with ease at this time. ‘How is this alright?’.

“And you wonder where I get it from?”, Gojo is irritated that the only man that was willing to talk is now dead but he’s also able to take the information to heart because of how his mother reacted. ‘So all of this really is because of me…’, he thinks of Elska with a heavy heart knowing all that she’s been through, even before he got his hands on her was his fault. ‘My love…I will make this right.’.

Gojo’s mother now sits back down, wondering if she went too far and gave away their hand. Peaches struggles to speak next to her but she can make out that he’s trying to question the fidelity of the Kamo’s last words. She sighs, “Look Peaches, I like you but I’m siding with Genghis.”. Peaches gurgles himself into a purple hue as he still cannot breathe or talk properly. She understands that Peaches was completely ignorant to the Titer’s planned betrayal to the Zenins and calm says, “They’re not wanting to eliminate other clans, they’re just going to help guide us to this proposed peace, don’t worry so much.”.

Peaches can only think of Master Naoya who he feels is in grave danger after hearing this information. ‘I…he has to know…Master Na…he needs to be made aware!’. He thinks to grab his phone but he wouldn’t be able to relay the information, nor is he fast enough to text it. Peaches chokes in his stress and can tell his body is slowly shutting down after being deprived oxygen and feels completely hopeless about his predicament. When his heavy eyes meet Gojo’s he freezes in apprehension while listening intently.

Satoru sighs dramatically with growing anticipation, “Now…where were we?”.

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tiramisiyu · 3 years

Text

【未定事件簿】 Tears of Themis: Xia Yan Personal Story 4-7 Translation

Translation Masterlist | Xia Yan Masterlist | Video

Chapter 4: 4-1 / 4-2 / 4-4 / 4-5 / 4-6 / 4-7 / 4-9 / 4-10 / 4-11 / 4-12 / 4-13 / 4-14 / 4-16

Xia Yan’s Home, Second Floor

The next day, the appraiser that Xia Yan knew appraised that two-million-dollar soccer ball very quickly.

That was not an authentic item; instead, it was an excellent counterfeit. We updated Sphinx with this information.

Sphinx: After bidding for this ball, Li Lihong gave it to the roadside children.

Sphinx: Which also means that he knew it was fake before he bid for it…

Xia Yan: One criminal activity involves using auction items as a means to accomplish an end.

MC: Are you talking about… money laundering?

MC: Using auctions to money launder by using the money in legal transactions.

Xia Yan: That’s right. If my speculation is correct, then that Wall Auction Hall probably also has to do with Hengda Financial – no, Song Heng.

Xia Yan: Trap loans are not the only criminal activities that Song Heng is involved in.

Xia Yan: He’s using this auction house to commit money laundering. It might even be possible that this isn’t the only location where he does so.

Xia Yan: Aside from that, I noticed that Li Lihong sent a message to an unknown number this morning, saying “Night, usual time, usual place”.

Xia Yan: The person Li Lihong is meeting tonight just might have to do with the money laundering.

Outside the Abandoned Factory Plant

That night, Xia Yan and I followed Li Lihong near an abandoned factory plant on the outskirts of Stellis.

Li Lihong looked around warily, then entered the plant.

Xia Yan: I’m heading in. Wait here for me.

MC: Okay… be careful.

Xia Yan: I will. Oh right, put this on.

Xia Yan handed me a concealed earbud, then stuffed the other in his ear.

Xia Yan: I can’t make any phone calls when following him, so I’ll use this to maintain contact with you.

Xia Yan nodded at me, then entered that abandoned building.

Inside the Abandoned Factory Plant

Xia Yan followed Li Lihong to the third floor. There were already seven or eight young men waiting there.

Young Man A: Bro Hong, we’ve been waiting for you for a while. You brought the stuff?

Li Lihong: Of course.

Li Lihong took out a storage disk in his pocket and handed it to the man in front of him.

Young Man: Can we start making our moves this time?

Li Lihong: Not yet, we’re still missing one thing, although I’ve already confirmed where it is.

Li Lihong: This is the most updated info. Hold onto it.

Li Lihong handed a storage disk to him.

Xia Yan hid himself as he observed, then took out a lighter from his pocket.

He took off the cover of the igniting torch first, then removed the flint steel wheel, flint, and spring.

Xia Yan wound the spring on the flint, then lit up the torch, heating the stone until it glowed red.

He stood and threw the burning stone towards that group of people—

Instantly, a dazzling white light burst, as if someone had thrown a stun grenade!

Xia Yan rushed in, knocking down several people within a single breath.

But Li Lihong had long been prepared. When he felt someone approaching, he drew a knife and slashed!

A wound ripped viciously over Xia Yan’s upper arm, and fresh blood dripped down. Xia Yan remained motionless, then snatched the storage disk in Li Lihong’s hand.

Xia Yan sprinted down the stairs on the other side, but a pitch-black gun muzzle suddenly appeared before him.

Young Man B: Even diarrhea’s got its benefits, huh? I caught you.

Young Man B: Bro Hong, I’ve made a huge contribution tonight.

Young Man B: Put the thing down, and squat down with your hands behind your head!

Xia Yan: …

Xia Yan held up both hands, then gradually let go of the storage disk in his hand.

When the disk clattered on the ground, the man released a relieved sigh.

Xia Yan twisted his body in an instant, turning out of shooting range as he grabbed the man’s hand and the body of the gun.

Bang! A bullet slammed into the wall!

Xia Yan seized the gun, then locked down on the man’s throat, switching positions with him.

The same moment, the people in the room had rushed up. They simultaneously raised their guns, pointing at Xia Yan.

Li Lihong: Put the weapon down!

Xia Yan looked at the several people in front of him. They were pointing guns at him from different angles and had cut off all directions of movement.

Xia Yan did not move. He kept one hand on the man’s throat, using him as a shield, and one hand on the gun, pointing it at the man’s temple.

Xia Yan: …

Bang! Li Lihong adjusted his firing angle, firing a warning shot at a pile of dirt in the corner.

Li Lihong: Put the weapon down!!!

I waited outside for Xia Yan.

I counted the minutes and seconds as they passed. One minute, two minutes… suddenly, the intense sounds of a fight sounded in the earbud!

Amid the chaos, it seemed like Xia Yan’s earbud had fallen. The sounds of the fight went from being beside the ear to being transmitted from far away.

Bang! A gunshot sounded in the abandoned building.

MC: Xia Yan—

I immediately called police. But, what do I do… what else can I do for Xia Yan…

Within my few seconds of hesitation, another gunshot sounded.

MC: What do I do!

⊳ Wait in place ⊳ Go in

Fearing that I would only bring trouble if I rushed in rashly, I held back my anxiety and didn’t go in after thinking things over.

…

……

Every second felt incomparably long.

Finally, my phone vibrated – Xia Yan was calling.

MC: Xia Yan!

Only when I shouted his name did I notice that my voice sounded like I’d been sobbing.

Xia Yan: I’m fine. Sorry… for scaring you.

Xia Yan: I’m on the third floor – you can head straight over.

In the Abandoned Factory Plant

I sprinted wildly towards the location Xia Yan mentioned.

I hadn’t even arrived at the staircase to the third floor when I saw Xia Yan, who was just about to descend the staircase to see me.

Xia Yan: Slow down, it’s dark here – careful—

When I saw his silhouette, my tears burst out all at once. Without a single care, I sprinted up to him and hugged him.

⊳ Wait in place ⊳ Go in

MC: I can’t just sit and wait. If I can scramble for a bit of time for Xia Yan before the police get here…

I took out the lipstick tranquilizer gun that Xia Yan had made for me before, my only weapon.

I carefully entered the abandoned plant.

Inside the Abandoned Factory Plant

One floor, two floors… when I stepped onto the third floor, I finally saw several silhouettes.

Due to my location, I could not see Xia Yan. I could only carefully observe those in front of me.

One person among them had a gun on his waist.

MC: …

MC: (With my skills, I’ll only be able to shoot one person…)

MC: (And then, these people will descend into chaos for a moment, and Xia Yan can use this opportunity to attack back.)

MC: (I’ll attack this person and shoot, then leave immediately, so I don’t get caught and end up causing Xia Yan trouble instead.)

I recalled the route with which I came in, confirming how I would escape.

Then, I carefully lifted my lipstick tranquillizer gun, pointing it at that person with the gun…

Got him in one shot!

I turned around to run, but I hadn’t even taken two steps when a black silhouette rushed up in front of me and seized my throat, applying severe pressure.

MC: Urgh!

But right after, I heard a familiar voice.

Xia Yan: MC? Why did you come in…

Thanks to the faint moonlight, I finally saw his face – it was Xia Yan.

Xia Yan let go of the hand grabbing my throat in a panic.

Xia Yan: Sorry, I was just planning to let you know that I was fine…

My tears burst out all at once, and I instinctively hugged Xia Yan.

----

MC: Xia Yan…

Xia Yan: !!!

Xia Yan’s body stiffened instantly.

A moment after, he gently circled his arm around me, patting my back comfortingly.

Xia Yan: I’m sorry for making you worry again.

Xia Yan: I’m fine, really…

Xia Yan held me gently as he tenderly comforted me.

A few minutes later, some awkward coughs sounded from not too far from us.

Li Lihong: Ahem ahem… Mr. Xia Yan, I don’t mean to interrupt you two.

Li Lihong: But this place isn’t the most suitable… also, could you explain to us what’s going on?

Li Lihong looked at us helplessly, while the young men around him had expressions full of mischief.

MC: !!!

I let go of Xia Yan in a panic.

MC: Xia Yan, what’s going on here? I heard gunshots before I came in…

MC: Wait, your arm?! What happened to your arm!

The moment I saw Xia Yan, my brain was too preoccupied to care about anything else. Only now did I notice a knife wound on his arm.

Xia Yan simply wrapped up the knife wound on the arm.

Xia Yan: Actually… everything was a misunderstanding.

Xia Yan turned around and looked at Li Lihong and the men around him.

Xia Yan: This Mr. Li Lihong, and the other guys… are all policemen.

MC: Policemen?!

Xia Yan nodded, then told me everything.

[Flashback]

Xia Yan looked at the several people in front of him. They were pointing guns at him from different angles and had cut off all directions of movement.

Xia Yan did not move. He kept one hand on the man’s throat, using him as a shield, and one hand on the gun, pointing it at the man’s temple.

Xia Yan: …

The few people faced off soundlessly for several seconds.

Li Lihong: Young man, I don’t know what benefits you get out of doing this, but I urge you to leave while you can.

Xia Yan: What benefits I get? That’s what you should be asking yourself.

Li Lihong: What did you say?

Xia Yan tightened his grip on the gun, coldly sweeping its point towards everyone across him.

Xia Yan: Glock 17… the gun that police around the world equip the most.

Li Lihong: …

Xia Yan: You are Song Heng’s “protective umbrella” in Stellis.

Xia Yan: Traitors are even more detestable than enemies.

Li Lihong: Hold up—

[Flashback end]

Xia Yan: That’s how it went…

Xia Yan: I thought they were turncoat police officers, so Sergeant Li was forced to tell me what was going on.

Xia Yan: Sergeant Li Lihong is an undercover agent from the Stellis Financial Crime Investigation Unit, sent to Hengda Financial. He came here today to talk about information with the other police officers in the task force.

Xia Yan lowered his body to whisper by my ear.

Xia Yan: I’ve already used my authorizations to confirm their police numbers and identities – they’re all clear.

Because he didn’t want others to overhear, Xia Yan was nearly pressed against my ear as he spoke. His warm breath and his voice spread over my ear, making it tingle.

MC: I got it!

I did my best to suppress my own panicked heartbeat and maintain my thoughts on the topic at hand.

I rushed to cancel my call to the police earlier, saying in a panic that I had heard wrong.

After, I looked at Li Lihong, still feeling somewhat doubtful.

MC: I never would’ve thought that police spies could get to a level like financial director…

Li Lihong: I was a spy at another company for a long time before. To make it easier to get information, I worked harder on the job and got promoted to director.

Li Lihong: So, it was rather easy to spy in Hengda Financial this time.

Li Lihong: Of course, I did use some other methods, but they’re not worth mentioning.

MC: Is that so? The Stellis police sure are hiding incredible talent…

So that’s what it was! Are there really this many interdisciplinary geniuses these days?!

I was just furiously complaining in my heart as Li Lihong looked towards Xia Yan.

Li Lihong: Speaking of surprising people, it’s this guy here that who really takes the cake.

Li Lihong: Are private detectives this skilled these days? Or… you’re a master among the people?

Xia Yan: …

Xia Yan: Can’t be helped. The detective profession is really competitive – if I want to earn more, I’ve got to have some more skills.

Li Lihong stared at Xia Yan for a few seconds without asking anymore.

Li Lihong: As members of the general populace, it’s not suitable for the two of you to continue getting into the Hengda Financial case.

Li Lihong: Leave the rest of the investigation to the police, and please trust us.

MC: That…

I glanced at “member of the general populace” Xia Yan, unsure of how he would respond.

Xia Yan: Of course we trust the police.

Xia Yan: But we also received a commission to investigate Song Heng and Hengda Financial. Due to some reasons, my employer needs to know about what’s happening inside them as soon as possible.

Xia Yan: Plus, Sergeant Li, you’ve been a spy for a year, yet you still haven’t reeled in the net. Which means that there must still be some issues, right?

Xia Yan: If it won’t hinder official business, please allow us to assist in investigation. After all, the police and the community are all in this together.

Xia Yan: Plus, there’s no reason needed to act righteously. As for safety, you just called me “a master among the people”.

Li Lihong: …

Seeing that Li Lihong wasn’t speaking, I rushed to provide backup.

MC: Sergeant Li, are there any places where we can help?

Li Lihong: About whether you can join in the investigations… I can’t agree to you right now. Protecting the people and ensuring that you remain out of danger is the police’s duty.

Li Lihong: In fact, you taking the initiative to give us the information you had was already a sort of help.

Xia Yan: Then we’ll tell you all the clues we currently have in detail.

Xia Yan and I told Li Lihong all about Ji Xiaoqing’s recording file as well as the Oedipus and corrupt detectives matter.

Li Lihong: So that’s what it was. A few days ago, we did receive this recording file from the criminal investigation unit.

Li Lihong: I didn’t think that you were the ones who found that evidence.

Li Lihong: As for Oedipus… according to the information you found, it might indeed be the president of Hengda Financial, Song Heng.

Li Lihong: I didn’t think that he’d also done these things…

Xia Yan: We’re currently working with Sphinx and trying to catch Oedipus – that is, Song Heng.

Xia Yan: Could this identity of ours assist your investigation somehow?

Li Lihong looked at Xia Yan I, falling into silent thought.

Li Lihong: Before Ji Xiaoyu accused Bedo Loan Company, we noticed indications that Hengda Financial was involved in gang activities, so we started conducting investigations in private.

Li Lihong: I thus applied for financial director and entered Hengda Financial as a spy.

Li Lihong: We noticed that Hengda Financial had worked with lots of trap loan companies and had helped with money laundering.

Xia Yan: But you still haven’t reeled in the net yet – are you still missing some essential evidence?

Li Lihong: That’s right.

Li Lihong: It’s the age of the legal system right now. If we want to catch Hengda Financial and their related gangs all at once, we must have a complete chain of evidence.

Li Lihong: Their legal team is extremely strong. If there is the slightest flaw in the evidence, those lawyers will use this to place doubts on the police’s entire investigation.

Li Lihong: If that happens… we can only watch as they use the name of the law to escape innocent or with mere misdemeanors.

Li Lihong’s voice had the slightest bit of repressed resentfulness in it.

The man who Xia Yan snatched the gun from earlier couldn’t resist jumping in angrily.

Young Man B: Those lawyers are always saying that we abuse public power and rambling about procedural justice this, procedural justice that!

Young Man B: I’m just a bystander, yet I can’t even bear it, so how miserable must the victims and their families be, huh? Can’t they see that?

Young Man B: Using the law to protect criminals! Any goodness in their hearts must have been gobbled up by dogs!

Young Man B: Bunch of pettifoggers. All their legal studies left them without the slightest bit of humanity in them!

MC: …

Xia Yan: …

Li Lihong: Enough. Don’t bother wasting time on complaining – this won’t help solve the case at all.

Li Lihong stopped the young policeman’s furious castigations.

MC: Sergeant Li, do you think we could help anywhere?

Xia Yan: Sergeant Li, I understand that it’s not convenient for the police to let us know details regarding the investigation progress.

Xia Yan: I do have a suggestion, though. Please listen to see if it’ll be useful.

Xia Yan: Song Heng, or “Oedipus”, believes that my partner “Sphinx” has certain important information on him.

Xia Yan: So he’s going to war over this, trying to find “Sphinx”.

Xia Yan: Could we start from this to create some setups and make Song Heng display weakness?

Li Lihong: Mhmm, this does work as a plan.

Li Lihong: You’re currently in the middle of detective investigations, which is quite a suitable identity. Plus… it would be great if you lent your skill to the police.

Xia Yan: Thanks for the praise.

Li Lihong: But as you said, it’s not easy for us to reveal our investigation actions and plans. So, right now, we can’t tell you about any ways to assist.

Li Lihong: Return from today, and wait for me to contact you.

MC: Okay.

Li Lihong: Also, Detective Xia Yan, I apologize for injuring you.

Li Lihong looked apologetically towards the injury on Xia Yan’s arm.

Li Lihong: You can come with me to the police station and apply for compensatory procedures, and deal with the wound in the meanwhile.

Xia Yan: No need, I can deal with this little wound myself.

Xia Yan: Plus, it was all a misunderstanding. We can call it even since you’re not going to charge me for assault of police.

After, we said our farewells to the policemen.

#Tears of Themis #tears of themis translations #xia yan #luke pearce #tot translation #raven!!! so badass aaa #the fluency with which he said glock seventeen #so hot

19 notes · View notes

jauneda1 · 3 years

Text

RWBY

The New War

Jaune's First solo Mission

One year after the initial attacks

War changed Remnant after the attacks one year ago. The kingdoms are all against each other Vacuo in a constant battle with Vale due to the leaders of Vacuo being taken out by the terrorist group know as the Black mask. They instilled a system in there kingdoms laws that makes it impossible for people to go against the military. Innocent men, women, and children are forced to live in poverty. While the men and women who took their nation get to live without a worry. Until the combined forces of Vale and Atlas military tried to invade and save the once beautiful kingdom. The only problem is that there are Grimm new kinds of Grimm no one has ever seen. Not to mention the White Fang are and still are a threat to both sides. They're force had grown exponentially due to their attacking and ultimate destruction of Mistral and the Huntsman Academy of Haven. Even with all this change and destruction of the peace our heros burst forward in hopes of finally ending this conflict.

Desert's of Vacuo

Jaune had just to touched down on a mountain range, from where the two where standing he could see the inner city, all the way up to around the capital. He wouldn't be able to do much just sitting here. Jaune's mission was simple sneak behind enemy lines and escort and evacuate a defecting White Fang lieutenant, her name is Ilia Amitola and she served directly under commander Adam Taurus. She is a valuable asset to say the least.

In Jaune's ear piece he can hear Raven checking in. She being his main mentor for the past year she would be kind of walking him through this mission of his.

Raven: How is it on your end?

Jaune: Clear. How everyone doing up there?

Raven: Don't worry about that you have a mission. Hop to it reminder you have a limited time window.

Raven: Not to mention this is your first solo mission so stay hidden and try not to cause a scene.

Jaune: You know your to serious about this I'll get in get out and be done. By the way what do we call this mission?

Raven: Jaune you have to be serious if your captured that's it. We can't come and save you. You'll be treated as if your acting on your own terms.

Raven: Ruby and Yang are gonna be heart broken if there best friend doesn't come back. Plus Summer will blame me for the rest of my days.

Jaune: Okay okay. Serious

Jaune took this short moment to remember everything he has learned in the past year. Then the people who are counting on him right now. Blake was the one who begged Ozpin to send someone in. He volunteered he was gonna keep his promises to his friend. It's what Arc's do, they'll never go back on there word.

Jaune: (Inhales) (Exhales)

Jaune: Commencing Virtuous mission now.

The Grimm in the surrounding area of Vacuo where a lot different from any of the ones Jaune is used to seeing. But they are still easy to sneak past especially with the gear Jaune has on.

Jaune: I gotta hand it to the tech guys this is supposed to hide my body heat and give me a near invisible camouflage.

Raven: Well not a hundred percent. It's more to give you the look of transparency but really your suit uses the surrounding area to automatically change and conceal you.

Raven: So don't thinking it'll get you out of trouble all the time.

Raven: Again try not to be seen. The target is supposed to meet you on the south west side of the city.

Jaune: Yeah and that means I need to go through the capitol. Should I plant bugs around or just stick to my main objective?

Raven: Stick to the main objective your on a 2 hour time window.

...

Raven: Jaune?

Everyone in the observation room back at HQ where shocked Jaune had encountered plain of some type of burial site but some of the people hung up on poles are still breathing they are just dehydrated and starved. There were soldiers, civilians, and children. What shocked everyone even Jaune as he can hear Blake shout out over the mic.

Blake: ILIA!

Jaune looked up to one of the poles to see a naked dehydrated and beaten women Jaune could tell she was alive but he wouldn't be able to fulton extract her, not in this condition. So mission complete he'll just call in a chopper and put her on it and do what needs to be done. Jaune wasn't obligated to do what he has intentions on, but if someone doesn't do something to weaken the Forces of Black Mask and White Fang here in Vacuo then the war to reclaim the kingdom will never come.

Jaune: Send in a chopper and make sure medical is on it.

Raven: You got it, Jaune I know what your thinking. Please don't do what your gonna do. Everyone saw your vitals spike.

Raven: But I've known you since you where a boy. I've been like your second mother please be on that chopper when it arrives back at HQ.

Jaune stayed silent and continue to stay silent as he climbed up the pole to cut down and carry Ilia she wasn't making the trip unless he did so. But the reason Jaune kept quiet wasn't because he was worried about what Raven said. It was because if Ilia was secretly defecting from the Fang why was she out here and for how long who knew she was a mole and was trying to defect.

But the answer was a red laser that pointed at Ilia's head. Jaune instinctively got in front of her and a loud shot rang out as it hit Jaune in the back. Jaune at this point was able to jump down and bring Ilia with him to keep her out of harm's way. This was a trap and Jaune had just been caught in it.

Raven: Jaune! Are you okay?

Jaune: Going dark until I can take out this sniper.

Raven: Jaune no your mission is complete you just need to get out of there.

Ruby: No that sniper could bring down the evac chopper.

Yang: So he's forced to deal with the sniper.

Yang: You've got this Jaune.

Jaune: Mhhm.

Two Minutes later.

The sniper was beginning to feel bored. Questions like how long is he gonna sit behind that rock, or is he still there and if so what is his angle. He's stuck and can't move. She then she had an sudden urge to check behind herself as if something that was life threatening to her was right there about to strike. When she looked there was nothing. But then her semblance hit her hard as she was nearly cut in half, she jumped back with a lot of force because she got hit but her gun took the damage.

Looking now it was the man she thinks was behind the rock. But how could that be he was more then 150 meters away he wouldn't have been able to have got this close to her this fast unless he knew where she was the second the bullet went off. It makes sense now the second the laser of the rifle tagged the traitor he glanced back eyes widen and scanning. Remembering it because it was odd he sensed danger evaluated it and reacted in under a second. Not to mention he took a bullet for her. He has aura does that mean he's a Huntsman.

The sniper had little time to think as Jaune's eyes focused and he rushed forward and was now behind her and chopped her in the back of the head knocking her out. Jaune wasn't going to let her live at first but he wants to send a message. After calling for a chopper. Jaune set the female sniper up on the same pole Ilia was left on. Jaune didn't strip her like they did Ilia but he was sure the Vacuen heat would do enough. If she doesn't return they'll come and find her later.

(Jaune's Mind)

"Make better choices next time cutie."

(Ricky)

"She is a liability, can't just let her go."

Jaune: Huh, Raven did you say something?

Raven: No all's quiet on our end.

Jaune had no idea what that was but he gave it little thought as Ilia's condition was worsening. It's a good thing to chopper 31 showed up right then and there. Jaune was gonna be honest Ilia was cute but he needed to make sure she was safe at HQ.

HQ Time 8PM

Ozpin had spoke to Jaune alone about his mission and the two of them where unreachable for an hour. All the while the rest of JNPR and all of team RWBY where bed side of where Ilia was recovering Blake had her friends hand clutched and hoping begging she would fight through this. Jaune had came into the room and seeing the mood of the room. He was sure that Ilia was fighting for her life. But the Arc had other plans he took a bullet to the back of the head for her. She wasn't gonna just die on him after all this work he put into saving her.

Jaune: Yeah no this mood is just not doing it for me.

Jaune: I didn't go through all that for you to just die infront of me.

Jaune put his hand gently against the side of her face giving her some of his kinetic energy. It was enough to boost her aura levels.

Jaune: So sorry but not sorry, your not dying today.

Everyone looked to Jaune everyone except Blake looked to him as the only thing keeping them all going. Jaune just brings light to the darkness wherever he goes. As Ilia's heart beat grew stronger everyone could hear the faint sobbing from Blake till she jumped up and wrapped her arms around Jaune's neck and cried into his shoulder.

(Yang's mind)

"He may be the reason we all keep fighting, but what is his reason. But what is your reason for fighting on Jaune, I know this all has to be effecting you. You don't even come to me anymore. Maybe Lady Killer doesn't need his Dragon anymore? Yeah no that changes tonight."

Jaune was not aware of how much trouble he is in later on tonight.😁

End of part 6

Teams and they're roles

RWBY: Alpha Team

JNPR: Bravo Team

Spies: Blake, Ren, Jaune, and Yang

Spies are top 4 who have high covert ops training, master's at close range and trained directly under Raven and Qrow Branwen. They're main objective is to be ghost in the shadows gathering info and all around espionage tactics.

Solo ops: Jaune, Yang, Blake, and Ren

Solo ops are simply the same as spies but they have been cleared for solo operation. These ops are espionage and covert only. If they are caught on solo ops they will not be given help from any outside options everything is on them.

Omega: Jaune, Yang, Pyrrha, and Ruby

This team is comprised of High-grades only of given orders to take out an entire compound this team makes sure of it. No matter the difficulty they get shit done. Not even they're friends know there mission details only Ozpin and Ironwood know.

#jaune arc #rwby #team rwby #ilia amitola #may zedong #professor ozpin #raven branwen #summer rose #white fang

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chaoticevilbean · 3 years

Text

Inspired by Redemption and Far From Home, Close To Heart

Luke stumbles into the shuttle, heaving as he carries his father’s body the final few steps. The ground shudders beneath, a sign of the impending destruction. His mind is numb, not letting anything slip into his head. He has no thoughts but one, as though he’s on autopilot. He has to get into the air. Now.

Somehow, he manages to get into space and out of range just moments before the Death Star explodes. The shuttle rocks a little from the waves of energy, but settles quickly enough. Luke can’t tell if he’s about to pass out or throw up, or maybe both, but he still manages to turn his head to the controls, prepping to return to the Rebellion.

He stills as he does a double-take of the view outside the transparisteel.

A void. Absolutely devoid of stars, planets, and ships. Where are the Rebels? Where is Endor? Where is everyone?

A light catches his attention. A star pops into existence, shining brightly. As he watches, another pops up on the other side of his view. Another at the top. Another by the first. Suddenly, the pinpricks that are stars are materializing from nowhere, filling his vision with a brilliant white. He feels the need to look away, but doesn’t. The Force is screaming at him to look, to keep his eyes forward. He obeys, despite his eyes trying desperately to blink away the overload, despite his mind pressing him to call for the Rebels, for Leia and Han, despite the part of him that is numb with pain and grief and exhaustion.

The last speck of black disappears, and suddenly, Luke is constricted. He feels something compressing him, and he can barely breathe, but he trusts the Force.

Just as it all grows to just below too much, it stops. The light is gone, the constriction is gone, and Luke feels like he’s floating in the center of space.

It only takes a single second between his eyes closing at the sudden darkness and them opening for Luke to know something has changed drastically.

For starters, his head feels a little clearer, and he can actually form thoughts now. He passes that off as the Force’s help. His body is still pumped full of adrenaline, leaving his pain as null as it can be.

The larger difference is the shuttle… which is no longer a shuttle. Instead he sits in some sort of starfighter, equipped with technology that looks at least two decades old. Luke’s sitting in it as though he’s been flying for hours, the security belts wrapped snugly across his chest. A quick glance back shows him that his father’s body isn’t there. Granted, the ship would be too small, but Luke is still disappointed when he sees nothing but more outdated tech.

He’s still in his singed clothes, and he can see the faint lines from being shot full of electricity. Instinctually, he wraps a hand around his lightsaber, startling at the feel of another weight. He looks down, and takes a deep breath as he tries to remain calm.

Five lightsabers. Five. Kriffin’. Lightsabers. One is his own green blade, and he recognizes the one next to it as his father’s, the one that’d made him check his belt. Two more radiate darkness, and he guesses them to be the Emperor’s own blades. The last saber is one he has no clue who it belongs to, but it’s light is brilliant in comparison to the three shadows between it and Luke’s own weapon.

A large boom draws his focus to the open space in front of him. He swiftly takes the controls, letting the Force and his own knowledge of engineering and ships take over as he adjusts to the old machinery. He sees a planet nearby, he himself having been facing enough away to not notice initially. Outside the planet’s atmosphere, Luke’s breath is taken away.

Two Venator-class Star Destroyers battling three Munificent-class frigates, a flurry of fighters surrounding them and causing small explosions that left small bursts in Luke’s vision. He can see vulture droids mixed in, and it seems that most of the fighters belong with the destroyers and the droids with the frigates.

He startles at the beeping of a comm from his controls. He’s cautious, uncertain of where he is and what just happened, so instead of simply accepting the call, he makes sure it’s only audio first. Then, with a deep breath to steady himself, he presses the answer button.

“Trooper, state your designation.” Oh. They think he’s a stormtrooper.

Don’t answer, the Force whispers to him. He doesn’t, instead starting towards the battle.

“Trooper, state your designation or you will be targeted.” Luke notices the voice is nervous, hidden under a professional steadiness. The Force whispers more. Good. Not Imperial. Fight. Fight with them. Luke has never been one to ignore the Force. With a renewed determination and energy funneling into him, he revs the engine, shooting off like a bolt towards the battle.

Instantly, there are droids seeking him out, targeting the fighter as an enemy. Luke doesn’t hesitate to blast them, quick and clean shots. They collide with each other, blowing up as the vacuum of space pulls them apart. Other fighters unthinkingly attack anyone tailing him, and he responds in kind. He ignores the voice that calls for his designation again, only noticing when the call clicks off. Perhaps the officer believes his ship is unable to connect properly, and took his joining the battle as him trying to prove himself not an enemy without comms.

The battle’s tide is slowly turning to the side of the troopers, who apparently aren’t Imperial, which is strange. But the frigates are still firing, and it’s not a guarantee of victory yet. Luke decides to change this.

Remembering his flight against the first Death Star, he passes right next to the main frigate, close enough to draw the attention of a large group of vulture droids. The other fighters do their best to shoot the enemies down, realizing that one of their own has some sort of plan. With little hesitation, Luke fires directly at a small weapons port. He remembers the main layouts of these sorts of frigates, having studied them with Han because “Ya gotta know the basics first, kid, and these are what I grew up with.” The plasma hits, and it’s just like he planned.

A chain reaction, like the Death Stars. The port blows up. Being so small, there’s no shielding, and nothing stopping it from blowing up the port next to it. There’s a series of explosions along the frigate, followed quickly by the shields going down as their generators are hit. In truth, it’s a clever blueprint, only expending power on the bigger weapons, which are more likely to be targeted. But the smaller ones are made closer together, and they make a path straight past the protection of the generators.

With nothing between the walls and the oncoming attacks, the main frigate fails quickly, and Luke barely makes it away before it explodes, splitting in half and taking out another of the enormous ships with a collision. The last ship is swiftly decimated, all droids going lifeless without their command centers. Fighters rush to destroy them fully, before the one-person ships return to their destroyers.

Luke’s comm lights up again, and this time he doesn’t hesitate to answer it- just audio again, because he’s sure he’ll be blasted into oblivion if he reveals his true face.

“Trooper, good work out there. Return to the Resolute and we’ll see if we can fix that receiver of yours.” He responds by ending the call, a signal he was listening, hopefully. He moves his fighter to obey, about to follow the starfighter that looks most like his own, at least from his limited angle, but halts at the humming negative from the Force. A nudge directs him towards the planet, so he turns right around and launches off towards the surface. The comm lights up again, but he ignores it once more.

Upon breaching the atmosphere, it’s clear what the Force wants. A large amount of outdated droids, ones that look straight out of the Clone Wars era, face off against a legion of- wait. As Luke flies closer, his mind reels. He’s in a ship at least two decades from the past, and fought droids with troopers who aren’t Imperial. Not to mention that many of the ships had some sort of personalization to them. Even the legion below looks more varied in color than stormtroopers would be. And more droids, more Clone Wars era droids, are fighting against them.

A flash of blue catches his attention, and seals the conclusion. He’s in the Clone Wars. The Force somehow brought him back in time to when the clones haven’t been brainwashed and turned against the Jedi. Luke knows it’s true, not just from the humming energy around him, but also from the fact that a Jedi is among the clone troopers, currently slicing apart B1’s like they’re flimsi.

Deciding that flying will make him too much of a target, Luke drops down at a high speed, pulling up just enough to not crash and barreling through the droids far enough away from the troopers that he won’t hurt any. They’re in a city, one with earthen buildings and green roofs. The transparisteel pops up and he jumps out, using his green blade to destroy the machines around him. The Force leaps to his aid, and he directs it to push back at his enemies, clearing the area swiftly as the poorly made droids crumple. He doesn’t feel bad about their demises, knowing they’re only partially sapient. Nothing like Artoo or Threepio.

With a small pause in fighting, he closes his eyes, raising a hand up to help concentrate on the Force around him. He senses the droids for a good chunk of distance, and manages to stretch himself to the troopers and the Jedi without overexerting his already low reserves. He’s still rather numb from his battle on the Death Star, but wounds have never stopped him before. Gently but quickly nudging the Force away from the living beings, Luke closes his fist slowly. He can hear as well as feel the metal being crushed as the Force wraps tightly around each piece, pressing inwards with a strength that can’t be fought.

The droids for roughly a square mile around him are destroyed, pummeled into nothing by his will. He doesn’t rest, instead rushing towards the Jedi, even as he feels their presence rush towards him. They’re bright, radiating peace and serenity.

Luke rounds the last corner just as they do, coming face-to-face with the troopers and their leader.

The Jedi wears brown robes of varying shades, covered in dust. A Human male, with auburn hair and a beard. He seems taken aback at the sight of Luke, although who can blame him. The young man probably looks a few inches from death.

The Force doesn’t wait for the Jedi or his troopers to recover, instead pressing Luke in a new direction. He turns his head towards it, letting his senses enhance with the urges of his ever-present companion. There’s more droids. He guesses that the Force wants all of the destructive machines gone, so he doesn’t waste a second to rush off, ignoring the exclamations behind him as he dashes to obey.

His feet are numb as he runs, but he feels every impact jarring his body, and knows he can’t keep up the adrenaline much longer. He exits an alleyway straight into another group of troopers battling B1’s, and hurries to slice the enemies to scrap. He sees another Jedi, his heart soaring as much as it can at the thought of more of his new people being alive. The purple blade doesn’t halt in its attack, even though Luke can feel the scrutiny of the wielder on him.

Once more, the moment there’s a big enough break, Luke’s eyes close and his hand raises, and he crushes as many enemies as he can from his position. He feels the Force pressing on him again as he opens his eyes, and he distantly hears the sound of something clunky and metal heading towards their area. He follows the directions, saber aloft as he goes to meet the fast-paced enemy in the middle. Whatever is there moves fast and without worry.

A strange sight greets him, his mind struggling to comprehend for a moment before finally clicking the pieces of history into place. General Grievous, a mostly cybernetic Kaleesh.

He is more droid than organic. The thought attempts to slip through, only to be grasped by the Force, energy pulsing in agreement. Grievous sees him, lightsabers drawing in a menacing action.

“Ah, a Jedi,” his raspy but deep voice calls. “Your sabers will be a fine addition to my collection. And you have so many.”

Luke bows his head in concentration, disengaging his saber and putting it on his belt so he can raise both hands. He hears the movement of the CIS general, but trusts in the energy that swirls around him. He wraps it around Grievous, much like he did the droids, but this time only uses it to take hold of his limbs. Said limbs move without the commands of their attached brain, instead twisting around each other. Grievous roars, perhaps in pain, but definitely in rage, as he loses control so quickly, watches his own body warp into a cage for him. The lightsabers he holds fly from his cloak and hands, straight onto the belt of his victorious opponent, one who did so little and yet so much.

Luke opens his eyes, waiting for the next command of the Force, hoping that it will lead him a step closer to whatever reason the energy of the galaxy has for bringing him here. He receives only a nudge to wait a moment. He does, hands gripping his singed shirt tightly. A voice that sounds like Leia tells him to get medical attention as soon as possible. A voice that sounds like Han tells him to demand a reward. He brushes both away with a small smile.

Both Jedi he encountered barrel into the open area, lightsabers out and ready, only to pull up short at the sight before them. Luke gives them a small wave, still smiling a little.

He knows that it truly is a sight to behold. Grievous was always portrayed as a sort of monster-under-the-cot in his history lessons, and the cyborg truly did look it. To find said monster twisted into a Tatooian knot is surprising, to say the least. Then Luke himself is singed and sweaty and has five lightsabers on his belt, along with whatever ones Grievous had been carrying with him.

But just as they observe him, Luke himself attempts to memorize the features of the Jedi.

The one with the purple blade is also a Human male, dark-skinned and tall. His head is smooth-shaven, and his clothes match his peer’s. He gives off an aura of control, of a determination born of practice. His eyes are distrusting but curious, but what else can be expected in a literal war zone?

The blue-sabered one hasn’t changed in the time between Luke first seeing him and now, but now Luke can make out some of the details. The man has bags under his eyes, and a gash on his cheek that is sluggishly bleeding. Both Jedi’s clothes show marks where blaster bolts barely missed their targets.

“Hello there,” the first Jedi calls over, eyes darting between Luke and Grievous with partially concealed shock.

“Hello.” Luke winces at the word, raspy and painful. He attempts to clear his throat, only to find himself coughing horribly at the rough feeling. The Jedi look concerned, the dark-skinned one a bit more mildly, at the small fit. Once he’s recovered, Luke tries again. “Hello.”

“Well, it seems you’ve done us a great favor. That is, if you were the one who crushed the droids and did that,” he waves his hand in a vague gesture at the still growling and twisted Grievous, “then we have much to thank you for.” Luke nods in affirmative, already feeling the adrenaline starting to fade a little. His head is getting a little more fuzzy, and his body is feeling more unbalanced. To counteract this, at least temporarily, Luke calls on the Force for support, clearing his head and grounding himself in the moment.

“Who are you?” The purple-sabered Jedi speaks up now, eyes narrowed in suspicion. Luke sees him glance down at his belt, where so many weapons are clasped.

“Luke Starkiller.” Rebellion protocol has been drilled into him, that he has to give a fake name until he can figure out if he’s safe.

“Mace, as much as I know you wish to question him, and goodness knows I would love answers as well, I think it best we get him some medical attention. It’s amazing that he hasn’t gotten psychic shock yet.”

“Psychic shock? What’s that?” Luke receives two extremely worried looks in response, signs that perhaps Yoda and Ben missed something important in his training. It’s practically confirmed when the two men turn back to each other, instantly engaging into what Han loves calling “let’s not die” mode.

“I’ll get Grievous and him to the transports, along with all the other wounded. You move forward in the campaign.”

“Master Koon should be down soon to help us.”

“Well, that’s good then. We no longer need three generals down here, so I’ll simply trade off positions with him.”

“Make sure Skywalker’s cleaned up everything before you lift off.”

The two of them clasped arms, probably switching to communicating through a Force bond. Then, with a quick nod to each other, the two launch into action. The dark-skinned Jedi, Mace, the other called him, disappears further into the city, gone in an instant. Luke watches the movement with tired but keen eyes, then starts as their words finish registering. Did Mace say Skywalker?

But he had said his name was Starkiller. Even if they saw through the lie, it didn’t make sense for them to instantly know he’s a Skywalker. Unless… if this really was the Clone Wars, then his father is still a Republic general. Alive, fighting against the Sith, having not Fallen yet.

It’s a bit too late when Luke realizes the remaining Jedi is now standing next to him. Behind the man, Grievous levitates a few feet off the ground, silent as though having given up on making noise.

“Are you alright?”

“Fine. Just a little tired,” Luke reassures the elder being, trying to sound as little croaky as possible.

“I would think so,” he responds, clearly not convinced. Without asking, he loops an arm around Luke’s shoulders, directing the two of them back the direction they’d come. The young man lets him, keeping a determined gaze on their surroundings and letting the Force fill him. Grievous is pulled after them by the other Jedi, who seems perfectly at ease despite the famous CIS general being close enough to murder him- if he had use of his limbs, that is. Even though Luke didn’t learn much about him in his lessons, he knows the Kaleesh is dangerous, always managing to escape and often taking many lives with him.

They walk quickly, towards the presence of a large group of troopers, but Luke still manages to notice there’s no one else around.

“Where’re the locals?” he asks hoarsely, swiveling his head to peer through windows and into alleys.

“We got them out just before the assault picked up. They should be waiting a little ways away from the city, but far enough away they won’t get caught in the crossfire.”

“How large are the CIS forces?”

“The what?”

“The Confederacy.” Luke is pleased to hear the rasp in his voice beginning to die a little.

“Ah. Well, we were pretty much at a stand-off until you came along. It shouldn’t take more than an hour or so to finish off the rest of the droids, and I still don’t know how you managed to best Grievous.”

“I was already manipulating the droids, so I just went for his metal. It’s rather terrifying that he’s more cyborg than Vader.” Luke internally winces at the name as it slips out, but makes sure he remains as neutral as possible in demeanor. He does receive a very curious and confused expression, but it swiftly disappears as the clone troopers come into view. He barely keeps himself from recoiling away at the sight on pure instinct.

“General!” A trooper rushes over, his armor painted yellow in several places and scuffed and dented from many battles. He comes to a halt right in front of the two Humans and the Kaleesh.

“Commander.”

Sensing the tension from the commander’s gaze, Luke steps away from the Jedi, moving back a little and coming to stand a few feet closer to Grievous. His actions are acknowledged by a glance over, before the Force-user continues speaking.

“Has Anakin checked in yet?” So his father was alive. A version of Anakin Skywalker that hadn’t yet been Darth Vader, one that was still loyal to the Jedi Order.

“Yes sir. It appears that the enemy frigates have been destroyed and General Koon is on his way down as we speak.”

“Good. And the men?”

“A few major injuries, but the rest we can treat on the go. We’ve prepped the ones that need bacta to join you on the transport.”

“Excellent. Then I want to make sure the troops are ready to move out soon. Send word to the civilians that the city is almost taken. They should be good to return by sunrise tomorrow. Help Windu with the clean-up and I’ll contact you once we’re aboard the Resolute. I’ll need to contact the Council as well.” At his last words, the auburn-haired man sends another glance towards Luke, who only just catches it. Most of his attention is on the gold-eyed glare coming from his left.

“Sir, if I may, who is that?”

“Luke Starkiller. He’s the one that took down both the droids and Grievous. I’ll be bringing him back to the Resolute with me, seeing as he needs, at the very least,” a pointed look is thrown Luke’s way, “a check-up with Kix.” Luke bristles at first, before remembering how many of the Rebels avoided medical attention unless forced to or in major need. He himself only received timely care due to Leia’s authority.

“Copy that, sir. I’ll get the troops moving.” The commander nods once, before swiftly turning on his heel and barking off orders. The clones, in yellow or purple themed armor, begin moving instantly, obviously trained well.

“Well, come along, Mister Starkiller. We’d best get moving.” The Jedi’s arm is suddenly back around his shoulders, pressing him forward. Luke is willing to let this happen, as the older man seems trustworthy, his presence filled with light. But the Force is still swirling around him, whispering directions into his mind.

The ship. The fighter. Return. Follow.

“Actually, I have my own ship. I just need to know where to go.”

“Ah, yes. The starfighter, I presume?”

“Yeah. I don’t think it’d be good to leave it in the middle of the streets, especially if the locals are coming back soon.” The duo stops, Grievous still behind them, and the Jedi regards Luke with a neutral expression. He worries for a moment that he might have to make a run for the fighter, but the anxiety fades quickly as the other being smiles warmly at him.

“If you wait to take off just yet, then I can comm you when Master Koon arrives and you can escort the transport back to the Resolute. That way you’ll know which ship it is, and-”

“-you can keep an eye on me, seeing as I’m not exactly trustworthy just yet.” He receives a small chuckle as an answer, and, surprisingly, the Jedi turns to continue heading to the landing zone. He waves once over his shoulder, a flick of his wrist in the air. Luke grins, forcing himself into motion once more and relying on the nudges of energy to find his way. He really hopes they get to the Resolute soon, seeing as he’s relatively certain that not being able to feel one’s lower half is considered bad. He assumes that the (probably) Star Destroyer is equipped with a medbay.

The starfighter is right where he left it, transparisteel raised. He leaps inside and settles down, securing himself and preparing to take off as soon as he gets the all-clear. It comes sooner than he expected, the comm blinking as the call is picked up. Luke answers without changing the settings, leaving his audio on and his feed off.

“Starkiller.”

“This is CT-5852, Stump, clearing you for escort.”

“Thanks, Stump. Liftin’ off.”

“Copy that, sir.”

Luke starts the engine up as the call drops, checking his systems before lifting the ship off the ground, retracting the landing equipment as he does so. His nav-system picks up the Republic transport’s signal, and he sidles over to it. Through the transparisteel, he can see the pilot, Stump, sitting there. The moment the trooper looks over, Luke gives him a thumbs-up, receiving one in kind. Just like flying with the other Rogues.

The Rogues. That could be fun.

Luke latches onto the transport’s comm number, punching it in and waiting for it to pick up. It does, and he can see the look he gets through the clear material. He grins with mischief, and enjoys Stump’s double-take.

“This is Stump to Starkiller.”

“Rogue Leader, reporting. Rogue One still in action. Fly high and may the Force be with you.” Laughing at the waves of confusion and amusement he can feel from the other, Luke tilts the fighter, pulling closer and performing a barrel roll around the bigger ship. He rises back to level to see the trooper holding tight to his controls. Stump looks over at him as he smirks back, and he does the maneuver again, this time staying underneath the transport and waiting. He’s a little surprised but not at all disappointed by the reaction he gets.

“Rogue Leader, bogey check,” Stump practically crows through the comm. Luke responds with an actual crow, remembering his first time being taught the phrase among the Rebellion. Hopefully it’s the same among the clones.

The fighter zips out from under the ship, rising fast right in front of it but without colliding. He spins as he rockets skyward, then diving back down, making sure to get a full view of all angles around Stump. Finally, he rushes over the top, narrowly avoiding the durasteel, and loops around to resume escort position.

“Bogey free, you are clear, Stump.”

“You are absolutely insane, Rogue Leader.”

“Aren’t we all?”

A laugh escapes over the mic, before the call is ended again. Luke’s smile shrinks to something softer, reminiscing about training flights with the Rogues. He misses those, having not had time in quite a while. But right now isn’t the time to spend remembering them. The Force clearly wants him to fix the past. Why else would he be brought back in time to when his father isn’t evil and the Jedi and the Republic are still alive? If he plays his cards right, perhaps he can save the galaxy from the Empire. Maybe even establish something similar to the Rebellion’s forces, only this time for fun or to protect planets with the aid of Core Worlds.

The transport and its impromptu escort make their way outside the atmosphere of the planet with ease. Luke pulls back a little, allowing Stump to lead him to one of the Star Destroyers. Belatedly, he realizes that the officer that commed him earlier said to ‘return’ to the Resolute, the very place where he’s now moving his fighter to dock. The landing gear descends as proper gravity once more takes hold, and Luke puts out the engines the moment the fighter settles.

Before opening the ship, he takes a moment to look around at the inside of the Destroyer. He sees a plethora of blue troopers, mixed with several yellow and red troopers. Grievous is being dragged off by several of them. Starfighters and transports and small frigates are docked all around, along with piles upon piles of crates. He sees the auburn-haired Jedi standing beside a young Togruta, the elder listening as she speaks animatedly to him. She, too, has the lightsabers and bright presence that mark her a Jedi. However, every ounce of Luke’s attention is drawn by the man that enters the hangar from the nearest entrance.

Dressed in dark robes, with dark blonde hair and a scar that travels down from his hairline to just past his eye in a straight line. His presence is bright, as bright as the two suns of Tatooine at midday. Another Jedi, but one that seems to ripple with energy, the Force swirling like a whirlpool around him. Luke recognizes him from holos Han showed him, ones saved from a Corellian childhood in the midst of the Clone Wars. The Hero Without Fear was the only thing Luke could get his friend to call the Jedi. Han had lied when he said he didn’t know the man’s real name, but Luke hadn’t pushed.

Transparisteel lifts as the unwitting time traveler finally manages to overcome his hesitation, sliding down the side of the fighter to the ground.

Almost instantly, a screeching astromech nearly barrels into him, circling him before finally hiding behind his legs and nudging them a bit harshly. Following close is a pair of yellow troopers, eyes angry but turning to shock at the sight of the singed stranger. Glancing back, Luke’s heart momentarily aches at the sight of Artoo, which he pushes aside. This version of his partner doesn’t know him yet.

“Is something wrong?” he asks innocently, moving slightly to the right to hide Artoo more. The action is noticed, as well as the clearly exaggerated expression on his face.

“That little osik zapped us!”

“What’s an oh-sik?” The troopers freeze, clearly not expecting that to be the part questioned. Slowly, as though scared Luke is going to press for an answer, the two back away, turning around after a few steps and hurrying off. Artoo trills happily at their retreat, circling around to face Luke.

[Thanks for the save. They deserved it.] Luke laughs at the familiar bluntness.

“I’m sure they did. But be careful next time.”

[I’m always careful.]

“Is that why you were hiding behind me?”

[Strategic retreat.] Luke laughs again, even though his head is once more feeling lighter than it should.

“And who’re you?” The voice draws his attention, and he turns to see the Hero Without Fear looking over at him in curiosity, as well as concern.

“Luke Starkiller.”

“So you were the mystery pilot!” the Togruta exclaims. Her voice cuts through the hangar’s overall noise, yet is ignored entirely. It likely only seems so brash to Luke because of the slight ache growing at the back of his skull.

“Mystery pilot?” Luke’s voice has suddenly returned to the hoarse rasp from before, the first Jedi’s worry seeping out at the sound. The young Togruta looks at him with a surprised expression, but returns to her previous energetic words.

“Yeah, no one recognized your fighter, but it shows up as Republic so the bridge tried to contact you. According to them, your comm wasn’t working, but you joined the battle so you definitely weren’t an enemy. And then you blew up the central command frigate, and you took down so many droids, and when the bridge tried to call you back you looked like you were heading over. But then you went down to the surface and you weren’t picking up any calls and we got word from Cody that a fighter had landed in the middle of the city. And then-”

“Breathe, Snips,” the Hero Without Fear reminds his companion. She does pause, smiling sheepishly upon realizing she’d been rapidly speeding up her speech. He chuckles at her good-naturedly, turning to face Luke with a smile not at all affected by his scar.

“Sorry about my Padawan, she gets rather excited sometimes.” Padawan. That’s what Jedi call their students.

“It’s alright,” Luke rasps back, then tries to clear his throat, forgetting his earlier attempt. He doubles over as a large coughing fit wracks his body. Someone grabs onto his arm, supporting him from the left, but he can’t tell who. There’s a faint ringing that’s growing fast, the ache from his head moving to between his eyes as well.

Suddenly, the energy that has been keeping him up drains quickly. It feels as though something is wedging itself between him and the Force, cutting off the support he’d been using since planet-side. Pain courses through him, piercing every organ and straight through his skull. He’s coughing too much to do more than gasp at the agony. Waves of numbness intersperse with the stinging, and he’s vaguely aware that he’s dropped to his knees. Whoever’s on his left grabs his shoulders, and there’s so much noise, so much light, so much-

The world goes black and silent.

#star wars #star wars au #time travel #luke skywalker #clone wars #return of the jedi #luke goes back in time to the clone wars #he goes from having just finished one war to the middle of another #he gets electrocuted and loses his father and then overextends himself without a care while unknowingly fighting beside his father

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seiin-translations · 3 years

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2.43 S1 Chapter 5.1 - Stand By Me

1. NIGHTMARE OR REALITY

This entire chapter (as in the entirety of Chapter 5) is from Haijima’s point of view and honestly it’s surprisingly endearing? That boy truly only lives for volleyball

Also Kuroba’s a dumbass as usual

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When he thought about it, it was obvious, but he realized after he started playing in the position that the setter was the one who could touch the ball the most in a game. In the basic system of volleyball, which was to return the ball within three hits, the setter was the one who always handled the second hit. Not the first hit or the third, but the middle of the series of plays.

The attacker was the ace in volleyball, but Haijima considered himself to be in the “middle” of the game, and he didn’t want to give up his position as the “one who can touch the ball the most” to anyone.

Normally, the reception would be messed up so that the ball wouldn’t return to the setter, but Haijima would run as fast as he could to bring the ball back into his territory. The second hit was his, and he didn’t want to give it anyone else. He then controlled the third hit to be hit by the attacker. If he didn’t do the second hit himself, it would become a high set, but if he did, there were plenty of options for attack. It could be connected to the third hit as a tactic. The movements of the attackers on his team, the positioning of the opponent blocking system and receivers—the movements of all players on the court, both friendly and enemy, were instantly assessed. Haijima’s eyesight was generally poor, but his periphery vision seemed to be unusually good. He was catching things other than the ones he was focusing on at the edge of his consciousness.

Not only relying on sight, but also using all the senses of the body to take in the flow of the situation on the court. It was a feeling of submerging his consciousness into the court and connecting to the center of the court’s nerve network. He could hear the sound of the plug snapping into place in the back of his head. That feeling was the best.

No matter where he was on the court, as long as he was below the ball, the signs were still active. The combination was working. He could still set the ball anywhere. The center’s B-quick, the right’s broad jump, the back center, and then——.

Kuroba was there. He was in his black uniform, cutting in from the left.

At that moment, he could see the trajectory of the set he was about to make stretching out in front of him as though it was the root of a tree growing rapidly. He could clearly see the place where Kuroba was going to hit. It was some distance away, but he set the ball to that position with the hope that he would hit it. Far, high, and straight. To a place no one but him can reach——.

There was a sudden sound, like something shut down.

The lights in the venue suddenly went out and it became pitch dark. At the same time, the nerves that had been strung throughout the court from within him were cut. He lost his enhanced senses and felt a sense of loss, like his limbs were plucked from him.

In the darkness, Haijima was confused. He was impatient to concentrate and connect with the court once more. He reached out a mental feeler and tried to grab hold of the cut end of the connection he had just made.

A white sphere came flying towards him in a parabola. It was a ball—it still hadn’t fallen yet. When he reached out for it, relieved, he gulped when he saw his own hand appearing in his field of vision.

He had…no fingers.

From the second joint onward, where did they go…?

The ball was approaching in front of him. On the surface of the spinning ball, there were sticky finger marks in the color of blood.

***

He was shocked at the scream he made. He swept his hand in front of his face and slammed the back of his hand on the tatami mat. The pain woke him up.

Was that…a dream…?

“What the…”

With an exhale, the strength slipped out of him and buried the back of his head in the pillow. He could barely see anything without his glasses, so the outlines of everything were blurry. The wooden ceiling of the old house and the outline of the paper-covered electric light hanging down from it barely bled into his vision. It was so bright outside that he couldn’t make out the light of the miniature light bulb he had turned on when he went to bed.

“What day…is today…”

It was August 3rd. The third day of the Fall Tournament. Isn’t it time to get up already? This morning, his grandmother, who always stepped in without reservation and opened the shoji* doors wide before his alarm clock went off each morning, didn’t come in. But he could hear her preparing breakfast in the living room.

Oh, wait, yesterday…I said something to Grandma yesterday. What was it…?

He rolled over and pulled his summer futon up to his nose while trying to remember. What, aren’t you just trying to go to sleep again? He made a jab at himself. There’s a game. I have to get up. But his body refused to move. On normal days, he had a hard time waking up, but on game days, he woke up so well that he was more restless under the covers.

Yesterday’s game was horrible. As he curled up in his futon and recalled some of the scenes, he felt depressed once again. He had never made such a rookie mistake before. He was amazed at himself for being surprised by the ball and knocking it away like an amateur.

Normally, he would have a scorebook in his head from the start of the set to the end, memorizing all the plays for each point. If he wanted to, he could replay in his mind the movements of all players on the court in that rally from different angles.

But for yesterday’s game, the scorebook had many blank spaces. Even the memory of what he himself was doing was lacking in some places, much less the details of other players’ movements. When he was on the court, he could concentrate without even thinking about it, but yesterday, his concentration was breaking up halfway through the game and he had to “spare his mental strength to gather up his ability to concentrate,” which made him exhausted in a weird way.

I wonder if I’ll be okay today. Will I be able to do as well as usual? If I think stuff like that, the game becomes a huge bother.

I don’t wanna go today…I wish it would disappear, the game…

“!?”

His eyes snapped open in the dark futon.

Did I think that just now? That I wished the game would disappear——?

He shivered at the fact that he had that thought flash through his mind.

It was the last day of the Fall Tournament, which was being held over three days from August 1st to 3rd. Yesterday, on the second day of the tournament, Seiin High School had made it through the second and third rounds and were moving on to today’s semifinals. They were all supposed to meet in the club room today and travel to the venue together, but it was about five minutes past the meeting time of six-thirty when Haijima rushed into the club room.

“Sorry, I’m la…”

“No, it’s fine. We’re all here now. Then, we’ll announce today’s schedule.”

The captain, Oda, raised his hand lightly, and then looked around at the team members who had gathered before them.

“You’ll be dismissed after the meeting.”

The members of the team, who were carrying luggage and preparing for the departure order, naturally let out murmurs of confusion.

“Captain. You’re a super serious person, so you don’t have to calm our nerves with bad jokes. Anyways, isn’t Kuroba the only nervous one here? If we don’t move now, we’ll be late getting into the venue.”

Okuma’s voice, with its light inflection that almost seemed forced, stuffily echoed in the cramped room that was densely packed as it was. The rotating fan, though small, was making loud noises, but it only served to churn the lukewarm air and diffuse the stink of sweat. Oda looked at Okuma silently, but there was no smile on his face, and Okuma awkwardly withdrew his smile.

With his back against door, Haijima lost his voice.

He grew pale, thinking that the match was really gone because he wanted it to be, even for just an instant. There was no way that could be true. He was still in his nightmare. That would be much better.

Before him, Okuma, Kanno, Uchimura, and Hokao formed a wall of second-years, and Oda and Aoki were standing in the back of the room. Kuroba was sitting in a chair between the two captains. The cooler box that Kuroba carried home yesterday was placed in a corner of the room.

He saw a bruise on the left cheek of Kuroba, who was sitting with his head hanging down in discomfort.

He understood the situation immediately. This wasn’t the continuation of his nightmare, and it wasn’t something he wished for to happen—it was simply a predictable reality.

Impulsively, he slammed his fist against the door and removed his back from the door. He was about to step to the back of the room with long strides, but Kanno and Uchimura caught his crossed arms from both sides and he pitched forward. He leaned over the two’s arms and shouted.

“Are you an idiot!!?”

“Why are you yelling at me without giving me a chance to talk! I didn’t do anything!”

Kuroba shouted back, using the enamel bag on his knees as a shield and drawing back his big body. His anger boiled over at being opposed, but Kanno held him from the front and restrained him. “Calm down, Haijima, you can get angry after you hear what he has to say.”

“Senpai, that’s not really the end of the explanation, is it. There’s no way everyone would accept it if you suddenly told them to go home because we’re not playing anymore.”

Kanno turned back to Oda and said. While he was speaking quietly, his tone, which was usually reserved and mumbling, was clear and an octave lower. That showed Kanno himself was quite angry about the situation. The other second-years seemed just as unaccepting, and Oda, the smallest on the team, was on the receiving end of questioning gazes from everyone. Even Aoki, who usually served as the mediator, folded his arms with a dour and difficult look on his face, and only casting his eyes down.

Aoki raised his eyes and opened his mouth deliberately.

“Let’s check one thing first. Kanno, Haijima, you didn’t go home with Kuroba yesterday, did you?”

“Yesterday…?” Kanno looked at Haijima’s face, and then said, “Yes. The three of us separated. I went home in our car. Haijima went home in Kuroba’s mother’s car, and Kuroba…rode in his cousin’s truck.”

“Do you or Suemori-san know that cousin?”

“Well, he’s two years older than us, and I think everyone in our generation at Monshiro Middle knows who he is. He’s famous in town…”

Aoki narrowed his eyes as though he was thinking something. Kuroba’s “famous” cousin was of course Kuroba Yorimichi, not his younger sister. However, Aoki moved on to the next part of his talk without touching on it any more than that.

“Those of you who come through Suzumu know that you can see Suzumu Play-One, the building with the big bowling pins on the roof, from the railroad tracks, right? It also has a karaoke place and game arcade inside. Yesterday at the bowling alley, a group of bowlers from neighboring lanes clashed with each other and a fight broke out. The alley called the police and one of the groups was arrested, but the other escaped. The school was informed that there was a Seiin student in the group that escaped. An employee witnessed someone wearing our team’s jersey—Kuroba, that’s you, right?”

“I didn’t go to the bowling alley. I didn’t even know about the thing with the cops until I heard about it today.”

“So, you haven’t been to the bowling alley, eh. Then, if you weren’t involved in the fight, then what’s with this bruise?”

“It was because I wasn’t being careful. I don’t have to tell you the reason.”

Suddenly, Aoki grabbed Kuroba by the collar.

Seeing Kuroba being lifted from the chair and gritting his teeth saying “Ow!”, Haijima got goosebumps and thought, His back—?! In addition to his amazing jumping ability and the flexibility of his shoulders and elbows, Kuroba was an attacker who could bend his back far like a supple bow and hit the ball. Injuries to the spine could have a big impact on play. He didn’t know if it would be useful or not even if they had a game today——.

“Stop it, Aoki! Let him down!”

Oda said in a restrained voice. It was different when it was the other way around, but it wasn’t everyday that you saw Oda calming Aoki down. “He’s the one who betrayed your trust.” Aoki thrust Kuroba aside resentfully. “Aren’t you the ones who don’t trust me?” Kuroba grumbled, after he was returned to his chair with a thump and smoothed down the stretched-out collar of his T-shirt.

“Kuroba. I trust you, and I don’t think you’re the kind of guy who’d try to cover for yourself in something like this. But if you can’t explain your injury, then I can’t convince the school. If you just tell us honestly what happened…”

“I told you many times before, haven’t I? I wouldn’t stake my life on something that’ll get us suspended from games. I’m not causing trouble for the team. Getting injured on the day of the game is my fault and you can get angry about that as much as you want. I’m sorry about that. That’s all I have to say.”

“You looking down on us? I’ll kill you!”

Oda grabbed Aoki’s arm again as Aoki shouted that angrily and tried to raise his hand again. Meanwhile, Haijima lunged at Kuroba in fury and was prevented by the barricade all the second-years hurriedly made, and in the end he had his arms pinned behind his back by Okuma. The legs he blindly raised overhead kicked at the air. Kuroba’s chair fell over as he was ready to run away. The narrow room suddenly fell into chaos as everyone moved at once. The fan fell over and the wind billowed in the wrong direction.

“Not causing trouble for the team? Like hell you’re not! We can’t play today’s game!”

“Hah? I don’t want you to talk to me about the team!”

As he awkwardly fell on his backside, Kuroba suddenly got angry and shouted back.

This was when Haijima’s eyes widened, not understanding the meaning of such an objection.

“Enough!!”

Oda’s angry voice pierced through the noisy room.

“I’m talking about all of you! You wanna cause violence in the club and do something you can’t undo!? If all you guys do is get in my way, then you should all quit!”

All the team members looked at Oda, speechless. Even Aoki looked shocked.

Oda immediately came to his senses. “Ah…” he muttered and turned red.

In a large-sized team where more than half the members were above 180cm, the 163cm Oda was conspicuously small. However, as far as Haijima knew, he always looked up with his chest puffed out, as though pushing the handicap aside.

That Oda hunched his back, turned his face diagonally downward, averted his gaze from the team members, and spoke in a whisper, as though he had given up.

“Anyways, there’s no game today. As soon as I know what’s gonna happen tomorrow, I’ll write it on the whiteboard, so come and see it. If the situation doesn’t change at this rate, there’ll be no practice in the meantime. …That’s all, meeting’s over. You’re dismissed.”

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#2.43 #2.43: Seiin Koukou Danshi Volley-bu #2.43: Seiin High School Boys Volleyball Club #2.43 book 1 #2.43 translation #2.43 seiin high school boys volleyball team

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eclecticmiasma · 4 years

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Cold Blood (Bucciarati x Reader)

FS, as I deem you, you are always welcome in my inbox you nutball 😘 Incoming forced Bucciarati x Reader angst.

In the end, even the righteous are nothing more than animals.

NSFW

[Warnings: rape, dead dove do not eat]

Art credit: MIE. on pixiv

When you and Bruno had entered the abandoned hangar, it seemed normal enough. A bit ominous in how massive and empty it was, an impression not helped by the lack of lighting, but nothing out of the ordinary. All you wanted to do was get in, gather some intel, and leave.

That’s when you spotted Diavolo’s henchmen.

“You’ve built up quite a reputation for yourself, Bucciarati. Many loyal citizens even refer to you as the Santo di Napoli…How quaint.”

Bruno’s mind reeled for ways to wipe the shit-eating grin off of the green-lipped doctor that loomed atop some scaffolding near forty feet above you. Even the gremlin that perched next to him on all fours seemed to be mocking in his gaze. Fear etched its way into your features, as neither of your stands were equipped to reach them. Until they made a move, you were caught like mice in a trap.

“My orders were to execute you both, but there’s a small experiment I’ve been dying to try for decades. The world lacks such passionate and honorable men as yourself, and I fear that if I simply snuff out your life now, I might never get the chance to see if my theory holds true.”

Your capo stood in front of you protectively, fingers itching, a cold and calculated look on his features. He was no doubt regretful that he had asked you and not one of his other underlings to help him with this task. His number one goal was to protect the ones he loved, and his love for you ran much deeper than you even realized.

“You see, I have a theory that any man on the planet can be brought to their base instincts with nothing more than a chemical. Humans love to drone on about how civilized and evolved we are. We tout our self-control as though we’re anything more than sentient beasts…The problem has been finding a man virtuous enough to be worth experimenting on. You should be honored that I’ve chosen you, Bucciarati.”

Cioccolata gave Secco a tap on the head and gestured for him to fish something out of his pockets. The boy did so gratefully, worming his fingers through the taller man’s pants until he found what he was looking for. His shoddily held together mask slipped down and revealed a beaming grin as he held up a small pistol for the doctor to see.

“Perfect! Always a reliable boy,” Cioccolata praised, flicking a white cube into his pet’s waiting mouth. He turned his attention back to his anxious captives, “If the experiment goes well, I’ll gladly let the two of you live. Though, I don’t know if you’ll want to.”

It happened in a millisecond. He pointed the pistol straight at Bruno and pulled the trigger once. Something much thinner than a bullet shot right through Bruno’s black and white suit into his bicep. You rushed forward to help him as he cried out in pain, immediately ripping the foreign object out of his arm and throwing it to the floor like it was made of fire. It appeared to be some kind of small, pink dart.

“Stay back!” Bruno shouted at you, feeling warmth spread from the sight of injection throughout his upper body. Whatever was in the dart worked immediately, and as you made eye contact you watched his frantic pupils dilate to the point that you could no longer see a hint of his bright blue irises. Panic flooded through you as you watched him struggle, fearing that he was in real pain. You turned up to shout obscenities at Cioccolata, demanding to know what he’d done, but the doctor’s unhinged look of pure delight gave you pause.

“I wouldn’t take my eyes off of him if I were you,” He said, clucking his tongue. You noticed that Secco was leaned over the edge of the scaffolding, angling a video camera your direction.

Bruno’s heavy breathing brought your attention back. He was sweating bullets, normally kempt raven hair sticking to his forehead. His eyes flicked up and down your body as his chest heaved. Fear gripped you as you realized he looked like a cornered feral animal, “Bucciarati…are you o-”

“[Y/n]…” He practically growled, limbs twitching, drool dripping from his parted lips, “Run.”

You didn’t need him to tell you twice. The entrance to the warehouse was twenty to thirty feet away. If you could just get outside, you could flag down Abbacchio and Giorno who stood as lookouts for backup.

You got hardly ten feet before something wrapped around your waist and slammed you backwards onto the hard metal floor, knocking the air out of you. Your veins ran ice cold as whatever it was immediately hooked its arms beneath your shoulders and began to drag you backwards. You kicked out wildly and screamed bloody murder, trying to dig your soles into the floor just enough to keep from being taken.

In a last ditch effort to escape, you turned your head down to bite the arms that constricted your chest. Horrified, you realized they belonged to Sticky Fingers.

“Bucciarati, stop!” You cried out, terribly confused. Sticky Fingers stopped and heaved you sideways so that Bruno stood at your feet, looming over you. His breathing was even more erratic, and his hands were visibly trembling. A single tear leaked from his blown out eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” He whispered. You tried to jerk out of the stand’s grasp as it suddenly gripped the sides of your shirt and ripped it open in a flurry of movement. Bruno’s eyes pierced your bare chest with his unhinged gaze, and suddenly he was on you like a rabid wolf. Lips, hands, teeth, breath- all of it gliding along your body at once with no regard for your sobs of protest.

Bruno and Sticky Fingers made quick work of your clothing, stripping you naked in a matter of seconds. All you could do was beg your capo to stop as he exposed you to the world, and all he could do was mutter apology after apology. He gripped your hair painfully and pressed his body against you, rutting his clothed, painfully hard erection against your lower abdomen and panting in your ear.

“[Y/n], [y/n]…I have to. I need to…”

“Bucc-Bruno, please don’t do this,” You wept. Bruno bypassed removing his pants altogether by just zipping the top half of them off completely, freeing his throbbing length. It hit your bare stomach with a sickening slap and bile rose in your throat. Sticky Fingers tightened its grip on your arms as you struggled, but you managed to kick Bruno hard in the thigh.

“You bitch,” He shouted, hands moved impossibly fast, digging his nails into your flailing legs so hard they pierced your skin. His voice sounded like it came from another entity altogether. You never even thought it possible for Bruno to get so enraged.

Just as fast as his fury came it disappeared into dust. His face immediately twisted into sadness and he threw himself against you, letting out a slew of apologies against your ear. You stopped struggling and just cried, completely stunned and profoundly conflicted. On the one hand, the man you trusted the most in this world was going to violate you beyond repair. On the other hand, it wasn’t him. It wasn’t Bruno. It was the enemies that stood proudly above you, lazily gratifying their own members to your despair.

Like a man possessed, Bruno pushed your thighs apart painfully wide and began frotting against your bare folds. His groveling melted into mumbling incoherently about all of the ways he’s wanted to fuck you ever since the day you met. It pained you deeply to think that your friendship might have been nothing but Bruno biding his time, waiting for the day you would accede to his desire. You tried to shake the thought from your head. It isn’t Bruno, it isn’t Bruno.

From somewhere above, you heard Secco cackle wildly. The tip of Bruno’s cock found its way into your entrance, and the burning stretch immediately brought fresh tears to your eyes.

Bruno pressed on, despite the fact that your body rejected him fully. It was agony, your role model’s thick, dry length impaling you inch by excruciating inch. His lips met your neck and sucked angry red marks into your clammy skin. It felt like he was splitting you in two. Sticky Fingers gripped your arms so tightly one of your shoulders felt dangerously close to popping out of its socket.

“Looks like I was right again, Secco. Even Santo Bucciarati can’t fight nature,” You shook your head violently, feeling the room spin. Stop talking…you thought. Stop talking, stop talking, it isn’t him!

After eons, Bruno finally bottomed out inside of you. Even sitting still, the thrum of pain you felt around his cock was immense. Your eyes wrenched closed, refusing to watch as Bruno took your body for his own.

“Please,” You whimpered one final time, appealing to some part of Bruno you desperately hoped was still lurking beneath the surface of whatever possessed him. You were granted no such appeal.

“Fuck,” He growled, moving inside of you, dick dragging along your walls like barbed wire. He felt your hot, sticky tears against his cheek as his sweat-slicked face leaned against yours, and in his first act of kindness dragged his tongue along them, “Don’t cry, bella…you’re taking me so well…” His hips snapped against you as his hands roamed your body, grasping at whatever flesh was within his reach. Even Sticky Fingers made small sounds as his user canted deep inside of you.

Bruno moaned aloud when your pussy clamped on his length for the briefest of moments as he hit a spot that, under other circumstances, would have felt incredible. Instead, it only made you sick. A cloying feeling scratching at your guts as he fucked you with wild abandon.

His thrusts became more erratic once his lips found yours. You fought as hard as you could, clamping your lips shut and turning your face away from him. Sticky Fingers didn’t hesitate to painfully grab your jaw and snap your head back to center, using its thick digits to pry open your mouth and give its owner access. Bruno moaned into your mouth when his tongue met yours, and it took everything inside of you not to retch as it slid along your throat.

“God, fuck,” He pulled away from you, wrapping his arms around your neck and penetrating your hole at a brutal pace, “I love you, [y/n],” Your stomach dropped, “I love you, I love you, I-” His hips stuttered as his release hit him suddenly, his seed spurting deep within you all at once. You whimpered pitifully at its warmth, disgusted at the feeling of his thick semen coating your walls.

Cioccolata slowly clapped. Secco proudly showed him from what great angles he managed to film the fall of Bucciarati.

Bruno clung to you for several minutes after his orgasm, when all you wanted him to do was leave you alone to mourn. His body trembled against yours. When he finally pulled away, you saw that his eyes, the real Bruno’s eyes, were filled to the brim with tears. You never saw him look so pained. He tried to speak, but no words came. Sticky Fingers faded away, and you collapsed into a heap on the floor.

Bruno pulled himself from you and bellowed into the endless abyss of the hangar until his throat was raw.

Diavolo’s guards held true to their word. They didn’t kill you that night, or any other night. They simply collected their data, and left the two of you to wallow in your shattered new reality.

*all original work is my intellectual property. do not edit or re-upload.

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