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flusteredloser · 3 years

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subzero - beverly marsh x fem!reader

it fandom week: huddling for warmth

content warnings: mentions of intoxication, smoking, swearing, fire, harmless threats, inhaler abuse, enemies to lovers, also i’m making bev tall bc i love tall gals word count: 3k

at the ripe age of ten years old, you knew you wanted to become a mother. the appeal of bouncing children in your lap, tucking them into bed, and the empowering feeling of calming tantrums down was something you naively believed was your destiny. now, ten-year-old you was never wrong, you knew that. but what you didn’t expect was for your dream to come true at eighteen, stuck mothering six drunken teenage sons during a hailstorm’s power outage.

“edward. kaspbrak. i swear to god, if you do not go to sleep right now i will knock you out with your own inhaler.”

eddie groans at your words, still teeter-tottering towards the mattress. richie was already in bed, practically dead for a past half-hour.

thankfully, he didn’t wake up from his comatose state when eddie gracefully slammed headfirst into the bed. you held your breath as the bed shook under eddie’s weight. drunken eddie was already a nightmare, what more, an even worse nightmare when catalysed with richie’s antics. mike was slightly more useful. after throwing up in almost every sink in the house, he helped carry a very tipsy ben up the stairs and they were now both unconscious down the hall. bill wasn't exactly a disturbance, but he was incredibly determined to show us that he could play the piano right now if asked, that his skills were only heightened after dark. (the fact that bill had never touched a piano in his life, or that bev's apartment didn't even have a piano wasn't stopping him). bev was taking care of them in the other room, and based on the muffled conversation, was still trying to coax bill to sleep. you and bev being the losers’ designated sober pair for tonight was the worst idea that had ever occurred to anyone. ever. the eight of you agreed. if you needed something done, you’d never leave the two of you to do it together. but stan had explained that the rotation required the two of you to pair up tonight, no matter what. you didn’t quite understand the necessity of it but in all honesty, you’d rather put up with bev’s clownery than upset stan further. speaking of, you glance at the lump on the floor, peacefully swaddled and engulfed in the massive duvet. you should probably check on stan’s breathing later.

now, though, you still had one child left.

hearing the sound of an air pump go off from the bed, you walk back to eddie.

“but i’m so cold and i’m not even tired,” said eddie, his inhaler still jammed in his mouth.

“eddie, the power will be back in no time, and if you keep pumping that shit in your mouth, you’re never going to feel tired,” you sigh, taking the aspirator away.

“no, but seriously.” eddie continues, his eyes filled with sleep-deprived mania. “i swear, i’m like wide awake, i don’t even need sleep right now, it’s technically the morning and nO WHAT THE HELL-”

clutching the pump in your hand, you watch the white vapour shoot against eddie’s face. nothing but eddie’s exasperated coughing filled the room.

“i told you, i’m not afraid to use this.”

“i thought...you said...you were going to...knock me out with it,” eddie questioned between coughs.

you narrow your eyes at him, “you keep this up and i will knock you with it.”

“wow, you really are gonna make a great mother someday.” you let out a deep groan, turning to see where the new voice came from. leaning against the doorframe with a lit cigarette between her fingers was bev in all her smug glory.

“you know, after dealing with kaspbrak tonight, he makes you look like an angel,” you roll your eyes.

“hey!” you hear a muffled voice from under the blanket.

“go to sleep, pretty boy,” bev chuckles, some smoke escaping with her laugh, “i know it’s hard after seeing her troll face but you have to try.”

you rolled your eyes again at the two giggles in the room, shuffling around the bed, carefully stepping around stan’s body. you continue to walk past bev and into the hall.

the house was silent. no one lived here anymore but bev since you guys graduated, and since mr. marsh stopped residing here, the apartment had an almost peaceful quality.

walking past the guest room, you grin at the sight of mike, ben, and bill entwined together on the floor. oh, how much tamer this group would’ve been compared to the menaces next door.

you snatch your backpack from the living room sofa and dug through the pockets anxiously. searching against the walls of your bag and still finding nothing, you began to feel more and more nervous. “fucking hell, where is it,” you whisper. at this rate, you weren’t sure if the thumping in your ears was from the sound of sharp hail hitting the windows or your heart beating in your throat. you stand up in a deeper panic, aggressively patting your pockets up and down.

“you know, as entertaining as this is to watch, i almost feel bad.”

“bev..." you sigh. "i am not in the mood."

“why? too busy looking for your pack of camels?” you hear the sound of a familiar cardboard flap opening, “personally, i’m more of a marlboro girl but i mean, these work too.”

you spin around and storm up to bev, snatching the lit cigarette from her lips. “that’s mine?”

she smirks, “you left your backpack open, it was practically an invitation.”

“an invitation for you to go through my shit?” you hissed, dangling the ignited end near her face.

she snatched her cig back and mockingly dangling it back near your face, “yeah, a formal invitation for me to smoke off this monstrosity of a temperature. what do you want, an apology too? i can write you one asap, let me find bill’s notebook-”

taking the cig back once more, you snap. "you’re such an ass, bev.”

she grins, following closely behind you. she could feel the heat radiating off of your body, and she secretly hoped you’d accidentally stop in your tracks so she could run into you. in the name of transferring body heat and what not. shaking off these thoughts that were hijacking her brain, she makes a kissy sound, “c’mon, you know you love it.”

“mmhm sure, bev. because i’m really into girls stealing my shit.”

pinching the flame from the cig and dumping it in the tray, she leads the both of you into the supply closet. she chuckles as she leans against the doorway, leaving you feeling trapped in the tight room. you knew she was laughing because you insisted on going in first and now that you were the one having to get the stuff, but you didn’t quite register that the things you needed was on the top shelf. up high stood a high stack of blankets. and they looked like they could singlehandedly cure the subzero temperature.

clearly, you must have been looking up at the blankets for a moment too long because bev gave up and leaned forwards to grab the stack. the sensation of her flushed against your back was enough to make you dizzy, not to mention how absolutely warm she was. and of course... it was bev.

bev. the girl who you rolled your eyes at every day, the girl who taunts you at any given minute, the girl you would, and had, risked your life for. you guys never talk about neibolt, but sometimes you catch yourself thinking of what could have happened if it went south. if you hadn’t grabbed her in time, and if you didn’t switch places just before pennywise launched at you... absentmindedly tracing the scar down your stomach, you think of the absolute lack of regret you feel to this day. you always had this joke that you wanted to kill her, but how much of that was true?

“darling, did the cold already go and rot your brain?” bev faux-pouts, “not that there was much to begin with, but i’m still worried.” the stack of blankets was now under her arms with one stretched out as she began to wrap it around herself.

never mind. sometimes you did want to kill her.

by habit, you went on your tip toes in order to get to bev’s face, but she was already crouched a couple inches from your face. trying to keep your racing heart under wraps, you choke out a semi-convincing “don’t make me murder you, beverly.”

she grins back your serious face. "aww no, i couldn’t let you do that. the knives and other weapons are also stored up there.” she teases, slinging her arm around your shoulder and dragging you to deliver the blankets to the boys.

"oh, fuck off." you shove bev's arm off of you and walked back into richie, eddie, and stan's room. true to your word, you kneeled down to the floor and gently rolled stan’s head towards you. placing your two fingers against his pulse point, you giggle to yourself at the absurd action. if it wasn’t already obvious that he was indeed alive, he groans under you, but you shush him in time. lightly stroking his curls, you whisper. "i’m just checking up on you, stan,” placing the second blanket onto him. he groaned back.

quietly tip-toeing towards the bed, you tossed the other blanket over richie and eddie. “i swear, these guys would be dead already without us.” you laugh to yourself.

a dim light flickers from the living room and casts a light across the hall. you shut the door behind you as you leave, going into the living room to see bev on the sofa, engulfed in her own large fleece blanket. the only thing peeking out was her face and hands as her she alternated flickering her lighter's warmth on her fingers.

without thinking, you plop by her on the sofa. “whatcha doing there, you pyro?”

“it’s getting so fucking cold,” bev half-heartedly jokes. you can see her eyebrows are furrowed in concentration, but her voice was so contradictingly soft it made your heart melt.

you extended your open hand to her and she stared at it. “blood oath part two? promise to never be sober again during a powercut?”

“i wish, and shut up. don’t play dumb with me, beverly.”

you notice the slightest tinge in her cheeks as she places her hand along with her lighter in yours. you immediately recoil at her freezing fingertips and the lighter clatters to the ground. bev rolls her eyes and shifts away, “first you want to hold my hand, secondly you’re acting like i have fucking HIV.”

“firstly, smartass, i’d still hold your hand if you had HIV-”

“aww-”

“because it’s a blood-borne pathogen so unless you bleed or shit or lactate on my hand, i’m safe.”

bev’s face scrunches up. “how romantic.”

“now shut it and give me your hand already.” you say, placing your palm out for her again.

now bev is the one rolling her eyes at you for a change. she gives you her hand, much slower this time though, careful not to have you pull away again. not having you pull away? why was this something she was considering?

immediately, bev felt the heat from your skin radiate against hers’, instantly igniting her skin in goosebumps. she instinctively gave you her other hand and you take with a soft smile.

“now...why the hell are you built like a goddamn radiator.” bev grumbled, rubbing her hands together under yours.

“well, i don’t see you complaining, do i?” you raise your eyebrows.

“i’m not mad...it’s just that it’s not like you need it,” bev says between chuckles, “you’re like five feet tall. not exactly a lot of surface area to heat up.”

“you’re such a dick, bev. you’re losing your hand-holding privileges,” you side-eye, pulling your warm fingers away.

she gasped, “oh, don’t you dare.”

“yes, i do. it’s not like i’m dying to feel your freezing hands on me, bev.” you desperately try to make the statement sound as sarcastic as you can, but it ends up coming out much shakier than expected.

even in the dark, you can see the glint of bev’s mischievous grin. “oh really? you don’t want to feel my freezing hands?” “is that a trick question?” you sigh exasperatedly, “because if you as much as-”

suddenly, you feel bev’s ice-cold fingers press against the skin on your ribcage and you immediately squeal. you clamp your hand over your mouth at the scare, you try and contain the others sounds that escape you as she further presses her freezing hands against your warm skin. scrambling away from her grasp, you slap the back of her head.

“you stop that right now or i will leave you on your own porch to freeze,” you threaten through gritted teeth.

“mmhm, like you would.” she teases, continuing to press the pads of her still-cold fingertips into your stomach.

you felt your heart rate rise significantly, to the point that you were sure that your unknown warmness was actually due to bev making the blood pump 10x more than normal. every braincell swimming inside your head was on the brink of short-circuiting at the feeling of bev’s hands dancing along the edge of your bra. what the hell is she thinking?

after a couple more rounds of her threatening to freeze your midriff and you threatening to crack open a window, you both surrender and allow her keep her hands clasped between yours, resting atop your chest.

“are you not getting any warmer?” you groan, forcing yourself to snap out of your own feelings.

“hey, you’re the hot-pack here. do you think i’m feeling any warmer?” she goes back to press her freezing palms against your stomach.

“no, no, no, do not do that again.”

bev sighs, “then what the hell am i supposed to do?” she sits upright and tightens the blanket around her head. shifting away from you, she shivers her way back into the other end of the sofa. “i’m dressed in triple the layers you are, moved around way more than you have, i’m even wearing this gigantic fleece eyesore-”

“oh for fuck’s sake just come back here.” you roll your eyes.

bev moves about an inch closer.

you feel your heart constrict in your chest and you let yourself say it before you could think it any further, “i said, come here.” you lift one of your arms and gesture for her to come closer. scooting your body near to the end of the sofa, it was clear that the space you made was so she could easily crawl in next to you.

“are- are you... you want me to-”

you’re sure your whole face has gone red. bev she already can’t stand you so why not just make it even more awkward, huh? you bit your tongue gently, calming yourself down. if bev didn’t know that you offered to cuddle with her just because you could, then that was her fault for being so daft. you sigh, resuming back into your deadpan state. “yeah, i can’t listen to another minute of your whinging.”

“no, i heard you, i just-” she stammers, looking equally red herself. you feel a huge tiny sense of pride as you realised you’ve rendered bev speechless. beverly marsh. speechless.

“what are you waiting for?” you tease, “a formal invitation?”

having the upper hand for once was refreshing, if not thrilling. being the one to tease her and watch her become flustered was something you wish could happen more often.

bev’s face breaks out in the softest smile you’ve ever seen. she slowly makes her way over to you, shifting her body close to yours without touching you yet. “is that too much to ask for? a formal invitation?” you let out an unexpected genuine laugh at her silliness and bev giggles in unison. this was different than your default laughter made of semi-amusement and sarcasm. she rests her weight against you, her cheek gently pressing into your collarbone. her fingertips resume their spot against the flushed skin of your stomach and your own cheeks turn red again. there wasn’t a functional reason for her to do that anymore.

“stop that before i regret this, bev.”

“there’s no way in hell you regret this.” she grins, followed by the faintest whisper of an “i sure don’t.”

you were about to reply and perhaps mention how you’d be okay with her falling asleep in your arms, that you could tolerate such juvenile behaviour. you know, in the name of public health and safety, but bev beats you to it.

“just let me warm up here for ten minutes, alright. then you can let go and i’ll sleep on my side right after,” she rushes out.

that wasn’t how you thought it was going to know. your heart sinks slightly at her words but you try not to take it personally. what else could you do? it was almost like a wake-up call, reminding the both of you that this wasn’t normal for you and bev.

after a minute or so, you found yourself absentmindedly weaving your fingers through bev’s auburn hair, gently combing it with your hands like you did earlier with stan. “you have such soft hair,” you whisper against her hair.

you hear her mumble against the blanket indistinguishably and you find yourself closing your eyes at the vibrations of her voice against you. if only bev wanted to stay here like this and this feeling between the two of you could last more than the next ten minutes. you let your eyelids drift down momentarily, and you smile at the thought.

just a couple minutes later, your mind jolts back awake, and your heart sinks at the thought of having to wake her up so she could move to her side of the sofa and sleep. you reach over to feel the ends of her hair between your fingers again, grounding yourself to this feeling one last time before bev had to wake up. once you peel your eyes open however, you immediately shut them against the bright light shining at you. was richie planning on abducting y’all in the middle of the night again? gently prying your eyes open for the second time, you notice the light is shining from the window. you sigh in relief.

wait. the window?

your eyes shoot open fully. the hail had stopped. and it’s day time.

snapping your head down to bev, you take in her figure still fit snugly into your side. her free arm rests across your chest, her legs were entwined with yours. ...and her electric blue eyes stare right into you. your heart instantly jumps into your throat as you scramble for excuses, fuck, anything that would keep you from explaining yourself.

instead, she shifts her body upwards so she’s fit even tighter against your side, placing her face into the crook of your neck. her lips were right at your pulse point, sending your mind spiralling at the thought that she could probably feel how fast your heart was beating right now. her lips move against your skin, saying something barely above a whisper.

“you tell anyone about this and i’ll fucking end you.”

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itsagrimm · 3 years

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Imperial!Tech 2

Is it even romantic without murder?

Imperial!Tech is a delight and I am worried why I have fun writing a murderous lost nerdy boi. will likely do a part 3.

about 2.000 words

part 1

Part 3

CN insults, violence, murder, discriminatory behaviour, very toxic behaviour, soldier life in a fascist state, tiny bit of fluff or Manipulation depends on your perspective, blood, pain, talk of injury. imperial!Tech is a bit of a tease but he will come around

Imperial!tech X they*them Y/N reader

“This will not suffice. Repeat.”, Commander Tech ordered.

His command was calm and detached, a contrast to the exhausted and heavily panting Elite Squad soldiers.

They looked at each other. None of them having the strength to continue their practice. But also none of them having the will to argue with their commander.

Y/N looked up to the observatory deck. Commander Tech was up there, his black armour contrasting with the white walls.

“Is there a problem, ONCE?”, the voice of the commander echoed in Y/N helmet, using the moniker the elite squad had given Y/N.

“No sir. Can we get a short break before a new try?”

The commander glanced down before looking at the holopad in his hands again.

“The elite squad endurance and recovery time is miserable as expected. I calculated your performance to be at least on par with regular clone troopers. I see now that it was a mistake, and I will have to lower my expectation further & readjust my strategies to your … lacking skill level.”

“I am sorry, sir.”

“It is not your mistake to be born inferior.”, the commander stated flattly, “Your next round will be in 5 minutes standard.”

The Elite Squad looked at each other. Their commander was in a mood. Since his injury on Bracca the Squad had not been in action and commander Tech worked them into the ground with his bone breaking practice runs.

“It is impossible.”, ES-02 said using a private chat without the commander, “Who is he comparing us to? The commanders’ expectations are inhuman. Only some kind of super squad could execute his mind-boggling plans in the time he gives us.”

They nodded in agreement.

“He expects us to be at least as good as the regular clone troopers.”, ES-04 stated.

ES-03 laughed: “Yeah we are better than thosemeat droids. And what does he mean with regular clones? Is there even fancier cannon fodder out there?”

“Commander Tech is noticeably different from other clones. Maybe there are more like him out there?”, Y/N pointed out.

“Oh maker, imagine more copies of that pretentious smart mouth up there.” ES-03 rolled his eyes.

“Get in position and execute plan 8C.3 .”, the commanders voice cut through their chatter. ONCE felt as if they got caught bad mouthing Tech.

“Yes sir.”, they replied and got into position.

A ping from a private channel ringed. It was ES-03.

“You are quiet protective of our commander Tech, my dear ONCE. Is there something I need to know?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well, … it is always ‘yes sir’ and ‘of course sir’ and sometimes you are both gone in the night. And our dear commander got a lovely visit in the med bay when he was wounded. You even bring him caf somet-“

“ES-03, mind your business.”

“No need to get so aggressive. I am sure it is nothing. And I am sure it is just a coincidence that he leaves you out of punishments or giving you the safest positions in his strategies…”

ONCE said nothing.

Since that time in the hangar the commander had some allure and to admit that meant a defeat ONCE could not afford.

“Well my dearest ONCE, got nothing to say about that? I-“

Static cut through their transmission.

“ES-03, I must inform you that I am very disappointed by your unprofessional behaviour within the Elite Squad which I will not tolerate anymore.”

“Commander? Is that you?”

“Yes of course, who else did you expect?”

ES-03 turned around and looked up to the observatory deck.

Commander Tech’s expression was unreadable, his eyes hidden by the reflecting glasses.

For a moment none of them moved. Then ES-03 took of his helmet and started shouting.

“Are you spying on us? Are you listening to all our private conversations???”, he screamed with a red head.

The commanders lips moved but up there and without his helmet ES-03 could not hear the commanders answer.

“Calm down”, ES-04 tried to defuse her squad member’s anger.

“I am NOT calming down! The sick dirty clone listens to our private channels!”

“Mate, it is not worth it to start a fight like this now.”, ES-02 added, “put your weapon down and think about it.”

“Are you serious??? Do you think I am a threat with this crappy old DC-17? A danger to any of you?! No, it’s this meat bag of a clone who should be afraid of me!”

ONCE flinched at ES-03’s words and readied their weapon.

He was out.

An angry man was a dangerous man.

ONCE former life as a bounty hunter had taught them this lesson well.

Static cut through their helmet again before ONCE heard commander Techs voice.

“Tell ES-03 that the Empire has issued an order to all commanding officers to listen into all communication of their soldiers. It is also very much encouraged to record it.”

“Are you sure that will calm him down, sir?”

“I don’t care about that. He either learns how to live with imperial command or he does not.”

“You are testing him.”

Tech paused.

“Follow your orders, soldier.”

He cut the transmission.

ES-03 was still shouting. His spit landed on ONCE helmet when he turned toward them.

“What did that clone say, my dearONCE??? You two just talked, didn’t you?!”

He sounded furious. His eyes burning like laser blasts into ONCE body.

“He said, checking all communication between soldiers is the new imperial standard to which the commander simply has complied.”

“Fuck that!”

ES-03 stepped closer, his DC-17 blaster still in his hands.

“Fuck that! Fuck that clone! Fuck the Empire! Fuck YOU, you little imperial whore!”

He raised his blaster, aiming for ONCE.

ONCE got cold. Trained instincts kicking in. They rolled sideways behind one of the training blocks to avoid the shot.

A blue blast slightly grazed their helmet, but the adrenaline made it impossible to tell whether or not ONCE got hit.

“ES-03! Stand down!”, Tech’s voice commandeered from somewhere close. He must have left the observatory deck.

“HA! What are you going to do, little nerdy boi? Do you want to protect your little pet over there?! Don’t even try! You are not even a real man!”

Another blue blast shot through the air.

ONCE could hear the Tech and other Squad members taking cover.

“He really did go full rage.”

“Not everyone is cut out for the soldier life.”

“Not everyone is cut out for the Empire!”

“What do we do?”

“Cut the chatter, soldiers”, Tech commandeered, “Take ES-03 out. Shot to kill.”

“Sir?!”

“We can stun him!”

Instead of an answer Tech jumped over the training block he was couching behind and kicked ES-03. ONCE heard the blaster slide over the floor and the sound of fists colliding with skin.

Over and over again.

The sound got wetter.

ES-03’s screams turned into pleas before going silent.

XXXXXXX

Another rotation on Kamino. Another dark night in the bunk room of the Imperial Elite Squad. Another nightmare.

Y/N woke up and looked around. Everything was calm except for the rain knocking at the window and the slow breaths from their fellow soldiers. Commander Tech was missing as always.

Weeks since the Commander had been hurt on Bracca. Days since ES-03 s death. Hours since he – since Tech – had looked at y/n. Why was that such a painful thought? He was a horrible man, a murderer!

He is just a good soldier, he follows orders. Just like you.

Y/N closed their eyes. Pictures of Tech beating ES-03 to death flashed before their eyes and with them the realization that whatever crimes and murders Tech committed, Y/N committed them alongside him. Two monstrous beings in service of a monstrous Empire.

The door to the bunkroom opened silently, only a light draft giving away the silhouette in the door frame. Y/N glanced to the door. It was the commander. He looked at the sleeping elite squad members and through the room as if he was searching for something.

Y/N got up on their elbows and looked at the commander.

Their eyes met.

“ONCE”, he whispered, “Come with me.”

Y/N got into their boots and followed the commander. The long white halls of Tipoca, the kaminoan capital, were empty and quiet. Tech lead the way but surprisingly they passed the hangar and soon arrived at his little office.

He turned around.

“I require your assistance, ONCE.”, he explained in a calm voice, using the moniker the elite squad had given Y/N.

“Now?”, ONCE answered.

“Yes, now.”

They looked at each other. Tech looked horrible. He had dark circles under his eyes so prominent, that even his glasses couldn’t hide them. His head wound from Bracca had left severe, still bloody scars and his hair was unkept and in patches from the burn he survived.

“What is it, commander?”

Instead of an answer he opened the door to his office. It was a little room, full of unfinished projects and gadgets, a wall scribbled with complex formulars ONCE was not in the mood to fathom and a littered table with various unfinished reports.

The workspace of the commander surprised ONCE. It was a stark contrast to the thoroughly planning and executing commander they knew.

“Can you cut my hair?”

“Sorry, sir?”

ONCE turned away from the room and faced the commander. His face was reserved but his voice had a telling neediness in it. The commander, Tech, he needed help.

“Well, I cut my own hair. I can try cutting yours. But I am no professional.”

He nodded.

“I noticed.”, he paused and smiled apologetically for his ambiguous phrasing, “That you cut your own hair, I mean.”

ONCE was speechless. He had smiled.

“I have my personal reservations towards the imperial service corps and their droid hairdressers. And the other option is to ask another trooper since I do not have the skill to cut my hair. But quite frankly the thought of trained regular soldiers having blades near my throat and more importantly my still healing wounds being opened up by some well meaning yet bad practising self-learned barber, is distressing which is why I require you to cut my hair.”

“In the middle of the night?”

“I was not aware of the need for sunlight in order to cut hair. Can you elaborate?”

ONCE suppressed a smile.

“I am sorry, sir. The circumstances are just a bit unusual. But I can try cutting your hair. And I do not plan on cutting your throat.”

“Good to know.”

He nodded casually, satisfied with ONCE’s answer, and produced a hair clipper from somewhere before seating himself on a chair with his back towards them. It was a captivating moment. ONCE looked at the hair clipper in their hand with its tiny blades and the commanders turned back to them. He had defined yet narrow shoulders for a soldier and a muscular back, visible through the thigh blacks. His bare neck was visible, and his occipital moved under his skin when he turned and looked at ONCE.

“It is alright. Feel free to give me whatever hair cut you choose to be fitting. As long as it is functional, I am content.”

ONCE breathed in. That was the commander. And they were about to cut his hair like they were good ol’pals or family. Like they were more. It was a sign of trust so unusual on Kamino, yet he had asked for it.

“You will need to take your glasses of.”

He complied and waited.

ONCE touched his hair to feel its texture before cutting. It was soft. Like a child’s.

They started cutting both sides to even out the burned parts and help with the sensitive skin around his scars before shortening the rest. Burned curls after curls fell on his shoulders and he brushed them away with his hands.

His hands. His murderous hands. They were large and had long fingers with little cuts from tinkering around. How did it feel being touched by them?

ONCE finished cutting, walked around Tech to look at the commander and squatted to see him from an even perspective. He looked good.

“This will work, sir.”

Instead of an answer he stretched his arm out and grabbed ONCE’s jaw.

“Thank you, Y/N.”

He got up and turned away.

Part 3

#imperial tech #the bad batch tech #tbb toxic tech #tbb #tbb tech #the bad batch #swtcw #order 66 #clone x reader #good soldiers follow orders #tech x reader #tech x y/n #tech x you #clone force 99 #clone commanders #slow burn #romatic murder

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du0tine · 3 years

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𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐖!

prominent use of bad language. mentions of people hooking up and using drugs but no explicit description, there is no smut in this prologue but are some light suggestive scenes. description of a drug overdose, drug intoxication and hallucinations. mentions of candy flipping: the use of MDMA and LSD combined. main character death and resurrection. graphic imagery. light mentioning of religious anecdotes.

viewer discretion is advised.

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄:

THIS IS THE FIRST PART TO THE PROLOGUE!

at the end of the second prologue you may choose a route that will lead you to one of the four stories with either:

na jaemin, jung jaehyun, wong yukhei or xiao dejun.

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓:

@stayinzencity @prettyjaems @hunjins @neonun-au @bumblebeenct @neojaems + there may have been more people but i kinda forgot to write them down sorry! lmk if you would like to be added. just let me know which member’s route, you can choose as many as you’d like.

It was all too confined.

Sweaty bodies aggressively shoving against each other in the mosh pit. People falling from side to side, crushing each other as they flailed their bodies around. The smell of DMT lingered in the air clouding your thoughts ever so slightly, tinging your mind with a light haziness. As the vibrant, disco lights blinded you, making your sight kaleidoscopic. You were seeing double and it didn’t help since it served as the only source of light in this underground club. You were pretty sure that had you not been so painfully sober and not shit faced drunk you would’ve been pressed against the club’s dirty floor next to some girls abandoned, dirty thong with people jumping on top of you, crushing your body.

It was hopeless. You’d lost sight of your friends from the moment you got into this dreaded hole of sweaty bodies, quite literally being engulfed by the ocean of people. Your body felt like a pulp, compressed and sweaty, falling apart at the seams. Even your feet were terribly blistered since your toes began to sink further down, your heels pressing uncomfortably against the leather material. Scanning the crowd, you desperately look for an exit to find the bathroom. Of course, you weren’t expecting it to be any better. There would most likely be people hooking up or doing drugs in the empty stalls but you’d at least expect less people inside and more space to just collect yourself and find your friends since there was no way you could just leave. The lineup was almost an hour long and the bouncer wasn’t going to let you in twice.

Finally you spot the broken LED sign that held the exit sign. It’s hues sparking above the crowd, omitting an array of bright colours that mostly alternated between red and blue. Overjoyed, you roughly shove people out of your way, getting shoved back a few times in return but overall, the heavy traffic pushed you closer to the exit and finally you were met with a dimly lit, long corridor. It was rather empty except for the few clusters of people either nearly fucking on the spot or passed out on the floor.

Carefully, navigating your way through the hallway you almost slip on some dark yellow vomit. Your heels squelching against the ground as you mentally cringe feeling disgusted. Nearly yelling out loud at the person who’d thrown up but much to your dismay they were long gone with their face against the floor, eyes shut tight. Roughly dragging the scuff of your shoe against the floor you wipe the putrid substance off before continuing your march through the hallway of hell.

The further you went, the darker it got and you were starting to think you’d come the wrong way. There was no bathroom. Hell, there wasn’t even an exit; it was just a dingy, dark hallway with absolutely no end. As you continued downwards you start to feel uneasy, almost as if there was someone watching you. With each and every step away from the dance floor you hear the music become more and more faint, the sound of the bass thumping lightly along with the sound of the crowd almost disappearing. Soon enough it became painfully silent, the only noise that bounced against the walls of the corridor were your own and they omitted from the clapping of your heels that clacked against the cold floor.

One, two, three, four steps and you start to hear double. Stopping in place, you’re met with a silence. It’s just you and this hallway you think to yourself before taking a few more steps ahead and then hearing it again. It was definitely the sound of someone’s shoes, ones besides yours. Perhaps, someone was following you? You weren’t sure. In fact, you were just too scared to turn your head around and take a look back mostly because something deep inside you warned you not to look back. Maybe there was something about how anxious this place made you feel.

As a result, it made your head spin, the vertigo making you feel nauseous as you struggled to even keep marching forwards through this endless abyss of a walkway.

Nonetheless, you push yourself to keep moving ahead. Forcing yourself to think that the further you went, the faster the bathroom would appear. A doorway that would you lead into a disgusting, nasty as hell bathroom filled with people from the club. This illusion you fed yourself forced you into a sense of false comfort as you tried your best to fight the urge to look back and keep moving.

Your mission was to reach the bathroom because you knew that you’d be safe then. Despite not even knowing what followed you, you kept your vision dead straight ahead becoming so focused you failed to realize how the walls around you twisted and contorted. The chipped paint started to come alive developing a pulse, beating as if it was alive like flesh inside the body of a human. Something that never saw the light of life until given the opportunity to do so and right now it was tearing itself apart stripping itself, revealing the grimy, almost ghastly white woodwork behind it as its paint wilted at your feet. Hypnotized you kept moving forward as the sound of those dreaded footsteps got closer and closer.

Clack, clack, clack it rang through your ears. Echoing through your eardrums and spiralling through your mind. The paranoia ate away at your sanity, it replaced all senses of feeling and thinking with fear and ignorance. You ignored how your mind screamed at you to turn back and stop going forward in fear of what lay ahead. Instead you listened to how your body forced you to place one foot right in front of the other and march straight into your doom.

Finally, you see an exit. A doorway that stands there perfectly still, illuminated around its perimeter with a bright mix of red and blue. You feel yourself fall at ease as you pick up your pace practically racing for the door as you hold a hand out eager to feel the cold, brass doorknob around your sweaty palms. The distance between you and the door close with each step that you take but so does the sound of those dreaded feet behind you. With merely a few inches between you and the door, you feel a gush of hot wind against your neck. Its someones breath.

It feels like your whole body falls into a frenzy, a complete panicking mess. As you finally grip onto the door knob giving it a rapid turn, twisting it with everything you had within you and yet, nothing. It doesn’t budge. Rather simply it stands there silently mocking you as you tug at the door. Your movements only becoming more violent when you feel someones hand atop your shoulder. Goosebumps erupt across your skin, decorating it like grains of sand, the granules sitting coldly atop your body. It surges through your frame and shoots up your spine as the hairs on the back of your neck stand up in shock.

“Going somewhere?” Questions the voice as you freeze in place. Your objective of getting the hell out momentarily pausing as you feel eerily intrigued by the voice. Who could it be? The voice was almost incoherent and yet, it held a tone that would perhaps come from a man. The vibrations from its voice made the shivers that stood at the top of your spine come tumbling back down onto your tall bone as you shudder in response. Just who exactly was this? You had to find out. After all, there was no going back now.

Mustering the very little courage that you had within the pits of your stomach, you tense up. Your muscles restricting themselves making your movements very slow as you take your time turning around. Your eyes glued to the ground, staring at the floor and only just realizing how it jiggled underneath you, almost as if you were standing on top of jello. It’s checkered black and white tiles moving around as you pivot, the toes of your feet sinking in ever so slightly.

You know you’re facing the figure when you see a pair of sleek, perfectly polished mens dress shoes in front of you. The gloss that radiants from the black shoes almost blind you as you can’t help but momentarily look away staring at your own feet that were beginning to sink deeper into the translucent, gelatine floor. Your heels doing nothing more but piercing into the meaty layer beneath you.

“My gosh, you’re so fucking high,” Snickers the voice as you snap your head upwards. Contorting your eyebrows in confusion as you quickly retort their observation, “I am not!”

As the words abruptly leave your mouth you can’t help but feel like you’ve had the wind knocked out of you. In front of you stands a masked man, dressed in a black suit that you could just tell was fabricated with the finest materials and by a crafted tailor no less. The tufts of his hair rotate between the colours of silver, an auburn brown, black and yellow blonde. The mask that adorns his face is plain white, with no slits for eyes nor a mouth leaving you astonished as to how exactly could this masked figure see but you don’t speak the thoughts of your mind. Almost as if you knew that questioning him would lead nowhere.

Instead you continue to gawk at him with your eyes wide, pupils extremely dilated. Your fruity lips drifted apart as you momentarily forget to breath. Slowly you watch as he brings a hand forward to rest on your cheek. Not even realizing how hot and flustered you were until you feel his cold hand caress your skin. He’s gentle as he continues to observe you. Making you feel like a delicate flower in the grasps of a strong being, one wrong move and you could be crushed.

“I’m not high,” Are the words that flutter past your lips once more as you stare at him, your thoughts are in a daze. You can’t even think straight as he lets out a laugh.

“Sure you aren’t. In fact you totally didn’t spend the night candy flipping for nothing, you’ve called upon me and that’s…pretty sweet. The taste of death, reward of the afterlife,” He replies, his fingers leaving your soft cheek and moving towards the locks of your hair as he runs his fingers through them, combing it gently ridding it of its knots.

“Death? I’m sorry what?” You question as you snap out of your thoughts pushing his hand away from yourself as you look around you. Nothing looked normal, the hallway seemed to replicate one from the inside of a twisted funhouse, except this was all but fun. As the realization of being somewhere that you don’t belong in hits you, you begin to panic. The fear settling in at the pit of your stomach, clouding your thoughts as your surroundings begin to darken. Everything seems to take a turn for worse as the floor beneath you continues to cave in faster and faster. Soon you find yourself knee deep staring in horror at the man in front of you, desperately you reach out your hand begging him to pull you up, to save you.

“You’re mistaken! I’m not dead, I was just fine. Perfectly sober in fact!” You shriek out absolutely horrified as you grip onto the jacket of his suit. You’re now thigh deep and sinking in faster. Calmly he holds your hand with his before bringing his other hand and placing it atop your head once more.

“I’m afraid you are dead. Having overdosed in the reckless amount of MDMA and LSD you consumed, eager to reach that ecstasy. That feeling of being in a euphoric state of mind, the bliss coursing through your veins only to be crushed by the mindless bodies of those whom you once danced with, then dragged out by your very own friends. Only to be left alone in the corridor soaked in your vomit.”

Deadpanned, the realization hits you hard. You really were dead and in fact, you’d walked past your very own dead body twice. Astonished and feeling completely drained you look up at the man with sorrowful eyes. This time you don’t speak as you stare at him with oceans in your gaze, the tears seeping from the ducts of your lifeless eyes as they fall down your now stone cold cheeks. You’re now waist deep into the ground as you continue to sink further down with nothing left to say.

“You’ll have a second shot, if you make things right,” He says before using his body weight and strength to push your body down into the ground with his hand. Eyes widening in shock you scream in horror as he submerges you completely, engulfing your voice in the floor beneath as everything swallows you alive and falls black.

It feels like you’re floating, your body is essentially weightless as you drift around in the dark mindlessly. You simply exist with no burdens atop your shoulders, no responsibilities and no sins. Your mind is a clean slate and it feels like you’re swimming around, sauntering inside a dark womb. Everything that surrounds you is inexplicable and unknown but it makes itself present. It’s a cold comfort. Perhaps, this is what it’s like to be dead. No hell, no heaven, simply a dark void. A looming and mysterious abyss where you’re overcome by nothing more except peace and eternal silence.

The silence is short as you suddenly feel a large pressure against your body. An unknown force dawning its mass, crushing you as your senses abruptly flutter awake. You begin to feel more confined, your surroundings no longer providing comfort but working against you. Slowly the unknown force begins to coat your body, covering every nook and cranny with its substance. Rubbing against your skin, grinding with pressure. Its the feeling of small, tiny granules but perhaps millions of them. Though this time it isn’t exactly goosebumps, no longer a natural phenomenon that occurs as a reaction in the human body. Instead, it seems to be sand as it works its way around your figure, engulfing you. Making you feel as if you’re caught inside an hourglass with no way to go but down. The sensation is suffocating as you catch particles of the sand inside your mouth, drying up your taste buds. Its objective is to swallow you whole and consume your existence with itself.

There is no longer any zen. The pulsations that once lingered through mind, body and soul is now gone and replaced with another kind of awakening. One that is urgent, one that screams for you to get out. In desperation you begin to panic, flailing your arms around. Your movements are drastically slower than you expect with the heavy sand slowing your momentum. With one arm in front of the other you swim your way through the sand, clawing your way out of the dark, pushing away from the suction that holds you down. You don’t stop until you feel the light breeze of what seems to be air brushing past your fingertips.

You’ve partially reached the surface. The adrenaline is now coursing through your veins, pumping through your heart with such speed. It feels like your heart is ready to burst through your ribcage at any given moment. But you don’t stop fighting against the quicksand until you’re met with the nights sky, seeing how the constellations are littered upon its dark blue canvas. Your eyes twinkle in the moonlight as you gasp for air, spitting out any of the remnants of sand that linger inside your mouth. Hacking rather loudly as you exhale the sand and inhale in the sweet air.

Mustering the last bit of energy that remains inside of you, you pull your torso out of the sand. The lower half of your body are next to follow as you flop onto the ground and onto your back. The scene is one that someone may have seen in a zombie movie, the undead coming back to life crawling their way out of their graves. Their resting place no longer sufficient. Reborn they quench for the thirst of human flesh except for you, you’re thirsty for life. To live again is all you wish for and you’ve been granted exactly that. Having been given the chance of taking another shot at this cruel game of life. Unbeknownst to you, you’re willing to do whatever it takes to make this permanent.

Gazing up at the nights sky you’re blown away at the sight. The sticky situation of being buried alive is no longer relevant having been replaced with the beauty of the world. Bringing forward a hand you hold it up towards the sky, holding it in reference next to the moon. Like porcelain, you shine. The flesh of your skin is soft and supple like a newborn baby, everything about you is new. You’re no longer dead but instead given the chance to take host in this new vessel. The body is still yours, it is you but it’s new and improved. There are no signs of your old body, no vomit seeping past your lips tainting your skin. Your bones are perfectly intact with no signs of damage, there is no wear and tear, everything seems to be working perfectly fine. All that remains is the black Saint Laurent minidress that you wore that night, in its pristine condition.

Sitting upwards you observe your surroundings before dusting the sand off of your body and proceeding to stand up. The landscape is rather vast and covered in nothing but sand. However, it seems like you’ve dug yourself out from the side of a sand dune. The tall hill that sits proudly behind you seems like a good idea to climb. Perhaps there will be more to see at the top, a perfect vantage point. Standing upwards you quickly start climbing, your feet dragging into the sand causing you to fall on your face a couple times but nonetheless you reach the top and what lies in front of you takes your breath away.

It’s a bustling city, lit up by street lanterns and filled with people. It glows in the dark, radiating the silhouettes of its architectural elements. The tall and looming arabesque styled buildings make you feel tiny in comparison. As it draws you in, it doesn’t even look real. Perhaps, this was all a mirage. None of this could be real, you could just be in a state of delusion having just dug yourself out of a hole in the ground but nonetheless you feel hypnotized completely captured by the beauty what lay ahead. In a trance you make your way towards the city.

Your eyes don’t leave the landscape. Admiring how despite how late it seemed, the people were just as lively. The closer you got, the louder the sounds of the city came alive. The place was surrounded by the desert except for the large port docked with multiple ships to the left of the city where it stretched out onto a large body of water. Perhaps, it led out to the seas? You didn’t know. This place seemed almost mythical like a story coming to life, none of it felt real until you found yourself standing in the middle of it all, walking through its streets.

As you wandered around you were met with the confused stares of its citizens as they all gawked at you. Taking one look at yourself and back at them you soon realized you weren’t dressed like they were. The people of the city were adorned in different types of silk garments, light enough to withstand the heat of the dessert but strong enough to protect from the winds at night. Meanwhile you wore something that just seemed skimpy in comparison to their clothing, it made it obvious you weren’t from here.

Ignoring their stares you continue to wander around following the crowds of people. All of which seemed to be heading in one particular direction straight into the upper north side of the city. Up north stood a perfectly, coral white palace that overlooked the city. One that perhaps resembled the Taj Mahal but exceeded in size and was much more grandiose. Strung up in what looks like an assortment of lights it glistens brightly. People fluttering into the palace through its big gates but not just anyone. The people granted access inside were dressed elegantly and much more expensive than the average citizen.

Just what exactly lay ahead? You had to find out.

Stopping a random lady in her path you quickly question her about what lies ahead. After receiving a rather annoyed look from her she’s quick to give you a snarky reply, “We’re celebrating the success of the Jung Family. Their son has gratefully claimed our land back from those filthy pirates.”

“The Jung family? Pirates?” You question out loud as she looks at you stunned. Quickly you change the tone of your reply when you see her squinting her eyes at you in suspicion. Rapidly repeating yourself and fixing your mistake, “Oh yeah! The Jung family! And those pesky little pirates huh?!”

The women simply rolls her eyes in response before quickly scurrying up ahead not wanting to be bothered by your horrible facade. You watch as she walks past the guards and inside leaving you behind. Standing in the outdoor lobby, your feet are cold and perhaps rather grimy against the polished marble floors as you debate whether or not to go inside. It seemed like there was a definite possibility they wouldn’t allow you indoors but maybe going inside would provide you answers on where exactly you were. Taking a deep breath you stride towards the gates, not making any eye contact with the guards.

You maybe get a foot into the palace before you’re stopped and roughly thrown back out.

“No beggars allowed inside.”

Contorting your eyebrows in confusion you look at the guards with disbelief. Here you stood dressed in something that definitely cost more than what someone else was wearing and yet you were denied access inside. Before you could lash out at the guards for being so rough you remember these people aren’t bouncers, in fact it looked like they were from a whole other time period.

This only proved just how out of place you were and you weren’t going anywhere unless you found a change of clothes or somehow snuck inside. Standing back where you once stood with the guards glaring at you, your eyes wander the palace looking for a way in. Glancing at every potential entry point, you scan the entire perimeter. Finally coming to the conclusion that every square inch of the building seemed impossible to penetrate through unseen and with the last few posh citizens piling inside and the gates slamming shut you felt hopeless.

Here you were in a city you didn’t recognize. A place that looked like the Atlantis of the sands, something out of a mythological book with nowhere to go. Just as you turn around to leave the palace something catches your eye. Within the corner of your peripheral vision you see a figure dart in the near distance, whipping your head in that direction just in time to see a young man climb through a window. His silver hair whipping through the wind. One moment he’s there and the next he’s not.

For a moment you decide that maybe this isn’t worth it. Sneaking in couldn’t promise anything but if it did, the reward would probably be huge. Either that or it held huge consequences. Standing there you debate on whether or not you should go and when you remember the words of the man who’d greeted your soul that night his words speak to you once more.

‘You’ll have a second shot, if you make things right.’

Perhaps, this city you were thrown into meant something. A sign of the afterlife? Maybe something that held significant importance? After all, he was the one who’d transferred you here and granted you this new vessel and it seemed to be pretty clear to you by now that everything happens for a reason. Being granted this temporary second shot at life seemed too good to be true but it seemed like there’d be a price to pay if you didn’t accomplish what you were sent for. The only question was, what was it that you needed to do? Glancing at the window you watch as it blows the gold curtains from inside, fluttering it out in the wind. The entryway was almost signalling you inside. The silver haired man from before must have recklessly left it open.

Taking that as your signal, you run towards the opening. Quickly hoisting yourself up onto the window sill and before slipping inside, you hesitate. All that echoes through your mind is your subconscious screaming at you to just go for it, you do exactly that thinking,

“Fuck it. What’s the worst that could happen, dying twice?”

Like an absolute moron you tumble into the room colliding rather loudly with the hard floor. The whole idea of staying quiet and unseen seemed to be impossible for you to accomplish. Turning around you reach for the doors of the window thinking that at least covering your tracks would help. Just as your fingers brace against the metallic framing of the handle you’re stopped in your tracks.

“Hey,” Calls out someone. The tone of the voice isn’t commanding but instead rather friendly. Looking downwards, you’re met with a rather tall man. His black hair is sleeked back in a hairstyle, two small braids hanging from the side of his scalp. His dark , obsidian orbs are staring right back at you as you gawk at him like a deer caught in the headlights. Clad in the same attire as everyone else you simply brush him off, quickly reaching for the knob and trying to slam it shut in fear of being caught. Only to have your movements halted when his large hand makes contact with your wrist.

“Leave the window open will you?” He asks as the corners of his mouth stretch into a rather playful grin.

“What? Why don’t you just go through the gate like everyone else?” You ironically retort as you attempt to shake his grip off with no success.

“What if I don’t belong here?” He questions. Raising his eyebrows rather theatrically as you freeze on the spot, “Just like you.” With those words you’re quick to release the knob and he’s just as quick to release his grip. He’d clearly been watching you and you were absolutely clueless as to just exactly how long.

The encounter is quick to set off your fight or flight instinct as you make a run for the door, trying to get as far away as possible from the window. Only to be stopped by the same man from before, plummeting to the floor merely inches away from freedom. He rolls you onto your back as he straddles your body, his weight doesn’t crush you in pain but he’s certainly applying pressure and it doesn’t feel great. Using one of his hands to hold both of yours above your head making you essentially defenceless as you try and kick him off with no result.

“Let’s just make something clear,” He begins. Slowly leaning in closer and closer towards you, stopping merely inches away from your face and specifically from your lips. His breath is hot against your skin as you inhale the heavy smell of tobacco and light cologne that omits from his body. Despite having nowhere to look but at him, deep down you feel hot. The burning sensation that rests at the pit of your stomach makes butterflies erupt inside. You can’t help but admire just how good looking he is and how dangerous. A combination you always couldn’t resist. Your chest is heaving up and down as you struggle to stay calm, your breath even hitches a couple times as his eyes burn into yours. He’s reading you silently like an open book and you can’t help but feel like this vulnerability is lustrous and you want more.

Slowly his other hand snakes up your torso, starting at your navel and tiptoeing through the valley in between of your breasts, finally stopping at your neck. His movements are agile and it feels like his fingers are dancing upon your skin. He takes his time knowing that he’s got the upper hand and that the ship sails his way, not yours.

Suddenly his hand is wrapped tightly around your neck, gripping the flesh with his slender, calloused fingers. As they press into the sides of your neck skillfully avoiding your windpipe. You’re thankful he isn’t holding you directly down or else he’d probably crush your only main source of breathing. As your vision starts to fall hazy, you’re seeing stars. It’s like peering into the milky way through a telescope looking at the numerous planets and right now you’re looking at Venus. He is beauty, he is mysterious and he is bold. If Venus was a boy it’d be this man hovering above you. Helplessly watching his every movement as he leans down closer gravitating towards your lips before swerving to the left and placing his mouth close to your ear. The situation makes your heart bounce almost as if you’ve just dodged an astroid.

“If you tell anyone about our little encounter, about me. I’ll go out of my way to kill you first and believe me my schedules pretty full,” The tone in his voice is menacing, definitely evoking more fear within you and you can’t help but gargle out a weak agreement in response. This man came to do business and it seemed like he’d barely decided to spare you and he definitely wouldn’t the next time. He must’ve been convinced with your response because you feel his body weight shift away from you. The sounds of his footsteps move towards the door, his weight creaking against the floor boards and just before he leaves, you prop yourself up calling out to him weakly, “W-who are you?”

Slowly he turns around looking down on you, the light from the corridor behind him illuminating his figure. “Let’s just say, I’m not very liked here,” Is his response as he brings a finger up towards his lips, twisting them and playfully and throwing away the make belief key. With that he’s gone, disappearing down the hallway and you can’t help but think of one word and one word only. The exact definition of just exactly who this man was, a pirate. Given tonights circumstances that the lady from before had mentioned, it didn’t look like things were going to end very well in terms of the celebration.

𝑨𝑳𝑳 𝑹𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑻𝑺 𝑹𝑬𝑺𝑬𝑹𝑽𝑬𝑫 ©︎𝑫𝑼0𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑬

#PART ONE OF THE PROLOGUE!#LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK AND IF YOUD LIKE TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST!#nct #nct 127 #nct dream #wayv #this was shit but I figured I should release SOMETHING #LMK IF U COULD FIGURE OUT WHICH TWO MEMBERS APPEAR FIRST!#nct fanfic #wayv fanfic #nct dream fanfic #nct 127 fanfic #na jaemin x reader #jaehyun x reader #Lucas x reader #xiaojun x reader

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bunny-hoodlum · 3 years

Text

Asynchronous With You: Ch 5.5

ship: naruhina

rating: teen (references to much ecchi this chapter)

tags: Modern Day AU, Foster Siblings, Family, Angst, Unrequited Love, Poor Communication

summary: An awkward journey full of self-denial and missed moments between two foster siblings. Perhaps their love will find the right timing someday.

She can't stand herself right now, so she makes him feel like he's the untolerated one

She just wants to be alone.

Between the abandonment from her parents, the fact that she wronged Hanabi and will deserve the worst outcome for it, to the way Naruto skillfully fucks up her emotions without even trying, she just wants it all to stop.

It's all… so itchy.

These events and circumstances, they gravitate to her, they stick to her fly-trap skin and die. And she can't be rid of it.

It's all fated.

Her whole existence is one incurable allergy, and continued exposure will only lead to anaphylaxis.

However, if she closes her eyes and lays very still atop her covers, she can dream of a world where everything is as it should be.

One where her parents cherish her and she and Hanabi are one of the closest sisters you'll ever see.

A world where Neji didn't lose his parents, yet it would still feel like he's always lived with her in the same house.

A world where Naruto had never been orphaned, had grown up secure in the love of his parents so that he didn't have to inebriate himself on his vices.

She just can't stand being his sister, because it makes her feel depraved.

She can't stand all the ways that she wants to compete against those other girls.

She's got the home advantage.

Proximity is everything, or it should be.

She doubts he would hate it if he found the hole had grown bigger. She doubts he would hate testing it out.

She pictures it and pictures it, and it's exciting. Tingles shoot down into her belly, traveling lower and lower.

It's so wrong how much she wants to be claimed.

She knows he wouldn't dare.

She knows he would hate it if the one offering themselves on the other side was her.

She can't stand how she had wanted to be curled against his side on the train ride to Neji, how she wished his voice would tickle her ears again like when they were kids, giving her the reassurance that she needed.

She can't stand how she had conspired with Neji to make Naruto feel off-kilter, like he didn't know her at all, just to hand off this whole cosmic unfairness onto him.

Any effort on her part brings them closer together as foster siblings, so really, could anyone blame her for giving up at this point?

She's starting to feel itchy again.

Hinata sucks in a sharp breath as she wills her legs to work.

She needs to apologize to him.

She wobbles out of her room, then leans against his bedroom door. She knocks against the wood. Her efforts are weak at first, hesitant pauses punctuated between each knock. Then desperation finally takes hold, and her knocking picks up as much volume as intensity.

She knows what she's here to do.

It's not that hard.

But the hushed desires crowding the back of her mind, the clawing need to clear the air and put her anxieties down for good, these make it so hard for her to breathe.

These make her not trust herself to be alone with him.

The door handle rotates, the click hitting her ears like the cocking of a gun hammer.

Her heart seizes in a panic.

He greets her with an affronted frown, then tugs at his earbud wires. Thunderous drums and riotous electric guitars buzzed like industrial wasps from the earbuds. When he hit pause on his phone screen, the absence of noise made their home feel like a cave.

Cold and vast.

"I-I have things to say." Her nose wrinkled with embarrassment.

Naruto stepped away from the door, allowing her passage into his room.

It feels like it's been forever since she's stepped foot in here. The posters were all different, and there was an abundance of them plastered along his walls. To her shame, the ceiling over his bed was also well-decorated with the ripped out pages of Gravure models. They all had different looks, different shapes and sizes.

Did he really have no preference?

As she hovered awkwardly in the middle of his room, he took a seat on his bed and patted the empty spot beside him.

She stared, her skepticism all too open.

"Hinata…" His eyes implored her, but when she would still go no closer to him, he was reminded of a life he had thought long-forgotten, back when he was treated like a germ. He shut his mouth, and buried that pain down deep. He couldn't bring himself to say those words. It felt way too pathetic.

His eyes followed her as she headed for his desk and slid the chair out from it. But then she stood there, staring at it too, like it would infect her.

With a growl, he collapsed onto his bed. "You're not going to sit, you're not going to talk--"

"I am going to talk."

"So talk." He laced his fingers behind his head, staring at her pointedly.

She pushed the chair back, and turned towards him, her hands wringing themselves to the point of splintering bones.

"I'm sorry. Neither of us have had a choice in all of this. The only thing we can choose to do is be better to each other."

His pointed look evolved with a lifted eyebrow. "Yeah, we kind of decided that early on, didn't we? I made sure to get along with Neji, and I protected you. It's what I could do. The bullying you endured didn't just stop for no reason."

"I-I know. And what I'm saying is, I'm the-the one whose g-given up on--" Her stuttering caused him to sit up.

"Hey, Hinata? Hey, hey, hey," He stood up and walked over to her, his hands clasping over her strangled ones. "It's okay. C'mon, it's okay. Try to breathe," he extricated her hands from each other and squeezed each of them in his own, offering her strength. "Breathe. Breathe."

But that shaky breath she took caused a few tears to let loose, and for her to question her purpose here.

When he wrapped his arms around her shoulders, holding her tight, her mouth smashed against his shoulder, the sobs wouldn't stop. The air was like pins in her throat and she felt so, so itchy.

His bedroom was caked in perfume and sex just as she had always imagined, and she wanted to wipe that all away.

"I c,c,can't be a g,good s,s,sister."

She wanted to love him fully.

He stroked her hair and shushed her.

"You'll be an amazing sister. That little brat already loves you. Hell, sometimes I think I won the lottery myself, y'know?"

She wanted to pound her fists against his chest. Instead she clawed the fabric of his lounge hoodie, because she may not be able to hold onto him like this for much longer.

I don't want to be your sister.

I don't want you for a brother.

These are the things she wishes she could say. With every intention of making it up to him, if he would have her.

Before she came here, she needed to gauge how badly he wanted to be part of this family. But now that he went and said something like that… she doesn't have the heart to take this away from him.

"I-I'll do better, Naruto-lun, I,I,I'll do better."

"Geez, you push yourself hard enough, don't you?" He teased.

In the world she dreams up when her eyes are closed, she's able to press her lips to his, all questions erased from both their minds as they melt into the rightness of each other's bodies.

In reality, this is as far as they can go.

AN: I didn't feel comfortable leaving them all passive-aggressive and whatnot, because I no longer like that part of my writing? I think in the past I was fascinated with the whole concept of 'this is what happens when you let things be', but lately it's not all that fascinating, it actually feels pretty dumb. So maybe this is just one of those stories where it's like, 'Yeah, this ain't working for this'. Also, I used to think communication, even if it's healthy, was boring no matter what. Like, 'Easily solved! There is no story!', but lately my mindset on that has evolved and maybe that's because of exposing myself to better stories and media. Anyways, another short one, unfortunately, but I hope you liked it! This chapter has allowed me to go back to advancing the plot with summaries, so I'm quite looking forward to speeding things up. IDK if there is actual NH juiciness up ahead, but we'll see the story allows. 😅 I really had imagined Hinata getting up to more bold 'hint-dropping hijinks' like she did with her shirt, but it seems like it wrote itself out. :( lesigh.

#naruhina fanfiction #naruto x hinata #naruhina #modern au #chapter 5.5

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Text

Fire and Light (ao3) - on tumblr: part 1, part 2, part 3

- Chapter 4 -

Nie Mingjue attended his first discussion conference as a ward of the Wen sect rather than a son of the Nie sect and found it more or less the same misery as it had always been, except with the extra twist of everyone looking at him with pity in their eyes.

The Jiang sect averted their eyes the way they always did. For all his talk about attempting the impossible, the only impossible thing Jiang Fengmian had ever dreamt of was a peaceful life, and his wife was strong in power but bitter and vicious in spirit, parceling out her love and sympathy in small dollops as if she thought she would run out if she gave too much of it away. That being said, their indifference and purely superficial show of sympathy was still better than the steely eyes of the Jin sect, which looked right at him with nothing but empty calculation, as if weighing him to see what use they could get out of him.

Lan Qiren, at least, looked genuinely upset to see him standing there in Wen colors, a frown creasing his brow with distress. Nie Mingjue wondered cynically if the Lan sect would have preferred that he and his brother be dead as martyrs instead of living symbols of Wen cruelty that, despite all their high-flying talk of rules and ethics, the Lan sect would do absolutely nothing about.

Still, he had been the man’s student once, so he bowed his head politely and called him teacher when Lan Qiren came to speak with him during one of the rest periods between speeches.

“Are you well?” Lan Qiren asked. “You are not being mistreated…?”

“Would it make a difference if I was?” Nie Mingjue asked. When Lan Qiren flinched, he shrugged. “In that case, honorable teacher, I’m fine. If you’ll excuse me, I need to go find my brother; he needs to be properly prepared for the competitions later.”

A flimsy lie, intentionally so, and Nie Mingjue wondered if he really had picked up something of Qishan Wen cruelty after all. It was only that it hurt him to see them there, standing free and saying nothing – the Lan had once been the closest allies of the Nie sect, just as the Jiang and the Jin were often paired together – and he couldn’t quite resist wanting to make them hurt, too, no matter how much he knew it was beneath him.

You were friends with my father and they murdered him, he wanted to shout. Murdered him, and I had to watch him die twice over! How can I be well? How can you dare to ask that of me, have you been well, as if I were still free to speak my mind, to be straightforward and honest, without having to always think of the pain that will follow later?

Maybe Wen Ruohan’s lessons really were starting to sink in, he thought bitterly, and hated himself for it.

He still didn’t apologize to Lan Qiren, but he did go to find Nie Huaisang, making the lie into truth. There wasn’t any point in registering his useless brother in any of the physical competitions, of course, but at every discussion conference there were also smaller competitions in the arts – calligraphy, painting, poetry – and Nie Mingjue was more than willing to lose a little of the pocket money he received each month (pointlessly, since he wasn’t allowed to leave the main manor or visit the markets of the Nightless City for fear that he would try to run away or make a scene) in betting on his brother’s success in those.

He also bet on Wen Qing in the competition of doctors’ apprentices, and Wen Ning in alchemy, archery and weiqi; he even put some money on Wen Chao for mathematics and told him so.

Wen Chao gaped at him. “Me? Mathematics?”

“You always answer those questions faster than anyone else,” Nie Mingjue pointed out, and patted him on the head the way Wen Chao not-so-secretly liked. “Do your best. If you place in the top twenty, I’ll have the kitchens make something sweet that you won’t have to share, something just for you.”

“…could I share it anyway? If I wanted to.”

“Of course,” Nie Mingjue said, pleased by the unexpected question and happy to show it. “It’ll be yours. You can do anything you want with it, even share.”

There weren’t even a full forty people planning to compete in mathematics, so he was moderately confident that Wen Chao – who wasn’t as stupid as he sometimes let himself think he was – would be able to place somewhere decent, and even if he didn’t Nie Mingjue wouldn’t hold it against him. He wouldn’t demand perfection and then ignore it the way Wen Ruohan did.

“Mingjue-xiong!”

Nie Mingjue turned to see Lan Xichen hurrying over, insofar as the Lan sect ever hurried. Lan Xichen’s younger brother was probably also getting ready for the arts competition – the two of them would undoubtedly dominate the juniors’ music competition, as they always did, and probably many of the other juniors’ categories as well – so it wasn’t a surprise to see him there, but it was still nice. They’d only spent a few months together during the summer Nie Mingjue had spent at the Cloud Recesses, his father trying to get him away from politics for at least a short time, but they’d been friendly back then, maybe even friends, even though Lan Xichen was a couple of years younger than him.

“It’s good to see you,” Lan Xichen said, his voice warm. “I wanted to write you a letter, but everyone said it was a bad idea.”

“It probably is,” Nie Mingjue admitted. He didn’t even know what he’d say in response to such a letter – what he was allowed to say, and what he wasn’t. “It’s good to see you, too. Are you competing in the fights later on?”

“I am, though I’ve heard that the main competition this year – swordsmanship – is going to be melee style, which means you’re certain to wipe the floor with everyone. But I can at least hope to place, if nothing else.”

Melee style favored the saber and the aggressive style of the Nie, so Lan Xichen was probably right – it wasn’t as though the Nie sect had sent any disciples, given that it was still officially in mourning for its sect leader. Nie Mingjue should be in mourning, should be refusing to eat meat since he was too young for the obligation to refrain from sexual congress to matter much to him, but it had been pretty clear from his first day at the Nightless City that he would either eat meat or have it forced down his throat. In the end, he’d given up on all the rest of it as well. He could mourn later, when he was free.

Assuming he’d ever be free again.

“Pity you can’t bet on a competition you’re participating in,” he teased, and Lan Xichen did him the grace of at least pretending to smile back. “Maybe you can get ahead of me in archery instead.”

Lan Xichen snorted at that. “I’m still counted among the juniors for archery, while you’re with the seniors,” he reminded him. “But somehow I don’t think that would make much of a difference.”

“I’m not that good at archery,” Nie Mingjue protested cheerfully. “Besides, I haven’t been allowed to practice it in months, not since –”

He stopped, realizing what he’d just said, and what he’d been about to say, from the way Lan Xichen’s face turned pale.

“Don’t think about it,” he advised his friend, turning his head away. He didn’t want to see Lan Xichen’s face like that, all sick with grief. “I try not to.”

Lan Xichen squeezed his hands. “You’re still yourself,” he said. “As long as you can keep true to that, nothing else matters.”

Nie Mingjue hoped he was right.

Nie Mingjue won the melee but lost in archery to Wen Xu, which was a result that pleased them both – Nie Mingjue was still growing and didn’t have the arm strength necessary to fully pierce the target, which gave Wen Xu’s equally accurate hits the small advantage needed to win.

“You’ll win it next time,” Wen Xu told him, and Nie Mingjue shrugged. “You will! You’ve grown nearly a quarter chi in the time that I’ve known you, and you weren’t short to start with.”

“And maybe next time the fighting won’t be melee,” Nie Mingjue pointed out. “There are formats that favor the sword more.”

Not to mention that next time, the main event wouldn’t be the sword, since discussion conferences generally rotated between the various martial skills.

Wen Xu rolled his eyes at him, though, clearly disregarding his words, and Nie Mingjue didn’t disagree - despite his words, he was proud of what he’d achieved.

He was even more proud of the younger children, though: Wen Qing was first in her competition and pleased as a well-fed cat about it, Nie Huaisang had placed second in calligraphy and fifth in poetry, and Wen Ning had gotten seventh in alchemy, his best result in years given his usual anxiety about performing in public. Wen Chao was the biggest surprise, having actually managed to come in fourth in mathematics, and everyone crowded around him, congratulating him, even as he stumbled around in a daze.

“He’d never tried to do well before,” Wen Xu said, catching Nie Mingjue’s gaze and his train of thought with it. “There wasn’t any point, since Father doesn’t care about the smaller competitions, only the main event, and mathematics is never a main event.”

“Surely the fun of winning is motivation enough?” Nie Mingjue asked. “He did well enough this year without advance study that he’d be sure to place in the top three in the next discussion conference if he really put in some effort.”

“He didn’t actually think he’d win,” Wen Xu said dryly. “He just didn’t want you to lose money.”

Nie Mingjue was about to explain that he didn’t care about the money – he wasn’t allowed to go spend it, as Wen Xu knew, and he didn’t see much point in hoarding it when it could be taken away just as easily as it was given – but then the children saw them coming and ran over.

Nie Huaisang in the lead, shouting, “Da-ge! Da-ge! You won!”

“Of course he won,” Wen Chao snapped at him, but in a good-natured, excited sort of way. “Who else did you think was going to win?”

“We all bet on you,” Wen Qing told him.

“Oh, come now,” he protested. “Someone should have bet on Wen Xu!”

“I would have told them off if they had,” Wen Xu said. “Well done. How much did we win?”

“We? Wen Xu! You can’t bet on your own matches!”

“Oh no,” Wen Xu said drolly. “Is that so? My mistake. I must have missed that.”

“Can’t you at least try to make it sound convincing…?”

Wen Ruohan was pleased with the results of the discussion conference. He made them stand up and recite their accomplishments at dinner, nodding as they did, and when he was done treating them like dancing monkeys, he told Wen Xu, “Next time, you come in first,” and swept out without another word.

“What a shitheel,” Nie Mingjue said, a little blankly. To not even give a single word of praise…!

“He can hear you,” Wen Chao hissed, horrified, glancing at the door.

“He was talking about someone else,” Nie Huaisang said quickly. “That person back at the conference – you remember?”

“Of course, of course, yes, I remember,” Wen Qing said. “That person. He was definitely a shitheel.”

Nie Mingjue felt the warmth of their affection, and it only made Wen Ruohan’s negligence rub his heart the wrong way even more.

“You all did wonderfully,” he told them, since someone should. “And I have no doubt that you will do even better at the next conference. You should be proud of yourselves. I’m certainly proud of you.”

He remembered that much, at least, when he woke up two days later, the magnitude of the beating he’d received for his impertinence having apparently knocked the rest of the day cleanly out of his head. There was some more afterwards that he’d said, apparently, but he remembered the important point, and he didn’t want to press any further; the others looked so miserable already.

“Maybe this’ll teach you a lesson,” Wen Xu said, and flinched when Wen Chao kicked him in the shins and ran away sobbing. “I didn’t - I just meant…”

“No, no, I understand,” Nie Mingjue said. The advice had been meant kindly, even if it was phrased badly.

Wen Qing huffed. “I bet you don’t,” she said, rubbing her nose, her own eyes suspiciously red. “What is it exactly you think you’ve learned?”

“Wait until he’s out of earshot to call him a –”

“I am going to smother you with your own robes,” Nie Huaisang announced. “Or at least gag you for your own good. Who’s with me?”

Nie Mingjue raised his one hand that still worked in surrender at the array of murderous glares in front of him. “Don’t attack me, I’m injured?”

No one seemed very impressed with that argument.

“You can’t do that again,” Wen Ning said quietly. His fingers were tight on the blanket. “Okay? You need to be more careful.”

“I don’t know if I can be,” Nie Mingjue said honestly. He was born with a mind as straightforward as the clean slice of a saber – what he felt, he thought; what he thought, he said. He was trying to learn politics and diplomacy, but it was hard on him, difficult. He was not and would not ever be a subtle man. “I’ll try, though.”

“Good,” Wen Xu said. “We need you to stick around.”

Nie Mingjue wasn’t sure why – he felt more and more extraneous these days, with no sect of his own to inherit and little purpose to life other than his determination that Nie Huaisang, and now the others, live as good a life as possible under Wen Ruohan’s endless tyranny – but he nodded agreeably.

They didn’t seem quite satisfied with that.

#mdzs #nie mingjue #nie huaisang #wen xu #wen chao #wen ning #wen qing #lan xichen #my fic #my fics #fire and light

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drxwsyni · 4 years

Text

Healing (pt.1/3)

Yandere Chisaki Kai/Overhaul x quirkless!f!Reader

Part 2︱Part 3

a/n: please do not read this piece if themes of poor mental health are upsetting to you. i am in no way attempting to romanticize these issues, having dealt with them in the past and knowing all too well how serious it is. i have never endorsed the harmful actions of people in my work and never will. please take care of yourselves and read at your own discretion. also this is a repost because it disappeared from the tags for some reason?

warnings: mental health problems, injury

4.2k words

_____

This is for your own good, he said.

The world is a disease ridden place, and remaining in it has left you broken.

You weren’t broken, you were fine. Sure, handling the pressures of simply existing as a result of being born without a quirk were tasking. People had not exactly been kind to you growing up, and that may have affected your health significantly. But you were handling it just fine.

While you couldn’t disagree with the fact that people did seem to enjoy using you, whatever had developed as a result of him discovering this reality wasn’t better in the slightest.

He said you needed time to heal, both physically and mentally. You could trust him, he was the only person who saw how faultless your existence was.

At some point you felt like you deserved to be mistreated by everyone around you, given how common of an occurrence it was. So when the yakuza leader came to you himself, going on about how unfairly you’d been handled all your life, it was hard not to trust him.

Now, you realize just how big of a mistake doing so was.

To be fair, he did live up to his promises. Kai said he wanted to help you heal, and what better way to do that than to move in with him. He had all the necessary equipment, and more than enough money to provide for you during your rehabilitation process.

However, he failed to mention the lengths he was willing to go to ensure your ‘good health’. Thinking you would stay with him until you got better, and then go back to living on your own once any pre existing issues had been taken care of slowly started to become an unattainable dream.

Upon arrival at the yakuza’s base, Kai instructed that it’d be in your best interest to not leave the premises. There was plenty of courtyard space for fresh air, and anything you needed would be picked up for you. Your room had been spacious enough, luxurious almost. Aside from the underground network of facilities, you were permitted to have free range of the base. The only condition was that you kept an escort with you at all times. Generally, these terms didn’t seem too bad.

It wasn’t until you sat down in his office to go through the rest of your new living plan that you realized just how committed he was to seeing your health improve.

Everything was planned to a T. When you’d wake up, take medication, bathe, eat, go to bed. He had taken into account any intolerances or allergies and developed a comprehensive meal program that catered to them. The most important element was the checkups scheduled twice a week to monitor your physical health.

While you didn’t enjoy the idea of being examined so regularly, you couldn’t argue that you’d neglected many problems over your lifetime. Sure, blood tests and vaccine administered supplements weren’t fun. But for the sake of rehabilitation you supposed that it was just another necessary evil.

What was concerning was his policy on electronic devices, specifically for recreational use. According to him, having a phone would only hinder the process, and therefore it wasn’t something you needed.

“Should you require anything you need only to ask either myself or a subordinate. Seeming as you should always have an escort there will be no issue with the matter of not being able to contact anyone.”

Kai truly had everything covered, and with how reassuring he was it became hard to see any flaws in the plan.

And so you took up residence in the leader’s base, grateful for the opportunity to live without being weighed down by society's corrupt expectations.

_____

The first few weeks went fairly smoothly, using the time to learn the layout of the establishment. Not that you could ever get lost, with one of his subordinates trailing you in case you required assistance. You quite enjoyed the company of Chisaki’s underlings, along with that of the man himself.

Every day you’d spend time in the courtyard, or go for a walk along the path against the inside edges of the base. Oftentimes Kurono would accompany you, and the two of you would make small talk over menial subjects. Later on you’d return to Kai’s office where you’d sit on the sofa positioned to the side of the room, reading a novel he’d selected while he worked at his desk.

Generally, your experience went fairly smoothly. The distance you’d put between yourself and the reality outside those tall concrete walls had done a lot of good. However, not everything can be solved with simply removing yourself entirely from a bad situation.

Although your living quarters were comfortable and welcoming, there was something unfamiliar about it that was off putting. To combat this, you decided a quick trip home to pick up a few belongings couldn’t hurt.

It’d only taken you roughly twenty-five minutes to travel back on foot to your small, cheap little single floor house on the edge of town. Another ten to gather some items, and then you walked back to the base. However, upon returning you’d come to understand how badly you’d messed up.

It was early in the morning before you’d left, and there were no examinations scheduled either. Not wanting to bother anyone with your needs, you had left the base alone without notifying Chisaki.

That was your first mistake.

He was waiting for you at the front entrance, arms crossed with an aggravated look on his face, although it was hard to read given the mask hiding a good half of his facial features. But if that didn’t give away his anger, then the death grip he placed on your forearm as he dragged you to your designated bedroom did.

He practically threw you inside the room, slamming the doors behind him. He only took a second to compose himself before speaking. “I thought I made it very clear that you were not to leave the premises, let alone by yourself.”

You knew Chisaki was quite the stern man, seeing first hand once or twice with how he treated his subordinates. But this was new, he’d never gotten mad at you, let alone get physically aggressive.

“I didn’t think it’d be a big deal, I was just grabbing some things to make my room a little more comfortable.”

“Did I not tell you that whatever you needed would be picked up for you?”

His demeanour suggested that the question was not rhetorical. “You did, I know. I just didn’t want to bother Kurono or anyone else to go with me so early.”

Something about your open concern for others seemed to pacify his rage, letting out a sigh before moving to sit on the short couch next to him. Leaning forward, elbows propped on his knees, Kai responded. “Staying inside the base is a crucial part to your healing, I can’t let you leave knowing the danger you’d be putting yourself in without protection. You should refrain from doing something so reckless moving forward.”

You moved from your standing position to sit down next to him, of course keeping a respectable distance knowing his abhorrence to bacteria, and generally people as well. “I’m sorry for making you worry, I was just a bit homesick is all.”

The yakuza turned his head to look at you, brows furrowed in a somewhat inquisitive manner. His amber eyes pierced through yours, seemingly searching for answers to questions that couldn’t be asked. “I hope you’re aware of how important someone like yourself is to my cause. Those without quirks are growing increasingly rare, and it’s causing more issues than the world can keep up with.” He paused for a moment before continuing. “I believe it goes without saying that I’d be deeply upset if anything were to happen to you. Normally I couldn’t be bothered with such a thing… but you’re the exception.”

Chisaki stood up and walked toward the bedroom door before facing you again. “Take a bath and then return to my office with your book. Kurono will be waiting outside your door to escort you.”

You watched him leave the room, waiting for the door to completely shut before letting out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding all this time.

Whatever that was, you never wanted to encounter it again. Maybe, you thought, I’d be better off getting out of here sooner rather than later.

_____

After the first incident occurred you presumed things would return to normal, but of course that would be too convenient. It seemed that there was now a slight increase in security around the base. The development was immediate, making it hard to miss. Any exits leading outside―those literally outside, say to the courtyard―and gates to exit the compound were guarded by one of Chisaki’s underlings.

On top of that, he had one of his men stationed outside your bedroom 24/7, whether you needed an escort or not. He never bothered to notify you of this change in particular. It only came to your attention after hearing the verbal exchange of two men outside your door, doing what you assumed was rotating shifts.

It was unnerving, to say the least. The incident had been minor as far as you perceived it, but the unspoken changes around you demonstrated otherwise.

Aside from that, you thankfully regarded the steady improvement to your health. Your energy had returned significantly, likely thanks to the mandatory eight hours of sleep. The daily walks had eliminated the general weakness and lack of stamina you experienced. Even your face took on a warm glow, eye-bags almost non existent and blemishes quickly fading.

It would seem that your departure from this temporary rehabilitation would come sooner than you expected.

Yet the more your condition improved, the stricter Kai became with your routine. Not only that, but he also seemed to be growing more comfortable having you near him.

Now, with any normal person this familiarness would only be expected. But you knew better, and a voice deep in the back of your mind was telling you that this new predicament wouldn’t end well.

_____

The next incident seemed to be the thing that set him off, solidifying your future.

It had been roughly a month and a half since you accepted being cared for at the yakuza’s compound. By now the problems which put you in this situation were almost entirely taken care of, but that didn’t stop Kai from enforcing his rules more than ever.

Frankly, the repetitive, unwavering routine you’d been following was starting to create its own problems within your health―you were going a bit stir crazy.

After the last warning, you’d be lying if you said the main thing keeping you from leaving was fear for how Chisaki would react. Now however, it’d been too long since you experienced the real world, and even if it was only for an hour, you desperately needed to go outside the walls of the compound.

You took the issue to Kai during the time you spent reading in his office. He was going to have to let you do this, staying cooped up any longer wouldn’t be good for you and even he couldn’t ignore that reality.

After what felt like an endless back and forth discussion, seemingly getting nowhere on either side, you started to believe that he really didn’t think the situation was an actual problem.

But you knew he had a soft spot for you, and eventually the man did cave to your request.

Accompanied by one of his more trusted subordinates, you were allowed to leave the base for two hours. You took this much appreciated freedom to do some window shopping here and there, at one point stopping to buy latte―of course not before fighting with your escort over how Kai would disapprove of you doing so, the caffeine apparently being bad for you.

You were nearing the end of your time limit, and still you remained unsatisfied with what felt like an all too brief reintroduction to society.

Pushing your luck, you headed to the center of the downtown area, hoping the bustling life and bright colours would be enough to satiate your need for external stimulation.

Before you had left the compound that day, Kai had stopped you for a moment at the front entrance. The statement was quick―he advised you to stay out of any heavy populated areas. According to him it posed too high of a risk to your safety, and you should heed his words if you knew what was good for you.

However, now that you were out and getting a taste of everything you didn’t even realize you were missing, those warnings were the last thing to concern you. Oh, how foolish you were to even believe there was nothing wrong with going against him for a second.

You heard the destruction before you felt it. The cause of it was unidentifiable, as before you could steal a glance from the source of exploding brick and concrete next to you, an unseen force sent you flying across the pavement and out onto the road. Thankfully traffic immediately came to a halt once onlookers realized the situation, effectively preventing you from being run over. But that did little to console you as painfully, you comprehended your now significantly injured state.

Giving your body a once over, it was clear that the force that threw you away from the building was from the blast of air pressure likely due to an explosion. The damages weren’t too severe, but you were still now sporting a throbbing headache, and what appeared to be a sprained ankle. Aside from that, only developing bruises remained as evidence of the violent event as far as you could tell in your shock induced state.

Understanding you had to get yourself away from the violent, still ongoing conflict, you feebly attempted to stand up. It was a good effort, and if it weren’t for the head injury that was proving to be much more serious, you most likely would’ve been able to get away.

But luck was never on your side to begin with, and only a few seconds went by before black spots appeared in front of your vision. A moment later and you were out cold.

_____

A hospital room was what you expected, what anyone would expect after being nearly blown to pieces.

Pulling yourself out of unconsciousness to assess exactly where you were was a trying task, but the fear growing in the pit of your stomach served as more than enough motivation.

You remembered being downtown. An explosion. Pain. Then darkness. Taking in your surroundings, you identified the room to be that which you sat through examination after examination in the yakuza’s base.

But Kai was nowhere to be seen, and that only made the feeling of distress worse.

You had no idea how you got there, figuring the likely outcome would be you in the care of an actual doctor. Except that wasn’t the case, and instead you were laying on a bed, wearing clothing that you did not have on before blacking out.

It appeared to be a fairly loose but comfortable sleeveless knee length dress, with a long sleeve sweater overtop of it, both shaded with a pale light blue. In the midst of examining your new outfit, your eyes laid upon a heart monitoring device lightly clipped to your index finger.

Amidst the sudden realization of your current predicament, you failed to notice the steady increase in your heartbeat. But Kai hadn’t.

At that moment one of the two doors of the room, the other attached to a bathroom, swiftly opened. Chisaki stood in the doorway for a moment, seemingly evaluating your now awakened form for a moment before entering, closing the door behind him.

You questioned him before he even had the chance to come near you. “What the hell am I doing here? Why aren’t I in a hospital?” He approached you as you spoke, taking a seat on a wheeled stool next to your bed.

Unfortunately you couldn’t control the shaking in your voice, and it served as a clear indication to the man at just how uneasy you’d grown with the situation.

“My subordinate alerted me of the attack after he found you unconscious. You were brought back here amidst the fighting so I could tend to your injuries, which fortunately are not life threatening.” He spoke in a calm and consistent tone, pausing momentarily before continuing. “There was no need to bring you to a hospital when I’m more than capable of taking care of you.”

Not life threatening? You looked over your body, assessing the damage for yourself. It appeared that you had injured your ankle, as it was now wrapped in some form of brace. Along with that were bandages woven around your knees, and more that you could feel constricting your upper arms where you landed on. Lastly was the dull pain in the back of your head, bringing you back to the moments before blacking out when you experienced a similar sensation.

“I think I should still go see a professional, no offense of course. It’s just I’d feel more comfortable with an expert opinion on the whole thing.” You truly didn’t want to set him off, not after what happened the last time you went against his advice. However, this was not something you could just take lying down, despite the fact that you were literally lying down in bed at the moment.

“I’m going to have to insist that you remain here, it’s the best option for your recovery which may I remind you has not been completed as of yet, and will only be delayed due to this. Not to mention that in your state excessive movement to bring you to a hospital would not only be quite difficult to manage but further damaging to your body as well.”

If it weren’t for the unsettling, stone cold stare he was giving you as he spoke, you would’ve likely retorted with a defense. Yet under that gaze you felt it was impossible to remain strong willed. You’d let him have his way for now, there being only so much time remaining in which his care was necessary.

With that you agreed to his concerns, and perhaps if he wasn’t wearing that obnoxiously large mask you would’ve seen the smirk of satisfaction appear across his face.

_____

Later that day Kai returned with your dinner, a task he normally left for his subordinates to complete. He set down the tray atop the sliding overbed table, a clipboard in his other hand. Sitting down on the rolling stool next to your bed, he began talking, you listening in silence as you ate.

“I hope you don’t mind but I took a blood sample while you were asleep in case your injuries were more severe than outwardly observable.” He flipped through a few pages on the clipboard before continuing. “It would seem that the supplements are steadily improving your overall condition. It’ll still take some time for certain levels to reach a normal amount for someone of your physique, but this is still good news nonetheless.”

You hummed in response, not wanting to be rude by talking with your mouth full. Chisaki moved to place the clipboard on the counter to your left before facing you again.

“I’m sure by now you’ve taken note of the change in your attire from that prior to being injured.”

You stopped chewing, looking worriedly in his direction. You hadn’t forgotten about this reality, it was more like you chose to ignore it for the time being, hoping nothing would come of it between the two of you.

“You should know that I had one of my female underlings do this for me, the fact of the matter being your clothing was partially destroyed from the explosion and was therefore prohibiting necessary medical attention.”

The pulsing of your heartbeat quickened, having an idea of where this conversation was headed, much to your apprehension. You stared down at the meal in front of you to avoid eye contact at all costs.

“I was able to properly tend to your wounds, but I’m sure you understand when I say that I couldn’t help but notice certain… remnants. Those of past trauma, along with others I didn’t directly observe, those that my subordinate notified me of.”

It was obvious that to access the bruises and cuts sustained from being thrown across the pavement, Chisaki would inevitably see parts of your body that you were all too familiar with just a few years ago.

Things had gotten better since then, they really had. You would never even think about using those same coping methods anymore. But that didn’t change the fact that those memories weren’t something that could just fade overnight, nor would the physical damage they left behind.

It was the last thing you wanted to discuss with Kai right now. He already knew, albeit vaguely, that you used to struggle with your mental health. Not that you weren’t still struggling, it was just now you had healthier ways of handling it. The only thing you could do now was deter him from pressing you further on the matter.

“Listen Kai, I know what you’re referring to, and I understand why you’d be concerned. It’s just… you don’t need to bother with it. I’m better now, at least in that regard. I get that you want to help me, and you have, but this isn’t something you need to worry about. I’ve already taken care of it, I promise.”

Glancing up at him after finishing, you saw more emotion than you’d ever thought someone like himself would be capable of. Although to most it would be insignificant, his intense stare coupled with the furrowed eyebrows, looking as if he truly wanted to comfort you in that moment was reassuring.

He exhaled loudly before responding. “That’s fine, (y/n).” You watched as he removed those white gloves that he seemed to wear like a second skin, placing them on the counter. “I just wanted to tell you that I’m sorry I wasn’t able to help you during that time. Someone like you should have never been subjected to such treatment, and if I had known you back then I would’ve made sure such an occurrence never took place to begin with.”

Now this was… jarringly out of character.

If there was ever a red flag that you missed before, the ensuing events would surely be enough to make it blatantly obvious what exactly was going on.

Wide-eyed and dinner long forgotten, you followed the movement of his hands as they went to gently hold that of your left.

The yakuza waited for what felt like an eternity before carrying on, doing what you could only assume was anticipating the disgust of coming into contact in such a way with you, absent of his constant protective articles.

But the aversion never came.

“All I can do now is ensure you’re never dealt the same treatment again.”

Another moment of silence, stillness.

He gave your hand a small squeeze before releasing his hold, standing up and retrieving his gloves. You were too dumbfounded by the events that just unfolded to respond, so you continued to sit in silence while Kai gathered his belongings.

“Finish your dinner, Kurono will come later and turn off the heart monitor for you to get ready for bed.” He finished pulling on the gloves, picking up the clipboard once he was done and headed towards the only exit of the room.

“You’ll be remaining in this room while your injuries heal. I’ll keep one of my men posted outside if you need anything.” Kai placed a hand on the doorknob, pausing before looking back in your direction.

“Also, you should know that an alarm will go off if you remove the heart monitoring clip on your finger. There’s a button on the side of the bed you can press if you need assistance turning the machine off, say if you need to get up. Otherwise please leave it as it is.”

At that moment he left the examination room, the door closing with a heavy metallic thud that reverberated off the walls.

The feeling in the pit of your stomach was subtle, almost overshadowed by the persisting hunger from abandoning your dinner. But you knew it well to be fear.

A fear that you only suspected would grow the longer you remained in the confines of Chisaki’s compound, the confines of his so-called ‘care.’

(End of Part 1)

#yandere mha #yandere bnha #yandere overhaul #yandere bnha x reader #yandere overhaul x reader #yandere mha x reader #yandere chisaki kai #yandere chisaki kai x reader #tw self harm

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 4 years

Text

Humans are Space Orcs, “You Survive We Thrive

Things are heating up with Krill’s mini plot line. Sorry I posted a little late today :) Hope you like it

“So, what do you think?”

….

“This is… disturbing, most disturbing.”

“That poor?”

The psychologist, a sturdy little vrul, steel grey in color, with red-tinted orange eyes looked up from where he was examining the projected data rolling in lines of minutely scripted characters through the air to vanish.

He had no issue with his divided attention, continuing to read the scrolling data as he spoke with the official, “That bad, I have never read a psychological evaluation this…. Strange….”

“Psychological degradation.”

The doctor shook his head, “That is what seems strange about it. There WAS no psychological degradation. His intelligence quotient remains high enough that the test cannot accurately represent it in numbers. He not only succeeded in all our tests, but often broke them from the inside going out. He shows extreme scores on logical thinking, and procedural memory, but the strange part is his creative problem solving has skyrocketed enough to break the test. There is no degradation, but his scores and IMPROVING. I even created a matrix for emotional intelligence, not a perfect test, but think accurate enough, and he scores extremely well on that.”

There was a pause between the two of them.

“Did you think to test him against the human? See if maybe the changes could be explained by that?”

The psychologist looked on miffed, almost insulted, “Of course I took that into account. That was one of the first things I did.” He switched the projected information, “The human’s scores are….. Well they are erratic at best and downright confusing at worst. Let me explain. You see this here, as far as intelligence goes, he's about as smart as the average beta, which gives him a little over average for humans. I mean you would hope that he is, but there is nothing special. His spatial intelligence is…. Well its excellent, far beyond excellent. And the same can be said about creative problem solving. Emotional intelligence is higher than the doctors both show the same in procedural memory, however a relating to semantic memory the doctor far outstrips the human. Numerical intelligence does not seem to be the human’s strong suit. In fact, I don’t think I have ever seen someone score that low before. I would say the same for episodic memory, accept worse. The human seems to think that he can remember things well, but it seems that he actually cannot.” “What does that have to do with anything.”

“Well you know how I said that the human’s intelligence scores put him at the low end of beta…..”

“Yes.”

“Well in aggregate, putting all his scores together, he would count as an alpha.”

The official stood back in surprise, “How? How can that be possible.”

“I am not entirely sure at this moment, but…. It is quite fascinating… I was thinking about going to talk to the human face to face, see if I can’t figure out this mystery.”

The official nervously shifted in place, “You should be careful, psychologist, you are starting to sound like the doctor did before he went off his rocker.”

“Has he gone off his rocker though?” The psychologist retorted.

“I mean yes, of course he has.”

“The tests say he hasn’t.”

The official harrumphed, “Well, aren't you also saying earlier that he had shown extreme increases on the aggression quotient as well as that for emotional response.”

“yes , but that hasn’t affected his other scores.”

The official sighed but then nodded, “Very well, but be careful, and don’t spend too much time with the human. He has proven to be dangerous, and may have an affect on you.”

“You worry far to much, it took the doctor months to be affected by him, and he had already showed signs of instability before that. I will be fine.”

***

“Dr…..Dr….. try to pay attention please.”

Krill lifted his head in annoyance pulling himself from a contemplation of all the stupid things the humans had probably been doing while he was gone, “I have answered all of your question. I have no idea why you would still be interested.

“We have plenty more questions.”

“No you have the same question but phrased slightly differently every time.” Krill sighed and glowered at the illuminated blue walls.

“Why are you so angry, doctor.”

He turned to look at them, “I am angry because I realize there are things about humans that I prefer over my own species sometimes.”

There was a pause.

“And what might that be?”

“Well, for one humans generally accept an answer after the tenth time I have given it. Not to mention that….. Well…. There are a lot of things.”

“Go on, we are listening.”

Krill sighed his shoulders sagging. He tried to control the human body language, but was finding it difficult, “OUr species has spent decades surviving, but isn’t the measure of a successful species one that can flourish. Our population has been stable for the past thousand years, and it has functioned the same way during that time. We don’t try to get better, we make it to, yeah that's ok and then we quit. Humans don’t just Survive, they TRIBE they are always trying to get better, to improve upon what they have. Where illness is a reason for death because we are no longer useful, they created technology to make life come to them. It has been less than a decade, and humans already live all across the galaxy. Their population has reached an all time eruption, and there is no reason it cannot get bigger. And here we are piddling along on our single planet, in upwards of ten cities doing the same thing we have done for generations.”

“The point of our species is survival.”

“We have proven to be good at that, why not go on from survival and into…… thriving.”

“The Universe is not meant for us. We are not as durable as others. Our planet is all we have.”

Krill shook his head growing more excitedly agitated, “that is where you are wrong, the bigger universe is out there for us. I have proven it. I have visited and stayed on death worlds for weeks at a time. Do you want to know the secret?”

The other Vrul looked a bit surprised, but intrigued. Looking on at Krill like he was insane.

“The secret is sociability. I survived because I had humans to help me. WIth their help I have been able to go anywhere and survive in any place. If we learn from them, we have a chance to live like they do.”

“And how is that?”

“Free.”

***

Commander Vir floated in near darkness a soft blue light illuminating him from all sides. He couldn't have said which was was up or which was was down. The only color he saw was blue, and aside from his own body there was nothing else, so he floated, rotating slowly his hands held out to his sides his legs relaxed and resting easily in the air. If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine the warm heaviness of a space suit, and his breath against the glass, a thin barrier between him and space.

Images of his first spacewalk ran through his mind with the fiery light of a star rising behind a strange alien world.

There was a sort of soft rumbling that broke him from his thoughts, and he spun in mid-air to find a vrul float into the room. It seemed as if he was upside down though…. Or well he couldn't have said which one of them was upside down considering space didn’t seem to have a right side up or upside down.

He struggled for a few seconds rotating to face the Vrul.

Despite being the captain of a spaceship, he didn’t actually spend much of his time in zero Gs, though that was a fact he would forever be salty about.

“Commander.” The Vrul acknowledged floating closer as Adam finally righted himself.

“I am afraid you have me at a bit of a disadvantage…. Who are you?”

The Vrul stopped his orange-red eyes glowing strangely in the blue light, “I am the psychologist.”

“Ah, let me guess, you wanted to see what about a human makes your species so vulnerable to change?”

“Precisely, smarter than your tests suggested.”

Adam frowned, “You know that seems to be a thing with you Vrul. Every time I meet a new one of you, I spend most of my time getting insulted, and yet there isn’t really much I can do, since you guys don’t say anything that isn’t true.”

“And the doctor does not?”

“Not anymore.”

“Why is that.”

Adam, in boredom, began rotating backwards feet thrown up into the air, watching the Vrul as he slowly spun in a circle, “Hmm…. I think…. I think the answer is because we socialized him.”

Spinning back around, the commander would have said that the Vrul seemed surprised. Generally those emotions were easier to read on Krill, but he supposed that was part of the reason why he said what he said.

“That is… an interesting theory, human.”

“Not really a theory. A theory implies that it cannot be tested. I would suggest it’s more a hypothesis.”

The vrul looked at him in a contemplative manner, “Go on, I am interested to hear what you have to say on the subject.”

Adam was a little surprised, “Vrul were kind of known for being stuck up pricks who thought they were smarter than everyone else, but he supposed that this might just help krill out of his current predicament.”

“Well you have talked about the doctor changing a lot, and I have this theory that every one of those changes have to do with his adaptability living in a pack.” The Vrul waited for him to continue, so he did, “You say something about how Krill is more emotional now, right? Well, emotions are adaptable to humans. Aggression allows people to keep their place in the hierarchy. We have trouble listening to krill like we should, so he gets mad at us, as a way to show us he SHOULD be respected. You might have discussed his use of human facial expressions or body language, well, body language is EXTREMELY important to properly communicating with a human, if he didn’t adopt those habits than he wouldn’t be able to communicate with us effectively. You guys talk about how he moves wrong, well that's part to do with body language and part to do with how quickly humans move. He can’t keep up with us if he floats.”

The psychologist looked Adam over with a critical eye, “Have you been thinking about this?”

Adam shrugged, “Not really, it just makes sense. And I argue that it PROVES that your species is more adaptive than you originally thought. Krill isn’t broken, he has…. Well micro-evolved. I guess.”

The psychologist looked on with interest, “And…. what do you care about him.”

Adam snorted, “Look. Once you make friends with a human, or a group of humans your as good as family, sometimes better than. We have a saying on earth, the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb. It means that the people you choose can sometimes be more important than the people you didn’t. Well we adopted Krill into our pack, he's as good as family to me, and I will do ANYTHING to keep him safe.”

WIth a slight shift of his body, the Vrul floated back.

Adam floated forward, “And when I say ANYTHING, I mean it.”

“But he's not even your species.”

Adam shook his head, “Doesn't matter, the human bonding instinct is so powerful that we routinely bond with inanimate objects. I bought a cactus (a plant) during my time in the airforce academy. I named him melvin, he’s still alive and lives at my parents house. We are great friends. I know a guy who won a stuffed pig at a carnival, and now it goes with him everywhere. My sister always buys the most mangled shaped food because it makes her sad to think that no one will buy it….. She's sad…. For vegetables.”

The Vrul had floated back even further.

“So when I say that we can bond with inanimate objects, imagine how we feel about Krill. Not only my good friend, but our doctor and our surgeon. He saved my life on multiple occasions which also means I owe him a debt of honor like the Drev see honor. I can’t let him go until I repay him, and even then I don’t plan on it.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“I am saying that I WILL get y friend back, no matter what I have to do.”

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argylemnwrites · 4 years

Text

Enough

Pairing: Sienna Trinh, Elijah Greene, Jackie Varma, and Aurora Emery (friendship); Bryce Lahela x MC (Cassie Vanderfield) - only referenced

Book: Open Heart (book 2, chapter 15)

Word Count: ~1300

Rating: PG-13 (discussion of the Bryce x MC hookup scene)

Summary: Sienna is a patient, understanding woman - or at least she tries to be. But everyone has their limits.

Author’s Note: So, what are the odds that Sienna is written to have any recollection of the fact that she literally walked in on Bryce and my MC going at it? I’m placing my bets on “none” since none of the characters seem to have any reaction to MC having a relationship with anyone other than Ramsey. Hence, this little friendship ficlet where the roomies do get to react. Written for Day 9 of the Choices October Challenge - alcohol.

Sienna let out one last shudder as she exited the elevator. She had not needed to see… that. Not at all. All she had been trying to do was go to bed. After all, she was in the ICU and was doing 24s every four days this block. Everyone else was on way fluffier rotations. But there was no way she was going to be able to go to sleep right now, not after walking in on them.

“Hey, I thought you were going to go crash,” Aurora called out as she caught sight of Sienna making her way over to the table off to the side of the lounge bar at their hotel where she sat with Elijah and Jackie. After heading back from the MGM, those three had decided to have another round or two before heading back to the suite. Jackie was clearly in a “drink so I don’t have to think about what I just did” mood, and Elijah and Aurora had been willing to join her so she wasn’t drinking alone.

Sienna shook her head and sat down next to Jackie. “I need a drink.”

“Alright, Trinh is joining us in keeping the party going!” Jackie called out, her words slightly slurred and definitely louder than usual. “What are you having?”

“Anything to make me forget what I just saw. Anything.”

Jackie didn’t seem to process what she said, twisting around in her chair and trying to wave down a waiter, but Elijah and Aurora both frowned at her statement.

“Sienna, what happened? What did you see?” Elijah asked.

She shook her head, almost hoping she could jar the sight of them from her memory. “What do you think?”

It took them both a second, but at nearly the same time, their eyes widened in understanding. Aurora let out a little sigh as Elijah slid his drink over to her.

“Here, you need this more than I do.”

She grabbed the glass readily and took a large swig, regretting that almost instantly as her eyes began to water and she coughed several times.

“Holy crap, Elijah. That’s so strong!”

He gave an embarrassed sort of shrug. “Yeah… I thought I would channel the whole Vegas-heist-spy vibe fully and go for a martini, but… yeah, it’s kind of a lot stronger than I thought it would be.”

Sienna let out a sigh, then picked up the glass again and downed the rest of the way-too-strong vodka martini.

“That horrible, huh?” asked Aurora when she set the glass back down.

“They were… in the middle of the act.”

“Ouch,” said Elijah, grimacing and shaking his head.

“Do they really think that they are subtle?”

“I’m pretty sure they’re convinced no one knows. Well, except me now. Obviously.”

“Who are we talking about?” asked Jackie, spinning back around to face the table.

“Bryce and Cassie,” said Elijah.

“Why? That’s old news.” Jackie waved her hand dismissively, twisting back around briefly again, but rapidly abandoning her second search for a waiter.

“Sienna just walked in on them…” Aurora trailed off, tilting her head meaningfully.

Given her drunken state, it took Jackie a couple of seconds to process the information, but soon she threw her head back and burst out laughing. “Mid fuck or just naked?”

Sienna shook her head. “They were definitely not finished,” she said, which caused Jackie to laugh harder. “And it’s not funny! I did not want to see… all of that.”

“Oh, but now we can tease them forever!” Jackie said.

“I don’t want to tease them; I just want to erase that image from my retinas!”

“Yeah, I’m with Sienna here,” said Elijah. “You don’t share a bedroom wall with her, but I can tell you from experience, it’s bad enough just hearing them. I can’t imagine having to actually see them… in action.” He grimaced as he finished his thought.

“I don’t see why they are trying to keep this a secret,” added Aurora, taking a sip from her glass of white wine. “I feel like half the hospital knew they were together when I transferred, and I’m guessing they haven’t suddenly become more discreet.”

Sienna shook her head vigorously as Elijah did the same. “No, if anything, they’ve gotten worse.”

“It’s ridiculous!” Sienna called out, slamming her hand down on the table with a little more force than she intended. Maybe downing a martini on top of all the champagne she had earlier was a bad idea, but it was too late to undo that now. Instead, it was probably better just to embrace the buzz. “I’m so tired of having to pretend like they’re just friends! It’s stupid!”

“What else can we do? If they don’t want to tell us, it’s not really our business,” said Aurora with a little shrug.

“It’s my business when I literally saw them… doing that!”

“Having sex, Sienna. You can say ‘sex,’” Jackie said, draining the last of her drink.

“I’ve had enough of this! I’m done acting like they aren’t together!”

“So what are you going to do, Sienna?”

Sienna bit her lip as she thought about Aurora’s question. As much as she wanted to just ask Bryce and Cassie point blank what their deal was, she knew that wouldn’t really help the situation at all. They were only going to be open about being together when they were good and ready. It was still really annoying, though.

She let out a sigh. “Nothing. I’m going to do nothing.”

Elijah reached over and patted her hand gently. “Do you want to share a room tonight? We can leave them the bed they… already used.”

She hadn’t thought about the sleeping arrangements. The rooms were supposed to be Jackie and Aurora in the master, Sienna and Cassie on the other king bed, and Bryce and Elijah in the room with the two queens, but Sienna had little interest in getting into her assigned bed at this point. She nodded aggressively, grateful for Elijah’s offer. “Absolutely. I am not climbing into that bed. No way.”

“Of course. Bryce has the grey suitcase, so you can just move it out and switch it with your stuff when you want to crash.”

Sienna shook her head. “I’m not chancing going back up there anytime soon.”

“So, does that mean you are gonna close out the bar with us?” Jackie asked, a grin sliding across her face.

Sienna gave her a little smile. She was probably going to be hung over tomorrow anyway, so what would a few more drinks hurt? “Sure, why not?”

“Yes! I’ll go get the next round!” Jackie climbed out of her chair with significantly less grace than usual, but she wasn’t swaying too badly as she crossed the room.

“How’s she doing?” Sienna asked, watching her lean over the bar and pass her credit card to a bartender.

Aurora shrugged. “She’s obviously drinking a lot, but I don’t think it’s to a level that we need to worry about.”

“Plus, now that you are also drinking to forget something that happened tonight, I think she won’t feel so alone,” Elijah quipped. A few minutes later, Jackie wandered back to the table, the bartender at her side with a tray of drinks.

“Who’s got the Long Island Iced Tea?” he asked, glancing around the table.

“That’s for her,” said Jackie, pointing straight at Sienna. “She needs to forget what happened tonight.”

Sienna just smiled and thanked the bartender. Deep down, she knew there wasn’t enough alcohol in all of Las Vegas to erase that vision from her memory, but sharing some drinks and some laughs with some of her closest friends might be helpful just the same.

Permatag: @walkerswhiskeygirl @riley--walker @bebepac @oofchoices @octobereighth @drakewalker04 @kimmiedoo5 @mfackenthal @thequeenofcronuts

OH: @rookie-ramsey @omgjasminesimone @ao719 @lovella-lah

Event: @choicesoctoberchallenge2020 @lucy-268

#bryce x mc #sienna trinh #elijah greene #jackie varma #aurora emery #oph fic #open heart #choices fanfiction

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dragonswithjetpacks · 3 years

Text

Theurgist

Chapter Two: The Voice of Survival

-dragonswithjetpacks

Summary: When she's gone, there is no control. Thoughts of the book disappear. The voice in her head is silenced. The tadpole forgotten as it sits dormant. As long as she's lost in him, she wouldn't need to think. And for that moment, she can be free. Take out the truth of it all, despite it being based on sheer curiosity. Throw it away. She needed to hear the lies. Needed to hear whatever she wanted so she could completely submerse herself into the false feeling. To be intertwined with him feeding her a reality that would never exist in where she can be herself again. To take away her fear of the bonds committing to yet another thing...

Notes: I don’t really like posting chapter by chapter summaries. But here’s chapter two!

Read here on Ao3.

Everything felt... hot...

The air was corrupted with smoke...

Sounds were muffled over the loud ringing, protruding her ears...

Get up. Now. Hurry.

But the voice was clear. Ferelith stirred as her thoughts were wakened. She lifted on her hands, her arms sore and surely bruised. Her back ached. Her head throbbed. But as everything suddenly became clear around her, she wondered if she was waking into a nightmare. The floors burned, their smoke billowing out a torn wall to the side. She could barely see the red mountains flying by.

"Where am I?" her heart began to race.

Calm down.

She ran over to the gaping hole, leaping over the fire and careful with where she placed her hands. Ferelith leaned out but only found her waking nightmare was worse. Much worse. The Hells swarmed with demons around the vessel. She could not make out the ship itself, but could see far enough to know it was big. And it was heavily damaged. They were going to crash.

We have to move.

Ferelith turned, seeing the large cauldron in which the tadpole had been pulled from. It didn't seem real but when she concentrated, she could feel it inside her. Something was wrong. But the voice in her head had nothing to say about it. It only begged her to press on. She heeded it, checking the room for anything useful before finding a way to leave the room. The walls looked as if they were made of flesh. Hardened flesh, but still flesh in texture nonetheless.

There.

Her mind pulled her to an awkward looking fold in the wall. And as she approached, it opened. Ferelith hadn't the slightest idea of where to go. Or what to do. But only knew she needed to move forward. If she could get to the deck of the ship, she could find a way to get out. She entered the next room and came to a halt. Dead imps littered the floor of what appeared to be an illithid study. There was what she assumed to be desks and chairs. Brains of... research? No... she peered closer... it was arranged in an artistic way, as if it were a display.

"Disgusting..." she wrinkled her nose.

She tapped the glass but the fleshy things inside did not move. A sudden urge to push it over overcame her but she settled for the thought of it bursting when the ship exploded on the way down. Which reminded her...

"Do you know where we are?"

Hell.

"Of course," she sighed, looking the study over once more for something useful.

She found a knife.

"Do you know how to get back?"

Not my realm.

"Not your problem, then. I suppose you'll go with the book. Assuming it survives."

You'll survive.

"How encouraging," her eyes fell to a cloth heap atop one of the desks.

She patted her body, noting her apron and cloak had been removed. She panicked, reaching into a pocket behind her vest. The feeling of old leather touching her fingertips brought her comfort. The book was still there. Good. Ferelith marched over the table, grabbing the cloth to ensure it was her apron. It felt heavy and she began to frantically search the pockets. Four books. All of them were small. There was a pack nearby that she quickly pulled to her side. Opening it quickly, she shook out it’s contents. Hardly anything useful, just as her luck had always determined. She looked around the room, rummaging through other notes and packs, shoving what she could into her new bag. The books she wrapped carefully into her apron. The one on her persons, however, remained in her vest pocket.

"Alright," she attempted to charge the energy into her hands. "Let's go."

The red light flickered at her tips for a moment. And when she felt what was compared to a dull heat in the depths of her thoughts, the sparks burst into flame. Not only was she eager to fight her way through the ship... her patron was thirsty as well.

**********************************************************************

Looking down, she could see her hands moving quickly across the table, gathering notes as she shoved them into a black bag. They were her hands. But she could not control them. They were already moving on their own. And yet, she was the one moving them... though it was long ago. The footsteps echoed down the hall and she knew there was little time. Something pushed her, but she wanted to stay. The thoughts were too loud, but his were always louder. It made her drop the bag. It made her crawl through the window. And it made her climb down, causing her to eventually fall to break her arm on impact. The pain shot through to her shoulder, but it reminded her that her legs were perfectly fine. She ran. It was all she could do as it cursed her for insolence.

He buried himself into the darkness and she could see the branches on his back shift as he hunched into the corner of her mind. Ferelith called to him, but he did not answer. It was just as before. Only this time, it was not her fault. And she pleaded for him to come back into the light. He did not move. It was as if he could not even hear her. There was a block in their path. He sunk lower, clutching his knees as his head bowed the ground. His shadow was cast against her. And in the light... she stood alone...

“Fian!”

The sand around her shifted as she shot up, her eyes frantically searching for a being that could not possibly exist in this realm on the beach. Her breathing steadied as she realized she was at the very least alive. The images she had seen were not the premonition of her death. And perhaps her patron was safe after all. Searching for him was difficult, however. Her head ached each time she tried to call upon him. The only thing she felt was the uneasy squirming of something beneath her eye. The worm. With a slow and steady hand, she rotated to witness the absolute devastation. The nautiloid was burning before her.

“No,” she frantically looked about her for any sign of civilization.

Given her limited sight through the smoke, there was none. Only a vast line of trees, a moving body of water, and a cliff surrounded by sand. Her mind began to throw itself into a state of panic. And there was nothing to ease her from it. The silent chatter had already begun.

“I have to do this on my own,” she clutched her chest, feeling the convulsions start. “Think, Ferelith. Remember. What is the last thing you remember?”

She shut her eyes tightly, using whatever she had to trigger her memories. Thankfully, it gave her what she wanted. The whispers stopped. And she remember the ship. A green woman; a githyanki. Imps. Illithid. Dragons.. A portal. Her eyes burst open.

“A portal!” she shouted, getting onto her feet.

Her mind traced the setting just before she fell. The ship had crashed outside of Baldur’s Gate, she was sure. But she was uncertain of where. It did not matter. What she needed now was to get moving. The longer she sat, the weaker she became. Once she found a place to camp, some supplies, and a bit to eat, her head would clear. And her patron, with any luck, would return after some meditating. Feeling the large gash on the side of her head, she guessed that it was the impact that sent him away. Unless… no. He wouldn’t have given his space to the tadpole so easily.

She rose to her feet, dusting the sand off and taking another to absorb her surroundings. Her pack was nearby in brush and she waded through the sand to reach it. Slinging it over her shoulder, she glanced down the shoreline. A litter of dead bodies were scattered along the beach. With a heavy sigh, she approached one, digging through his pockets and taking what was salvageable. As she approached the dock, she noticed the men had been fishing when the crash happened. Which meant there was a village somewhere nearby… unless the ship landed on it.

“Sorry about your luck,” she whispered to one, reading over a love letter she found in his breast pocket.

Ferelith gently tossed the unfolded note back onto the body. Again, she needed to think. Loudly. She needed to be aware of her own thoughts. The more she remained in control, the more he would know she was still aware. She needed to think about surviving. There were at least two others she saw in a right state of mind when the ship crashed. If they survived as she had, there was a good chance they would be able to band together. It would certainly give her the defense she needed for the time being. She could see feel power within her, but she was afraid it wouldn’t be enough to fight for long. The sparks she summoned to her finger tips were dull. And the only weapon she had was the dagger she found on the ship. It would have to do.

There were more bodies that trailed down and the beach. And there was no shame to Ferelith as she searched them as well for what she needed; a potion or two, a few coins, a keepsake locket that might be worth coin. She threw everything into her bag in a hurry. The faster she got away from the ship, the better. She was starting to see corpses of the inhabitants within it and knew they would be patrolling close by. Just as she looked up the cliff side for a way up, she began to hear a series of loud banging. Followed by angry shouting. And as she rounded the cliff, she saw a woman, a single dark braid down her back. A survivor.

“Why won’t you open?” she aggressively shouted, smashing her mace into the door. “Blasted door! I-”

The woman turned before Ferelith could say anything on approach.

“Stop!” she cast a hand out as a warning, her face scouring in frustration. “Not another step or I’ll…”

Her eyes scanned over Ferelith, her hand lowering the moment she realized they recognized one another.

“Wait… you. You’re the one who tried to free me, on the ship,” the woman seemed pleased with this, almost excited that they were finally meeting outside the nautiloid. “At least you made the effort.”

Ferelith began to speak, but was cut short when a strange feeling entered her mind. A cold feeling, like a wave was caressing her brain. In the center of it was the worm, wiggling and thrashing. She felt it as well as something else. Emotions that did not belong to her. But were still somehow a part of her. She felt confusion, resolve, and gratitude. Looking up, she saw the woman clutching her head. Their eyes locked in bewilderment. Ferelith wondered what she felt. What sort of feelings her thoughts had sent. It stopped, and they both groaned in pain.

“Did you feel that?” she asked, her face transforming back into anger. “You’ve got the same thing I do. In your head.”

“Yes,” Ferelith nodded. “It’s some sort of mind swap. I felt it once before on the ship. And you can feel it, too?”

“The same,” she replied. “It must be that tadpole they put in our eyes. I assume that’s was caused our minds to… cross.”

“We have telepathic capabilities just from the worms,” Ferelith thought aloud. “It’s fascinating. Similar to the way the illitihid communicate.”

“These things are going to consume us from the inside and turn us into mind flayers,” the woman was clearly taken aback by the curiosity in Ferelith’s voice.

“Yes, I’m aware,” she sighed heavily. “It’s just strange I saw so many on the ship that had completely lost their sanity. Yet here we are. Sharing… feelings. Not exactly helpful if it’s against my will, though. I think we need to figure out our next course of action.”

“You and I need a healer. Finding one won’t be easy in this wilderness. We’ll need supplies.”

“I’ve already looted what I can from the beach,” Ferelith adjusted the strap on her back. “It’s not much, though.”

“I’m hoping something of use might be behind this door… But I’ve barely made a dent in it so far.”

Examining it and the structure around it, she gathered there could very well be something behind it. Looking up, the stone walls climbed up the bluff. There was more to the structure beyond it.

“I doubt this is the only entrance,” Ferelith pointed up. “There’s likely another way around.”

The woman looked up to where she had gestured. “Up the cliff? Yes, I suppose you’re right. I should go before more of these creatures show up.”

“Well it looks like you’ve gotten this far,” Ferelith looked down at the brains and blood splattered among the sand. “But if you don’t mind grouping up, I could offer you a hand.”

“Or just company in our final moments,” she smiled. “But you’re right. Whatever lies ahead will be a little less daunting with support. You can call me Shadowheart.”

“Ferelith,” she gave a slight bow. “Perhaps we’ll find others as well.”

“All I’ve seen are these monsters. You’re the friendliest face I’ve seen so far,” she shook her head. “But you might be right. We should get moving.”

**************************************************************

Ferelith wiped the blood off her knife, irritated with it being her only weapon for the time. Her patron was still silent. And though the other voices had not come crawling back, she knew eventually they would. The longer he remained the silent, the more danger she was putting herself in. Possibly others. And that was if the tadpole didn’t get to her first. As moved strangely inside her, she began to believe that it was the reason for his sudden change and not the crash at all. She looked to Shadowheart who was observing her.

"You fight well," she nodded with a smile. "Perhaps our survival isn't such a distant prospect."

Ferelith chuckled, sheathing her knife back into her belt. “I’ve been known to slay a beast or two.”

“Those spells you cast,” she motioned to her companion, looking at her hands. “Does that make you a wizard, then?”

“Warlock, actually,” Ferelith crossed her arms awaiting the usual response of disgust.

Though, there was no judgement from Shadowheart. It surprised her greatly considering she had recently discovered her companion was a cleric. In most cases, clerics tend to shun Ferelith. There was often name calling. Or even a gasp at her corruption. As much as she had tried to reassure that there was none, very few listened to her pleas. And she had grown accustomed that not everyone was a fan of a warlock.

“Interesting,” was all she said in response, her face clearly showing how unimpressed she was.

Ferelith was ready to speak, but paused when she heard a faint voice in the distance. She lifted a hand, her head turning in the direction of the shouting.

"Do you hear that?" she asked the cleric.

"What?"

"That shouting... I think someone needs help."

"We need help," Shadowheart crossed her arms.

"What if it's someone like us from the crash? Besides, we could use another hand or two."

The face of discontent lifted but she was still cross with the decision. Ferelith cared little and made her way toward the sound. As she grew closer, she could see the water just down the bank. And looking down into the brush was man. He appeared startled and beckoned her over.

"Quick," he motioned. "Over here!"

Ferelith's eyes narrowed in an attempt to examine him further. He was dressed in fine clothes. His hair was neatly combed. And his cowardly stance told her what she needed to know. The man was of a noble class.

"It’s one of those brain things. You can kill it? Can't you? Like you killed the others?" he asked frantically.

Wonderful. Ferelith looked over to the scowling woman next to her who had managed a rather humoring grin.

"You wanted to help," Shadowheart smirked.

"Yes. Yes I did," Ferelith took a deep sigh. "Step aside."

Walking a short ways down the bank, she looked about to see where the brain monster was hiding. But when she looked through the weeds, she saw nothing. There was a rustle. And then a dash of hooves as it sprinted by. It was a boar. Then there was what she could not mistake as the sound of metal gliding through leather as a knife became unsheathed. The man wasn't only a coward, but one who was willing to stab her in the back. She turned in time to see him clutching it, holding it out to her with a steady hand. Her brow lowered as she looked at it’s point. It was no threat to her and she crossed her arms as her anger began to grow. She had been attacked enough today.

"Come any closer with that dagger and we'll see where it goes.”

The man was surprised to see her so guarded and unamused. Though she saw a hint of his hesitance, he refused to back down.

"You can try. But first you'll tell me what you know. I saw you on the ship. You're in league with them, aren't you? Those tentacled-" he cried out pain.

The strange cold feeling from before entered her thoughts once again, curling around her memories and causing the worm inside to writhe with joy. As if looking from his eyes, she could see dark cobblestone streets filled with bustling people. Oddly enough, his eyes saw the very same streets. Only they were empty. And she was alone. The vision faded and they were left staring at one another in the brush.

The man pulled back gasping. "What was that? What's going on?"

He took a step back to steady himself, his knife still at the ready.

"Lower the dagger," she reached for the handle of her own, "and I'll tell you everything."

Her charisma had no affect on him and he curled his lip in defiance.

"I'm not an idiot,” he spat. “It has to be those tentacled monsters. Something they did..."

The angry lines on face softened, his guard dropping with it. Something about him changed entirely. The recognition of the streets they saw being that of Baldur’s Gate had set in. The very same street he was taken from. A memory of his own replayed in his head. He saw a woman with dark hair, hands bursting with red energy. He had felt his knees hard on the stone. And then... nothing...

"You..." he breathed.

Ferelith hadn't the slightest indication of what he had noticed, tilting her head slightly while she observed him. Her hand still lingered above the hilt of her dagger. The difference in his presentation had not change her mind just yet about his attack.

"They took you, too..." he almost sounded grateful. "I saw it during... whatever just happened. And to think I was ready to decorate the ground with your innards. Apologies."

"Accepted," she stated blankly, still leaving her hand above her hilt. "But threaten me like that again, and there might be an issue. Are we clear?”

"Indeed we are," he grinned, his voice dipping very low. "Please, allow me to introduce myself."

Despite their squabble, Ferelith became increasingly intrigued by the man. Only seconds ago, his face was twisted into something fierce with a sneering tongue. It gave her the impression of something feral. And now, it was completely different. He stood with a fine posture, large soft eyes awaiting her response politely in a way that would make most women blush. And she didn’t deny it, there was a small flutter in her chest- something she pushed down quickly.

"My name's Astarion. I was in Baldur's Gate when those beasts snatched me."

Her ears perked at the mention of the city. “I hail from Baldur’s Gate.”

"Is that so?" an interested brow went up and he was certain it was the same woman from that night. "We clearly move in different circles."

"Clearly," she flattened her lips in response. “You may call me Ferelith, then.”

"So... Ferelith. Do you know anything about these worms?"

"Unfortunately," she crossed her arms again with yet another sigh. "They'll turn us into mind flayers."

"Turn us into..."

Astarion's face dropped again. Though this time, it was different. It was pure disappointment bordering utter and complete sadness. He dropped his head, eyes scanning the ground as if answers would sprout up for him. There was a brief pause... and then suddenly laughter. An angry, disbelieving spout of laughter.

"Of course it will turn me into a monster," he snapped back to Ferelith. "What else did I expect?"

The tone dropped again. His eyes were wide. The sadness felt heavy. Ferelith didn't know why, but she felt sorry for him. There wasn't even a reason to. Her brow lowered and before she could talk herself out of it, she gave him gentle stare.

"But, it hasn't happened yet. If we can find an expert - someone that can control these things - there might still be time."

It was an interesting choice of words. Control. Still be time. And he appeared desperate. Ferelith didn't understand, but still felt compelled to take him with her. Even before he said we.

"It sounds like you'll be joining us, then? I suppose it would be easier to survive with all of us together."

"You know, I was ready to go this alone. But maybe sticking with the herd isn't such a bad idea. And you seem like a useful person to know."

Ferelith noticed his eyes shifting over her, unapologetic and judgmental. She was a useful person, perhaps. But capable was something she teetered on the brink of. Nothing about her appearance told him she was useful at all. She was still in the casual clothing she wore around the shop back home. Her bag was slung around her shoulder, a bit singed on the side. The only weapon she had was the knife at her side. A few trinkets she found on the ship had looked something like bombs, but she wasn’t sure. And if he was able to tell she was a spell caster at first glance, he was either smarter than she thought or very good guesser.

In truth, what Astarion had noticed was someone capable after all. A proud woman. A woman who seemed to stay in control. Someone who could get him out of the mess he was in. At least for the time being, anyway.

"All right, I accept," he said with a bow. "Lead on."

The narrowed eyes of the warlock lifted with a smirk. “I’m not going to hear the sound of that dagger behind my back again, am I?”

“Not unless you ask nicely,” he grinned.

Ferelith closed her eyes, letting go another exhale of breath. She could tell how the rest of her day was going to pan out. Her hands relaxed to her side and with a slow pivot, she made her way back up the bank. Astarion was behind her, admiring in a curious way but careful not to let his gaze linger for too long. When they reached the top, Shadowheart was awaiting their return.

“Well?” she tapped her foot impatiently.

“It was just a stupid boar,” Ferelith shrugged.

“Great... a waste of time, then. Let’s go.”

“I think we can agree on that,” Ferelith eyed Astarion.

“Yes well,” he ran a hand through his hair. “I have been a bit out of sorts since the crash.”

“You’re coming with us?” Shadowheart didn’t seem pleased, but not entirely annoyed as she had been. “Fine. It’ll better our chances. Come on. We’ll have to go through the wreckage to get around.”

“Charming,” Astarion grumbled, looking to Ferelith who simply shrugged.

She trailed after the cleric. And Astarion followed. Though Ferelith was not so eager to go back into the ship, she knew it was the only way. At least this time, there were more hands to guide her.

#astarion #astarion x mc #bg3 baldur's gate 3 #astarion fic #astarion x ferelith #ferelith #ferelith moonshade #ferelith writing tag

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bundleofyarrow · 3 years

Text

Bundle of Yarrow Chapter 7 is up!

Your adventure continues! Spending your last days in the Wild Area with Milo before you get to Motostoke. But so many feelings have gone unspoken. What will come out before you have to part ways? Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29087343/chapters/72689874 or below the cut! Comments and feedback always welcome <3

West Lake Axewell

The first thing you notice is how incredibly quiet it was. If you were next to a body of water in Alola, it was almost certainly the ocean, rolling in from the distance, rhythmically crashing against the shore. As you look to the gigantic lake, its stillness shook you. Underneath the overcast sky it was almost eerie, with the only movement being the occasional water Pokemon breaking the surface. Your body wanted to shiver, but it’s wasn’t really that cold, just grey and silent. The breeze seemed to rustle the tall grass more than wild Pokemon.

“Quite the sight, huh?” Milo was looking out at the lake also as the both of you approached it. “One of the few flat areas in Galar, you can see straight across.”

He was right, though you can’t really make out much given the fading light and how cloudy it is. But you do see the walls of a large city, making you pause a bit. You forgot that civilization existed for a while, what with all the dangers of the Wild Area. Who lets kids, much less anyone without experience, just waltz in here?

“Is that…?”

“Yep, that there’s Motostoke! The city gates are pretty much on the opposite side of the lake from us.”

So close, yet so far. You let out a little sigh.

“You alright? Leg botherin’ ya?” The concern in his voice creates a funny feeling in your stomach.

You put out your leg and rotate your foot in the air. “I think it’s fine, it hasn’t gotten worse at least. It’s more that I haven’t done camping and hiking like this in my entire life. So to get so much of it all at once has been quite the experience.” To put it lightly.

“Definitely havin’ an adventure, aren’t ya?” He offers a smile, because of course his first instinct is to lighten the mood. And it’s nice, you enjoy it.

“You can say that again!”

Milo scans the path in front of you. “I know we’ve been goin’ at it all day, but if we can cross that bridge over there,” He points out to a large wooden bridge that spans the skinniest part of the lake. “and then set up camp, Motostoke is reachable tomorrow.” Milo looks back to you, still concerned. “What do ya think?”

Nodding, you shift the bag on your back to sit more comfortably. “Sounds like a plan! Thanks so much for being my guide Milo, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

He looks away, pink tufts of hair blocking his expression from view. “Oh it’s nothin’…” He mumbles out, among other indiscernible words.

The both of you maintain idle chit-chat along the way, mainly you pointing at a Pokemon you don’t recognize and Milo telling you what he knows about it. You get the sense that Milo is a bit of an introvert, and that silence without the pressure to talk is something that comforts him. He fumbles over his words often, but you find that charming. He seems preoccupied with trying to say the right thing, and the right thing tends to come naturally, except when you catch him off-guard. It’s hard not to enjoy watching him get flustered over little things.

As you draw closer to the bridge, you notice that the amount of tall grass in the area is increasing. There’s a clear path forward, but you feel a bit uneasy. Like someone, or something, was watching you. Rustling in the tall grass picked up the further along you went, and you instinctively grasped Milo’s arm. You had been walking without his support for a while now, so Milo jumped a bit in surprise.

“Milo, something is stalking us in the tall grass.”

“H-huh?” When you look over, his head is turned in the opposite direction, like he was avoiding something.

“Wait, what’s the matter? Are you feeling okay?”

“I’m f-fine! Jus’ dandy!”

“Why won’t you look at me? Is something wrong?”

“It’s nothin’! Don’t-”

“PAN!”

A small figure dashed out of the tall grass and right in the path of you and Milo. You actually recognized this one, it was a Pancham. She began to execute a series of martial arts moves, not attacking either of you but clearly it was a show of force. The Pancham ended with a dramatic and aggressive pose, shooting her most intimidating glare at you.

“CHAM!”

Moments pass in silence until you can’t handle it anymore.

You begin to giggle. “It’s adorable.”

The Pancham is clearly shocked at your reaction.

Milo smiles and rubs the back of his neck. “She’s a cutie pie that’s for sure.”

Her head hangs in shame. It seems like the Pokemon really thought she really had the upper hand here.

You walk over and squat down in front of her. “Hey now, don’t be sad! Just because you’re adorable doesn’t mean you’re not also very cool and strong!”

“Pan…?” The Pokemon’s eyes looked up to you, glistening.

“You’re the most fearsome Fighting Pokemon I’ve met in Galar!” Granted, this is the first Fighting-type you’ve met since you arrived, but she didn’t need to know that.

Pancham’s paws went to her hips and she confidently posed with that leaf in her mouth. You slowly extended your hand, and as you didn’t feel like she meant any harm, pet her on the head. She couldn’t help but smile and nuzzle into your hand.

“Something tells me you’re in the mood to play, am I right?”

The Pokemon nods before turning to the side and shadowboxing some more.

“How about this: if you can guide us across this scary bridge,” You gesture to your next destination. “I’ll let you battle with my Pokemon while we set up camp. And I’m sure Milo’s would love to make some new friends too, right Milo?”

You look back to Milo, who is looking down to you with a smile. This smile felt different from his usual, though you couldn’t really pinpoint why.

“You betchya! I have a few achin’ to have some fun.”

“What do you say? Will you help us out? We could use a brave Pokemon like you.”

If the Pancham still had a bruised ego, that was yesterday and now is a brand new day. She turned around and marched towards the bridge, looking about for any dangers to quell.

You rose from your low position, but must have struck a weird angle doing so because your injured leg felt weak. Stumbling and giving out a quick yelp, you felt a sudden pair of hands on your torso.

“Easy there now.” Milo helped you stand. “Leg still actin’ up?”

His hands were both gentle and firm as they helped you balance, and you were definitely blushing feeling him so close.

“Th-thanks Milo.” The Butterfree inside you danced. “It’s not so bad. I’m sure some rest will do it good.”

Eventually he lets you go when it seemed you were stable, and guided you forward behind the Pancham with a light palm on your back. It impressed you how he acted this way so naturally. Not that you were a cold person who ignored others in peril. But it seemed his body just moved like a reflex whenever someone was in need.

“It’s amazing how well you handled that Pancham.” Milo said it more to himself that you, like he was musing about something. “If you don’t end up a trainer, I could see ya as a great Pokemon breeder.” You’ve never considered the possibility before. “We have a Daycare Center right by Turffield, you should visit it sometime!”

“Oh? Is Turffield where you’re from?”

“Born n’ raised!” He beams with pride. "I miss it each time I have to travel. Quite peaceful, and the folk are humble and kind. It may not be a big fancy city but, it's home.”

It isn't long until you all make it to the bridge. The Pancham makes an exaggerated scouting motion, as if trying to scope out any enemies. Satisfied with the safety of the bridge, she waves the two of you to follow her.

The bridge itself feels sturdy, which is a relief because it's quite long. You can see from here that Lake Axewell is full of powerful looking Pokemon, and you'd rather not meet any by falling in. Crossing the bridge went by rather uneventfully, mostly Milo sounding homesick through how he described Turffield to you, and Pancham turning back to look at you both, as if she really did feel responsible for ensuring your safety.

You realized this was the most Milo has talked without prompting since you both met, bubbling with enthusiasm when you asked him questions about his hometown. It’s almost like you finally found the thing that let down his walls a little bit. It was easy for Milo to come off as polite and well-mannered, but before now you had a creeping fear he was just being nice because that was the normal thing to do.

“Now you have to come n’ visit. All my Wooloo will love ya’.” But this made you feel a little better.

Once across the bridge, the colors of dusk were full in the sky. Thankfully it was easy enough to find a clearing nearby to set up camp. You let out your Pokemon to play with Pancham, only to have Wooloo and Yamper tackle to you the ground, giving you their excited and excessive versions of affection. Between your fits of giggles, you realize that your Pokemon probably felt your distress, but you left them in your bag and they were unable to get out.

“I missed you all too, I’m sorry it’s taken so long for you all to come out- ack, Yamper! Not in my mouth!” You can’t help but laugh as you sit up and hug your excited Pokemon. “And don’t forget to acquaint yourselves with Lotad!” The two scamper over to Vanillite and Lotad, who are chatting. You notice your Pancham guide acting a bit bashful to the side. “Now don’t be shy, everyone’s friendly! You all, make room for a new friend!” You gently push her towards your Pokemon, who let her join in.

The sound of opening Pokeballs draws your attention to your left, where you see three Pokemon floating around Milo. Two of them are the same species, though one seems incredibly stronger than the other. He’s gently petting them and whispering hellos.

“Go on, introduce yourselves.” They ride the breeze over to you, giggling and twirling around you. These must be native to Galar, or at least missing from Alola’s ecosystems, because you’ve never seen them before.

“This redhead here is Gossifleur,” Milo began, anticipating your question. Gossifleur spun as if on cue. “and these two elegant cotton balls are Eldegoss.” Both bowed towards you. The Gossifleur and one of the Eldegoss went over to join the other Pokemon, who were starting to play. “This one gave that Seismitoad a what-for when you were in trouble.” Made sense, he seemed way more experienced and skilled than any of the other Pokemon present.

You smiled and bowed as well. “I am in your debt. If you ever need me to sneak you treats past Milo, just give me the word.”

“H-hey now…” Milo put his hands to his hips as the Eldegoss twirled and giggled some more.

The two of you began to set up camp and the Pokemon romped and battled with each other. You were kind of relieved that your Pokemon could fight without direction, calling out orders in battle felt weird. If your Pokemon could fight more instinctively, that would would help out in future encounters.

First you helped Milo get his tent up, which his elder Eldegoss rested on top of the moment you finished. Then you looked around for sticks and dried up driftwood, since this area had less trees than the others you’ve camped at so far. You spot Milo squatting down at the coast of the lake and pulling up roots of some sort. Eventually you make it back to camp and begin stacking the wood, and Milo returns with what looks to be vegetables just washed in the lake.

“So for dinner, I’m thinkin’ I’ll-”

“Oh no no.” You interrupt, taking the roots from him. “You have been working so hard taking care of me. Let me do something for you.”

This catches Milo by surprise, which makes him a bit flustered. You realize that he does a lot so naturally that it must rattle him when something unexpected happens.

“But I don’t m-mind! You’re hurt ‘n all.”

“How about you start the fire, then check in on the Pokemon and make sure everyone’s playing nice?”

He blinks a few times before showing you a bit of an embarrassed smile. “M’kay, only if you promise to holler if you need help.”

“Promise.”

You borrow Milo’s paring knife while he takes out some flint for fire-making. Along with the roots you have mushrooms that you picked in the Dappled Grove and the berries that survived the trip from the Rolling Fields. You bring the root up to your nose and smell it, immediately jerking it away when you get a strong pungent, bitter smell.

“I can go find something else if you want-”

“Milo.”

He looks a little startled. “Y-yes?”

You see that the fire is growing and should be fine for cooking in due time. You point over to where the Pokemon are hanging out. “Go play.” Milo almost scrambles over to the group, and you smile a bit as they cheer and involve him into their activities. You can hear some giggling from behind you, likely his Eldegoss still perched on the tent.

Turning back to the ingredients in front of you, it’s likely the meal will have to be centered around the pungent root and mushrooms. The root will have to be peeled and well-grilled to begin tempering the bitterness, meaning you will likely grill the mushrooms as well. They would be okay together, but need a little more balancing… You sift through the berries in your bag until you find what you’re looking for: persim berries. Cooking this into the roux of the curry is bound will downplay the bitter elements of the root and allow the mushrooms to shine a bit more.

Grabbing a pot Milo brought with him, you head down to the lake. Milo looks like he’s about to say something to you, but the Pokemon tackle him for his attention. You fill it with water and return it to the fire, beginning prep work as it begins to boil. You put in the rice and eventually make the curry with persim paste. As all that cooks, you take a small break as everyone is making some noise and you see a bright light flash from the center of the group. Lotad was evolving, and you got to be the first to congratulate her as you hug your new Lombre. She seemed a lot more relaxed in this form, and looking around, it seemed like your Pokemon were training and tiring themselves out. You’ll have to check and see if they learned any new moves later.

Returning to the fire, you set up makeshift skewers so you can grill all the sliced mushrooms and root that you can. Once everything is done cooking you make plates for Milo and yourself by creating a bed of rice, scooping on the persim curry, and topping it all with the grilled root and mushrooms. Then you set out the rest for the Pokemon, calling everyone over to eat.

Milo and the Pokemon bound over enthusiastically to grab their helpings. Milo beams when you hand him his plate. In your periphery, you notice the Pancham acting shy again. “You didn’t come all this way just to look at others eat did you? Come, join your friends!” It seems like all she needed was permission because she bolted over immediately to eat with the rest of the Pokemon.“This is great!” Milo was shoveling in his dinner, he must have been hungrier than he let on. “I’ve never had such a well-considered meal while camping.”

You smiled at his compliment and took a bite yourself. The grilling helped bring out the sweet and savory elements while the curry had a balancing effect, to the point where you were actually enjoying the bitter profile of the pungent root. Not bad for making something out of completely foraged items!

If it wasn’t for everyone starting to quiet down because their mouths were full, you wouldn’t have heard the faint vibrating in your bag. You look over to Milo, who has his mouth full.

“I’m going to answer my phone, sorry if I take a while.”

He nods, clearly wanting to say something but instead focusing on chewing and swallowing his food as you slip towards your bag by the fire. You sit crossed-legged with your curry in your lap, and fish your phone from out of your pack. There’s a part of you that still wants to ignore it, but you imagine your tantrum has gone on long enough and it’s time to answer. You tentatively tap on your Rotom Phone and watch the video turned on.

It was Leon. This shocked you a bit since the number was from Sonia’s phone. He wasn’t looking at the phone but at something off camera, like he wasn’t really expecting you to pick up. Which, fair.

“Hi.”

You honestly have no idea what else to say.

There’s a couple seconds of pause as Leon’s eyes slowly move towards the screen and presumably to your face.

“Oh my god.” The way he says your name twists your heart with guilt. He looks a bit ragged, but as you look at his surroundings, you can see that he’s indoors somewhere. As he shifts to sit up, you can make out that he’s probably in a hotel room, flopped down in bed with the TV on in the background, some trainer’s battle statistics being read off. He’s in some casual clothes instead of his jersey, but still has on his trusty snapback. “You’re alive, thank Arceus. You’re alive.”

You close your eyes, already feeling a whirlwind of emotions.

“Leon, I-”“I’m sorry. I’m sorry! I’m so, so sorry. This was all my fault, please forgive me. Please. Please, I’m sorry.”

The distress in his voice almost startled you. The sincere desperation on his face is clear and unfiltered. A tremor spills through the palm holding your phone.

“No Leon, no. It was me. I’m the idiot here. I need to be the one apologizing.” Your nose sniffles, and the way your senses prickle tell you that tears will soon be on their way. You probably look miserable, and locking eyes with Leon is just making you feel like you’ve been acting like trash these past few days. “I’m so horrified at my behavior, and how I’ve acted. You must have been so worried.”

“I was, I thought, it would be all my fault if something happened to you.” From the sound of his voice, it sounds like Leon is beating you to the crying. “You didn’t answer, not even to yell at me, or tell me to leave you alone, so I couldn’t stop thinking of the worst.” Now come the tears, he doesn’t even pretend to hide them. This only prompted your own to run down your cheeks. “I can be such a bonehead, and insensitive to others, because I’m wrapped up in my own shit. And if you got hurt because I was being a jerk, I just don’t know what I would have done.”

The both of you trade apologies like this for a few more minutes through quiet sobbing. You’re sure the others could sense your emotion but you couldn’t bring yourself to look over.

“Leon, I promise, I’m okay. I only have a small injury and it’s healing well.”“…What? What happened?”

You recount your encounter with the Seismitoad. Leon cursed, and his golden eyes locked onto you fiercely. “I’m never letting you out of my sight again.”

That sounded rather extra, but for some reason, you didn’t mind. You tried to smile through the ugly crying.

“I was lucky that I was saved by a kind stranger camping out in the Dappled Grove. He’s escorting me to Motostoke, I think I could be there by tomorrow.”

There’s an uncomfortable pause, though you’re not sure why it is.

“Do you… feel safe, you know, with him?” Leon looks dead serious.

“My chastity remains unspoiled, dear knight.”

Leon turns red but maintains his serious demeanor. “I hate that you’re still out there. Maybe if I leave now-”“No, Leon, don’t. I know you probably have important champion stuff to be doing. Don’t waste time on me because I’ve been acting like a brat.”

“Don’t say that about yourself. Well, at least, you’re not a waste of time to me.” He cracks a bit of a smirk for the first time this entire call. “Though yeah you’re a brat for all you’ve put me and Sonia through.”

“I deserve that.” Your hand rubs at your face, trying to clear away some of the tears. “I owe you both a big apology. Letting me camp with you all and then just running off like that.”

“Hey, all that matters is that you’re safe.”

Leon’s attention suddenly shifts away from the phone, and he beckons someone over. Sonia’s face squeezes into frame and she immediately starts crying, which makes you cry all over again too.

“We were so worried about you! God I was terrified thinking of you out there all by yourself.” She managed through her tears. “You’re grounded, under house arrest, in detention. I don’t want you missing ever again! This is what happens when I leave you with Leon.”

“H-hey, I was worried too!” The two bicker some, and you all begin to break down into soft giggles, sniffles, and hiccups.

“I promise not to do this ever again. If you all want to send me back to Postwick though, I don’t blame you, I deserve it.”

“Don’t say things like that. We promised to go on an adventure together remember?”

You smiled, remembering your time in Wedgehurst with Sonia.

“I-I want to come on the adventure too…” Leon was pouting.

“When I get to Motostoke, I owe you both apologies, and explanations.” You look down, dreading it but knowing it’s the right thing to do. “You both have been so kind, and are basically my anchor here.” A yawn escapes from your mouth. “I should be in Motostoke tomorrow, don’t worry about me if you both are busy with things.”

Sonia wrestles her phone from Leon’s grasp. “Just keep us updated, okay? We’re staying in the Budew Hotel, but if you make it in time, you can watch Hop and Gloria participate in the opening ceremony!”

Nodding, you tell yourself that tomorrow has to be a hustle so you can make it in time. “It’s a promise.”

You hear Leon mutter something off to the side which catches Sonia’s attention, making her snicker. “The Great Unbeatable Champion Leon has a request~” She deftly dodges a pillow being thrown at her from off-camera. “And really, me too, because I want him to leave my phone alone: can I pass along your number to Leon?”

It seems like not all of the of the calls and texts you got were from Sonia after all. You nod with a small smile. You’re glad that this seems mostly like water under the bridge, though you are still a bit embarrassed about how silly you’ve been acting.

Shifting a bit, you realize that you’ve barely touched your dinner. “Okay, I’m going to go. I can’t wait to see you two tomorrow!”

Leon nudged into the camera frame as they both gave their goodbyes, and soon the call was over. You couldn’t help but give one long exhale, trying to relieve all the tension you’ve been holding in your body. It wasn’t even seconds after you put your phone away that Wooloo, Yamper, and Pancham ran over and pressed into you.

“Aww you guys. Thank you.” You tried to hug them all at once, and saw Milo coming over, chuckling.

“Sorry, I tried to keep ‘em at bay to give you some space.” He extended his hand to help you up from the Pokemon pile that wiggled on top of you. His grip encircled yours, warm.

You picked up your plate of food and returned to the rest around the fire, sitting next to Milo. Your Wooloo nestled against your side as your other Pokemon began to huddle together for warmth and comfort.

“Apologies for taking so long, didn’t mean to ignore you.” You begin to eat your curry. “How’s dinner?”

“Amazin’, you have a good touch for cookin’! The Pokemon were very pleased.”

“And how about you?”

He blinks a few times. “I m-mean, of course I loved it…”It takes all your strength to not smirk or laugh, to not give away how you said that on purpose just to get a reaction from Milo. “I’m glad, I wanted you to feel how grateful I am that you’re as kind as you are.” You look over to him, and even though the only light is coming from the campfire, it’s not hard to see he’s blushing. “I’ve caused you trouble, and I just want to thank you for all that you’ve done for me.”

Milo stammers out some words that you can’t really understand, but you just smile and continue eating as he works through his awkwardness. Guy has to learn to take a compliment, you know?

“Y-you’re welcome though!!” He eventually spits out, desperately scooping at his empty plate trying to seem like he was concentrating on eating still. You hear the telltale giggling of his Pokemon around him. “You guys, s-stop!”

Cracking a smile, you collect all the dinnerware and head down to the lake to wash everything. The moon is covered by clouds, but some of its light shimmers on the surface of the water. The conversation with Sonia and Leon replays through your mind as you wipe off the remnants of dinner. It was surprising that they didn’t tell you off or make you to go home to Postwick. It showed that you were ready to give up when others believed in you. And you needed to see this through, mainly for your own personal growth, but also to respect the time and energy other put into you.

Returning to camp, you come to an almost domestic scene of all your Pokemon and Pancham just huddled in one cute heap and Milo nearby petting Wooloo with one hand while he checks his phone with the other. Sensing your emotions, your Rotom Phone zips out of your pocket and snaps a picture. The camera shutter sound and your subsequent scolding of Rotom alerts Milo to your presence.

“Thanks for takin’ care of the dishes! I feel spoiled.”

“Good.” You smile, hoping Milo doesn’t bring up the fact that your Rotom creeped on him, and set the plates and such into his tent. “Though I bet you’re ready for me to get out of your hair by now I’m sure.”

“Not at all.” He checks the time on his phone. “But if we’re gonna make it to Motostoke before the openin’ ceremony, we should probably hit the hay soon and get up early.” He stretched and yawned, with Wooloo whining a little from the loss of contact.

The both of you rustle around preparing for bed, Milo inside his tent and you rolling out your sleeping bag by the campfire. You’re about to douse the fire when Milo calls for your attention, his head poking out from his tent.

“You’re sleepin’ outside? Aren’t you chilly out here?” He sounds concerned, which makes you feel something all over.

“I imagine you want your tent back to yourself. Plus I got this big pile of Pokemon to keep me warm.” All of your Pokemon are out except for Vanillite, who returned to their Pokeball after no one wanted to cuddle with below freezing body temperatures, with Pancham taking their place. However you would be lying if a reason you decided to stay outside was out of respect for Milo’s relationship with Nessa.

Milo’s brow is furrowed and it seems like there’s a battle going on in his head. “Okay, only if you’re sure…” He pauses. “I really don’t mind i-if y-you…” His voice trails off and you take it as him trying to be polite.

“Don’t worry, you deserve a night off from babysitting me. I can handle this.” …you think.

He eventually accepts your answer, not one to push, and eventually wishes you good night before slipping back inside his tent. You douse the fire and crawl into your sleeping bag, and the Pokemon promptly huddle into the various nooks your body makes sleeping on your side. Turns out having cuddly Pokemon has its practical benefits too. Your eyes were about to close when you heard your phone buzz.

Rotom apologized noting the timing, but you see a text from an unfamiliar Galarian number, and upon opening the message realize it’s Leon.

Hi its Leon! Just texting you so you have my number

You smile, starting to feel a sense of normalcy after all the events in the Wild Area.

thanks~ looking forward to reuniting tomorrow <3

Moving to slip your phone back into a bag pocket, you pause when it vibrates again. You turn the screen towards you and see Leon has already replied.

I can’t wait I don’t think I’ll be able to sit still until I see you with my own eyes

So much for ‘just’ texting you for saving his number. A part of you admits that you’re a little happy though.

definitely hustling over to Motostoke, planning on waking up early and everything! will you be busy doing things for the ceremony tomorrow?

Your eyes close for only a moment before you get another text from Leon.

Well yes I mean I am the Champion after all ;)

You snort at him capitalizing champion, stirring your Yamper from her sleep for a second before you pet her back into slumber.

Pardon me, your Highness. i come from a land without royalty

Pancham wiggles around in the space behind your knees before breathing out a satisfied sigh.

PLEASE don’t call me that lol sorry I keep forgetting you dont know much about sports

You roll your eyes a bit.

then do enlighten me, Mr. Unbeatable Champion Sir ;)

The screen lights up with an immediate “STOP” text from him, making you giggle. Wooloo bleats a soft noise of concern into your chest, and promptly goes back to sleep when nothing seems wrong.

Nooooo you’re killing me dooooont :( one thing I like about you is that you treat me like a normal human being not like the Champion

You’re not sure if you should read into that text or not.

But anyway I can sneak away whenever Charizard can show me to the city gates. So make sure to text me as you’re arriving and I can meet you!!!! :D

Looks like Charizard is going to be the one guiding you around Motostoke then.

sounds like a plan! see you tomorrow then~

Leon wishes you a good night, and you finally tuck Rotom into your bag. Closing your eyes, you can’t help but think of how normal that felt. Being out in the Wild Area has really pushed you out of your element, a scary place in a strange region. You’ve never really camped before and now you’ve just spent three days in the wilderness. And now that’s you’re recovering from a near-death experience, it’s time to leave the Wild Area for the rest of your days.

Just as you were about to drift off, you heard the unzipping of Milo’s tent, followed by footsteps and the shuffling of some material against fabric. Your eyes open and head turns as the Pokemon resting against your body shift in response to what they are sensing. It’s almost pitch black, but the light from a Rotom Phone shows someone is lying a sleeping bag down near you.

“…Milo…?”

His silhouette pauses before continuing to slide into his sleeping bag.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake ya.”

You turn your body so you’re completely facing him. The Pokemon grumble when they are disturbed, and now congregate in-between Milo and yourself, with Wooloo shamelessly pressing into Milo’s chest.

“What are you doing out here?”

“It just didn’t feel right lettin’ you sleep out here all by yourself.”

You’re thankful for the cover of darkness, since you definitely have an embarrassed smile on your face.

“Oh, you don’t have to do this really, I got the Pokemon out here with me.”

“I can leave if it makes ya uncomfortable-”

“No!”

You say a little too quickly and loudly, enough to startle some of your Pokemon.

“I mean… I like that you’re here, and selfishly want you to stay, I just don’t want you inconveniencing yourself on my behalf even more than you already have… Arceus, I’m talking too much.”

You desperately wish you could read his expression through the dark, but you think you hear a light chuckle.

“I want to be here too. Sounds like everythin’s alright then.”

It feels like you should just fall asleep at that, but also, it seems like the right time to chat a little more.

“Looks like Wooloo’s happy. We might have to do joint custody at this rate.”

You can hear Wooloo’s wool being pet, and the Pokemon letting out a pleased sigh.

“He definitely would make all my other Wooloo jealous. I wonder if they’ll play well with him.”

“We’ll have to find out when I visit.”

There’s a few moments of silence, and you yawn a little.

“I’ll miss your company until then.”

Milo seems to shift around in his sleeping bag a bit in response to that.

“…r-really now? Sounds like you have good friends waitin’ for ya…”

You hum a bit as your eyes feel heavier. It’s true, you are about to re-enter the whirlwind that is Leon and Sonia. But there is something about this man in front of you that makes you feel a different way. You can’t quite put your finger on it, but that’s why you wish you could spend more time with him.

“Yeah but I want to spend more time with you.”

Your thoughts are getting a bit hazy and running into your words as physical and emotional exhaustion begin to overtake you.

“You make me… feel different…”

If Milo responded, you’ve fallen too deep into sleep to hear it.

#milo x reader #pokemon imagines #pokemon sword and shield imagines #pokemon milo imagines #pokemon milo #pokemon swsh imagines #fanfiction #a bundle of yarrow #fic

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zrtranscripts · 3 years

Text

Home Front, Mission 8: Peter’s Fitness Montage

Fitness, not fighting

PETER LYNNE: Hello, listeners. It's me again, poor old Peter, still stuck in a projection box at the Princess Louise Theater. And since you last heard from me, I have faced my greatest survival challenge yet. Oh um, speaking of, you're going to be facing a few challenges yourself soon, courtesy of yours truly. So um, why don't you start warming up now? A few stretches, running on the spot, whatever gets your juices flowing, as the bishop said to the personal trainer.

Um, yes. Anyway um, in case you've forgotten, the auditorium here is absolutely packed with zombies, but keeping a movie on the screen distracts them. So there I was, looking through the cinemas digital archives for something nice and long, and I found a playlist of every single Rocky movie for a Sly Stallone fan marathon. Except the playlist got stuck and I've been watching Rocky movies on a loop for eight days straight, listeners. I've managed to stop the playlist around the tenth run-through of Rocky III.

I fear I might have gone a bit peculiar. I spent the whole morning on comms to Janine waxing lyrical about Mr. T, but - but it has given me a great idea for a workout, and you'll never guess. It is boxing. Plenty of fisticuff-related entries on my list of Ministry exercises. First, though, a song that'll help you with your warm-up. I'm going to put on some music you can dance around to and really get your blood pumping, and if I am very lucky, maybe I'll finally get “Eye of the Tiger” out of my head.

PETER LYNNE: Welcome back, friends. Now I know we're all quite tired of being stuck indoors. Oh yes, although uh, Runner Five, if you're listening, I gather you've had a change of location recently. Locked down in a camping shop, Sam said. Could be worse. [laughs] I mean, you could be me. But let me tell you, my cinematic ordeal has given me the perfect lens for viewing this lockdown. See, we need to not think of it as being trapped, oh no. We can think of this as one extended indoor fitness montage. We are just in that part of the movie where we have to hunker down, crank the volume, and get our pulses racing!

So let's keep our warm-up going with some more push-ups, because if they worked for Rocky, they're gonna work for us. [paper rustles] Right, here is our official technique courtesy of Ministry guidelines. First, I want you to get down on all fours with your arms just over shoulder-width apart, then straighten out your body, supporting yourself on your hands and also your toes. Now lower yourself to the floor and push yourself back up again. Now if that feels too difficult, that's fine. Don't be afraid to support yourself on your knees and lower legs instead of your tiptoes. We are going to try one whole minute of push-ups or as many as you can manage. And go!

Excellent. Don't get carried away. Tortoise and the hare, all of that. 15 seconds down. Don't rush. Take your time with each push-up. That's beautiful. Exactly what we want, I assume. Halfway there. Feel the burn, as the old cliche goes. Never quite understood what that was supposed to mean. Uh, 15 seconds left. Oh, you can taste the finish line now! And five, four, three, two, one, and rest. Done.

All right, well, you should be all warmed up. I'm actually going to do a few push-ups myself in the next music break and you know, feel free to rest or you can keep going along with me. Frankly, I'm finding this music by going through movie credits and I want to be distracted when Cats III comes up next. So stay put, everyone. Your pal Peter will be back after this.

PETER LYNNE: Well, my friends, I have a shameful confession. I'm actually starting to miss the Rocky movies. Even the really bad ones, which is something of a tautology, but it just goes to show a person can get used to anything. I mean, Janine told me to emphasize our goal today is fitness, not fighting. Abel runners always do their damnedest to avoid conflict, and rightly so. If you do end up in a scrap, you need to be able to dodge as well as hit, so before we get to the hitting, you are going to practice a move called the side-to-side hop. Not a classic dance move, but it'll help you hone your evasive reflexes.

So to do this, we start by balancing on one foot with your knees and your arms bent. Then you hop to the side like you're jumping over an imaginary line that's between your legs, landing on the ball of the opposite foot. So try that for me. And absolutely fair, if you've got any knee problems or if that's painful, you can just do a grapevine or sidestep instead, totally fine. Okay, now we just keep hopping back and forth across that line, but as fast as you can. See if you can keep that up for a solid 45 seconds. I promise you will find that deceptively challenging.

And we are going to start now. There we go, but don't get carried away. You've set yourself a high bar. 15 seconds down, 30 left to go. Probably starting to feel what I meant now. 30 seconds down. You can pretend that you're dodging punches or - or lunging zombies. There's - there's one on the left. There's one right. Duck, duck, move! And five, four, three, two, one, and stop hopping.

Brilliant work! Right, so that's got our fancy footwork in the bag, and that means we can [metallic bang] Um... Did you... did you hear that? Uh, well no. No, you didn't. And well, of course, no, me neither. Um... It's gone. That's... Okay. I'm going to put some music on so that we can all pretend that that just didn't happen. Uh, you all take a break and relax or um, you know, bust out your best dance moves. Oh, but uh, seriously though, uh, don't overdo it. Because when we get back, it's going to be time to, uh, really get the workout going. Okay? All right.

PETER LYNNE: Okay. Well, that's quite enough of that one. Yeah, that - that song always reminds me of a bad breakup. I can't actually remember which. [metallic bang] It's back, and that was - that was definitely louder that time. See, um, I've been hearing some not really great things in this booth, listeners. Sort of... shuffling from behind the walls. You know, I think... something might be crawling around in the, uh, ventilation system. But uh, I mean... I mean, there's definitely not going to be enough room in the ducts for-for zombie. That would be... I mean, unless it was just a half of a zom. Oh God, what if it was just like that? Just like the front half, just like some sort of fleshy gingerbread man just like rolling itself down there, looking for a way out?

Um... yes. Okay, I'm, I am quite scared, actually. Uh, there's nowhere to run in this booth, but we still have exercises like this, which I find are a fantastic distraction. You see, I can immediately pretend that I am a seven foot tall beefcake training to take on whatever that is. Good God, that sounds pathetic when I say it out loud.

Okay, we're gonna have to move on. Um, punches, ladies and gentlemen. [paper rustles] First, you're going to need to adopt a Ministry-approved fighting stance. Hold your fists up in front of you. You have to have your dominant hand held back, and that's protecting your face, and the other hand is extended in order to attack. So plant your feet diagonally, shoulder-width apart, with your knees just slightly bent. Your dominant foot goes to the back. Right, we're going to start with the basic jab. You punch out with your lead hand, rotating your arm so your knuckles end up facing up and your shoulder moves forward. So we're going to do one minute of jabs. If you'd like some variety, feel free to alternate your stance from time to time and then you end up leading with the other arm.

Ready, set, go! There we are, perfect! More aggression, get the anger out. 15 seconds down. You can try imagining a bullseye. Aim right for the center of the target. You could even imagine an actual bull's eye and aim right for the middle of its face. Great. Halfway down, just keep on beating that bull in the face. I don't know what it did to you. I like to imagine that it's taunting me. I don't know what sort of names it's come up with, but they were hurtful and I think it mentioned my mother. 15 seconds left. We're so near the end now, we're gonna get that bull. I'm gonna move away from the bull. You can imagine whatever you like. Jab! Jab! Five, four, three, two, and we're done.

Good, very good. It's important, though, with zoms of course, punching has to be your last resort. But in the meantime, as a way to get your frustrations out, it's not a bad go-to, eh? I'm gonna do a bit more of it myself in this next break and uh, if you guys want to keep jabbing alongside me, well, all things considered, wouldn't really mind the company.

PETER LYNNE: Right there, kiddos, time to get comfortable. Here's a genuine piece of advice. Now like I said, punching zombies has to be your last resort. I have seen more than a few tough morons get infected themselves from undead blood in their knuckles. All men, by the way. Shock, horror, I know. So if you do ever find yourself boxing a gray, remember, if you don't have gloves - and that's what you want - at least wrap your hands in cloth or gauze. Your aim is only to knock them down or away so that you can run.

So to that end, we are now going to try some punches with a bit more juice behind them than the jab. These are our hooks and uppercuts. So back in your boxing stance, one arm back, one arm forward. So the uppercut, you keep your feet grounded, bend your knees and rotate your body with the direction of your lead arm. So you're pushing off of your lead calf and punching upwards with the lead arm, releasing your rear heel and feel that rotate outwards as you go. So try that all together. It should feel like you've got the power coming through in that punch. Great, okay.

So now the hook. Back to the stance. Now you shift your weight to your lead foot whilst swinging your lead fist in an inward horizontal arc and moving your shoulder forwards. So try that. You can imagine just knocking a zombie's head off with this one, right off of his shoulders. Great, okay. Now we are going to try a full minute of mixed jabs, hooks, and uppercuts. Dealer's choice, so go wild, switch them up, swap stances occasionally. Get ready, and go!

Excellent, we're off to a flying start. Look at you, you scrappy little thing. 15 seconds down. Imagine you're fighting a big scary zombie version of Ivan Drago. You know, that's the um, the-the villain from-from Rocky IV. Why am I telling you? You know this. Keep going. Yes, lay into him! One, two. More! Halfway there. You've got him on the ropes. And of course, he's gonna get stronger and come back at you, and it'll look like you're down. but you're not down, you're back up! And it's 15 seconds. He's now almost down! Yes, you've got the upper hand now. Finish it off! Five, four, three, two... Oh, and it's a knockout! Surely not! They've won the belt and the title! Oh, good job, people.

Yes. Now I might have gotten a bit carried... [metallic bang] Okay, that one was... that was loud. See, there's um... so there's this air vent right by the projector and I can see a shadow moving under the grill. See, the reason I worry is that there's a, uh, there's this broken open vent in the toilet and so if that thing comes through that whilst I'm sleeping... Okay. Listen up, people. I am going to go and confront the monster. Fear not for old Peter. I am not totally unarmed. I have this mop. Perfect. I'm going to put on some music first. You can rest or... you know what? Actually, throw a few more punches in the break if you feel up to it. Can't hurt to know you champs are fighting alongside me, eh? [laughs] Okay, on three then, I suppose. One, two, three, and off we go!

PETER LYNNE: Well um, hello again, everyone. So that one did not turn out exactly as I expected. Turns out wasn't a zombie at all. That was actually just a scrawny little fox, and it must have come in through the window, sniffing after... I mean, I guess rotting flesh? I don't know why it would want that. But got itself lost and just came shooting out like a bullet when I opened the vent in here. It's just, uh, it's actually just sitting in the corner now. It looks friendly enough. [fox screeches] Maybe not. Right. Okay. That's your side of the room now. Completely understood. I've probably got some food around here somewhere, actually.

Tell you what. Um, I actually do need to thank you, listeners. Might sound silly, but without you, I actually might not have worked up the courage to open the vent. That would have meant this little fellow would have starved to death instead of coming out to occupy half of my room. Hey, hello. Yes, that's you. Catch this. Here we go. [laughs] Somebody's a fan of old, old cinema hot dogs. That makes two of us. Please don't tell anyone.

All right, listeners, I'm going to go and find more scraps to feed to my new roommate here, and it really is sometimes better to make friends than fight, especially when your rival's got those big teeth. Don't worry, I'll be back very soon. And in the meantime, stay safe out there, champs. You know, I'll be rooting for you. Oh, and uh, if anyone knows how to um, delete a movie playlist, could you try and get in touch somehow? Honestly, it is amazing the things you miss when they're gone.

#zombies run #zr home front #zrhf8 #peter's fitness montage #zr transcript

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thebonggirll · 4 years

Text

Chapter 24 - Hosu City

Chapter 23

"Wake up interns! Baiji has called everyone near the Tokyo Bay in 15 minutes!! Finish your breakfast and get ready!! Wear your hero costume!" One of the assistants came to the girls dorm and woke them up. There were only 4 girls who came in as interns, so they had less problem about space than the boys.

"I get the bathroom first!" Y/N screamed and ran in with her hero costume, brush and tooth paste. She heard the annoyed sighs of her roommates outside. After a full day of physical training, all of the interns slept like a log. But unlike the previous day, today they were woken up at 6 am instead. Just two hour difference but no one had any complaints. They didn't want to be woken up at 4 a.m. again as a punishment. They already got a taste of how petty Baiji can be and any kind of argument will just end up with more training.

Oikawa and Y/N became pretty good friends eventhough it was just two days. Oikawa had the kind of an aura that would make anyone feel comfortable. They shared phone numbers and she finally talked to him about the guy who made her blush, because 'he is not from our school anyway, no one will know'. She texted Kyoka and talked about how their training was going on. Ofcourse, their conversation was full of complaints and how the agency just won't leave their ass alone, but it was refreshing to talk freely after hours of training.

When the interns reached to Tokyo Bay, Baiji was standing with a coffee on one hand and she was using her teeth to adjust the gloves of her right hand. Suddenly seeing them, she remembered that she was supposed to be a guidance, and then stood properly - half of her right hand glove dangling down. "Great to see you in your hero costume! Well, I hope you had your breakfast because you're going to be really hungry for lunch."

"Yep, we have something big for us." Oikawa muttered to Y/N.

"How do you know? She didn't say that."

"Well, she never told us that we are going to be tired for the previous trainings. But if she's actually informing us about it, then it probably means that we have to work harder than we did before."

"Today we are going to be concentrating on your quirks. You are going to control your quirks based on when and where you're using it. All of you will be supervised by my assistants ofcourse, but you'll be presented with separate situations. There will be children and crowd present at times, and you have to use your quirk wisely. The villain here are going to be my assistants. They'll train you accordingly and teach you where and what you should work on. I'll surprise you with some obstacles in the last stage, just to test your observational skills." Baiji instructed, "I won't hold back. So be prepared. And those who manage to impress me will have the chance to see my work around today."

Every intern were given separate spaces and positions and every one started their training. Y/N first was asked to control her water properly. First stage was to change the amount and range of water suddenly, without any obstacles and standing on one position. The assistants were making them do everything step-by-step. It was pretty easy when there were no distractions. The second stage though was a bit hard. It was the same as the first, except that they had to control their quirk while moving and jumping around.

Baiji might look lazy and clumsy but she was extremely aware of all the interns and what they needed to work on. Her memory was sharp in this sense. She was the kind who would work hard until she perfected at her task. And that's what she was looking forward to. She never pushed the interns if it became unbearable, but found a seperate way for it to work out. It's not like everyone should follow the same pattern. She believed every intern in her agency was unique in their own sense and just needed to find their own way of getting stronger. In this particular day she was not only in the field, but also advising on the things the interns should work on. She went around every hour giving them reviews.

"Your consistency of exerting water while moving around sucks," Baiji said after an hour passed, "When you'll fight villains, if you waver even for a second, it can prove to be harmful to you and those around you. But at the same time you need to be aware of the surroundings. Trust me you won't even have a clue when I sneak up behind you. Also, I've seen your speed during the festival. Try using your quirk on your legs after the second step, and practice with it. If you can use it perfectly, it'll be a huge benefit for you. And remember, no one knows what you are capable of more than yourself. You know how your quirk works now, so focus on how you can use it and what you can do to pull off new moves."

"Okay ma'am," Y/N said getting ready to train again.

"Oh, and stop calling me ma'am. It feels too weird, so just call me by my name,"

Y/N smiled as her eyes fixated on the assistant in front of him and said, "I won't disappoint you Baiji."

Yes, she was aware of how quickly she gets distracted, but Y/N didn't expect to be slapped with water spray by Baiji 14 times. They weren't even on the 6th stage where Baiji is supposed to test her observational skill. Her eyes were red and body was aching on moving around too much. It didn't go unnoticed by Oikawa though, who was looking like a mess himself.

They were all given comfortable seats to sit on during their lunch after the kind of training they went through. Y/N's phone rang, indicating a text message.

"Oooh, who's this girl? She's cute," Oikawa said peeking at her phone.

"She's my best friend, and no, I can't fix a date for you because she has someone she likes."

"You can atleast ask her right? She's not taken yet. How can you be even sure she'll say no?"

"Because she denies a lot of how she doesn't like him but I see her actually enjoying more time with him than any other guy around. Even though he's a bit of a perv. Like she actually blushes and stuff."

"As if your choice of that pomeranian is any better. I would've never imagined that you can like someone as aggressive as him."

"You looked him up on internet, didn't you?"

"Well, I was curious!!" Oikawa's eyes darted towards her phone and he said, "Pass me your phone. We should click a selfie! I want to show off that I know Haruto's sister."

"I already have a rumor going on man, don't-"

"Well, then let's click a group picture too!"

After taking the pictures, and sending it to everyone, Oikawa gave her phone back with a smirk on his face.

"What the hell did you do?" Y/N said snatching away the phone from him. She looked at her phone screen and her eyes almost popped off her face. She smacked his back hard and squealed in embarassment.

"What?!" he said rubbing his back, "As if you've the guts to make a move! It's a step forward!"

"Oh and how many relationships did you have sir?!!"

"Plenttyyy!!"

"That's even worse!!"

They bickered for a while and Y/N contemplated if she should just send a message saying "wrong number" or something to Bakugou. But she was curious about his reaction and just decided to wait it out. She can just say it wasn't her later. They don't bring their phones during training anyway.

The training was a bit hard after lunch. Without obstacles, it was easy to control her quirk.When the assistants were acting as villains, she learned faster and better than expected. But ofcourse, the last stage was really hard. Along with the villains, there were people set as civilians now who were in boats, so it was hard to think of a plan out of the blue while she was getting attacked. And this was also when Baiji was going to actually test her.

"Concentrate!" the assistant shouted, "You've hit 3 civilians already! Focus on your surroundings Y/N! You've just got to use your senses better!"

She had to clear her mind first. Her anxiety of getting everything done at the same time was always what got in her way. It wavered her attention a lot. Y/N decided on keeping the villain engaged in some way and use some time to move the civilians to somewhere safe. How and what, she had no idea. Her eyes moved momentarily towards the coast and she remembered what Baiji said. She had to pull off something. Besides, for someone who always had a clumsy image in front of interns, she wanted to know how she handled her work. She focused on some water under the villain's feet while attacking him with her left hand, she created a round ball of water and forced it on the assistant, keeping him trapped in it. Y/N kept the ball of water rotating, while he tried to get out of it. She knew that time was short and within a minute he'll be out. So she used her left hand to control the water, needed to move the civilians away. And–

BAM!

A punch on her guts almost made her lose grip and take her breath away. It was Baiji. Ofcourse. She said, she was going to be harsh. Y/N gained control again, and she was angry on herself for getting hit even after practicing so hard with Oikawa that day. Somehow her anger made her control over the ball of water rotate faster, where the villains wasn't able to get themselves out anymore since the force of water spiraling inside was harsh. Y/N focused on bringing the boat closer near the coast.

SMACK!

She used her feet to block Baiji's attack. Before she could attack again, Y/N used her feet and moved fast towards the coast dragging the boat along. She could've stayed and fought them but safety was the first priority. And when the people finally gave the safe signal to her, she moved away from the coast, the assistant still in her grip. A hand settled on her shoulder and she moved her arm to hit Baiji with her elbow.

"Time's up," Baiji said immediately catching her elbow, "Release my assistant please. He can control water but he can still drown."

"Oh! Sorry!" Y/N said and released her grip on the coast, where the assistant was coughing out and catching his breath.

"I didn't think you'll be able to defend yourself. But good job! You focused on your quirk and made a new move like I said. Focus on control and movements, and you'll get to make more new moves in no time." Baiji patted her shoulder and called everyone to gather round.

"So when are we reaching?" Baiji said, urgency evident on her voice, "The whole city is on fire for fuck's sake! Drive faster!"

"It's spreading, yes, but not the whole city. And please langua–"

"Oh FUCK the language!!!"

"Okay, sorry kids." Baiji's sidekick said looking at the Y/N, Oikawa and another girl from the rear-view mirror, "Just try not to get hurt, okay?"

"We'll definitely try," Y/N said looking at both of them.

"Okay," Baiji said as soon as the car stopped near police vehicles, "Everyone get ready! We received information that strange strong creatures are attacking the city and the heroes are trying their best to keep those in control! Our job is to put off the fire first of all, and then rescue any citizen in trouble. And remember, unless you have no other option left, DO NOT FIGHT WITH THE VILLAINS. Our top priority is rescuing people, got it?!"

"Yes ma'am!!" Everyone said stepped out of the car. The interns took a moment to observe the sight. It was chaos everywhere. And the creatures that they were talking about were actually Nomus - the ones that Y/N encountered with in USJ along with her classmates. It took All Might a lot to beat one of those and now, there were more than one. Clearly, the heroes were struggling to bring them under control.

The sidekick and Baiji separated into two teams along with their assistants.

"I'll take the kids with me!" Baiji said, "Don't worry, I'm pretty sure that they can take care of themselves. I just need one other assistant!"

"I don't think we should take the risk of taking these interns! Unlike previous interns, it's nothing like the other works we've taken them to-"

"Exactly! These interns are different! Heroes are getting stronger and better with each passing year and these interns need first-hand experience too!" Her eyes moved towards Y/N, "And some even do."

"....Okay ma'am," The sidekick said and left along with the assistants.

As Y/N started running behind Baiji, she heard screams and bursts everywhere. She didn't forget about it. Her thoughts were consumed about her friend, "Iida's here. This has to be a coincidence...right? The Hero Killer is not so flashy. Besides, Iida is very intelligent. He wont...come here...just for revenge.."

"..right?"

Chapter 25

SEASON - II

Ignite

MASTERLIST

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the-awkward-outlaw · 4 years

Note

Can you do something with a seriously injured/sick Modern!Arthur ending up in the hospital ICU and female reader being his doctor?

This one turned out much different from what I expected. Hope it works for you, Anon! Also, for any of you who work in healthcare, forgive my bullshit. I did some research but I really know next to nothing about it.

Warnings: anxiety, mentions of smut

You pick up the new chart for your most recent patient and sigh heavily. You figured you’d get this case. Earlier this morning, you’d heard of a car accident and that one of the drivers involved was rushed to your hospital. Sure enough, when you open it to read the patient’s info, it is the same incident. He was terfed to you in the ICU from surgery. You read the name “Morgan, Arthur” but think nothing of it. Just another name.

Before heading to see your new patient, you stop by the lounge and grab a cup of coffee. You’d like to run downstairs to the hospital’s coffee shop and get something better, but you need to see your patient first. You chug the bitter coffee, despite it being eight at night. You’re here until morning anyways, running one of your mandatory night shifts.

You stop at the nurse’s station and see Hailey, one of the nurses. “Hailey, have you finished with Mr. Morgan?” you ask. She nods. “Yes, I gave him a full workup. He’s still out from the surgery, but I gave him the usual amount of morphine for someone his size.”

“His size?” you say, furrowing your brow and opening the chart again. In the section stating his height and weight, you read 6’2 and 203 pounds. You mentally shrug your shoulders and thank Hailey, asking if there’s anything more you need to know before going into his room. She shakes her head and goes off towards another room.

When you open the door to Arthur’s room, you look at him lying in the hospital bed. He’s got the usual set up: IV, heart monitor on his finger, cast around his left arm. You open his chart again and read the surgery to fix his arm took just under five hours and they’d had to put a few pins in near his elbow. He also needed a transfusion during surgery. You go over to a board holding up his CT and x-ray scans. It was reported that he may have struck his head on the driver window of his truck and it was thought he might have some swelling in his skull. Luckily, his scans are negative for that and the only thing broken is his arm. He also has a tear in his rotator cuff and a laceration in his calf. Those things considered, he’s very lucky. You’d read the article about the accident. He’s lucky to be alive, his truck was a pretzel.

You check over him. He is quite handsome, but you’re professional of course. He’s not the first handsome man who’s been thrown your way and he certainly won’t be the last. Just as you’re writing down some notes about his condition, his eyes open slightly and he looks around, his eyes landing on you. This is a good opportunity for you to check his mental condition, or at least as much as you can since he’s still under the influence of the anesthesia.

“Hello Arthur, can you hear me?” you say softly, standing close to him.

His heart beat picks up a bit and he breathes out heavily. “Was… accident…” he mumbles in a gruff voice.

“That’s right, you were in an accident. You’re okay though, you’re in the hospital. Just take it easy and relax.”

You give him a few moments to wake up a bit further and collect himself. When you ask him if he’s in any pain, he says no. You offer him a sip of his water and he takes it. Just as you’re lowering the glass and getting ready to leave, his good hand suddenly shoots up and grabs yours. This isn’t unusual, of course. People respond differently when waking up from the drugs he’s on. At least he isn’t being aggressive.

“You’re real pretty,” he says roughly. “Real pretty.” His eyes close and he’s out again. You smile to yourself. When you first came in and noticed his large build and rugged appearance, you didn’t figure he’d be sweet like this. You’re curious how he’ll be when he’s more coherent.

*******************************

It’s nearly five in the morning and you’re nearly done with your shift. It’s been a long night, but not unusual. You’re making your last rounds again to check on your patients before heading home. You stop by Arthur’s room and go in. Rebecca, another nurse, is in the room, checking on his supply of fluids and the monitors.

“Did he wake at all?” you ask.

“Only for a moment or two. Said he wasn’t feeling much.”

“Good,” you say, but you’re curious. Rebecca’s pretty, much prettier than you in your opinion. “Hey, when he was awake, did he call you pretty?”

“No,” she says and you can tell she’s being honest. “Why?”

“Hmm, nothing. Just… heard from one of the other nurses he’d called them pretty,” you lie. You’ve never once thought of yourself as attractive, but pride yourself on acting like you don’t care. You’ll die before you admit to anyone that the one thing you want most is to curl up in the arms of someone who loves you. You’ve been alone so long, you’ve given up on exploring what that feels like, so you’ve pretended like you don’t care, that you prefer being alone.

Rebecca smiles. “Well, lucky her. He’s cute! Got that rough look some girls just love.”

“You mean you love,” you tease. She giggles and walks out. You sigh and go over to his bed, checking him over again despite Rebecca having just done it. You aren’t quite sure why, you don’t do this with the other patients when they’ve just been checked on since you can trust the nursing staff. “Get a grip on yourself,” you say quietly. “Just because he called you pretty when he was floating in outer space doesn’t mean anything. He’ll probably find you just as ugly as everyone else when he’s back to normal.”

You mentally shake yourself and leave the room before you can make yourself sink further.

****************************************

That night, you’re back for another long 12 hour shift. You hadn’t given this Arthur Morgan another thought from the second you left his room, but now that you’re standing outside of it, you realize the effects of the anesthesia will have completely worn off by now. You brace yourself, ready for him to not remember you at all.

When you open the door, he’s awake, though you can tell he’s still fairly doped up and could very easily fall back into a drug-induced slumber again. He doesn’t even seem to know you’re there until you’re standing next to him.

“Mr. Morgan,” you say softly to catch his attention. He looks up at you and smiles a bit.

“Who are you?”

“I’m Doctor (your last name).”

“You’re my doc?” he says, his voice soft. “Well, ain’t I the luckiest?”

You smile down at him. “Don’t be silly, Mr. Morgan, there are plenty of doctors here that are just as good as me. Some are probably even better.”

“Bet none of ‘em are as pretty as you though.”

This stops you. It wasn’t like the last time when he called you pretty. He’s much more conscious this time, though still doped up. “Like I said, don’t be silly, Mr. Morgan. Now while you’re awake, I want to ask you a few questions.”

You go through the usual questions for someone in his state, making sure he doesn’t have a brain injury, how much of the incident he can recall, and of course if he’s in any pain or experiencing any numbness. Again, he’s lucky, he can recall most of what happened and his pain is manageable.

Just as you’re making your last notes, he catches your attention. “Am I gonna get transferred somewhere else any time soon?”

“Not if we can help it, Mr. Morgan. We’re hoping you’ll be out of here tomorrow, then you’ll be taken to post-surgery. Once you’re deemed well enough to go home, you’ll be released.”

He smiles again. “Good. Will you be down there with me?”

His question takes you by surprise. Of course you’ve had patients get attached to you, but they’re usually the ones that stay here for longer periods of time.

“N-no, Mr. Morgan. I’m an ICU doc, I don’t do anything with surgery.”

His smile fades a bit. “But you will come see me, won’t ya?”

You can’t resist the look of hope in his face. “I will do my best, Mr. Morgan.”

*************************************

Arthur stays in your section of the hospital for the remainder of the night, but in the morning he’s well enough to be transferred to post-surgery. You aren’t there when he’s rotated, so when you check the room that night to find it empty, you feel a bit bummed. You go to your office and look up his record to find where he’s been moved. Room 102 in post surgery and he’s scheduled to be released in the morning as long as his new doctor determines the amount of pain he’s in.

You decide to go visit Arthur in his new room to see how he’s doing. You rarely do this for your patients, except for those you take an academic interest in (such as a few years ago when a teenage girl got ejected from a vehicle and lived). You’ve never done it because of a personal interest though.

After making your rounds, you make your way to the post surgery unit. You greet some of the doctors you pass by, some of them you know. Finally you find room 102. You knock on the door and open it, wondering if he’s asleep. His TV’s on, playing some silly late night adult cartoon, but his eyes are closed. You can tell by his expression he’s not asleep.

You approach his bed slowly and he opens his eyes, a smile immediately stretching across his face. “Hey doc. I’m real glad you came to see me.”

“Hello, Mr. Morgan. Just wanted to make sure you’re adjusting fine,” you lie.

“Oh I’m peachy.”

“You glad to be going home tomorrow? I’m sure they explained the process to you of dealing with your broken arm.”

“They did, yes. But I ain’t too sure about how I’m gonna get home. Call an Uber I guess.”

“You don’t have someone to pick you up and take you home?” you ask.

“Nah. I’ve lived alone on my ranch for some time now. Used to live with my adopted father, uncle and brother but… father died, uncle went crazy and ran off, my brother did too. Ended up in a big mess and I was left with the ranch they owned. I ain’t got no one. ‘Cept Copper my dog. Ya can call him but he don’t answer his cell hardly ever.”

You laugh, despite yourself. “Bet he would if he could, Mr. Morgan. And I’m real sorry about your predicament. Don’t you have a girlfriend or… someone special who you could depend on?”

Okay, now you’re treading in dangerous waters. Asking him questions to scope out if he’s available or not. What is wrong with you?

“Nah, I was engaged a few years ago but… it didn’t end well. Her daddy didn’t like me and to be honest I ain’t too sure why I ever loved her. She used me a lot. Ain’t had no one since.”

“I almost find that hard to believe, good looking man like yourself.’

Seriously, what is wrong with you? It’s time to stop. You should never have come down here. Just because he called you pretty a couple times when he was doped to hell doesn’t mean he was interested in you. For all you know, he’s just a friendly guy when he’s drugged up. Some patients are like that. You once had a woman younger than you try to adopt you and the rest of your staff when she came out of having surgery and got tossed to your department.

“Nah, most women don’t seem interested in me. ‘Sides, I ain’t what I’d call good looking,” he says.

“Hmm, well maybe you need to look at yourself from someone else’s perspective, Mr. Morgan.” Okay, you’re really pushing your personal envelope here. It’s time to leave before you step into dangerous waters. Close the curtains on this before you get into something you’ll regret. “Well, I’m glad you’re doing better, Mr. Morgan. I’m real sorry for your predicament, but it could certainly be worse.”

You close his chart and begin turning to leave, making yourself silently promise to never make it a point to see him again. Just as you’re about to grab the door handle, he calls to you.

“You, uh, you ain’t single, I’m guessin’,” he says.

“W-why?” you ask.

“Well,” he’s blushing now. “Was thinkin’ I’d really like to get to know ya. Not when I’m stuck in a hospital bed with God knows what bein’ pumped into me so I don’t feel nothin’. Proper, I wanna get to know ya proper. Take ya to dinner maybe.” He rubs the back of his neck with his good hand. “Course if you’re with someone, I don’t wanna get in the way of that.”

You sigh and turn to face him. “I’m not with anyone, Mr. Morgan. Trust me, though. You don’t wanna date me. I’m… I’m a workaholic. Most of my time is spent here and when I am at home I’m doing paperwork.”

“Well it’s nice to know you’re so dedicated to your career but that don’t tell me a damn thing about ya.”

You shuffle your feet and look away. “You’re better off not knowing me, Mr. Morgan. Most people get to know me don’t like me. Not like that anyways.”

“Can I be my own judge on that?” he asks. “Please, doc, I’d love to take ya to dinner. Humor me just once?”

You sigh. “Okay.”

**********************************

A few weeks have gone by and you haven’t heard a peep from Arthur, despite having exchanged cell numbers with him. Not that you’re surprised. Once he weaned himself off the major painkillers, he probably came to his senses. You try to pretend to yourself that you’re not bummed about it and drown yourself in work. It’s hard to convince yourself that you weren’t excited though. You haven’t been on a date in years.

Just as you’ve finally begun to forget the whole thing, your cell phone goes off on one of the few nights you have to yourself. You pick it up and read the text. “Sorry I haven’t spoken to you since I was released. Been trying to put my life back together. Dinner still? -Arthur.”

So he hasn’t forgotten you. Your stomach tightens. Do you really want to go through with this? Part of you wants to lie and say you’ve gotten into a relationship with someone else. “Come on, Y/N,” another voice says. “You didn’t get to becoming a doctor through squeezing out of uncomfortable situations. If it ends up awkward, just get some bread rolls, hightail it out of there and block his number.”

It’s been ages since you did something for yourself on a personal level though. Sure, you’ve done a lot of things you didn’t like in order to advance in your education and your career, but not on a personal level.

It’s been ten minutes since you got his text and you’ve been arguing with yourself on whether or not to take him up. Finally you pick up your phone and type “I’d love that.”

A few moments go by and he responds back, asking where you’d like to go.

*******************************************

Three days later, you’re standing outside your favorite restaurant, an Indian place, waiting for him to arrive. You’re still scared of what might happen tonight, but you’re betting nothing good will happen. You doubt he’ll attack you or anything, most likely he’ll just figure out he really doesn’t like you and then never speak to you again. Hell, he might already be ghosting you. Whatever, if he is, no skin off your nose. You’ll just order out from this place and take it home to watch your favorite movie.

It’s fifteen minutes past when he said he’d be here, but still nothing. You sigh and start turning to walk in when you hear the engine of a truck pull into the driveway. Turning around, you see a gray Dodge Ram pulling into a space. A moment later, Arthur gets out of it. He beams when he sees you, his arm still in a cast and walking with a slight limp.

“Sorry I’m late. Traffic jam held me up.” He grabs the door and holds it open for you.

“Oh, th-thanks,” you say.

Over dinner, Arthur asks you a ton of questions about yourself. You’ve never opened up so much to anyone, but he seems so genuine in his responses and so enthusiastic about getting to know you, you can’t help it. You end up staying at the restaurant for two hours.

He reveals a lot about himself as well, what his life is like now and how it used to be before his family fell apart. You can’t help but think you couldn’t find a more loyal, hard working man than him. By the end of the two hours, you can’t help but wonder if you’re feeling something for him.

You finally leave the restaurant, but more for the sake of the waiting staff than anything else. Arthur walks you over to your car. When you get there, he stops you. “Y/N, thanks for lettin’ me take ya to dinner.”

Oh no, he’s going to follow up with this by telling you he isn’t interested in going further. You mentally prepare yourself to block this in order to protect yourself.

“I’d love to go out with ya again, if you’d like. Ya seem like a wonderful person.”

“Huh?” you say out loud.

“I, uh, I said-”

“No I know what you said,” you respond, your face burning. You hadn’t meant to voice your confusion. “I meant… why in the hell would you want to go out with me? Honestly you’re a trooper for doing it once. You must be insane for wanting a second go.”

He cocks his head to the side slightly. “You really don’t like yourself much, do you?”

His question causes you to blush even more. You look down at your feet, not sure what to say. “I guess not. That’s why I became a doctor. I didn’t do it because I wanted to help people. Just… guess I wanted to boost my own ego.”

He sighs heavily. “Y/N, can I try somethin’ with ya? If you don’t like it, I’ll stop.”

“What is it?” you ask quietly, on the verge of tearing up.

He extends his good arm, holding it out to you. You realize what he’s offering to do. You can’t remember the last time anyone hugged you, or even touched you in any kind of affection. He slowly approaches and you feel yourself tensing up. His arm gently wraps around you, his hand gently touching your mid back. He slowly pulls you to him until you have to settle against his chest. You find yourself leaning into him though. God, he’s warm and he’s firm. He smells good too. You’d been worried he wanted to hug you in order to gain some kind of grounds for sex, but this feels different. Platonic, almost. His arm grips you tight and you rest against him. A vortex of emotions goes through you. Confusion, fear, yearning, but most of all, gratitude. You know exactly what effects physical touch can do to a person, the chemicals it releases. How humans are wired to thrive better both physically and mentally through touch. Yet you’ve received so little of it, it feels almost alien to you.

As he continues to hold you, you suddenly find yourself crying into his blue plaid shirt. You don’t know why, either. As the first few tears fall, you feel something inside yourself breaking like a dam and you’re sobbing. He pulls away, looking down at you, a worried expression on his face.

“Oh God, I’m so sorry, Y/N, I didn’t mean to make you upset. You shoulda said you didn’t like-”

“No it’s not you, I’m the one who should be apologizing,” you sniffle, rubbing your cheeks dry. “I don’t know why I’m crying, Arthur. All I know is… you’ve shown me more kindness tonight than I’ve experienced throughout the last five years.”

“Jesus, Y/N, I done hardly nothin’.” He looks down, the expression of worry changing to sorrow. He extends his arm again to you and you happily go into it, resting against his warm, strong body.

**************************************

You’ve been on multiple dates with Arthur at this point. During every single one of them, he’s made it a point to hold you close to him. He knows now just how touch-depraved and starved you are. He’s the same way, he’s admitted, so he enjoys the opportunities too. Your last date had been nothing but you both curling up on your couch wrapped in each other’s embrace as you watched a movie. You ended up falling asleep in his arm, but he didn’t move at all. He just loved the sensation of having someone he loved trust him enough to do so.

Your first kiss had been sweet. It had been sunset and Arthur insisted on taking a walk in a park not too far from your house. He’d held your hand the entire time, but halfway through your walk, he’d stopped you and pulled you into a kiss. He didn’t push things further with you than that, but since then you’ve kissed him every time you’ve seen him. Even those times you’ve only seen him for five minutes.

You’ve started to really fall hard for him. You’re starting to think you want to sleep with him. How could you not, after all? He’s handsome, tall, broad, but more than that, he’s sweet, thoughtful, and compassionate. However, it will be hard for you to make love to him with his cast still on. Even when it comes off, he’ll need physical therapy. But you might be able to make things work.

That night when he comes over, you greet him with a home cooked dinner (a rare occurrence for you). He greets you with a sweet, soft kiss. After dinner, you take his hand.

“I have a surprise for you,” you say, trembling lightly. You haven’t slept with anyone since college, and those people you felt no affections for. You’d slept with them to blow off steam to handle the stress of school. Arthur’s different. You want to have sex with him to show him how much you love him.

“Oh?” Arthur says, curious. You lead him to your bedroom. He’s well acquainted with it. One night you’d gotten pretty sick from some bad food. When you told him your predicament, he’d come over and slept in your bed, holding you all night. He’s spent several nights in your bed since, but he’s never tried pulling a move.

When you get to your room, you guide him to sit down on your bed. When he’s positioned, you slip off your shirt and then your bra. You can hear his breathing pick up and his eyes go down to your tits.

“Ya… ya sure?” he asks.

You bite your lip, smile and nod. “Yes, Arthur. I’m ready.” You slide into his lap, straddling him and gently push him to lay on his back. He does so, letting you take complete control. You undress him slowly, being aware of his injured arm. He’s so goddamn attractive, you can’t help but admire the hair on his chest, his firm arms, his treasure trial, beyond that. You already know he’s going to put all your past sexual encounters to shame.

“Let me take a refresher course in anatomy, Mr. Morgan. You obviously don’t mind being my subject,” you say. God, you couldn’t make this sound more like a bad porno if you tried. Oh well, he seems excited. You mentally roll your eyes at yourself and go to work.

***************************************

In the morning, you wake up still naked, lying with your head on Arthur’s chest. His heart drums in your ears. His hand starts brushing through your hair, he knows you’re awake. You look up at him and smile.

“I never asked if you liked my surprise,” you say.

He grins. “More than you know.” He leans up and kisses you sweetly. “When this arm’s better, I’ll make sure to really give you a good time, darlin’.”

You groan into his mouth. He’d done some pretty amazing things to you last night you definitely won’t forget for a long time, if ever. “I can’t wait.”

#rdr2 fanfic #red dead fanfic #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x female #awkward asks

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my-whumpy-little-heart · 4 years

Text

Persistence - 1

Hey all! This is the start of a series featuring some pirate characters I played around with back during Whumptober, but with a lot more personality and a lot more plot. It got a little long so I put a cut, but I hope you guys enjoy it.

Series Masterlist

Content warnings: sword fighting, creepy/intimate whumper, and threats of death.

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A shrill whistle took the crew of The Thief’s Halyard by surprise, everyone on deck pausing their work to stare up at the crow’s nest.

“Ship on the horizon! It may be pursuing us. Be prepared for any further instruction!” the lookout shouted, eliciting a chorus of groans. They were already wilting under the harsh sunlight and scorching heat of summer. Imminent danger would just be the cherry drowning in their melted sundae.

One man in particular, though, smiled through the announcement, seemingly taking delight in the possible threat approaching. He turned to everyone else as they slumped and sulked, puffing out his chest in a dramatic display of confidence.

“Come on, everyone! No use grumbling and groaning; this is exciting! When’s the last time we even caught wind of other human life?” His bravado was almost painful to hear.

“It’s only been about two weeks, captain.” a younger man noted with clear confusion. He got a few knowing stares from the others around him. That was one way to indicate he was new around there in case anybody missed the memo.

“Exactly! So long!” he insisted, “And calling me Ray is fine, I promise. No need for fancy titles.” Ray clapped him on the back just a little too forcefully, pushing a nervous laugh and nod from him. As the newer crew member walked unsteadily back to his post and Ray climbed to the next level of the deck where he’d been working earlier, the quartermaster came up beside him.

“Hey,” she laid a hand on his shoulder, speaking softly, “cool it on the positivity campaign, would you? I love the attitude, don’t get me wrong, but nobody’s buying it right now.”

“What else am I supposed to do, Mabel? You know as well as I do it’s not easy to keep spirits up when we’re all on the brink of passing out,” he sighed.

“Tear out the root of the problem then,” Mabel shrugged, crossing her arms. “Maybe rotate people out for breaks? It might make work harder, especially with that ship on our tail, but better to get them out of the sun than do nothing at all.”

“Ah, yeah... that sounds like our best bet, actually,” Ray nodded. “I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you some days,” he smiled sheepishly, running a hand through his hair.

“Most likely perish, sir,” Mabel remarked, earning a gentle shove from the captain as he strolled by, reaching back to take her hand and lead her up to the guardrail fencing off this higher portion of the deck. He raised their hands with a grandiose clearing of the throat.

“Alright, change of plans! I want the four of you,” he drew a circle in the air with his hand around a group standing off to the side, “to head into your quarters and get some rest. Everyone else will cover your positions, and every quarter hour we’ll rotate out four others, so on and so forth.”

Sighs of relief followed three of them in the door, but one redhead lingered behind, leaning his full weight against the cabin wall.

“Floyd!” Ray waved, climbing down the ladder to land next to him. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Thought I’d offer to stay and help if you need anyone. I can go a little longer, and someone else probably needs a break more than I do.” Ray eyed Floyd warily, looking him over for signs of exhaustion. He was a very slight man and it was a wonder he’d lasted even this long in the heat. A sheen of sweat coated his skin, and his light, mossy blue eyes looked a little unfocused, but... Floyd could handle himself. He’d have his turn in the rotation soon enough anyway.

“As long as you wish to, then.” He conceded. Ray observed the workers still at their posts, hollering over to a woman already stumbling over her own feet. “Clara!” Her head snapped up at the voice, sweaty hair plastered to her face. “Head inside and rest; Floyd can take your place for now.”

Relief washed over her and she thanked Ray hastily before making a beeline for the cabins. Floyd crossed the deck, picking up her work with no hesitation. For a while, things were more or less peaceful. Ray was about to signal for the rotation when another whistle and shout rang out from the lookout.

“That ship I saw...” she swallowed, voice fading out for a moment. “If I’m not mistaken, we’re currently being tailed by the Golden Felucca. And they’re gaining on us.”

“Oh...shit,” Ray muttered. That ship and its crew had done nothing but trouble them for nearly a year. Each subsequent encounter only wore Ray down further, and he shivered at the memory of the most recent one just a month earlier.

He stole a glance at Floyd, going strong like that attack had never happened. Like they hadn’t nearly lost him. Ray shuddered. Why him, of all people? The train of thought, though he’d had it so many times before, hurt too much to continue.

Ray took a few breaths to steady himself, wipe the sweat from his forehead, and pull his dark, curly hair back into a low knot. No use dwelling on it now. Not when everyone needed him.

Most who heard the announcement was already gearing up for conflict, and a tense feeling gripped the deck.

“You heard her,” Ray called out, half exasperated, half determined, “Prepare to engage; expect a fight. I’m gonna need three with me on cannons but don’t fire if they're close. We’re gonna need the ones on break to guard.”

He adjusted the sword belt around his waist and strode to the starboard side of the ship where the Golden Felucca was gaining on them far too quickly.

As he worked on readying the cannons, those who had been sent down just minutes before trudged up from below deck. Despite the smaller vessel it was named after, the large ship really was a sight to behold. Nervous chattering echoed across the deck, one person even making a remark about the opposing captain, how some called him the Serpent. Mabel overheard and shook her head.

“Oh my Gods, please don’t flatter him,” she said, unable to hold back a derisive snort of laughter. “Percival is just as human as the rest of us. The minute you buy into his fantasy is the minute we lose this battle. Got it?” A shaky nod answered, and the conversation was cut short by their pursuers’ ship pulling up close alongside their own. Their opposing sides were nearly mere meters away from touching. Far too close to even consider using cannons without endangering themselves as well.

The Golden Felucca floated a little higher on the water, giving the opposing pirates an immediate advantage. They stood with swords drawn, and it would have been a mirror image of The Thief’s Halyard had Percival been anywhere in sight. Of course they’d come to expect cowardice from the other captain after so long, but it was always unsettling to see a crew set loose without the support of their leader at the head.

For a quiet, peaceful, moment, the two opposing forces locked eyes.

Then one man leapt across the gap down to The Thief’s Halyard and the others followed all at once, flying into the fray of battle. Ray, Mabel, and a few others who’d given up on readying cannons surged up to meet them, swords clashing and shouts raising. Others fell back near the walls to guard precious resources and money.

Floyd watched on from the background, holding his own sword in a careful grip. He looked for weaknesses in the enemy, hoping to join in and assist instead of fighting alone, but one opponent broke through the wall of combatants and charged straight for him. On instinct, he fell back on the defensive.

Aggressive blows fell short as Floyd dodged them, landing in a loose fighting stance. He parried the swings that came next and lunged forward when his opponent relented, attempting to drive him back into the fray. Light footwork kept him balanced as they traded attacks, but the heavy strikes crashing down wore at his defense.

He tried to keep up the pace as his vision tunneled. A strike nicked his hand, another grazed his arm, and nobody else seemed to take notice of his struggle. Floyd needed to find a window of vulnerability soon and end this.

He stepped back to avoid a slash, almost tripping over himself in an effort to get away when he saw his opportunity. His opponent seemed distracted, eye caught on something behind Floyd, and he took his chance. The redhead surged forward with a shout and thrust out his sword arm.

The blade should’ve hit its mark, buried itself in their side, and sent his weakened foe to their knees. And it would have, had he not stopped inches short, momentum suddenly halted and thrown backward by a strong grip on his wrist. Floyd fell off balance, his instinctive cry crushed to silence when his body slammed full force against a wall, knocking the breath from his chest. His vision swam and his hands pushed weakly against the wood, but a firm pressure on his shoulder and sternum kept him pinned. Heaving breaths couldn’t quite fill his lungs. Belatedly, over the ringing in his ears, he realized someone was speaking to him.

“...breathe, dear. Come on... yes, that’s it. Now look at me. I said look at me…”

There was a man in front of him. There was a man with an eerily familiar voice and a sword pressed dangerously close to his heart that took the breath from him all over again. The tanned hand holding his shoulder released and lifted his chin in a gentle grip. A reminder as Floyd finally registered the command. His eyes raised slowly to meet the man’s and he was pinned to the spot.

Amber eyes burned even in the shadows, a stunning, terrifying, captivating window into the depths of Hell. A few loose strands of dark, sandy hair framed them.

Percival, his mind supplied through shock and fear. Of course. He’d seen the man at a distance before, heard his voice through the haze of a dream. In some way, meeting him was familiar.

The sword splitting skin on his chest snapped him back to reality.

“Please,” Floyd begged breathlessly in a voice so quiet he almost couldn’t hear himself, “p-please I, I can't, I'm not, I’m not ready to, to-”

“Oh, nobody ever is, are they?” The blade’s pressure let up, traced his shirt over to his right shoulder. His heart hammered as he looked helplessly back into Percival’s eyes. “Come on, don’t waste your words. If you think you can change my mind, then do so, and quickly.”

There wasn’t enough time to think before the molten lava behind his pupils hardened and a line of pain lanced down Floyd’s arm. He couldn’t speak past the airy keen rushing out of his chest, but the blade tainted with his blood moved back over and somehow he forced the sound to stop, his lungs to breathe, and his lips to speak.

“I’m- please, Percival-” Floyd choked out the name, his voice cracking miserably with repressed tears, cheeks burning with humiliation. He hated the words itching to spill, but he had nothing else to offer. “I’ll do anything, I promise. I can- I can be u-useful, whatever you need I can- I’ll- just please don’t kill me!”

The horrible heat of shame flashed through him and nearly sent him to his knees, but it made Percival pause. He looked Floyd up and down, inclining his head in what may have been a confidential nod.

Had he done it? Had he appeased Percival?

The air stilled around the two, and the battle still raging faded away into white noise.

He didn’t even see the fist fly through the air before it crashed into his jaw, knocking him to the ground as his vision faded to black. The other man may have said something, then, but he could only hear the ringing in his ears before that left him, too.

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#whump #pirate whump #Benedict Floyd #Raymond Bates #Percival #battle #sword fight #pinned to a wall #grabbed by the chin #cuts #knocked out #fear #intimidation #Mabel Forbes #Persistence

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