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lexosaurus · 3 years

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The Illusionist

Dannymay2021 prompt: Illusion

My Hero Academia x Danny Phantom crossover Word Count: 5262 Read on: [ao3]

---

“A kid?” Shouta asked.

The muffled sound of an explosion echoed from the other side of the phone line.

“He can’t be older than sixteen.” Kamui Woods' voice crackled through the receiver. “Eraserhead, this is going to sound crazy, but the kid has multiple quirks. We can’t get near him. He keeps...shit, he just flew through another wall!”

Shouta shifted his cell between his shoulder and ear, launching himself up a wall and onto the roof of a low building. He surveyed the distance and saw a bright green light flash from across the city.

That must have been them.

“We need you to nullify the quirks so we can contain him till the Illusionment wears off.”

“Alright,” Shouta said, jumping off the roof. “Send me your location. I’m on my way.”

It was a new villain, one that the public had dubbed ‘the Illusionist.’ His quirk was simple, yet effective. If he touched someone, he could make them hallucinate their worst fear.

So far, the heroes and detectives on the case hadn’t been able to figure out much about the Illusionist himself. He never struck the same victim twice, and he didn’t seem to stick around long enough for pro heroes to find him. Not to mention, the majority of his attacks happened in dark alleyways to the local homeless population, far from any cameras that would have been able to pick up his face.

And that fact made Aizawa’s blood boil. Because these weren’t attacks of revenge. No, they were attacks from someone who thought it was fun to mess with the disenfranchised. Someone who enjoyed exerting their powers over those they perceived to be less than, like some kid on a playground squishing ants beneath their sneakers.

The Illusionist’s influence was powerful, and each victim reacted differently. For some, they just froze up, lying motionless until they were found. For others, they lashed out at anyone who dared get close.

And in a society filled with countless unknown quirks, those of his targets who did lash out—though victims themselves—still needed to be dealt with.

The good news was, the quirk’s effects weren’t permanent, and he seemed to require a fairly long recharge time in between each attack. So the pro heroes never had to deal with more than one victim at a time.

So far, the heroes and police force had figured out two ways of dealing with the Illusionists’ victims. Either the victims were knocked out or put to sleep in some way, which seemed to instantly nullify the hallucination, or the victims were captured and taken to the police station to allow the quirk’s effects to naturally run their course.

Considering the heroes really wanted the victims brought in as peacefully as possible, it had been no surprise to Shouta when the other heroes started calling him in for assistance. Especially when the victims’ hallucinations caused them to fight back.

Such as, apparently, this one.

Shouta sprinted around a corner, panting. The cool night air brushed against his face, chilling his skin. He glanced down at his phone, only to see that Wood’s location had moved once again.

Which meant that the unstable, overpowered victim was on the move.

Wonderful.

Just then, his phone lit up.

Shouta didn’t wait to see who it was. “What is it?”

“Eraserhead,” Kamui Woods said. “We’re going to lead him to you. Meet us over by the abandoned antique warehouse. And keep your phone on you, he’s a flight risk. Literally.”

“Understood. Any injuries?”

“A few civilians, but medics are already on it. Nothing serious.”

“Good.”

Shouta hung up and changed his course. He weaved between buildings, kicking up water as puddles splashed at his feet.

If the heroes needed to lure the kid so far away from people, then things weren’t looking good.

Which meant that he needed to end this. Now.

But he didn’t make it to the warehouse. Not before a flying, glowing figure appeared through the wall, crashing into him first.

On instinct, Shouta activated his quirk and sent his capture weapon to the glowing figure, but his quirk had no effect. As soon as the scarf landed on the boy, he jerked away, phasing the scarf through his body.

Shouta blinked, deactivating and reactivating the quirk again. But just like the before, nothing happened. The figure—the boy—just continued to float in the air, his glowing green eyes staring wildly into the hero as if Shouta were the most terrifying human on Earth. He raised his hand, and a neon green swirling ball began to form around his fist.

“Watch out!” a voice behind him yelled.

Aizawa ducked just in time. The green blast hit the wall just above him, burning into the bricks like acid.

“Eraserhead, hurry!” Best Jeanist yelled.

Shouta tried again to activate his quirk, but it was no use.

The boy screamed, powering up an even bigger blast than last time.

“Eraserhead!”

Tree roots shot out in front of Shouta just in time. The blast hit Kamui Woods’ shield, splintering the roots and sending pieces flying through the air.

“Shit!” Shouta deactivated his quirk and jumped back, falling in line with the heros. “He’s resistant to my quirk!”

“We need to get him away from the residential area,” Best Jeanist said. “Force him to the industrial complex.”

“You’re not forcing me anywhere,” the teen roared back in a thick accent. His white glow ebbed and flowed around him as if he were drunk. “I won’t let you get me!”

“What is he seeing?” Shouta asked the three heroes behind him.

“A kidnapping of some sort,” Hound Dog replied.

“He keeps referring to us as ‘Operatives’. We’re unsure what that means.”

Apparently their talking only angered the glowing teen further. He raised a fist and his eyes brightened, changing from green to blue. “You’re not taking me!”

“Go!” Best Jeanist shouted.

The heroes jumped out of the alley just as the teen released the glowing blue energy ball, coating the pavement in a shockwave of jagged ice.

“How many quirks does this kid have?” Kumai Woods exclaimed.

Aizawa landed on the roof and released his capture weapon. “Doesn’t matter. Get him to the warehouse. I have a plan, but I have to make a call first.”

“Got it!”

The heroes jumped off the roof, chasing the kid out the alley and through another building.

“Don’t lose him!” Hound Dog yelled, running around the corner after him.

Shouta stayed back, pulling out his phone and pressing one of his emergency contacts. He watched as another blue beam glowed from a few blocks over, followed by a burst of green.

What the hell is that kid?

He couldn’t believe what he’d witnessed. The kid could talk, could communicate, and yet he had multiple quirks? In the ten seconds Shouta had seen him, he was witness to flight, phase-shifting, glowing, cryokinesis, a green energy beam, and immunity to Shouta’s quirk.

And yet, the kid wasn’t a nomu. He had intelligence. He seemed like he could have been a regular teen. A glowing one, sure, but a regular teen nonetheless.

So how did he end up with multiple quirks? And how did he become the Illusionist’s latest target? The Illusionist had only ever targeted homeless adults before. How did this teen get caught up in the mix?

Unless he was homeless himself.

The ringing stopped, and a tentative voice picked up from the other line. “Sensei?”

Shouta breathed a sigh of relief. “Shinso, I need you to come to the field. I’ll send you a location. We need your quirk.”

“My quirk?” Shinso asked, disbelief evident in his voice.

One day Shouta would crack through that massive layer of insecurity Shinso still clung onto about his quirk.

“Illusionist hit a kid with multiple quirks. We can’t get near him and he’s resistant to my quirk. We need you to subdue him. Put him to sleep.”

“Okay. I’ll be there soon.”

“Sending a location now.”

Shouta hung up and forwarded his location before darting over to the scene, using the sound of the kid’s frantic attacks as his GPS.

His feet pounded on the concrete. His quirk and capture weapon may have been useless against the kid, but that was fine. All he had to do was stall for time before Shinso could subdue him.

There was a loud bang, followed by a crash. Shouta skidded around the block and, using his weapon, launched himself onto a nearby roof.

There was a large hole in the side of a building that thankfully appeared to be empty. Dust clouded the air, but through it Shouta could see the kid backing into the building like a cornered animal, his arms raised and glowing a threatening acid green.

Kumai woods stepped forward slowly, his arms raised above his head. “We don’t want to hurt you!

“Don’t—don’t come another step!” The teen growled, stumbling to the side. His voice had an odd, echoing quality to it. “I’ve escaped your stupid compound once, and I’ll do it again!”

Shouta jumped down from the roof, landing in front of the heroes. He crouched down, trying to appear as non threatening as possible. “What compound?”

The kid let out a bitter laugh. “Don’t act stupid! You were gloating enough last time!”

“We’re not going to take you to a compound,” Kumai Woods tried.

But reasoning with someone under the Illusionist’s influence was futile. Heroes and police officers had attempted it before, and it never worked.

“I’m not an idiot! I know what you do to people like me!”

Shouta froze, alarm bells going off in his head. Something was just... wrong. On a fundamental level, something wrong had happened to this kid. And based on the way his eyes darted around the empty room, he looked about a second away from making an escape.

Okay, Shouta had to stall. If the kid thought that the heroes were kidnappers, then maybe he could draw this out.

He tilted his head questioningly. “Sorry, I’m new here.” He felt his coworkers’ eyes burning against the back of his skull. “I wasn’t here for the last time.”

The kid’s distorted eyes locked onto him. “I’m sure you’ve read the reports.”

“Haven’t had time, actually. This is my first day.”

“You’re still wearing the suit. You’re still with them.”

Shouta stared at him for a moment. The kid’s stark white hair floated as if defying gravity, and the glow around him had almost an ethereal presence. But what stood out the most to him was his clothing. He was dressed like something out of a laboratory. His suit was thin and rubbery, with rubber gloves and boots to match.

He was definitely the product of a science experiment. There was no doubt about it. Likely a trafficked kid taken from another country and transported here for human experimentation.

Aizawa felt sick.

“Where are you from?” he asked.

“You know where.”

“I told you, this is my first day. I just moved here. I don’t know you yet.”

Apparently, that wasn’t good enough for the teen. “I’m not saying anything. You can ask Operative K over there.” He nodded towards Best Jeanist.

“What sorts of things did they do to you? Last time?”

“I—I don’t—” the teen stuttered, the green glow flickering out from his fists. He clamped his hands over his ears. “Shut up!”

“I don’t want to do those things,” Shouta continued. “I don’t want to...use you like that.”

“It doesn’t matter. If you’re with them, you’re here to take me. And I can’t, I can’t do that again. I’ll never let you take me. I’m smarter than your whole organization and you know it.” His eyes brightened with a frantic energy, warping until one eye was green and the other blue. “I’ve escaped from your stupid white compound once, and I’ll do it again.”

Aizawa rose slowly.

This wasn’t looking good.

Hurry up, Shinsho.

The kid raised his arms, and a swirling mass of green and blue encased his fist, traveling up his forearms and swallowing his elbows. It pulsated and grew, casting a shadow over the teen’s face.

“Eraserhead!” Hound Dog warned.

“I’m not going quietly.”

Shouta readied himself to dodge when a flash of purple caught his eye.

“Hey kid!” Shinso called out.

Glowing green and blue snapped over to the source of the new voice. “What?” he hissed.

Shouta could almost see the satisfied smirk under Shinso’s mask.

“Go to sleep.”

The effect was immediate. The mass of energy faded from the kid’s hands, leaving only his natural white glow. He lowered himself to the ground until his toes were touching the cement, then his knees, and finally his head. Then, just when his eyes fluttered close, a white ring appeared at his waist, traveling up his body replacing the glowing, ethereal teen with a small European looking boy.

“Whoa,” Shinso breathed.

Despite the protests behind him, Shouta slowly made his way over to the teen. His white hair had changed to black, and his skin had lost its glow completely. His laboratory clothes had been replaced with ripped jeans and a dirty white and red shirt.

He looked...plain. Boring and scrawny. If Shouta hadn’t witnessed the terrifying figure just moments ago, he could have passed the boy off as just a quirkless kid.

Whatever he was, he was asleep.

“Good job, Hitoshi,” he said, turning back around to face the heroes. Not to his surprise, his husband and other child were among the group. “Present Mic, Todoroki,” he greeted.

Hizashi—ever the optimist—gave Shouta a cheerful wave along with a chipper, “Hello!” while Shouto stood quietly behind the heroes.

“Who is he?” Shinso asked, eyeing the sleeping teen warily.

Best Jeanist made his way over to the group. “Some kid with multiple quirks. Likely from experimentation. With his amount of quirks, we have no idea what he’s like mentally. We need to get him to the police.”

“We sent them your location already. They should be here soon,” Hizashi said.

“Good.”

Shouta gave the kid one last glance.

What happened to him?

---

It didn’t take long before the police, led by Detective Tsukauchi, arrived at the scene. They were able to get the kid into quirk inhibitors, load him into the back of a car, and bring him into the station before he woke up.

Yamada brought the boys back home before meeting him at the station. Shouta made a mental note to grab Shinsho his favorite take-out meal tomorrow for his immaculate quirk usage.

When they arrived at the station, they brought a couch into one of the interrogation rooms, put the kid on it, and waited.

Shouta almost felt bad for him. It would have been scary for anyone to wake up after a traumatic hallucination wearing quirk inhibitors in a cold, unfeeling room. But unfortunately, nobody had known the extent of his quirks. Victim or not, he was still unstable.

Aside from sitting upright, the kid hadn’t moved an inch, and he couldn’t seem to be able to pass the inhibitors through his body like he had with Shouta’s capture weapon.

Which was good. That meant that the quirk inhibitors were doing their job.

Shouta stared at him through the one-way mirror. He’d been half expecting the same frantic energy from the teen boy as before, but the teen just sat there quietly. His slumped body language screamed resigned, while his eyes were slowly shifting around the room as if to memorize every speck of dust in the air.

“You would never suspect that kid would have multiple quirks,” Yamada said next to him. “He just looks so...tiny.”

Aizawa took a large gulp of his much-needed coffee. “And yet, he does.”

The door behind them opened, and a woman stepped through. She stopped in front of Detective Tsukauchi. “He’s not registered. We scanned the database and found no record of anyone with multiple quirks that fit his description. In addition, we ran the sample of the green substance from his projection quirk and couldn’t find any matches to any known compounds on record. We’ve sent the samples out for further testing.”

“No matches?” Shouta asked.

“Interesting.” Detective Tsukauchi said. He turned towards the interrogation room’s door. “I believe it’s time to talk to our victim. Suzuki, I want you to stay outside. I think having more than one adult in the room may scare him off. Use your quirk, though. I have a feeling our victim may be a bit wary.”

The woman nodded and stationed herself next to Shouta. She stared at the boy, blinked, and then her eyes began to glow.

“It’s showtime.”

The moment the doorknob moved, the black haired teen’s body language shifted to something more alert, more guarded. His blue eyes tracked Tsukauchi’s movements until the detective had sat down in his metal chair.

“Hello,” he said. “I’m Detective Tsukauchi. Don’t worry, you’re not in trouble today. Would you like some water?”

The teen didn’t respond.

“Do you remember what happened?”

Based on previous victims’ responses, they had always been able to remember the hallucinations, but they couldn’t recall their actions or where they were during those times.

“It’s okay if you don’t. Again, you’re not in trouble.”

But the kid wasn’t relaxing. If anything, he looked more guarded than before. “If I’m not in trouble, then why am I here?”

“You were hit by a quirk,” he explained. “Have you heard of the Illusionist?”

The teen shifted. “Maybe.”

“He’s a villain who makes people experience their worst fears.”

A spark of recognition hit the boy’s eyes, but it was quickly masked by the previous reserved expression. “So I got hit.”

“Yes. So far his targets have all been random attacks.” Tsukauchi opened his manila folder, pulling out photographs and handing them to the teen. “This was from earlier tonight. Do you remember any of this?”

He scanned the photographs, and Aizawa watched as the color drained from the teen’s face. He stared at the folder in silence for a moment before his shaky voice said, “If I’m not in trouble, I’d like to leave.”

“We just have a few questions we’d like to ask in order to help us catch him.”

“I want to leave.”

Detective Tsukauchi seemed unphased by the kid’s request. “Alright, can I get your name? We can call your parents to come pick you up.”

As expected, the teen didn’t like this. He shoved the photographs back into Tsukauchi’s hands, leaned back against the couch, and crossed his arms. “I’m eighteen. Can I go now?”

“He’s lying,” Detective Suzuki whispered next to them.

Recognition sparked in Shouta’s brain. He remembered her, she had a Lie Detection quirk. It was quite useful for police work.

“In that case, we were unable to obtain any record of any adult with your quirk combinations. Japanese law dictates that every citizen must be registered in our quirk database. So if you are unregistered, then we’d need to go through the registration process before we can release you.”

“I’m not a Japanese citizen.”

“You here on vacation?”

The kid glared to the wall. “Something like that.”

“American?”

“Yeah.”

“How long have you been visiting?”

The teen shrugged.

Tsukauchi jotted something down in his notebook. “Then I’d need to see your passport and visitor’s documentation for the official record, since you are now a victim in an ongoing investigation.”

The teen’s eyes narrowed, and he slumped down further into the cushion. “I don’t have any.”

“What happened to it?”

The teen shrugged.

Yamada leaned into Shouta’s ear. “He’s backed into a corner.”

“Yup,” Shouta took another swig at his coffee. “He can’t get out of this one.”

The teen huffed, frustration and a tint of fear strewn across his features. He ran a hand through his messy black hair. “Listen, can I just go? I don’t remember anything, okay? I was just sleeping and then all of the sudden I...I...he got me. But I swear I wasn’t doing anything, and I didn’t see his face.”

Detective Tsukauchi nodded compassionately. “I’m very sorry that this happened to you. It’s a very vivid and traumatic experience to go through. Unfortunately, we’re in a bit of a bind currently seeing as you are either an unregistered quirk user, or you have no proof that you’re in this country legally. Now if it’s true that you’re eighteen, we can’t let you leave without contacting the US embassy to get your identification.”

Any color left in the teen’s face vanished. “What if...what if they can’t identify me?”

“Can’t identify you? For what reason?”

The teen stood suddenly and walked over to the wall. His hands trembled, and he looked downright terrified.

Who was he scared of?

He picked at the ragged hem of his shirt. “I don’t—I’m not exactly…they—they just don’t know I exist.”

Shouta glanced at Suzuki, who seemed perplexed.

“Is he telling the truth?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Suzuki said. “I don’t know how it’s possible, but he at least believes that he doesn’t have citizenship in Japan or the United States.”

“Even though he’s American.”

“Exactly.”

Aizawa’s brows furrowed, and he looked back at the teen, who was pressed up against the wall wringing his wrists with his fingers.

“Can you give me your name?” Detective Tsukauchi asked.

The teen bit his lip. “Uh it’s—it’s…” His voice was strangled. “It’s Danny Fenton.”

“He’s telling the truth.”

Detective Tsukauchi gave him a comforting smile. “Okay, Danny. And do you know where you were born?”

“Uh…The United States.”

“But, and correct me if I’m wrong, you have no birth certificate? And no documentation to show legal entry to Japan?”

“I—yeah.”

“And you’re here in Japan now. Where have you been staying exactly?”

Danny’s eyes darted around the room. “I don’t know...around?”

“Okay,” Detective Tsukauchi shut his manila folder and stood. “Again, you’re not in trouble. You were a victim of a very serious crime, and we’re here to help you. I’m going to make a quick call, and I’ll be right back. The door’s unlocked if you need anything.”

If anything, that only made Danny look more anxious than before. He nodded, his face sheet white, and he tugged at the inhibitors on his wrists.

“What’s gonna happen to him?” Yamada asked quietly. He was dressed in his civilian clothes, and his hair was thrown up into a messy low bun. Without his uniform, his compassion towards the child shined out like a beacon.

It was one of the many qualities that Shouta loved about him. His strong sense to protect the innocent, his caring nature to kids and those who were vulnerable in society, and the kindness he radiating from his being were qualities that were rare even among heroes.

“We’ll contact the US embassy, but if the boy’s telling the truth and he doesn’t have a social security number or birth certificate, then he’ll get picked up by Musutafu’s social services and he’ll be put into the system.”

Yamada stared sadly at the child through the mirror. “He’ll just run away again.”

“He will,” Shouta agreed.

“I wish we could help him.”

Shouta sighed. “We can’t save everyone.”

“But you see it, don’t you?” Yamada asked. “There’s something going on that the kid’s not telling us. How else could he have gotten multiple quirks? Do you think it has anything to do with the League?”

Shouta glanced back at Danny, who was currently crouched against the wall with his head in his hands. He looked so small, so fragile. Aizawa could only wonder what events had led him here.

Just who was Danny Fenton?

“Shouta, we can’t let him out on his own. We just can’t.”

Shouta sighed, running his thumb along the side of his coffee cup. “I know,” he said.

And he meant it.

---

“So…” Shouta started.

Danny just looked tired.

It had been a long night. Detective Tsukauchi got a hold of the US embassy’s emergency line, but they didn’t have any records of a Danny Fenton that had left the United States, nor did they have a single missing children’s report of a Danny Fenton, nor could they supposedly dig up any information of a Danny Fenton based on the information that Danny himself supplied, specifically that he was born in Illinois in a city called Amity Park.

It was as if he didn’t exist.

Detective Suzuki’s quirk was powerful, and it didn’t seem like Danny was able to fool it. After he met her and she explained her quirk to him, he finally admitted he was only fifteen. So then who was this kid? If he was from Amity Park, why did the United States have no record of him?

The heroes knew he had parents, but apparently—and Suzuki confirmed this—they’d disowned him, giving him to some shady organization. Danny wouldn’t say to who ended up with custody of him, but from what they’d been able to piece together, it hadn’t been good.

And any further digging just resulted in Danny clamming up.

So Danny was a runaway, one that apparently didn’t exist in either country he had lived in. And there was something out there that had terrified him into escaping to Musutafu and hiding here.

But he wouldn’t say what.

Regardless, the Musutafu police department now had a case of a minor in Japan who didn’t have any parents, guardians, or any known relatives in the country, nor did he have any record of housing at any point.

It was as if this kid were a ghost or something.

“What’s gonna happen to me?” Danny asked, hugging himself in his chair.

He seemed smaller up close. Too small.

“Well, social services will take you and place you in foster care,” Shouta responded.

“Oh…” Danny looked down. “You know...you’ve seen my powers. I’ll just disappear the moment we leave this building.”

Shouta raised his brows.

Of course, they all knew it. But the kid certainly had guts for admitting it out loud.

“Who are you running from?” Shouta asked.

Danny blinked at his bluntness. “No one.”

Shouta leaned in. “Is it the League of Villains? Are you connected with them?”

Danny’s arms shot out from his sides, waving frantically in front of his face. “No! No, I swear! I’m not a villain!”

“I didn’t say that.”

“I…” Danny looked lost.

“You have multiple quirks. That’s something the league’s been experimenting with. And they’re not shy about using real people to do so.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what to say. I’ve never met them.”

“But you weren’t born with multiple quirks,” Shouta said. “Something happened that made you this way.”

He could see as all the pieces slowly crumbled inside Danny. The kid went from looking confused, to downright terrified.

Bingo.

Aizawa’s instincts never failed him.

“Please, just let me go,” Danny begged. “I promise I won’t do anything. Please don’t hurt me.”

Shouta’s eyes widened. “Kid, slow down. I’m not here to hurt you. Okay? I’m on your side.”

That didn’t seem to help Danny at all.

Shouta set his arms on the table where Danny could see them. “You know, one of my foster kids has multiple quirks.” It was a half lie, but he didn’t think that Shouto would mind.

Sure enough, that seemed to pique Danny’s interests. “Really?”

“Yeah. Great kid, about your age. His father was experimenting with creating children who could house multiple quirks to offset his own quirk’s disadvantages, and my foster son came out of it. Just like you, he spent a lot of his life hiding too. He was alone, and scared. He didn’t know what to do or who he could trust, so he just hid.”

“What changed?” Danny asked.

“He asked for help,” Shouta said. “And we were able to bring him into a stable home.”

Danny’s eyes clouded over, and his face transformed into one of longing. As if he were visiting a memory that had long since abandoned him.

“We can get you that help too if you ask for it.”

“I...I can’t…”

Shouta sighed. “How long are you going to keep hiding? Running? Are you really okay with spending the rest of your life out on the streets?”

Danny ducked his head down. “It’s not so bad,” he muttered.

“But kid, you deserve so much more than that.”

The teen’s shoulders shuddered. He sniffed, and his hand shot up to wipe his eye.

Shouta refused to look away from him. “I don’t know how you got here, I have no idea what you’ve been through, but I know that you didn’t deserve it, and that regardless of what you think, you deserve a safe place to go home to.”

“I...I…” he croaked, curling into himself. Tears splashed onto his cheeks.

“You’re strong, you’ve done so much alone. Now we can help you.”

“I can’t…”

“You can, Danny.”

At that, Danny broke. He squeezed his eyes shut, twisting his hoodie in his hands. Shouta watched as he tried to muffle his sobs, but he couldn’t. His body shook as his emotions poured into the open.

Shouta didn’t know how long this kid had been holding it all in. Just how many days, weeks, months had he been shoving everything down, too focused on surviving each day to be able to stop and feel?

Pain stabbed Shouta’s heart. He remembered that torment all too well, one of homelessness, of abuse, of not knowing where his next meal was coming from and fighting for the bare necessities. Although he wasn’t so much of a soft, touchy-feely guy himself, right now he wanted nothing more than to reach over and hug the crying teen.

When it seemed like Danny was finally able to pull himself together, Shouta leaned in and asked, “Will you let me help you, Danny?”

Danny scrubbed at his eyes and nodded.

“If you want,” he said, making sure to articulate each word clearly. “I can assist you in getting placed in a good home. There’s another option too.”

“Yeah?”

“The other option is you can stay with me.”

Danny stilled, his eyes shooting open and his lips dropping to form a small ‘o’.

“My husband and I have a city approved foster home, and we also happen to have an open bed at the moment. Given your unique situation, I have the option of housing you if you’ll let me.”

Danny didn’t respond. He just continued to stare at Shouta in shock.

“Of course,” Shouta said quickly. “If you are uncomfortable with that, and it’s okay if you are, there are other good foster homes out there that I personally know and can get you placed in. It’s whatever you prefer.”

The teen closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he finally looked back at Shouta, he had that same longing expression as before. “If it’s alright...could I stay with you? At least for a little while?”

The corners of his lips tugged up. He remembered all too well when Yamada turned to him just before Shouta was about to age out of the foster system and asked him if he wanted to move in together. He remembered the shock, the surprise that anyone could possibly care that much about him, that anyone would want to live with him.

And now, he had a family. One that was about to become a little bigger.

“Of course. I’d love to have you.”

---

Thanks for reading!

[check out some of my other fics]

#danny phantom #dannymay2021 #bnha #my hero academia #my writing #aka danny has A Bad Time #but it's ok because dadzawa

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thelukesalvez · 3 years

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Luke Alvez x Reader: Bruises

Request: @whormotional asked: “hi i have recently become obsessed with your writing! youre like the best luke writing on this app i swear. could you do one where the female reader gets kidnapped on a case and tortured and just like luke and the team saving her and luke being there for her later that night pls”

Word count: 5.4k

Tagged: @ssaic-jareau , @alvezstan , @lcvischmitt , @ogmilkis , @goldenalvez , @ssa-morgan , @akimagies, @zhangyixingxing1 , @pinkdiamond1016 , @yourwonderbelle, @rachelxwayne , @sc4rletw1tch , @ellvswriting

Warnings: Kidnapping, torture, gun tw, blood mention

A/N: love angsty requests thank youuu. hope youu enjoy!!

You wake up to the taste of blood in your mouth. Your breath was ragged and shallow as you shook yourself out of a deep sleep. It was the first sense you were able to regain, but before you could force your eyes open, you felt the pulsing pain coming from the back of your head. It shot down your neck and around to the front of your forehead, making you wince.

Images from the dream you had been having were still clear in your mind. You had dreamt of Luke. Maybe you dreamt about him because he occupied most of your thoughts, or maybe it was because his face had been the last thing you saw before blacking out. You remembered seeing his brown eyes- usually warm and inviting, turn wide with worry as they didn’t quite meet your gaze. It was like he was staring at something behind you.

You saw him raise his gun and aim it slightly to your left. You had been just about to ask him what was wrong before he opened his mouth to warn you. His words were inaudible, though, as the blow that suddenly hit the back of your head had ensnared all of your senses. The look on his face was what lingered in your mind now. You tried desperately to memorize all of his features- the lines around his eyes and the way his hairline curved around his face. You squeezed your eyes shut even harder, thinking of his tan skin and stubble beard. You really didn’t want to open your eyes, because you knew that wherever you were and whatever had happened to you, wasn’t good.

…

When Luke comes to, he’s propped up against a cold wall and there are voices around him. A headache was pulsing behind his eyes as he finally cracked his eyelids, eyelashes fluttering on his first few attempts.

The blurry faces of Emily and Tara slowly start to come into focus as he wakes up. He sees Tara sigh a breath of relief when her gaze meets his own.

“Thank God,” she exhales quietly.

Blood. There was blood running down his head. And there was a bloodstained brick lying close to him.

“Luke,” Emily’s voice is louder. “What happened?”

“He came out of nowhere-” Luke states, he raises his hand to find the spot on his forehead that throbbed. When Luke pulls away, there’s blood on his fingers. Suddenly, images of the incident reentered his mind. “I tried to shoot- but I didn’t want to hit her-”

“Where is Y/N?” Emily asks calmly.

Just the mere mention of your name makes Luke sit up straighter. The sudden movement makes his head wobbly, but he ignores it.

“Woah, take it easy,” Emily instructs. She puts her hand out to steady him.

Luke falls back against the wall. “She’s not here?” he asks, panic and fear flooding his insides.

Instead of a yes or a no, Emily states, “We’ll find her.”

...

When you do finally open your eyes, you find that you're sitting in the corner of a dingy room, arms and legs bound to the worn chair. The room reminded you of a basement, concrete walls with pipes and ducts running along the ceiling between the hanging lightbulbs that were much too bright without covers.

You blink your eyes a few times, trying to make everything stop blurring together, but it seems impossible.

You gasp, chest constructing at the sharp pain suddenly shooting up your left side. You breathe through your nose, trying to will down the panic and fear that’s engulfed you. Each breath pulled in the strong presence of mold and mildew, making you want to gag.

There’s a man in the corner of the room fiddling with something. His back was turned to you until he realized you were conscious again. He begins approaching slowly. You recognize his wild hair and narrow eyes almost instantly.

From the information Garcia had gathered online earlier, the man’s name was Greg Atwood. And he was your Unsub.

You and the rest of the team had been called to Seattle over a week ago- after the third body showed up. Once Seattle PD made the connection between the victims, it was clear their problem was severe enough for reinforcements. You had worked the case just like any other- analyzing victimology, creating a geographic profile, combing the crime scenes. It became glaringly obvious that you were dealing with a professional, someone who killed efficiently and knew how to clean up their mess. And when Emily sent you and Luke to interview the witness who found the latest body, neither one of you had any idea you were about to walk into the arms of the apparent killer himself. But the profile the team had established, fit.

When Atwood opens his mouth to speak, his evil smile makes you cringe. “You’re awake,” is all he states. His voice is filled with venom.

You jerk, thrashing against the restraints that bind you. The man steps forward, his finger trailing along the barrel of his gun. He smiles confidently, but it’s his eyes that burn into your brain.

“What do you want from me?” you ask. You knew all too well how these interactions went, but you were desperate to stall.

The man looks at you for a long moment before inhaling deeply. But he doesn’t speak.

You blink again, trying to rack your brain and remember the profile. What would buy you some time?

You dig your teeth into the inside of your cheek- a habit Luke had always given you shit for. You briefly wonder if you’d ever get to hear him lecture you about it again.

You tug at the restraints again, testing it. But there’s no give.

“What do you want?” you try again.

Atwood takes another step closer, creepy smile still in place. “I want to know how you found me,” he says simply.

You bite your lip. He takes your hesitation as an invitation to talk more. “You see,” his voice trails. “I was very careful. I cleaned up my mess, I didn’t leave behind a single trace of DNA.”

“We didn’t find you with DNA, we found you with our profile.” He didn’t need to know you and Luke had originally thought he was a witness.

His smirk returns. “Right,” he says, like he doesn’t quite believe it. He turns his back to you and walks back towards the corner of the room he originally came from. He hoists something up, you can’t quite tell what it is until he turns around with it in his hands. It’s a tripod, and attached at the top is a camera.

Your chest feels tight again- you didn’t like where any of this was going.

The tripod is placed about six feet in front of you. Atwood adjusts the angle a bit before pressing a button. A light flashes red before he turns to look at you again. His smile has faded.

“Tell me where she is,” he orders.

Your eyes widen, but you don’t speak.

He waits, only a moment, before saying it again. “Tell me where I can find Emily Prentiss.”

You clench your jaw.

“I know you know where she is. She is your Unit Chief after all, isn’t she?”

You ignore his question. “Is my team seeing this?” you ask, nodding your head towards the camera.

His silence makes you assume that’s a yes. “You know- we profiled that you’d be extremely intelligent,” you say. “But if you think I’d rat out my Chief or anyone on my team, we must’ve gotten that part wrong.”

Your response gets you backhanded- hard across the face. Your head whips back, but you try to shake it off quickly.

You taste copper in your mouth again as you raise your head up. Your hair has fallen in your face, but you don’t make any effort to move it.

Atwood is looking at you, expression calculating. “If you want to get out of here alive,” he says, “you’re going to tell me where she is. It's up to you how hard you want to make this on yourself.” When you stay silent, he continues. “You see, it’s not you I really want. I don’t want to kill you. Just like I didn’t want to kill the agent you were with. You’re collateral damage to me, it means nothing.”

His words make you freeze in place.

Just like I didn’t want to kill the agent you were with.

The sentence seeps into your skin like poison.

Luke.

Your face is blank and your mind can’t process the entirety of what he’s said, before he proceeds.

“You see, it’s Prentiss I want. Tell me where she is and this will all be over.”

“You killed-” your voice is shaky as you try to comprehend the words Atwood has just spoken to you. “Y-you killed him?”

His smirk brings bile up in your throat.

He was lying, you say to yourself. Luke was fine, he was lying. “No,” you whisper, your eyes burning with unshed tears. “No-”

Atwood sighs, pretending to be sympathetic. “Like I said- I didn’t want to do it. But he got in my way. Just like you’re getting in my way right now.”

His words are muffled in your own head as your mind races to make sense of it all. Luke- Luke was your purpose and your happiness and your reason. Luke was everything.

“Tell me where she is.” Atwood presses.

If he was telling the truth, and Luke really was dead- then what did it matter if you died too? “Go fuck yourself,” you spit, trying not to show him the brokenness he’d just caused.

Atwood sighs, “I was hoping we could do this the easy way.”

He approaches you, rolling up his sleeve as he walks. You noticed a brass ring on his finger.

You wonder what the rest of the team was thinking and if they could even see you right now. You knew that they’d be looking for you, no matter what. They’d probably even encourage you to give up Emily’s information- even though none of them would. But it probably didn’t make whatever was about to happen to you easier for them to watch.

“This doesn’t end until you tell me where she is,” Atwood sneers. It’s his final warning. You look straight at the camera and try to broadcast a message to the team. In case they were watching, you wanted them to know you could handle this. You offer the slightest smile, one they’d probably only catch if they rewound the tape, you’re reassuring them that you’d be fine.

…

When the video stream first comes through, it makes Penelope gasp. She was sleep deprived after being transported to Seattle. Her job was to comb through the Unsub’s computer, and to hopefully find a hint as to where he might have taken you.

At first, she’s surprised, and disturbed by the distressed looking girl tied to the chair. Penelope has seen her fair share of gruesome images and videos in her days with the Bureau, but she never could seem to get used to it.

But when the girl lifts her head and reveals a face Penelope recognizes immediately, she’s horrified. Your eyes are tired, and every breath looks ragged.

“Emily!” she calls out, “Guys!”

Just then, a man comes into the frame, his voice is muffled and quiet. Before Penelope can turn the volume up to hear what he’s said, he raises his hand and strikes you across the face.

“No!” Penelope cries, squeezing her eyes shut. Only when she feels a warm hand fall on her shoulder does she dare to open them.

It’s Emily, and in her trail is JJ and Rossi.

“What’s going on?” Emily asks, concerned.

“It’s Y/N-” Garcia has tears running down her face.

“Oh my God,” JJ breathes, she covers her mouth with her hands.

“She’s hurt,” Garcia whimpers.

Emily inhales sharply.

“Is this live? Can you trace it?” Rossi asks, leaning in.

Garcia nods, the rapid clicks of her keyboard answering for her.

“Where’s Luke?” JJ asks, turning her head. “He can’t see this-”

“See what?” Luke’s voice rings through the room, making everyone turn their heads. He’s standing in the doorframe with an ice pack held firmly to his head. After being attacked, he’d refused to go to the hospital. Not until you were home safe, he had said. No one tried to argue it.

They stand speechless, unsure of what to say to Luke.

“See what?” he repeats. But that’s when he sees the screen.

“Who is that?” he asks, voice cracking. He leans so that he can see past Garcia. The panic on his face told them that he already knew.

“We’re going to find her,” Emily says calmly, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Suddenly, there’s a man’s voice speaking from the video. It’s Atwood.

“All I need is a location,” he says calmly. “Tell me where I can find Emily Prentiss.”

Everyone in the room inhales sharply. Luke grits his teeth as he sees you pick up your head. Your face looks scared. “I don’t know,” you say weakly.

Atwood sighs. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

With that, Garcia cries out again as he sucker punches you in the jaw. Just as you’re wincing from the first impact, you take another hit, a punch to the gut that leaves you heaving and breathless.

Luke is wild, gritting his teeth. “I’m gonna bash this guy’s head in myself,” he roars, turning away.

Just then, the rest of the team filters in the room. “What’s going on?” Reid asks. He’s holding an evidence bag in his gloved hands.

“The motherfucker’s recording it- he’s live streaming it,” Luke exclaims. He’s gripping his hair frantically.

“Anything, Garcia?” Rossi asks.

Her typing has become more frantic as she desperately tries to secure a location.

The assault against you continues, hit after hit, mostly centered on your left side. It’s clear that you were doing your best to zone out.

Luke has started watching again, despite Matt trying to pull him away.

You keep your mouth shut, even when your side aches so bad you think he’s broken one of your ribs. When Atwood finally stops hitting you, your face is hot and bruised and bloody.

It makes Luke want to be sick.

Just then, a pinging noise comes from Garcia’s computer and the room goes dead silent.

After a moment, she turns to Emily questioningly. “I have an address,” she states.

“What’s wrong?” Tara asks, picking up on the confusion in her tone.

“What’re we waiting for?” Luke roars. “Let’s go-”

“It just feels- wrong,” Garcia says, unable to put her finger on it. “Why would an Unsub as intelligent as him not block his streaming location?”

“Do you think it’s a trap?”

Garcia shakes her head. “I don’t know-”

“That’s a risk we’re going to have to take,” Emily says. She turns to the rest of the team. “Let’s go.”

“Be safe,” Garcia whimpers.

…

You barely feel alive anymore. You had your eyes closed, and were resting your head against the back of the chair when you tried to imagine yourself back in your apartment with Luke. You imagined being snuggled into him on the couch as you watched some cheesy, romantic movie. You had given up struggling- your restraints were too tight, it was no use. You tried to count how much time it had been since you’d been here. But the truth was, you had no idea how long you’d been out for. Hours? Days?

You were wondering if the team was still looking for you when you hear a distant thump coming from upstairs.

The thing was- you knew this wasn’t just about Emily’s location. It wasn’t even about your team’s location. It was about beating you- the power involved in outsmarting the FBI.

You kept your eyes closed, taking deep breaths and trying as best as you could to get your body to stop shivering. You were bruised and bloody and dehydrated.

You hadn’t opened your eyes in a while now. And even though you couldn’t sleep, you didn’t want to open them because you didn’t want Atwood to know you were awake.

You wished your mind would quiet down, but of course it wouldn't. You had nothing to do here besides think. You think about the last words you said to Luke, and you think of how meaningless and insignificant they were. You try to remember when the last time you told him you loved him was. You think about if you even wanted to get out of here alive if there was no Luke to go home to.

In the midst of your thoughts, you gasp loudly when the only door leading out of the room blows off the hinges. Dust fills the air and you flinch at the feeling of your neck suddenly being barred by a strong arm.

Atwood.

“Drop it!” Emily’s familiar voice fills the room.

You sigh a breath of relief, despite knowing there was a gun pressed directly against your temple.

“You’re not getting out of here,” Rossi’s voice says. “So you might as well put the gun down now.” When the dust finally settles, you see him filing to the left corner of the room, his gun drawn. Matt has already situated himself in the right corner.

Atwood chuckles from behind you, his grip tightening.

“What makes you think that?” he sneers.

“Look around you, man-” Matt says. “We’ve got you cornered.”

Atwood shoves the barrel of the gun harshly against your temple, making your head spin.

“I like my odds.”

His eyes flicker to the clock on the wall- a motion that Rossi picks up on immediately.

“What’re you waiting for Greg?” There’s a taunting tone to his voice. “For three o’clock?”

Atwood’s head shoots up. That hit a nerve.

“We know what your plan was, Greg,” Emily says. “We found the bomb.”

For a brief moment, you feel the gun being dropped from your temple. Just as quickly, the sound of a single gunshot makes you flinch. Atwood drops to the floor behind you, collapsing in a pool of his own blood.

It was Matt who took the shot- taking advantage of the brief moment of hesitation that Atwood demonstrated. You turn to him, trying to express your gratitude, but your head is spinning.

“You’re okay,” Emily states. It sounds like she’s trying more to convince herself of that fact.

You nod without even realizing it.

Matt’s the first one at your side. He’s frantically ripping away the ropes from your wrist. There’s ligature marks already visible on your skin.

Cops and EMTs start rushing through the room just as Emily speaks into her mic that it’s clear.

You try to stand up, but the world around you spins immediately, tilting on its axis. You almost black out in just about half a second.

“Woah-” Emily says.

Matt catches you before you fall to the floor.

You struggle to look around the room, but everything is too bright and people are moving too fast. It’s impossible to tell who’s here and who’s not.

“L-Luke?” You hesitate because you almost don’t want to know.

Matt gives you a soft smile, pausing when you’re finally free from your restraints. “He’s okay, he’s outside.”

You blink a few times, not sure if you heard him right. “He’s alive?” you lock eyes with Matt.

Matt nods, his face sincere.

“But he’s hurt- Atwood said-”

“Hey,” Matt whispers, tightening his grip around your waist. “He’s okay, I’ll take you to him.”

You let out a sigh of relief, but it could double as a soft sob. There are tears falling down your cheeks.

With Matt bearing the majority of your weight, you let him lead you out of the building. The glaring, afternoon sun makes it hard to see once you get outside, but you trust Matt’s guidance.

After only a few steps, you hear your name being called.

It’s so hard to focus, and you can feel your vision blurring in and out- but you’d know that voice anywhere.

“Luke-” you whisper tentatively, because you still weren’t entirely sure that the voice wasn’t a hallucination.

But then you hear it again. This time it’s clearer and closer.

You blink a few more times, the brightness fading as you strain to see.

Slowly, Luke’s figure comes into focus. He’s rushing towards you, and you realize that’s the first time since being taken that you feel like you could breathe again.

“Oh my God-” Luke stammers. Once he reaches you, he hesitates, like he’s too afraid to touch you. You were sure nothing about you looked even remotely beautiful right now. Between the bruises on your face and your tear-stained cheeks, you can only imagine the type of image Luke was taking in. “Are you okay?” he asks, he grasps your upper arms gently.

You ignore his question and throw your arms around him, letting your cheek rest against his chest. He wraps his arms around you, one hand falling on your upper back, while the other cradles the back of your head. He kisses your hair firmly before pulling away. He holds you at an arm’s length and scans your body.

He takes in the sight of you. There’s bruising along your jawline, red swirled with blues and purples from broken blood vessels. It makes his stomach lurch to know you’d been hurt like this- that he couldn’t stop you from being hurt like this.

There’s blood caked into the side of your hair- crusty and turning dark crimson. Luke runs his thumb along the length of it.

Suddenly, he sees you frown. After blinking a few more times, his face has finally come into focus, which allows you to see the cut visible on his forehead. “Your head-” you observe.

Luke starts protesting immediately. “I’m fine, I’m okay.” His small cut was nothing compared to the bruises that inevitably littered your body.

Your head spins again, making you sway in place. Luke’s quick to wrap an arm around you and you fall into his side with ease, wincing when his hand falls on your bruised side.

The EMTs are already on the street, ready to throw you into the back of an ambulance.

You try to protest, assuring Luke and everyone else that you were fine. But Luke insists. “You need to be checked out. You’re not fine.”

It feels like forever before the hospital clears you. You have a concussion and a couple broken ribs, nothing that won’t heal on its own. You’re grateful to not be more severely injured. But you’re also just exhausted and sore and ready to go home.

Luke barely let’s go of your hand, let alone leaves your side for the next twenty four hours. It’s comforting having him beside you, but you don’t like seeing him so worried.

Once you’re discharged from the hospital, Luke and you head straight to the jet, where the rest of the team is waiting.

Everyone wants to know how you’re feeling- how you’re holding up. But talking about it made you think about it, and you really didn’t want to think about it.

The plane ride home feels agonizingly long. Every time the jet jostles or has turbulence, you wince. And every time you wince, everyone rushes to your side to make sure you’re alright.

“Can I get you anything?” Tara asks. She had just stood up to refill her own cup of tea.

You shake your head, offering her your most convincing smile. “No thanks, I’m fine.”

“Blanket?” Reid offers.

“Ice pack?”

“Want to talk about it?”

“Coffee?”

“Vodka?”

You decline.

You sprawl out on the couch with your head resting in Luke’s lap and feign sleep just to avoid their fretting. It makes you feel guilty to know you had them all so worried.

His hands are in your hair, stroking the strands softly.

“Luke, m’tired,” you whisper quietly enough so that only he hears.

“I know,” Luke answers. “We’re almost home.”

You lose track of the rest of the plane ride to your scattered brain, only picking up on small details: the murmur of Rossi and Emily talking beside you, the roughness of Luke’s jeans against your bruised cheek, the way your legs have to be slightly bent in order to fit on the couch. Time passes in a disorienting lurch.

It is an eternity before you land in Virginia.

And it’s an even longer eternity before you’re pulling into the driveway of you and Luke’s shared house.

He tries to help you walk up to the door but you wave him away. “I got it, I’m fine.”

You add a small smile when you see the hurt look on his face.

“Bed or couch?” he asks while rushing to collect his keys out of his pocket.

“Couch,” you murmur. Your choice was based solely on the fact that the couch was significantly closer to you than the bed. It also didn’t involved a flight of stairs.

Luke drops your bags by the entryway before guiding you to the living room. His hand hovers wearily on your lower back- like he’s afraid you’ll collapse at any moment.

You exhale choppily when you’re finally able to sit down on the couch. It’s worn, familiar fabric makes you feel safer. Your eyes are heavy and your head wants to lull forward. It’s hard to focus.

Luke pulls the throw blanket down from the back of the couch and lays it gently on top of you. It’s warmth brings comfort and ease.

Luke kisses your forehead gently.

“I’m gonna go grab some water,” he tells you.

You just mumble incoherently in response.

You quickly succumb to the exhaustion- letting your eyes fall shut. But as soon as you let them close, his face appears. It’s right in front of you, so close that if you reached out you could touch him. Atwood is flashing his teeth with his signature evil grin, their tint of yellow and crookedness felt way too detailed to be a dream. You wonder if you’re back in the basement- if you never really left in the first place. Maybe being rescued was the dream.

A soft clinking sound makes you shoot up from the couch, alert and panting while you frantically look around the room.

Luke is setting a glass of water on the coffee table in front of you, but your startled response makes him whip his head towards you.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, face full of worry.

As soon as you see him, you realize that you’re home and safe. You try to calm yourself down, embarrassed by your reaction.

You take a deep breath. “Nothing,” you mumble, shaking it off. “I’m fine.”

You both knew it was a lie.

But Luke doesn’t argue- he doesn’t push. He just settled down beside you on the couch, his arm wrapping around your shoulders carefully.

You wait for a minute, steadying your breathing, before attempting to close your eyes again. At first, it’s just the back of your eyelids and their darkness. You stay focused on that and your breathing.

As you finally start to relax, you start to feel a strange pressure against your wrists. You jostle your arms, but for some reason they won’t move. You’re stuck in place- restrained to the chair again.

Suddenly, you feel Atwood’s fist against your jaw- his ring tearing open the flesh of your cheek. His snickering is loud in your ears.

You snap your eyes open again- you’re met by your dimly lit living room.

Luke’s thumb is trailing up and down your arm comfortingly. You were safe- these images you were seeing weren’t real.

The third time you close your eyes- you see him almost instantly. This time he’s close enough so that you can feel his hot breath on your neck.

You shoot up quickly, panting heavily. Your face collapses in your hands as you try to rub the images from your eyes.

It was real. It was very real, and you had the markings and bruises to prove it.

This- laying on your own couch, finally getting to sleep- was what you’d been waiting for. But now that your adrenaline had faded and some of the grogginess from your concussion had subsided, you couldn’t shut your eyes without hearing him, seeing him, feeling him- all over.

Luke sits up too, attentive to your uneasiness.

“I c-can’t-” your voice is shaky. “I can’t close my eyes,” you explain.

Luke’s large hand rubs your back soothingly.

“I can’t close my eyes without seeing him.”

Luke nods, his hand travels from your back to your arm, he grips it securely before leaning in and pressing his lips to your temple. You lean into his touch, letting him pull you closer to him. He falls back against the couch, and you fall against his chest, practically on top of him at this point.

“You're safe now,” he soothes.

“I’m so tired,” you whisper, exhaustion making you start to tear up.

“I know,” Luke murmurs. His fingers trail up and down your arm, leaving a path of goosebumps in their wake.

It doesn’t take long of Luke holding you like that for you to fall asleep. At first, it’s nothingness- just a deep, peaceful slumber. Until it isn’t.

This time you don’t see Atwood. Instead, you see someone curled up on the ground. As you step closer, you realize it’s Luke. You call out to him, but there’s no response.

When he doesn’t answer, you reach your hand out, fingers grazing his bicep. His skin feels ice cold. You shake him lightly- but there’s no response. Harder this time, you pull his weight towards you, hoping to get his attention. Instead, Luke’s lifeless body flops onto his back. His eyes are still open, lifelessly baring into your own. His mouth is parted slightly but there’s no air coming in or out of it. That’s when you see the blood dripping down his face and pooled beneath his hair.

You wake up screaming.

“Hey-” Luke’s spinning and sitting up to position himself in front of you. He cups your face between his hands. “Hey, hey- you’re okay. You’re safe, I got you.”

But you shake your head. “It wasn’t me-”

Luke’s brown eyes narrow slightly, like he’s trying to understand.

“It was you,” you say, voice fading into a sob. “He t-told me that he k-” you swallow the lump in your throat, but it does little to make you stop crying. “He told me that he killed you. He told me you were dead.”

Just saying it outloud makes you erupt into a puddle of tears. You’re so distraught that you barely notice Luke pulling you into his lap on the couch.

He’s murmuring soothing words into your ear, but continues letting you cry into his chest. The numbness from earlier had completely worn off, and while you were scared and hurt- it felt good to feel something other than exhaustion.

You’re not sure how long you stay like that- curled into Luke’s chest sobbing into his cotton t-shirt. At some point, Luke had used his free hand to reach for the remote. He put your favorite show on the television. You’d seen every episode several times, but Luke knew it brought you comfort.

Your eyes were red rimmed and puffy and you sniffled weakly. “I’m sorry I’m keeping you from sleeping,” you whispered, when you were confident you wouldn’t burst into tears again.

Luke tightened his grip around you. “It’s okay,” he assures you. “We’re both concussed, and I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to sleep while you’re concussed, anyway.”

You smile.

Luke linked your hands together, looking down at you and giving you a soft smile. “I love you.” He whispered, lips pressing against the top of your head.

“I love you too.” you replied quietly.

Things were a mess. And you were sad and scared and it would probably take a lot of sleepless nights and painful sobs for you to get through this. Luke would be there to dry your tears though, just like he always was. And Luke would probably have to try harder to keep you feeling safe and eventually, you were going to have to talk about what happened.

But right now, wrapped in each other's arms on your shared couch, all you needed was each other.

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hajimeiwaswife · 3 years

Text

THE WAY I LOVED YOU

Word count: 4,2K

Wanings: angst (but fluff, too)

Summary: You weren't over the love Childe provided you, even when you were engaged to Albedo years later.

A blue, pink and mauve sky garnished the surroundings of the Stormbearer Mountains. The summery breeze, warm as the light of the bright sun, comforted those who walked along the path of fallen leaves, wild flowers and the smell of mint. A beautiful landscape presented itself for sore eyes to see.

A certain Alchemist was working on his new masterpiece, relaxing under the few rays of light that came with dusk, painting the one he considered the most beautiful person to ever put a foot on Teyvat. Mixing the colours of nature, he portraited on the sketch book the view he had of his fiancée and the scenery, all of it worthy of a cheesy romance novel and a fantasy book.

"How much time do you need?" Y/N asked in a tired tone, trying not to shift her position, "I'm getting crumps on my face from smiling."

The man didn't answer at the moment, considering for a brief time her question and filling a space on the page that still needed his attention. At last, he looked at her and smiled at the image he had the honour of witnessing. The girl, dressed in a summer white and blue dress, was slightly pouting at the lack of talking from his part. Her hair danced with the wind and he thanked Barbatos for letting him see her golden locks fly around her face.

"Just a little more, my love," he answered, his attention shifting back to the drawing in front of him.

"You said that an hour ago," the girl sighed, putting a smile again on her face so she didn't disrupt her lover from painting her, "I thought you wanted to go see Sucrose before the sun came down. Oh! And also, you promised Klee you'd visit her."

He hummed, immersed in the way her features took a hardened expression when she tried to remember something that needed to be done. Brows furrowed and fore finger on her right cheek, she looked at him in search of a comment from the Alchemist.

"Albedo! Are you listening to me?"

"You're so beautiful." mumbled the man, lost in her and the blush that was forming on her visage.

Shameless and, at the same time, honest and shy. That was Albedo, the one she was engaged to. Such an honourable and good man, someone who loved her as much as the Sea loved its waves, as much as the birds loved the Wind, as much as a Dwelling loved the warmth of the fire. He gave her his everything and from the bottom of his own person, and she was grateful for it.

"I'm sorry" he promptly said, coughing on his palm to hide the evident embarrassment he felt, "It wasn't my intention to make you uncomfortable."

At that, she couldn't help but laugh. He was such a beautiful person, always searching her comfort and well-being before anyone else's, always taking care of her and looking for her. A pure soul, she would venture to affirm.

"Don't be silly, sweetheart," Y/N chuckled, positioning once again for him to portray her, "you know I love it when you compliment me. Now, c'mon, finish before the sun falls."

"As you wish."

One more hour of dirtying their hands in paint and observing the marvellous dusk that came upon them, they left to visit Sucrose, who was willing to tell Albedo about her advances in the research they both were working on.

"That's impressive, Sucrose," Albedo praised the girl, reading the documents and correcting those things he found could be improved.

Y/N turned off the conversation, not really interested in the depths of the Alchemy. She respected what the husband to be and her friend did for a life and she couldn't be prouder, but that didn't mean she wanted to hear the endless conversations about properties a flower could have.

After saying goodbye to the little Alchemist, they both headed to say hello to little Klee, who was mad at them for coming so late, it was already her time for bed and, as she said, 'We can't go bomb fishing!', followed by a 'Do you not love Klee?' Reassuring the little bomb crazy kid was more draining than she could imagine, but she did it for Albedo, nonetheless.

The afternoon turned into the late hours of the night, lilac sky was now dark and adorned with stars. The Alchemist had intertwined his fingers with Y/N's, sighing in content, allowing himself to relax at the warmth of her hand and the serenity reigning in Mondstadt.

"Maybe we should head home, you seem exhausted," commented Albedo after watching his fiancée yawn for the third time in ten minutes.

"That would be great, actually." Y/N yawned again, gaining a quiet chuckle from the man next to her.

No one talked again, everything already said until the moment to bid goodnight when they laid in bed. Albedo, being the reserved man he was, kept himself in his side of the bed, not too confident to spoon his girl still.

The silence was only accompanied by Albedo's soft snores. Darkness decorated the walls of the room in the AM. The sense of being trapped growing inside Y/N as she thought of the implications of her new life. She was engaged to an incredible man, who told her how beautiful she was and how much he loved her every single day; who went with her on strolls and made her laugh; who could teach her more than she could ever imagine; who appreciated her as she was.

Still, she felt nothing. At all.

She liked Albedo, that was clear. Who wouldn't like Albedo? He was the perfect man. On more than one occasion, Y/N had Amber and Barbara drooling about how lucky she was to be with someone like him. She knew she was the luckiest girl in Teyvat, most women simped over Diluc or Albedo. But, at the same time, she only felt guilt for being with him without actually loving him.

Anxiety growing on her, she decided to stand up. She walked out of the room, being careful not to disrupt Albedo's sleep, and headed to the transport point, she needed to be away from any form of human activity, she felt like shouting and hitting the first thing she could see. Breathing becoming a very tedious task as she approached the device, opting to go to Mt. Aocang. If she was going to wake someone up, she preferred an Adeptus who wouldn't ask more than any nosy human.

The wind, colder than that afternoon, calmed her to the point her lungs could take the oxygen she had been trying to get for minutes. The orange leaves obscured by the night reminded her of the hair she used to love so much. The hair of that man she had once despised, then loved, and then lost.

He, who claimed to be brave enough to enter her heart, had been the one to take it and keep it even until those days. Y/N noticed how her breathing became irregular again, she was used to it, every time she thought about the Harbinger. That repulsive, irresponsible, dishonest, cunning, intelligent and breath-taking man she couldn't forget. How had she let it come so far?

Albedo gave her everything, yet her heart yearned Childe's love. How pathetic.

"Fuck you, Childe!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, not caring for the Adepti, not caring for those who could hear her cursing the Harbinger Tartaglia at 2 a.m. a Thursday night. "You ruined me, you motherfucker!"

So many fights, so many make outs, so much love making, so many nights under the stars trying to comprehend their feelings for the other. All of that for nothing. Like the bitter cold of Snezhnaya they froze, their hearts on their sleeves, light that came from the satellite above turned off.

"You know, sometimes I feel like you don't like me that much." she remembered him saying, his characteristic smirk on his face, "It's true we had our... abrasions, but girlie, c'mon, don't be so stiff."

She could clearly see in her mind how his hands came to her waist, grabbing her in a gentle but at the same time rough grip. A shivered down her spine, in the present and in the pass, and she was sure she would feel it in the future, too.

"How am I supposed to trust you, Harbinger?" she had said, crossing her arms after pulling away from him.

"Easy, trusting me."

And she did. She felt like a fool for allowing him to be so near, to had felt love from him, for loving him.

"Are you feeling okay? You look pale, my love," Albedo commented, a hand of his on the forehead of his lover, a worried expression on his face.

"Yes, Albedo, don't worry, I didn't sleep too well last night," Y/N reassured him, smiling slightly at her fiancé.

The Alchemist hummed, nodding to himself and returning to his work. The girl had returned to their room after a couple of hours in Mt. Aocang, praying for Albedo to not had noticed her absence. Apparently, he didn't. Had he noticed he would had already asked about it, or so she thought.

"I was thinking about visiting Liyue today, there are some materials there I need for my research," Albedo said after some minutes, looking at her, "I was wondering if you'd like to come."

Y/N's heart dropped. She had to say yes, how could she say no to Albedo? He wanted to spend time with her while still working, an effort she really appreciated. But, going to Liyue? What if he was there? Strolling those streets the two of them had travelled a thousand times.

But his gaze was still on her, waiting patiently for a reply. Doubtfully, she considered all her options: not going and upsetting Albedo; going and crossing him; going and being unable to continue due to the memories. No option was good, she had to choose between her fiancé's well-being and hers. 'He's made so any sacrifices for me'.

"I would love to, love."

Merchants selling, people buying, contracts being signed. That was Liyue in all its glory. Red, green and blue being the most recurrent colour themes on the walls, roofs and gardens, a gift to anyone who wanted to visit a paradise.

Albedo was buying some materials while Y/N stood next to him, not looking at anyone's face in case Childe decided to make one of his classic appearances. She grabbed Albedo's sleeve as a way to comfort herself, reassuring one time and one time again that she didn't have that much of bad luck to cross him in such a huge city.

She turned her head to look around at last, brave to see the stores and Liyue's people. Many of them knew who she was, having helped most of them at least in one occasion, great people with beautiful and peaceful lives. She had that now, at Albedo's side. But why did she feel like it wasn't what she wanted?

The red mask in one of the stalls froze her in her place, it looked identical to Childe's. She knew it wasn't his, of course, he was too involved in the Fatui and too wealthy to pledge his mask, but it made her remember him and one of the many memories she had with him in Liyue, again.

"Girlie, don't be like that" Childe exclaimed, smiling at her with bravado, "You don't have to feign you don't want that bracelet."

"I don't want it," repeated her for the third time, growing irritated.

"I have enough money to buy it for you, darling," the Harbinger insisted, taking her left hand in one of his and kissing her knuckles.

"How charming," she murmured ironically, rolling her eyes and pulling her hand out of his grasp.

"I know," he smirked, going after her, "and I also know how much you love when I act like a gentleman."

"How would you know that if you've never acted like one?" she snorted, watching his expression turn into an offended one.

"I'm a gentleman, you just can't appreciate my efforts to woo you," he replied with a pout.

"Aw, little Childe can't take a no for an answer," Y/N continued to tease him, smiling slightly at his spoiled brat's act.

"Very well, little lady, you're not having that bracelet," he stamped and turn away from her, walking without a real direction.

"Not that I wanted it!" she shouted at the distance.

Needless to say, she found the bracelet in her purse that night with a cheesy note that claimed 'To my favourite and stubborn traveller, with love, Childe'.

She still had it in her wrist, accompanying her wherever she went, reminding her of the stupid man that gifted it to her. Golden with Snezhnaya patterns, orange jewelry decorating the surface of the material. Albedo never said anything about it, never asked, and she was grateful for it, he knew to respect her space.

Her fiancé had just finished purchasing what he needed, looking at her with a loving gaze. She felt nothing, only appreciation, and she felt awful for not returning his feelings at their best, he deserved to be loved and spoiled. However, she missed him, she missed what they had.

The grey sky announced the storm that was coming, thunder and lightning appearing to give a performance of nature power. She had fought, walked, ran and danced in rain. She had danced, kissed and loved. But nothing of it with Albedo.

"Now a step to the left" instructed Childe, grabbing her waist with his left hand and her hand with his right one, "and now turn around... That's it! Perfect! You're a natural."

"Stop lying," she laughed, following what he was saying and dancing with him in a forgotten valley in some old ruins, "I can't dance for the love of Barbatos."

"I think you're really good, almost seductive," he purred, kissing her jaw and going down her neck, "seeing you move your hips like that just" an animalistic growl came from the back of his throat.

"Okay, calm down big guy, we're not fucking here."

The sound of thunder interrupted his reply, confusing them both for a moment. Suddenly, rain poured and soaked them wet. Y/N looked for somewhere they could go to shelter from the storm, but Childe just laughed and started making her dance again.

"What the hell are you doing, pee-brain!" she exclaimed, desperate.

"Dancing with you under the rain. Isn't it romantic?" he asked, smug as always.

"Romantic until we catch a hypothermia."

He didn't budge. Swaying them both with the dark landscape behind them, leaves flying around, wind aggressive. But nothing mattered as they looked at each other; love, affection and lust hidden in their souls, wanting nothing more than to indulge to the other and become one. How can anyone love this much? How can feelings root that deep? Childe was the only answer to those questions.

With nothing but a soft caress to her cheek, he smashed his lips on hers, kissing her while the rain accentuated the wet sounds. Everything with him was wild, but so addictive she couldn't help but coming undone, indulging to everything he asked silently from her. A kiss in the rain never felt so good.

"I'll be right back, I just need to drop this at Mingxing Jewelry," Albedo said, giving her a peck before leaving.

She stood there for a few moments, wondering what she could do white she waited for her lover. The rain was nearing Liyue Harbor, Albedo had told her he needed to do a couple of things more before going to the transport point to return home. She felt like throwing up, not a single spot in the city did not remind her of the love of her life, including their ugliest moments as a couple.

"How could you!?" Y/N screamed, feeling completely devastated and deceived.

"I had to! I'm sorry, okay?"

"No! It's not okay!" his indifference was breaking her heart, looking at him with disappointment, "Again! You did it again!"

"I was ordered to!" he shouted, his voice the same tone as hers, wrath in his eyes, "I have a job and you knew about it when you decided to fuck me!"

"What the hell, Childe!" she cried, "First of all, you nearly destroy Liyue! Again! Not only once but twice!" she was tired, everything was going down in front of her and she didn't want to watch it come to ruins, "And fuck you? You mean love you?"

"Love, sex, everything's the same, isn't it?" he replied, calmer and returning to his indifferent tone.

"W-what do you mean?" the fuming storm stopped to bring an eye of the hurricane, waiting patiently to unleash the tsunami over them.

"What you heard; I don't find a difference between the two concepts."

"You're lying," she murmured, unbelieving. How could he say that when an hour ago he was looking at her with so much love? Was it all an act? No, you can't feign feelings so deep.

"You're just too fool to see it, girlie," his smirk appeared, making her shake in fear, fear of losing what she cared about, "confusing terms and assuming things without asking."

"You're lying." she repeated, more to herself than for him to hear. He sighed, as if he was done with her.

"Think what you want. Now, there are people waiting for me. Until next time, girlie."

The shattering of her heart served up as the soundtrack of his departure. The leaves that had been once so vibrant and full of colour now danced around her in muted tones, mocking her. That was it, the end of their love. The palace the resembled their union fell into pieces, she needed to let go of him. The words he said cut deeper than a knife, made her feel cold. But how could she let go if she still loved him?

"So now you're with the Alchemist," a familiar voice interrupted her thoughts, making her turn to the source of it.

There he was. Orange hair and piercing blue eyes. His smirk wasn't present in the portray he displayed of himself, walking as the noble man he said he was. Her heart raced for the first time in years, asking her for indulgence, for permission to feel.

"Yes," was the first thing she said after some minutes processing what was happening. Childe was there, in front of her, "yes, I'm with Albedo."

"I see," he commented, uninterested. She thought that was all the interaction they would have, that he would go away again and leave her live her life, but she had to know better, "even if you can't forget me, you allow yourself to be with someone else?"

"What is it to you?" Y/N felt offended, who did he think he was to reprimand her in such a dirty way? He couldn't know she wasn't over him, could he?

"It's unfair for both of you. You see, love shouldn't feel like you owe something to someone just because they love you." Childe said, his gaze falling at the bracelet for a couple of seconds before looking at the landscape, "You're fooling him and yourself."

"And what would you know about love?" the question came in a bitter tone. She was angry, how dare he talk about love when he did her so wrong? When he hurt her so much?

"Touché." Childe gave her a sincere smile that reached his eyes, it was breath-taking. Y/N felt her stomach twirl and her heart jump at the sight of such a beautiful scenario, "Glad to see you well, Y/N. See ya!"

And like that, he left the place as if he hadn't turned her world around again. She missed him, she admitted to herself that she missed him. She missed his wild nature, his odd conversations, the mystery wrapping around him. She couldn't forgive him, but she couldn't live without him, either. That's the way she loved him.

Once Albedo returned from his errands, they both went to the transport point to return to Mondstadt. The way back was silent, but not a comfortable one as they always had, there was some tension lingering in between them. She wanted to attribute it to the tension she had been carrying since her encounter with Childe, but deep down she knew there was something else.

When they entered their house, they both changed into their sleeping garments without sharing a word, waiting for the other to be the first one to break the silence. Y/N didn't have it in her to be the brave one in the situation at hand, so, finally, Albedo spoke.

"I know you're not over him," he said, calmly, but there was jealousy in his tone.

She was surprised to hear him say those words. She never mentioned Childe before, less being in a relationship with him. She wanted to feel fear, the same one she felt when her argument with Childe broke them apart, but she felt nothing at all. Why? Why couldn't she be in love with a man life him?

"What?"

"You know what I'm talking about, Y/N." Albedo sighed, sitting at the edge of their shared bed.

"B-but", she stuttered, searching for words, "H-how do you know...?"

"There were rumours... some years ago, about the 'traveller' being with one of the Eleven Fatui Harbingers. It was during your time at Liyue."

She nodded, understanding, but really not understanding anything, "Did you believe them?"

"I can't say yes, but I can't say no, either." Albedo looked at her, he didn't look angry, and that made her feel a little bit better. "I just couldn't know if it was true or not because I wasn't there."

"I see." another moment of silence followed. She took a deep breath and looked at him in the eyes, "Why do you say that I'm not over him, though?"

"There are so many signs, you aren't the subtlest person, love." he chuckled, "The bracelet has Snezhnaya patterns and you haven't taken it out in all these years. I can only assume it was a present from Tartaglia."

Y/N nodded again, impressed with how observant Albedo was and with his deduction skills. She wished for the hundredth time that day that she would have fell in love with him and not with the Harbinger.

"I'm so sorry-" she began, but was quickly interrupted by her fiancé.

"Don't." he commanded, "That's not the only thing that gave you away."

"What do you mean?"

"Your late night trips."

'He knew' she thought, searching for any clues that could tell her when he had discovered it, but there were none. 'He has known all this time.'

"Why haven't you said anything?" she asked.

"I wanted to give you space," he began, "I must admit, however, that at first I thought you were cheating on me."

"I would never-" she was interrupted again, a kind gaze on his eyes.

"I know, I know. I realized when you came home smelling like grass and mint and not with the cologne of another man."

It was silent again, Y/N tried to find anything she could say to make him feel better, but she couldn't even understand himself. Why isn't she feeling her heart shattering? She knew why, but she didn't want to indulge in that feeling.

"I'm so sorry, Albedo. I really am."

"It's okay."

"No, it's not." those words sounded identical to the ones she had directed to Childe once upon a time.

"I am aware that you don't love me the way I love you."

"Albedo-"

"But it's okay, I can love both of us enough to fill that gap."

She was at a loss of words. Had she heard it right? What did he mean? Albedo was so calm, so ethereal, looking at her fondly even when he knew she didn't feel the same. He was going to marry a woman that didn't want him the same way she wanted her. And even though he was aware of that, he was smiling.

"Why?" she wondered out loud.

"Because that's how it works, that's the way I love you, until you can return my feelings."

The leaves that danced aggressively at the other side of the window stayed still, processing the scene going on in the room of the Alchemist and the Traveller. Their colour coming back to a vibrant one, giving her hope of being able to love again, to feel something.

Her love with Childe was like the Sun and the Moon, so in love they were crazy for each other, but impossible and unworkable. But, Albedo loved her like the Sea loved its waves, like the birds loved the Wind, like a Dwelling loved the warmth of the fire, and she was going to return it. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but she would. And when she did, she would love him as much as the Leaves loved their trees, as much as the Lake loved the rain that floods it, as much as the Horizon loved dusk.

She bid goodbye to Childe that night, leaving the bracelet in the drawer in her nightstand. Adorning her hand only was the ring Albedo had gifted her.

"See you, Childe," she murmured at 2 a.m. before falling in her slumber.

#albedo x you #albedo x reader #childe x reader #childe x you #genshin childe #tartagila #genshin impact #genshin liyue #liyue harbor #mondstadt

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oksana-moods · 3 years

Text

Supernova

Summary: As the seasons passes you by, it is inevitable for you to watch the fall.

A/N: This is an AU requested by the darling @multi-muse-transect and you might find it in here. This request filled me with joy and worries at the same time, because it was hard to create a visible story in my head before trying to write it down. But I really enjoyed all the research about Nova Corps, hence it took me a little more than intended.

Warnings: Language, marvel’s canon violence… if there is any other that I should mention, please, let me know.

“You take my breath away. You're a supernova and I'm a space bound rocket ship and your heart's the moon.”

#not my pic

Carol is at a window looking at the sculptures and other buildings of Hala, she’s just arrived from a mission against Kree insurgents. ‘They're like weeds’, she thinks. No matter how hard she fights or fights back, they always come back and never learn that against the Empress they will never succeed.

The lights are beautiful in Hala, but they will never compare to the lights of the Old Earth. She takes a look at the latest reports of her home planet's reconstruction on the table beside her and sighs, knowing that New Earth will soon be ready.

Years ago, Ronan attacked Earth with the intention of destroying Carol and he did, in fact, destroy her heart. Even though she could absorb and redirect energy, she failed to destroy all the missiles before they hit the ground and then it was over. And the beginning at the same time.

Completely possessed by the grief of losing her home and loved ones, Carol went hunting for the Kree and, more importantly, for the Supreme Intelligence and, one by one, Carol brought down her tormentors until she became the Empress of Kree, residing in Hala.

Her patrols to different galaxies have been reduced as she monitors the Kree group responsible for rebuilding the Earth, chases mutineers and still rules the Empire. Her Empire. There's not even time for karaoke, she thinks, as her eyes follows a shooting star across the night sky of her capital.

Her eyes narrow when said shooting star seems to take a route, rather than a random path, because it is a celestial body without navigation. This shooting star is, in fact, very different, she observes. And, almost a second late, she notices that someone is heading right for her.

Taking her by surprise, you hit the balcony glass as if it were nothing and saw Carol's body hurl against the wall with the impact of your body. Not even spending a breath, it's your turn to be hurled against the wall when Carol fights back even harder than you.

You fight, exchange punches and blows. You notice that she's slightly surprised to find a worthy opponent, something that's still unheard of. Until today. Until you.

And that intrigues her, how could someone be so powerful without her knowing?

"Did the Kree insurgents send you?" She asks after you collide on Hala’s sky, the noise and vibrations being felt even in buildings far away from the fight.

"No." You answer. “I was sent by Nova Prime to deal with you” You barely finish your sentence, and you attack Carol again, but she's confused. She had heard of Nova Prime when she was still a Kree soldier. When she fought for the wrong side.

She then looks at you once more. She takes in the clothes you're wearing and your helmet, which covers your eyes with a blueish light but leaves your chin bare. The symbol that resembles a star painted in red on your golden helmet indicated what you are. Nova Corp. You are a corpsman.

A bright, gold insignia in a form of three circles linked in your chest shines even in the dark, showing her that you’re not an ordinary corpsman, but a Centurion. You are Nova Corps’ Commander. Okay, that explain why you’re so powerful.

"What do you want with me?" She asks without the slightest pretension to continue fighting and for the first time you don't attack, you stop and look at her. Wow, the reports of her strength and agility were consistent with what you see, but there was nothing about her beauty. Shaking your head, you answer it.

"Justice." Seeing the confused expression on Carol's perfect face, you continue. "You are crushing the democracy that existed for the inhabitants of this planet, the countless reports of an empress overthrowing entire communities have crossed galaxies."

"Justice, you say." You see her eyes flash with anger and hatred. "And what justice does Nova Prime intend to give Earth?" She approaches dangerously and you have to remind yourself to not cower under her glare.

"The Kree have destroyed my home, so I won't give them one until the New Earth is rebuilt and populated." The threat in her gaze, in her posture, was tangible. "And nothing and no one in the universe will make me concede freedom to this barbaric species."

"Being a barbarian yourself?" You turn your head to the side in a questioning tone, but she takes it as irony. Maybe it was. “An eye for an eye, as earthlings are fond of saying. Or should I say, used to like?” A kind of roar was the only warning before her fist collided with your face.

"Wash your mouth before you talk about Earth, soldier." She patched up a string of blows you couldn't get out of. "Nova Empire has always fought the Kree, why they want to protect them now?"

She was strong; you've already figured that out, but like many other very powerful beings in the universe, they tend to think they're the only ones with powers. Absorbing most of the blows and directing the energy against the empress, you use your power blast and with that, once again, Carol is hurled against the wall of her palace.

As an automatic response, Carol uses the powers of her fist and you feel the force of a thousand cannons throwing you backwards into space, grunting right after with the impact of Carol's body, engaging the fight once more.

You could tell that she was angry and, according to your studies, humans tended to be guided by such frivolous feelings. And that was something you intended to use to your advantage.

Being two beings bestowed with stamina, the fight would go on for hours until someone got tired, but if she uses her powers erratically and drenched in rage, she will be drained quicklier.

“I am the Empress of the Kree Empire! Answer me!" The tone of voice in which she addresses you makes it clear that your goal of getting under her skin is working. With a smirk, you respond.

“Nova Empire takes care of the galaxy and has balance as its main goal, your highness. To overpower other species is not our intention.” Your response seems to enrage her even more and the only reaction you got from her was more blows and more blasts in your direction.

You dodge, you block, and you realize she's getting careless then letting her guard down. And that's where you come in with quick jabs almost powerless, only to enrage her more and more. Just to remind her that even an Empress has weaknesses.

You hit the ground and certainly the people throughout the city felt like it was an earthquake. Something was off and before you could react, Carol hits you with a blast right in the middle of the chest, throwing you meters and meters into a random building.

This time, you start feeling the impact on every wall you hit. You feel dizzy, your hand is shaking, and you find yourself bleeding. ‘What's going on?’ You think as you watch Carol's figure to grow in your field of vision.

The smirk on her face is ridiculously sexy, but you barely have time to make any comments before her voice reaches your ears. "Apparently, you're not that tough without your helmet on, are you?"

You look at her hand that is carrying what was once your helmet, now just broken shards and she drops it into your lap. Without your helmet you are ruined, as is your mission.

The smirk and one last punch were the last thing you remember before she knocks you down cold.

---

Your head was about to explode inside your skull, and you blink at the light entering your cell. All that brightness was not helping your headache at all.

It's been a few days since you've been taken prisoner by Empress Carol Danvers and whether Xandar knows or has noticed your disappearance is something you have no idea of. And when Nova Prime sends reinforcements after you it won't be pretty.

Before proceeding on your mission, you had already been informed that all diplomatic avenues had been tried but completely closed by the Empress. That way, Xandar wouldn't try negotiations to try to get you back. Perhaps this would trigger a new war.

A war you couldn't afford. Certainly, you didn't want the weight of being the trigger or the spark in a cold battle of inflated tempers on your shoulders. Carol had a very short fuse, as you witnessed firsthand, while Prime could be an slayer when the situation called for it.

Days passed, becoming weeks and your monotonous existence is only interrupted by the Empress's daily visits. Visits that you don't know why she still keeps, when it's pretty obvious that you have no information to provide.

You are a member of the Nova Corp and have been sent on a solo mission to "dissuade" the Empress from continuing to rule her own empire with an iron fist. There were no ulterior motives, no espionage or reinforcements waiting in the moon not far from Hala.

You were a single, last resource. There was nothing but you and your broken form. A failed soldier.

You were standing, watching the sun shining on buildings across Hala through the small window in your cell, admiring the dots circling farther down the street, almost forgetting that each dot was a person. You wonder if Carol forgets who they are.

"Um, admiring my city, I see." You spare her a brief glance before you return it to the window. She was in a red robe with local designs, and you can't shake off your head at how beautiful she is. How beautiful she looks in red. Or any other color.

You don't exactly know why Carol still comes to your cell, but you can't lie to yourself that you don't like it. You do. But you convince yourself that any company is better than the solitude of these walls, just that and nothing else.

She is an empress after all. A Sovereign, considered by many to be evil and tyrant. But each gentle gesture towards you reminds you that her hands are stained with blood. Like yours. Your conscience doesn't seem to know which side it should be on.

"Forgive me if my boredom is exacerbated, your city is the only thing I have left to admire." You answer still looking ahead, afraid to look at her and be mesmerized. The Empress was a mystery that captivated you, as her answers were never what you would expect them to be. Just like now.

“I could end your boredom. Hala’s Summer Trade is famous across the galaxy, have you ever tasted Pluot Fruit?” Your head swivel towards her so fast it feels like a whip.

"Summer?" Quickly you do the math in your head, in this solar system the days and seasons were longer than in Xandar, so... "How long have I been kept in here?"

"Too long, Nova." Nova? What kind of nickname is this? Shaking your head, you question her. "Nova? This is not my name." She giggles and moves closer to the energy field that makes up your cell door, she’s one yard away so you can smell her perfume. White jasmine.

“I know it isn't. But I decided to abbreviate the title of Nova Corps to Nova, besides, I own this place…” she opens her arms to emphasize what she's talking about. "I can call you whatever I want, prisoner."

You decide to play her game and with a smirk on your face you respond. “Prisoner? Now, seconds ago weren’t you inviting me for a walk, your highness?”

You lick your lips when you see her face contorting in a mix of anger and something else, but what, you don't know. “You abuse my benevolence too much. Your precious Xandar never tried to open a ransom deal, you are of no use to them or to me.”

Her words crash into your chest, and you feel your heart break a little more. Months have passed and there was no sign of another corpsman coming to your rescue and now she tells you that Nova Prime didn't even try to negotiate your freedom.

You close your eyes and with small, defeated steps you walk to the window. A lifetime dedicated to Nova Corp and Xandar, to be abandoned like a stray dog lost from its owners. Like someone worthless.

Defeated and hopeless, you ask Empress Carol why she still keeps you alive. Standing in the hallway leading to the dungeons hall she smiles triumphantly and speaks. "For my entertainment, prisoner."

"What do you think of the Pluot?" Carol's voice breaks your train of thought.

"Strangely delicious." You respond by referring to the strange appearance, as if it was a dried fruit and not completely juicy right after tasting it.

As with the fruit, such was your surprise to see Carol's interaction with her subjects. Many of them kept their distance, paid their obeisance and respects to the Empress, and continued on their way with their heads low.

However, a reassuring number of people seemed to genuinely like or even admire Carol and not out of obligation. Doing a 180° turn in the opinion you once held of the Empress, she was extremely adorable when interacting with children.

Who knew the fearsome tormentor of the Kree empire would be so… human? How can someone, who keeps a prisoner just for her own pleasure, be so kind? You wonder if they were the same person at all.

She smiles in response to what you said and you smile back, completely unsure of the reasons why you do.

After the Hala market tour went without incident, that is, without any attempt to escape on your part, Carol has granted you the right to stroll through the inner gardens of her palace. As much as you want to hate the way she plays as if you were a puppet, you can't.

You try to hate her, but each day you spend in her company makes it harder for you to deny the feeling that, gradually, grows in your chest. Then, you find yourself desperate to hang this passion before it's too late.

Your morning walks allow you to see autumn slowly approaching, little by little, with each leaf touching the ground. And if you used to enjoy Carol's garden alone, over time, the Empress's company became part of your routine.

"Why are you still keeping me alive, Carol?" You rarely addressed her by the title of empress or nobility, and she never forced you to use it, she seemed not to care whether you recognized her power or not. Nor did he seem to mind when you used it ironically.

"I like your company." She answered and that made you look directly into her eyes. "It isn't every day that I find a match." Her answer made something boil in your chest and you had to force your heart to understand that she was probably referring to the fight.

"I'm not a match for you, your highness." You spoke. "Everything special about me came from an enhanced helmet." A sad smile danced on your lips, remembering how powerless you felt when you saw it broken in her hand. You remembered how broken you felt yourself.

“Everything special about you comes from your heart, Nova.” Her tone was low and as much as you wanted, there was nothing to grasp in it. She spoke this sentence as if she were speaking about the weather but for you it just set your heart on fire.

Between stories from a lifetime ago, when Carol was only a human being without a single clue that the universe was bigger than her world and stories from her time adapting and training in Hala, you felt yourself slowly but surely falling for her.

The change for you was visible and you prayed it would be visible only to you. If before you thought she was beautiful, now she’s extremely attractive in your eyes. Even when choosing simple robes, Carol was always dressed impeccably.

After spending so much time together, it was only a matter of time before you realized that the Empress was possessed of vast intellect and knowledge about many different things.

But what strike you most was how funny and mundane she could be, yet, she still had that special something in her eyes that never failed in make you weak. You were a prisoner, indeed. A prisoner of her eyes.

Unlike many extremely powerful beings, Carol was humble enough to listen to your stories, and even encouraged you to tell more details about yourself. She never quite understood, but something about you drew her as if you were a magnet.

The sparkle in your eyes as you spoke about your homeland, friends, or your passion and honor in serving Nova Corp thrilled her. There were many things in you that stirred emotions in her, as well as aroused feelings that she thought she was no longer capable of feeling for a long time.

And so, without realizing it and at the same time fully aware of what was going on beneath her skin, the Empress fell in love with her Prisoner.

Winter at Hala marked when your quarters were no longer a cell but a room in Empress's palace. Larger than your home in Xandar, the room was beautifully decorated with art, and you could discern some Xandar artwork. You wonder if it was coincidence.

Despite being as warm as a star, Carol suggested that both of you should trade your walks in the garden for spending time in the library available at the palace. And that's how you began to be the Empress's company during her meals.

It started with lunch and then evolved into dinner and now Carol finds herself waiting for your presence before even touching her plate. ‘I shouldn't allow myself such weakness’, she thought. However, she couldn't bring herself to change or to avoid the need of your company.

"I beg your pardon?" You speak, barely able to avoid spilling your soup. The increasingly warm but shy rays of the sun and the many animals strolling in the courtyard tell you that spring is just around the corner. And that's exactly what almost made you spill the soup, in first place.

Carol cleared her throat, promptly speaking again, as if you had not heard her from the first time. “I’d be delighted if you grant me the honor of your company for the Spring Ball due in two weeks.” She looked at you expectantly.

Your mind was swirling as to why she would want you as her company, out of all people. She was the Empress; she could have anyone she wanted by her side. Yet, here she was, asking you to be her date.

The time in Hala flew slower as it did in Xandar, but it felt like the opposite, for the Ball came faster than you thought it be possible.

And here you were, walking down the entrance stairs in a beautiful golden gown with Carol’s arm locked with yours. Her deep green dress was marvelous and when you saw her welcoming you with that pretty smile of hers you thought you could melt.

Much to your dismay, Carol could sing just as she’d told you she could, but you never believed in her. It wasn’t hard for you to realize that you were free falling in love with her even more than you already were. If it was possible, you fell in love again. You’d be her prisoner, forever.

As the night went on, you were mesmerized by the ball, the music, and the way of life in Hala. It felt like a different life, one that very much resembled prince and princess’ tales that you heard when you were a kid.

A life that didn’t quite belong to you but looking into her eyes it made it feel like everything was possible, reachable, as if her power could create a different world. Just as she did. As ruler of the Kree empire, she created a new kingdom.

Standing in the balcony, you welcomed the cold air hitting your skin that was inebriating your senses, previously flooded by the Empress. The stars illuminated the sky of Hala making the city bellow you even prettier.

A soft touch in your hand brings your gaze back to its owner and a small gasp scape your lips when you see how close she is, even more so when you wish she were closer. “I never told you how beautiful you are tonight.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

“You flatter me, your highness. You’re flawless yourself.” A small smile creeped up her lips and you forced yourself to keep your eyes locked with hers, proven to be a hard task when she started to lean into your ear.

“There is something that I wanted to tell you for a while ago.” Her hands on your waist made it difficult for you to pay attention to her words, along with the feel of her cheek touching your cheeks made your knees weak.

“You’re no longer a prisoner and you can leave Hala if you want to.” Her thumb drew patterns where it touched you and you could feel your skin burning. “You’re free, but I wish you’d stay here.” She backed down and now her eyes were boring into yours.

“I wish you’d stay here with me.” She stressed.

Your heart and head were running thousand miles per hour in completely opposite directions. The rational part of you wanted to take your freedom and go back to Xandar, even though you should find it suspicious that, almost after a year, she’d let you go. Specially after you’d learned so much about Hala. About her.

However, your heart’s been slowly giving itself to this woman right in front of you, and there was nothing that you wanted more than to stay here with her. Surely, you felt left behind by Nova Prime, but it still stings in you that no one came after you. Not even a fellow corpsman.

‘Not one that you know, for that matter.’ You shook your conscience’s voice away and gave in to your heart. The rational part of you broke at the exact same time as did your helmet.

“Carol, I…” You begin but she interrupts you by placing an oh so soft lips on yours and there is no voice to hear anymore. Nor rational, nor emotional. There are only her lips pouring her heart into a kiss and you do just the same.

Right in that moment you felt as if your heart was about to melt, maybe it would, if she hadn’t broken the kiss and rested her forehead in yours.

“Tell me you’ll stay and rule by my side.” Before the true meaning of her words could sink in, the sky of Hala suddenly shone as if thousands of stars appeared right in that moment, drawing the attention of you both.

Not long until you realized that it wasn’t stars, but thousands of spaceships painting the night over your heads, and you’d recognize those ships anywhere. Xandar was here. And a voice that you’d never forget was heard above all noise.

“I am Nova Prime and Xandar declares war to Empress Carol, accused of murdering Nova Corps’ Commander.”

‘Why are they accusing her of murder?’ You thought to yourself. It does not make sense that she’s being accused of killing you when you’re alive. Unless…

“Carol, what did you do?”

50 notes · View notes

missfangirll · 3 years

Text

Let my heart be still a moment

Fandom: SCI Mystery Rating: General Relationship: Zhan Yao/Bai Yutong, Zhan Yao & Zhao Jue Tags: Angst with a happy ending, Case fic Words: 3815 Summary: When Bai Yutong is seriously injured on a mission, Zhan Yao has to find the ones responsible, receiving some help along the way.

Read on AO3

For @the-sassiest-trixster: You requested SCI, “go ham”, so I really hope you like it, despite it being more bonding with Zhao Jue than love story 😅

- - - - -

“It’s a trap,” is the last thought Zhan Yao has before the explosion hits him and throws him against a wall, his legs giving out from the shock and he drops down to his hands and knees. He can’t hear anything past the ringing in his ears, and feels some liquid trickling down his neck, ruptured eardrums, he thinks dimly. His right wrist feels wrong when he tries to support himself to get up, and there is blood in his eye, probably on the whole side of his face. He tries to wipe at it, only to get more in his eyes, and curses silently. Trying to make out his surroundings, he carefully sits up on his knees, still slightly shaky from the impact. The room they just had entered, an unremarkable living room with a worn bottle-green sofa and a low coffee table, looks quite different than mere seconds ago: Now he can see the bomb that was hidden in the sofa, cables and wires sticking out in all directions, shreds of green and white upholstery floating in the air like giant snowflakes. Miraculously, nothing’s on fire, a fact he should be grateful for, he thinks, when he notices the heap of limbs next to him, and freezes.

He can see at first glance that Bai Yutong is heavily injured, having been the first to enter the room and taking the brunt of the explosion. His limbs are twisted in strange angles, his usually pristine white suit has dark stains that are rapidly growing, and what Zhan Yao can see from his face, the part that is not covered in blood, looks wrong. His eyes are closed, and for the first time since they entered the apartment, Zhan Yao is scared.

Carefully, slowly, he approaches Bai Yutong on hands and knees, while trying to keep his weight from his injured arm. Reaching him, he extends a hand to wipe the blood from the other’s face, then stops mid-movement and takes his hand instead. Holding his breath, he takes the other’s pulse, readjusting his shaking fingers.

Nothing.

No pulse.

Zhan Yao starts shaking uncontrollably, clutching Bai Yutong’s wrist to his chest, his breathing ragged and almost hysterical.

No. No, no, no.

- - - - -

His consciousness flickers, and he only vaguely recognises their team members, frantically buzzing around them, before everything turns black.

He awakes to a distant beeping sound and a blinding pain behind his right eye. With a groan he tries to sit up, only to be stopped by a gentle hand on his chest.

“Easy there, Professor.”

Opening his eyes doesn’t really help his disorientation, since everything on his right side stays in darkness, while everything on the left is painfully bright. Groaning again, he tries to raise his hand to his face, only to discover it won’t move. Before he can try again with more force, the hand moves to his shoulder.

“Don’t move too much, Professor. You have a shattered shoulder and a shrapnel in your right eye, not to mention the broken wrist, ulna, and cracked ribs.” The voice laughs drily. “You should take it slowly for a while.”

“Yu… Tong,” he manages to croak out, voice hoarse and rattling.

The voice stays silent for a while, then, a shaky inhale. “His injuries… are worse than yours,” it explains, and Zhan Yao feels his heart freeze over. Ignoring the searing pain he turns his head to face the person beside his bed.

Zhao Fu sighs, then removes his hand from the other’s shoulder. In an attempt to look stern, Zhan Yao furrows his brows. Another sigh, then a cup of water appears in his field of vision. Apparently the other doesn’t trust his coordination, because he holds the cup to Zhan Yao’s lips who empties it in three large gulps. The cup is removed, and Zhan Yao makes an impatient noise for the other to continue.

“I won’t lie to you, Professor,” Zhao Fu says finally, “It doesn’t look good. He has multiple broken bones: a fractured skull, both cheekbones are shattered, some broken ribs… But the internal injuries are what concerns the doctors most.” He inhales again, his composure stretched thin over the boiling abyss of fear and worry. “I don’t..” He breaks off, then starts again, his voice raspy, “I don’t know if he… If he….” He trails off, not able to finish that thought, and Zhan Yao turns his head away to hide his tears.

- - - - -

It takes him four days to get out of bed, and five more to leave the hospital for good. All this time, Bai Yutong’s state doesn’t change, and Zhan Yao finds that, after almost a week of sitting by his bedside holding his hand, he has no more tears to cry. His grief has been replaced by a burning anger, and he knows exactly what he is going to do with it.

His first message after leaving the hospital is to the team, calling them to the office this afternoon. The second is to Zhao Jue.

Their relationship to the older man has developed into a strange kind of truce over the last months, and while he still doesn’t trust him, he knows what Zhao Jue is capable of - which is exactly why he asks him to meet.

Walking up the winding stairs to the loft always feels like climbing a lighthouse or an ancient castle, were it not for the strange paintings on the wall that only worsen his headache with their spiralling, whirling patterns.

Zhao Jue seems to be informed about the situation, since he comments neither on the eye-patch Zhan Yao is still wearing over his damaged right eye nor on the sling on his left arm, or his slightly limping gait, for that matter. He just nods in greeting and gestures towards a sofa, resuming to pour tea into two cups, then following Zhan Yao to the seat.

Only after they have finished the tea in silence and Zhao Jue has refilled their cups, he speaks. Clearing his throat, he asks simply, “Who?”

Zhan Yao exhales slowly, thinking what he can safely tell the other who is technically a wanted serial killer without compromising any police secrets, then shrugs inwardly and begins to talk. He tells him about the abduction case that had shocked the whole city into frantic activity, about their only lead being a shady witness, waiting for his own prosecution for human trafficking in a city prison. He had offered to give them information in exchange for a reduced sentence, and his leads had sounded reasonable, nothing indicating he was lying or setting them up. He had given them a name which in turn had led them to the apartment. Now it is obvious it has been a trap from the beginning, but who is behind it all, that Zhan Yao isn’t sure of. The witness didn’t look intelligent or influential enough to pull such a maneuver from a prison cell, which only leaves someone directly involved in the abduction.

Zhao Jue listens to these explanations without a word, only now and then stirring his tea cup with his ring finger. After Zhan Yao finishes, he stays silent for a while, looking thoughtfully at the younger man. Zhan Yao has laid out his cards, he thinks, now he waits for the other to show his hand.

Zhao Jue clears his throat again. “What do you want to do?” His voice sounds soft, gentle, betraying nothing of the steel Zhan Yao knows to lie underneath.

He almost shrugs, then remembers his shoulder and winces slightly, noticing how something like worry crosses over the other’s face, before he resumes his indifferent mask. It’s a good question, however. The next natural step would be to interrogate the witness again, to get him to spill some names, places, anything that could help them pin down the ones behind the bomb. The latter would be another lead to investigate, but it has already been transferred to the department that deals with explosives - and has a real lab, not that there is anything wrong with Gongsun and his experiments, but even his enthusiasm can’t replace a centrifuge. The problem is, though, that interrogating the witness-turned-suspect a second time has been the first thing Zhao Fu did after leaving the hospital, and unfortunately to no avail. The man had simply refused to talk, stating he already had helped them and didn’t know anything about a trap or a bomb. Thus, all their leads have gone cold.

Sighing, Zhan Yao shakes his head. “I don’t know,” he admits. Zhao Jue raises an eyebrow, but stays silent while Zhan Yao continues, “I could try interrogate the witness again, but the chances that he talks to me are--”

“He will talk.”

Zhan Yao startles at the interruption and closes his mouth with a snap, staring at the other.

“He will talk,” Zhao Jue repeats, and it’s with a finality that makes Zhan Yao shiver involuntarily.

- - - - -

He does talk.

It takes twenty minutes until Zhao Jue emerges from the interview room with two names scribbled on a yellow post-it note. The suspect is still sitting at the table, pressing his hands to his ears, rocking back and forth, mouthing silently. Zhan Yao remembers Bai Yutong’s still form in a hospital bed and doesn’t feel sorry.

Zhao Jue wordlessly hands the note to Jiang Ling, then grabs Zhan Yao’s uninjured shoulder and steers him towards his office. Closing the door behind him, Zhao Jue lets go and takes a step back, crossing his arms over his chest, raising his eyebrow in a silent invitation to talk. Zhan Yao bristles, but before he can snap at the other, a call from outside draws their attention back to the case.

“Professor, we found something!”

Without a word, Zhan Yao rushes past the other man who follows him after a second’s hesitation. He isn’t sure if he heard the other sigh, but ignores this detail for now. On the large screen, the two names Zhao Jue got from the suspect are displayed, next to the persons’ photos and information. Chen Shen, the left file reads. Fifty-three, suspected to be involved in the local drug trade, divorced, his daughter studies drama in London. The right side of the screen is almost empty, Zhan Yao notes with a frown. The woman in the blurry photograph looks a bit over forty, wearing a suit jacket and, oddly enough, a tie. Apart from her name, there are no further details. Zhan Yao turns to his team, a question on his lips, when Wang Shao explains, “Her real name is Zhang Qi,” and Zhan Yao whirls around to stare at him. That name is familiar, well-known in all law enforcement, for being the supposed head of a trafficking ring that specialises in little girls. There has never been so much as a rumour to tie her to anything, nothing that could be proven, and police and criminals alike are equally afraid and astonished.

Zhao Fu is the first to break the silence. “If she is involved in our abduction,” he says slowly, massaging the bridge of his nose, “then the girl is likely out of the country by now.” The rest of the team nod in begrudging agreement.

A chuckle from the door startles all of them, and several chairs turn around swiftly to face the intruder who adds cheekily, “Seems I’ve arrived at the perfect moment.” Stepping into the room, Zhao Zhen reveals three large boxes which he carefully deposits on the nearest desk, grinning widely. “I think you all need some sugar before you decide anything important,” he declares, and Zhan Yao’s heart clenches at the sight of his team, who give him sideway glances, smiling hesitantly. He isn’t the only one who worries, he realises, and forces his face into a smile. “Alright,” he nods, “let’s have some sugar before we continue.”

The donuts do help, and after a few minutes, Jiang Ling approaches Zhan Yao with wide eyes and powdered sugar on her cheeks. “Professor,” she exclaims, “I just had an idea how to find the evil lady.” Zhan Yao looks expectantly at her, only to receive a headshake. “It would probably take longer to explain it,” she shrugs apologetically, then adds, “I’ll just try it now, if that’s okay,” and Zhan Yao can only nod.

Soundlessly, Zhao Jue steps out of a corner and Zhan Yao startles. He still isn’t used to his right side being blind, and the other moving without a sound doesn’t help. He almost reprimands him, when the older man grips his shoulder once more, this time not to move, but to make him stay and listen. Zhan Yao shuts his mouth with a snap.

“You should go,” Zhao Jue says quietly, and Zhan Yao doesn’t have to ask where. Knowing the others will call him, he just nods, and turns to his team, but before he can form a word, Ma Han makes a shooing motion at him and sighs. “We can deal with this, Professor,” she says, sounding a tiny bit impatient, something Zhan Yao would definitely address if he had any brain capacity left for it. So he just nods again, and is out of the building and in a taxi in less than two minutes.

Bai Yutong’s state hasn’t changed in the two days Zhan Yao didn’t visit him, nor has he moved. Zhan Yao stands in the open door, looking at his mouse, wondering if he has ever seen him this still. Carefully, slowly, he approaches to sit in a plastic chair next to the bed, taking the other’s cool hand in his, pressing a kiss to his knuckles.

On the way here he thought about what he might tell his mouse, about the case, about the progress, but now that he sits here he finds himself not able to speak. Silently, he caresses Bai Yutong’s hand with his fingertips, then his face, then bends down to lean his forehead against the other’s, closing his eyes.

I miss you, mouse. Come back to me.

- - - - -

His ringing phone disturbs the quiet and for a moment he feels disoriented, misplaced, before he clumsily fumbles for it and takes the call without looking at the name.

“Let’s have lunch,” Zhao Jue says without introduction, and Zhan Yao is too stunned to protest. “The diner at the corner, opposite the park. Ten minutes,” he says, and hangs up. Zhan Yao stares at his phone screen for a second, before he scrambles to his feet, presses a kiss to Bai Yutong’s cheek, and heads downstairs.

When he arrives at the diner, Zhao Jue is seated in a booth in a dark corner, a steaming cup in front of him. Zhan Yao slides into the seat opposite him, careful of his injured shoulder. He notices that the other has chosen their seats so that Zhan Yao’s left side faces the room, his blind spot towards the wall.

When the waiter comes to take their order, he mindlessly lists a few things he remembers to have liked, then fiddles with the menu for a while. Zhao Jue gives him a pointed look, but doesn’t comment. When their food arrives, they eat in silence, Zhan Yao trying to savor the taste.

It is only after another cup of tea that Zhao Jue asks, “How is he?”, and Zhan Yao feels his shoulders slump.

“Unchanged,” he answers eventually, not able to fend off the image of his mouse’s lifeless face, and shivers.

“And how are you?,” the other asks, and Zhan Yao blinks at him in confusion. Since it has been apparent that his injuries weren’t as bad as Bai Yutong’s, every and all attention had been on the latter, even Zhan Yao’s own, so it takes him a moment to really parse that question. “I will be fine,” he offers after a while, because it is the truth. The doctors were optimistic that he would be able to use his eye again, his shoulder is healing, as well as all the countless other minor injuries and cuts he has sustained. He will be fine, eventually. It’s not important.

“That’s not what I asked,” Zhao Jue observes, and Zhan Yao freezes, mouth open in an aborted response. “I asked,” the other clarifies with a scrutinizing gaze at Zhan Yao, “how you are. Not how you will be.”

Zhan Yao blinks slowly at him, then closes his mouth. “I..,” he begins, then pauses. How is he? His head hasn’t stopped hurting since the moment he woke up in the hospital bed, his left arm isn’t usable at the moment, which makes getting dressed in the morning a complicated ordeal. But not being able to see is the worst, he realises, no matter how optimistic the doctors are, no matter how much worse Bai Yutong’s injuries are. He sighs and slumps further into his seat, leaning slightly against the wall. “Not that fantastic,” he admits. “I have had a headache for a week and my arm is pretty much useless. But I’ll live,” he tries to make light of it, when Zhao Jue reaches over and presses his thumb to Zhan Yao’s temple, his index finger on his forehead. Before he can protest, the searing pain dulls to a numb throbbing behind his temple, and he shudders in relief. “How..,” he starts, but Zhao Jue just hums, pulling his hand back.

Before Zhan Yao can respond in any way other than stare at the man opposite him, his phone rings. When he ends the call, Jiang Ling having told him she has news, he finds Zhao Jue has already paid for their meals and waits at the door, silent as always. Hurrying after him, Zhan Yao realises, not for the first time, how little of the other man’s motives he really understands.

Jiang Ling has earned her bonus this time, and beams at Zhan Yao when he tells her that. In fact, her discovery is worth a dozen bonuses. Zhan Yao understands only a third of her enthusiastic explanations, but it’s enough to be deeply impressed by the nerdy woman. She somehow managed to link a delivery of expensive, imported bath oils to an office building in the middle of nowhere, realising nobody would take a bath at their workplace - only certain kinds of workers, Wang Shao helpfully adds, which earns him a slap upside the head from Zhao Fu - and then finding the actual purpose of the building and its owner’s name: Zhang Qi.

Zhan Yao is delighted to finally have a clue, but his eagerness is dampened by Wang Shao’s question. “And what exactly are we going to do now?”

Of all the people in the room, Zhan Yao wouldn’t have expected Zhao Jue to step forward.

“I might have an idea.”

His idea is, even Ma Han has to grudgingly admit, actually quite reasonable. They have to investigate the office building, that much is certain, but the only one to have a chance to stay undetected - and be fine in case they don’t, but that is a detail no one mentions - is in fact Zhao Jue. So, some hours of preparation later, Zhan Yao, Zhao Fu and Zhao Jue are crammed together in an SCI observation van, the older man in a bright orange pest-control uniform.

“Remember,” Zhan Yao begins for yet another time, when the freshly-made exterminator directs a grin at him that makes him uneasy. Nodding, he says seriously, “I don’t know who you are and what the SCI is,” as if this is what they have been talking about for an hour. Horrified, Zhan Yao tries to interject, when Zhao Jue grabs his costume props, opens the door and hops down. With a wink to the other two, he marches off towards the office building.

Zhao Fu groans, hiding his face in his hands. “I really hope this wasn’t a mistake. The boss is going to murder us if this goes wrong.”

Zhan Yao nods silently.

Before they left the SCI, he had taken Zhao Jue aside, determined to get some real answers out of the other, but all he had received was a grin and another question, asked with sparkling eyes and quiet amusement in his voice.

“Do you trust me?”

Zhan Yao hadn’t had it in him to deny it.

When it’s all over, Zhan Yao doesn’t ask how Zhao Jue managed to get past fourteen heavily armed guards, doesn’t want to know, but somehow the other did, and he found the abducted girl. Next to twenty-seven others who have gone missing from the whole country during the last months.

When the storm has calmed, the girls have been brought to the hospital and the guards inside arrested - all of them suspiciously pliant and agreeable, but nobody had asked, and Zhan Yao sure as hell wouldn’t mention it either - Chief Bao holds a press conference, obviously enjoying the spotlight on himself and on his department. Zhan Yao tries to stay in the background. It doesn’t feel right to stand there alone, so he doesn’t at all.

They can’t exactly tell the media that the one having solved the case is a wanted serial killer who recently escaped prison, so Zhan Yao is for once glad for the Chief’s need for recognition. On the way back, Zhao Jue looks at him with a knowing gaze, but doesn’t say anything, and Zhan Yao tries to focus on something else.

With the older man’s help - and probably more than just a bit of coercion from Chief Bao to make sure the SCI were the ones to interrogate them - the culprits arrested in the office building spill their secrets surprisingly easily. They all name Zhang Qi as the mastermind behind the whole operation, giving even more names and addresses that were used to move the girls around, providing so many details that Bai Chi brings in a whole box of new ledgers to write in after the first afternoon. It’s a day later that one of them admits to building a bomb and hiding it in a sofa in an empty apartment, all of this on Zhang Qi’s orders.

After Zhang Qi and her inner circle are arrested, Chief Bao invites all of them to dinner, even Zhao Jue and his nephew, who both actually show up, even if one seems significantly more delighted than the other. Zhan Yao observes in silence, meeting Zhao Jue’s gaze over the animated talks and happy atmosphere at the table. He nods in acknowledgement, and the other smiles slightly.

- - - - -

Bai Yutong wakes a day later, in the late morning, the sun gently caressing his features. The first thing he does is to reach out to Zhan Yao, weaving his hand into the other’s hair and pulling him in. Their foreheads resting against each other, Zhan Yao takes his first deep breath in weeks.

#sci谜案集 #sci mystery #sci #zhan yao #bai yutong #yaoyutong #zhao jue #my writing #angst with a happy ending

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lia-wildfire · 3 years

Text

Nosy Superhero Gets Her Backup Privileges Revoked (Whumptober)

The superhero Comet was the best flier in the city, the only one who didn’t need support items to get or stay in the air and wasn’t a villain. Even with her other power of energy beams ...not available to her at the moment (her hands were still so cold) she was capable enough to get by, focusing on rescues and playing support in fights.

The thing about being a superhero was that there wasn’t always someone to fire energy blasts at, but there was always someone who could use the help of someone who could fly. She hadn’t even risen… that much concern or suspicion, probably, since the second power had been taken. Just a look or two when she kept wearing gloves even outside of costume and a couple of comments about how her hands kept shaking. It was fine, anyway, when she was in costume and in her headquarters’ jurisdiction and could rely on backup at any second.

The superhero Comet was not in costume and was not within her headquarters’ jurisdiction. Hailey Park was outside her city’s limits entirely, all of her armored Comet costume was at HQ, and the backup set was in her apartment where her boyfriend had been waiting for their date that night.

She was going to be a little late.

Mildly suspicious activity wasn’t enough to make a call on, but she’d gotten a feeling on the way home, when she saw the truck being loaded across the street. Suspicious truck loading plus a feeling of pure instinct still wasn’t enough to call headquarters or the regular police, and she had told herself she would only follow for a minute to see if they did anything outright illegal or went somewhere completely innocuous and she could call to sheepishly explain that she’d been held up on the date by her own baseless paranoia.

Flying made it easy to move quietly and keep up, and to find the truck again after losing its tail once or twice. (Even though it felt weird to be doing this in sneakers and her boyfriend’s affectionately stolen jacket, without any extra eye protection. At least she knew to keep her mouth shut so she wouldn’t swallow any bugs.)

She’d been following for more than a minute, they had left the city, the sun was going down, and she still couldn’t shake that feeling that something was wrong here. Something familiar about the boxes they’d loaded… she couldn’t get close enough to verify that without being seen herself. Once they were out of city limits, they got moving too fast for her to get a good moment and shoot off a text with more elaboration, she had to keep her eyes on them and stay moving constantly to keep up. (Which sucked, because she was starting to think that the quick [Checking something out, won’t take too long <3] sent an hour ago wasn’t going to cut it at this point.)

They were in another town. She hadn’t caught the name. The truck had pulled into an area that wasn’t quite a parking lot, but also wasn’t small enough for Hailey to want to call an alleyway. Sheltered by buildings on all sides, nowhere high profile enough to have a night guard, just workplaces whose occupants had all gone home by now.

It was behind one of these buildings that Hailey had touched down and leaned as close to the corner as she dared, peeking out through a shadowed area.

The truck’s occupants didn’t seem to be unloading yet, almost as if they were waiting for something. They all seemed pretty distracted talking to each other, and their conversation wasn’t damning outright but it also wasn’t reassuring her. They spoke roughly, though only one of them looked rough enough to match. Whatever was in the boxes was important, somehow, but she couldn’t tell whether they were trading them to someone else, waiting for some kind of signal, or just stopping for the night. It was getting a little late, but they hadn’t been driving for that long since loading up…

“Did you ding up my truck?” rang out louder than everything else, coming from a shorter but muscular woman who had just walked around to the passenger side, where Hailey couldn’t see from her current vantage. The others swarmed to look, several of them taunting the one who seemed second tallest out of the group.

Hailey didn’t like not being able to see them all clearly, but the bonus here was that they couldn’t see her either so she could lean out a little more to get a better look at the boxes, finally catching a glimpse of the symbol on the side of one–

Eyes widening, she heard herself gasp, then drew back immediately and would have scolded herself if it wouldn’t definitely give away her position.

Someone needed to know about this, now.

After a few seconds of holding still, with her heart racing in her ears, it… didn’t sound like anyone had raised an alarm.

Not wanting to risk being heard moving, she floated herself a few steps farther back before taking out her phone, gripping it tightly so her shaking hands wouldn’t drop it again.

Had it not been silenced that whole time? (It was on vibrate, sure, so it wouldn’t be blasting pop lyrics unexpectedly, but she took an extra second to make sure its sound was completely off, and turn down the brightness for good measure.)

The first thing she saw was the last text window, now with several increasingly concerned follow-ups from her boyfriend. Her index finger hovered over the quick call button, but… she couldn’t risk it right now. She’d just hide its light against her shirt, float back to make sure she could still hear a casual conversation, there wasn’t a need to fly straight up and hit the panic switch. She could hide again and start to type, quickly not even fixing the mistakes caused by shaking or by fingertips being a little too cold for the touch screen to read immediately.

(A tiny smile couldn’t help forming when she saw [Hot HotBaby <3 is typing…] pop up on his side of the texts just a few seconds after she started. It was also a relief to know there would be a quick response.)

He knew about her… situation, with her power being “confiscated” and how it had happened, so he would know the urgency of getting this news out just as soon as she could tap out something at least slightly intelligible–

There was a face reflecting behind hers in the darkened glass.

With the phone against her chest again, she jumped forward, turning midair just in time to see something crash down in the space she’d just been occupying.

“Caught a little birdie over here~!” Called out the muscular woman from before, who was perched in a windowsill on the building Hailey had been using for shelter. How had she gotten there so quietly?

The thing that had crashed looked like it was made of the same concrete as this exterior wall. Some kind of material manipulation power? Specifically stone-like materials, or–

Whatever it was, Hailey was getting out of there immediately.

Two things happened before she could get more than an inch or so off the ground: Something heavy slammed into her from behind, and something solid caught around her ankles, trapping them in place. She was able to use the leverage from being stuck to keep from getting completely bowled over, but that would’ve been easier to recover from if she weren’t being held down and kept from getting any altitude. Arms came around and she realized the weight was a person (and that there were now several more people in the alley than there’d been a second ago).

This may have just gone from a situation to a Situation.

Fortunately, she had finely honed reflexes for just this sort of unexpected combat situation. Unfortunately, those reflexes relied on a power that she did not currently have.

Instead of a blast of cyan energy weakening the concrete bonds or making her assailant rethink their current course of action, what she got was a sudden icy numbness shooting from her fingers and palm up through her entire arm as her hand’s shaking intensified. That made it harder to try to wrestle them off manually, especially since she was still reserving one whole arm for protecting her phone and trying to hit the call button without looking.

Things were escalating a little too quickly. She managed to clumsily grab, twist, and throw them off before bending down to pull at the things wrapped around her legs, willing her fingers to keep working through the feeling of being frozen from the inside. (The phone was kept hugged to her chest– the less attention she drew to the light it let out and the attempts she was making to call for backup, the more likely it would be to do something.)

“Think you can break concrete? Good luck with that.”

There was a snort, then someone’s hand in her hair. They got her head pulled back before she could duck to the side and bring her forearm up to knock them away. All but one of the people from the truck was now clustered around her, as casual as if looking at a cool bug someone had found instead of a person who’d just caught them transporting–

“Hey hey wait is that Comet. You got heroes on our tail?”

“No way, Comet would’ve blasted–” The hand was back in her hair and the only reason she hadn’t lost her balance and fallen was that she was technically still flying right now. At least now she was wearing more of a glare than a look of wide-eyed panic. “Holy–”

For the first time, Hailey had a moment of second-guessing her decision to be a more publically open hero.

“Back off or I will start blasting,” she said, straightening up suddenly, and with enough force that there was actually a pause as wary eyes went to her hands…��

And just enough quiet that the pre-call dialing sound could be heard from her phone.

“Shut her up.” Concrete Woman snapped and the group jumped into action.

It wasn’t the most choreographed assault Hailey had ever witnessed or been the target of, but it was still difficult to fight off four people with one arm that refused to respond consistently or register when it was touching something, while stuck to the ground. Before the dialing could finish, she found her arms being wrenched out of her control and someone behind her again with a forearm pressing sharply against her neck. She could get out of this hold if she had both hands free, but she refused to let go of the phone yet, she wasn’t confident enough that she could get out of this without any backup.

When she heard it pick up, the only sound she could get out was a –literally– strangled gasp, to which she felt that chokehold tightening further. None of the others spoke. Through wavering vision, she caught a couple of nods and jerking of heads in lieu of verbal communication.

‘Hailey?’ came the sound of her boyfriend’s worried voice, sparking off a fresh round of struggle as she turned her head and yanked her hand back, trying to get a less dangerous angle in the chokehold so she could get out one word, and trying to keep any of them from hanging up on him before he could hear it.

For her troubles, a hand pressed in over her mouth and nose and someone twisted her arm painfully, digging their nails into her skin, until the phone clattered to the ground.

Some of her muffled cries must have been heard, because she could hear her name being repeated more urgently, then breaking off into something she couldn’t quite catch because either he’d gotten quieter or there was a little too much blood rushing in her head.

Her eyes had been squeezed shut with effort, but even when she opened them everything was getting a lot darker than it really should be, and she was having trouble making sense of what she saw. Having gone still for a second, the hold stopped getting tighter and she was able to make out the rectangular glow, someone had picked it up, then another glow like it was being surrounded by some kind of energy… The form of someone drawing back to throw at maximum strength.

With whatever breath she had left, she screamed against the hand as loudly as she could, cut off after less than a second when it felt like her neck was suddenly crushed.

Voices picked up again as the spot of light sped into the distance and disappeared, but everything was already going black.

#whumptober2021 #no.2 #choking #oc #writing #lady whump #going unconscious #heroes and villains #sssshv #comet #first superpower there is some kind of stonelike material manipulation #the other one is some kind of like telekinesis that specifically encapsulates small objects before they can be yeeted a very long distance #whoever tracks her phone's signal is going to get the wrong area of town #wordcount 2150

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smndragon · 3 years

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HI HI HI HOW ARE YOU?

ME:fine

My big three are Pisces sun 11th house (if houses are allowed), capricorn moon 8th house (💀) and Taurus rising!

And yes most of my planets are in detriment 🥲

Thank you luv! Take your time 💞

First off I had to sit up in bed it's so late here (I'm fine I'm watching history stuff rn on the Victorian era)

Second off let's go hm. This is honestly gonna be awkward. My methods are confusing I'm sorry and sometimes I may mix energies😭 Pisces sun, Capricorn moon, and Taurus rising. Have to turn my tv down to connect. (Took my hair down so I'm feeling more energy and I love it)

NO MORE STALLING I NEED TO DO THIS. the Pisces sun and Capricorn moon are reaching out more than Taurus rising. (Possibly form reading those first lol) when I see the pisces I see flames for some reason? Something cold along those lines, the fire feels like I could pass through it dancing and it wouldn't burn me one bit. The Pisces sun is retracting it's touch so going to come back in a bit. Multiple marionettes are in the distance of the Pisces sun home, women and men all alike in fashionable ballet poses. Hung up on the walls with black paper. The walls of a weirdly enough idol? I see fairy lights of cool colors and bright lights. The walls are blue and white, color changing over and over. I don't see the Pisces until typing this, in the middle of the room, on pillows of all arctic tones. (My screen broke so typing this hurts my eyes kinda sorry for typos) the Pisces takes the form of a wise and authentic sheep or lamb. Fish in bottles cover the rooms shelves and book holdings. Many jars of items never seen before by modern eyes or old. (Though they do seem modern in a way I just ramble and write this all at once sorry) from the dancers I believe you may enjoy the finer arts of things related, or stand in your kitchen with songs or silence somehow making your own music. The pictures move on the walls creating fairytales and stories of all kinds. Leaning towards probable loss of childhood or the indulgence in stories close to your heart. The Pisces sun may be placed in the chest, lower stomach, or left hip? It cools your heart sometimes but you do seem very warm. I keep thinking of Hans Christian Andersen and his stories in my mind, possible Disney adaptions. Your Pisces sun offers warm hot chocolate to it's passerbys, the walls turn to the form of an iced igloo (possible misspelling) the place your Pisces sun offers in other people's hearts is undeniable, true to their beliefs and nature, sweaters adorn it's wool. Possible love for warmth and bigger clothing unless parties come around. I feel the Pisces sun could offer difficulty in relationships because of its worrying nature at times, the Pisces is more fiery than common belief but it still holds meek under certain presences. "Hide me" it keeps saying, moving from it's pillows to behind me. It loves it's host too much, it has been with you in more cases than just this lifetime, I feel it new it would reach you someday as most zodiacs do. The sun's eyes are so wide they hold galaxies, love for stars and hearts or heads filled with the knowledge of them. Curiosity has killed this sign so many times it stopped looking on its own. Your host body helps it explore and it thanks you for that.

THIS IS SO LONG ALREADY.

Your Capricorn moon is dear to you. It sometimes pushes the Pisces sun over in order to make room for itself. It takes the form of a bull, headfirst hitting your heart with it's passion and longing. It shakes the core of your other zodiacs, waking them every morning like an alarm. This could possibly cause headaches, pain in your sided, or heartburn? The dark sleek hairs on the bull have gifted you the roots of your hair (not color just strength and devotion to grow). I now see the possibility of baldness at some point? Either by choice or you've thought "f*ck it why not?" But didn't go through. The bull had a golden cow ring, it shines in distance. The light creates a desert image to the people witnessing it. The Capricorn moon entices the mystery and wanting form others that gods had gifted its patrons. Your hair is a natural element of your being. I see messy mornings with a toothbrush in the holder. Standing in front of the mirror a host looks into their eyes looking for the Capricorn. A tiny bit of reminiscence is the eyelashes of your eye and the marks on your skin either moles or beauty wise. I saw an image of a cow looking birthmark and that's adorable but not a probable so ignore. "Love" it tells you this with every hit of its horns on your heart. Love until you're bleeding but not when you're burnt. Carry it's fire and temper and show it to anyone who pains your loved ones or crosses its borders. Don't flush people out, just learn that you will always matter and the Capricorn moon will always be there. It has engraved it's initials in the form of hooves so far deep into your flesh you will never not feel it. I see clear skin which could have been helped with facial products or natural and pure sweat. The bulls hard work always pay off, and the sweat at the end of the day will always be a sign of its natural influence. Highly intelligent and most utterly gorgeous. Okay well while I was writing this it took a turn and started coming after me so we'll leave it there. I keep coming back here god, sickness or flus were common once to your body or mind, the pain has washed over (past current or future?) Placement definitely near the heart or lungs. They seems cracked in the future, avoid smoking.

I feel I haven't given enough information hopefully it'll give more later on.

"hold me" "me, me, me" I keep hearing it form your signs. The Taurus ascendant loves the fire of your Capricorn moon. It admires the reigning image of the zodiac and wishes to connect with it. Often they hide away from you in dreams, enjoying thoughts and snacks, talking of what's to come in the next hosts life. (They still love you don't worry) you leave them wondering how they got here, how their host became the person they are now. They whisper congratulations to you in your sleep, sometimes wandering your housing area, looking for parts of you in every little thing. The Pisces sun seems more isolated from the rest but they force them to deal with their presence. (Pieces secretly loves it) the Taurus rising works exactly well with the bull Capricorn, waking the same and sleeping the same. It love to chat and talk the boots off of your conscience. Arguing it should be able to hold some power and that the consequences will be worthit. They honestly need to take a break, I thought of them in stripper boots and heels pointing at the sun💀 I'm guessing that's the house of your mind in the desolate desert. The Taurus rising offers crops and room for experience and experimenting growth. Crops of corn, greens, and etc. It carries fields and fields of cropping on its back. Dealing with your struggles by coating them in salt and good food. This makes me think there's a possibility people think you take things too lightly. That's not always the case you just worry over and are both tired of it at the same time possibly. You've down your work and you don't owe much to this world unless you offer. Retract your hand if you need please you deserve it. Lay back with shades and swim wear even in the broad neighborhood those people's thoughts shouldn't matter. The Taurus rising has taken your burdens, it worries not for your future as it plans on keeping close eyes on the plants and fields in your chest and body. Vines of fruits of all kinds grow on the legs area, possible things associated with that area in life or mind.

All in all your signs balance you with love, kindness in the form of drinks, handshakes between all time friends, warm goodbyes, lovely future meals, and more. They care for you and no matter what your decision is they appreciate your thoughts. Your method is precise, always carry on and back it up.

For future health I see fevers and malnourishment, not to worry with your friends and loved ones in the future or from the past. Possible miscarriage if heavily dosed on certain things, I see birth control, pain relievers, and stuff to take the edge off involving cars. Careful driving. Honestly, hit your head on the steering wheel when you're stressed it's been a long time coming and it'll heal🤍 you have a good proportioned body. Skin is soft and loved by all who see it. Your smile is so intoxicating it should take place of the sun. "Hold your friends close and your enemies closer" I saw that and I love the vibe it gives off, feels like a mob boss person and I dig it. Keep doing you, I don't see many problems just keep going you're doing great and the afterlife that you believe in or even if not at all is prepared with roses and decorative caskets filled with all your most fashionable items. The Taurus brings out fashion and luxury so it's not a surprise you may like the finer afterlife you've got all set up. Kiss the devil if you see him he adores you (not wishing bad just saw it). I keep seeing people form peaky blinders. Possible other zodiac influence is Gemini, Virgo sun or moon, I see the weird word hysteria, other Capricorns tend to attract so gl I think you may know some placements. Based on the houses with my knowledge your sun in the 11th is a good place to be it gives a communal and work influenced life. People like your ideas and the friendships are worth while, you bring a hope to people that isn't needed sometimes but is always there, feels like an office friend situation. Possible job friendships and popularity. Capricorn moon in 8th tells me you have cardinal secrets, both zodiac and sins. It's not on my knowledge just a feeling, but it isn't wrong you've been redeemed in almost every culture and religion, I see you may not have strong religion in the basic stuff but you do care for culture. You spend your time admiring the loves of other nations, countries, religions, lifestyle, and more design and architecture came up 3d modeling too I feel like the little baby 3d model kit is something you need to try with a family member, lover, or friend, it's gonna be a bit messy but you'll like it some bit. I don't get know what detriment is sorry but I feel I got somewhat through that it made me think of mental health, hardships, and overall security somehow idk. Ask for more if you want I feel I forgot stuff and this has been so long sorry.

COMING BACK TO REALIZE I MISSED ENERGY COLORS! Taurus ascendant is a warm orange, dry sun rays and heated lamps are seen, the colors loved by those in hot weather used to it. The Pisces sun is cool with blues, grey's, whites, and a tiny smudge of yellow in soft swirls. Particles surround it. Capricorn moon is overly intimidating me right now. It glares so much god. It's color is dark blues mixed with purples and sea refuge vibes. Deep sea diving why don't they. The colors could create pallets only seen by me. They are honestly really beautiful.

HONESTLY WHAT AM I DOING ITS 4 AM NOW. okay description wise. I see short it average person. Possibly tall but idk I doubt myself during these but they seem to be right when I do???? Hesitation is a problem with me. I'd say 5'2-5'6 possible 5'7 or even 6'0 your energy says I'm huge don't ignore me so what's happening. Age could be somewhere to late teens through late or mid twenties (using basic knowledge it's not likely you aren't so open as a young teenager but your aura says you're young as ever. Your skin I want to say is dark tanned yet still seen as white but the Indian part makes me doubt. My mother is what looks white you'd never guess so I thought possible brown to black hair maybe even possibly a light brown? (Vague I'm so sorry) I see a beauty mark on your arm, inner thighs somewhere. Your lover now or in the future has a possible tendency to kiss you all over at times? Random. Your clothing style is bold yet meek. You wear things not expected in the season but still fits within the cultures of seasonal beauty. Rock hair would suit you ngl in my mind it's the smallest maybe. You have many boots and few heels possibly, possibly to add height though given since duh that what they're kind for. I see a red car somewhere idk ignore that. Possible relations to the goddess Hera in some way, she gifts you with few of her talents, some being a pathway of unseen gold. Do more crazy poses don't care if it's weird do it. Memories do it for the memories. I see many Taurus themes possible soulmate bond placement if you believe in that (I have theories against the basic soulmate thing but I still like it).

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ask-chaos-kin · 3 years

Text

Slender Freaks Ch.1

Fortress Beyond Our Belief

“Keep going! We’re almost there!” A girl cried, shoving her brother forward through the leaden halls.

“We’re not going to make it!” The boy shouted, jumping as a creature tried to snag at his heels.

“We will make it! Just keep going!” The girl gasped, fighting to stay ahead of the monster that chased them down through the corridors. She and her brother turned a sharp corner, and they both gasped in shock. “There! There’s the exit! Come on, we’re so close!”

“We might make it! We actually might escape this!” The brother chuckled as the two rushed towards a portal upon a mighty altar.

But as they advanced, the altar began to grow faded and blurry, and a distinct ringing noise filled the ears of the two would be escapees. They skidded to a halt and backed away from the altar in terror as a tall, slender figure emerged from the static surrounding the portal. He bore no face, and wore a black suit with a red tie. His skin was as pale as death, and shadows gathered at his back.

“Slenderman!” The two runaways gasped, recoiling away from the imposing figure. But stepping back, the two were aggressively reminded of their pursuer. A shriek made them turn on their heels, and the color drained from their faces at the realization that they were caught between two of the most infamous monsters in this nightmarish world; The Rake, and the feared Slenderman.

“Oh shit,” The brother swore, frantically looking around for an escape. “There goes our chance.”

The sister looked past her brother and saw an open vent shaft in the wall. With their escape attempt thwarted again, their only recourse left was to get out of the monster’s territory, and that shaft would at the very least give them reprieve from Slenderman and the Rake.

“Come on, we can try again later!” The sister shouted, shoving her brother towards the vent, sprinting as fast as their legs could carry them as the Rake barreled towards them.

The two soon to be escapees managed to climb into the vents just in the nick of time to avoid the emaciated monster behind them, and the sister pulled the vent covering up to hold it off from following them.

“Move! Move! This thing won't hold for very long!” She barked, pushing her brother through the shaft until the two of them were out of sight from the monsters.

However, as they fled, they deprived themselves of bearing witness to a truly inhuman display, even for a monster as infamous as the Slenderman. The tall figure watched the escapees flee, and stared blankly as the Rake gave up its mindless chase and stalked away from the vent. Slenderman tilted his head to the emaciated monster, as if to ask it a question, but the infamous creature just continued on its way.

Slenderman glowered for but a moment, then turned his attention to the portal the two siblings had attempted to escape from. A portal out of this nightmarish realm and out into the real world.

Slenderman extended a pale hand out to the portal. What a strange realm, this world was. Monsters like and unlike himself roamed, but not freely and not without consequence. This was not a world of hunting and surviving. It was organized and relatively stable. There were so many people out in this world, people who were fully unaware of this realm's existence. People who would make the perfect victims of this neverending nightmare.

Extending his tendrils into the portal, Slenderman altered the state of this rift between realms. He forced open tears into the real world, opening up the promise of more victims to hunt. Who would be the first to fall victim to these portals? Who would be the first of the unfortunate souls to be trapped here? Who would join the hordes of runaways in their futile attempts to escape this dangerous game?

***

“One paddle, paddle, paddle, two paddle, paddle, paddle…” Spyper yawned listlessly, watching as the ball repeatedly hit the paddleboard. He was lounged back lazily on a couch, sitting across from Intelligent Heavy as he deconstructed an N64 console that Jester had given them.

The two Freaks were four months into their house arrest, only a few days away from finally being let off the hook. Both Freaks wore heavy bands around their ankles, anchors to keep them inside at all times that would alert HECU if either of them so much as stepped foot out the door.

“I’m bored,” Spyper sighed heavily, finally letting his paddle streak end as his arms fell to his sides. “I never knew how boring it could be just staying home, but now I do, and I want it to be over!”

“It’ll be over in a few days,” Intelligent assured, smiling at his friend.

“Why can’t it be over now?” Spyper groaned, slouching further into the sofa. He sighed and slid off the couch. “I’m getting a drink.”

“Bring me the leftover pizza while you’re in there,” Intelligent called. Spyper nodded and gave the Heavy a thumbs up as he headed for the kitchen.

A knock at the door suddenly drew the attention of the two Freaks. Intelligent set aside the dismantled N64 and headed for the door.

“Who is it?”

“It’s us!” Jester's cheery voice called out. “We brought cake!”

“They dragged me along since I really had nothing better to do,” Pancakes called out.

Intelligent opened the door to see Jester, Pancakes, and Chaos standing at the door. He smiled and let the three inside.

“So, how’s house arrest working for ya guys?” Jester asked, setting the cake they were carrying on a nearby table.

Spyper let out a loud groan and hung his head back.

“That bad?” Chaos questioned as she walked into the kitchen.

“I got lucky. I mean, it sucked being restricted to my can in RED Spawn for a month. But on the bright side, Painis doesn’t really bother with the can unless meals are scarce.” Pancakes stretched.

“Hey, at least you guys are off the hook in a few days, right?” Jester asked, hacking off a slice of the cake and handing it to Intelligent.

“Mhm. One more week of this, and we’ll be free to go.”

“That’s good to hear!” Jester smiled. “Did you guys like the console I sent you?”

“Well…” Intelligent glanced over to the deconstructed N64. “In a way: Yes.”

While the rest of the group was talking, Pancakes let his eyes wander for a moment before noticing a small light in the house.

“Yo intelligent, when did you make a teleporter like that?” Pancakes pointed it out.

“Huh? I didn’t…” Intelligent looked at the glowing orb.

“Than… what is it doing here?” Chaos started to approach the ball of light.

“What even is it?” Jester quizzed, floating after Chaos.

“Do I look like an expert on random glowing objects?” Chaos bit.

“I don’t think you three should be getting that close to it,” Intelligent warned.

“It’s not like some-” Before Pancakes could finish his sentence a large black tendril shot out from the ball of light and wrapped around his arm.

“WHAT THE FUCK!?” He screamed. He grabbed the tendril and tried to pry it off to no avail. “GET IT OFF!”

Before Chaos and Jester could jump in to help, two more tendrils burst from the light, grabbing the two Freaks.

“What the hell!?” Chaos gasped with strain.

“Intelligent! Spyper! Help!” Jester cried, struggling in the tendrils grip.

The three Freaks screamed as the tendrils lifted them into the air, and the ball of light they came from expanded outward rapidly. In a blinding flash of light, it engulfed the Freaks and snapped out of existence with a sharp cry, taking the Freaks with it.

As the light faded, panic filled the two Freaks left standing there to witness their friends being dragged away by another force.

“Oh fuck oh fuck oh FUCK!” Spyper screamed, staring and gesticulating wildly at where the Freaks had just been. “What the fuck just happened - Intelligent!?”

“Don’t look at me!” Intelligent explained, just as baffled as Spyper.

“Oh god, what do we do!? They just got nabbed by tentacles from another dimension!” Spyper cried, throwing up in hands in panic.

“We need help for this,” Intelligent gulped. He threw aside his cake and ran for the door, causing Spyper to stumble after him.

“Woah - WOAH! What are you doing!?”

“Getting HECU’s attention! Now move!” Intelligent grunted. He pushed his friend outside and marched out the door. He flinched as soon as he was out the door, as the band around his ankle began beeping loudly and flashing, alerting HECU that the detained Freaks were breaking their house arrest.

“This can only end badly,” Spyper fretted, staring at his friend in shock and alarm.

“I really hope HECU knows how to help us,” Intelligent gulped, watching for HECU vehicles to start coming down the road.

“And what if they can’t?” Spyper implored earnestly.

“Let's hope they do.”

“Yeah, cause that’s reassuring.” He glanced down at his own band and sighed. “Oh well. We’ve already broken the law. What’s one more?” He muttered, joining his friend outside.

***

“Only a couple more months… If only those months came faster.” RED groaned laying on his back looking up in his prison cell.

“We’ll get through it, RED,” Pure assured, sitting in a cell across from RED. “We’ve made it this far.”

“I know. At least the food here is good, just really boring.”

“It’s better than whatever Brutal cooks,” Pure shrugged.

“I honestly thought this place would be a million times worse. Who knew that prison for Freaks was just Rehab level 2.”

“Yeah, I really wasn’t expecting the rehab part,” Pure said, looking down the hall.

“Better than normal prison at least.”

“How do you think the others are fairing?” Pure asked, leaning forward on his bed. “I hope none of them have gotten into trouble since we were arrested.”

“Well, Brutal and Gentle are in Rehab 1.0, So there’s the two trouble makers out of the picture.”

“And I’m sure Polite, Spyper, and Intelligent are abiding by their house arrest. Pancakes...I’m holding out hope for him, but I’m not entirely convinced he’s stayed in his can for that long.”

“And we don’t have to worry about Jester and Chaos,” RED grunted as he stretched. “At least, I hope we don’t.”

“Chaos just found out that she still has a living family and the remainder of her team is still alive. I’m sure that someone is looking after her,” Pure remarked pointedly, pressing his hands together.

“I’m not too worried about Jester. They’re too busy with piecing together their past,” RED yawned, reclining on his bed. “And they’ve learned a lot in the time since being released. They and Chaos will be fine.”

As RED reclined, Pure happened to notice a ball of light appear next to the bed.

“What in the world?”

“Huh?” RED lifted his head. “What is it?”

“There’s this...Light next to your bed,” Pure said hesitantly, squinting at the shimmer. “Don’t get close to it. I don’t know what that thing is-”

A shrill scream tore through the relative silence of the cells and Pure leapt from his bed in shock, a pale dread overtaking his face as he watched black tendrils erupt from RED’s bed and ensnare him, locking him tightly in place as it slowly dragged him down.

Muffled screams escaped from the tendrils as they engulfed him and dragged him into the small light, terror filling the very air around them.

“RED!” Pure screamed, throwing himself against the glass screen of his cell. “Guards! GUARDS! HELP! Something’s happened to RED!” He cried desperately. He frantically looked about his cell for anything to use to get himself out, but he barely had time to search his nightstand when another set of tendrils burst from the ground beneath him and wrapped around his legs, immobilizing him. Pure gasped in terror as the tendrils dragged him downward, and his terrified cries for help echoed through the halls as he was violently pulled into a small light.

As the light disappeared, a small camera focused on the spot where the two spies were taken. On the other side of the lens, on a monitor in HECU, a young intern sat baffled and mortified by the events her bright green eyes had just seen. She swallowed hard and leaned back in her chair, stricken pale. She brushed a strand of her brown, curling locks aside, a strand of purple bleeding into her natural hair color. Then she frantically snatched up her pager and started running for the door, quickly turning the channel on the pager to that of Commander Rudra.

“Commander! Commander, come in! We have a security breach, I repeat we have a security breach! Christian Pure Spy and RED Spy have just disappeared into thin air! We need backup here!” She gasped, fumbling with the doorknob. “Black tendrils just came out of nowhere and grabbed them, then dragged them to who knows where! Please, Rudra, we need some help here! We’re dealing with something supernatural here!”

The intern flew out of the security room and started sprinting through the halls, weaving between guards and officers in her panicked sprint to Rudra’s office.

However, she didn’t have to run far before she collided with the commander herself, receiving a facefull of metal plating from Rudra’s heavy armor before staggering back, nearly falling squarely on her rear end and no doubt receiving a bruise or two from the collision.

“Now what’s going on?” Rudra asked sternly, lowering her pager. “What’s this about a security breach?”

“There were these long black tendrils that emerged from this ball of light in their cell that dragged RED and Pure into it! It was like something from a horror game!” The intern exclaimed, tripping over her own words in her frantic retelling of the events.

“Slow down, Ash,” Rudra said cooly, raising a hand to Ashley. “Did anyone else see this?”

“Everyone else is out on break,” She wheezed, her breaths still forced and panicked.

“The one time we don’t need them on break,” Rudra whispered under her breath. “And you managed to get it on camera?”

“Yeah, everything’s been recorded,” Ashley gulped.

“Good. We can look over the footage and see what happened. We could be dealing with something interdimensional here. I’ll give Jester a call if that’s the case.”

Before Rudra could get her phone out to call Jester, Ash screamed as something grabbed her. The black tendrils she had described suddenly wrapped around her legs and chest, immobilizing her and rooting her to the spot.

“AH! Rudra, HELP!” Ash screamed, thrashing to free herself from their grip.

“Hold still!” Rudra barked. She drew her flaming sword and grabbed ahold of the thick tendrils around Ash’s abdomen and began slicing, fighting to keep the lashing appendages still as she cut them down.

Ash’s screaming and the hiss of Rudra’s sword drew the attention of nearby officers and like clockwork, several guards jumped to tear Ash free of the lashing vines.

“Come on, come on! What are these things made out of!?” Rudra hissed through gritted teeth, struggling to tear the tendrils away from Ash.

One of the tendrils grabbed a Soldier and dragged them forwards and into a much larger light. Many of the officers swiftly jumped to keep the Soldier from being dragged into the light, but the tendrils were far too strong to overcome, and the Soldier was swiftly swallowed whole by the orb.

This set off a chain reaction of several of the officers, soldiers, guards, and interns around being dragged screaming into the light, all the while Rudra held fast to Ash, tearing and slicing at the tendrils in her attempts to keep the woman out of the lights grasp.

“What’s going on!?” Ash screamed, thrashing about in her binds.

“I don’t know!” Rudra exclaimed. “Just don’t let go of me!”

“I can’t! I’m slipping!” Ash gasped, trying to dig her heels into the floor to no avail.

Around the corner, Noir has finally made it to the scene when Ash fully lost her footing, only being held back by Rudra’s strength alone.

“Noir! Help me here!” Rudra shouted, holding tight to Ash.

“Hang in there, I’m coming!” Noir cried, sprinting over to the two and grabbing a hold of Ash. “Don’t worry, we’re gonna get you out of this!” She strained, digging her heels into the floor. “Jesus, what is this thing!?”

“We don’t know! Whatever it is, it's not going to give up easily!”

“No shit it’s not giving up!” Noir wrapped an arm around Ash and tried to strong arm her out of the monster's grip.

“I can’t hold on for much longer!” Ash screamed, digging her nails into Rudra’s armor.

“Don’t you dare let go!” Noir barked, straining her entire body to keep Ash afloat.

“Come on, come on!” Rudra hissed through gritted teeth. Her metal sollerets screeched across the floor as she and Ash were slowly dragged towards the light, leaving noticeable white scars in the ground.

As the three women fought against the otherworldly force that threatened to drag them all into its clutches, two stray tendrils emerged from the light and snaked along the floor, wrapping themselves like spiders around Rudra’s legs. With one powerful tug, the tendrils threw the angel off balance. Noir was sent collapsing to the floor as Ash and Rudra were yanked out of her grasp, and a deafening scream tore through her throat as the small light engulfed the intern and her wife in the blink of an eye.

“NO! RUDRA!” Noir shrieked. She leapt to her feet and scrambled to where the light had been, frantically searching for that shimmering rift between worlds. However, just like Rudra and Ash, the light had vanished into thin air, leaving nothing behind but the white streaks in the tile floor.

“Oh god, oh god. Tyson! TYSON! SOUND THE ALARM! RUDRA’S GONE! SHE’S BEEN TAKEN! SHE’S GONE!” She cried in blind and hysterical panic, sprinting down the hall in terror.

Within minutes, all of HECU had been sent into chaos. A commander had been dragged into some kind of interdimensional rift, along with countless HECU employees. Alarms were sounded as news of the disappearance spread, and the news that Freaks had vanished thanks to this same anomaly only furthered the madness HECU was spiralling in.

However, things only got worse when two of the most infamous Freaks vanished from HECU’s containment facility.

***

Deep below ground, in a heavily fortified cell, Gentlespy and Christian Brutal Sniper sat in their respective lounging chairs, cables and wires hooked up to every part of them like some kind of battery. These cables and wires kept them in their seats, restricting their movement and ensuring the safety of all who stepped into their chambers. A small white table and chair were sat across from them, along with a straightlaced doctor who calmly tapped a pen against his clipboard.

This doctor had been assigned to the two Freaks when they had first been sent in for institutionalization, and it was this man's job to shape Brutal and Gentle into law-abiding Freaks like Madic. However, for all this man's training, he had hit several brick walls in regards to the Freaks in front of him. Brutal and Gentle clearly wanted nothing to do with institutionalization and stubbornly resisted the doctors attempts at changing their perspective or altering their homicidal tendencies, and had driven this doctor to the point of exhaustion with their bullheaded resistance.

“Take number 273, You two have murdered hundreds of mercenary and non-mercenaries alike. We at HECU would like to offer you an alternative to your murderous ways,” The doctor started, already seeing the bored and annoyed expressions on their faces.

“You aren’t leaving this room until you comply or the higher ups agree to let you go. So are you going to rot down here or actually have a chance of leaving here?”

“I’d prefer to break down that door and get back to my old life,” Brutal scowled, tugging on the cables around him to make a point.

“You go back to your old life, and you’ll be sent straight to prison. Would you rather at least try to be better, or would you rather be locked up somewhere?”

“Oh gee, lets see....Eenie meenie miney…Neither. You aren’t gonna magically change us. You haven’t been able to change our minds the last 272 times, what makes you think we’ll listen this time?”

“I was hoping you would have changed your perspective-”

Brutal interrupted him with a hearty laugh. “You’re fun. Annoying, but fun.”

“This isn’t a game, you two,” The doctor groaned incredulously.

“It is. A game of endurance,” Gentle chuckled, examining the quicks of his nails.

“If I were not here to try and help you two, I’d smack you both,” The doctor bit.

“Can’t help people who don’t want it,” Gentle cajoled jeeringly.

“Then what’s the point of me trying to help you?”

“That’s what we’ve been asking since we got here,” Brutal grumbled, shuffling in his seat. “Got a smoke?”

“We don’t bring cigars in here,” The doctor scowled, rubbing his eyes.

“Figures,” Brutal sighed.

The three swiftly turned their attention to the blaring alarm outside, and the Institution Center was filled with bright, flashing red lights as the intercom flared to life.

Warning: Interdimensional rifts discovered in HECU Headquarters and Evo City. Several Freaks and personnel have vanished into these rifts. All non militant employees are to gather in the courtyard. Everyone else: Please make your way to the Engineering Department.

“Well...Shit,” Brutal groaned. “Interdimensional rifts that are stealing people. This is what, only four months after Grave?”

“We have a habit of getting the short end of the stick,” Gentle sighed, rubbing his temples.

The doctor stood and headed for the door. “You two stay here. I need to find Dr. Liss.”

“Don’t worry, it's not like we can go anywhere,” Brutal jeered incredulously, holding up all the cables that held him back and shaking them around.

While the two sat there, a light appeared behind Gentle. It was dull and small, hardly noticeable even if the two Freaks could look back to see it.

“Hey, Gentle, you have a smoke?” Brutal asked listlessly, cracking his neck.

“For the last time; They took my cigar case,” Gentle groused, rolling his eyes.

“Would have thought you’d have stolen it back by now.”

“It’s hard to steal anything when I’m wrapped up in these - WHAT THE FUCK!?” Gentles jeer warped into a shrill scream as writhing tendrils of shadow erupted from behind his chair and ensnared him, tangling around the cables and wires that held him in place. Brutal jumped to his friends aid, but another set of twitching vines reached out and grabbed him, too.

“What the fuck is this!?” Brutal gasped with strangled breath, the tendrils wrapping around his chest and neck and violently pulling him back against his chair.

Gentle tried to struggle out of the grasp, only to be pulled into the light as the wires were ripped off the machines. Brutal followed behind him, dragged into the gaping maw that the tendrils had emerged from. It was like hell itself was pulling them in.

And when the doctor returned upon hearing their screams, the alarm that Christian Brutal Sniper and Gentlespy were gone sounded, joining the panic that had engulfed HECU.

#Slender Freaks #Chaos Kin #Count Jester #christian brutal sniper #Christian pure spy #FF2 Ass Pancakes #FF2 #Slender Fortress #Rudra #Lady Noir #Spyper #Intelligent Heavy

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shadowofthelamp · 3 years

Text

Partners

Swap Zim and Dib decide to work together. Technically a direct sequel to this thing that was posted a year and a half ago. Like, comments, and reblogs all super appreciated!

Wordcount: 1800

Warnings: Mentions of Dib experimenting on people, I guess?

Zim woke up strapped to a lab table that smelled so strongly of blood that he almost threw up. (Which was quite an accomplishment, considering it wasn’t like Zim was a stranger to animal test subjects, or even getting himself injured.) It took him a few seconds to remember why he was strapped to a bloody lab table, but hearing the familiar voice frantically muttering next to him helped.

“Come on, I need to kill him, but it’s Zim, I like Zim, I don’t want to kill him, but he’s a threat to the mission, I can’t upset my Tallest or the Professor, but maybe I could just wipe his memory...”

That voice was Dib. Dib, the stalker who had turned out to be a real live alien. Dib, the kid (was he a kid?) who must have strapped him to a table.

_____

It had started out pretty easy- he’d already known where Dib lived from the one time Dib had dragged him there when they’d both gotten caught in an explosion and he’d wanted to help patch Zim up. All Zim had to do was use a taser to short out the electric fence and some hacking to get in the front door once he found the security frequency they were using.

It was child’s play, although it wasn’t like it would be easy for anybody else. Zim was special. He was always special, always better than everyone else. Dib had seen that. As annoying as he got at times, Zim was glad that at least he was annoying because he liked Zim.

However, things had started to go south as soon as he got inside the front door. There was a chubby little pig perched right next to it, and it sniffed at him before its eyes lit up bright red.

“STATE YOUR BUSINESS.”

“You talk?” It looked like a regular pig to him, usually talking animals were a lot clunkier and more robotic-looking.

“IRRELEVANT. STATE YOUR BUSINESS, HUMAN.”

“Seeing Dib.”

“NONE MAY PASS.” The pig jolted up on two legs, and Zim noticed a small zipper on its belly only moments before the pig grasped at it, yanking it down and ripping off its- costume? It didn’t look like any fabric Zim had ever seen- to reveal a silvery robot with burning red eyes. A dozen weapons, mostly guns and knives, popped out from its head, and Zim couldn’t bite back a yelp as he fumbled in his backpack for his own laser gun.

“I know how to use this thing, you know!”

“ANY THREAT TO THE MISSION AND TO MASTER GAZ MUST BE ELIMINATED.”

Zim squeezed the trigger, but the robot- okay, it moved way too fast for a robot that size, Zim’s tended to blow up if they tried any fancy acrobatics, but this one flipped out of the way, his laser blasting a hole in the wallpaper instead.

He took half a second to breathe before squeezing the trigger again and swinging it around, burning a line through the wall and couch before hitting the robot and getting a metallic shriek out of it as it lunged for him, pinning him down by the shoulders and making him drop his laser.

“ELIMINATED. ELIMINATED. ELMINATED.”

“Release Zim!” Zim kicked up and heard a metallic crack before he rolled to the side, thankful for those self-defense classes he’d taken as the robot plunged about fifteen knives into the spot where his head had been half a second ago. The red eyes narrowed at him before activating rockets in its feet, and Zim ducked as it swung with a giant mallet from its head. He dropped to the floor, fumbling for the laser and swinging it around to take another shot at the thing.

The gun managed to blast one of the arms off, but that sure as hell made it mad considering he didn’t have time to dodge the second swing of the mallet. He saw stars for half a second before there was nothing at all.

_____

“Dib,” Zim croaked, head feeling rather like it was full of rats that had thrown a dance party inside his skull and left a mess all over the cerebral cortex.

“But this is a perfect opportunity for some experiments, you wanted that, didn’t you Dib- huh?” Dib looked up from muttering to himself.

Or rather, the alien did. It was still wearing Dib’s trademark goggles that looked heavy enough to weigh his head down with lenses too dark to see anything underneath, but its skin was an even darker shade of green, and it had a pair of twitchy antennae. No nose, no ears, and it had donned a full-on labcoat that was soaked in a whole lot of red and black stains. He’d always kind of figured aliens were real somewhere out there, but seeing it... it was like reality had tilted a little to the left. There were more pressing matters than a crisis about aliens existing anyhow, and Zim was pretty good at repressing things he didn’t like.

It sounded like Dib, though, and the way it fussed with its hands was the same with two fingers and one thumb on each, same as Dib. ‘Machine accident’, his ass.

“You’re awake?”

“Y-yes, I’m awake. Could you let me go?” His voice came out sickly-sweet and polite, like he was talking to the counselor again to convince her that he was fine.

Dib-alien shook his head. “I’m afraid not. I really would like to, but you know too much. Protocol is pretty clear- dispose of or brainwash all witnesses when the planet is marked for conquest. But brainwashing knocks out a lot of the intelligence, and that would be such a waste, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes, yes it would,” Zim agreed. “So let me off with a warning?”

Dib folded his arms. “Nope. But the fact that you actually held your own against a SIR unit for a full minute as a smeet- and one that I modified to be extra aggressive- just tells me that you’re still useful as a specimen.”

“Hey, I’m not a- a- smeeb!”

“Smeet, child, baby, whatever term it is you humans use.” Dib waved a dismissive hand, stalking closer and looming over Zim. His eyes were a deep, electric blue like an unsucked sour candy, and Zim squirmed under the restraints. “That table is where most of my previous experiments died, and I don’t want you to just be number thirty-six, you know?”

“Thirty-six? Thirty-six what?”

“Oh, this and that. Humans are good for experiments, they’re very determined to survive so you don��t have to use as many.”

“Well, so is Zim.” Zim tried to twist away, but something metallic erupted from Dib’s backpack like a dozen sharp insectoid legs, propelling him up onto the lab table before he dropped directly on Zim’s chest, driving the wind out of him.

“I’m well aware. You’re already a survivor, aren’t you?” He ticked off on his fingers, alien butt shifting on top of Zim a bit to get comfortable. “Barely any parental supervision, yet you create machines and work on biological experiments that are beyond the capability of most humans three times your age. You almost get blown up often and yet walk away from it. You’re an anomaly.” Dib leaned closer, and Zim could taste the sugar on his breath. “I like anomalies.”

Zim attempted to buck Dib off to no avail as he continued. “Find the exception and you’ll have found the thing of most interest, the thing that makes or breaks a species. The outlier the proves the rule, and you’re a human that behaves like an irken, showing just how far ahead of the rest of your species you are. According to my research, they’re going to burn when Gaz decides what to do with this place if they don’t destroy each other before she gets around to it, but I just might keep you as a pet.”

“Zim is no pet!” Even with little oxygen left in his lungs, Zim shouted, snarling up at Dib with his lip curled. “Earth may be terrible, but it’s mine, so back off!”

“Oh? So you agree that Earth is terrible?” Dib tilted his head to the side, one of those long antennae twitching, and Zim narrowed his eyes.

“You’re not very good at research, are you? Of course it is! But it’s mine, and I don’t want any buggy alien getting his sticky hands all over it!”

“It’s not exactly up to me,” Dib replied, hearing the wheeze in Zim’s voice and sliding off his chest to the table itself, and Zim sucked in a deep breath, feeling the air reinflate his squashed lungs. “Gaz is the one who’s actually invading, I’m just here to study the planet in case there’s anything useful. You’re a pre-contact planet, or at least that’s what’s logged, so this place is a treasure trove of undiscovered species. I’m trying to convince Gaz to at least set up a preserve so I can study some of them once she’s done with the invasion.”

“Are you even listening to me? I told you to bug off! Leave me and Earth alone!”

“I’m listening, but I told you, it’s not my call. Even if it was... you said it yourself, Earth is terrible. It would be far more useful to the Empire as a sugar-harvesting operation, or a zoo, or something else. Humans don’t really deserve to be in charge, they’re just going to blow themselves up eventually.” Dib shrugged.

“If I was in charge, you wouldn’t say that,” Zim muttered, and Dib’s antenna twitched again.

“What did you say?”

“I said, if I was in charge, you wouldn’t say that. I bet if everybody listened to me, you’d take that back. I’m a human and I know I could fix everything.”

Dib stared at him for a solid ten seconds, and Zim wasn’t sure he hadn’t spontaneously kicked the bucket. Did aliens do that? “You’re a genius. You’re a genius!”

“Of course I am, but why?”

Dib smacked his hands on Zim’s cheeks, squishing his mouth in like a goldfish. “Of course, how didn’t I see it before? Your potential is stifled by the fact that you only have access to tools that you create, but if we worked together, you could help us because you have intimate knowledge of humanity, and I could help you by giving you limited access to my technology! We could be lab partners- I wouldn’t have to kill you, and you can help reshape your species for a better future!”

Zim blinked. “Does this mean you aren’t going to do horrible experiments on me?”

“I can’t promise that, but I’m not going to kill you right now.”

“Good enough for me!” Zim tried to shake Dib’s hand, before realizing that he was still restrained to the table. Dib leaned over, hitting a button just next to Zim’s head, and the restraints popped off. Zim rubbed his wrists for a moment as he sat up, mind still whirling.

This was a chance to fix everything, to make things the way that they should be.

“So, you won’t kill all humans, and you’ll give me access to cool tech.”

“I’ll consider your input on that, and I’ll give you access to cool tech.” Dib nodded, taking Zim’s hand, and a slow grin spread across Zim’s face.

“Then lead the way, Dib-thing.”

#aip swap au #invader zim #screw it main tag for once #iz blogging #iz #aip #shadow writes stuff

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my-own-oracle · 4 years

Text

Sparring

🥊This was a request: TFP megaton with a crush (soon to be SO) who was a champion in the gladiatorial arena. Maybe a confession and sparring?

🥊Megatron stood among the upcoming competitors watching the current match. The two newcomers were fighting for a spot in the end tournament. Joltsteal, the bigger of the two, was the favorite to win. His superior size, along with his two swords, made him quite the fearsome opponent. The other was the smaller yet no less fierce (Y/N), an old friend Megatron had known from his time in the mines. While this femme was of smaller stature, she was still quite strong, and even more importantly, she was intelligent. She had used her superior agility and the fact her opponents consisted of idiots to get far in the arena's challenges. Consistently toppling opponents bigger than most believed she could.

Megatron had met her in the minds, working long hours by her side. She had captured his attention, her wits and bright ideas, her spark and determination. He grew to care for the femme that seemed too small for the mines, too bright to be shut away in the caverns, and strong enough to prevent the people she cared for to come to harm. Even after he had escaped, fleeing to the pits and rising above the horrible conditions he had been born into, he thought of (Y/N). And once he had made a name for himself, he went back.

Megatron had told her she could get far in the pits, he was glad she had taken his advice and gotten out of those mining death traps. The gladiator watched as (Y/N) clashes her weapon against the brute of an opponent who kept swinging his swords around like a moron. He had gotten in only a few hits, leaving only a dent to two before he was pinned. (Y/N) standing atop his chassis, her blade near his spark chamber. The stands erupted, with Mechs and Femmes cheering. None cheering louder then Megatron himself.

Orion had convinced him to go find you after the tournament had ended. His best friend picked up on Megatron's small infatuation with his friend from the mines.

"go talk to her Megatronus," the archives had insisted. "Perhaps you can help her prepare for the upcoming events? Or perhaps she could question you on the volume at which you spark hums when you're around her." Megatron had given Orion the best glare he could before walking off to the underbelly of the pits.

He found you in the sparing chambers of the pits clicks later, You admiring your new dents.

"How does it feel to have made it to the big times, little one?" You glared at the grey and silver mech. The playfulness of the glare shining threw in your optics.

"Probably just as good as when you won your first fight, old mech." He found himself letting out a hardy laugh.

"Tomorrow you join us in the real tournament, are you ready?" Megatron walked over to the weapon stand picking up a practice sword. Twirling it about in his servos.

"I'm ready, and I'll win it too." Megatron loves hearing your confidence. The rebellious nature that got you in trouble in the mines was just the thing you needed fighting in the pits. And the thing that had endeared you to him in the first place. He watched as you shadow boxed your frame, jumping around the room.

"Don't get to far ahead of your self (Y/N), you forget I'll be out there too." The smile that crossed your faceplate should have been illegal

"Oh, Megatron, I haven't forgotten." You stood in a stance before him. "I just know I can beat you," his optic ridge raised itself,

"Oh, really?" He lowered himself into a fighting stance as well. Dropping the practice sword to the floor, "Care to prove yourself worthy of being my opponent?" The gleam in your optics leads him to lunge. Quickly you maneuvered out of his way rolling behind him. He knew your tactics. You would try to use your weight and momentum to throw his frame forward. It was the same tactic you had used in your first no weapons match.

"Be careful not to use the same move too much." Megatron dropped to the ground quickly, he watched as your frame soured over his before jumping back into his stance. "Your opponent will begin to expect it, then you are at a disadvantage." You tried a different variation of the same tactic trying to come at him on his right side. He quickly moved out of the way. The dance continued leading the mech to smile and begin to laugh. He heard you let out what sounded like a frustrated growl before you charged directly at him. 'At least it was something he hadn't been expecting,' he thought momentarily. You slammed your frame at a lower point on his. Trying to unbalance the mech who towered over you. He chuckled, bending over you, he grasped his arms around your middle and tossed you towards the edge of the sparring ring. Evidently, he had used more strength on you, then he had meant. Sending you tumbling rather than landing not so far away. He heard your frame scrape against the ground, your helm hitting the wall with a loud clang.

His spark felt cold all of a sudden, he had taken this spar to far. Instead of helping prepare you for your next few fights, he has sent you flying.

"(Y/N), my apologies-" He didn't know what to say. Quickly he went to your side, helping you up.

"Yeah, maybe I'm not as ready as I thought." You rubbed your helm slowly sitting up. He held out a servo, you gladly took the help getting to your pedes. You stood, servo still in Megatron's, his other servo coming up subconsciously to check your helm for dents and scrapes.

"Are you injured?"

"No, I'm alright."

"Good," he brought your servo to his dermas, a romantic gesture, especially for bots in the lower working class. You smiled, placing your free hand over his spark, feeling the hum that coursed through him.

"If I am intruding, I can return." you both turned to see Orion Pax standing at the entrance. "But Megatronus, we have been given permission to speak with the council. We should go as soon as possible." The mech smiled uncomfortably before turning to leave.

"Go- I'll see you after." And with a quick smile, Megatron turned to follow his old friend out. Today would mark a new era for him, he decided, an era in which you were by his side.

#megatron x reader #transformers megatron #cybertronian reader #tf megatron #transformers prime #megatron tfp #tfp optimus prime #tfp orion pax

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erin-bo-berin · 4 years

Text

The Perfect Home

MASTERLIST

This was an anon request for house hunting with Spencer and him talking about future kids. This was the cutest prompt and I loved writing this. It’s a bit shorter but I love how it turned out. Happy reading and happy Spencer feels.

Spencer Reid/Reader

Rating: G (fluff)

Word Count: 1,816

“Spencer, what was wrong with that one?”

“Eh, it just didn’t feel right.”

House hunting was something that was always a chore, but with your boyfriend Spencer in tow it had seemed to become an impossible task.

“Spence, we’ve looked at half a dozen houses and you’ve said almost the exact same thing every time,” you pointed out.

“I know, I know,” he chuckled, as he helped you out of the taxi, in front of the next house you were scheduled to look at.

“So then what’s the issue?” you huffed, following him up the sidewalk of the house.

“I just want it to be perfect.”

He took the key that the real estate agent had given him and opened the front door. Apparently, you had taken too long and the agent had to dash off to an appointment with another client.

Luckily, she was very understanding and had mentioned if you still hadn’t found the right house, she’d work to find you other options to look at. So far, all the houses you had seen had been stunning in your opinion. But then again, you both were going from a small apartment to an actual house.

The ironic thing about the two of you moving wasn’t because you were outgrowing his apartment—although technically you were—but the fact that you no longer had any room for both of your book collections. He had had his own bookshelves when you first moved in and you had added to the collection with your own books. The poor living room now had overflowing bookshelves and stacks of books everywhere you turned.

He had his collection of classics, some in different languages, technical books and lots of books you couldn’t even imagine cracking open without it putting you to sleep. But he loved them and that’s all that mattered.

On the other hand, you had all of your books. From fantasy to thriller, historical fiction to romance, you seemed to have a bit of everything. You typically read more fiction whereas your boyfriend definitely read more non-fiction.

Either way, it made for an impressive library if you did say so yourself.

The door of the house opened into a large foyer with wooden floors, a staircase off to the right and a gorgeous chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

“Wow,” you whispered, amazed.

“Not bad,” Spencer approved.

You sighed, half exasperated, half amused and followed him through into the house.

The foyer led back to the living room, which was huge.

“Now this would be able to fit our numerous bookshelves,” Spencer chuckled, looking around, “See we could put furniture there, the tv there and have bookshelves all the way around both sides of the room against the walls.”

“Okay, I see your point,” you nodded, imagining.

“Come on, the kitchen is through here.”

You followed him into the kitchen, where there was a table off to one side, filled with at least 6 chairs. In the middle of the kitchen, across from the sink was a large island. The stove and microwave was stainless steel, a fridge of the same metal would match it perfectly.

“This would be great to fix breakfasts and have all our kids lined up here where we can keep an eye on them.”

“All of them huh? Just exactly how many are you thinking?” you joked.

You and Spencer had talked about having kids one day. You knew he wanted a big family and you were okay with that. Being from a small family yourself, you liked the idea of having a big family. Just how many though, you hadn’t really discussed yet.

“I don’t know. Five or six,” he said, peering at you to gauge your reaction.

“I think I can handle that. As long as it isn’t all at once.”

“Well I was thinking we could try for twins or triplets,” he smirked.

“Then you’re having those all on your own,” you chuckled, “Twins, maybe. Triplets, definitely not.”

“But imagine it,” he said, “You fixing eggs and bacon, me fixing the coffee, the kids sitting at the island eating happily and chattering. Generally just being angels.”

“Angels? Your kids?” you smirked, moving back towards the hallway.

“Hey, I’m an angel!” he called after you.

You both walked upstairs to check out the bedrooms. You were a bit surprised when you realized it was a 4 bedroom, 3 bath house.

“Spencer, this is huge. Way too big for just us.”

You’d walked into one of the smaller bedrooms, looking around. Even though it was a small room, it was quite spacious.

“I know.”

He came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. His chin rested on the top of your head.

“It’s a pretty room,” you observed.

There was a window in the middle of the room that spilled sunlight into the room at just the right brightness.

“It would make a great nursery.”

You could hear the smile in his voice as he pulled away from you and walked over to one corner of the room.

“A crib right next to the wall, a rocking chair in the corner, a changing table on the opposite wall from the crib, maybe even a little bookshelf with all the little one’s books.”

You smiled, picturing his vision as well.

“Then there would be a basket for all of little one’s stuffed animals and of course there’d be bunnies, penguins and koalas,” he grinned.

Your boyfriend knew you well, remembering some of your favorite animals.

“What about the other rooms?” you asked curiously.

“Oh just you wait, follow me.”

You walked after him as you entered another room, similar to the first one, but with a slightly different layout.

“In here would be our twins.”

You give him a look.

“Or two closest in age,” he substituted, “There would be bunk beds in here, toys scattered everywhere, their own bookshelves, might I add.”

You chuckled, having to agree. Your future kids would definitely be surrounded by a lot of books just between the two of you.

“Can’t say I disagree.”

“What about the third room?”

“Ah, I’ve already thought about that.”

He walked out of the room, opening the door to the third bedroom. Once again, you followed him.

“Later down the road, this could be the eldest child’s room. With a big kid bed, their own toy chest, a little dresser for their clothes, maybe even a tv as they get older,” he beamed.

“So at this point, where would we put guests?” you laughed, amazed how he was picturing all of this on the spot.

You had to admit though, it was a really nice picture. One you’d like to make a reality someday.

“We have a couch don’t we?” he shrugged.

“Spencer!” you hit his arm playfully, “At least if we end up in a house like this, we’ll still have room for guests for a while. I’m not planning on four or five kids at once.”

“I may be good, but I’m not that good,” he mumbled.

You had to bite your lip to hold back a snort.

The two of you moved to the biggest room, the master bedroom. Connected to it was the master bath.

“Wow,” was all you could seem to say.

If you thought the other rooms were impressive, this was even more so.

There was room enough to fit a queen sized bed. On one side of the room was a built-in fireplace, a small corner nook perfect for a comfy chair to read in.

A window on the opposite side of the room was large and rectangular; it would look great with some pretty curtains that could be swept aside to let in the warm morning light. You were starting to see the appeal that Spencer was.

“Y/N!”

You looked behind you, not even realizing Spencer had disappeared.

“You have to see this bathroom!”

You shook your head, walking into the master bathroom where Spencer stood in amazement. You had to admit, it was definitely impressive. The floor and shower walls were white marble, the shower was a huge walk in with glass doors. Just next to it, was the all white bathroom counter and two sinks. Around a small corner was a jacuzzi bathtub as deep as it was wide.

“Ah jeez, I’m never gonna see you with a bathtub like that,” you commented.

Spencer loved baths, bathtubs, basically anything to do with baths. You didn’t see the appeal, although you weren’t exactly against them. Just seemed like too much work. Although this tub could likely change your mind.

“I doubt that because I’d be bringing you in with me,” he grinned, hugging you from behind again, kissing your cheek.

It amused you to no end how he could be so completely dirty while sounding so innocent.

You both were silent as you looked around for a minute.

“Can you imagine our kids?” he asked.

“I have before, but I definitely think they’d be adorable as long as they look like you,” you answered.

“Um, no. They’ll have their mommy’s eyes, their mommy’s adorable little nose and their mommy’s beauty. They’ll get my wit and intelligence.”

“Spence,” you chuckled, turning around to face him, “Don’t you want a little spitting image of you? The messy, loose curls, your eyes and the cute dimples.”

You could see him blush a little and you smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck. You couldn’t help but love when he got shy at anyone mentioning his good looks.

“Regardless of what they look like or who they look like, I know I will love them with all my heart. All 50 of them.”

“Fifty?!” Spencer laughed, his eyes crinkling, “I’m not that ambitious, Y/N.”

“I know, I’m just teasing,” you smiled up at him.

He put a hand on your face, stroking your cheek gently with his thumb.

“The reason I want a bigger house…” he trailed off, looking around the gorgeous room.

“Yeah? Why?” you prompted curiously.

“Because I want a family with you.”

“I want that too, you know that,” you agreed, smiling.

“I mean I want to start trying,” he emphasized, his hands moving to rest over your stomach.

You felt your stomach flutter. You had said many times before that you wanted a family and with Spencer, but the fact that it was becoming real filled you with happiness.

“Unless I’m alone on this,” he hesitated.

“No, no!” you shook your head quickly, “I want that too.”

“Yeah? You do?”

He bit his lip, trying to contain his smile, but you could see how happy it made him.

“Yes.”

His lips met yours and he kissed you so sweetly, holding you tightly.

When you pulled away, he took one last look around the room.

“So what do you think of this house?”

You could feel it in your heart.

“It’s perfect.”

Tag List: @dreatine @reid-187 @groovyreid @reidslibra @suvikamahes98blr @fuckthealarm @whatspunispun @iamburdened @cindywayne @thomasfoockinshelby @tinyminy88 @theitcaramelchick @missprettyboy @hushlilbabydoll @sammy-jo1977 @theonlyone-meeeee @haileymorelikestupid @lemonypink @multifandommandy

#spencer reid #Spencer Reid fic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fluff #dr spencer reid #dr spencer reid fic #dr spencer reid gifs #dr spencer reid smut #dr spencer reid fluff #spencer reid gifs #Criminal Minds #criminal minds gifs #criminal minds fic #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

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yourdesertsunflower · 4 years

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Chunin Exams: Shikamaru vs. Temari

So this will be long, so be ready for some deep diving. I’d been thinking this for quite a while so let’s go.

One of my favorite Chunin Exams’s match has to be Shikamaru vs. Temari. This may not be much of a surprise for any of you, but maybe the reason why it is between my top 3 will surprise more than one.

Obviously the ship factor made me like this battle even more, but it’s not even a primary or secondary reason for why I love this match. This battle stands out to me as being one of the most truthful ninja fights of the whole arc. Why? Because a ninja fight, as Kakashi would day during the Zabuza’s arc is about always plotting, to know when to do certain thing, to know when to not to do them and just hide and to work with the tools you have.

It’s a battle were the brains out beats the brute force, where the strength is the last resource and the strategy primes as the best thing a ninja can have. It about deciphering our opponent, carrying out the best strategy and ensuring the win as much as possible and both Shikamaru and Temari excel at being this masterminds. They make the most out of their battle and, in my opinion, they both shine through as not only capable but highly advanced strategists, specially for their short age.

That’s why when I hear people going like “No, she’s not.” when Asuma says that Temari she is bright and that she thinks like Shikamaru (she thinks ahead) or say that “Shikamaru could have easily beat Temari if he wasn’t that lazy” I just feel like crying.

However, it’s not people’s fault after all. The direction of the match in both the anime and the manga makes Shikamaru’s strategy the wow factor. I am not saying his tactic is not genius, I would be pretty lame if I said that, nor that Shikamaru is not more intelligent than Temari (He is the most brilliant person of his generation, specially when it comes to strategy) and he deserved the recognition because the tactic he carried through was slick af. It’s one of the many reason why Shikamaru is my absolute favorite character in Naruto (I love him so much).

However, I think that Shikamaru’s genius shouldn’t by any means diminish Temari’s wit. Because she was also delivering quite a good fight, she was a good match for Shikamaru (which ain’t easy) and (I personally think) had a pretty accurate strategy.

So, I gave myself the job of being Temari’s Asuma and explain in full detail what I think, through my reading, was Temari’s strategy. Because my girl deserves more recognition. She is a strategist and a really good one.

1. Context

One thing I think it’s important to mention before anything is the context of the match.

If we come to think about it, it wouldn’t be that far-fetched to say that Temari couldn’t waste that much chakra nor show new abilities in her fight against Shikamaru. Let’s remember that the Sand only participated in the Chunin Exams because of the attack, to execute the Konoha Crush. A plan for which the Sand Siblings, specially Gaara, were crucial. Even we get to see Kankuro forfeiting of his fight against Shino in order to keep his techniques a secret and wait for the time to make the move.

However Temari didn’t had the same luck. It would be suspicious if the two of them just gave up. My reading of the situation is that actually neither of them expected to fight their respective matches as Gaara’s match against Sasuke was before theirs. Still, if someone had to fight Temari knew that would be her because,

a. Kankuro was against Shino who had shown to be a beast, and hence, it was more likely that he would have to use higher tier attacks.

b. Temari showed to be quite confident of her skills and Shikamaru, though he had shown to be intelligent (not to the extent of this match but intelligent nonetheless) he was the weakest of the finalist in terms of raw strength.

So, Temari had to be the one to fight. Otherwise the plan would fall apart, and although she wasn’t sure about attacking from the start, she was extremely loyal to her village and would never do something to hurt it. However she couldn’t be imprudent, hence, she didn’t had to waste that much chakra in order not to tire herself that much and couldn’t show new wind style techniques as that would only weaken the surprise effect this might have (let’s remember she was in a stadium filled with highly capable Shinobi, Chunin and Jonin Level)

But although she couldn’t be imprudent, she also couldn’t let herself be defeated. After all, she is Temari. She had figure out a way to win despite the limitations she had which brings us to the fight itself.

2. First Movement: Gaining Information

The first thing Temari knows is that she needs some information about the match and the rival so she starts off by trying to get an action or a least a reaction from Shikamaru, which proved to be quite draining due to his usual unmotivated behavior.

The frontal and direct attacks of Temari at the beginning of the match serve that purpose.

Unlike her match against Tenten, where she could just start of in complete defensiveness she quickly realized that that wouldn’t work with Shikamaru. I am pretty sure Temari is one of those fighters who don’t like to make the first move but to wait and recollect information from her adversaries (after all i her battle against Tenten, in which she always seemed comfortable she did just that) but as she knew that couldn’t be the case as while Tenten is someone active, Shikamaru is more of reactive fighter she just attacked to get the necessary information to use with her previous knowledge (which I’ll also proceed to explain) to plan a strategy.

She knew from Shikamaru’s fight against Kin (the sound ninja) that it was quite likely that the Shadow Posession Jutsu had:

a. A range

b. Short duration spam.

c. Wasted to much chakra.

After all, Shikamaru was always shown to be pretty cautious about how and when he used it. That’s why the jutsu doesn’t seem much of a threat at the beginning as if she could manage to identify the range of his jutsu she could just stay away from it and make him waste chakra.

If to that we add that Shikamaru’s reaction was to hide she also gained a panorama of how the fight will be like. It’ll most likely be a long-lasting battle based more in indirect attacks and meticulously planning than in strength.

This seemed to match quite well, which justifies Temari’s smile as Shikamaru hides. At first glance stretching out the duration of the battle and fighting long-range was just perfect for her as she could save as much chakra as possible, dodging the attacks of Shikamaru while making him waste as much chakra as possible.

Hence, although Temari was overconfident (aspect I’ll talk about in more detail later) she had a reason to be so. She had a fairly strong plan,and everything seemed to be falling in the right place.

2. Identifying the Range and the Sun

The first attacks of Shikamaru just seem to work on perfectly for Temari as she achieves to find out her shadow range, a jaw-dropping fifteen meters thirty-two centimetres (like she is also a mathematician in her own right).

It’s then when Shikamaru shows her that there was one factor she hadn’t thought about before: the sun. When the shadow reaches a longer distance than it had already done she quickly deduces that as the sun sets the shadow of the wall was getting larger, hence elongating the shadow making his range bigger.

And Temari quickly adapts to the situation working out several plans she could use. She decides the better was keeping up with the angle and the direction from which the sun is hitting the wall and the growth in his shadow in order to be able to calculate an equation that would keep him away from his shadow.

This is good because while some may just freak out and try to use brute force to finish it, as seemingly stretching the match no longer holds any sense, Temari takes her time to think and finds a way to use her skills and knowledge in battle. This is no easy task, as we see that a lot of highly talented shinobis on paper had a tough time in practice. But she is so great that she comes up with a way that doesn’t directly throws the entire plan she had come up with to the trash.

3. Surprise Attack

Well I got to say this. I don’t like that Kankuro warns Temari about Shikamaru’s home-made parachute because I easily think that she could have realized by herself. She had shown all through the battle to have great observational skills and to be quite focused so I think that Kishimoto could have easily come up with that.

Still, I understand that Kishomoto through this fight tries to justify that Shikamaru was the one that would become a Chunin, so nerfing Temari isn’t the worst thing out of all. I don’t like it but isn’t that bad if we take into consideration the other thingd that were done in the manga.

However is through her ability to dodge this attack we get Asuma’s and Shikamaru’s reaction and recognition of Temari’s skills. She is a really good shinobi, quick, intelligent and competent.

Yes, Shikamaru had just gotten her in the position she wanted but what he said he truly meant it, which means a lot given his chauvinistic behavior at the begging of Naruto. She is fast learner, she is capable to dodge attacks that no regular genin could or as Shikamaru said in Naruto Ninja Storm 4 (yes, I usually hate most of the scenes in this game but this one ShikaTema scene was so sport on) that she was the first person of his age to be able dodge that many attacks from him, which leaves me to another point.

4. Moves Ahead

It’s almost a meme that Shikamaru has a 200 IQ and that he is 200 moves ahead everyone else but what I really think that people don’t understand is that for Shikamaru each an everyone of those moves, from the first one to the the two hundred, could be the last one. When Shikamaru plans out a strategy he may use some moves that are feints but those feints may also work to end the match to less skilled rivals. Each move works as an individual move as part of a whole. That is other level, is genius. Prove of the overtly exaggerated 200 IQ, almost everyone could seem dumb beside him.

However, the complexity of the strategy he used against Temari shows us that how knew that he needed to come up with something good in order to be able to beat her. She wouldn’t fall for something straightfoward because she showed to be several steps ahead also.

She had shown to easily decipher his jutsu’s range, she had found elements that could have served him as an advantage and she had been skillful enough to move around the field avoiding his jutsu with ease. And he knows that because

a. He had seen it,

b. She had told it to him, which I think was one of the biggest mistakes of Temari derived from her over-confidence.

That’s why his plan had to be slick in order to win which brings up the end of the match.

5. Checkmate

After seeing that Shikamaru’s shadow range was almost unlimited and that her chances of measuring it were incredibly low she then decides to end it once and for all because;

a. If she extended the match much longer it was almost inevitable that she will end up being caught by his shadow paralysis jutsu

b. She couldn’t risk to waste a lot of chakra since, I have already mentioned, it was indispensable she was in good conditions for the Konoha Crush.

But it’s interesting the movement she plans out in order to beat Shikamaru since it shows that she is very aware of her own tools and abilities and of the abilities of her rival. One clone will take the attention of him, falling in his shadows paralysis while she just bluntly beat him with her crushing wind style. Fairly simple, but also extremely effective.

When Shikamaru caught her and shows her his strategy Temari quickly understands what he had done. She had underestimated both his jutsu and his mind and that added with her over-confidence in her analysis was what gave Shikamaru the necessary information to caught her.

She is genuinely surprised as the rest of the crowd but they are even more when he gives up.

That was just a masterful decision of Kishimoto, I got to give him that, because it not only make Shikamaru be cool af for the audience, but also for two things that are lest often touched upon:

a. In terms of Shikamaru it showed the genius he is, the smartest person of his generation by far, capable of examining the situation and choose the best option to execute. He was running out of chakra while his rival was safe and sound. In a real life mission the best option is retreat, and that’s what he does. This is shows to Temari than he and Shikamaru are actually much more alike than she had thought. They both are rational thinkers, who measure cons and pros and are able to come up with a logical analysis but they are also pretty conscious of themselves and others. That’s what Asuma means when he says they think alike, that why they always seem to work along together despite their seemingly clashing personalities.

b. In terms of Temari she gets the bittersweet victory. She archived what she wanted, making him run out of chakra, but not how she wanted to do so. It is deserved and undeserved at the same time which conflicts her. If the battle had continued it was more than likely she had won as she wanted to but it didn’t which let her thinking that, if he could he could have easily beat her even though he states that not to be the reason. After all he had clearly outsmarted her, and that was what was the most important for her, despite her win was deserved in my opinion (not because she was more intelligent than him, because no one really is, but because, at the end, she managed with her wit and talent to make it impossible for him to continue). She thinks that her over-confidence and her analysis which she prides of, was the thing that took her down and that it’s quite important for her character and her relationships with others. We’ll get to see how this affected her in her following appearances, when we get to see her when she goes to fight against Tayuya she carefully listens to Shikamaru’s analysis, although at the end she decides to do it her way (an nails it), her decision was derived from her listing to his words and all he got to say.

At the end Temari will always be her wonderful confident self (that’s only another reason to love her) but after this match she shows to be more cautious when underestimating her rivals, however you shouldn’t dare underestimate her.

Because she is a f***ing boss.

#temari #shikamaru #shikatema #chuninexams #shikamaru x temari #shikamaru nara #nara #shikamaru vs temari #temari deserves better #she is amazing #protemari #chunin exams #opinion #anime #naruto

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grigori77 · 3 years

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2020 in Movies - My Top 30 Fave Movies (Part 2)

20. ONWARD – Disney and Pixar’s best digitally animated family feature of 2020 (beating the admittedly impressive Soul to the punch) clearly has a love of fantasy roleplay games like Dungeons & Dragons, its quirky modern-day AU take populated by fantastical races and creatures seemingly tailor-made for the geek crowd … needless to say, me and many of my friends absolutely loved it. That doesn’t mean that the classic Disney ideals of love, family and believing in yourself have been side-lined in favour of fan-service – this is as heartfelt, affecting and tearful as their previous standouts, albeit with plenty of literal magic added to the metaphorical kind. The central premise is a clever one – once upon a time, magic was commonplace, but over the years technology came along to make life easier, so that in the present day the various races (elves, centaurs, fauns, pixies, goblins and trolls among others) get along fine without it. Then timid elf Ian Lightfoot (Tom Holland) receives a wizard’s staff for his sixteenth birthday, a bequeathed gift from his father, who died before he was born, with instructions for a spell that could bring him back to life for one whole day. Encouraged by his brash, over-confident wannabe adventurer elder brother Barley (Chris Pratt), Ian tries it out, only for the spell to backfire, leaving them with the animated bottom half of their father and just 24 hours to find a means to restore the rest of him before time runs out. Cue an “epic quest” … needless to say, this is another top-notch offering from the original masters of the craft, a fun, affecting and thoroughly infectious family-friendly romp with a winning sense of humour and inspired, flawless world-building. Holland and Pratt are both fantastic, their instantly believable, ill-at-ease little/big brother chemistry effortlessly driving the story through its ingenious paces, and the ensuing emotional fireworks are hilarious and heart-breaking in equal measure, while there’s typically excellent support from Julia Louis-Dreyfus (Elaine from Seinfeld) as Ian and Barley’s put-upon but supportive mum, Laurel, Octavia Spencer as once-mighty adventurer-turned-restaurateur “Corey” the Manticore and Mel Rodriguez (Getting On, The Last Man On Earth) as overbearing centaur cop (and Laurel’s new boyfriend) Colt Bronco. The film marks the sophomore feature gig for Dan Scanlon, who debuted with 2013’s sequel Monsters University, and while that was enjoyable enough I ultimately found it non-essential – no such verdict can be levelled against THIS film, the writer-director delivering magnificently in all categories, while the animation team have outdone themselves in every scene, from the exquisite environments and character/creature designs to some fantastic (and frequently delightfully bonkers) set-pieces, while there’s a veritable riot of brilliant RPG in-jokes to delight geekier viewers (gelatinous cube! XD). Massive, unadulterated fun, frequently hilarious and absolutely BURSTING with Disney’s trademark heart, this was ALMOST my animated feature of the year. More on that later …

19. THE GENTLEMEN – Guy Ritchie’s been having a rough time with his last few movies (The Man From UNCLE didn’t do too bad but it wasn’t exactly a hit and was largely overlooked or simply ignored, while intended franchise-starter King Arthur: Legend of the Sword was largely derided and suffered badly on release, dying a quick death financially – it’s a shame on both counts, because I really liked them), so it’s nice to see him having some proper success with his latest, even if he has basically reverted to type to do it. Still, when his newest London gangster flick is THIS GOOD it seems churlish to quibble – this really is what he does best, bringing together a collection of colourful geezers and shaking up their status quo, then standing back and letting us enjoy the bloody, expletive-riddled results. This particularly motley crew is another winning selection, led by Matthew McConaughey as ruthlessly successful cannabis baron Mickey Pearson, who’s looking to retire from the game by selling off his massive and highly lucrative enterprise for a most tidy sum (some $400,000,000 to be precise) to up-and-coming fellow American ex-pat Matthew Berger (Succession’s Jeremy Strong, oozing sleazy charm), only for local Chinese triad Dry Eye (Crazy Rich Asians’ Henry Golding, chewing the scenery with enthusiasm) to start throwing spanners into the works with the intention of nabbing the deal for himself for a significant discount. Needless to say Mickey’s not about to let that happen … McConaughey is ON FIRE here, the best he’s been since Dallas Buyers Club in my opinion, clearly having great fun sinking his teeth into this rich character and Ritchie’s typically sparkling, razor-witted dialogue, and he’s ably supported by a quality ensemble cast, particularly co-star Charlie Hunnam as Mickey’s ice-cold, steel-nerved right-hand-man Raymond Smith, Downton Abbey’s Michelle Dockery as his classy, strong-willed wife Rosalind, Colin Farrell as a wise-cracking, quietly exasperated MMA trainer and small-time hood simply known as the Coach (who gets many of the film’s best lines), and, most notably, Hugh Grant as the film’s nominal narrator, thoroughly morally bankrupt private investigator Fletcher, who consistently steals the film. This is Guy Ritchie at his very best – a twisty rug-puller of a plot that constantly leaves you guessing, brilliantly observed and richly drawn characters you can’t help loving in spite of the fact there’s not a single hero among them, a deliciously unapologetic, politically incorrect sense of humour and a killer soundtrack. Getting the cinematic year off to a phenomenal start, it’s EASILY Ritchie’s best film since Sherlock Holmes, and a strong call-back to the heady days of Snatch (STILL my favourite) and Lock, Stock & Two Smoking Barrels. Here’s hoping he’s on a roll again, eh?

18. SPONTANEOUS – one of the year’s biggest under-the-radar surprise hits for me was one which I actually might not have caught if things had been a little more normal and ordered. Thankfully with all the lockdown and cinematic shutdown bollocks going on, this fantastically subversive and deeply satirical indie teen comedy horror came along at the perfect time, and I completely flipped out over it. Now those who know me know I don’t tend to gravitate towards teen cinema, but like all those other exceptions I’ve loved over the years, this one had a brilliantly compulsive hook I just couldn’t turn down – small-town high-schooler Mara (Knives Out and Netflix’ Cursed’s Katherine Langford) is your typical cool outsider kid, smart, snarky and just putting up with the scene until she can graduate and get as far away as possible … until one day in her senior year one of her classmates just inexplicably explodes. Like her peers, she’s shocked and she mourns, then starts to move on … until it happens again. As the death toll among the senior class begins to mount, it becomes clear something weird is going on, but Mara has other things on her mind because the crisis has, for her, had an unexpected benefit – without it she wouldn’t have fallen in love with like-minded oddball new kid Dylan (Lean On Pete and Words On Bathroom Walls’ Charlie Plummer). The future’s looking bright, but only if they can both live to see it … this is a wickedly intelligent film, powered by a skilfully executed script and a wonderfully likeable young cast who consistently steer their characters around the potential cliched pitfalls of this kind of cinema, while debuting writer-director Brian Duffield (already a rising star thanks to scripts for Underwater, The Babysitter and blacklist darling Jane Got a Gun among others) show he’s got as much talent and flair for crafting truly inspired cinema as he has for thinking it up in the first place, delivering some impressively offbeat set-pieces and several neat twists you frequently don’t see coming ahead of time. Langford and Plummer as a sassy, spicy pair who are easy to root for without ever getting cloying or sweet, while there’s glowing support from the likes of Hayley Law (Rioverdale, Altered Carbon, The New Romantic) as Mara’s best friend Tess, Piper Perabo and Transparent’s Rob Huebel as her increasingly concerned parents, and Insecure’s Yvonne Orji as Agent Rosetti, the beleaguered government employee sent to spearhead the investigation into exactly what’s happening to these kids. Quirky, offbeat and endlessly inventive, this is one of those interesting instances where I’m glad they pushed the horror elements into the background so we could concentrate on the comedy, but more importantly these wonderfully well-realised and vital characters – there are some skilfully executed shocks, but far more deep belly laughs, and there’s bucketloads of heart to eclipse the gore. Another winning debut from a talent I intend to watch with great interest in the future.

17. HAMILTON – arriving just as Black Lives Matter reached fever-pitch levels, this feature presentation of the runaway Broadway musical smash-hit could not have been better timed. Shot over three nights during the show’s 2016 run with the original cast and cut together with specially created “setup shots”, it’s an immersive experience that at once puts you right in amongst the audience (at times almost a character themselves, never seen but DEFINITELY heard) but also lets you experience the action up close. And what action – it’s an incredible show, a thoroughly fascinating piece of work that reads like something very staid and proper on paper (an all-encompassing biographical account of the life and times of American Founding Father Alexander Hamilton) but, in execution, becomes something very different and EXTREMELY vital. The execution certainly couldn’t be further from the usual period biopic fare this kind of historical subject matter usually gets (although in the face of recent high quality revisionist takes like Marie Antoinette, The Great and Tesla it’s not SO surprising), while the cast is not at all what you’d expect – with very few notable exceptions the cast is almost entirely people of colour, despite the fact that the real life individuals they’re playing were all very white indeed. Every single one of them is also an absolute revelation – the show’s writer-composer Lin-Manuel Miranda (already riding high on the success of In the Heights) carries the central role of Hamilton with effortless charm and raw star power, Leslie Odom Jr. (Smash, Murder On the Orient Express) is duplicitously complex as his constant nemesis Aaron Burr, Christopher Jackson (In the Heights, Moana, Bull) oozes integrity and nobility as his mentor and friend George Washington, Phillipa Soo is sweet and classy as his wife Eliza while Renée Elise Goldsberry (The Immortal Life of Henrietta Jacks, Altered Carbon) is fiery and statuesque as her sister Angelica Schuyler (the one who got away), and Jonathan Groff (Mindhunter) consistently steals every scene he’s in as fiendish yet childish fan favourite King George III, but the show (and the film) ultimately belongs to veritable powerhouse Daveed Diggs (Blindspotting, The Good Lord Bird) in a spectacular duel role, starting subtly but gaining scene-stealing momentum as French Revolutionary Gilbert du Motier, the Marquis de Lafayette, before EXPLODING onto the stage in the second half as indomitable third American President Thomas Jefferson. Not having seen the stage show, I was taken completely by surprise by this, revelling in its revisionist genius and offbeat, quirky hip-hop charm, spellbound by the skilful ease with which is takes the sometimes quite dull historical fact and skews it into something consistently entertaining and absorbing, transported by the catchy earworm musical numbers and thoroughly tickled by the delightfully cheeky sense of humour strung throughout (at least when I wasn’t having my heart broken by moments of raw dramatic power). Altogether it’s a pretty unique cinematic experience I wish I could have actually gotten to see on the big screen, and one I’ve consistently recommended to all my friends, even the ones who don’t usually like musicals. As far as I’m concerned it doesn’t need a proper Les Misérables style screen adaptation – this is about as perfect a presentation as the show could possibly hope for.

16. SPUTNIK – summer’s horror highlight (despite SERIOUSLY tough competition) was a guaranteed sleeper hit that I almost missed entirely, stumbling across the trailer one day on YouTube and getting bowled over by its potential, prompting me to hunt it down by any means necessary. The feature debut of Russian director Egor Abramenko, this first contact sci-fi chiller is about as far from E.T. as it’s possible to get, sharing some of the same DNA as Carpenter’s The Thing but proudly carving its own path with consummate skill and definitely signalling great things to come from its brand new helmer and relative unknown screenwriters Oleg Malovichko and Andrei Zolotarev. Oksana Akinshina (probably best known in the West for her powerful climactic cameo in The Bourne Supremacy) is the beating heart of the film as neurophysiologist Tatyana Yuryevna Klimova, brought in to aid in the investigation in the Russian wilderness circa 1983 after an orbital research mission goes horribly wrong. One of the cosmonauts dies horribly, while the other, Konstantin (The Duelist’s Pyotr Fyodorov) seems unharmed, but it quickly becomes clear that he’s now the host for something decidedly extraterrestrial and potentially terrifying, and as Tatyana becomes more deeply embroiled in her assignment she comes to realise that her superiors, particularly mysterious Red Army project leader Colonel Semiradov (The PyraMMMid’s Fyodor Bondarchuk), have far more insidious plans for Konstantin and his new “friend” than she could ever imagine. This is about as dark, intense and nightmarish as this particular sub-genre gets, a magnificently icky body horror that slowly builds its tension as we’re gradually exposed to the various truths and the awful gravity of the situation slowly reveals itself, punctuated by skilfully executed shocks and some particularly horrifying moments when the evils inflicted by the humans in charge prove far worse than anything the alien can do, while the ridiculously talented writers have a field day pulling the rug out from under us again and again, never going for the obvious twist and keeping us guessing right to the devastating ending, while the beautifully crafted digital creature effects are nothing short of astonishing and thoroughly creepy. Akinshina dominates the film with her unbridled grace, vulnerability and integrity, the relationship that develops between Tatyana and Konstantin (Fyodorov delivering a beautifully understated turn belying deep inner turmoil) feeling realistically earned as it goes from tentatively wary to tragically bittersweet, while Bondarchuk invests the Colonel with a nuanced air of tarnished authority and restrained brutality that made him one of my top screen villains for the year. One of 2020’s great sleeper hits, I can’t speak of this film highly enough – it’s a genuine revelation, an instant classic for whom I’ll sing its praises for years to come, and I wish enormous future success to all the creative talents involved.

15. THE INVISIBLE MAN – looks like third time’s a charm for Leigh Whannell, writer-director of my ALMOST horror movie of the year (more on that later) – while he’s had immense success as a horror writer over the years (co-creator of both the Saw and Insidious franchises), as a director his first two features haven’t exactly set the world alight, with debut Insidious: Chapter III garnering similar takes to the rest of the series but ultimately turning out to be a bit of a damp squib quality-wise, while his second feature Upgrade was a stone-cold masterpiece that was (rightly) EXTREMELY well received critically, but ultimately snuck in under the radar and has remained a stubbornly hidden gem since. No such problems with his third feature, though – his latest collaboration with producer Jason Blum and the insanely lucrative Blumhouse Pictures has proven a massive hit both financially AND with reviewers, and deservedly so. Having given up on trying to create a shared cinematic universe inhabited by their classic monsters, Universal resolved to concentrate on standalones to showcase their elite properties, and their first try is a rousing success, Whannell bringing HG Wells’ dark and devious human monster smack into the 21st Century as only he can. The result is a surprisingly subtle piece of work, much more a lethally precise exercise in cinematic sleight of hand and extraordinary acting than flashy visual effects, strictly adhering to the Blumhouse credo of maximum returns for minimum bucks as the story is stripped down to its bare essentials and allowed to play out without any unnecessary weight. The Handmaid’s Tale’s Elizabeth Moss once again confirms what a masterful actress she is as she brings all her performing weapons to bear in the role of Cecelia “Cee” Kass, the cloistered wife of affluent but monstrously abusive optics pioneer Aidan Griffin (Netflix’ The Haunting of Hill House’s Oliver Jackson-Cohen), who escapes his clutches in the furiously tense opening sequence and goes to ground with the help of her closest childhood friend, San Francisco cop James Lanier (Leverage’s Aldis Hodge) and his teenage daughter Sydney (A Wrinkle in Time’s Storm Reid). Two weeks later, Aidan commits suicide, leaving Cee with a fortune to start her life over (with the proviso that she’s never ruled mentally incompetent), but as she tries to find her way in the world again little things start going wrong for her, and she begins to question if there might be something insidious going on. As her nerves start to unravel, she begins to suspect that Aidan is still alive, still very much in her life, fiendishly toying with her and her friends, but no-one can see him. Whannell plays her paranoia up for all it’s worth, skilfully teasing out the scares so that, just like her friends, we begin to wonder if it might all be in her head after all, before a spectacular mid-movie reveal throws the switch into high gear and the true threat becomes clear. The lion’s share of the film’s immense success must of course go to Moss – her performance is BEYOND a revelation, a blistering career best that totally powers the whole enterprise, and it goes without saying that she’s the best thing in this. Even so, she has sterling support from Hodge and Reid, as well as Love Child’s Harriet Dyer as Cee’s estranged big sister Emily and Wonderland’s Michael Dorman as Adrian’s slimy, spineless lawyer brother Tom, and, while he doesn’t have much actual (ahem) “screen time”, Jackson-Cohen delivers a fantastically icy, subtly malevolent turn which casts a large “shadow” over the film. This is one of my very favourite Blumhouse films, a pitch-perfect psychological chiller that keeps the tension cranked up unbearably tight and never lets go, Whannell once again displaying uncanny skill with expert jump-scares, knuckle-whitening chills and a truly astounding standout set-piece that easily goes down as one of the top action sequences of 2020. Undoubtedly the best version of Wells’ story to date, this goes a long way in repairing the damage of Universal’s abortive “Dark Universe” efforts, as well as showcasing a filmmaking master at the very height of his talents.

14. EXTRACTION – the Coronavirus certainly has threw a massive spanner in the works of the year’s cinematic calendar – among many other casualties to the blockbuster shunt, the latest (and most long-awaited) MCU movie, Black Widow, should have opened to further record-breaking box office success at the end of spring, but instead the theatres were all closed and virtually all the heavyweights were pushed back or shelved indefinitely. Thank God, then, for the streaming services, particularly Hulu, Amazon and Netflix, the latter of which provided a perfect movie for us to see through the key transition into the summer blockbuster season, an explosively flashy big budget action thriller ushered in by MCU alumni the Russo Brothers (who produced and co-wrote this adaptation of Ciudad, a graphic novel that Joe Russo co-created with Ande Parks and Fernando Leon Gonzalez) and barely able to contain the sheer star-power wattage of its lead, Thor himself. Chris Hemsworth plays Tyler Rake, a former Australian SAS operative who hires out his services to an extraction operation under the command of mercenary Nik Khan (The Patience Stone’s Golshifteh Farahani), brought in to liberate Ovi Mahajan (Rudhraksh Jaiswal in his first major role), the pre-teen son of incarcerated Indian crime lord Ovi Sr. (Pankaj Tripathi), who has been abducted by Bangladeshi rival Amir Asif (Priyanshu Painyuli). The rescue itself goes perfectly, but when the time comes for the hand-off the team is double-crossed and Tyler is left stranded in the middle of Dhaka with no choice but to keep Ovi alive as every corrupt cop and street gang in the city closes in around them. This is the feature debut of Sam Hargrave, the latest stuntman to try his hand at directing, so he certainly knows his way around an action set-piece, and the result is a thoroughly breathless adrenaline rush of a film, bursting at the seams with spectacular fights, gun battles and car chases, dominated by a stunning sustained sequence that plays out in one long shot, guaranteed to leave jaws lying on the floor. Not that there should be any surprise – Hargrave cut his teeth as a stunt coordinator for the Russos on Captain America: Civil War and their Avengers films. That said, he displays strong talent for the quieter disciplines of filmmaking too, delivering quality character development and drawing out consistently noteworthy performances from his cast. Of course, Hemsworth can do the action stuff in his sleep, but there’s a lot more to Tyler than just his muscle, the MCU veteran investing him with real wounded vulnerability and a tragic fatalism which colours every scene, while Jaiswal is exceptional throughout, showing plenty of promise for the future, and there’s strong support from Farahani and Painyuli, as well as Stranger Things’ David Harbour as world-weary retired merc Gaspard, and a particularly impressive, muscular turn from Randeep Hooda (Once Upon a Time in Mumbai) as Saju, a former Para and Ovi’s bodyguard, who’s determined to take possession of the boy himself, even if he has to go through Tyler to get him. This is action cinema that really deserves to be seen on the big screen – I watched it twice in a week and would happily have paid for two trips to the cinema for it if I could have. As we looked down the barrel of a summer season largely devoid of blockbuster fare, I couldn’t recommend this enough. Thank the gods for Netflix …

13. THE TRIAL OF THE CHICAGO 7 – although it’s definitely a film that really benefitted enormously from releasing on Netflix during the various lockdowns, this was one of the blessed few I actually got to see during one of the UK’s frustratingly rare lulls when cinemas were actually OPEN. Rather perversely it therefore became one of my favourite cinematic experiences of 2020, but then I’m just as much a fan of well-made cerebral films as I am of the big, immersive blockbuster EXPERIENCES, so this probably still would have been a standout in a normal year. Certainly if this was a purely CRITICAL list for the year this probably would have placed high in the Top Ten … Aaron Sorkin is a writer whose work I have ardently admired ever since he went from esteemed playwright to in-demand talent for both the big screen AND the small with A Few Good Men, and TTOTC7 is just another in a long line of consistently impressive, flawlessly written works rife with addictive quickfire dialogue, beautifully observed characters and rewardingly propulsive narrative storytelling (therefore resting comfortably amongst the well-respected likes of The West Wing, Charlie Wilson’s War, Moneyball and The Social Network). It also marks his second feature as a director (after fascinating and incendiary debut Molly’s Game), and once again he’s gone for true story over fiction, tackling the still controversial subject of the infamous 1968 trial of the “ringleaders” of the infamous riots which marred Chicago’s Diplomatic National Convention five months earlier, in which thousands of hippies and college students protesting the Vietnam War clashed with police. Spurred on by the newly-instated Presidential Administration of Richard Nixon to make some examples, hungry up-and-coming prosecutor Richard Schultz (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) is confident in his case, while the Seven – who include respected and astute student activist Tom Hayden (Eddie Redmayne) and confrontational counterculture firebrands Abbie Hoffman (Sacha Baron Cohen) and Jerry Rubin (Succession’s Jeremy Strong) – are the clear underdogs. They’re a divided bunch (particularly Hayden and Hoffman, who never mince their words about what little regard they hold for each other), and they’re up against the combined might of the U.S. Government, while all they have on their side is pro-bono lawyer and civil rights activist William Kunstler (Mark Rylance), who’s sharp, driven and thoroughly committed to the cause but clearly massively outmatched … not to mention the fact that the judge presiding over the case is Julius Hoffman (Frank Langella), a fierce and uncompromising conservative who’s clearly 100% on the Administration’s side, and who might in fact be stark raving mad (he also frequently goes to great lengths to make it clear to all concerned that he is NOT related to Abbie). Much as we’ve come to expect from Sorkin, this is cinema of grand ideals and strong characters, not big spectacle and hard action, and all the better for it – he’s proved time and again that he’s one of the very best creative minds in Hollywood when it comes to intelligent, thought-provoking and engrossing thinking-man’s entertainment, and this is pure par for the course, keeping us glued to the screen from the skilfully-executed whirlwind introductory montage to the powerfully cathartic climax, and every varied and brilliant scene in-between. This is heady stuff, focusing on what’s still an extremely thorny issue made all the more urgently relevant and timely given what was (and still is) going on in American politics at the time, and everyone involved here was clearly fully committed to making the film as palpable, powerful and resonant as possible for the viewer, no matter their nationality or political inclination. Also typical for a Sorkin film, the cast are exceptional, everyone clearly having the wildest time getting their teeth into their finely-drawn characters and that magnificent dialogue – Redmayne and Baron Cohen are compellingly complimentary intellectual antagonists given their radically different approaches and their roles’ polar opposite energies, while Rylance delivers another pitch-perfect, simply ASTOUNDING performance that once again marks him as one of the very best actors of his generation, and there are particularly meaty turns from Strong, Langella, Aquaman’s Yahya Abdul-Mateen II (as besieged Black Panther Bobby Seale) and a potent late appearance from Michael Keaton that sear themselves into the memory long after viewing. Altogether then, this is a phenomenal film which deserves to be seen no matter the format, a thought-provoking and undeniably IMPORTANT masterwork from a master cinematic storyteller that says as much about the world we live in now as the decidedly turbulent times it portrays …

12. GREYHOUND – when the cinemas closed back in March, the fate of many of the major summer blockbusters we’d been looking forward to was thrown into terrible doubt. Some were pushed back to more amenable dates in the autumn or winter (which even then ultimately proved frustratingly ambitious), others knocked back a whole year to fill summer slots for 2021, but more than a few simply dropped off the radar entirely with the terrible words “postponed until further notice” stamped on them, and I lamented them all, this one in particular. It hung in there longer than some, stubbornly holding onto its June release slot for as long as possible, but eventually it gave up the ghost too … but thanks to Apple TV+, not for long, ultimately releasing less than a month later than intended. Thankfully the film itself was worth the fuss, a taut World War II suspense thriller that’s all killer, no filler – set during the infamous Battle of the Atlantic, it portrays the constant life-or-death struggle faced by the Allied warships assigned to escort the transport convoys as they crossed the ocean, defending their charges from German U-boats. Adapted from C.S. Forester’s famous 1955 novel The Good Shepherd by Tom Hanks and directed by Aaron Schneider (Get Low), the narrative focuses on the crew of the escort leader, American destroyer USS Fletcher, codenamed “Greyhound”, and in particular its captain, Commander Ernest Krause (Hanks), a career sailor serving his first command. As they cross “the Pit”, the most dangerous middle stretch of the journey where they spend days without air-cover, they find themselves shadowed by “the Wolf Pack”, a particularly cunning group of German submarines that begin to pick away at the convoy’s stragglers. Faced with daunting odds, a dwindling supply of vital depth-charges and a ruthless, persistent enemy, Krause must make hard choices to bring his ships home safe … jumping into the thick of the action within the first ten minutes and maintaining its tension for the remainder of the trim 90-minute run, this is screen suspense par excellence, a sleek textbook example of how to craft a compelling big screen knuckle-whitener with zero fat and maximum reward, delivering a series of desperate naval scraps packed with hide-and-seek intensity, heart-in-mouth near-misses and fist-in-air cathartic payoffs by the bucket-load. Hanks is subtly magnificent, the calm centre of the narrative storm as a supposed newcomer to this battle arena who could have been BORN for it, bringing to mind his similarly unflappable in Captain Phillips and certainly not suffering by comparison; by and large he’s the focus point, but other crew members make strong (if sometimes quite brief) impressions, particularly Stephen Graham as Krause’s reliably seasoned XO, Lt. Commander Charlie Cole, The Magnificent Seven’s Manuel Garcia-Rulfo and Just Mercy’s Rob Morgan, while Elisabeth Shue does a lot with a very small part in brief flashbacks as Krause’s fiancée Evelyn. Relentless, exhilarating and thoroughly unforgettable, this was one of the true action highlights of the summer, and one hell of a war flick. I’m so glad it made the cut for the summer …

11. PROJECT POWER – with Marvel and DC pushing their tent-pole titles back in the face of COVID, the usual superhero antics we’ve come to expect for the summer were pretty thin on the ground in 2020, leading us to find our geeky fan thrills elsewhere. Unfortunately, pickings were frustratingly slim – Korean comic book actioner Gundala was entertaining but workmanlike, while Thor AU Mortal was underwhelming despite strong direction from Troll Hunter’s André Øvredal, and The New Mutants just got shat on by the studio and its distributors and no mistake – thank the Gods, then, for Netflix, once again riding to the rescue with this enjoyably offbeat super-thriller, which takes an intriguing central premise and really runs with it. New designer drug Power has hit the streets of New Orleans, able to give anyone who takes it a superpower for five minutes … the only problem is, until you try it, you don’t know what your own unique talent is – for some, it could mean five minutes of invisibility, or insane levels of super-strength, but other powers can be potentially lethal, the really unlucky buggers just blowing up on the spot. Robin (The Hate U Give’s Dominique Fishback) is a teenage Power-pusher with dreams of becoming a rap star, dealing the pills so she can help her diabetic mum; Frank Shaver (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) is one of her customers, a police detective who uses his power of near invulnerability to even the playing field when supercharged crims cause a disturbance. Their lives are turned upside down when Art (Jamie Foxx) arrives in town – he’s a seriously badass ex-soldier determined to hunt down the source of Power by any means necessary, and he’s not above tearing the Big Easy apart to do it. This is a fun, gleefully infectious rollercoaster that doesn’t take itself too seriously, revelling in the anarchic potential of its premise and crafting some suitably OTT effects-driven chaos brought to pleasingly visceral fruition by its skilfully inventive director, Ariel Schulman (Catfish, Nerve, Viral), while Mattson Tomlin (the screenwriter of the DCEU’s oft-delayed, incendiary headline act The Batman) takes the story in some very interesting directions and poses fascinating questions about what Power’s TRULY capable of. Gordon-Levitt and Fishback are both brilliant, the latter particularly impressing in what’s sure to be a major breakthrough role for her, and the friendship their characters share is pretty adorable, while Foxx really is a force to be reckoned with, pretty chill even when he’s in deep shit but fully capable of turning into a bona fide killing machine at the flip of a switch, and there’s strong support from Westworld’s Rodrigo Santoro as Biggie, Power’s delightfully oily kingpin, Courtney B. Vance as Frank’s by-the-book superior, Captain Crane, Amy Landecker as Gardner, the morally bankrupt CIA spook responsible for the drug’s production, and Machine Gun Kelly as Newt, a Power dealer whose pyrotechnic “gift” really isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Exciting, inventive, frequently amusing and infectiously likeable, this was some of the most uncomplicated cinematic fun I had all summer. Not bad for something which I’m sure was originally destined to become one of the season’s B-list features …

#onward #onward movie #The Gentlemen #spontaneous #spontaneous movie #hamilton #hamilton movie #sputnik #sputnik movie #The Invisible Man #Extraction #extraction movie #the trial of the chicago 7 #greyhound #greyhound movie #project power #2020 in movies

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wongiemei · 4 years

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3. Social Darwinism

A rash has slightly developed on your neck where the sun hit it just right without the defense of your coat. It was very uncomfortable but you didn’t let it bother you, instead focusing ahead outside the window. After your shopping trip with Jaehyun, you felt like it was time to go home even though you wanted to stay longer and didn’t want to be trapped in that house.

It’s been weeks since the wedding but you felt like it was longer.

The car stopped, the driver stepping out and walking over to your side before opening your door so that you can get off.

“Your highness,” he greeted before bowing and extending his hand out for you to take.

You gratefully nodded and grasped his gloved hand to step out of the vehicle, adjusting the sunglasses that has fallen to the bridge of your nose. The chauffeur went to the trunk to retrieve your shopping bags and luggage from your trip to France.

The smell of the daisies and the roses from the garden out back was so strong that you were sure anyone, even without super senses, could smell it.

You loved the smell of roses.

Heels clacking against the marble floor of the entrance hallway, the maids stopped in their tracks and hastily bowed 90 degrees upon the sight of you. As you raised your hand to take of your sunglasses, some of them visibly flinched and it unconsciously placed a smirk on your face.

You’re worked so hard to be feared and you have lost so much to be at the status you are now and you weren’t going to let that go to waste because of a stupid little boy.

The butler, whom you now know as Jun, led a few footmen who were carrying your luggage and stopped a few feet behind you. With a flick of his gloved hand, the maids were dismissed and they scurried away from the sight of you.

“Take these to the Head Maid and she will take them to Her Highness’ room.” The footmen nodded and wandered off to the old woman waiting by the staircase. Jun stepped in front of you and smiled kindly before raising an arm. “If you could follow me, your Highness. The Prince has requested your attendance to the drawing room.”

Upon walking down the hallway with gold-painted walls, you could feel the eyes of the portraits that hung up high. Although they weren’t even supposed to be real, the judgeful eyes of the past ancestors of the Orenda kingdom seemed to follow you and you could even hear their hateful whispers and hisses.

‘Kalon blood, on our territory?’

‘Perish and repay the lives lost of our House for yours!’

‘Dirty blood mixed with ours will taint the House line for eternity!’

The whispers weren’t even there but the creation of your imagination as you could feel yourself slowly slipping away to insanity with this forceful arrangement that altered your life forever. With the gender you were born with and the belief that no woman could rule a kingdom, the only way you could have what you wanted was to ally yourself with your rival House.

But the only way you’ll keep your sanity is to play wisely and not hesitate to let him burn for the benefit of you.

Pushing open the tall oak wood doors, you were a little startled at the amount of faces when you only expected one, your husband’s. Even without getting to formally know them, it was still your duty as a royal to be familiar with all of them as they were all princes from various kingdoms of your world. From the honey-haired boy to the ridiculously bright orange-haired prince, the only thing that they all had in common was the bright red eyes.

The stark difference between the twin princes of the Cerilian House was enough to show the diversity of the line of their ancestors. Situated in the Indian Ocean, their kingdom could easily prey on poor fishermen filled with luscious human blood.

Born with platinum hair, Lee Jeno always stood out from the rest of the 4 Lee princes and combined with his defined facial structure, he became feared and his ruthlessness was enough to make him Jaemin’s right man. He was the one Jaemin called first regarding the ambush attack on his family from House Pezzerio and together, they became the most feared duo in the Underworld. Even though he rarely spoke during council meetings, Jeno’s eyes always held whatever he wanted to be expressed and he was known to always keep an eye out for his brothers and the crown prince, Taeyong. Rumor has it that Jeno’s eyes and ears are so sharp, he could easily detect a traitor from across the room. There is no definite answer as to if this was true but who do you think was supplying his brother, Donghyuck, his toys?

Meanwhile, Lee Donghyuck stayed in the shadows. Known as the playboy prince, he often stayed away from his kingdom, preferring to spend his time in Tuscany with human girls to feast on. The melanin, honey haired boy wouldn’t even be thought of as a vampire, much less a vampire prince, due to his soft features. However, out of the 4 princes, he was the most cruel. He saw the world and its people, human or Underworlders, as toys and nothing but his source of enjoyment in this dark world he lived in. Like his brother Jeno, their smile could be saying one thing but their eyes were always very honest, especially if it didn’t reach their eyes. With a dangerously playful nature, Donghyuck participated in the torture of war criminals and traitors of House Cerilian and had a thirst for the look of intense pain from the enemy as he used his lighter to tease the fragile vampire skin.

House Dormir was placed on the East China Sea, extending to the North Pacific Ocean and ending near Hawaii. With the vast territory, their kingdom usually split up in 2 different sections with 2 princes who co-ruled the kingdom. With the Orendian and Kalonian kingdom being smaller even when combined, House Dormir was known to sometimes challenge the authority of the Capital just because of the size of their territory.

Being a direct ancestor of the original line of Dormir kings, Zhong Chenle became powerful even before he turned 12. The death of his King father and older brother urged his mother to make him mature quicker with plans of ascending the throne by his 18th birthday but he wasn’t prepared. Rebelling against his mother and doing anything he can to piss her off, he teamed up with Jisung and constantly did childish things to make their immaturity known. Showing up with orange hair definitely caught the attention of the council and they knew this little boy was going to bring Dormir’s downfall. In came the 3 older princes: Jaemin, Donghyuck, and Jeno. At first, he was being used as a pawn for the Orendian Kingdom and the Cerilian Kingdom wanted to take over his large territory and split it for themselves. But Chenle was smarter than that and he threatened the 3 enough that they stopped the expansion, instead becoming close to the boy after seeing themselves in him.

However, this couldn’t be done without the help of Chenle’s cousin and the future ruler of the other half of Dormir, Renjun. With his quick wit and intelligent way of thinking, Renjun helped Chenle play many wars to get what he wanted. Not knowing if he was going to be trusted, Chenle was suspicious but Renjun has made it clear with his clear intentions as he only wants to rule alongside Chenle. After all, with Chenle by his side, everyone was forced to submit to him due to the power his family has. Known as the Night Raven, after his famous midnight colored hair, Renjun called the shots whether captured criminals got to live another day or not. He knew exactly where someone’s weakness was and would mercilessly torture them with it, all with a smile on his face. Let’s just say, him and Donghyuck get along very well.

Last but not least, the little pink haired boy. Known as the last surviving son of House Vermille, Park Jisung built a strong connection to Zhong Chenle and by association, became connected to the rest. You knew him ever since you were little and saw him as a little boy in the parties you were forced to attend and his mousy features that have defined itself due to his growth. You always remembered him as the boy with the sharpest teeth as whenever he smiled, he would accidentally cut his bottom lip and him sheepishly smiling afterwards. His innocent and adolescent nature made you feel nostalgic because you wanted to take him under your wing since he was so young. With just turning 140 a few months ago, Jisung was by far the youngest crown prince and the least capable. You vaguely remembered when he turned 115, he reached the age of intense hunger and he wiped out an entire French village thus almost causing a war with Metanoia. But, your family stopped the war because House Kalon, too, had territory in France and they didn’t want to jeopardize the alliance they’ve made to the kingdom in the Atlantic Ocean near Languo.

Of course, you knew them.

The perfect plan to obtain Underworld domination was to start a fire in this room as it contained the most powerful people in the Underworld.

All of the boys studied you and you cracked a smirk, crossing your arms across your chest. “Well, hello boys,” you greeted with a sultry tone.

Closing the door behind you, you stopped short by the end of the oval wood table that seated your husband at the head. Making eye contact with him, Jaemin smiled before he stood up and walked over to you, arms wrapping around your middle and pressing a slow kiss to your temple.

“Hello, darling. How was your trip?” Jaemin asked with a sickeningly sweet tone that made you wretch inside.

Placing a gentle hand on his strong bicep, you peered up at him through your lashes. “Enjoyable, but not pleasing enough.” You answered with a smile but grit your teeth and squeezed his arm the hardest you could and his smile fell, replaced with a hardened expression.

Oh, he is going to destroy you later.

“You could’ve told me your little friends were coming. I could’ve came back earlier and arranged for scones,” you gazed at the others who wore faint amused smirks at the interaction in front of them.

Jaemin’s gaze remained on your face and you felt it piercing through your cheeks, “There was a human boy found wandering the woods. He will serve as our refreshment.”

Nodding silently, you took a seat beside Jisung and laced your fingers together. “So what has brought you all to this side of town?”

“Malor just lost an entire noble family in England a few days ago from vampire hunting. They planned to stay in Yorkshire for a few months for vacation but word got around of their true identity and burned their vacation home. The Council wants to know our opinion about it and the family wants us to deal with it. Something about this being a trial run for the future.” Jeno explained as he visibly tried to get comfortable while crossing his legs.

Jaemin nods and he returns to his seat and leans back, brushing his long fingers through his hair. You unknowingly licked your lips at the action and only noticed your behavior as he caught your eye and looked at you teasingly. You coughed and held your right hand out to examine your nail.

“Well, Malor is quite known for their, should I say -idiotic- elites. Vacationing in a country that has vampire stories riding the winds and not expecting to be hunted with no hesitation? Consider me improper but they deserved their demise.”

Donghyuck let out a dry chuckle and rested his elbows on the table, resting his chin on his right hand. “I must say, princess. I never considered you as the deserving justice type.”

You returned his cheeky smile with a wink, “If I were to rule the Underworld, I would make sure the weak and stupid ones were gone first, right? It would be better if it wasn’t done by my hand.”

“Applying Social Darwinism to your court? A bold yet risky move,” Renjun commented, eyeing you curiously.

It must be odd seeing a woman speak so rashly and freely about topics like these, much less a royal woman.

“Our world can only survive if we get rid of weaklings. Sorry, but I don’t make the rules.”

Chuckles surrounded the table and even Jeno had to suppress the smile that threatened to come out. Jaemin looked at you once more and he started to think differently of what he originally thought was a privileged, spoiled brat who only wanted the crown of jewels on her head, not the responsibility.

It was the good kind of different.

“Well, because of that rash attitude, the union of your houses has caused quite an uproar with an underground resistance that is forming in the Capital as we speak. The war from years ago is still fresh in the minds of many and are outraged at the outcome of the 2 kingdoms. Word has it that they are planning an attack and it is even sponsored by other kingdoms as well. My men have no guaranteed answers and no direct evidence for the suspected Houses or whether the attack is directed to you or to us by association.” You eyed Jeno curiously and noticed the strong aura he radiated. It felt familiar but strangely ominous and made you nervous.

“Well, why don’t we catch them now? We know there’s a rebellion happening and we know that they’re planning something. Are we just going to stand and wait for it to happen?” Jisung argued and Chenle nodded in agreement, looking at the faces of the elders.

You turned to him and placed a manicured hand on Jisung’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, little mouse. A lesson about war, it is in your best interest for the enemy to come to you. Thinking on your feet is the best way to win and as a bonus, requires less thinking which should be beneficial for you.”

“So, what you’re saying is, they should come to us rather than us going to them?” Chenle asked curiously, confused by this battle tactic.

You nodded, “Precisely.”

“If they are planning something, it’s only natural for you two to be the target since you’re the future king and queen. Someone might be taken as an exchange for you but it’s suspected and there might be a way to escape that,” Renjun commented.

You frowned, slightly confused and even a little shocked at what they were saying. “Don’t focus on only the two of us. All of you are princes as well and it’s only wrong for you to be thinking about our safety. Regard your titles as you are also a royal member of your respective kingdoms. Any action placed upon you can cause a war and a rebellion amongst the people and give them more power. The last thing we need is an internal conflict that could possibly weaken us.”

But Jaemin grinned cynically, razor sharp teeth on display. “Oh, darling, you don’t have to think about that. If something were to happen to my boys, with the combination of our armies, we could crush anything. I could feel a revolution running through my veins and with the help of them, we could destroy those other treacherous kingdoms.”

“So what do you have in mind, Jaems? What could bring them to us?” Donghyuck asked, lazily playing with a stain on the wood.

Both you and Jaemin looked at each other and you scoffed as you seem to be thinking what he was thinking.

“An auction. Human auction.” He answered and Donghyuck smiled happily, eager to find more beings to play with.

“There is no certainty that we will find a King that is sponsoring this rebellion but it could give us a good idea that could help narrow it down. We must not be rash about this situation but we must be on high-alert as well.” Nods were sent to you and Jaemin sent you an approving nod.

“Well there we have it! We got a plan, we execute the said plan, and we live happily ever after! Huzzah!” Donghyuck exclaimed, rising out of his seat.

But Jeno tugged down his shirt and made him fall back on his seat again. “Not so fast, Dongie. We still have to talk about your magical adventure in Milan that caused a few dozens of missing girls’ cases to appear.”

You stood up, brushing invisible dust off of your skirt. “As much as I would love to ask about your insane thirst for young, virgin maidens, Donghyuck, I do have a party to plan.”

“But it’s not a party,” Jaemin remarked. You scoffed and sent him a manic smile.

“With wine, cocaine, and blood? Oh, yes, my love. It is a party.”

The bed creaked as a series of powerful thrusts of his hips snapped towards you, making you whine and gasping for air. Your arms were starting to give out, letting Jaemin hold you up by your waist and continue slamming himself into you. Sweat gathered on his forehead and left his luscious blonde locks to plaster themselves against his porcelain skin.

“I” thrust

“Am” thrust

“Your” thrust

“King” thrust

“Understand?” thrust

A high-pitched whine left your lips as he sunk deeper into you, relishing the satisfaction of him touching you places you couldn’t even fathom was possible.

Not hearing your response, Jaemin let one of his hands go and swiftly twisted your hair into a make-shift ponytail and tugged you close, lifting you so you were against his chest and on his lap. The sudden action made you scream since he sank even deeper.

“I said, understand?” He hissed and you couldn’t even control yourself, whining and moaning at the sharp thrusts.

“Yes, my king.”

“Good.”

a/n: not gonna lie, this was kinda weird to write and severely overdue. THANK YOU to you guys who stuck by me even though i haven’t updated in a while and never stopped supporting me!! i love you guys!!

Taglist:

@d0dges @bobohu-s-ane-yeobo @heyyyun @thwia

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botwstoriesandsuch · 4 years

Text

An Enjoyable Evening Part 3 of 3 The Legend of Zelda: Breath of The Wild Revali x Reader

Hello! This is actually my first time requesting on Tumblr May I request a Revali x Reader? I really liked the last one you did and I was wondering if you could do a continuation of that oneshot. I'm curious of how the party will turn out. Will the other Champions be suprised that Revali bought a "date?" :0

Here’s the final part to the series! Sorry if the ending is rushed, enjoy!

Also yes, this was reposted, because I was trying to edit a typo on my phone and I accidentally deleted the entire thing...good job me!

It was around 9pm when the two of you landed at the castle grounds. The towering stone walls of the castle were in stark contrast with the tranquil view of nature you had witnessed in the sky not an hour earlier. Revali was leading you through a stone path. Ahead you could see a silver gazebo, with cream colored lanterns illuminated the surroundings, basking nobles and servants alike with light. Figures of blue, gold, black, and red drifted and danced through grass. While most seemed to be Hylian, there were also Zora, Sheikah, and other races in the mix. The night air was now cool, winds only strong enough to barely sway the lanterns. You walked behind the Rito as a guard approached the two of you.

“Ah, Master Revali. We thank you for your presence tonight.” He gave a polite bow. His deep blue outfit, adorned with silver trimming and gold tassels, gave an aura of authority. “The Princess and the other Champions are here, shall I show you to them?”

“No, I don’t need an escort, thank you. I have the gift of sight so I’m sure I’ll manage fine.”

“Alright then, how about you lover here?”

“My wha-”

You both suddenly tensed. Revali’s feathers poofed up. You shuffled to the side and put some distance between you and Revali. The two of you started speaking rapidly over each other.

“Oh no, he’s not my— ”

“Uh, no. That’s not. they didn’t actually want to be here—”

“He’s incredibly annoying, and we hate each oth—”

“I mean, me, with a Hylian, *cough* obviously I w—”

“Well I don’t hate him, I’m just not, er—”

“Who would surround themselves with such a rude, and intelligent, b-but mostly rude—”

“—um, the point it”

“We’re just friends.” You both finally sputtered out in unison. When you went to look at Revali, your eyes met, and you both quickly turned away. Your cheeks were on fire. WHY? Why were they on fire???? The guard stood there with a raised eyebrow, staring at you both blankly.

“…OK then.” An awkward silence. “So, do you want me to—”

“We’ll just be on our way then!”

Revali quickly grabbed your hand before pulling you away towards the courtyard. You moved past the guard with steps, wanting to leave behind the embarrassing scene as fast as possible. Thankfully, it didn’t take long to take your mind off it as when you approached the rest of the party, delicious smells filling the air.

You stopped in your tracks, taking in the full picture. Tables were lined up on the side, cloaked in white cloth. On them, sat plates and plates and plates of food, more than you had ever seen in your life! There was meat and sauce and fish and steamed vegetables. Cakes and sweets and stews and rice. And in the center of it all sat a tower of exotic fruits, filled to the brim with apples, berries, hydromelons, bananas, and palm fruit. Sweet and savory aromas filled the air, not clashing, but blending into indescribable sensations that allowed you to taste everything before you could even touch it.

You then noticed Revali staring, how long had he been observing you?.

“What?”

“Why are you smiling so much? I thought the sight of such a large gathering might intimidate you.”

“Oh it does, but the food! Can you smell all that?? The food! It smells so good here…”

“Yes, well you see at parties, typically people attempt to enjoy themselves by eating edible foods, rather than five-day-old honeyed candies that you store away in a desk for when you stay up all night.”

You ignored his comment. “I’m going to the buffet.”

“Woah-woah, wait. We had a deal didn’t we? I’m sure you’ll still have ti—”

“A-shh-shh-shh-shh-shh!” You held a finger up to his face. “Hold your beak giant cucco, it’ll be just for a minute. I’ll come back if some boring noble attempts to bend your ear. Besides,” You gestured towards a Goron, Gerudo, and Zora, all adorned with bright blue garments. They were looking at Revali with curious expressions, seemingly wanting to approach . “It seems there are people here who have made the mistake of wanting to talk with you. I wouldn’t want to intrude on such a rare occurrence.”

Before he had a chance to object, you raced off towards the buffet.

… . .

“So, who was that?”

Revali sighed. “Just some scientist that desperately wanted to attend this event. So I did them a favor, considering I am known for my boundless generosity. It really doesn’t concern you, Urbosa.”

“OH-HO! You have a DATE, Revali?!?” Daruk slapped him across the back, playfully. Revali stumbled forward, nearly tripping over himself.

“AGH! Would you— ugh, first off,” he turned to face Urbosa, Daruk, and Mipha, “their name is [Name], and as I just stated, they’re not a date. If anything, we’re enemies, I don’t like them, we hate each other.” Mipha tilted her head askew. Urbosa cocked an eyebrow. “Secondly, [she’s/he’s] incredibly boring. Don’t bother asking them questions about me, or them, or how they got here, or how we met, anything that might cause unnecessary embarrassment between the two of you. As I said, they’re not that interesting, so I’ll be taking the burden of speaking with them throughout the night. Understand?

“Thirdly,” Revali glared at Daruk, “I would appreciate it if you didn’t bellow out things like that in the future. I’m sure [Name] wouldn’t appreciate you acting out so brashly during the night.”

“Aw,” Urbosa cooed, “Is Revali afraid we’ll scare away his date?”

Daruk gave out a mighty laugh, accompanied by Mipha’s giggling. Revali then shot daggers at Urbosa.

“Ha-ha. Very funny.”

“Yes I know, that’s why we laughed.” Urbosa gave out a smirk. Mipha started to snicker.

“Look little Rito,” Daruk moved closer, attempting to give a more gentle pat on his back. “I’m sure your buddy there is really great.”

“Did you say, little?”

“It’s nice to see you making new friends! Better than you being cooped up at the flight range every day, right? None of us are judging you here, we’re happy for you! I’m sure [Name] is a great, poised, confident, and respectable Hylian.”

CRASH!

The four Champions, along with the other startled guests, suddenly turned towards the buffet table where the noise originated from. The once towering fruit pile now sat collapsed in the dirt. The table it rested on was now a mess of colorful juices and littered utensils. Beside the scene, stood you, arms full of exotic fruits. Revali sighed, then chuckled to himself.

“Well, you never fail to make things more interesting, huh?”

He stared at the scene as he watched servants come rushing in to attend to the situation. “Definitely more exciting than spending anymore time praising that pesky knight.” After a moment, Revali turned back to the others. His eyes narrowed.

“Where is Link anyway?”

… . .

You were shuffling between the servants, desperately trying to apologize for the mess you made.

“I am so, so sorry! I was just trying to move a random durian, and the whole thing just fell, I’m so sorry. The structure of the tower was off anyway, maybe you should add a frame behind it or something…without any infrastructure it was bound to fall sooner or later, it’s as tall as a Vah Naboris…n-not that I’m trying to blame this on you! It’s my fault, obviously, just, you know, it could have been prevented if the fancy lords and ladies put a bit more effort into public safety rather than grandiose gestures…but again, I’m really, really sorry.”

The servant waved you off bluntly, as if to say “it’s fine.” You attempted to spout out more words, in your ever expanding internal conflict of apologizing sincerely, but not sucking up to the noble guests who were eyeing you with distaste. However, you comically slipped on a banana peel.

“Wha—OH SH-”

The world tilted, as just as you were sure you were able to eat dirt, someone caught you. You staggered onto your feet and turned around.

“That was close. Thank you so much…” your eyes suddenly widened, “Master Link?”

Link shook his head and waved his arms. It’s not a problem, he seemed to say. You stood there blankly. You had heard about the Champion Link. Supposedly he rarely spoke, only in instances when it was necessary, or if he couldn’t communicate with his body language. He was wearing his bright blue tunic, the same shade as Revali’s scarf, and it was outlined with pearl white designs, spiraling down his chest in the shape of the Master Sword.

He then started moving his hands, around. His fingers danced through the air, leaving you a bit confused, before it hit you. Oh! He’s using Hylian sign-language. Really committed to keeping silent, then. You asked him to repeat the motions before you understood.

Can you understand?

“Yeah, I learned Hylian sign in college.”

That’s good. Not many know it now-a-days. Are you all right?

“Nearly fell flat on my butt, but I’m fine now, thanks to you.”

Is your name [Name]?

“…yes, how did you know?”

Revali used to talk about you a lot.

You gave a half-hearted chuckle. “Oh really? That’s…nice.” You moved your fingers through your hair in an attempt to give your hands something to do. “Master Link is rather blunt, isn’t he?” You thought.

You know, in Rito culture, they typically trade their feathers to show affection.

“What?”

“AH! Would you look who it is, the knight of the hour!”

Revali appeared behind you, but was looking at Link with a stern expression.

“Happy anniversary of pulling out the Master Sword. I hope you’re enjoying yourself, considering the King and Princess insisted on celebrating with all the useless pomp and grandeur, we could muster.”

Link just started blankly. Then, after a moment he just gave a thumbs-up.

“Well, there’s no need to irk [Name] or I with your presence any longer. I’m sure there are a variety of other guests that would trip over themselves for a word or two with you. No point in talking any further with [Name], so why don’t you start intruding on the other guests’ conversations.”

The knight looked between the two of you, still standing quietly, a confused expression just barely creeping onto his face. Then, he snuck a quick smirk your way, whatever that meant.

“Flap to it then!”

Link moved his shoulders up and down, shrugging. He waved to you before moving back towards the crowds. You glanced at Revali.

“The hell was that?”

“Come with me, I’ll help get you cleaned up.”

… . .

You stood in the gazebo, its marble structure glistening around you, as if it brought the stars themselves down to sit on the grass.

“And here I thought I was special”

“What?”

“Back there with Link? Well, it’s nice to know I’m not the only person in your life that you’re so rude too.”

He scoffed. “Don’t flatter yourself, you’re the one who startled the guests and tainted the party’s entire mood by wreaking havoc on these innocent fruits.” He picked off a piece of apple out of your hair. “Now your whole look is ruined.”

You shrugged. “Can’t go anywhere but up from here, right? Look on the bright side, the conversation tonight might start focusing on the clumsy, idiot scientist rather than the ‘little knight’ or the other Champions.”

Revali shook his head, a typical smirk on his face. “Shut up so I can actually make you look presentable. Here.”

He took something out of the pouch by his side. A cleaned, silver quill, more specifically, your quill. Before you had the chance to question him. He plucked a few of the loose feathers on his wing. He then wrapped them around the quill and presented it to you.

“Deep, navy blue, like a setting starry sky, pairs well with the silver, no?”

“Right. And I should care…because?”

He sighed. “Well, a crimson tunic wouldn’t be my first choice of pairing,” Revali set the weave of feathers behind your ear and through your hair, “but it looks good enough on you.”

You brushed the feathers behind your ear. They were soft, the edges bending ever so slightly in the calm breeze. Suddenly, the realization hit you as you remembered Link’s words, or hand gestures. Immediately, your face suddenly became flustered, cheeks starting to pink from blushing.

“Uh, so Revali?”

“Yes?”

“About my quills, uh,” your voice was resigned, almost meek, “my quills, they’re probably the closest thing I have to feathers, right?”

“Well, I suppose—”

“Kinda funny how we’ve been trading them around, huh?”

Now it was Revali’s turn to get flustered. His feathers were poofing up, once again. The gazebo was silent was silent for a few moments as you both looked into each other’s eyes.

“So, you know? When did you find out about the tradition?”

“Like 15 minutes ago.”

“Huh.”

The air was still once more. For an eternity, you watched the sky. The same sky that Revali had flown through, as he showed off his grand entrances and moves, the same sky that you had seen as as you drifted above the world. And now, it was the same sky, that you both looked at together. At just the right angle, you could look past the stone walls and gaze at the fields of Hyrule. Looking towards the eastern most part, you could see crimson hues just starting to rise. It was late, or perhaps it was very early? It didn’t matter, because despite this, the stars continued to wink in the west. They were perched on a canopy of ink, strokes of indigo were painted underneath as the stars glistened above both you and Revali’s reach. Finally, he broke the silence.

“[Name],” Revali stood up, pacing around the gazebo, “look, I think you’re incredibly smart and sharp tongued and attractive and charming, and an all around brilliant person. Sometimes, I’d be annoyed by you’re stupidly blunt comments, and other times I can’t get enough of our idiotic banter. For the longest time, I couldn’t fathom why I was always looking forward to our next meeting. It took me a humiliating amount of time to come to the simple conclusion that…I enjoyed spending time with you.” He paused and turned his head back at you. “And I want to do it more often…”

You sat there, smiling. Look at feather face over here, pouring his heart out. You couldn’t hide the blushing on your cheeks. Your fingers continued to graze the feathers in your hair. However, Revali seemed to take your silence the wrong way

“U-unless of course you don’t feel the same way!” Revali started sputtering out nonsense. “Wait, wait, this was a joke! My acting skills are quite convincing, I know. Obviously, you prefer to keep stay friends, right? I mean, platonic friendships are just as strong. Anyone would be lucky to simple be good friends with me anyway, It—”

“Ok, now’s the part where you shut up.”

“—and I would, wait what?”

You got up, and pecked a kiss on the tip of Revali’s beak.

“I said, now’s the part where you shut up”

#botw #loz botw #breath of the wild #revali #revali botw #revali x reader #x reader #urbosa botw #urbosa #daruk botw #botw daruk #mipha botw #mipha #link botw #link #zelda

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