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minsyal · 3 years

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The Fugitive: Finding Home, Pt. 2

Karl Heisenberg x Reader

Warnings: strong language, Resident Evil-esque violence and descriptions of gore, and dark/sexual themes

Summary: A once-in-a-lifetime trip turned dark. You're quickly exposed to the sinister and mysterious world of a cursed village under the control of dark leaders. How long will you last and will you ever return home in one piece?

The Fugitive: Finding Home Masterlist

Part 1 - The Beginning

“Mother Miranda, I’ve been requesting new maids for at least six months to this day.”

“That’s because you keep eating your other ones.”

You were shaken awake.

“I think that my castle would be best suited for her.”

“Oh, so you can bleed ‘er dry? You think that would really be the best use of anyone’s time?” A familiar voice retorted.

“Good morning!” A shrill voice squeaked as what felt like wood kicked at your face. “She’s up! She’s up! She’s up!” It exclaimed excitedly with a bounce, the voice became softer as the skittering of feet scrambled away.

“Ah,” the unfamiliar smooth woman’s voice cooed as your eyes adjusted to your surroundings. There were what looked to be six figures in the room. Miranda stood before you, perched upon a stage-like area that once housed what you could only imagine was a priest or preacher. To the left sat a cloaked woman with a blob of white resting in her lap. Another woman, also adorned in a white garb, sat towering over the rest, the light constant trickle of smoke danced upward from her vintage cigarette holder. On your right sat a familiar face, the man from the village who had saved you only a few hours prior. You’d come to know him as Lord Heisenberg. He maintained the large woman’s gaze, but the look held no love or any remote sense of familial belonging. Instead, his eyes were set ablaze, even behind the shaded rims of his glasses. Lastly, a shorter creature with a large hunched back moved ungracefully around. Its long gangly arms accompanied by its deformed face only aided in the growing unease.

The dull ache of your shoulder only distracted you from the bindings of your wrists for a moment. Your attention was quickly drawn to the rough ropes that dug their thorny threads into the soft skin of your wrists. Everything ached, mentally and physically.

“I do think she would be best suited with me.” The tall woman repeated herself. “There’s no doubt Moreau wouldn’t be able to handle her, and likely not the rest of you either.”

The hunched creature whirled back, throwing a forlornly glare in the woman’s direction. You supposed that was Moreau.

“You think I couldn’t handle her?” Heisenberg shot back, bent forward to rest his weight on his heels. His relationship with the large woman was clearly tumultuous given his outburst and her subsequent reaction.

“You always get them.” The shrill voice called. It was the doll; the fucking doll was talking... not that this should surprise you at this point. “She should come with us! We need more friends.”

“You’re not included in this conversation.” The tall woman mocked with a fierce glare shot violently at the doll as its mouth hung slack.

“Can someone please tell me what the hell is going on?” Thus far, nobody had managed to answer your simple question. The lot turned toward you, the majority with piercing stares. “Guess not.” You muttered, becoming quite fed up with the range of emotions you had been experiencing over the past day. If it kept going in this direction, you’d surely have to be treated for whiplash.

“She’s already proven to be a considerable pain in my neck.” Miranda loudly projected. Her steps were a clear juxtaposition to her tone, falling light on the church floor as she approached. “One villager is unable to walk, another dead.”

“Dead?” The words fell before you could stop yourself. She didn’t answer.

“Please,” Heisenberg leaned back once more, his hand moving to the interior of his jacket, “the dumb thing practically laid down when she was attacked by a lycan.” His fingers fumbled around the darkened paper of a cigar. Yellow, blonde streaks flashed upon his face as the distinguishable clink of a metal lighter was flicked. “I wouldn’t call that too capable.”

“My friend pushed me.” You argued, once again mentally reeling for the outburst.

Heisenberg let out a huff of smoke, intentionally blowing it in the tall woman’s direction, “sounds like a piss poor friend.”

“Enough.” Miranda had taken to her spot at the front near the alter once more. “The girl shall go to Alcina.”

A wicked smile crossed the tall woman’s face. “Thank you, Mother Miranda. It is so good to have you back.”

“Where are you from?” One of the girls ushered you through the depths of the castle. She wore a simple gown with stitches at the bottom, holding together the frail fabric that looked to be decades old.

“America.”

The girl cocked her head to the side like a newborn. “I don’t know of that town.”

Upon arrival you were escorted down to what was described as the maids’ chambers. In a small stone room, you were assigned a cot, given a chest, and told to change into uniform. Your arm ached and spasmed as you lifted the lid of the trunk open. Somewhere between being shot by the villagers and being transported to Castle Dimitrescu, the bullet was removed from your shoulder and replaced with gauze that limited the mobility of your arm. The distinct oily feeling of grease caused friction between the bandages and your clothes; the ache of alcohol still stung, causing a sore numbness.

The Lady insisted all maids conform to the strict code of dress. Long, unflattering dresses, short heels, and sometimes a headscarf if hair wasn’t pulled tautly into a bun at the base of one’s neck were a few things to name the least. You always wore the headscarf, which was a thin piece of grey lace that attached at the peak of your hairline, cascading over your shoulders to land at waist-length.

The rest of the day passed slowly. You learned the ins and outs of the castle, became acquainted with the sparse staff that only consisted of women, and met Alcina’s daughters from a distance. The next two weeks passed the same way.

Wake up, clean the castle, serve Lady and her daughters, go to bed. That was your routine. Though, the sounds that seeped from the halls at night prompted unwavering curiosity. Heisenberg had mentioned the ill-fated maids that had the luxury of serving the Dimitrescu women back in that church. Nothing at this point had you doubting that was the case. But you assured yourself daily that you would not accept the castle’s fate; you would get out of here one way or another.

You had only been at the mercy of Lady Dimitrescu once to this day. A small spat broke out between maids and the arrival of the head of house had the women squealing lies of how you were the one to start it.

“She stole our rations!” The girl with the wide nose accused her chubby finger outstretched in your direction.

“I didn’t steal anything, you dirty fucking liar.”

“She did. We were squabbling over how she should be punished.” The other girl replied, tucking a shaking hand behind her back as she straightened her poor posture.

“A thief,” Alcina regarded you, “that’s a shame.” Knives skid across the thin skin of your forearm. “Another outburst like this and there will be harsher consequences.” Red stained her tongue as she ran the claw through her cherry-red lips.

As she sauntered down the hall and out of sight, you uncurled your arm from your chest, wincing at the large crimson stain it left on your dress.

“Fresh face.” The words ricocheted off the wall in front of you. Footsteps steadfastly approached from behind. He walked with an effortless swagger, legs slightly bowed with each lyrical step. You’d gone for the quiet route after the situation, finding that silence often pleased those that ruled over the castle. “Here I was thinkin’ it would take you a little longer to lose that fight.” He stepped closer; the unmissable smell of tobacco seeped from his lips. “Looks like I was wrong.”

Instead of words, you held his gaze through unimpressed eyes. Hues of yellows, greys, and greens met yours from beneath his rounded glasses. You could see more of him from here. A large scar ran from the right of his face to the left, the lifted skin healing over leaving memories of whatever had happened. In fact, the majority of his face was plagued with scars. One ran from the bottom of his lip down to his chin, disappearing beneath the stubble of his beard. You wondered if his disdain toward Alcina was founded by those wretched claws of hers. His hair was wirey with shades of brown and peppered grey streaking through the ends. Quite honestly, he was an attractive man.

“I’ve got a name, you know?”

“I don’t think I cared to ask.”

“Then I suppose you aren’t deserving of one either.”

“Well,” he tapped at your chest with a gloved finger, “I think you’ve got a little spunk left in you, sweetheart.”

“Call me Y/n.”

“No last name?” He deadpanned.

“L/n.”

He nodded, but you felt as though your words had passed through him like a ghost.

“Karl.” He gave a lazy bow, tilting the rim of his hat. “But I think you probably already knew that.”

“Gossip and information don’t come easily from the maids here. Sorry,” you pressed your lips together, “I didn’t know.”

Karl gave a shrug.

“Do you know what happened to my friend?” The thought had been playing on your mind for the past few weeks.

He raised an inquisitive brow and turned his head to peer out the shaded window. “The so-called friend that left you to become lycan chow?” A hearty tut left his chest. “I think she’s assimilated into the town.”

“Dumb bitch.” You breathed.

“There’s that spark.” He stood tall with an artificial sense of pride. It had been a long time since somebody in the village was willing to use such crude language in front of any of the Lords, let alone Miranda. It almost astonished him that they’d let you live after the killing of Adelina’s brother. The gun misfired; it wasn’t really your fault.

Another week of growing suspicions and two newly missing maids, you finally attempted to seek out the dungeons that everyone spoke of but warned to stray from. You had to know what was going on here.

“Lost?” Heisenberg’s voice appeared at your right side. His chin almost rested upon your shoulder; the stubble of his beard scratched at your neck. “This isn’t a place I’d get lost in if I were you. In fact, it’s not even a place you should be exploring.”

“Are you going to run to Alcina if I do?” You didn’t face him, why would you? The hallway was cramped, restricting of any sort of movement other than in the direction you were going.

“Me?” He leaned backward to stand at full height. Your body cursed silently, wishing nothing more than to have him close again. How he wasn’t hitting his head on the rafter just inches above floored you. “I hate that bitch. You do what you want, but I won’t bail you out when you get caught.”

“Good thing I don’t plan on being caught then.” You descended the metal ladder, only looking upward for a moment to catch a glimpse of Heisenberg leaning over the opening. An eerie smile was plastered on his lips, it was almost smug.

The dungeons were as you imagined. Cold water trickled down some of the walls, likely due to cracks in the castle’s foundation accompanied by the ever melting of the outside snow. It smelled of mothballs and garlic, something musty was clinging to the air. You noted a few turns here and there, attempting to memorize the path you had taken in case you needed to make a swift escape. What didn’t help was the skid of your maid’s clothes along the rigid floor.

Muffled cries put you further onto the edge. The narrow hall gave way to a large room filled with arched stonework. Metal bars shot from floor to ceiling, hinges creaked as the sound of hands banging against them filled your eardrums. You didn’t want to go further, scared of any repercussions should any of the jailed women recognize and rat you out.

Turning to head to the ladder, you collided with a chest. “Leaving so soon?” Heisenberg again.

“Shh!” You slapped at his chest with a closed fist, only realizing what you had done when the action was completed. He looked rightfully amused. Everything that you had learned of these “Lords” up to now told you to act less casually with him, to put on an air of respect at the very least. But there was something surprisingly human about him. Something that told you it was okay despite it potentially not being so. At this point, you were only prolonging the inevitable.

“What?” He started, swiftly being cut off by approaching footsteps. Firm hands grasped at your arms, pulling your face forward into his chest. “Open your mouth and I’ll feed you to whatever’s coming.” He said through his teeth, trapping your arms between your two bodies.

The room grew dim, the wall behind your back became close even though you had not moved at all. Heisenberg’s grip was strong on your forearms, causing you to inaudibly hiss as his thumb dug into the slash Alcina had left weeks prior. The footsteps were accompanied by the soft cries of a woman, gasping pleas of being let go falling silent on the ears of her assailant. A minute passed; the dungeon fell soundless.

“You can breathe now.” His lips lingered close to your ear, once again sending a rush of chills crawling down your skin. He knew what he was doing.

“I’ve been breathing.” You breathily retorted sounding as if you had just run a marathon.

“Whatever you say, doll.”

The wall behind you gave way, moving on its own. You turned; the materials that had been pressed to your back laid themselves on the ground. Heisenberg’s smile was unmissable. “Go ahead.” His voice was gravely, gruff, a slight melancholy dismay underlying. Heisenberg desired for you to implore what just happened, but you wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. You refused to see him as anything but normal, for if you did give in to the village’s mental games, you’d likely find yourself going mad. He was a man, you told yourself, nothing more.

“I thought you weren’t going to bail me out?”

“I wasn’t.” He tightened his grip on your arms. “But I figured it’d be a shame to lose such a pretty face so soon.”

“I, I’m sure you say that to all the girls here.” You couldn’t hold his gaze at this distance. Perhaps Adelina was right, you were rather frumpy and unexperienced.

A huff came as he exhaled, a thoughtful tug of his lips upward accompanied it. He didn’t answer, a reoccurring event with those who inhabited this town.

Heisenberg had been keeping his trips to and from the castle a secret. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure why he felt so inclined to bother with the outsider woman who appeared in the village one fateful evening. Perhaps he was growing bored of his daily routine with no results to show. Maybe he was enticed by the well of knowledge you held of the outside world. Maybe it was something else, something human. The Lord’s weren’t allowed to stray far from the village. The other three lived delightfully oblivious, completely okay with never exploring the unknown. Heisenberg, on the other hand, was not. Your friend, Jess as he recalled you calling her, was far from interesting to him. It didn’t take a genius to tell how low her I.Q. had to be. She conformed easily to the village and by all accounts had been down talking you to the others she met. She quickly fell into the same brainwashed daze of worship.

It had been another turbulent week of utter chaos around every corner. Nobody knew of your adventure into the depths of Castle Dimitrescu and you had no intentions of spreading any gossip among the maids. They all seemed to have it out for you anyway. You were the “outsider,” as one described it. It was so blatantly evident to them that you were not going to conform to their ways. And that disturbed them.

It wasn’t that you hadn’t your fair share of punishment to this point. In actuality, you had received a significantly greater amount of beratements and surface wounds from Alcina and her daughters. You thought to Heisenberg often, continually wondering how your life would differ had Miranda bestowed you upon him. He was irresistibly charming in his own twisted sense. Every word that escaped his mouth heavily contradicted his actions. You received a good number of swats to the hand stemming from woeful daydreaming of the man you hardly knew.

He could be dangerous, you’d tell yourself before slipping into yet another sequence of fervent and unrelenting thoughts stemming from the mysterious man. He was a Lord, one placed in a top position according to the village’s hierarchy. You just weren’t sure why.

There had been countless times the man had sauntered into the castle, “accidentally” run into you, and held brief conversation.

The other maids were assholes. Though you had concluded this swiftly upon entering the castle, their recent actions only solidified your feelings.

It had been only a day since Heisenberg’s last visit. He strolled into the castle, easing his way past the maids as they hurriedly passed by. They paid him no mind. The evening sun had begun to set in the sky. Lady Dimitrescu had gone out for the night, instructing her girls to hold down the castle while she was away. The three of them had descended into the dungeons, not to be seen again until morning. This left the halls free and roamable for the savvy Lord.

“That’s bullshit and you know it.” Your voice caught his attention. “Oh, shut the fuck up, Marybeth.”

Shrill voices argued back and forth behind the kitchen doors. The sound of muffled giggles fell on his ears; it was an unusual sound within the castle walls. The girls must be relaxed knowing they’re safe from punishment tonight. At least, that’s what they thought.

In a second, the hinges of the door burst off, sending the heavy frame crashing down to the tiled floor. Shrieks came quickly and died on their lips as soon as the girls realized who was there.

“Lord Heisenberg.” One woman bowed her head, concealing something within her hands as she placed them in her lap, clasped tightly together. “Lady Dimitrescu has left for the evening.”

“I know.” His brow raised at the scene set before him. You stood to the rear of the kitchen, clearly irate at something the woman who regarded him had done. Five other women were huddled with the one who spoke, following her lead and averting their gazes. No aroma of cuisine drifted from the empty cauldron, only the stale scent of curing meats clung to the air.

“What’s going on in here?” He looked directly at you from beneath the lid of his hat.

“We were cleaning the kitchen.” The maid spoke through shaking breaths.

After a pensive moment, he waved his hand. “You’re dismissed. Except,” he held his hand at your chest as you attempted to pass, “you.”

The girls stumbled over the door, making quick work of getting back to their quarters and away from the Lord. You listened as the audience of feet trampled away. None of the girls here knew how to walk in heels causing for a rather elephant-like clomping of shoes wherever they went.

“What really happened?”

“Do you care?”

“Not particularly, but color me curious.”

“Don’t get them in trouble.” You demanded through gritted teeth. “I don’t want to deal with the aftermath.”

He chortled. “You seem more afraid of them than you are of me.”

“You’ve not given me a reason to be scared.”

Your back pressed to the wall, a glass chalice fell, shattering against the floor. The lapels of his jacket and dog tags pushed to your chest were still cold from the frosted night air. “Do I need to give you a reason?”

“I just,” embarrassment rose in your cheeks, “would you stop doing this?” There was no budging the man. His strength far outweighed yours, easily acting as if your pushing against his chest was nothing but a soft breeze.

“Doing what?” A smirk grew on his lips. God, he loved this.

“This!” Your clenched fist banged on his chest, not rattling him in the slightest. Droplets of claret liquid ran from your palm to your elbow. “Dammit, Karl. Move.”

The use of his first name was new. A solid hand closed around your wrist, bringing it up to eye level. He tilted back, adjusting his vision. The raise of his brow signaled that he wanted you to open your hand. Complying, you cringed as the reddened skin screamed for relief.

“They did this?”

“It’s no different from the other injuries I’ve gotten here.”

“It’s deep.” He reached into the pocket of his trench coat. “Don’t let anyone know you’ve got this.” A silver tin slipped from his hand to yours, you pried at its ridges with your nail.

Heisenberg disappeared after that, taking off with a dramatic throw of the castle doors as he disappeared into the dense forest. He had given you a tin of salve and a bandage.

“Lady Dimitrescu has requested your presence.”

The Fugitive: Finding Home Part 3 - Foreign Thoughts

I'm so excited for where this fic is going...

Feedback is always appreciated

Tag list: (let me know if you want to be tagged)

@ambiguous-g @ren-ni @metaphorical-love-for-a-car @lgbtomatoes

#karl heisenberg #heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg x you #heisenberg #re8 #re8 heisenberg #Resident Evil Village #resident evil heisenberg #lord heisenberg #resident evil 8 #re8 imagines

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leia505 · 3 years

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The Sunrise and Your Sins | Tetsurou Kuroo x Reader (street racing AU)

This fic takes place in the same universe as “deciphered” by @hoeneymilktea! Here is the link to the car visuals and spotify playlist, as well as AO3 where the fic is also posted if you prefer to read on there.

Huge shoutout to @aikk00 for creating the fan art that inspired both this story and “deciphered”.

And another shoutout to @hoeneymilktea for pushing me to write this fic, if you’re here from deciphered I hope you enjoy this addition to the deciphered universe!

Pairing: Tetsurou Kuroo x Reader

Rating: Explicit, NSFW(later chapters)

Word Count: 10k

Tags: Street Racing, Alternate Universe - Car Racing, Inspired by Fanart, References to Drugs, Aged-Up Character(s), Original Character(s), Inspired by The Fast and the Furious, Inspired by Tokyo Drift, Alternate Universe - Yakuza, Mystery, Drama & Romance, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

Summary: Being a mob boss’s daughter had always been a dangerous life, but Tetsurou Kuroo—street racer and mob henchman—made it all seem easy. Although the mutual attraction between you two was undeniable, the darkness that encompassed your family took precedence over your love. Surrounded by lies and deception, you and Kuroo must work together to uncover the truth of your brother’s death and your father’s shady business.

“Hey there kitten.”

“Is that really how you want to talk to a yakuza boss’ daughter?”

“It’s not like your old man’s here to listen.” Kuroo says, pulling up a chair to sit close to you. You turned your head to stare him in the eyes as he smirked at you.

“You think a man like my father doesn’t have his own office wired?” You ask, raising an eyebrow at him.

Kuroo chuckles nervously, looking around your dad’s office. Just some harmless flirting boss. Nothing to worry about here.” He says loudly, turning to you with a wink. You can’t help but smile, you’ve always enjoyed the times Kuroo came to see your father. You weren’t going to try to deny the fact you found him attractive, but there’s no way your father would allow it. A mafia princess and a drug smuggler? What a cliché.

Your father’s sudden entrance startles you both, and Kuroo instinctively stands up to bow. You remain seated, knowing that the power he held over this city applied to everyone but you.

“Hello father.” You greet your dad as he sits in his office chair at the front of the room. He definitely has a demanding presence, which is to be expected from the man who has the Tokyo underground in his pocket. Kuroo had power, and definitely had some authority, but he was a guppy compared to your father.

“Sit, Tetsurou.” Your father says, motioning for Kuroo to take a seat. He quickly sits down in his chair, attentively looking at the mafia boss for further instructions.

“So, as you could probably guess, I have another job for you.” He says, pulling a file out from the locked cabinet of his desk. He laid the file open in front of him and turned to Kuroo. “There will be a shipping container coming in this Friday from Cuba. I’m going to need a team of your best racers to get it from point A, the ports, to point B, headquarters.” He explains, motioning for Kuroo to stand next to him to look over the details.

“Seems easy enough, standard job.” Kuroo says, studying the papers in front of him. At this moment, you can’t help but wonder to yourself why exactly you’re there.

“Exactly. Nothing new, just the same old.” Your dad agrees. “However, this is a bigger job. And we do have some eyes watching us nowadays. So what I need from you is to take the lead and choose your team. Approved by me, of course.” He says, motioning for Kuroo to take his seat again.

“How many people are we talking?” Kuroo asks.

“You, maybe two others. And your colleague, Snake Eyes, taking the lead on logistics.” Your father explains, leaning back in his chair. “Snake Eyes will be essential to this one, we need eyes and ears on the route. The less run-ins with the authorities, the better.”

‘Snake Eyes.’ You thought to yourself. ‘Isn’t that Kenma? The nerdy looking mechanic?’

“I’ll let Kozume know.” Kuroo says, nodding. “I think Oikawa and Shinsuke would be a good fit for this one. Fast, experienced, trustworthy.”

“Oikawa…he’s the one that calls himself Cypher correct?” You father questions.

“Yes sir, head of Seijoh Brawlers. Shinsuke goes by Sly Fox, head of Inarizaki Bois.”

Your dad let out a hearty chuckle, startling both of you. “You kids and your code names. You would think you’re playing spy.” Kuroo nervously chuckled in agreement.

“No playing here sir, we’re all in.” Kuroo says, giving him a confident grin.

“That’s what I like to hear, Tetsurou. With that attitude, you’ll fit right in at the grown-up table.” Your father says, getting up from his chair. You roll your eyes, bored of the conversation between the two criminals.

“Why am I here?” You ask, causing both of them to turn to you as if they just realized you were there. You rarely sat in on your father’s meetings, so you were confused from the start as to what your purpose was.

“Oh sweetheart! I almost forgot, Kuroo has a present for you.” Your father says brightly, waving his arms at you, motioning for you to follow Kuroo out the door.

You peered your eyes at Kuroo suspiciously as he smirked at you. You continued to follow him out the door of your family’s Tokyo home, with your father following behind you.

As the three of you exit the house, your eyes fall on a bright pink car, with a giant white ribbon tied around the hood.

“Is that-“You begin saying, quickening your pace to get closer to this absolute beauty.

“A Honda S2000? Yes, yes, it is.” Kuroo says, leaning against his car, a cherry red Nissan Veilside 350Z. He holds up a pair of car keys, which he tosses to you.

“It’s mine?!” You exclaim. You turn to your dad, who smiles warmly at you.

“A gift, from the Nekoma crew to our family. Me and your mother have enough cars, so I figured you could claim this one.” He explains, chuckling.

“Thank you!” You wrap your arms around him, embracing your father in a hug. He tightly hugs you back, the same way he always has. You turn towards Kuroo. “And thank you, you and the whole Nekoma crew. How’d you know I wanted pink?”

Kuroo shrugs. “I just guessed. Seemed like your color.” He says, winking at you. He slyly opens his car door, climbing in. “Thursday night, I’ll bring the team?” He asks, turning towards your dad.

“Yes, and make sure they bring their cars as well. I need to see for myself what type of speed we’re working with.” Your dad says, switching into business mode seamlessly.

Kuroo lets out a laugh, closing his car door and rolling his window down. “I can promise you sir, the one thing we will surely not be lacking is speed.” He says, revving his engine, speeding out of the driveway and down the dark street. The roar of his engine could be heard long after he disappeared from our sight, breaking the silence of the upper-class neighborhood he sped through.

“Sweetheart, Tetsurou and his boys are here if you’d like to sit in on the meeting.” Your father says, peeking his head into your room.

“I’ll be right down dad.” You reply, getting up from your bed. You heard their cars coming from miles away, so you were already prepared to meet them downstairs. You were curious as to why your father suddenly invited you to sit in on his business meetings, he never really allowed you to take part in your family’s activities. Nevertheless, you were glad you finally had something to keep you entertained while locked away in your home.

As you walked down the stairs, you heard Kuroo’s voice speaking to his friends, and you were caught off guard by how mature he sounded. He must have known you and your father were coming down the stairs, so he put his big boy voice on to impress your father.

“Hi.” you say shortly, causing all of them to turn their heads to you. You finally got a good look at all of them, and they were all exactly what you’d expect street racers to look like. Piercings, tattoos, just a bunch of tough looking guys with skeptical faces as they looked up at you.

“Is this the one you keep bringing up?” a guy with shoulder length bleached blonde hair asks, turning to Kuroo. His voice was soft, almost a whisper. It was a drastic change from Kuroo’s deep, commanding voice.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Kuroo says, awkwardly clearing his throat, tugging at his collar as he avoided your gaze.

“Hola mami.” The brunette one says to you, shooting you a devilish smirk as you descend further down the stairs.

“The fuck is wrong with this one?” You ask Kuroo, opting to stand next to him. You tilt your head towards the brunette guy, who was still staring at you like a luxury car.

“He lived in Argentina for a few years and now he’s just...like that.” Kuroo says. “You kind of get used to it. He also doesn’t care that no one but him knows Spanish.”

“Tetsurou! Glad you all made it here in one piece. Shall we move this to my office?” Your father says, waving his arm down the hall to the large double doors that lead to his office, the space where all meetings, illegal or otherwise, were held.

The five of you made room for your father to lead and followed him down the hall. You were keenly aware of the fact Kuroo stood almost directly behind you, mainly because the smell of his cologne was too strong to ignore. Kuroo was just like that, a presence you couldn’t seem to get out of your head.

Upon entering the office, you choose to take your usual spot on the comfortable sofa chair you put in your dad’s office over a decade ago. When you were younger, more naive to the truth to your father’s business and your family’s wealth, you frequently accompanied your father in his office on long work nights, falling asleep in the chair that was kept out of the way to keep others from taking your special spot. That’s always how your dad was, making sure to accommodate you. Anything for the princess.

“So!” Your father announces, clapping his hands together, causing you and the blonde one to jump slightly. “Don’t be shy, introduce yourselves.” You roll your eyes at him, thinking that he sounded more like a grade school teacher than a yakuza boss with hundreds of skeletons in the closet.

The 4 men stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, not knowing how to start. Everyone except the silver haired guy wore a bomber jacket, with names printed on the back. The brunette wearing a white bomber jacket spoke first. You noticed the teal lettering on his jacket that read ‘CYPHER’.

“Tooru Oikawa, sir. Cypher.” He says, bowing at your dad.

“Uh, Kenma Kozume. People call me Snake Eyes sometimes.” the bleach blonde spoke next, his voice quiet and skeptical.

“Kita Shinsuke, aka Sly Fox.” The silver haired guy in the plain black hoodie says, giving your father a slight head nod.

“And obviously you know me.” Kuroo says. He turns to face you, flashing his signature grin. “Your turn.”

“(y/n).” you introduce yourself, giving them a small wave. “If you haven’t figured out who I am then you’re pretty slow.”

“My daughter, everyone. Excuse the attitude.” your father remarks, shaking his head at you. “So, I assume you filled them in on the details?”

“Yes sir, they’ve all been filled in on the job. Kenma running point on logistics, the control tower of the team. The three of us running the cargo from the ports to the warehouse. Basic rules, don’t be dumb, and don’t get caught.” Kuroo says. The other men looked at him, nodding slightly in agreement.

“Excellent, I knew I could count on you to take the lead here. Keep this up and you may find some more jobs like this in your future.” Your father gets up from his chair, pulling more files from his cabinet. He hands each of the men their own file, which they all take and begin looking over. “You’ll find all the smaller details in there, as well as numbers to contact in case you run into trouble. You’ll also find a receipt, with your pay for this job highlighted. I hope you find it accommodating to your work.” He says, studying each of them as they flip through the files.

“Definitely accommodating.” Kita comments, nodding his head as he peers down at the file. You begin to wonder when you’ll be able to see the fine tuned details, to truly see everything your father does in a day. So much of who he is still remained a mystery to you, and perhaps you found some comfort in your own ignorance.

“Thank you sir, our teams greatly appreciate your contributions.” Kuroo says, bowing once again to your father.

“It’s really no problem, after all, who doesn’t like a good street race.” Your father says with a smile. “And, in a way, I feel as though keeping your teams afloat helps me remember my son.”

“You have a son?” Oikawa asks, looking up.

“Had a son, yes.” Your father replied sadly. You winced, not expecting to have to relive these memories. “He passed in a racing accident. It was a few years ago. I think it was before your kids’ time.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, what was his name? Or, what team was he on?” Kenma asks.

“Keishin. He used the last name Ukai when he raced, to get away from our family name. I believe he raced for Karasuno?” Your dad says, bringing up more and more painful memories.

“Karasuno Killers? They’re getting back on the scene nowadays. I remember someone talking about how they stopped coming to races a while back, but they just recently started racing again because they have a whole new team.” Kuroo says.

“Really? Well, I might just have to come watch a race one of these days. For old times sake.”

‘Old times sake my ass.’ you thought to yourself, knowing the truth about your father and your deceased brother’s relationship. Your father hated racing, and resented your brother for choosing Karasuno over the Sakanoshita name. At the time of your brother’s death, you couldn’t help but wonder if your father was truly upset, or if he was putting on another facade, the same way he was now.

“Well, speaking of races, you wanted to see our cars, right?” Oikawa says, clearly trying to redirect this depressing conversation.

“Oh yes, of course! I want to see for myself what you’re all going to be working with tomorrow.” Your father says, walking out of his office towards the front of the home.

Outside, there were 3 cars parked in the driveway. You recognized the models, and you could guess which cars were Oikawa and Kita’s just from the colorways, white and black, just like their outfits.

“Mi amor.” Oikawa says, looking at his car. “Mazda RX-7 Veilside Fortune. ‘97.”

“He would marry his car if he could.” Kuroo comments, tilting his head towards you. You laugh, looking up at him.

“Nissan Silvia. 2002.” Kita says, walking up to his car and opening the door. The smell of smoke was strong, and he grabbed a pack of cigarettes from the middle console. “Mind if I smoke?” Your father nods, and Kita proceeds to light one and take a puff.

“Kenma, no car?” Your father asks, turning towards him. Kenma seems caught off guard by the sound of his own name.

“Uh, no sir, not tonight. I have cars, but I don’t drive all that often. I don’t see the point in risking my investments.” He says, shrugging his shoulders.

“Yeah, he’d rather be in the passenger seat with me driving and risking my car.” Kuroo says, playfully shoving Kenma’s shoulder.

“That reminds me, I have a proposal for you Kuroo.” Your father says, getting everyone's attention. “Would you be willing to let (y/n) ride with you on this job?”

“Excuse me?” You say, interrupting the conversation. “Why am I going? You never let me go anywhere, but suddenly I’m running drugs for you?” You raise an eyebrow at him and cross your arms across your chest.

“Well, sweetheart, I figured it was time.” Your father says, taking a step closer to stand in front of you. “I was around your age when your grandfather started allowing me to learn the ropes of our family’s business. You are the only one who can continue the Sakanoshita name. I think this is a good first job for you.”

“For the record, it's no problem. She can ride with me. I promise she’ll be safe.” Kuroo says, inserting himself into the conversation between you and your father.

“So, does this mean I finally have something to do? I can start leaving the house again?” You ask, hopeful that this decision from your father will mean more freedom. Things haven’t been the same since Keishin died, and your father kept you under a microscope, claiming it was for your safety.

“We can talk about new safety rules after this job. Deal?” He asks, holding his hand out for you to shake.

“Deal.” You say, taking his hand and shaking it firmly.

“Looks like the princess is growing up.” Kuroo comments, smirking at you.

“Hope we don’t scare her too much.” Kita says jokingly.

You scoffed at him, excitement growing inside of you as you realized this will be the start of you growing into a leadership position in the Sakanoshita family, becoming the face of this giant organization that ruled the Tokyo underground. “Nothing scares me.”

You stared at yourself in the mirror, trying to get your head together before the job. ‘What does a person bring to a drug smuggling? What does someone wear? Fucking jeans?’

‘No.’ you thought to yourself, grabbing a pair of leggings. What if you needed to run? Well then you need sneakers too. And a warm jacket, just in case. Do you bring a phone charger? Would it be weird to ask Kuroo to plug your phone in while you’re smuggling drugs together?

“What the fuck am I doing.” You say out loud to yourself, beginning to question your own sanity. You let out a deep sigh, trying to clear your head.

You eventually decide on leggings, sneakers, and a cross body fanny pack to hold your phone and smaller things. Before exiting your room, you hesitate.

You make your way to your bedside table, opening the drawer and reaching to the back, pulling out a small handgun. You take it out, along with a note that was tucked underneath it.

‘Stay safe. -Keishin’

This was a gift from your brother, before he passed. You kept it close by, both as protection and a heavy reminder. Your family name carried a lot of weight, which the both of you felt smothered by. You both understood the dark side of the luxury you lived with, saw the blood that stained your family’s money. But now, with him gone, it all fell on you. Everything depended on you.

You make the decision to take it along with you, holstering it to your thigh. ‘Better safe than sorry’, you thought to yourself. A regular night could turn deadly in an instant, something that you were very familiar with given the way your brother passed.

You exit your room and descend down the stairs, walking out the front door to where everyone was waiting with their cars. Oikawa was busy on his phone, and Kita was further away smoking a cigarette. Your father stood with Kuroo, most likely discussing the job.

“Where’s Kenma?” You question, walking up to stand with Kuroo and your dad.

“He’s back at the garage. Don’t worry, he has eyes and ears at us at all times.” Kuroo says, pointing at the earpiece he wore. “Here, one for you as well.” He hands you an ear piece, which you put in, immediately hearing the sounds of a video game, most likely from Kenma.

“Are you ready?” Your father asks, turning towards you. You nod in response, and he looks over you, stopping and furrowing his eyebrows when he sees your gun. “Is a gun really necessary?”

“Keishin would have wanted me to bring it. Better safe than sorry, like he used to say.” You say, knowing that bringing up your brother was the easiest way to get your father to comply with whatever it was that you were doing.

He nods, giving you a sad smile. “You’re right. He was always the cautious one.”

“The smart one too.” You say, smiling nostalgically. “Are we all ready to go?” You ask, turning to Kuroo.

“Yup, all set.” He replies, swinging the passenger car door open for you. “I’ll have Snake Eyes let you know when we reach the ports, and again at the warehouse.” He says, turning to your father.

“Perfect.” Your father says. He turns to look at you once more, then back at Kuroo. “Bring her back in one piece.” He says, holding out his hand.

“You can count on me, sir.” He says, giving your father a firm handshake. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, the business your family was involved in was always so masculine, so formal. It was something you would have to adjust to when you begin taking part in it.

Kuroo closed your car door and nodded to the other two racers, who immediately got into their cars, turning their engines one. He climbs into the driver’s seat of his car, turning the key in the ignition, the loud roar of the engine startling you. He chuckles, realizing he made you jump.

“Mic check. Roll call.” You hear Kenma say in your ear.

“Tap once to speak, twice to mute.” Kuroo says, pointing to the earpiece. He taps once, and speaks. “DK here, with Princess in the passenger seat.” He says, grinning at you.

“Ew, keep it PG-13 dude.” Kenma says, making you laugh.

“Cypher, ready to roll.” You hear Oikawa say.

“Sly fox.” Kita says shortly.

“And Snake Eyes. Ready when you guys are. All clear on the short route to the ports, I’ll let you know if that changes. Stay safe everyone.” Kenma says, muting himself.

“Alright, we all know the route, I’ll take the lead, Sly Fox you take rear. You already know the rules, don’t be stupid, and don’t get caught. I’ll check back in when we’re 5 away from the ports.” Kuroo says, taking the parking brake off and switching gears, the car beginning to move.

Everyone mutes themselves and begins driving off, away from your wealthy neighborhood and towards the city’s industrial district. The Tokyo skyline was in your rear view mirror, and your heart beat faster and faster as you went further away from your home, the place that you’ve been stuck in for years now.

“You don’t get out much do you?” Kuroo asks, breaking the silence.

“Not really, no. My father doesn’t allow me to go many places now, ever since my brother died. He says it’s too risky, which I think is bullshit.” You say, shrugging your shoulders.

Kuroo laughs. “I knew you weren’t just some obedient princess. Look at you, all rebellious.”

“I’d be more rebellious if I were able to do anything. This...is my first time out of the house in 6 months. The last time was just for the dentist.” You say, awkwardly laughing at yourself.

“Well, then we better make the most of it, right?” Kuroo says, switching gears, now going 105 km/h on the expressway.

“Kuroo what if we get pulled over?” You ask nervously, knowing the risks he was taking just to show off.

“Relax, (y/n), I know what I’m doing.” Kuroo says, flashing his signature grin at you. Everything about him drew you in, made you want to keep looking, to reach out and know him as more than just your father’s employee.

“Kuroo, stop showing off. Just because there’s a pretty girl in the car doesn’t mean that you get to be cocky.” Kenma says in your ear, catching you both off guard.

“Alright alright, take it easy Snake Eyes.” Kuroo says, tapping his ear piece once, then double tapping again to mute. He begins slowing the car down to 80 km/h.

You let out a small giggle, looking over at him. “You think I’m pretty?” You say in a mocking tone, leaning in closer to him.

“I think you’re beautiful.” He says in a serious tone, catching you completely off guard. You begin to slowly back away from him, retreating back into your seat.

“What?” You ask, not sure if you heard him right.

“You’re beautiful. I’ve always thought so. As a matter of fact, if it wasn’t for my extremely deep fear of your father, I’d want to take you out on a date.” He says, laughing.

You laugh as well, suddenly a little sad about what he said. “Yeah, that’s too bad. I would’ve said yes.” You say, turning your face to give him a sad smile.

He smirks at you, but his eyes drooped, giving them a sad, tired look. “Would’ve been a great first date.”

After that exchange, you both remained quiet, lost in thought of what could have been. Thinking of the undeniable chemistry that drew the two of you together, but also the forces at play that kept you from colliding. What could have been, if circumstances were different, if the two of you were different. Normal.

“Can I ask you something?” You ask him, breaking the silence that had fallen between the two of you.

“Of course.”

“What would you be, if you weren’t racing and working for my dad? Who would you be?” You were genuinely curious, because all you ever knew about Kuroo was that he was dealing before getting pulled into the Sakanoshita business, and that he raced with Nekoma.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” He says, a smile growing on his face.

“Try me.”

“Well, I would be a student. Right before I got recruited by your family, I was in college. Chemistry major.” He says, peering over at you.

“Chemistry?!” You ask, surprised by his answer. “You’re a science nerd?”

“I mean, I wouldn’t say a nerd.” He says, laughing at your reaction. “In my senior year, I ran out of money. So, I started dealing. It wasn’t anything serious, but I guess I was pretty good at it. I ended up on your dad’s radar, and he took me in as a transporter and dealer. And so, here I am. No degree, but hey, I have a nice car.”

“I’m sorry.” You say, almost out of instinct. It felt like the only right thing to say, even if it wasn’t something that was expected.

“Sorry for what? Your dad giving me a job?”

“You never got to graduate.” After saying this, it seems as though Kuroo realizes it as well, that he never got to finish school. “You were so close, but you got stuck with my family. I’m sorry you didn’t get to finish your schooling.” You say, meaning every word. You were sorry, and you couldn’t help the guilt you felt. After all, it was your family that pulled him into this world.

Kuroo stays silent for a few more moments, thinking over what you just said. He appears to snap out of it, switching back to his usual easy going, casual self. “Nothing to be sorry for, princess. Without your dad recruiting me, I would just be a broke bum with a lame car and no money to my name. Besides, I can go back and finish things up someday. But for right now, I’m exactly where I want to be.” He looks over at you and winks, making you laugh. “What about you? Where would the yakuza princess be if she wasn’t a mob boss in training?”

You paused, not knowing how to answer. “I actually don’t know. I’ve never really thought about it, because there really isn’t a future for me outside of the family business.” You say, unable to hide the disappointment in your voice.

Kuroo frowned, thinking of a response. “Well, hypothetically, what would you be doing? Let’s say, in an alternate universe, where we’re just normal people, living normal, legal lives. What would (y/n) be?”

“A teacher.” You say proudly, without hesitation. “Or a professor. Definitely education.”

“A teacher?!” Kuroo asks, laughing. “How do you go from yakuza boss to teacher?”

You laugh, realizing just how ridiculous it sounds. “What, you said normal! If I had a choice to be normal, I’d want to be a teacher, in a small town. I think I’d be a good teacher!” You say, defending your choice.

“Okay, okay. I guess I can see you as a teacher.” Kuroo says, still grinning from ear to ear. “But, the hot teacher. With a gang tattoo.” He says, referencing the giant koi fish tattoo you have on your shoulder.

“No!” you exclaimed, laughing loudly with him. “I want to be the generic teacher, with cardigans and sensible shoes and house cats to come home to. I’d grade papers and mentor kids, and just be free to be as boring as I want to be.”

“Y’know, maybe I can see it.” Kuroo says, smiling at you. You couldn’t ignore the butterflies in your stomach every time he gave you that smile, the kind of smile that made your day so much better by simply existing. “Maybe someday we can be boring together.”

The profound silence that followed that sentence spoke volumes to the both of you, almost as a silent prayer to the universe, begging for a chance to be boring together. However, that silence was broken by Kenma in your ear, bringing you both back to the reality you both began to dread.

“5 minutes out, turn your headlights off.”

“Going dark. Thanks Snake Eyes.” You hear Kita say. Kuroo flicks his lights off, leaving only the street lamps to light the way.

“What container should we be looking for?” Oikawa asks.

Kuroo replies, reading out a series of letters and numbers. “The boss gave me an idea of where to go, I think we’ll have to get out to look around though. Snake Eyes, you got eyes on the port? Any trouble?”

“Nope, all clear. Limited street lamps though, you may need a car for some light.”

“Got it. I’ll let you know when we find the container. Let us know if anything suspicious catches your eye.” Kuroo says, muting himself once again. As you enter the industrial port, Kuroo begins taking a series of turns, leading you deep into the maze of containers. The further you got, the number of street lamps began rapidly decreasing, and you became very familiar with the reason why it’s called shady business.

Kuroo flicked his lights on, and you kept an eye out for the shipping container, or at least one that was close to the number you were looking for.

“I think I got something.” You hear Kita say, flashing his lights behind you, to signal for everyone to stop. Kuroo turns around, putting his car in park and leaving the lights on, pointing at a shipping container with the exact identification numbers you were looking for.

“Nice work Sly Fox.” Kuroo says, patting him on the back. You stood close by the car as the three men approached the container, Kuroo pulling a key out of his pocket and unlocking the giant lock that secured the container.

As he swung open the door to the container, the scent was strong, but familiar. It smelled like…

“Tobacco?” You ask, walking closer to the container.

“Cuban cigars.” Kita says, laughing as he walked further into the container.

“Hey Snake Eyes, let the boss know we’re in the container. 30 bricks right?” Kuroo asks into his ear piece.

“I’ll let him know. And yes, 30 exactly. He left a note in the file that said you may have to look around a bit for the cargo. Also, Sly Fox, don’t take any cigars.” Kenma says, right as Kita was stuffing a handful of cigars into his pocket. Kita reluctantly returns them to the pile they were taken from.

“Got it, 30 pieces of cargo. We’ll make contact again once they’ve been located.” Kuroo says, tapping his ear piece twice. “Okay, 30 bricks. Let’s start from the back and make our way out, whenever you find one, take it straight out to my car. Princess, you’re the look out.”

“Why do I have to be the look out?” You protest.

“You can’t reach the top of the containers, chica.” Oikawa points out, putting his hand on one of the shipping boxes that towered over you. Kuroo snickered, walking up to you.

“Just stay outside, kitten. Let us know if there’s any big bad guys coming?” Kuroo says, putting his arm around you and walking you outside.

You rolled your eyes and shrugged his arm off. “Whatever, just hurry up, it’s freezing out here.”

You stand outside, staring out to the distant city lights, listening to the quiet waves that lapped against the side of the port. Kuroo came and went, bringing cigar boxes filled with cocaine out to his car.

After the 12th box, he noticed you were crouched down with your arms tucked into your jacket, the arms of your jacket swinging in the breeze. He laughs, walking up to you.

“Cold?” He asks, looking down at you.

“Maybe.” You answered through chattering teeth. You stand up, looking up at him. He towered over you, meaning you had to crane your neck in order to meet his gaze.

“Here.” He says, taking the red bomber jacket off his body and wrapping it around you, using it as an opportunity to pull you closer to him. “Your dad might slice my head off if you catch a cold.” He whispers into your ear, making you laugh.

“How’re we doing guys?” Kenma asks through the ear piece.

“A little under halfway done. Anything we should be worried about?” Kuroo says.

“Nope, still all clear. Just let me know when you’re done and heading out.” Kenma says, muting himself.

“Back to work.” Kuroo says, pulling you in tighter for a moment before letting you go. You stood there, warm under his jacket, wrapped up in the lingering scent of his cologne that remained. You wanted to freeze time, to live in this moment of calm, feeling protected just by the residual presence of Kuroo.

They continued on, carrying cigar boxes out of the container and into Kuroo’s trunk. Every once in a while you’d hear hushed conversations from inside the container, too quiet for you to hear.

“This is the last of it.” Oikawa says, walking out of the container with Kuroo. They each had 4 boxes in their hands, which they placed in the back of Kuroo’s car.

“Ready to go?” Kita says, popping up next to you out of nowhere, causing you to jump.

“Jesus, where did you even come from?” You ask, startled by his sudden appearance.

Kita smirks, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “They don’t call me sly fox for nothing.” He says, walking back to his car. Kuroo was busy closing up the container, securing it and making it appear as if we were never there. Oikawa was leaning over the trunk of Kuroo’s car, arranging the boxes of drugs underneath a spare blanket.

“Snake Eyes, you there?” Kuroo asks, walking back to the car.

“Yup, all ready to go?” Kenma responds.

“Ready when you are.” Kuroo says, walking over to your car door and holding it open for you. You climb in, ready to get out of the cold. Kuroo closes the door, and continues to talk to Kenma through his ear piece. You figured out that Kenma had made it so their communications wouldn’t be heard through your ear piece. You couldn’t make out exactly what they’re saying, but you assumed it’s some info about the drive to the warehouse.

You watch as Kuroo leans in to tell Oikawa something, which he nods in agreeance to before walking back to his car and getting in. Kuroo then walks around to his side of the car, turning it on and beginning to pull out of the dark alleyway of the port.

“Ready to roll, princess?” He asks, turning to flash you a grin.

“The faster the better.” You say jokingly. He laughs, revving his engine loudly.

“Careful what you wish for.” He says, speeding up as the three cars leave the port and enter the expressway.

“DK, stop showing off.” You hear Oikawa say through the ear piece.

Kuroo rolls his eyes, taking his foot off the gas to slow down. “Buzzkill.” He mutters under his breath.

You rode in silence together, heading towards the warehouse your father owns. The warehouse was a front, being used as storage for the goods your father exported in his legal business. For the illegal business, it was used as a storage and distribution center for the underground dealings.

“DK, we have a problem.” Kenma says.

“Talk to me Snake Eyes.”

“We’ve got some cops heading your way. The boss texted saying someone may have tipped them off to tonight’s job. Apparently the king of Tokyo has some enemies.”

“That’s one way to put it.” You mutter to yourself. Your father had more enemies than allies, meaning that there was a constant target on the backs of every member of the family. It’s no surprise that something went wrong tonight.

“Which way are they coming from?” Kuroo asks.

“West. I think they’re gonna intercept you soon. At least 2 cars, and I’m pretty sure they’re looking for you.”

“Shit.” Kuroo whispers to himself. “Cypher, Sly Fox, you there?”

“Heard it all, DK. What’s the next move?” Cypher asks.

“Sly Fox, take the lead. Take the back route, go straight to the warehouse, fast as you can. Cypher, take the rear behind Sly Fox, if you run into any trouble you’re the diversion. Got it?” Kuroo says, his voice taking on a new tone of authority.

“Roger that. When should we check in with you?” Sly Fox asks.

“I’ll make contact when we’re free. Just get in touch with Snake Eyes when the delivery is made.”

“And (y/n)?” Kita asks. Kuroo turned toward you with an expression of deep thought on his face.

“She’ll stay with me. We’ll be fine.” Kuroo says firmly, turning his eyes back to the road. You weren’t sure why, but you trusted him. Given the circumstances, you probably shouldn’t, but some part of you just impulsively put all your faith in him, trusting that being in his car was the best place for you to be.

You hear Oikawa chuckle. “Have fun princesa. I hope DK doesn’t scare you away.”

“Shut your mouth, amigo.” Kuroo says mockingly. “I’ll see you both later. Be safe.” He says, muting himself.

You look behind you to see Kita’s car already in front of Oikawa’s, and you see them both exit off of the expressway, their engines revving as they sped off, out of sight.

“Maybe I’m pointing out the obvious, but aren’t you the one with the delivery to make?” You say, growing worried by Kuroo’s plan.

“Don’t worry about it princess. Just trust me.” Kuroo says, revving his engine loudly, rapidly increasing speed.

“You have 20 bricks of cocaine in your trunk and you’re telling me not to worry?!” You exclaim, turning your body to face him.

“Or do I?” He asks, glancing over and smirking at you. This question caught you off guard, making you wonder if this guy was crazy or stupid, or both.

“On your left!” You hear Kenma say, moments before two police cars appeared behind you two, struggling to keep up with Kuroo’s speed.

You slumped back in your seat, trying to find it in yourself to trust Kuroo. The police sirens grew louder and the red and blue flashing lights started to draw closer, but somehow, Kuroo remained calm, not even bothering to increase speed.

Your heart raced as the police cars began getting closer and closer, nearly pulling up right beside you.

“Hey princess, ever wondered what DK stood for?” Kuroo asks calmly.

“Fucking Donkey Kong?!” You yell at him, having no patience for his games.

He laughed at your stressed demeanor, throwing his head back and shaking his head. “Nope. Not even close.” He switches gears, causing the car to slow down quickly and making the cops draw far ahead of you. He veers off to the side, seemingly to take the ramp that curved to exit the freeway. Suddenly, he speeds up yet again, turning his wheel suddenly as the car begins drifting on it’s side.

“Drift King.” He says with a smirk. The car drifted down the ramp, screeching as Kuroo pulled the emergency brake up and maneuvered the steering wheel to keep it steady. You were familiar with drifting, due to the fact your brother was involved in street racing before his death. You knew that it was something that only experienced drivers could do, and it took a certain level of skill and a lot of practice to perfect. You realized that this meant Kuroo was a skilled driver, far more skilled than you realized. No wonder they called him Drift King.

By the time the two of you reached the end of the ramp and began racing down the industrial district street, the cops just began heading down the ramp, trying their hardest to keep up.

The chase continued on for several blocks, Kuroo barely breaking a sweat. It seemed as though this wasn’t his first chase. After some time, Kenma’s voice comes through on the ear piece.

“Hey DK, you may want to end this chase. They’re calling for backup soon.”

“Got it, I’ll pull over now. Thanks Snake Eyes.” Kuroo replies, beginning to slow down.

“Pull over?!” You ask him.

“Just trust me! You think I’d put you in danger?” He asks you, grinning. The car comes to a stop, and the two police cars quickly pull over as well.

“Give me your ear piece.” Kuroo says quickly, the two police officers quickly approaching the car. You quickly hand it to him, which he shoves in the inside pocket of his jacket.

“Sir, please exit the car. You as well, ma’am.” The officer says, shining his light in Kuroo’s car. The two of you exit the car, standing in front of the headlights.

“Now, what in god’s name were you doing?” He asks, as the other officer begins searching the car.

“He was just being a show off.” You say, lying on the spot. Kuroo looks surprised by your sudden statement, but plays it off, acting natural.

“Yeah, sorry about that. Just trying to impress a pretty girl.” He says, putting his arm around you and kissing the side of your forehead. Although it was just an act, your stomach still did somersaults just with that one simple action.

“I see.” The officer says, shining the light at your gun. “You have a license to carry that ma’am?”

“Yes sir. Just a personal protection piece.” You say, pulling your driver’s license as well as gun registration out. You hand it to the officer, who looks it over.

“Sakanoshita?” He asks with fake surprise, looking up at you.

“Yes, my father. I’m sure you know him.” You say, knowing that the name Sakanoshita held a lot of clout in the city.

“We're familiar with him.” He says shortly, handing the papers back to you. “Anything?” He asks, turning towards the other officer who was peering into the car.

“Nothing. Mind popping the trunk?” He asks Kuroo. Your heart begins to race, knowing what they would find. Kuroo however, remained cool as a cucumber, sauntering over to the car to open the trunk. He walks back to you with a grin, standing behind you and draping his arms over your shoulders, pulling you closer to his body. You grab his hands, bracing yourself for the big reveal.

“Now what do we have here?” The officer says, ripping the blanket off of the boxes. You close your eyes, preparing yourself for the worst. The officers pause, opening one of the boxes.

“Cigars?” They ask. You open your eyes, looking up at Kuroo as he continues to grin at you.

“Yes sir, we were on our way back to her place, to deliver them to her dad. You know, the infamous Mr. Sakanoshita.” Kuroo lies with ease.

“They’re gifts, for some associates of his.” You say, joining in on the lie. “He’s hosting a little get together tomorrow. I believe your boss, the police chief, will be there. It’d be a shame if he heard you pulled over a Sakanoshita.” You knew exactly what you were doing, using your name for your own benefit.

“I see.” He says, closing the box of cigars and putting it back down. “Just some Cuban cigars I suppose.” He closes the trunk, walking to where you and Kuroo stood.

“And I suppose the speeding was because the old man is waiting on these cigars, huh?” The other officer says, standing next to his partner.

“Exactly.” Kuroo says. “Not exactly the best idea to get on the bad side of your girlfriend’s father, right?” He jokes, trying to lighten the mood.

Surprisingly, the cops laugh. “You got your work cut out for you kid. Sakanoshita is not an easy man to win over.”

“Yeah, his daughter isn’t any easier.” Kuroo says, pulling you closer. You laugh along, wishing for this interaction to end already.

“I’ll tell you what.” The officer says, taking a few steps closer to the two of you. The headlights from the car streaked behind him, casting a dark shadow over you and Kuroo. “You two can go ahead home, just make sure not to mention this to your dad. Or our boss. Sound good?”

“Perfect. Have a good night you two.” You say, hurriedly pulling Kuroo back to the car.

“Sorry for the trouble!” Kuroo calls out as the two men walk back to their patrol cars.

Once the two of you are back in the car, you breathe deeply, staring into space.

“You alright princess?” Kuroo asks, turning towards you.

You snap out of it, punching him in the arm. He jumps back in pain, looking shocked at your outburst.

“Cigars?!” You question him, unable to form a full sentence. He laughs, throwing his head back.

“Yes, cigars. I told you I didn’t have any drugs back there, didn’t I?” he says, grinning slyly at you.

“Then who the hell has the coke?” You ask sternly, adrenaline still pumping from that run in with the cops.

“Think about it.” Kuroo says, turning his whole body to face you. “Where do you think the drugs are?”

You thought about it, the entire night, all the interactions that occurred. Only one person stood out to you, which was-

“Sly Fox.” You say, realizing the stunt that they had just pulled off. “Kita. I never would have seen him take anything to his car, he’s too sneaky. I had my back turned to his car because it was up against a container, no one could have come from over there. That’s why you had him go straight to the warehouse. It’s all in Kita’s car.”

“Well look who figured it out. Good job princess.” Kuroo says, leaning back in his seat.

“But why take the cigars? And why not tell me the plan?” You question him, not satisfied with the answer you had come up with.

“In case of a situation exactly like this. Insurance, in case everything went wrong. An alibi.” He says peering over at you. “And, well, I wanted to test you. See if you could take the heat.”

“What do you mean?”

“I wanted to see how you’d handle yourself, with your back to the wall. I wanted to see if you trust me.” He says, with a small smile on his face.

“Didn’t really give me much of a choice but whatever.” You grumble quietly.

Kuroo laughs, looking over at you. “You did great, princess. You’ll be a mob boss in no time. I hope you’ll let me keep my job, though.”

You let out a tired scoff, exhausted by the adrenaline rush that had come and gone. “Just- please keep me in the loop about things like this. If you can do that then maybe you can keep working for me.”

“DK, everything good?” You hear Kenma say through the ear pieces that were still in Kuroo’s pocket. He dug them out, handing you one which you placed in your ear.

“Yup, crisis averted. Have you heard from Sly Fox and Cypher?” Kuroo asks.

“We’re right here boss. Delivery has been made, just waiting on your order.” You hear Kita say.

“Meet us back at the boss’s house, me and the princess have one last loose end to tie up and then we’ll head over.” Kuroo says, starting the car.

Kuroo heads back in the direction of the ports, and you assume it’s so that the 20 cigars could be returned to the container. Once again, the two of you ride in comfortable silence, your mind wandering as you gazed at the distant city lights.

“What’s on your mind, princess?” Kuroo asks, bringing you back to reality.

“My brother.” You answer without hesitation. “If things were different, it’d probably be him doing this job with you. Maybe not in the passenger seat, but still. The family legacy would be his.” You felt a pit grow in your stomach, your eyes suddenly tearing up. You always had these lingering feelings of doubt, but you never realized it was because of Keishin, having to be in his shadow. No one ever bet on you, or thought you were going to be the one inheriting the empire. Regardless, you were there, because your brother wasn’t.

“Well, no offense to the great Black Lung but I for one am glad you’re here. No one else I’d rather have in my passenger seat.” He says, giving you a sincere smile, one that you haven’t seen before. It was different from his flirtatious smirk, or his arrogant grin. It was just a simple, kind smile.

Black Lung?” You questioned.

“Your brother’s racing name. Y’know, like DK, Cypher, Sly Fox. He used to smoke like 6 packs a day, even more than Kita. He was kind of a big deal in the racing scene. After he passed, Karasuno didn’t race for a long time because there was no one that could replace him. They’re slowly getting back on the road, but your brother is definitely still a driver people remember.” Kuroo explains, pulling into the port once again.

“He smoked?” You asked, trying to remember a time you saw him with a cigarette. You assumed it was because he only smoked when he was away from the house, because it was something that your father would have never approved of. You were pretty sure Keishin would’ve been disowned if he smoked or drank in front of your father.

“Yeah, all the time. That was his whole thing. Did he not smoke around you?” Kuroo asks, eyebrows furrowed.

“No, I guess he never smoked around our family. I don’t think my dad knew either if he only smoked when he raced.” You pause for a moment. “Do you know anything about it? The accident?” You ask, growing more and more curious about what Kuroo knew. Your brother’s death was always explained to you by members of your family, and you wondered if there was something that they didn’t know that the racers did.

Kuroo paused, an expression of deep thought in his face. He looked as though he was trying to figure out the exact sentences he would say next. “All I’ve heard is that…there was an explosion. I think his girlfriend was near it at the time, and she got injured. That’s all I know though, no one really talks about it much because of how bad it hurt everyone. A lot of people cared about him.”

“He had a girlfriend?” You ask, turning towards Kuroo as he puts the car in park.

He looks at you, eyebrows furrowed. “Yeah, some chick named Saeko. I think she has a younger brother that races nowadays. I’m pretty sure she’s still a mechanic for the team.” Kuroo pauses, looking out towards the port. “Look, I don’t know too much about the accident. And I assume your dad doesn’t want you looking into it too hard. But if you do want to know more, just let me know. I’ll talk to some guys from Karasuno. Sounds good?” He asks you.

You nod in agreeance, knowing that there had to be a reason why Keishin was so secretive, and why your father is still keeping secrets about his death to this day. “Okay. If you end up talking to Saeko, could I come along? I just...I feel like I’m getting to know my brother all over again. I want to know the side of him that he hid from our family.”

“Of course. Now c’mon, let's get these cigars back where they came from.” Kuroo says, getting out of the car and popping the trunk. You follow him, getting out and standing next to him.

The two of you silently put the cigars back, working quickly to get the job completely finished. By the time Kuroo was closing the container door, Oikawa came through in the ear piece.

“Hey love birds, are you heading back to the house soon?” he asks. Kuroo rolls his eyes and unmutes himself.

“We’re heading back now from the port. Snake Eyes, you told the boss the delivery was made already, right?”

“Yup, I let him know. He’s waiting for you guys at the house.” Kenma replies.

“Sounds good, we’ll be there soon. Cypher, Sly Fox, go ahead and start heading over now.”

“Will do. See you soon DK.” Sly Fox says.

“C’mon princess, let’s go home.” Kuroo says, throwing his arm over you as the two of you walk back to the car. You take the hand he had on your shoulder into your own, squeezing tightly. It was strange how natural it felt, being with Kuroo. It was almost as if it was where you belonged, with him, wrapped up in his arms.

You climb back into the car, watching Kuroo as he starts the car and begins driving off once again. Your head was spinning trying to make sense of everything that had occurred that night, as well as processing all the new information Kuroo had told you about your brother. You knew this day had to come, when you would have to jump in head first into the world your family operated within, when you would have to fully take on the Sakanoshita name and all the responsibilities that come with it.

As Kuroo rolls up to the driveway of your home, you see Oikawa and Kita standing outside with your father, smoke billowing from where the three of them were conversing.

“Tetsurou! (y/n)! I was beginning to wonder when you’d be back!” Your father says, cutting another cigar and handing it to Kuroo, motioning for him to join the group.

“Cubans? What’s the occasion?” You ask your father, standing next to Kuroo.

“Your first job, sweetheart. And with no casualties, no arrests, a clean job deserves a little reward.” Your father says, grinning at you, holding out a cigar for you to take.

“Dad, I don’t smoke.” You say, laughing.

“Oh c’mon, the most powerful man in Tokyo offers you a cigar, you take the cigar.” Oikawa says, smirking and letting out another cloud of smoke.

You roll your eyes, taking the cigar and allowing your father to light it. You thought more about the cigar as you drew the smoke in, about what it meant for you to be invited to smoke with your father. It meant that you were finally owning your family name, you were finally a true Sakanoshita.

You stood there silently, listening as Kuroo explained to your father the decision he made to use Kita as the real transport and to make himself the emergency decoy. Your father listened as well, nodding along with an expression of deep thought on his face.

“Great thinking Tetsurou. That is exactly why I keep you on my payroll.” Your father laughs, smacking his hand against Kuroo’s back. Kuroo laughs as well, putting on his usual submissive attitude that he uses with your father to gain his good graces.

“Let’s just hope your daughter keeps me on when she takes over.” Kuroo jokes, nudging you with his elbow.

“Well, I’m sure you’ve earned your place with the whole family.” Your father says, smiling at you. “Say, isn’t that Tetsurou’s jacket?”

“Oh, yeah.” You say, realizing you still had it on. “It got cold at the ports.”

“It’s funny. You’re starting to look more and more like him.” Your father says, eyes squinting as he smiles sadly.

“Like who? DK?” Kita asks with a cigar hanging out of his mouth.

“Keishin. The racing jacket, the gun. Even the smoking.” The hairs on the back of your neck stood up, remembering the conversation you had with Kuroo about your brother. Your suspicions about your father kept growing, and it became harder and harder to believe his mourning father act, the smoke and mirrors he used to deceive everyone.

“Well, you know how much I adored him.” You say, taking another puff from your cigar. You and your father both pause, staring one another down. There was noticeable tension, but with no clear reason. Nothing more than a gut feeling.

The staredown was cut off by Kuroo clearing his throat, getting both yours and your father’s attention. “It’s getting pretty late, we don’t want to keep the two of you from a good night’s rest.” He says, finding a way for the three racers to leave.

“Yes, it is getting rather late. Oh! Better not forget these. Tetsurou, I put your friend’s pay for tonight with yours.” Your father says, moving away from the staircase leading up to the front door to reveal three paper bags with names on them, which you assume was full of money.

“Thank you sir. I’ll make sure to get it to Snake Eyes.” Kuroo says, bowing to your father. Kita and Oikawa follow suit, bowing before grabbing their bags.

“Pleasure doing business with you.” Kita says, walking back to his car.

“See you next time boss. You too, princesa.” Oikawa says, waving to the both of you before getting into his car.

“So, you’ll let me know when there’s another job?” Kuroo asks as Oikawa and Kita begin pulling out of the driveway.

“Absolutely.” He nods, turning to face both of you. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I better get inside before your mother comes out here and drags me back in. Have a good night, Tetsurou.” He says, going back inside. It was once again just you and Kuroo.

“Oh! I almost forgot.” You say, beginning to take off Kuroo’s red bomber jacket.

“Keep it.” He says, taking a step closer to you. He places the jacket back onto your shoulders. “I’ll be back for it eventually.”

The two of you pause, staring into each other’s eyes. It felt like a moment that you could live in forever, relishing the comfort that Kuroo gave you.

“Thanks for having my back tonight. You sure know how to think on your feet.” Kuroo says.

“Not like I had much of a choice.” You say, remembering the moment earlier in the night. A part of you wished it wasn’t a lie, that you and Kuroo were just two lovers out for a drive. Nothing illegal, nothing scary, just a guy with a car and the girl in the passenger seat.

“Come here, princess.” Kuroo says, pulling you into a tight hug. Your heart skips a beat, startled by the sudden act of affection. You wrap your arms around him, feeling perfectly at home in his arms, being squeezed tightly against his body.

“Please be careful. I don’t trust your father.” Kuroo whispers into your ear. You realize the real reason why he hugged you, so that he could tell you this message in secret. “I’ll talk to some people from Karasuno Killers and see if you can meet Keishin’s girl. He’s hiding something, (y/n).”

“How do you know? What are you talking about?” You ask, holding him tighter.

“(y/n), how would your father know that Keishin smoked? If he lied about that, then we don’t know what else he’s hiding.” Kuroo responds. Your breath catches in your throat, remembering what your father had said, about your sudden resemblance to Keishin.

Racing jacket, gun, smoke.

#haikyuu #kuroo #kuroo testuro #kuroo tetsuro x reader #deciphered #hq #fanfic #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo x reader #haikyuu fanfic #haikyuu fanfiction

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mikwrites-archive · 3 years

Text

like a movie.

pairing: lee juyeon x reader warnings: none genre: highschool au, football player ju, pining, ju is innocently shy, this is literally so cheesy its like a bad teen movie so read at your own discretion HWJBSJDF wc: 2.3k

a/n: hello !!! i am back and with a fic no one asked for and just ju brainrot n word vomit <3 a lot has been going on lately but i’ve broken my writers block mainly and hope to be back posting soon hehe !!! i hope you’re all doing well <3

Summer was over, and suddenly you found yourself forced back into living.

Or dying.

When you’re in your last year of high school, it’s difficult to tell the difference, though the presence of your best friend Kevin makes it all the more bearable.

Sometimes.

“Have you seen Juyeon?”

“No.” You pointedly give Kevin a look as you fiddle with your locker, and he holds his hands up defensively.

“I was just asking! Everyone’s been talking about how he glowed up in the summer. And you know how he doesn’t post much online, but I don’t see why people are suddenly surprised. Juyeon’s always had good looks. But I guess it’s like you magically become hot when you’re on the football team or something.” Kevin sighs, and you muffle your laughter.

“Stop talking so loud!”

“What? Afraid that someone will hear?” Kevin wiggles his eyebrows. “That J-Juyeon, hey!”

“Kevin, that’s not funny, I swear-” the words die in your throat as you turn to see Kevin very much standing beside Juyeon. He wasn’t wrong when he said Juyeon’s always possessed a dreamy visage; you remember clearly in elementary school whenever he was in your classes, how many students would vy for his attention, and as much as you wished to as well, you’d always shyly skirted around the competition as Kevin jokingly put it.

You’re quick to bury your face back into your locker as you place your belongings and books as slowly as you can while they converse.

“How was your summer?” Juyeon asks, and just hearing his voice makes your face flush, flustered.

“Good! We,” Kevin grabs your arm playfully, and you cringe, clutching the locker door to continue hiding, and Kevin relents. “Had lots of fun! How was yours?”

They converse casually for a few more (excruciatingly long) minutes, until someone else calls Juyeon over, and leaves you back with Kevin.

“So?” What did you think?” Kevin smirks. “Do you agree? You barely looked at him, maybe I should call him back over-”

You punch his arm, hard, while swinging your bag over your shoulder, and Kevin cackles despite the pain you inflicted on his arm.

“You better sleep with one eye open tonight, Moon.”

“Saw you talking to Kevin and you know who earlier.” Hyunjae nudges Juyeon in the ribs, as they walk to the football field, grinning as Juyeon shies away embarrassedly.

“Just Kevin. I don’t think they wanted to talk to me.”

Hyunjae is silent, thinking, before he speaks up again carefully. “Y’know, for someone as handsome as you are Ju, you’re pretty easy going.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Juyeon, someone asked you to marry them back in elementary school and you just said okay.”

“What else was I supposed to say?”

“No?”

“Okay, fine. But I don’t see what this has to do with anything right now.” Juyeon huffs.

“You’ve liked them for years now. But I mean… you’ve barely even tried to tell them.”

“Maybe I will.” Juyeon replies defensively, and Hyunjae tries to hide his smile as Juyeon stalks off, annoyed by his friend’s insinuations.

“Did it actually work?” Changmin sidles up to Hyunjae once Juyeon is out of earshot, and he grins, shrugging.

“No idea. We’ll just have to see.”

“So mean.” Changmin snorts. “Making him upset to chase after them finally.”

“Hey! He needed a little push, and I gave it to him.” Hyunjae exclaims seriously, and Changmin shrugs, chuckling.

“Better hope it works.”

“Kevin, I’m not gonna fight you over this again, you already know that I-”

So absorbed in your conversation with Kevin, you aren’t paying any attention to what’s going on in the grassy field that you both walk across to access the shorter route home until it’s too late.

“Watch out!”

The shout comes closer than you’d like, and you barely have time to turn and determine the source before you’re tackled to the ground.

Hands come to shield the back of your head, arms caging you in, and you can only squeak as you hit the grass, eyes shut.

“Are you okay?”

Concerned eyes peer down at you as you crack open your own, eyes that were all too familiar.

Lee Juyeon.

You can see Kevin in the corner of your eye, biting on his fist as he’s torn between horror, concern, satisfaction, and excitement. You can hear the football team getting closer, Changmin already stooping to pick up the ball in close proximity to you.

“You couldn’t have just tried to catch the ball instead of tackling them to the ground, Ju?” Sangyeon snorts, and Juyeon flushes.

“Uh, right. But I didn’t want to crash into you, so I thought...” he trails off, scratching the back of his head as he lifts himself up, and you follow quickly.

In your haste, you’re almost blindly scrambling upwards, resulting in knocking heads with Juyeon, a resound thunk that has everyone wincing.

He yelps, flopping to the side, and you clutch your head with one hand and Kevin’s extended one with the other, stammering apologies as you absolutely make a run for it.

Juyeon doesn’t move, eyes blankly staring at the sky, as the team peers at him, grinning.

“Nice one, Ju.” Hyunjae chuckles, and Juyeon groans.

“Shut up.”

“Is your head okay?”

“For the third time Kev, yes, I’m fine!” You laugh as he hands you another ice pack worriedly. “It’s just a little sore.”

“I can’t believe he caught you like that, you should’ve seen it.” Kevin snorts after a few moments of silence pass. “It was like a romance movie.”

“I should’ve stayed to see if he was okay, but everyone was staring.” You sigh, and he pats your head comfortingly.

“Don’t worry, I asked Changmin and he said that Juyeon’s alright. Aren’t you lucky you have such a wonderful best friend who has all these connections?”

“You’re just as awkward as I am, don’t try to fool me.”

“Yeah, but…” Kevin hesitates, and you look over at him curiously, urging him to continue. “You’re sometimes too scared to get over being awkward, y’know? And then that means you don’t get out there as much, or have that many friends, or-”

“Okay, I get it.” You snort. “But I don’t see how Juyeon has anything to do with this.”

“Because you’ve liked him since elementary school, dummy.” He rolls his eyes dramatically as you pout. “And we’re almost done with high school. I think you should tell him.”

“Easier said than done.” You sigh. “You think everything’s like the movies Kev.”

“Oh honey, you’re the main character of your own life, so it might as well be a movie to make it more fun.” He snickers as you roll your eyes. “Okay, then at least talk to him without running away?”

“I don’t run away.”

Kevin glares at you.

“You refused to go to that new ice cream shop over the summer with me because he worked there! And you always excuse yourself to go to the bathroom whenever we bump into him in public, and after today at the football field, do you need me to go on?”

“No… but I don’t know how to talk to him.” You whine, and Kevin smiles triumphantly.

“That’s why you’ll be coming with me this weekend to the arcade. All the boys will be there.”

“Did you plan this?” You glare, and Kevin gasps in a way that answers your question.

“Never!”

“Sure.” You grumble sarcastically, though not denying his eager offer, and Kevin smiles.

When the weekend comes, you couldn’t be more nervous.

You tell yourself it’ll be easy enough, eleven of them total, and only one of them you had to subtly avoid. Yet somehow you seemed to always end up beside or in close proximity to him (due to the proud teammates of his).

“Sorry about the other day.” Juyeon offers meekly as you’re all entering the arcade, and you laugh awkwardly.

“It’s alright. Thanks for uh, catching me.”

“No… no problem.”

“I, uh,” you try not to choke on your saliva as you realize how close Juyeon is walking beside you. Being a large group, it was instinct to pack together in places you couldn’t all roam around. His hand brushes against yours, and it’s for a split second that your fingers link together before Kevin excitedly points you towards the claw machine.

“I saw that.” Chanhee sighs sympathetically, patting Juyeon on the shoulder, and he all but wilts, running a hand through his hair. “Try winning them something from the claw machine maybe. Kevin sucks at it.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Juyeon murmurs, but Chanhee knows he’s discouraged, despite his pure attempt.

“C’mon, I’ll go make Sunwoo buy us slushies.”

As Juyeon walks with Chanhee, he doesn’t notice your glances at him.

“Why do you look so shaken up?” Kevin blinks as he finally notices your wide eyes as he tears his gaze away from the stuffed prizes.

“I think… I think Juyeon tried to hold my hand.”

“He what?” Kevin chokes, and you shush him.

“He tried, before you pulled me away to the claw machine, which you know you suck at!”

“Go back, oh my god, go back!”

“Go back where?” You hiss, and he thinks.

“I dunno! Pretend you want a stuffed animal prize really bad or something, that usually works in the movies!”

“This isn’t a movie!”

“You know what this means?” Kevin stares at you excitedly. “He likes you!”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” You flush, glancing around to make sure no one was in earshot of Kevin’s ecstatic voice. “Maybe he just accidentally did it.”

“I bet he’ll confess to you today.” Kevin announces surely, and you bite the inside of your cheek.

“Whatever you say, Kev.”

It was quite the contrary.

Instead, the rest of the day, Juyeon barely interacted with you, besides awkwardly stilted conversations in which Juyeon believed you didn’t like him, and you were just confused.

Juyeon’s ready to leave it all behind him until he walks into the locker room before practice a few days later.

“Juyeon.”

Slowing in his tracks, he scans his surroundings, each of his team members sitting solemnly on the benches, as if waiting for his arrival. He glances at the clock, seeing he wasn’t late to practice, and furrows his eyebrows.

“Y-Yes?” He answers reluctantly, feeling very much uncomfortable with their stares, a thin sheen of sweat breaking out on his skin.

“Sit down. We have something very important to tell you.”

He takes a seat next to Sangyeon who patted the empty space, looking back and forth warily at the surrounding boys.

“Juyeon, they like you.”

Juyeon sits there pensively, and everyone holds their breath.

“No.” He shakes his head, and everyone explodes at the one syllable.

“What do you mean no? We just told you!”

“I knew we should’ve made the PowerPoint, I knew it!”

“We’re not tricking you this time, it’s not a prank!”

“I just… I don’t see it. I mean, they always avoid me, or never say anything to me, and whatever I try to do, it never works.” Juyeon frowns, and the team deflates slightly.

For Juyeon’s innocence had multiple facets, both positive and negative; whether it was him using it to sweet talk his way out of an escalating situation, increasing his gullibility or easily upset emotions, or using it as a factor of his curiosity and hard work, it also often blinded him in the signals he received from others.

“Juyeon, they’re just nervous to be around you! Like how you are with them!” Eric explains, agreement rising in the room.

“So you’re saying since they like me… they keep avoiding me?” Juyeon squints.

A pause ensues as they puzzle his words together.

“Yeah, basically.”

The dubious expression still lingers and Sunwoo gets up, sighing.

“Alright then, let’s make a bet.”

Juyeon raises an eyebrow.

“Fine. I’m listening.”

“Well, that was a fail.”

“I thought we could win!” Sunwoo pouts, and the team groans.

“It was a good try.” Changmin laughs, and Juyeon smiles. Sunwoo had bet the success of their football game upon Juyeon’s confession, only to lose by three points.

“It’s okay. I’m gonna tell them anyways.”

“Huh?” Sunwoo blurts confusedly. “But you won?”

“I know.” Juyeon grins sheepishly. “But I can't help thinking maybe you guys were right, since you’ve never steered me wrong before, and I can at least try to tell them.”

“Took you long enough. All this work to make yourself sound like a cool teen movie protagonist.” Hyunjae snorts, and Juyeon flushes as everyone laughs.

“Let us know how it goes!”

Kevin sends you a text to meet him at the football field, telling you he’d forgotten his sweater there, and amidst your cursing at your friend at his forgetful mind, you almost don’t realize the figure waiting for you isn’t Kevin.

“I like you.” Juyeon blurts, and you blink, not having any time to say anything.

“I- what?”

“I’ve liked you ever since that day in elementary school when I fell and you gave me a Hello Kitty bandaid because I was bleeding.”

You remember that day, shaky hands handing over the emergency bandage you kept in your bag as Juyeon accepted it thankfully, giving you a charmingly toothy smile that had your heart fluttering.

“I honestly don’t really know what I’m saying right now, I had a plan but I can’t really remember it now, so I-”

“Juyeon.” You cut him off, and his mouth snaps shut. “Breathe.”

He inhales. Exhales. You do the same to bolster yourself.

“I… I like you too.” You admit, and silence falls for a few moments before Juyeon laughs.

It’s a laugh he can’t hold back, bubbling up in his chest, and you find yourself joining him.

“What… what do we do now?” He gasps between giggles, and you’re wiping at your watery eyes with an airy shrug.

“Go on a date, losers!” A voice shouts down, and both of you look at the bleachers, where everyone stood up, cheering. “Kiss!”

“Were you guys there the entire time?” Juyeon calls out, and you shake your head embarrassedly at their reply.

“Duh!”

#lee juyeon x reader #lee juyeon imagines #juyeon imagines #juyeon x reader #tbz imagines #tbz x reader #the boyz imagines #the boyz x reader #the boyz x you #tbz x you #lee juyeon fluff #juyeon fluff #juyeon fanfic

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borkthemork · 3 years

Text

Finally cleaned up this draft based on @/popcornbee’s art and it is now officially on AO3 as well, so I hope all of you enjoy!

---

There were numerous pathways for a sparrow to travel. Following their migration patterns, they'd travel down to warmer lands, typically somewhere protected for the nights. In doing so, they'd rest in the winter and return back all new. Refreshed for the upcoming springs and summers.

For American Tree Sparrows, these patterns were necessary to survive.

For Joe Sparrow, the true information depended.

He liked to flit about on rapid wing beats. He preferred curdled mealworms due to previous battles hurting his digestive system. For migration, he remained stubborn on whether he liked the warmer breezes or if the Newtopian stables were of true home than anything else.

Newtopia had a history of domestic birds. Joe Sparrow was the mixed case when he grew all-natural, got captured and owned by one or more owners who called him previous names, and then found Marcy in the middle of sweltering rain. Where a mission lead to something new and surprising, bold and unorthodox, and the moment Joe saved her — chose her hand of all people — Marcy promised to keep him safe. Safe, protected, cared for.

And nothing had pulled these two away from each other. Not even the fleeting concept of gravity. Or the fact winter threatened his nests.

Anne asked about him before. On one occasion, where Marcy groomed him under Plantar barn shade, Anne looked at his big, round, puffy belly and wondered out loud where the scar above his eye fit in out of all things.

Of course, Marcy had the answer.

“Oh, you know Joe,” she sighed. “He keeps pushing his limits. You won’t believe how many scars this bad boy got during his old career. For the eye one, he actually got that scar back when he was just a fledgling, but this was during the morally ethical times where amphibians didn’t really care for mounts unless they were battle resistant.”

Her hand parsed through his plume, giggling when Joe tweeted pleasantly against her skin. “But now he’s in a morally ethical place, aren’t you, boy? Yes, you are.”

Anne snorted. She ruffled Joe’s feathers too, and the two giggled quietly when the sparrow seemed to lean into the touch. Almost as if the sparrow connected immediately to Anne.

And Anne teared up over the thought. “It’s just like mother nature intended.”

The week afterward reminded Marcy of her sparring days, but instead of swords and smoke bombs, she had worms and patience. Lots of patience as Anne attempted to feed some mesh into Joe’s beak — and ultimately got stuck when she leaned too hard into his mouth.

It was funny how all this bonding time left her blind to anything else on the schedule. Marcy could instruct Anne to direct the mealworms to Joe for hours and still find Anne’s laughter to be the highlight of her day. Maybe Joe would sit on Anne, and leave her yelling and laughing under floof-fulls of bird, and Marcy would sketch that scene than the typical mission schematics Lady Olivia instructed her to look through.

Marcy hypothesized that Joe's love for attention spurned her focus. It made sense for birds to tease if they didn’t get the proper reaction out of people. It made sense for a bird such as Joe to find affection in someone who exuded goodness from their heart. But then Marcy would remember Anne. For Anne had Joe’s affection at the palm of her hands but irritated the bird enough to prefer dipping her into a nearby pond just for the sake of playfighting. And that enough had gotten her intrigued.

Was it another phenomenon she needed to analyze? To understand fully until the cusp of discovery?

Perhaps. Not right now though.

Marcy had found a breakthrough. A breakthrough in Animal-Human Sociology. But her focus lingered elsewhere, came down to how she rested next to a bucket load of dirty feathers — snoring into her best friend’s shoulder until the moon rose high above the Amphibian mountains.

---

When Marcy stared through the sky, and the act alone reminded her so much of Kid Icarus. If she ignored the wings branching out from the corners of her eyes, and only focused on the colors then she thought of herself as flying. Flying through skies that bled yellows and reds like Aivazovsky, framed so well against the crisp horizons that Marcy could almost paint the perfectest picture in her mind.

And when wind buffered her hair, parted the clouds with her hands, she swore that the taste on her tongue was of fresh saltwater.

Navigation. Freedom. The fades from orange to blue to maroon. Marcy loved riding for a reason. She held onto Joe’s reins with the utmost quickness, spelled out her name with short dives and leaps through cumulus tufts. And in the aftermath, she wrung her coat dry of moisture.

At least, until Anne became a priority.

Anne Boonchuy. Friend of ten years. Friends since the term friends became part of the Merriam Webster. Now, the latter sounded silly, but friendship could be a frank concept at times, it was something Marcy had no clue how to navigate, and yet Anne found her and decided Marcy was worth her time.

So they were here now: One readying an avian saddle, the other petting Joe’s tufts with the heaviest affection. And aw, Joe seemed to like it, what with the amount of cooing he’d been doing for the past hour.

Not like Marcy didn’t want to get in on that action. She just needed to finish clipping on the latches — and when she did that, it would be go-time, her a-game.

“Anne, can you push me that satchel?”

“Sure thing, Marce.” With ease, Anne somehow lugged a chair-sized bag over to where Marcy was, and they remained silent afterward as she finished the remainder of preparations.

What preparations? Well, the kind that remained out of her league.

“Sooo, where are ya’ going, exactly?” Anne asked. She had the same perturbed look to her ever since she whiffed the scents from the bag itself.

Marcy couldn’t help but rub her neck, not knowing how well to respond. “Well, I’ve been planning to scout an area somewhere high up in the Southern sect of Amphibia. I got wind that some bandits plan to use a route to jump ambassadors from here and there on the pathways, and I just wanted to make sure that doesn’t happen again, you know?"

“For sure, dude. I mean, you are the boss after all. That stuff’s gotta be pretty important if you’re getting loads of homework for it.”

“Well,” Marcy puckered her lips. She was right in some sense. Chief rangers plopped themselves into some high category up in the Newtopian ranks. It made sense. “Correct, kinda. I don’t really call it a boss position, more so a job. A very fun job, actually. You’d be surprised at how many prefer office desks to infantry, it’s nuts.”

Although, the more she thought about it, being able to stay safe in a big ole’ cube than getting skewered by bandits did sound appealing. Less probability for harm, sure. But Marcy loved the hunt way too much for her own good.

If Andrias gave her another objective, she might as well do a little dance at this point; there was always something exciting to partake in.

And with Joe, the fun always doubled with him.

At least, until she remembered that Anne had been staring at her, snapping her fingers in front of Marcy’s nose. “Marbles, you good? Another zone-out moment again?”

“Oh yeah, definitely. Thanks, I was about to get worried, the internal dialogue I had was getting way too extensive for my taste."

"Well, now that you’re out of your internal dialogue stuff, I got to ask.” Anne peered at Joe again. “Can I get on your bird?”

Marcy blinked at her. “Oh. Of course. You don’t really need to ask me if you’re curious about riding him.”

“I know, but he’s a big softie, really wanted to make sure I got your permission before anything else.” She coughed. “Plus I’m not gonna take any vehicles without permission. Tried that once. Didn’t go so hot.”

Somehow, Marcy found herself giggling. She couldn’t pinpoint why; Anne’s honesty must’ve just been that funny. “Well, if you want to jump on the SS Joe Sparrow, I’d be happy to show you around and get you a front-row ticket to some action.”

“For real?” Anne beamed, only for her expression to melt into a frown, scratching her chin at the thought. “Aren’t you on ranger duty though?”

Okay, she had a point there. “I mean, yeah, but I’ve mainly done this stuff solo. Sure I’ve got Joe to accompany me but it’ll be interesting to have a second person on board for the ride.” Without a skip in her beat. “And why wouldn’t I have you go with me? Of course, I would. You’re always the best on road trips.”

And with that, Anne’s smile grew tenfold. Oddly beautiful. Oddly hard to describe. Weirder to even have herself think those things in the first place. “Count me in, then. Let’s go, Marbles!”

Oh well. She’d think about that later.

---

Joe softened his landings in-between. And at certain points, when the mountains dipped to valleys he rocketed around and buffeted the gales just for the heck of it. He had the heart of a little kid sometimes, every moment he swooped through some current or plummet forward if he got the chance. He liked to make himself seem so grand when he cheeped. And Marcy confided in the idea that no matter how aged this sparrow would become, he’d still be the softest avian around.

Always there. Always playful. Always…eager for potential mates. He was the total package for best mount in all of Amphibia, and Marcy didn’t want it any other way.

So with Anne, Marcy became delighted when Joe kept that same kindness. It wasn’t just Marcy doing rough landings against solid ground or her zipping through the air. There were two people, two people to consider on the back of his saddle.

And Joe never disappointed her. He pivoted, swerved on command, and coaxed giggles from the girl behind her, whose arms pressed tightly to her waist until their hair puffed out from the wind.

“Keep your arms locked in, Annie B!”

Marcy’s hands whipped the reins, whooping at the top of her lungs when the dive pushed oceans of air into their faces.

The straps and belts dug into their laps when Joe pulled up, braced them in a loop-de-loop that had their eyes rolling when they finally exited out to a steady level.

And Marcy could hear the laughter behind her.

The laughter spoke of so much joy and happiness, of a symphony that Marcy had heard so many times before, and Marcy leaned into her warmth when they passed from the hallowed groves to the shimmering Newtingale creaks.

All throughout the Southern sect, all throughout the faint rattle of Marcy’s heart.

---

The ride home had been a lot darker than Marcy expected. For most of her trips in and out of the valleys, a lot of her path-finding culminated in something one could describe as an adventure. If one described her and Anne beating up an entire bandit group disguised as a clown posse to be an adventure, then yes. That was what happened.

They went head-to-head, toe-to-toe. All while decked out in white makeup and smelly rotten clown noses. This all sounded ridiculous, but out in Amphibia, one should never ever underestimate a theatre group.

For entertainment was their cruelest weapon.

Anne had been the first to ambush the bandits during the mission. With the agile reflexes of a cat, she deflected each oncoming slash with ease while Marcy took aim, calculated her crossbow trajectory until the enemies all knocked unconscious in the mud.

If one ignored the clown get-up, then what she talked about seemed like a typical day for Marcy. Always saving someone. Always doing her best. Always making sure no newts got chewed up by some toad or frog dressed up in rogue wear.

But the difference today was that she had someone to accompany her. Or how that same someone jumped onto Joe and gave that feisty bird a few scratches to his feathers, trying to wash her face in the water bucket they stored earlier today.

It all seemed domestic-like. The kind that Marcy dreamed about in fantasy stories, where the protag had a close ally to travel the world until their dying breaths.

And gosh, it was so cool that Anne became that friend.

She seemed to enjoy it too, what with the close embrace when they finally took off for the night, her chin propped on her cloaked shoulder, or the fact her exhales drifted in crisp Amphibian air.

A sign that she was enjoying everything. Everything from the swoop of Joe’s wings, the purple haze of the night, or how the moon cloaked their forms in red lighting — masking the landscape in darkness like a blanket over bedding.

Anne sighed contently. Her face nestled close to Marcy’s neck. She didn’t show that she regretted being here.

Not one bit.

“I’ve never been this high up before,” she mumbled. “The only times I did were when some creature flung me up into the middle of nowhere.”

Marcy hummed to that. Anne's fingers ghosted the triceps of Marcy's arms, left goosebumps to form and bristle in the cold, it made everything feel weird. Comfortable. Safe. “So is this less traumatizing and more exciting then?”

“Oh yeah, definitely.” Her voice rang, all charmed and sweet. “By a long shot.”

And Marcy was glad about that. Ever since she found Joe, a lot of her adventures had gotten easier to deal with. From zooming over to the Dry Swamp to the many forests hidden deep underneath solid canopies, one of the many pros of having a steed like Joe was of the view.

A view that made scouting ten times easier. The kind that entangled her in clouds, the song of avians, and the dance of the breeze. The kind that chilled her nose, left cumulus droplets on her thumbs, and when she settled down from grazing the upper layers of oxygen her body’s equilibrium warmed her up like it always intended to.

To have Anne feel that same experiences — the same elation — made the trip all the more worth it. Especially when Marcy’s skin grew warmer under non-equilibrium circumstances. All due to the cuddly contact.

Oh, Anne.

“If you want, I know a froggy pitstop nearby that sells slushies twenty-four-seven,” Marcy said softly. Joe went into a descent, already maneuvered by Marcy’s quick hands at the reins. They weren’t going to land yet. At least until Anne said so. “Wouldn’t hurt to take in the view on a full stomach.”

“That sounds amazing.” Anne pressed closer, and Marcy tried not to think about the murmur, how low it rumbled against Marcy’s ear. Gosh, she must be really relaxed by now. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m ready for some grub.”

“Well, they aren’t really grubs more like a mish-mash of every insect on the palette.”

“I try not to think about it.”

With laughter escaping them, Marcy directed Joe into the forest space below, her heart synced with the beat of sparrow wings.

#amphibia #marcanne #annarcy #Finally it's its own standalone fic #anne boonchuy #marcy wu #I mainly just placed this stuff in the drabbles comp but I loved this one too much that I had to clean it up #I FORGOT TO PUT THE MARGINS

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ikeromantic · 3 years

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Bonding

A Mitsuhide Akechi fanfic, approx. 1800 words. This scene takes place well after the events of the Romantic Epilogue as part of my post-route headcanon storyline.

First: Mitsuhide and the Maiden

Previous: In the Spotlight

Mitsuhide sat on the edge of a stuffed chair, a ‘sofa’, across from his little one’s father. Minoru, for his part, didn’t look any more comfortable with the company. Neither of them said anything. Mitsuhide found that his usual silver tongue had run out of witticisms when faced with the twin challenge of a world 500 years in the future and the need to impress the father of his beloved.

In the kitchen, the chatelaine and her mother Youko were making dinner. Their lively chatter was the only sound as the two men studied each other.

Finally, Minoru cleared his throat. “So. How did you two meet?”

“The answer to that would require additional explanation. Suffice it to say, I met her in the course of my work. Initially, she was a responsibility of mine. To train her so that she knew enough to stay ali- ah, safe.” Mitsuhide smiled. “She was quite a handful.”

Minoru frowned. “Safe? Safe from what? What kind of business are you in?” He leaned forward.

“Intelligence and information gathering.” He silently thanked Sarutobi for the modern words to describe being a spy and torturer.

“You work for a government?”

Mitsuhide nodded. “That is a good way to put it. Yes. For a government.”

His little mouse poked her head through the door. “Everything going ok, you two?”

Both men cleared their expressions and smiled over at her. “Yes,” they replied, almost in unison.

Her bright smile lit up the room. “I’m so glad. I wanted you two to get along. Anyway, dinner is almost ready!” She disappeared again and the smiles the two men wore faded like snow under a noon-day sun.

Minoru turned back to Mitsuhide. “How did my daughter get tangled up with some government agent? She designs clothes. She left for a job in fashion.” His voice is strained, half a year’s worth of worry and frustration pushing at the seams of his soul.

Mitsuhide nodded. “She is amazing at making clothing. That is a career she continues to pursue. But I met her the night she pulled my superior from a burning building. Had she not arrived when she did, he would have died.”

“My baby girl . . . pulled a man from a burning building?” Minoru’s eyebrows shot up, his expression one of incredulous disbelief.

“Yes, and after, he thought she should stay with our forces. For her protection and because he believed there was something special about her.” Mitsuhide’s thin smile reappeared. “He wasn’t wrong. She is very special. A wonder.”

Minoru coughed. “Well, yes, but . . . a burning building? She isn’t, that is, she wouldn’t just -”

Mitsuhide leaned forward. “You know her from her childhood. If she knew someone was going to burn to death and she had a chance to save them, would she leave them to die? Is it so unbelievable?”

He shook his head slowly. He knew his daughter was exactly the kind of girl to put herself at risk for another. “I should not be surprised. When she was five, she ran out into the street to stop traffic for a kitten. Almost got hit by a car. And it wasn’t until after the cat was safe that she even realized how close she came to dying.”

Both men chuckled.

“That sounds exactly like something my little mouse would do.”

Minoru scowled. “Your what?”

“A nickname,” Mitsuhide waved the comment off.

And then the call came for dinner. They all sat down around the table. A spread of familiar and strange foods that piqued Mitsuhide’s curiosity. He wondered which of these his beloved had made, and which her mother. To be safe, he thought, it would be wise to compliment every dish.

“So,” her mother began after everyone was served. “My daughter tells me you’re a warlord working for Oda Nobunaga?”

Mitsuhide choked in surprise, the bite of food sticking in his throat. He glanced at his little mouse for confirmation.

“It just sort of popped out while we were talking.”

With effort and a glass of water, Mitsuhide swallowed and cleared his throat. “I didn’t expect to bring this up until after dinner, but yes.”

Minoru scowled. “You’re telling me you work for a man 500 years dead?”

“I don’t know, he seemed pretty lively last time I saw him,” Mitsuhide quipped.

His little mouse grinned. “Papa, be nice! I told you, we will tell you everything.” She took a deep breath. “It started the day I arrived in Kyoto. I went sightseeing . . .”

Mitsuhide listened as attentively as her parents, this version of the tale filling in gaps and details he hadn’t known. Her timely rescue of Sasuke Sarutobi, her run-in with the forces from Kasugayama. It appeared his little one was better at keeping secrets that he’d credited.

Through the story, her mother made little sounds of agreement or surprise, but Minoru was deathly silent. His expression turned darker at every part until he couldn’t hold back anymore. “This sounds like some ridiculous cartoon! You can’t expect your mother and I to buy this. Tell the truth! What is he, some mafia? A gambler? What?”

Youko frowned at him from across the table. “Now you just hush and eat your food. If our little girl says this is what happened, I believe her. She has no reason to lie. She knows we support her no matter what. Don’t we, dear?”

Minoru’s brows lowered. “You can’t be serious. This, this man shows up with our daughter after months with no word! Not a letter! Not a post card! With this crazy story and we’re supposed to just -”

“Accept it. You know as well as I do that if our girl didn’t write or call, it’s because she couldn’t. When you think of it that way, it makes perfect sense.” Youko nodded to emphasize her point. “Besides, when have you ever known her to lie.”

“She’s terrible at that,” Mitsuhide added drily.

Minoru’s scowl deepened. “Don’t talk like you know her. Maybe you drugged her or something, and now she thinks all that is true.”

Mitsuhide sighed. He’d expected this kind of reaction after Sasuke and his little one explained what ‘meeting the parents’ entailed. He was beginning to wish he could have simply sent some gifts and a contract, or better yet, left that to Nobunaga and simply married the girl. “We did bring some proof with us today, and we have friends tomorrow who can vouch for everything.”

Youko gave Mitsuhide an encouraging smile. “Why don’t you go get it? I’m sure it will make Mino a little less grouchy.”

“I’m not grouchy,” Minoru grumbled.

“You are, papa. But it’s ok. This is really all my fault. I wish I’d been able to call you both. I missed you so much.”

Her father swallowed whatever he’d planned to say, touched by his daughter’s affection.

Mitsuhide went to their bags and grabbed his sword and the clothes he’d arrived in. He carried them back to the dining area. These were unlikely to be enough, he thought, but it wasn’t as if they’d planned to be swept to this time that night.

“Our clothes -” he set them down, “and my sword.”

Minoru poked at the clothing, unimpressed. The sword, however, got his attention. “This . . . it isn’t just some decorative piece . . .” The words were quiet, said more to himself than anyone.

Still, Mitsuhide answered. “No. That blade has taken many lives.”

“And saved some too,” his little mouse added. “Mine included.”

Minoru looked between the two of them. “Maybe you’ve both lost your minds. This thing -” He pointed at the sword, “is clearly an antique, but that proves nothing.”

“You are so stubborn,” Youko huffed.

Mitsuhide was beginning to see where his little one got that quality. Sweetness from her mother, stubbornness from her father. It made him smile.

***

Miyake and Sasuke sat at a nearby bar, drinks in hand.

“So this is called karaoke?” Miyake eyed the screen with words that moved and then emptied his sake cup. “And I can sing whatever I want?”

“Not whatever. I doubt they have any songs you know on file. But I think the enjoyment quotient will still be high.” Sasuke began tapping through the song selection, his expression focused. He stopped when he came across one with the image of a pink-faced girl. “This one.”

Miyake shrugged. “Alright.”

The music started. It sounded nothing like the instruments Miyake knew, or the rhythms and beats that were familiar to him. Still, he could pick out the melody, and it was nice - if strange.

The first word on the screen lit up and Sasuke started singing. His voice was surprisingly pleasant, even though the lyrics were senseless.

Miyake joined him on the next verse, nodding to the beat. It was a cheerful tune, he thought. Perfect to drink to. He poured another glass for himself and the ninja.

They emptied that and another as the song ended. The next pick was Miyake’s. He chose one based on the picture, a cute girl in a ridiculously short skirt.

“This is the theme song for my favorite anime,” Sasuke grinned.

“Then I picked a good one?”

Sasuke patted his arm. “A great one.”

Two hours later, both of them were too drunk to walk straight. Their singing got louder as their ability to pronounce the lyrics dwindled.

“Todokete atsuku naru omi . . .” The song dissolved into drunken laughter.

Miyake threw an arm around Sasuke. “Y-you’re my besht - besht fren.”

Sasuke leaned into the hug. “N-now I have two! Two besht frienz - friends.” He grinned but the expression slid into a sad frown.

“Wha - what ish it?” Miyake peered at the ninja’s face. “Need more sake?”

“I - I wish my other fren wash here,” Sasuke hiccuped. “An Shingen. I wash goin- going to take him to a hoshpital.”

Miyake nodded, though he didn’t understand. “Maybe nexsht time?”

“If he livesh,” Sasuke sighed.

“To Shingen,” Miyake poured them another round of sake. “And nexsht time!”

They drank to the toast.

Sasuke poured another. “And to friendsh we lef-left behind.”

They drank to that too.

After several more toasts that grew further away from the original point - to short skirts and lady’s stockings, to coffee, to the karaoke bar - the two men finally paid their tab and stumbled to the hotel.

Miyake nearly puked on the elevator, as the movement made his stomach flip. He would have taken the stairs, if he thought he could find the steps. He leaned on Sasuke as they walked down the hall. It felt like their room was miles away.

Sarutobi fumbled with the lock, and when the door opened, they fell inside.

Between leaning on each other and the walls, they managed to stand again.

“I’m go-gonna shower,” Miyake mumbled.

“Me nexsht,” Sasuke agreed. He tripped toward the beds and fell into the nearest one, face first.

Miyake made it to the shower, but didn’t manage to turn it on. He slumped to the floor and leaned his head back on the cool tiles, falling into a deep sleep.

Next: Middle Ground

#ikemen sengoku #ikesen mitsuhide #mitsuhide akechi #ikesen sasuke #otome guys #otome #fanfiction #fanfic #fluff

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comehomeducklings · 3 years

Text

Present [Part 1] (Obsession)

A/N: Please don't copy, redistribute, and/or post my work on this site or any others. This has taken my time and creativity to come up with the story's characters and plot.

Also, I swear my writing gets better. It's a little rough right now but I'm planning on rewriting them.

Tom Riddle's Moodboard

Main Character's Moodboard

~////////////////𓆙////////////////~

1943 ~ 6th year

No sound above whispers could be heard throughout the great hall. The food on the table hasn't been touched by a single hand. The very thought of eating churning all our stomachs. Not during these times. Our heads turn every now and then, afraid of what might sneak up behind us. The death of Myrtle and others has shaken the entire school. A murderer is among us, trust is such a foreign concept now.

Dark purple eye-bags lay beneath every single student's eyes. No one is allowed to go home for the holidays. They aren't allowing us to leave, we are stuck in this cloud of darkness and uncertainty. No owls are supposed to be sent out. As the head girl, I'm responsible for every student's life and responsibilities. I have to know where everyone is at all times. It gets tiring at times, but necessary nonetheless.

A nightly routine consisted of all my dormmates huddling around each other. No sleep would come to us all night. We wouldn't move from the same spot until light shown from the windows. Our beds are all pressed together in the farthest corner of the room from the door. Our wands never leaving our hands in case of danger. Every little sound made from the outside provoking us. Even to the point of going mad. Potions used to stay awake, slowly wearing off as the morning arose. No sleep, we can't afford that luxury anymore.

I would leave the dorm to wait at the portrait for our assigned house professor to come. They would tell me it was safe for everyone to head to the great hall to get breakfast. As soon as they were done I quickly went to everyone's dormitory to wake them up, if they even slept at all. I would then inform them that it was safe to step out of their dorms. After everyone got situated I would have the students form a line and lead them towards the great hall. 1st-3rd years would occasionally hold the folds of my robes. Fearing that when they blink I would be gone. Leaving them alone to deal with the dangers that lurk in the school.

Not once have I lied about how they are going to be all right. That would be cruel. These students don't seek pathetic nurturing words, they want a protective force watching over them. So many clubs and activities have been canceled. Hogsmede and quidditch proving as a prime example. No one complained though, quidditch players too afraid to even step out of the castle's walls even if they were allowed.

Back to the present, I hold my good friend's hand as she slightly shakes from anxiety. I can see it in her eyes, the doubt of making it alive eating away at her brain. The spark once present in her shiny green eyes being blown out. Amelia, her name being. She's been biting her nails again, to the point where it had bled. This can be backed by the dried-up blood that is present at the tip of her finger's nail.

A booming voice can be heard, "You are now being dismissed to head to class, your houses head girl and boy will be assigning the group you'll be heading off with."

First period has been removed from every perfect and head's schedule. During this time we search the whole castle for any wanders. We make sure everyone is where they are supposed to be. If someone got lost or went to the wrong class we escort them to where they need to be.

After every class, students have a limited amount of time to get to their next lesson. Although, perfects and heads get more time to make sure everyone is where they are needed quickly. Then we hurry to our class after scanning the halls swiftly.

The once safest school of the wizarding world giving birth to the dark ages. More bodies have been found littering the schools. Most of them not found until their ghosts appear before us. Every single one not knowing how they died. Like the murderer is invisible upon meeting the victim. I originally suggested it could have been done by poison. When the bodies were checked, no traces of poison had been traced.

Professors have been waiting for the person who is responsible to slip up, to give us a clue. I don't think that will happen though. The process of these killings has been too thought out and well planned. I wouldn't be surprised if these mass killings have been planned months before, even maybe years. I've been talking to the ghosts to try and gather all details, even the potentially useless ones. When our headmaster made us heads keep tabs on everyone, the killings stopped for a short amount of time. It was like the mastermind was creating a way to best us, to get past the "little inconvenience." It didn't take long for them to find the weak parts in the plan.

What we have got though, is that every single student killed has been a muggle-born. A classic case of an unfair stigma around the poor wizards and witches. They never were able to catch a break. Amelia, one of my close friends in the friend group. She's a muggle-born, hence the shaking of her hands. I've been keeping a closer eye on her, she doesn't leave my side. She comes on my patrols so I can keep her in my sights, with of course the permission of the teachers. There are only two times that I can not watch over her. Those two times are covered by my other friend Devyn, a pure-blood. She also helps keep her safe, not letting her go anywhere by herself. The two times are because she's in two different classes than I am. One of them being a study hall.

~////////////////𓆙////////////////~

"Professor, how will this class help us now? Reading teacups for predictions should be the least of our worries right now," a student at the back of the room exclaims.

"The said predictions could lead us to the future before it happens. Our worries lay exactly what will happen in the future. If anything, this is one of the most important classes we'll take this year," I say, continuing to read the teacup.

"Precisely, thank you. Now go back to studying, I'll be coming around to view your interpretations."

My tea leaves look more like a blob with a cross going through them. A weirdly shaped blob. I already know there is a cross, but what about the blob? I tried shaking it a little, looking at the leaves from different angles. I already crossed off a club, falcon, and the sun. It could be an acorn, but I see a slight hole in the blob.

Could it be...

"A skull that is." I jump at the sudden voice near my ear. My teacup almost falling from my grasp.

"Pardon, a what?"

She points towards two holes in the blob, one of them I just mentioned, "I saw you already found one hole, there's the other. How it's shaped could be a little difficult to see since the cross is through it, but it's there."

The professor takes the cup from my hand and lays it on her desk. Some of my classmates look at me in curiosity, but they soon lose interest and go back to their own tea leaves.

A cross and a skull, that sounds about right to how my school year is going so far. I scan my book to see exactly what they mean.

A skull, danger in your path.

A cross, trials and suffering.

"What d-did you find?" A Hufflepuff boy to my right asks.

I don't want to scare the poor boy, he's already frightened enough as it is. If my future got around to the school, everyone would start being concerned about me. I'll barely get any of my duties done if I didn't already get it taken away for my safety. Last thing I need right now is even more panic.

"Nothing much, the future is still a little foggy."

"That's, um, good. I couldn't really read mine either," he chuckles lightly, almost seemingly forced.

Our professor claps her hands together, "Class is dismissed, read up about your predictions if you haven't already. No homework today."

I gather my books and push in my chair. Right before I could reach the door where other students are waiting, the teacher stops me.

"I'll have to tell the headmaster about this, I shouldn't keep it a secret."

"No, please don't. If you must, only tell Albus. I can't have this messing anything up, I'll become vulnerable."

The professor looks around the room, her eyes wandering franticly. I'm sure I am asking a lot from her. I really need her to keep this a secret.

"Oh alright, you're my best student. I just would hate to see anything happen to you. I'm informing only Albus to see if he can keep an eye on you."

"Thank you so much, I swear I'll be careful." A huge weight is lifted off my shoulders. I can't be worrying about my future when I have to worry about everyone else's.

I leave the classroom and start heading to my next class. Potions have always been one of my favorite classes. Mixing a bunch of toxins into a pot is a specialty of mine. I'm quickly scanning the halls for any wanderers, making sure everyone is at class. My feet take me to Potions in a hurry. I don't want to miss much, trying to make the class as informational as possible.

"You shouldn't be running, you still have 3 minutes of checking the school."

It's always him, I even tried changing routes to avoid him. His idiotic smirk, thinking he actually did something. All he did is waste my time and train of thought.

"I'm allowed to run Riddle, it's not a rule. I already checked the halls I was assigned, did you?" I really have no energy for this.

Tom peers down at me, somehow still wearing that infamous smile. Eyes bright, filled with mischief and knowledge.

"I have, double-checked as well. I'm sure you only checked once. Such irresponsible actions, I still wonder how you nabbed the head-girl spot."

I choose not to answer, not giving in to his baiting. Does he think I'm that stupid? That easily bothered by a simple test of my patience.

"You could have just said you wanted to walk me to class Riddle. No need to be shy with me."

"Shy, a concept I would not know of. Might as well bring you to class, since I'm heading there myself. Wouldn't want you to be in danger, since you consistently prove you can't handle a simple check of the hallways."

"I told you Tom-"

"Once is not enough, you should know that by now," he interrupts me, feigning a sudden serious facade on.

We start heading towards Slughorn's room. I'm a little behind his figure. Mostly looking down to make sure I don't step over his feet and fall. He sometimes walks with me, very confusing if I may say. Hating my skills, probably still hates me. You can often find us arguing if we are ever partners in class together. The usual game we play, how many questions can we get right by the end of class. Last time he won by one point, my sour mood not helping the atmosphere.

"You look rested, more than me at least," I smile tiredly. My whole body slightly sagging forward from exhaustion. He looks as proper as someone could be. His skin is a little pale though, brighter than usual. Almost like he was sick, his eyes look darker too. More sunken in, the shape of his skull more prominent. His looks still annoyingly well presented.

"Yes, you do look rather tired. I see other things have prioritized above your looks."

This man, the audacity of this man. The only reason I'm not at the top of every class. Our number 1 student count being evenly split. I have to bite down on my tongue forcefully to not say anything back. I'm too tired to truly come back with anything witty, so I choose to save myself from the embarrassment. Instead, I slightly step on his robe on the ground causing him to trip up a little.

He quickly sends a warning glare my way and then continues walking. I smile slightly, knowing even if it was petty, it was worth it.

Riddle doesn't even hold the door for me when we walk in. Causing it to slam dangerously close to my face.

"There you two are, I was afraid you weren't going to make it," Slughorn exclaims excitedly. "Turn your textbooks to page 246, we are going to learn how to make a Polyjuice potion!"

I glance at Tom, his eyes only focus on the words before him not realizing my gaze is on him. I wonder if he'll make this a competition as well. Knowing him, as well as me, anything but competition is out of our character. He looks up catching my eyes, I tilt my head. Trying to silently communicate from afar.

His head turns to Slughorn, then back to me. He nods his head and that's all it takes for both of us to come to an understanding. Whoever can answer the most questions, and create the best potion gets bragging rights.

I don't intend to lose.

#tom riddle x oc #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #lord voldemort #hogwarts #wizard #post wizarding war #enemies to allies #enemies to lovers #angst #oc #poc #Oc is any race #horcrux #moldy voldy

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aressss1 · 3 years

Text

Through Fire and Ice Chapter 10

(Technoblade x Reader)

Chapter 10

< Prev Chapter | Next Chapter >

~~~~~~

“You’re going to love it when you see it.” You could hear the giddiness in Dream’s voice. His hands were over your eyes as you, Sapnap and Dream walked to where they had been building your house.

“Dream’s been working on this for days now.” Sapnap chuckled, “I helped a little bit.” You couldn’t help but smile at their excitement. You could feel Dream’s puffs of air hitting the back of your neck, his touch cool on your skin. When he led you to a full stop and he turned you, with his hands still over your eyes. He pressed his body against yours as he whispered in your ear. You could feel the heat rise up on your neck.

“I hope you like it,” His voice causing shivers to run down your spine. “A home fit for a princess.” With that he takes his hands off of your eyes and you open them. In front of you was a home planted inside the wall just like everyone else had, but this one had a tiny, enclosed porch, with little planter boxes for you to garden in. Big circular shaped windows on either side of the front door stared at you as if they were eyes. The dark oak door had a circular frame, and two blue lanterns hung from the overhang of the porch on each side.

“I-I can’t accept this Dream,” You sputtered out turning to face him.

“Sure you can! Dream’s done way better stuff than this for people.” Sapnap chimed in chuckling at the blush on your cheeks. “This is child’s play compared to what he’s even done for a lot of the people in our old village.” Sapnap scratched the back of his head. He didn’t go on when Dream cleared his throat, his eyes meeting Sapnap’s almost as if to tell him to shut up.

“If you don’t want to accept it for free, I’ll make you a deal? How do you feel about that?” Biting your lip, you look back toward the beautiful house just waiting for you to walk inside. Hesitantly nodding, your eyes flit back to Dream. You could see his grin behind the mask, the sight making your heart flutter. “I’m sure you’ve heard of the festival going on tonight? To mark the one-month anniversary of us all moving down here?” He cocked his head at you. You shook your head. Dream was the first one to bring it up. Niki was too busy to think about anything else other than cooking and helping out at the hospital, and Techno didn’t know much about social gatherings in general nor did he care much at the thought, let alone when they were going to be, but you were the same way.

“I don’t talk to a lot of people.” You shrugged and you heard him chuckle.

“Alright…” He cupped your cheek, “How about you come to the festival with me? Then it’ll be even.” His voice almost took on a sultry tone. You could see the hope in his eyes from behind the mask. You gave him a deadpan stare.

“That doesn’t really seem fair.” You were confused when Sapnap shook his head sighing at you. What did you do? This caused a laugh to come from Dream, his thumb stroking across your cheek.

“Don’t pay attention to him,” he jerked his head toward Sapnap. “You wanna come to the festival with me?” His hand drops from your face. You ponder over his question. You remembered Techno wanted to build your house for you, he had actually asked you what you wanted for your house. Guilt twisted in your gut about Techno, well at least he didn’t have to worry about another thing to do. Looking up at Dream you nodded, it was the least you could do to repay his kindness. He lifted his mask, and you could see the excitement in his green eyes. “Tonight is gonna be a good one princess.” He took your hand pulling you toward the house.

The inside of the house was well built, and somewhat furnished. Still trying to get over the fact that Dream had called you princess, you followed them and listened to every word they had to say. Sapnap kept showing you everything that he had built. Overall, it was a nice home, what drew your eye was the fully stocked bookshelves and you found yourself gravitating toward that more than anything.

“I know how you like your books, so I got what I could from around here.” Dream stood by your side as you allowed your fingers to trace over the spines of the books on the shelves. Sapnap muttered that he would be right back, and he left out the front door hastily.

“Why are you doing any of this for me Dream?” Your eyes never left the books on the bookshelves, but you could feel his eyes boring into you.

“I want you to know you have friends who have your back,” Dream explained after a few seconds of processing your questions. “Having a home is the first step to being comfortable.” He half shrugged. “This is where I want you to make your memories.” He let out a chuckle. “I think my first good memory of this place is when your face lit up when you saw it.” His shoulder nudged yours. You weren’t able to hide your blush from him and he led you to the small couch.

“Who made the furniture?” You ask your hand grazing over a nearby end table.

“George did,” Dream sat on the couch throwing his arm over the back of the couch. He kicked his feet out in front of him, one boot resting on the other. “He wanted to help at his pace.” You sat next to Dream, his face illuminated by a lantern hanging above your heads. He took his mask and haphazardly threw it on the coffee table in front of him. You felt honored that he took his mask off in front of you. He didn’t do that often it seemed.

You didn’t know how much time had passed but a golden clock on the wall glared at you when your eyes met it. Oh no… You were late in helping Niki out.

“Uhh… Dream, this has been amazing, but I have to go, please tell Sapnap I said thank you.” You pushed yourself up from the couch, and Dream stood with you. He towered over you, and his green eyes searched your face. “Where should I meet you for tonight?” His chuckle sent butterflies to your stomach as he cupped your cheek.

“Meet me here princess.” His tone was smooth, and his thumb brushed over your cheek. “I’ll come by sometime after your route.” Your cheeks heated up under his hand and you pushed forward giving him a hug which he returned. The hug enveloped you, and you gave a content sigh.

“Thank you for everything Dream.” You pulled away from him, tucking the hair in your face behind your ear. He fished around his pocket for a half second and he held out a set of keys to you.

“I’m glad you like your new home!” His smile was genuine, and you take the keys from his hands. It had been a very long time since you were able to call anywhere home. Returning his smile as you clutched the keys to your chest you moved past him and out the door. Booking it to Niki’s, you see a familiar red cloak standing next to your already loaded up cart.

“Heh?” Techno cocked his head at you. “You’re late nerd.” He teased. His eyes worriedly ran over your figure, not that you noticed. You weren’t hurt, but you usually were never late. Techno was wondering if he should have been out looking for you. He had gotten the cart prepared in your absence to keep his mind busy.

“Sorry,” you huffed out, your hands rested on your knees as you caught your breath. “Dream, Sapnap and George made me a house and Dream and Sapnap took me to see it.” You explained. This made Techno’s heart sink. When he wasn’t busy, he was planning out your house. His talks with you about your house were for nothing. You had even wanted to help him build it. Gritting his teeth, he turns to the cart, grabbing onto the handle to pull it.

“I see…” He kept his voice as even as possible, but you heard the disappointment in his voice.

“I know you wanted to do it, but this was kind of a surprise to me.” You shrugged nudging his shoulder with yours. “It’s not something that needs to be done anymore. We can spend our time doing other things, like mining.” He perked up at that as the two of you set off on your route. The two of you talking as you went.

“So, Dream said there’s a festival going on tonight do you wanna come?” You asked as you handed out the food to the people on the street.

“Is Dream taking you to the festival?” Techno peered down at you, as an old woman took the box of food from your hands. He had known about the festival. Phil had been planning it for a few days now. It wasn’t important to Techno, but the excitement he heard in your voice piqued his interest.

“Yeah, I’m assuming with George and Sapnap too. I want you to come too.” You shrugged as Techno struggled to swallow down the lump in his throat. “You’ve been working too hard on the mine and helping me. A night of fun is exactly what you deserve.” You beamed up at him. Techno didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want to say no to you, but he felt it would ruin your night if he was there. But… Like hell would he allow Dream to do as he pleases. If he didn’t show up, he would be giving Dream exactly what he wanted, and Techno was spiteful toward Dream.

“Alright…” He grumbled; he wasn’t liking the fact that he was going to have to be social. The smile that spread on your face when he agreed, was worth it though. He kept quiet as you greeted the people who approached you for their rations. You happily handed the people their boxes of food, waving them off, missing the way they would side eye Techno. Sometimes they even had the gall to look between the both of you. Dirty assumptions playing across their minds.

‘They are nothing.’

‘Slaughter.’

‘Protect her.’

The voices had their demands, not that he would give in to some of them. Even so, he would move in a nonchalant way, to obscure their view of you when their thoughts played out across their faces as plain as day. You kept making your way to people, handing them piping hot boxes of food. When you continually greeted people and asked about their days, Techno had zoned out, the small talk grating on him. You made it look easy. He wasn’t one for talking to people in general.

The two of you were deep in the residential area of the Burrow when you ran out of boxes. You thought that this was the perfect time to show Techno your new home. When the two of you were on your way back to Niki’s you pointed out the house to him, which caused him to huff in annoyance.

“Don’t be so grumpy,” You nudged his shoulder. “I’ll let you build onto it how bout’ that? Anything you want to build on it.” Your eyes met his and he nodded contentedly. A smile spread on your face as you fished around your pocket. You held the keys to your house in the palm of your hand. Separating the two keys you held one out for him to take.

“You’re letting me have a key to your house?” Techno cocked his head at you. His heart thumped in his chest, and he took the dangling key from your hand, tucking it into one of his own pockets. The voices in his mind sounded off, projecting his worries on how you were too trusting, giving him a key to your home.

“Yeah, why not? You’re literally my best friend.” An embarrassed blush spread over your cheeks, and Techno felt his heart flutter. You could feel his golden eyes on you, and you acted like you didn’t notice.

“Hm,” Techno grunted as he nodded in response, not knowing how to respond to that. His body gravitated closer to yours, the back of your hand just barely touching his. Resisting the urge to wrap your hand around his, you cleared your throat. There was a comfortable silence between the two of you until you got back to Niki’s bakery. You still had the second half of the route left to complete, but with Techno there you didn’t mind.

After finishing the route, both you and Techno, made your way back to your new home, to meet up with Dream. Looking around he wasn’t around your home so you shrugged and figured you could show Techno around the place. You opened the door and pulled him in. He looked around with almost uninterested eyes. While you looked up at him and deadpanned at the fact that his head almost hit the ceiling. You knew he was tall but… He had to be over seven feet tall…

While you were busy gawking at him over his height, he looked around his eyes scanning over your bookshelves. His eyebrows furrowed at things that he didn’t exactly like, little things, things that could be exploited. Small holes in the wood, that could be used to spy on you. He inspected the windows, to see how easily someone could get in. He already wanted to install a deadbolt on the front door the moment he walked in.

“I’m making you a weapon’s rack, for when we start making your weapons.” Techno stated. You knew better than to argue with him. You threw your hands up, while a smile pulled at your lips.

“I told you that you could add anything you like around here,” You leaned against the wall watching him. He entered the kitchen, staring at a blank wall at the end of the house. He had plans, but he was going to build a door to something similar to Phil’s ‘backyard’ for you.

A sharp knock rang out in the air. Standing up from the wall you open the door as you see Dream standing there, a flower vase filled with lilies, in his hands. You could see the grin stretching across his face when the door opened.

“Hey princess,” Dream chuckled as he held out the vase for you. “Are you ready to have the time of your life tonight?” You felt Techno’s presence approach behind you as you took the vase into your hands.

“Well, I’m flattered you noticed the crown on my head Dream, but you don’t really have to call me princess.” Techno bent down so his eyes were level with Dreams. His joke caused you to giggle as you walked over to the end table next to the couch. You completely missed Dream and Techno’s stare down. “Wouldn’t miss this night for the world.” Techno narrowed his eyes as he said it.

Dream’s hands clenched and unclenched, and his shoulders slightly shook in a silent anger at seeing the hybrid standing in front of him. The sight soothed Techno, and he chuckled and straightened up and cocked his head at Dream. He regained his composure when you turned back around to look at them.

“Thank you again for everything Dream.” You walked over to the two of them. Unaware of what had gone down, just a second before. “Are we all ready to go?” Dream cleared his throat as he nodded, his eyes scanning Techno.

“Yep.” Dream gave a small sigh as he turned around and walked down the steps of the porch, waiting for you and Techno to join him. You locked your door behind Techno, hearing a satisfying click. You were the first to descend down the steps to Dream. You planted yourself in between the two men as you started off toward the town square. “I didn’t think festivals were your thing Techno.” Dream spoke up, side eyeing Techno through his mask.

“Well, you see,” Techno started, “I’m tryin’ to be more social.” Techno gave a half shrug. “I also don’t want to miss out on all the fun.” Techno jeered at him; he was having fun ruining his plans. Dream picked up on Techno’s double meaning, and he grit his teeth.

“I see…” Dream nodded, “had I known I would have invited you myself.” You looked between the both of them, quietly listening to their conversation.

“I’m sure,” Techno rolled his eyes. It was going to be a long night…

The night was filled with friends, games, and drinks. Niki had joined your group for the night, opting to drink with you. Dream had found Sapnap and George and was conversing with them throughout the night. Every once in a while, Dream’s gaze would wander to you and he would give a tiny wave, and you would wave back. As the night grew on and you had gone to dance with Niki, you felt yourself stumbling, the haze of the alcohol overtaking your mind.

You spent most of the night with both Techno and Dream. Wilbur and Tommy kept Techno company when you weren’t with him. They noted the way he watched over you. Seeing his eyes scan the crowd for anyone who would do harm to you, as per the voices in his minds request. They were instantly scheming, on ways to get you two together.

“Techno, come on, Fundy’s got this drinking game, I think your girl’s playing with Niki,” Wilbur pulled on Techno.

“She’s not my girl, Wilbur.” Techno sighed. The large crowd around him, was almost too much. Between that and the voices, he felt a little bit overstimulated.

“Yet!” Wilbur said as he pointed upwards to accentuate the word. “Come on, it’ll be fun.” Wilbur raised his eyebrows at the hybrid. Techno looked back and forth between you and him. You had been mid drink when he looked over at you. He sighed, and nodded grumbling to himself as he made his way over to you. That was when Will noticed Dream heading over to your table as well. “Tommy, you gotta distract Dream.” Will’s head snapped over to Tommy as he nodded his head in Dream’s direction.

“What do you want me to do man?” Tommy asked his eyes landing on Dream’s approaching form. A look of panic almost reaching his eyes. Will just pushed him toward Dream in a hurry.

“Anything, just be yourself, and don’t let him near them.” Will whispered to him. He watched as Tommy walked up to Dream in his boisterously confident way. His arms outstretched and he gave a big toothy grin to the man he needed to distract.

“Dream! Mah friend!” Tommy practically shouted, slapping a hand down on Dream’s shoulder. “How ya been? Come on, I got something to show ya! We gotta find Tubbo!” Tommy pulled Dream away and Wilbur watched as Dream turned to look at both you and Techno. He held his breath when Dream tried to pull away, but Tommy had insisted. A sigh of relief escaped him as Dream gave into Tommy, following him to wherever Tommy was bringing him to.

Will headed over to your table only to sit next to Niki. He watched for Dream so he could distract him next if need be. You were already slurring your words, but you cuddled up closer to Techno practically leaning on him, and that brought a smile to Will’s face. Techno needed someone in his life and those close to him knew it, even if Techno denied it. Dream seemed to get everything he wanted, well… Not this time. Wilbur would make sure of it. At least for tonight.

You pulled at Techno’s hands, trying to get him to come with you to the dancing area. Swaying a tiny bit, your eyes begged him, even when he looked over at the other dancers in discomfort. He could definitely hold his alcohol better than you. He didn’t want to deny you, but others could use this against you… He didn’t want to make you a target like he was.

“Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaassssssseee??” Your whine knocked him out of his thoughts. “When are we ever going to do this again?” Techno let a sigh out and he stood from his seat, leaving his cloak on his chair. His hand was still in yours as you led him to the other dancers. You got into your positions, this wasn’t any ballroom dance by any means, the music was too fast paced for that, people locked arms and spun around to the tempo of the music and the two of you followed suit. He kept you steady, even as you were tripping on your own feet due to the alcohol.

Techno reveled in your laugh as the two of you danced, the outside world was quickly shut out when he focused soley on you. Keeping you upright, keeping you happy. It made him feel things that he hadn’t felt in a very long time. Your hands on his arms felt right and that’s when he knew, that he would do anything for you, for your happiness.

All this time fighting, adventuring… None of it had the satisfaction of when you held him closer. When he caught you staring up at him, with a blush on your face. He had lived a life that many dreamed of, but he only dreamed of you, and he found you.

You stumbled on your own feet once more, and he was there to catch you when you fell, and you fell right into his chest. Both your movements stopped, as if time for the two of you was standing still, even as the others around you still spun in their dances. You laughed at your own clumsiness, letting out a little snort. That was enough to send Techno in a fit of laughter on his own. He watched as your cheeks reddened and you buried your face into his chest in embarrassment while you still laughed. This was a perfect moment that Techno would cherish forever.

Dream walked back to the festival, a bit peeved at Tommy who was still yammering in his ear about something. Tommy had led him to Tubbo’s bee farm. To show him bees of all things, while he looked for Tubbo. Why was this so important now? Any other time would have been fine but right now during a festival? Dream shook his head sighing. He was supposed to be with you, and you were off doing who knows what with Techno.

“Tommy, I don’t actually give a fuck right now.” Dream interrupted Tommy’s ramblings as he turned to the boy to his right. This earned a scoff from Tommy, who put a hand on his chest trying to look affronted.

“Oh, come on Dream, that’s rude.” Tommy started to say but he was interrupted again.

“I had something to do when you pulled me away, isn’t that rude too?” Dream sighed rubbing at his eyes. “Listen, any other time would have been good, but this isn’t a good time.” He tried putting on a more comforting tone. “Just please let me go do what I need to do.” Tommy put his hands up and stepped away from him. He had done his job, maybe it was Wilbur’s time to shine. “Thank you.” Dream sighed and walked back to the main area where he had seen you last.

You and Techno were absent from your table and there still sitting at the table was Will and Niki looking in the direction of the dancing area with interest on their faces. Following their gazes, he clenched his fist at the sight. Techno stood there with you in his arms, you pressed up against him flush. You seemed to be falling asleep on him. Gritting his teeth, he just watches. Techno slid an arm underneath your legs holding you to his chest bridal style. That was enough for Dream.

He left, the festival still raging around him. He went to go find Sapnap and George. When he finally found the two, he felt numb and angry. After everything that he did for you… Techno? No… He just needed to step up his game. Show you just how dangerous Techno was. The memory that itched across Dream’s face was enough evidence that Techno was dangerous, that all he did was destroy things. He didn’t want that piglin to destroy you, and he would do anything to keep you out of that monster’s reach.

Sapnap and George greeted him, with Sapnap asking him if he had been with you. He shook his head. The disappointment that played across their faces was almost too much. George gave Dream a reassuring look.

“I’m sure you’ll get her; you’re Dream after all.” George offered. “And the Dream I know always gets what he wants.” He laughed as his grip tightened on Dream’s shoulder. Dream sighed. His eyes landing on Sapnap.

“Want to make some chaos?” Dream asked, he didn’t want to do what he was about to do. But he needed to pull out all the stops. Techno couldn’t control himself in certain moments and you would be in the middle of that if he didn’t stop it.

“What’s up?” A smirk pulled at Sapnap’s lips the moment Dream mentioned chaos.

“I think we should let everyone know we have a pig fucker in our midst.”

You were out like a light in his arms, it was only when he unlocked your door with his key and he stepped in your new bedroom, did you wake up.

“Mm, Techno?” You still slurred a bit, but your eyes fluttered open as you focused in on his face.

“I’m here,” His voice was barely above a whisper. He brought you over to your new bed, reluctantly setting your body down. His eyes met yours and you reached out for him.

“Stay… Please…?” Your voice came out like a whimper, and he could do nothing but nod as he sat down on the bed, pulling the covers over you. It didn’t seem to be enough for you because you sat up, and tried to pull the covers on him, your head sinking to his shoulder as you tried but failed to do so. Techno let out a chuckle. This was something he was getting used to, but you were never so bold about it before. He laid down with you, after taking his mask off, your head still on his chest.

You felt the room spinning around you and the only thing that kept you grounded was Techno’s hold on you. It was quite a while before you spoke again.

“Thanks for tonight Tech,” You whispered into his neck, before planting a kiss to where his pulse could be felt. This made Techno freeze. Feeling your lips on his skin was something he had wanted for weeks now. But there was just one problem.

“You’re drunk.” Techno’s monotone voice rang out in the room. He pulled away to look you in the eyes. This made you giggle.

“So…?” Your eyes searched his, lips slightly grazing his. All you had to do, was push forward… And you did. Your lips crashed down on to his, and you saw the look of surprise in his eyes before you closed your own. Techno took a shaking hand trying to decide on deepening the kiss or pulling away from you. Unbeknownst to you, his eyes flooded black, his silver irises drinking the sight of you in, and his urges took over.

‘Ruin her’

‘Take her’

‘Make her yours.’

Between everything he wanted, and the voices it should have been easy to fall into the kiss. But no… He pulled away from you. Gently setting you on the mattress, he got up from the bed. His hands clenching and unclenching. He couldn’t… Not while you were like this.

“Techno?” The sound shattered his heart. You sounded hurt. If this went on everyone involved would regret it. He couldn’t do that to you.

“I-” Techno stammered. “I’m sorry…” With that he grabbed his mask and walked to the door. “I’ll be right out here. I’m not leaving… I just can’t do this right now…” He hoped you understood, hoped you wouldn’t remember this in the morning, but yet he hoped you did…

The rest of the night, was nothing but pain… He heard you cry yourself to sleep. He desperately wanted to go in there, kiss your tears away, tell you he wanted to be with you. But no, he listened to your crying on the other side of the door. He wasn’t sure if he could hold himself back if he went back in there. It was better if he kept an eye on you from outside your door. The voices shouting at him a million miles a minute.

The night crept by and Techno did not sleep.

#technoblade x reader #technoblade/reader #c!techno x reader #techno fanfic #c!techno #angst #through fire and ice #dream x reader #dream mcyt #mcyt x reader

126 notes · View notes

the-huntress · 3 years

Text

Little Moth - Chapter 4 - As The Snow Fell

[Thank you so much to everyone that has read, liked and re-blogged the chapters and master list of my fanfic so far, I really appreciate all the support!]

Masterlist

Y/N Protagonist, female. Reader X Karl Heisenberg. [18+]

Summary: You’ve barely even set foot into the village and have already had a taste of the unusual residents and otherworldly beings. Is there anyone that you can trust?

Trigger Warnings: Threat, theft.

Soundscape Ambience Suggestions:

Medieval Ruins Ambience

Quiet Tavern Ambience

[Photos are my own]

You woke with a start, the white canvas of the morning sky blinding you as a crow cawed from above. You cast you gaze about bleary eyed, taking in your surroundings. You were back at your camp, but mightily dishevelled, half your clothes on, half off, and various parts exposed to the elements. The last embers of the fire burned, soft wafts of smoke dying down.

What the hell happened last night? You wondered, casting your thoughts back and rubbing your face, feeling almost as if you had a hangover. Fixing your clothes, you turned your attention to your equipment and the camp. Anything that wasn’t necessary to have on you today you bagged back up into your luggage bag and pushed into the hollow of the tree that you had camped against; mostly some clothing, sleeping bag, tarpaulin… you paused as you got to the bow that the Duke had gifted to you, eyeing it up. As much as you felt safer with it, today you would have to try to be inconspicuous, and this weapon was not going to help with that. You stuffed it hastily as far bag into the hollow as you could, hooking it on a knot on the inside of the tree so that it hung safely, completely out of view, and then threw leaves over the bag.

The distance seemed shorter this time going towards the cliff edge that overlooked the village. You took out your binoculars from a pouch on your hip and got down onto your stomach to scout the area. From where you were you could easily see the castle with its spiky turrets in the distance, slightly shrouded by a fine mist at this hour. If it weren’t for the whole situation that you were in and the very obvious unease that this place was already causing you, you’d have maybe even called this gothic monster ‘beautiful’. Leading up to it were many small houses, each made slightly differently to the next, but somehow all similar. Some with thatched roofs, some tile, some metal. You were only at the brink of this village, but you could sense poverty from here, being used to living in a modern world and never feeling like you’d had to struggle too much for food or material needs. Your eyes were drawn to a route that should give you access easily into the village by way of going behind some of the closer buildings, and with a quick sweep, checking that no one was currently about, you decided to go now.

The village had a spattering of snow, less than a foot for sure, and for the most part it had been trodden down and thinned. Coming up to the first house you crouched down behind a small brick wall, which looked as though it had started to tumble over. Again, you couldn’t see anyone here, but you could definitely hear livestock; a pig and maybe some chickens. Peering over the top of the wall towards the house you noticed a washing line, its contents bouncing slowly in the slight breeze. There were yellowed white briefs, a petty coat, bonnets, a dress made out of material that looked itchier than it looked practical, and also a hooded cloak. You pondered for a moment if taking an entire line of clothes to disguise yourself was a good idea or not and then decided against it; you whipped the cloak down, it being very dull and drab in both colour and fabric, with no distinguishing features, and threw the large hood up over your head. It was big enough even to hide your eyes, the swells of fabric wrapping around your arms and body, providing more warmth as well as what you hoped would deter anyone from making too much notice of you. Your boots and trousers were visible, from the knee down, but nothing out of the ordinary.

Nearing the centre, you started to hear the sounds you’d expect to hear in a small village like this. The day was light enough to see everything clearly; a statue of a lady holding a sword and shield. Something about it sent a shiver down your back. It wasn’t that it looked creepy, it just felt… familiar somehow. This looked as though it was perhaps the centre of the village; a woman sat on a bench knitting, a couple of children played with a stick and hoop. That felt weird too. It was the turn of the millennium, and yet here children were playing with really outdated toys. A little way up you could see a hill rising with some gravestones dotted here and there to the left of it. Already you could feel the eyes of the children staring at you and the quiet clacking of the knitting needles had stopped. Keeping your head down, you carried on walking, your feet choosing to take you up the small hill, past the gravestones. You passed a strange wooden shine on your right, not daring to turn your head to look at the details right now, for you’d hoped that they people here might assume that you were one of them thus letting you become invisible. You’d had undercover jobs before that you’d excelled at, but things felt very different here. Every step you took made the feeling of foreboding grow stronger in you. Up ahead was a door depicting two characters, one looked like a woman, the other, you weren’t too sure, but it looked sturdy and as though it might lead to the great castle, so that didn’t seem like you’d be unnoticed if you tried that door. To the right a long alley way, but it looked to lead away from the village, and to the right again the iron gates into the grounds of a small church, with a bubble of people emerging from its doors now. Yes, you had to lay low and try not to turn heads, but you also needed information, maybe if you passed through this crowd as if you were going somewhere you could eavesdrop some clues.

You made your way over and saw a man dressed like a vicar of sorts standing at the church doors while the villagers left, his hands raised in the air and a grin on his face. His eyes were eerily shadowed with darkness, but this didn’t seem to deter his congregation.

“Thank you for coming to today’s assembly to pay our respects to our beloved saviour, Mother Miranda. Volunteers and the Heretic’s Judgement are to be held tomorrow at Mother’s church.”

Just then you accidentally bumped right into someone emerging from the crowd, the impact making you both exhaled audibly, and the villager dropping their item to the ground.

“I’m so sorry, are you ok?” You asked, seeing her face as she looked up to see whom she had bumped into. You mentally kicked yourself for being automatically nicely mannered when you could have just trundled past. Instead, you stopped to pick up what you saw now to be a small bouquet of flowers, seeing her smiling at you as you handed them to her.

“Oh yes, I’m quite alright.” She said warmly. She looked to be in her forties with grey blue eyes, mousy brown hair and bangs. “Are you?”

You were taken aback for a moment; you didn’t expect anyone to ask how you were. In all honesty you’d been better. “No damage done.” You smiled, making sure to pull the cloak over any item of clothing that might give you away for being from further afield than the next village or so. The church doors had closed, and the rest of the crowd had now disbanded into the rest of the village.

“You look to me like you could do with a hot meal and a warm bath. If you beg my pardon for saying so.” She took a step back and extended her hand. “I’m Luiza by the way.”

“Y/N.” You replied, shaking it. Is this a good idea? You asked yourself, but you couldn’t help but trust the woman.

“I was just about to lay these down in the cemetery, if you’d like to join me Y/N.” Luiza offered, indicating to the small bouquet. There was a look in her eyes, like she was trying to tell you something.

“Yes of course.”

The two of you made your way a little past the church and through some more iron gates, this time into a space that was on a slight slope with a couple of crypts and tombs. Checking around her to make sure that no one else was around, Luiza turned her eyes back to you slowly.

“You’re not from here.” She stated. You swallowed.

“No, I’m from the next town over, I’m passing through to –“

“Please. You’re not from here, your accent, your boots… but your eyes, your eyes are what really gave it away. If you’d ever lived near here, you’d never have the damn nerve to even come.” She waved a hand in the air, and yet looked remorsefully subdued. You didn’t quite know what to say.

You looked down to the ground, shame seeping in as if from the snow at your feet.

“I’m searching for a friend.” You said solemnly. “He’s here somewhere, at least, I think. I think that he came here on a lead; whether he’s here to help someone or it’s to do with something that concerns us… I’m not sure. But he’s been gone a while now, and I’d like to get him back home.” Saying it made it all the more real, and you could feel your throat growing tight. The whole time that you’d been speaking Luiza had listened intently, yet her face remained soft. Something twinkled in her pale eyes, a knowing.

“Do you have a picture, of your friend?” She asked.

“Yes.” You unzipped the RPD bag hanging at your side and carefully pulled the photo from the wallet inside. “His name is Leon, Leon Kennedy.” Luiza took the photo into her own hand carefully, studying it and then handed it back.

“You should come over for some dinner tonight Y/N. See that gate over there?” She pointed back towards the church but the opposite side from which you’d entered. “Through that gate, turn left and all the way up the hill. My husband and I are having goulash tonight, if that might tempt you.”

“With dumplings?”

“I can do them if you’d like.” She smiled, turning away to face a small gravestone. “Come after nightfall but be careful on your way.”

“I will.” You started heading back towards the church and then turned to ask, “Who is it? That you’re visiting I mean.”

“My daughter.” She replied.

You left Luiza at her daughter’s grave and felt your stomach rumble. The last 24 hours had been gruelling on your body, you were cramping with no pain relief, nor for your knee, which was already aching, a reminder of the stress you’d put it through the day before fighting that… beast, and then you remembered; the dream… what had happened? That was the same beast as the one you’d slain. But what, you’d resurrected it? You wondered what it meant, and then you started to recall what had happened after. Your cheeks burned red in an instant, spreading over your neck and ears. Confusion ultimately taking over. Well at least I’m warm now, you sneered at yourself, and then felt another rumble. I need food.

Luiza seemed like she could be a good ally to have here, and something told you that she recognised that picture of Leon; even if she was the only person that would help you out you felt happy that you had at least something potentially to go on. You headed back into the centre of the village, with the intention of heading back to your camp for another preserved snack and then it hit you; the smell of eggs and bacon. It was drifting up from somewhere a little way past the statue to the left and you followed it around without a care.

“The Fat Goose” The sign read above the door. It looked to be a small inn of sorts with a few townsfolk coming in and out, and in seemingly good spirits. You made sure that your hood was pulled back up over your eyes and made your way in. It was like many other humble pubs that you’d frequented here and there, mostly when visiting back home in England. A long bar at the back of the room, a door leading somewhere at the back, and the clientele sat hunched over round tables upon stools, leaning close to the fire, or shouting above one another at the bar itself. It wasn’t the busiest, but it seemed to be where the majority of the village had decided to spend their day if they did not have work to be done. You could see a couple of the villagers did indeed have meals here of all sorts; chicken, bread, cheese, and most importantly eggs and bacon. You could feel yourself salivating.

Keeping your head low you approached the barkeep, the Lei ready in your hand, and slid it across the surface towards him. “Eggs, bacon and ale, thank you.” You pushed your coin over to him. You’d been lucky, upon meeting the Duke he’d brought up local currency and exchanged what you’d made the mistake of purchasing at the airport.

The barkeeper was quietly suspicious, evident in the way that he eyed you up, taking a moment to pause cleaning the tankard in his hands to take the money and gave a nod back.

“We’ll bring it over to yer table.” He said, turning back to what he was doing. You chanced a glance around the room and decided to take a seat at a vacant table by the window. It felt like a safe spot; you could see the door and the bar, but you were also tucked into a corner out of the way, the only light cast by the fire on the other side of the room and a couple of candles over head in brackets.

The ale was with you in no time at all. You’d never actually drank ale before and weren’t expecting it to be the tastiest of drinks, but there wasn’t much choice here. The eggs and bacon shortly followed, filling the room with a smell that made you stomach growl again.

The door flew open and you suddenly noticed the difference between the warmth of the inn with the bite of the outside air. The chill swept into the pub with the figures of two men, both tall and brawny, but one much larger than the other. They seemed to be deep in conversation but trying to keep their voices to a murmur that they could only hear between themselves.

They were dressed similarly; the taller man’s clothes had more of a darker and subdued palette. He had a head of grey hair, and a beard to match, a broad forehead, kind eyes and a nose which looked as though it had been broken at least once. The shorter of the two, but by no means lacking in height had a similar long coat but in more earthy tones. His face was hidden by a dark brown leather hat of sorts, well-worn with a mess of dark hair streaked with grey. The other patrons went quiet as the men entered and then began nodding at them, some even tilting a hat, before going back to their business.

Something began stirring in your stomach and you looked down at your food, maybe the eggs were off? You looked up again, unconscious of being unable to stop watching them, or more specifically, the man with the hat. He definitely felt your gaze right at that moment as he slowly turned his face over his right shoulder to look at you from behind dark, circular shades hiding his eyes from view. Time seemed to stop. He was really looking, and you felt as though you were tumbling backwards down through the biggest chasm carved into the stars.

“Oh boy.” You breathed as the man suddenly turned his head back to reply to something that his towering friend had said, who in turn, then noticed you, glancing over his friend’s head. The feeling in your stomach had grown so intense that it felt as though it had now pummelled its way into your chest too. This felt like danger and sickness all wrapped into one. You had half a mind to leave now, but you knew that not only would that rouse more suspicion, you just also didn’t want to.

“Urias, Karl.” The bartender came over to the two men at the bar, “What can I get you?”

Sometime later a beautiful, red haired girl came to take your plate away. Despite being so hungry when you first came into the establishment, once the men had entered, you’d felt so nauseous that you’d barely been able to manage another bite. You tried to channel your thoughts, calm the storm in your stomach and ease your breathing. You were getting there, managing to ground yourself, but every few minutes your eyes were drawn back to that man, was he Urias or was he Karl? Which name suited him most? Urias sounded strong and noble, well he certainly looked strong. He pulled out a cigar and lit it, suddenly emitting raucous laughter from something that his friend said which shocked you out of your trance; and then he fell silent, starring at the other man so intensely that it scared you.

“You’re fucking kidding me?” He asked. The pub fell silent. You were so focused on the scene, as was everyone else that you neglected to notice the way your tankard had started to slowly drift up into the air along with everyone else’s.

“I’m sorry my friend, I am not. I am going to marry her.”

“God fucking damnit Urias!” He bellowed, slamming a fist down on the bar. Everything fell with a bang, ale sloshing over the tables and with that he stormed out of the pub. Urias rubbed a giant hand over his face, the skin gathering in mounds between each finger. The bartender brought over a new tankard, about three times the size of the regular ones and let it thud down in front of Urias.

“On the house, chief.”

Urias took it in his man-paw and without hesitation turned towards you, walking over.

“Are you going to tell me who you are then, fabled traveller. I can tell you come from very far away.” He sounded like how you imagined a talking bear to sound, deep and rumbly. He had a big, square chin, his jaw jutted out slightly, strong teeth, big lips and kind eyes. He poured a little of the ale from his giant vessel into your own, indicating for you to stay put. No one else in the pub seemed to be paying attention, at least not with their eyes, this man must have some hold or power over them.

“My name is Y/N, and I am looking for my friend.” You told him truthfully, face down, but eyes looking up at him. You were scared, for sure, but you wouldn’t let it show. You were here for a reason, you’d come this far, you weren’t going to leave without Leon, and you meant it. You slid the photo across the table to him and he took it tenderly, bringing it closer to his face, all that way up to take a look. He tilted his head to the side.

“Have you spoken to anyone else?” He asked, eyes flitting between you and the photo.

“One other.” You replied, not mentioning who.

“Y/A my name is Urias, as you might have heard my friend eloquently let the world know earlier. I am the chief of this village. My brother and I-“ He paused and looked down at his hands. “My brother and I came from a mountain clan, our blood line has been chief there for generations, but we wanted to see more of the world and make our mark, learn trades and earn our keep. We came to this village when we were both merely men grown, that was a long time ago now.” He had a faraway look in his eyes, turning now to look out of the window, it was already beginning to grow dark and a drift of snow had begun to descend once more. “We climbed the ranks here, doing what we could to help protect the village and its population…” He paused again in thought. “To help, however we could. It’s just me now, but I still want that, I still want to do what’s right for my people”

He took a deep drink from the tankard, which now that you were looking at it closely, looked more like a small barrel with a makeshift handle.

“Y/N I will help you however I can, but please understand this; this is no normal village, there are things at work here even I can’t quite explain. Tensions are very high, and an outsider coming in looking for a missing friend,” He tilted his head and gave a small chuckle, “Well, that’s not going to go down so well with some of the villagers, and especially not with the higher ups.”

“You mean Mother Miranda?” You asked bluntly. He swung his head to look you dead in the eyes.

“How do you know her name?”

“I did my research before I came; I don’t know much about her Urias, but I have a bad feeling about her.” Your cheeks burned from being so forward.

He laughed again, “You’re not the only one.” He muttered, casting you a careful sideways glance, taking you in some more. He looked like he was pondering or considering something. “There are a seldom few here that you can trust, so be careful. You can find me at my house, some of the folk they call it ‘the chief’s hut’, or else I’ll likely be here, at least for now.” His mind seemed to trail off somewhere else.

Noticing that night had indeed now fallen you bid your farewell and shook the giant’s paw and made your way outside into the chill of night, thankful for the stolen cloak wrapped around your frame.

You started around the side of the pub, back towards the route that would take you directly to Luiza’s house when something wrapped around your throat and shoved you against the wall. The breath was choked out of you upon impact and your hood fell, your hair falling down in-front of your eyes as you blinked them open, trying to see what had happened. Pain started spreading in your body; the cuts on your torso, your knee blazed and the cramps starting up again like knives. The thing around your throat was a hand, larger than your own but not huge, nails digging into your flesh.

You tried to say something, a warning a threat, but whoever it was, was closing your throat.

“Don’t pretend I didn’t see you making eyes at me in there darling,” A man’s voice drooled. “We don’t see tourists all too often around here, but I’m sure an outsider like you will be carrying something of value.”

You didn’t recognise the face in front of you at all. A man in his twenties, maybe, fairly non-descript with short mousey brown hair and some stubble. He absolutely reeked of alcohol. Your right hand shot instinctively towards your knife and he twisted your wrist anti-clockwise immediately disarming you, shoving you back against the wall with the force of his body and then reaching for any other weapons. Of course, he found the pistols, kicking one aside and holding the other to your temple.

“These will bring me a pretty Lei or two, I’m sure the Duke would be happy to pay me handsomely. What other souvenirs have you got under that cloak of yours?”

You scrabbled against his hands, trying to execute the self-defence you’d been taught for situations such as these. You tried to get to his weak points; wrist, elbow, knee, balls, but he had you at his mercy. The number of tight spots and situations you’d come up against in your time and you couldn’t do a damn thing if someone had you pinned when their strength was greater than your own. Your hands gripped against his arm, legs kicking.

“Hand it over and I won’t hurt you. Much.” He pressed the cold of your pistol harshly into the skin under your chin.

“No!” You rasped, suddenly being thrown down for a second but caught by something before you hit the ground. Strong, hot arms held you up from falling.

You dared to open your eyes, looking over the arm at the man’s fate. He was sprawled on the ground, blood gushing from his nose and mouth.

“Get the fuck out of here.” A voice rumbled from above you. You looked up. It was Karl. You winced again and the younger man tore off into the darkness without looking back. Your body trembled from pain, cold and something else.

You looked up again. Although you still couldn’t see his eyes you could see some sort of unearthly glow behind the glasses. His skin looked fairly tanned, smooth but worn, tired maybe, and small scars scattered here and there. You were still in his arms, entranced, and so warm.

“Thank you.” You breathed. He swallowed hard and blinked, turning his face away from you, he let his arms drop now that you were on your feet, but you were still close against his body, which now felt so tense. Was he shaking?

“Go.” He exhaled. You faltered, putting a hand to his arm, he flinched, his breathing deepened. “Please.” He shut his eyes. What was this man fighting?

You gulped, stepping back, not understanding, pulling your cloak around you, and stooping to retrieve your weapons.

“Karl, Y/N what’s going on?” Urias lurched out of the pub doors, “What was that commotion?”

A couple of moments passed where you were staring at Urias, holding your cloak to you and expecting Karl to answer, but nothing happened. You turned around to look at Karl, but he wasn’t there.

Urias offered to escort you himself to Luiza’s from there. You told him what happened and although he was furious at what had happened, swearing he’d try to find the culprit and have them punished; he did not seem surprised by Karl’s sudden disappearance. To say you were shaken up was an understatement, but you at least felt safer being with this humungous man of the mountains as you made your way through the snowy night.

Song Suggestion: ‘Stumble and Pain’ by Joseph Arthur

#Karl Heisenberg #karl heisenberg fanfic #karl heisenburg x reader #karl heisenberg fluff #karl heisenberg smut #resident evil #resident evil fanfic #resident evil smut #resident evil 8 #resident evil village #resident evil heisenberg #resident evil karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x you #resident evil urias #resident evil luiza

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tundrainafrica · 3 years

Note

Hey so how does it feel to carry the entire Levihan fandom on your back? I absolutely love all your stories! I always look forward to when you update! I had an idea for a fic but I haven't seen anyone do it. Where past levi wakes ups ( when he only sees hange as a friend) in the future to find that he's happily married to hange or living domestically with her and just contemplates his feelings for her

Title: Unwritten

Summary:

“Hange Zoe. One of the reasons why she creates really quality works is because aside from writing the script, she’s very hands on with everything from the direction, to the design and just the overall production… And she knows how to do it. When I watch her movies, it feels like they're peering into my soul or something.”

“Peering into your soul…” It was a tacky choice of words and Levi could only repeat them with some level of disbelief.

“What makes Hange Zoe's writing special are those in betweens. The unwritten parts... if you know what I mean?"

Levi is assigned to work with screenwriter Hange Zoe and he is left constantly wondering why the hell she's taking her work so seriously.

Link: AO3

Note: I conceptualized this long fic after looking through a some of the prompts in my inbox and playing with them.. TYSM to everyone who sent those. I won't be dropping all the prompts I used when making this now because it might end up spoiling the fic as a whole but I will be dropping the prompts with every chapter I updated.

This fic doesn't actually follow any prompt strictly, I twisted the prompts around them, tore them apart, put them together so they might seem unrecognizable for some.

Either way, I'm very grateful to readers who are sending me prompts. It keeps me writing and brainstorming even when life gets terribly busy.

So thank you for them :D. I'm trying to get back to posting my writing more regularly again and this fic has been sitting in my folder for a while, I was just a little nervous to post it. Thanks to itShailaAM for looking through it!

If neither of us remember anything… Then it’s like it never happened right?

The voice was nostalgic, heart wrenchingly nostalgic. It had a unique way of twisting at his gut, spidering up his spine then leaving an almost painful pang in his chest.

Despite the overwhelming sensations, Levi found himself still able to take control.

So he reached out.

Then he was chasing after her again.

Chasing… He then wondered. How long had he been chasing? How long had he been awake?

With the first light of morning, whatever message, whatever meaning he could have made up for himself dissipated.

Or maybe it was never there to begin with.

For the first time in years or even decades, Levi was wasting his early morning window before work. He wasn’t doing much of anything but staring up at the white ceiling in some feeble attempt to make sense of it again. He came up empty save for two things: a faint throbbing in his head and a half hearted conclusion that maybe it really was just some fevered dream.

“Good morning!" Someone was right next to him. Her voice was higher, more mellow. A hairs breadth away from his ear though, it grated.

Levi narrowed his eyes and the blur cleared somewhat. “Petra?” He heard himself speak. He was in an unfamiliar in-between, completely in control of himself, yet strangely disconnected. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Petra put one hand on the back of her head and gave him a sheepish grin. “Sorry about barging in like this…” She didn’t have to apologize. They were childhood friends and with all the family gatherings they had spent together growing up, they were more than comfortable just flitting in and out of each other’s apartments.

Levi didn’t respond. There were more important things to think about like the slow and almost painful process of sitting up. That morning, he was a little more careful than usual.

“Your mom told me to check on you.” Petra continued.

“Typical,” he muttered coldly. He turned towards the window, and took in the view of the blue sky, a few stories above ground. It should calm him if he stared at it long enough. “She always overreacts,” he added. At that point, the crankiness had started to subside and Levi realized he didn’t mind the doting too much. His mother had always been like that anyway. Growing up, a sprained ankle or an animal bite from a family pet had always been enough for Kuchel to insist on a visit to the doctor.

Petra let out a dry chuckle. “I don’t blame her though. Since the accident, she’s been asking about you every...”

Everyday. Levi completed it for her. He wouldn’t be surprised if his mother had asked about him every hour. “She can always ask me directly,” he said out loud before Petra could finish. He didn’t feel too bad about interrupting. Petra had been speaking particularly slowly since a while ago and if he let her speak like that for any longer, they might not get anything done.

As if she had read his mind or at least noticed the impatience, she immediately gathered herself. “You always downplay it,” she said, more clearly this time.

“She always exaggerates it.”

“That accident was pretty bad though.” Petra cocked her head to the side. “I’m sure you understand that, right?”

Levi averted his gaze for a brief second. He couldn’t deny that part. That accident had apparently been bad enough to merit a month long hospital stay, bad enough for Levi to not remember much of it aside from the phantom pains in his chest, And bad enough to take the brunt of the pain and the inconvenience of dealing with the symptomatic disorientation, the fatigue and the begrudging need for some support.

A few seconds of reflection later, Levi concluded maybe there was good reason for that overreaction. “But I can take care of myself.”

Ironically, his body chose that moment to teeter.

“Hey, you okay?” Petra put one warm hand on his shoulder. “You think you can make it to work today?”

The throbbing at the back of his head had dulled to a bearable ache but he could have sworn it had been worse in the hospital. “I don’t have enough leaves,” he said. He focused for a while longer on Petra’s eyes and saw reason.

Maybe I can take a longer break?

His body was probably silently begging for more leaves. On the contrary, another part of him had been yearning for normalcy for a while. Practicality had been the deciding factor. Although Levi had more than enough leaves, did he have more than he would have been comfortable giving up? Maybe not. He wouldn’t take it anyway. He had more than enough strength to push himself out of bed and pad lightly to the bathroom.

Unwillingly or willingly? He was too tired to tell.

“You were in the hospital just a week ago.” Petra was a voice of reason or a voice of temptation.

“I can’t take any more leaves,” Levi repeated again, as if saying it louder somehow made it more convincing. He made his way to his closet, keeping his strides purposeful, partially for himself, partially for her.

Even for a long time friend, Petra had always been shy and conservative. As soon as Levi motioned to pull his shirt up, she rushed out of the room in some characteristic gesture of modesty.

His bedroom door closed with a click and Levi started to slip his clothes off much faster. His head continued to throb. There was a strange ringing in his ears and the room was a little drafty, typical for early spring.

Levi didn’t have the mind space to prepare for that brush with icy wind. Fucking hell. Discomfort then the desperation that followed had him considering calling in sick again.

After using up three week’s worth though, vacation leaves were starting to feel more like a scam than an actual benefit of the job. He ran through the motions of his typical morning routine. Or at least, what had been typical a month ago. Since the accident, he hadn’t worn anything but loose shirts, pajamas and hospital gowns. Back in the hospital, he had been asleep a lot of that time.

He pulled his pants on, then sluggishly pulled his sweater over him, dolefully noting how snug fitting clothing seemed like strangers to his skin.

He didn’t feel like the same person anymore.

It looked like Petra did notice something was different. Over breakfast, she had pushed the plates closer to him. She did the honors of pouring the scrambled eggs onto his plate, then placing a loaf of bread right next to him. “Eat, we have a long day ahead.”

Levi mumbled something that could have been a ‘thanks’ or a ‘yes.’ He didn’t think too far about it either. There were more pressing things to deal with, like internally psyching himself up for his first day back at work and finding routine once again in the recovery process.

For a few minutes after, the two were silent in the small kitchen save for the sound of chewing and the sound of cutlery clacking on the plate.

“Hey Levi,” Petra hesitantly broke the silence. “You really don't remember what happened?” She had asked that question countless times before, back at the hospital, on his first day back at home and every single time she paid a visit.

He chalked it up to worry. In some semblance of a response, Levi downed the bread in his mouth in one painful gulp, then took a sip of tea. “I remember waking up in the hospital.”

“Before that.”

Levi dropped the half eaten bread on the plate and stared straight up at the ceiling for a second. “Leaving work,” he answered. It was too vague of an answer and Petra didn't seem satisfied.

Of course she wouldn’t be satisfied. He always walked the same route home and routine wouldn’t give too much of an answer to the question of how the hell more than a month ago, he had ended up with a severe concussion and a few contusions in the hospital emergency room, a few towns away from his own.

Past was past though. There was no use digging into it. At present, he had medical bills to pay and a career to salvage. No time for a personal investigation. He attempted to digress. “What did I miss?” Levi asked. “At work?” He noted Petra’s very disconcerting expression, a combination of pity and uncertainty. It was starting to get annoying.

Petra furrowed her brows, a little more hesitant to speak that time. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about...”

In protest, Levi put the bread down and stared at Petra, his stone cold expression unwavering. He wouldn’t be eating unless Petra continued. He wasn’t hungry anyway.

A few minutes of silence later and it seemed to work. Petra looked down at the bread then up at him. Whatever was plaguing her mind then had taken some control over her. “A lot has changed since the accident,” she started.

“With work?” Levi asked again. He dropped the bread on the plate, deliberately allowing the clatter, as if the loud jarring sound would be enough to drive away the disbelief. Three weeks or fifteen business days wasn’t supposed to be a long time taking into account the speed of office bureaucracy.

Petra nodded, a wry smile on her face. Her expression, her demeanor gave the uncertainty away before she spoke of it. “You’re probably going to have to talk to Mr. Zackley about it…”

Levi’s mind was racing. Despite the throbbing, Levi had managed to fill in the blanks for himself. Even before Petra expounded on it, Levi had started to accept already, going back to work was probably not going to be such an easy ride.

Being gone for weeks had done a number to his job.

Three weeks to be exact. It was just three weeks, fifteen business days. Despite Petra’s apparent discomfort, her incessant warnings not to ‘expect,’ Levi had expected some semblance of normalcy. When his hopes were dashed, Levi felt like he had been body slammed out of nowhere by an oncoming train.

“I’ve been working on their set for years…Since the pilot episode, ” Levi said slowly. Hell, since even before the pilot episode if you consider the preproduction stage. He didn’t want it to seem at all like it was an argument and he subdued his tone to something lighter, with the intention of reminding himself not to talk back at authority.

“And we’ve transferred you,” General Manager Darius Zackley said matter-of-factly. “Underground City has been garnering a lot of attention lately and we couldn’t afford to be undermanned at such a crucial point of production.”

“But was it necessary to transfer me?”

Mr. Zackley’s expression softened. He didn't have a natural expression that demanded authority but he made up for it with reason. “It’s a primetime show,” he explained. “One of our best, and given the uncertainty regarding your accident…” For some reason, he had hesitated at that word. “We couldn’t take a gamble. We had you immediately replaced after the first week.”

“And?” At face value, the new developments were starting to seem terribly, terribly disappointing. “I can still work there.” Levi was perfectly aware of where the conversation was going. Still, it didn’t hurt to try.

Mr. Zackley was surprisingly patient. “It’s not an issue of you not fitting in. But we want to properly and more efficiently distribute our labor. The production of Underground City is currently…” He cleared his throat. “Oversaturated.”

Oversaturated with budget, resources. Underground City was a crime and mystery drama, one of their more high budget productions. Levi wasn’t too surprised at that piece of information, having worked closely with the producers and the writers since the pilot.

With a boss a few reporting levels above his own though, Levi couldn’t do much but listen quietly. Disappointment and uncertainty loomed over him and he was tiring more quickly.

“We’ve made some arrangements, set you up with a new role.” Mr. Zackley was taking his sweet time, his painfully sweet time.

At the butt end of Mr. Zackley’s whims, Levi was a mess. He racked his brain for all possible outcomes of the ‘arrangements’, a painful process, hampered by the weight of too many possibilities. They were a medium sized network that produced most of their own TV shows on top of news coverage and documentaries, still too many for Levi to have cared enough about to count.

At that moment, he was determined to make up for lost time. Naturally, his mind first flew to the more well known productions, those that had been receiving the best ratings in prime time TV since he had started working there.

Underground City. Military Police.

Working at the set of the crime drama ‘Underground City’ had been a good run for Levi, one he would have liked to continue but Mr. Zackley said so himself, they replaced him. ‘Military Police,’ one of their more popular historical war dramas, also received one of the bigger chunks of their budget. With Zackley’s very sullen expression, it looked like he wasn’t at all there to give Levi a promotion.

He didn’t really mind not working on the ‘Military Police’ set anyway. Everyone there seemed like a lazy prick and that long running drama had always seemed overrated to him. What else would be waiting for him though? “To where?” Levi pressed.

The old man hummed for a second, leaned forward on his seat. “I talked to Erwin about this and we have an opening in one of our daytime shows.”

“Erwin?” Levi repeated. The name was more than just familiar and he allowed himself a brief moment to recall. Erwin Smith. One of the more prominent in-house directors. Just digging deep into his mind, riling up whatever was causing the headache in the first place. He sat still and waited for it to subside again.

Then he wondered if it had been physical or just an emotional reaction to the mess he found himself in. He was barely recovering, he was plunged into a new position and he was confused, utterly confused.

“Consider it a temporary position until something else opens up,” Mr. Zackley added. “Given that you just got back from the hospital, it would be better if you started small.” He shot Levi a placating look. “Either way, this is a good opportunity for you, Ackerman…” It didn’t seem so genuine. “To ease you back into the hustle and bustle of working in TV production.”

Zackley spoke for an eternity longer after that but it had done nothing to make the transfer any better.

Levi had been working with that same hustle and bustle for years and he was confident, a three week break at the height of production wouldn’t have been enough to throw him--- hell, most people off completely.

But he was being treated like some invalid. Zackley’s warm words yet his uninviting demeanor sent some alarm bells ringing inside Levi.Mr. Zackley was overly consoling, overly placating and Levi’s mind was racing.

Levi took a deep breath and dropped his shoulders, willing himself to relax and focus on the present. Whatever the catch was, he’d find out soon anyway.

To ease you back into the hustle and bustle of working in TV production.

What a magnificent fucking lie.

“Start small my ass.” With the stress just piling up and his body barely catching up, Levi was tempted to let it out as anything louder, accompanying it with the very dramatic motion of dropping the paper work on the floor and relishing the loud thud. He imagined scattering the pages on the table, spilling them onto the floor and maybe kicking them out onto some curb.

Then he brushed off that mental image completely.

That would only create an unnecessary mess, maybe even cause a scene in that small cafe. Although his life seemed like it was complete chaos, his fastidious side wouldn’t have allowed him to make it any more worse. Then and there, he deemed it the best option to just take a sip of his tea, allow it to warm him up slowly and create a comfortable distraction, somewhere convenient.

A minute or so later, Levi accepted, tea didn’t do too good of a job. After all, what could tea do, aside from supporting him through the long and painful two days of ‘adjustment’ and the journey to the very frustrating conclusion that the general manager of the studio, Mr. Zackley was too out of touch with the struggles of the average worker.

“Just for long enough to get back to the hustle and bustle of TV production? What a fucking liar,” Levi muttered again. He dropped the tea cup on the saucer with a clank.

“Well, technically you are starting small,” Petra said. “They don’t expect too much quality wise from a soap opera on a day time slot.” She flipped through the pages of scripts and the storyboards that formed an overwhelmingly thick pile of papers on the coffee table.

It wasn’t too thick. Levi stared for a while longer and he decided it was a manageable pile of documents. The soft copies on his laptop were also of a countable number.

The deadline to be completely functional in two days though wasn’t as reasonable.

In search of some semblance of a break, Levi shifted his gaze towards Petra.

Her familiar presence had made the job change bearable. A half hearted response with her attention mostly channelled towards the piles of scripts had still been enough to have Levi more at home in the middle of the coffee shop in the late afternoon. “You didn’t even need to transfer,” Levi said. The indignance and the bitterness of a while ago seemed to be mellowing into something almost sweet.

Petra turned a beet red and she put her hands up in defense. “No no… I wanted to. Besides, this type of set is always in need of more people.”

Levi raised one eyebrow in response. Soap opera sets? Or maybe just daytime soap operas in general. Or maybe just that particular soap opera set. He turned back to the pile of papers on the table then back to his laptop.

The pile of papers on the table was the script for that month alone. The folders in the USB were eight seasons worth of soap opera scripts and episodes. Levi was once again reminded why such a project could have been so undersaturated.

Scratch that, he had never forgotten and he didn’t think he would ever forget anyway.

The script for just that month was much larger than the piles Levi worked with at his previous production. By the second day, he was starting to conclude, working with daytime soap operas was turning out to be a grind, a seemingly thankless grind.

Soap operas ran with the expectation of producing five episodes a week with a shoestring budget. The pressing deadlines and just the amount of content that had to be produced meant vacations and holidays were few and far in between for the average employee. And the unreasonable demands usually meant that quality would naturally suffer.

Since he started assimilating into his job, he also started to wonder. What audience were they even producing soaps for in that day and age?

“Do you think you’ll even enjoy this?” Levi challenged.

“It’s too early to tell,” Petra said.

Levi didn’t want to admit it then, but he was convinced that she would even find a way to enjoy it. The question should have been for him. He was the one who could barely even get past the first page of the script.

Petra flashed him a knowing smile, flipping the pages a little faster. She wasn’t reading them and all attention was on Levi.

Her face could have been asking questions. Or Levi could have been projecting. He repeated the question to himself. What now? More specifically, what was he supposed to do?

Then he answered it. Get used to it? Or maybe just accept it as a job. The grind would eventually get less painful he was sure. But would he ever see the beauty in it?

Levi had never taken the time to watch that particular soap opera but he had seen too many in passing to know what he would be working with.

The stories didn’t make fucking sense. The sets were cheaply made. The lights, the cameras and the resources for special effects were far from what he was given when he was still working with the twenty-one-episodes-a-season, one-season-a-year ‘Underground City.”

According to Erwin, they just didn’t have the budget. Besides, the average viewer didn’t expect much else anyway from a soap opera.

Either way, he was still hired as the cinematographer. This is still your job. Levi took a deep breath then exhaled with a soft huff. First things first, he had to familiarize himself with ten to fifty episodes worth of scripts. That night, he would be watching the blocking, the lighting, the editing, the overall production.

That was the job of the fucking cinematographer anyway. Erwin had warned him though, they were severely undermanned in all facets of production, pre production, production proper and post production. And for shows that aired multiple times a week, that meant, the grind wouldn't end.

So he wouldn’t just be the cinematographer.

At the impending workload that followed his orientation phase, Levi closed his eyes tight. For a second there, his mind flew to other opportunities and just the process of editing his CV and applying elsewhere.

Maybe in a year he would reapply, or maybe even in months.

He wondered if Petra was thinking the same thing. If she were, she didn’t make it obvious. Petra enjoyed the production process just as much as he did and she had been the reason he had found a job there in the first place.

“Welcome back to the working world.” Petra chuckled.

Levi blinked back the surprise in his eyes as he was once again pulled back to reality. Admittedly, he was overwhelmed. The weak throbbing returned and after spending too many hours insisting to Petra that he was ready to go back to work, he didn’t think it right to take a break.

He sipped his tea and deemed that a quick break.

“God I miss our tea times,” Petra said, looking pointedly at Levi's tea caup. She flipped the script over and pulled her teacup towards her.

Levi noted the wistful expression on Petra’s face. “I was only out for a month,”

Petra shook her head. “But for a week or so, we thought you wouldn’t make it.” There was a subtle crack, not too noticeable if Levi hadn’t tensed up and watched her closely.

It was bringing up too many unwelcome emotions at once, and somewhere in the back of his mind, a haze of memories aggravated the throbbing in his head.

Levi turned back to the pile of papers. With the amount of work to do, he would never have the time to ponder what happened anyway. In an attempt at digression, he pulled the script towards him, and started to flip the pages, poring over words yet only taking in half of it.

A very boring half.

Eventually, he gave up. “Let’s go back home. We’re not getting anything done here.” He gathered the pages, and meticulously returned them to each envelope.

He was supposed to be reviewing the scripts to get some idea on how the TV show worked. They had chosen to work in the cafe to escape from the bustle of the sets and attempt some productivity. Yet, they had been in the cafe for a few hours already and he still didn’t remember what the story had been about in the first place.

Soap operas didn’t have logical plots anyway. Levi thought to himself. Maybe just accepting could make his work feel more unbearable. He watched as Petra gathered the pages on her end, stuffed them into her bag.

“Sorry, I thought you would have wanted tea. You always liked this place…” Petra was explaining herself. The not-so-eloquent way at which she did it was a distraction. In fact, everything at that point was either a distraction or even irritating. Levi took a deep breath, closed his eyes and let the throbbing take control for a second.

One step at a time. Levi slung his bag over his shoulder. “The tea was good,” he said, more for her than himself. That was a lie. In fact, the tea tasted underwhelming. Tea usually didn’t disappoint though and Levi was starting to suspect the fault was in him. “Just give me some time to get used to life again,” he added, his tone more apologetic that time.

A few seconds or even minutes of reflection later and Levi had to admit, he felt like he really had changed during that break.

Cinematography is visual storytelling. Or so, that was what he had been taught when he started working with TV shows years ago.

When there was no story he could follow, there was no essence or heart to portray. So, Levi naturally approached it like a cold hard science. The hard copies on folders lay abandoned on the coffee table. His laptop remained unopened.

Levi's attention was trained on the big screen. He had silently been sprawled on the sofa since they arrived back to his apartment hours ago. Bundled up in a sweatshirt, legs propped up on the coffee table, Levi was in that convenient trance between relaxing and analyzing.

He had no idea what the couple on the TV had been arguing about. He had no idea who had fathered the large overly tacky baby bump sticking out of the woman.

The latest episode was playing on repeat and Levi remembered two things happening in the past ten minutes. A pregnant woman entering the crappy set of their mansion, hand on her oversized belly and man looked back at her then approached her, a look of abject horror on his face. He was shouting something, obscenities maybe?

By that point, Levi’s mind started to wander with too many other passing thoughts.

The horror at finding out the protagonist was pregnant was overly exaggerated. Were baby bumps really supposed to be that big? And why did it take them that many months to figure it out? How many pregnancies did the protagonist go through? How many love interests did she have?

Then the cinematographer and the photographer in him took over.

There were more important things to look into. The camera never moved. Levi was familiar with multi camera setups and he didn’t need to think too hard about it. Most of the scenes were filmed in the house, in the office, all conveniently made sets, the conveniently written scripts were written around the shitty budget.

And the high frame rate, in tandem with the inorganic lighting, the lack of special effects and just the lack of some careful camera movement, made the overall story and the overall view, underwhelming, not at all cinematic.

The soap opera effect.

Some wouldn’t see it. Others would probably notice it but not glaringly enough to complain. Levi had worked in film for years and when he would search for the characteristic motion blur, he would immediately find it. The culmination of a simple camera set up, a few sets, a cheap camera, and with a studio and network always in some hurry to cut the budget, the soap opera effect was very apparent.

And they would be expecting the same cooperation from him in putting together a cheaply made production. On the bright side, that meant that despite having to deal with some shitty soap opera plot that didn’t make any sense, he wouldn’t have to do too much thinking with lighting, blocking and editing. Planning sets and scenes would be a light stroll in the park at best, soul suckingly monotonous at worst.

Levi reached for the remote and started to rewind, his interest suddenly piqued.

“So what do you think happened to the baby?” Petra asked. She dropped a bowl of popcorn on the coffee table.

Levi wasn’t in any mood to eat. More importantly, he in the mood to speculate the cheap excuse for a plot. “Am I supposed to care?” He pulled his legs close to him and leaned further on the armrest of the sofa, giving Petra more than enough space to get herself comfortable.

“Well, you’re working on the set right? Better to at least know the major plot points of what you’re working with.”

“Spoil me,” Levi said.

Petra reached for the popcorn and grabbed a handful. She turned to him, a wry smile on her face. “You really don’t even wanna try to enjoy it?”

“This is a job. ”

Petra dropped her shoulders in defeat. “Well… Hanako gets kidnapped…”

“Hanako?”

“The baby…” Petra answered, looking pointedly at him. “They literally spent an episode discussing the baby’s name.” A laugh was very much evident in her voice.

And there are a hundred episodes to sift through. “I don’t have to know the baby’s name to do my job.”

“The baby will be the main character in the next season. If you have been reading the script--- Or even just following the story...” Petra put her hands out and pointed at the TV, starting to look more exasperated by the minute.

“Okay,” Levi responded firmly, not in any mood to stomach accusations. “Then I’ll learn her name when I start working. Just tell me what I need to know to do my job. ”

Petra sighed. “When we get back on air, there will be a time skip. Then the season post time skip picks up after Hanako’s first day of college. So before that she grew up with her adopted parents who found her abandoned in a box. They went through some tough times financially and in the latest pages of the script she gets a job in a coffee shop.” She turned towards the thick envelope on the table then glanced accusingly at him. “I could have sworn you were reading through that back in the cafe.”

Levi didn’t notice it. He had only half heartedly read the script. Still, he feigned a look of interest.

“Then a lot of the writers quit,” Petra continued. “So a lot of what happened hasn't been written yet.”

Levi flashed Petra a knowing look.

Petra sighed. "Apparently, people were overworked, the job didn't pay much so a lot of the crew, cinematographer, production designers, they all left which was most likely why they put you there.”

Levi only had to look back at his first day and his second day to understand the turnover rate. He had spent a little less than an hour familiarizing himself with systems that seemed to be put into place for show. Soon after that, he was bombarded with unreasonable deadlines, timelines, responsibilities outside his actual job title and a little less than two days to sift through eight seasons worth of scripts.

“And why they easily transferred me. We're really behind now. Post production for the last few episodes should be completed this week, aired by next week.

"Then we have a hiatus at least," Levi said, repeating it with that same cold professional tone Erwin had used with him on their first day. Except he knew that was a scam too. They would be using that two week hiatus to start filing.

That reminder at least pulled Levi back into reality. He couldn’t flit mindlessly from side to side and clock it up as ‘learning the ropes’ forever. Eventually, they were going to ask him to actually know the ropes. “Erwin said something about me working with production proper and post production,” Levi mindlessly rewinded some of the scenes again. “But they can’t expect me to write the script right?”

Petra shook her head. “No, I don’t think you will,” she said. “I talked to a few of the crew. They said they were hiring a writer. A whole writing crew actually--- And you know, among them, there are rumors about a big name screenwriter.”

Levi raised one eyebrow in disbelief. “Joining the set of a daytime soap opera.”

She put her hands up in defense. “It’s just a rumor.”

“A stupid rumor. What kind of screenwriter in their right mind would want to work here?”

Petra paused for a second, deep in thought. “Fine, it might just be a rumor. Still, ask yourself, why would there be rumors circulating in the first place?"

Levi sighed. “Which screenwriter then?” he asked, mostly in an attempt to humor her. And himself. The fact that a big name screenwriter would work in soap operas, might actually make ‘soap operas’ work.

“Hange Zoe,” Petra said, a wry knowing look on her face. As if it was a name Levi was supposed to know.

“Hange Zoe?” And if he followed the same ups and downs of Petra’s tone, he could pretend it was familiar to his lips. “Hange Zoe,” he said again.

Petra nodded. “The writer of the Titan series? The final movie of `Advancing Titans’ is coming out in the fall.”

Advancing Titans. The name had seemingly come out of nowhere, especially when Levi had already run through a few possible names in his head. Hange Zoe hadn’t been one of them. Although she was a big name in the screenwriting industry for sure, the idea of Hange Zoe working with soap operas seemed almost preposterous.

“Hange Zoe…” Levi said it one more time, in surprise or in some attempt to practice saying it. “You’re seriously talking about that writer?” Levi looked to Petra for confirmation. Hange had only ever written one movie series from a completely different genre, which begged a question.“She has some experience in soap operas?”

Petra unlocked her phone, opened the browser and started typing and scrolling. “No… Just the movies…” she muttered a second later.

“Then why do you think she would suddenly want to work in a cheap ass day time soap opera?”

Petra looked back at him, a dumbfounded look in her face. “But the timing just fits too well. The final movie is about to be released. Apparently, she didn’t renew her contract with her studio. There are even rumors of her leaving the movie industry… And there were speculations and everything.”

“Retirement?” Levi suggested.

“Why retire in your thirties?” Petra said.

“Well, when you’re earning millions per script…” Levi trailed off. Thinking up an argument was too much of a tall order. He continued flipped through channels in silence and he had managed to pick out the movie ‘Advancing Titans’ by just a few seconds worth of a scene.

Speak of the devil.

But it wasn’t strange at all to come across the movies while flipping through channels. After all, Advancing Titans had become a household name over the past few years.

A person in a green cloak was flying, killing some man eating a zombie. It was a familiar scene, Even Levi, who almost prided himself in never having watched the movies, was familiar enough with the iconic movements, the colors and the insignia on the back.

The wings of freedom. How the hell that was connected to the story, Levi never watched enough to find out. Nor was he interested. Science fiction and fantasy were just never his cup of tea.

If Levi had to guess, soap operas and crime dramas shouldn’t have been big wig screenwriter Hange Zoe’s cup of tea either, especially after dedicating years of her life into a production as complex as a science fiction, dark fantasy cinematic universe..

“Do you really think Hange Zoe can actually work with low budget soap operas?” Levi asked.

Petra shrugged and Levi wondered why he had even asked her in the first place. Of course, she wouldn’t know. Still, she spoke up. “Even if the rumors were wrong and it wasn’t Hange Zoe. The important thing is they get someone to pump out scripts right? And your job anyway is to make sure everything gets filmed.”

“I guess.” Levi kept his eyes trained on the screen. The scene shifted from a forest, to the cobblestoned streets in town. A parade of miserable soldiers entered the town within the walls. The camera focused on a father, who navigated through crowds of people, zooming in one of the shorter soldiers.

Captain, I wanted to talk to you about my daughter… She wrote me a letter… She’s too young to get married.

Something about the expression of the soldier pulled Levi in. For a moment, he was frozen on his seat, completely hypnotized.

Petra’s voice tore into his trance. “That’s one of the scenes I can never forget.”

In some desperate bout of retaliation, Levi switched the channel of the TV. “Let’s watch something else.”

“Why? You okay?” Petra asked.

“I’m fine. I’d rather watch something more productive.” Levi flipped more rapidly through channels. He was tempted to just turn off the TV and call it a night.

“There’s a lot to learn from watching that,” Petra started.

"Like what?" Levi asked, his grip on the remote was still firm.

Petra opened her mouth, then closed it again. She sighed. “It's hard to explain... but remember that scene just a while ago. The father approached the captain about his daughter… She died while fighting the titans and they had to empty the cart so they lost all the bodies..."

Levi kept his eyes glued to the screen, suddenly hyper aware that there might have been a judgemental or impatient look on his face. “Go on,” Levi said, as if that could do anything to placate the discomfort already apparent in her voice.

“I guess the point I wanted to make is…” Petra still seemed far from calm. “Hange Zoe. One of the reasons why she writes really quality works apparently is because aside from writing the script, she’s very hands on with everything from the blocking, to the screenwriting and just the overall production… Which makes the storyline and the movie so gripping. When I watch it, it feels like the movie is peering into my soul or something.”

“Peering into your soul…” It was a tacky choice of words and Levi could only repeat them with some level of disbelief.

“A lot of the novelty of Hange Zoe’s writing… The parts that make it special are those in betweens. The parts she left unwritten... if you know what I mean?"

“That’s cool,” Levi responded, only barely. He switched to their local channel, to the late night reruns of the soap opera. .

“They’re good movies. I don’t think they were overrated," Petra said, a hint of defensiveness in her tone.

"I never said they weren’t good movies."

"You don't seem to want to hear about it at all."

"I'm just not interested. Besides, I'm too busy with work." That was the right moment to feign business. Levi held his phone in front of him, opened up the browser and wrote out a few familiar keywords. The movies of the titan series were all ranging from four to five star ratings. Whether it had been commended for cinematography or writing, he had been too lazy to check the more detailed reviews.

The reviews were most likely raving, sloppily made and potentially biased and Levi didn’t want to hear another synonym for ‘peers into your soul.’

His eyes were drooping, he was exhausted. Petra seemed to be ready to leave as well. But he had some space, he needed some break. And what better way to spend it than to do a little stalking? "Petra, could you send a file of the first movie? I think I might wanna watch it."

"You can stream the older ones on demand," Petra said.

Levi only had to open the menu on his TV to see the option for streaming. Right. Watching movies was starting to feel like a chore though and he was in no mood watching that night.

He didn’t say much else after that and the night ended with greetings exchanged. Petra only lived a few floors below him and it didn’t feel any different from being alone.

Before he knew it, he was half asleep already. He gave up, turned off the TV and allowed himself to doze off. When he came to his senses again, the sun was streaming through the window, and with work starting in an hour or so, he had little to no time to even start the movie.

The set was small. The budget was miniscule. The turnover rate was high.

And for projects that wanted to disguise themselves as official and corporate, it was utter chaos. One week into his job, Levi had to admit, he was reaching too widely, and he was spread out too thin.

There was a semblance of structure within his team. Petra and Eld worked with cinematography, filming and camera management and all he had to do was make sure the blocking looked good, limit the amount of retakes needed. Gunther and Oluo worked in post production and video editing.

But structure was an illusion.

The actors hadn’t arrived yet. Other new roles hadn't been finalized. The script was still unfinished. Yet, they were under the mercy of the vision of higher ups

"We're heavily delayed,’ or so that was what Erwin had explained. ‘Feedback of the higher ups.”

There were deadlines, unreasonable deadlines for the employees, yet a reasonable wait for the average audience. They had less than a month to finish filming and post production for the first few episodes of the new season, less than a week to produce everything for the old season.

When he was in a pseudo-management role, as a cinematographer, it was automatic. When filming, he should be going down to the set. But they weren't filming yet. In fact, there were people in the set not doing anything.

In the chaos, everything didn't seem to add up. So Levi forced one memorandum, one attempt at structure. He would finish the final editing by that night and start the next day with a blank slate. Even if he needed to, he would stay until midnight to make it work.

That new writing team should be coming soon. Levi repeated to himself. Erwin had said so himself, Petra had also mentioned it excitedly over lunch.

All Levi had to do was get the episodes ready for review by the higher ups, then ready for airing then he could start that new season with a healthier approach, maybe find some way to add more structure to his already hectic job.

“Petra, don’t wait for me. I’m working overtime today.”

Petra jumped on her seat.

Levi only realized then, he had come up from right behind her. And Petra had been busy reading through something in her laptop, a quick glance confirmed, it was the unfinished script.

Levi continued. “You don’t have to wait for me.”

Petra looked back at him, a worried look in her face. She opened her mouth to speak.

“Deadlines,” Levi answered.

“You need any help? You know Oluo and Gunther, they can stay too. Or even me.”

“I can finish it myself,” Levi said. He was completely aware either way that it was his job to review everything before anyone else reviewed and before it went on air.

There was an indignant look on Petra's face. But Petra never really imposed. She nagged, doted, argued but she never imposed.

And he managed to pacify her by requesting an espresso and a cup of tea from the tea shop right in front of the studio. Beverages were frowned upon in the video editing room. Levi though was particularly meticulous, he was tired and stressed and he allowed himself some leeway.

Just today. And when they start filming the new season, during the hiatus, Levi would reopen his work with a more organized approach, more suited for his personality. He constantly reassured himself of that as he continued to edit the videos, crosschecking with storyboards and scripts.

Most of the work had been done. Most of the work had been easy to scan through. Still it was hours of sifting through retakes, reviewing and setting them up for reviews and cuts. In the silence, completely alone, He gladly gave the task the required focus, more than enough not to have noticed the sound of the door click behind him.

“This is the coffee you asked for right?” The voice wasn’t Petra’s but still it didn’t seem at all hostile. In fact, the voice seemed friendly.

Friendly enough for Levi to feel obliged to respond.”Thanks.” A new hire maybe? In the one week he had been working there, three people had already quit.

It wasn’t worth a second thought. The important thing was he got his coffee and tea. So he didn’t bother looking up, only looking with his peripherals to see the paper white of the cup just a few inches away. He reached one hand towards the cup and surprisingly, his hand didn’t grasp for paper. It went for something a little softer, something a little cooler but still warm to the touch.

And it moved. A bug? A pest? That had been Levi’s first speculation, being the paranoid clean freak he was. Before his guesses could get anymore creative he looked at the cup and saw the cup was stable on his desk. He had a grip, not on the cup itself but on the other hand which held the cup. The movements were from a hand underneath his..

A wild hand. It slipped out of his grip, and before Levi could pull away, it gripped him in return, squeezing harder on his pointer finger and his middle finger.

For just a second. A painfully awkward second.

A second of realization was all Levi needed to pull away. “May I help you?” he asked. It took a lot more willpower not to curse at that strange invasion of privacy. A second later, reason took over and Levi realized that he was the one who had gripped her first.

He had planned to grip the coffee cup, he justified himself.

“They said… You needed some coffee.” The voice was nonchalant. Yet somehow, nonchalance had managed to make his blood boil. “So I came here to drop it and say hi,” she added, as if that was the most natural response.

‘Say hi’ didn’t usually involve two hands gripping one another, then interlocking. Her hands were still gripping the tip of his fingers and for a second they were frozen.. “Are you always this touchy then?” Levi pressed. Especially with a total stranger. Levi looked up, turned his head towards the voice and confirmed it, she was definitely a familiar face but they were barely even acquaintances.

Brown hair tied up in a ponytail, glasses propped comfortably on her nose and just underneath them, warm brown eyes that had no problem just staring, studying… And in their own way, leaving Levi very very jarred by the mundane gesture called ‘eye contact.’

“I was hoping to talk for a bit,” she said. “If you’re not too busy, we can---”

“I’m busy right now,” Levi said. He pulled the coffee closer to him, suddenly careful when awareness dawned on him abruptly. Suddenly, he was completely aware that the coffee cup was only a few inches away from the computer. “Can this wait?”

Those brown eyes were suddenly wider, a hint of surprise. Then they narrowed at him and Levi felt some pity blanket his already sluggish and aimless movements. Before he knew it, he was very very unproductive.

He had to do something. “My name is Levi by the way.” He was deliberately gentler that time and usually lowering his voice and slowing down did some magic to make him seem kinder than he usually seemed to new people. Or so, that had been what Petra had advised multiple times before.

Levi looked up, forced a subtle smile, a combination between a tightlipped line and crinkles at the edge of his mouth. The most he could manage for a courteous introduction.

Her reaction was unexpected to say the least. He noticed her eyes first, the way they widened. Her jaw dropped. She closed it again, a subtle twitch in her lip.

Did I say something wrong? Levi thought to himself. He looked back at the computer screen. “Levi… Levi Ackerman,” he added. Would that help ease the tension of the room?

Even when Levi started to make a game for himself, playing video edits again and again, he realized he was more focused on pretending to concentrate than in actually polishing the transitions between scenes.

Hange eventually spoke up. “Hello Levi. Nice to meet you.” Her voice was softer in that last sentence.

“Nice to meet you too.” That had been surprisingly difficult to say. He sensed the discomfort in her voice, and maybe he had unknowingly mirrored it.

“My name is Hange Zoe. I’m going to be working as a screenwriter here…”

Oh. Oh. So that’s Hange Zoe. For someone who spearheaded blockbuster hits, who had people talking like crazy over rumors, it turned out she was a very underwhelming presence.

“I’m the cinematographer here,” Levi said. Technically, that was his job title but at that point, he was doing everything. “So I guess we’re going to be working together a lot.”

“We will,” Hange responded. Her presence was underwhelming. So underwhelming that Levi felt no need to even be excited that they had a prodigy screenwriter in their midst. Her voice was soft when she spoke to him. Her eyes were some mix of disappointment, nervousness, uncertainty.

Levi suspected it was her demeanor, her approach towards him that had caused such tension to settle in such a tiny room. “Thank you for coffee,” Levi said. Any nice gesture seemed like a worthwhile attempt to ease it.

A wide smile played at Hange’s lips, still far from what Levi would have considered confident though. “Happy to help.”

That’s the award winning screenwriter? “I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“I’m going to be working on a few scripts tonight, have Erwin look at them in a day or so,” she said. Her voice had shifted to something more professional, and her meekness was starting to feel more like a misinterpretation on Levi's end..

“Looking forward to them,” Levi said.

The door slammed behind him, a little louder than the click that followed. The room was dim, it was almost distracting. When Levi turned towards the lights, he considered turning it on, to save himself the discomfort of sore eyes.

He turned his chair, put enough wait into one leg only to notice the sluggishness, the numbness underneath. His legs were jelly. Her hands were trembling and his breaths weren’t coming out in predictable bouts. He turned back to the computer and prepared to review what he had already edited.

The video was playing and Levi was convincing himself that he was productive.

Halfway through the episode, or even a quarter through the episode (Levi wasn’t counting), his mind had wandered. When his surroundings just became a little too overwhelming, Levi let loose just a little bit. He let the heaviness in his chest and the stiffness of his limbs speak for him then.

That voice of a while ago, Hange Zoe’s voice. That voice was nostalgic, heart wrenchingly nostalgic.

#levihan #levihan fanfiction

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laddieseddiemunster · 3 years

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Hi! Thx for replying by for specification, I really loved the rebel aspect about the little sister imagine and maybe you could do one for like when it’s the day after she drank the bottle and the guys didn’t find her in the cave but can sense her around the boardwalk. I read in a few that when a new member is added they can feel it so that’s the route I’m going for. If not it’s cool.

Thank you for this ask! I really love the whole little sister concept with the lost boys. This ended up kind of turning into a wholesome fic cause I didn’t want to copy my other one. Hope you enjoy!

New Arrival (Lost Boys & 13 y/o Sister!Reader)

warning(s): mentioning of kidnapping, sneaking out of school, alcoholism, peer pressure

Some might say you were too young to be ditching school, but the hell with them, right? Though you weren’t sneaking out of school to a party. No, you were meeting up with friends to go exploring through some abandoned places. Sure, these places could be haunted, but the slight fear makes the experience more fun for you and your friends. Nothing spooky has ever happened before, so why should something happen now?

One of your friends came up with the idea. It was supposed to be a celebration for you and your friends most hated teacher because they had just gone missing. It was the ‘I’m glad you’re gone and I hope you never come back’ type of celebration. You didn’t know exactly what abandoned place you were going to, but wherever it was, it seemed to be really closed off near the mountains.

This abandoned place was beautiful, but it didn’t seem too abandoned. It was a cave that looked like it was something else originally, but it was decorated so nicely that you could hardly tell. The only problem was, there was some fire lit in the cave to bring light in, which probably means someone was in here not long ago.

Instead of deciding to leave, you chose to stay because you didn’t want to look like the one that was all scared. You’ve been to many abandoned places with your friends, but the slight fact that this place could possibly not be abandoned gave you the creeps.

As you all gathered up in the center of the cave, one of your friends thought it was a great idea to play a game of truth or dare. You made the smart move and decided to go with truth, because there was no way that you were doing a dare in this cave. One of your other friends decided to go with dare, and the dare they got was to crawl through the tunnel up hidden in the cave that no one had the balls to go into. You were thankful you didn’t have to do that.

Unfortunately for you, it came a time where you used up all of your truths, and now you were forced to do a dare. If you chose truth for a certain amount of times, then you had to do a dare no matter what. One of your friends came up with that idea, and you were currently hating them for it.

Your heart beat started to pump faster and faster as you thought of what horrible dare you would have to do in this cave. The answer to your question, was not thrilling or exciting as you might have guessed. Your friend handed you a tall looking wine glass that had been sitting on a table when you had first gotten to the cave. Your friend told you that for the dare you’d have to take a sip of whatever substance was in this glass.

Both of your eyes looked down in the direction of the bottle in your hands. The liquid inside was blood red, and it didn’t smell too appealing either. You almost gagged and immediately shook your head. There was no way you were going to drink this. All your friends started to whine and tell you that you had to do it because it was a dare. They started to chant “chug!” over and over again. You realized that if you didn’t drink it, then your friends would never let you live this down. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. “If I die it’s their fault,” you thought to yourself before putting the opening of the bottle up to your lips.

The substance burned your throat the second you swallowed a tiny portion of it. You let the bottle drop onto the floor and smash into thousands of pieces. You started to cough as you felt the burning from the liquid practically in your chest now. Your friends crowded you asking if you were okay, but you couldn’t answer them. You were barely able to breathe, more or less speak.

While you were trying to catch your breath, you heard some screaming coming from the other end of the cave. You thought this day couldn’t get any worse, but boy, were you wrong.

The screaming was coming from your friend that was given the dare to explore one of the tunnels in the cave. Well, they were now squirming out of the tunnel, and they looked scared shitless. They were screaming loudly that you all needed to leave now, and you definitely weren’t going to argue with that. The rest of your friends now looked pretty afraid, so you all grabbed your things and left as quickly as you could.

Your friend started to calm down when the cave was no where in sight and you all were safe. They claimed that they saw a couple people hanging from the roof at the end of the tunnel. A couple of your friends thought it was all a bunch of bologna. Some of them actually wanted to go back and investigate, but you were quick to shut them down. There is no way in hell that you were going back to that place.

The boys woke up and immediately noticed something was off. They could feel in their blood that a human had just been turned. Though, they didn’t know how. David could tell that it was from his blood, so he knew that someone drank the bottle. That, or one of them didn’t fully kill someone, and they hoped to god that that wasn’t the case.

Once they all saw the broken bottle of David’s blood on the floor they knew what had happened. They could also smell in the air that their were humans in the cave just a couple hours ago. Their main concern wasn’t to go out and kill some people that were in the cave, the main concern was to find you. A new vampire out in public could be dangerous. Lots of terrible things could happen that they didn’t want to think about. They knew they had to find you. Before Max did.

You didn’t feel too bad after a couple hours. You were able to breathe, and the burning in your chest went away. It was almost like nothing had happened. Well, so far.

Once you felt 100% you decided to take a walk around the boardwalk. Your friends were most likely already there. You met up with them there almost every day. Your mom dropped you off at the boardwalk before scurrying away to the nearest bar. It wasn’t a surprise to you at all. Sometimes you wondered how your mother even remembered to pick you up after school cause of all her drinking. You hoped one day she’d get some help for herself and you, but you’ve been hoping for that for years.

After your mom dropped you off you decided to look around for your friends. You usually met up with them around the carousel, but when you got there, they were nowhere to be found. You figured that they were probably still spooked over what happened at the cave, so you decided to go for ice cream because you knew it’d be a while before your mom would come to get you.

While you were in the line to order some ice cream, you started to feel a pounding in your chest. It felt like your heart was about to explode. You fell onto your knees and tried to take a few breaths. You could practically hear your own heart beat. It sounded like your heart was a ticking time bomb that was ready to detonate. A couple people in the line crouched down to your level and asked if you were okay.

As you looked over at the people trying to help you, you noticed that a weird feeling appeared in your throat. Almost like a thirst. Not a thirst for water though. You could practically smell the blood from their veins. It was quite unsettling, and the thirst in your throat kept increasing. It was like you were looking at them as if they were a meal. The people didn’t understand. They probably thought you were about to pass out.

The thirst was too much for you to handle, so you pushed past the people to try and stop it. Of course, that didn’t work at all. There was hundreds of people walking around, and you were stuck right in the middle of the crowd. The thirst didn’t go away, and the crowds only made it worse. The pounding in your chest didn’t help much either. You felt like you were dying, and no one around you seemed to care.

Your vision started to blur, and now your head was pounding along with your heart. You almost felt like your legs were about to give out. Until you felt someone grab onto both of your shoulders to keep you upright.

“Are you okay, kid?” Your vision came back and you looked up to see who was talking to you. It was a tall blond looking rocker, who definitely was considerably a lot older than you.

“Y-yeah! I’m fine,” you tried to get away from him, but he wasn’t budging. He hard a firm grip on your shoulders.

“Oh good, you found her,” you turned to your left to see a shorter blond with curly hair. He had a leather jacket on that had lots of vibrant colors. Since you had been on the boardwalk a good amount of times, you knew who these guys were. They were a part of the biker gang that was known for being feared. These guys were bad news.

“Wh-what?” The fact that they had been looking for you only sparked red flags. Luckily, your thirst started to become manageable. You didn’t quite feel it anymore. It was strange that the second these guys showed up was the second your thirst started to wear off, but you weren’t exactly complaining about it.

“Uhh, kid, you’re going to have to come with us,” the shorter blond said trying to take your hand.

“No!” You pulled your hand away from him, but the taller blond still had a grip on you.

“Kid, listen, you’re a-”

“No! Let go of me!” The blond rocker now grabbed onto your wrist. He was pretty strong, so no matter how hard you pulled, he didn’t budge one bit. The two remaining members of the gang had now joined in. Four against one.

“This is the one, right David?” The shorter blond asked. David. Now at least one of them was revealed.

“Yes,” the one called David said. He was definitely the leader. You recognized him because he always led the pack whenever you saw them around the boardwalk. “We have to take her back.”

You cursed under your breath realizing that you had to get out of this and fast. “Help me! I’m being kidnapped! Help!” You screamed for anyone to hear, but everyone just kept walking. It was like you were deaf upon ears.

“Stop it, kid! Ow!” The blond rocker yelped in pain as you bit down hard on his wrist that gripped onto your arm. He still didn’t release you, no matter how hard you tried. The other two blonds laughed at the two of you.

“Jesus Paul,” the brunette scoffed. “You’re scaring the hell out of her!”

“You’re not being kidnapped,” the shorter blond said with a mischievous smile appearing on his face. You could tell that he liked scaring people. “Well, not literally.”

The brunette shoved the shorter blond aside and walked towards you. “What’s your name?”

“Why would I tell you that?” You replied trying to back away from him.

“We’re not here to hurt you. You’re not being kidnapped,” the brunette said and turned back to glare at the shorter blond. “We’re here to help you.”

“From what?” You asked still unconvinced.

“We’re gonna explain that. Just tell us you’re name first,” the brunette said.

You rolled your eyes at told him your name. They all followed by telling you their names. The brunette was Dwayne. And the shorter blond was Marko.

David pushed Dwayne aside to walk towards you. “Let’s get to the point, okay?” You nodded even though you didn’t know exactly what he meant. “You drank from the bottle, didn’t you?”

You gasped softly. Dammit, you knew that you shouldn’t have drunk from that bottle. All because of some stupid dare. You shut your eyes and nodded.

David sighed. “Look kid, this is going to be really hard to explain, and I can’t do it here. You’re going to have to come back with us.”

“How do I know you’re not going to hurt me?” You asked not fully trusting them.

David chose not to put his hands on you. He felt that that would probably freak you out even more. “I swear to you that we won’t. We are here to help you, and protect you.”

“Protect me from what?” You asked.

“Yourself in a way.” You gave David a questioning look. What the hell was in that drink? “Listen to me very carefully,” you nodded. “You’re no longer...human. That drink contains something that turns you into... one of us.” He said which didn’t help your confusion.

“It’s hard to explain, but I can explain it better if we’re not in public. You’re going to have to trust us. If you don’t, it can be bad for you.” David said which still didn’t make much sense to you. But, you wanted to know what was the matter with you, so you nodded.

The boys took you out of the crowds and towards their motorcycles. You still didn’t exactly trust them, but if they could fix whatever was wrong with you, then you were willing to take the risk. David motioned for you to get on the back of his bike, and you had to take a breath before getting on it. Millions of thoughts raced through your brain, but you tried to convince yourself that these guys might actually be trying to help you.

The ride was actually kind of thrilling. You could tell David had no intention of driving slow. It didn’t surprise you when you saw them stop right in front of the caves entrance. You hoped to never see this cave again, but it didn’t look like this cave was ever going to leave your life.

You walked in trying not to look at the broken glass on the floor from the ‘wine’ bottle.

“Is this what you drank from?” Marko asked picking up some of the broken glass.

You gulped and nodded.

David and Marko shared a glance. Unfortunately, it didn’t look like a good one.

“Y/n, we are not exactly human,” David started. “You’ve seen all the missing posters around the town I’m sure?”

You nodded again.

“Those people are missing because of us. We are...killers. We have to feed from people to survive. If we feed, we will never die.” David said. You started to fidget. Maybe they weren’t trying to help you. Maybe they wanted you to be their next victim.

“So, you’re...cannibals?” You asked hoping that that wasn’t the truth. The two blonds started to laugh, but Dwayne glared at both of them internally telling them to stop.

David shook his head. “No, we’re...” David took a deep breath. He didn’t like stating the exact name of what he was, “...vampires.”

You scoffed in disbelief. You weren’t only in the worst place in the world, but now these guys claim to be vampires.

Marko and Paul shared a glance and mischievously smiled at each other. You were about to call them crazy, until you saw both of the blonds faces change completely. Their eyes turned golden, and their teeth were now sharp fangs that could pierce anyone’s skin.

Before you could scream, Dwayne put his hand over your mouth. “It’s okay, they’re not going to hurt you.” He tried to sound reassuring, but it didn’t work too well. The blonds turned back to normal after a few seconds, and you started to calm down. After Dwayne took his hand away from your mouth, you started to put two and two together.

“Is that what...I am?” You asked hoping that your conclusion was incorrect. The last thing you wanted to be was a vampire.

David nodded. “In that bottle, was my blood. Since you drank it, you’re now one of us.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Vampires were supposed to be fake! Not real! You couldn’t imagine killing people in order to survive. “Is there any way to turn back?”

David looked away before shaking his head.

“You mean I’m stuck like this forever?!” You raised your voice. This was worse than death.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” Marko said.

“It’s worse than it looks!” You fired back making Marko look to the ground.

“Well, on the bright side you’re going to be our sister now,” Paul said with a smile.

“I don’t want to be your sister!” You said which made Paul’s smile fall. “I want to be normal!”

“Look, I understand that you probably want to think this over. There is a bedroom over there if you want to be alone.” David said pointing over to a room that was covered with curtains. You wondered why. You didn’t want to argue with them anymore, so you got up and walked over to the bedroom closing the curtains behind you. This was definitely the worst day of your life. You had to bite your lip to fight the tears that were threatening to fall. Crying wouldn’t help anything at this point.

You ended up spending the night there. The boys brought you food before the sun came up, but you never said a word to them when you came to give you the food. You woke up the next day assuming that it was morning. Instead, it was six in the afternoon. The sun was probably already down. You groaned realizing that your mom was probably pissed right now.

A couple minutes later, Dwayne, Paul, and Marko walked in your ‘bedroom’. You sighed and sat on the bed trying not to look at them. Marko walked to the side of the bed you were closest on, and he showed you a teddy bear that he had been hiding behind his back. He gestured for you to grab it, and you hesitated before grabbing it. The bear was brown, and it had a big smile on its face. You looked over at Marko and he shrugged his shoulders with a grin. You smiled and hugged the teddy bear tightly letting your head rest on the toys head.

Paul walked over to you and showed you a cake he had been hiding behind his back. On the top of the cakes was writing made out of frosting that said “Sister?” on it. You chuckled and took the cake.

“Is this...breakfast?” You asked not exactly knowing what to name this meal.

“Hey, if you don’t want it, I’ll eat it,” Paul said laying down on the bed.

“Did you write this?” You asked Paul pointing at the writing on the cake.

Paul nodded.

“Well, you have terrible handwriting,” you giggled looking at the words on the cake that were so hard to make out. It looked like someone drunk had written it.

Paul glared at you before grabbing the teddy bear and throwing it at your face. While you were distracted, Paul took his chance and wrestled you down to the bed and grabbed the cake looking like he was about to drop it on your face. You screamed for him not to do it.

“Take back what you said!” Paul pretended to be angry, but you could tell that he was just playing. Though he probably would drop the cake on your face.

“I take it back!” You gave in and Paul put the cake down on the bed.

You looked over at Dwayne who looked like he was trying not to bring up the elephant in the room. “Where’s David?” You asked him.

“He went out.” Dwayne said with a frown on his face. “Look y/n, you’re not a full vampire yet, you’re half. In order to be full, you’ll have to make your first kill.”

You looked away from Dwayne. Your good mood was now gone. “Do I have to make a kill?”

“Well, it’s probably best that you shouldn’t right now,” Dwayne said which gave you some hope. “You’re pretty young, so it’d be best if you wait til you’re older. It’ll be hard, but you’ll be able to do it.”

You sighed. “Will I ever get to see my friends and family again?” You asked Dwayne.

“It’s probably best that you don’t. You won’t be going to school anymore, so it’d be hard to explain to people why you aren’t going,” Dwayne replied.

“I’m not going to school anymore?” You asked.

“Well, as long as you’re with us, then no,” Dwayne said. No school? You hated school. Maybe this life wouldn’t be so bad after all. Then you remembered about your mother. You couldn’t just stop seeing her. Even though she wasn’t the best mother, you still loved her.

“What about my family? I can’t just leave my mom. I’m all she has!” You told them.

“It’s probably best that you don’t see her. If you see her and she calls the police, it could be bad,” the brunette explained.

Your mom was probably worried sick about you. The least you could do was check up on her, and make sure she’s okay.

“Can i at least go check up on her? Just to see if she’s okay? I won’t talk to her, I’ll just look through the window,” you suggested.

Dwayne looked over at Marko and Paul for an answer. They both shrugged their shoulders.

“Okay,” Dwayne agreed. “But just this once.”

You were glad that they were letting you see your mother, but at the same time it felt like they were controlling your life. You didn’t choose to be like this, but now you can’t get out of it. All because of a stupid dare.

Dwayne drove you to your mothers house. It sucked because you wanted to see how she was doing, but you couldn’t speak to her. You could only look through the window. You hoped to god that this wasn’t the last time you’d ever see her. The thought of that made you sad.

You told Dwayne to stay on his motorcycle, and that you wouldn’t be long. As you walked over to the front window you noticed a car pulled up in the driveway that you had never seen before. You shrugged it off and decided not to pay much attention to it. You crouched down next to the window and took a look trying not to look suspicious.

When you looked inside your house, you saw that your mom was sitting down on the couch. She looked like she was talking to someone, but you couldn’t see who. Suddenly, someone walked over to her. It was some guy you had never seen before. He grabbed onto the back of her neck and started to kiss her. She definitely wasn’t trying to push him away. He ended up getting on top of her, and she let him.

Your breath hitched and you started to see red. You mother didn’t seem like she was worried about you. It looked like she was having the time of her life. You had been gone for almost a full day, and she cared so much about you that she was hooking up with some guy in your own house. You knew she wasn’t perfect, but this was crossing the line.

You felt tears start to form in your eyes, and you tried to blink them away. Some still fell, but you were so angry that you didn’t care. Angry and sad. Angry because you just realized that your own mother didn’t look like she cared that you hadn’t been home for almost a day. Sad because of the same reason. She obviously didn’t care. She cared more about alcohol and this random guy more.

Dwayne noticed you wiping away tears from your eyes as you walked back to his bike.

“Are you okay? What’s the matter?” He asked.

“Nothing. Just drive,” you ordered him as you hopped on the back of his motorcycle.

“Is she okay?” Dwayne turned around to face you. He saw that your lip quivered and that your eyes were watering.

“Yeah, she’s just perfect, okay?” You barked back not looking at him.

“Tell me what happened,” Dwayne said while grabbing onto your arm.

“Nothing! Just take me home!” You said with a slight whimper. Dwayne decided not to keep bothering you with the question. Obviously something happened, but you weren’t going to tell him. Dwayne was a little surprised that you told him to take you home. Because you meant the cave. You wanted to go back to them. Dwayne realized in that moment, that whatever you did see, made you not consider the place with your mom ‘home’ anymore.

Dwayne said nothing to you on the ride back to the cave. He didn’t want to upset you any more than you already were. Dwayne wasn’t planning on telling the other guys about what had happened. They’d probably get worried and shower you with more questions.

David was already back at the cave when both you and Dwayne came back. When you walked in, you noticed that Marko and Paul had big grins on their faces. Too bad you didn’t feel like smiling along with them.

“Where’d you guys go?” David asked.

“We went for a ride,” Dwayne said which was half the truth.

David nodded before standing up. “Y/n, I got you something.” You sighed. You weren’t exactly in the mood for any more gifts. All you wanted to do was lay down in bed for the rest of the night. It was a terrible day, and you felt like nothing in the world could make it better.

Before you could tell him that you weren’t in the mood, David pulled out a black leather jacket that looked around your size.

“I thought that sense you’re one of us, that you should look like us,” he said handing you the leather jacket. You took it in your hands and admired it for a few seconds. It wasn’t too crazy like Marko’s, but it did have some design. The front had some golden print, and some beads were stamped on the upper part of the sleeves. The edge of the sleeves also had some golden printing. There was no zipper or buttons. It looked like a smaller version of David’s jacket.

“If you don’t like it I could go get another one,” David suggested.

“No! No, I like it,” you said still admiring it. You had never owned a leather jacket before. Up until now of course.

“You could decorate it, too,” Marko said pointing to his very decorated jacket.

You still felt a little hurt from the past situation, but you weren’t sad anymore. You felt welcomed by the guys. Even though they’re vampires, they’re now your brothers. Whether you like it or not, that’s not going to change.

“Try it on,” Paul said and you obeyed. You pulled the sleeves over your arms and noticed that it was a perfect fit. David sure knew how to pick the right size and jacket. You couldn’t exactly look into a mirror to see how it would look, so you looked over to your new brothers.

“How do I look?” You asked them.

“Like one of us,” David said and you smiled.

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witcher-and-his-bard-archive · 4 years

Note

“No one has a romantic bone in their body anymore! What happened to playing songs outside windows, glitter and sparkles on handmade Valentine’s cards, dancing in the rain!? What happened?!” this screams jaskier to me, feel free to ignore (:

OH MY GOD. 100% it absolutely does. I tried so hard not to get carried away with this one. And yet...

Jaskier slumps in the seat across from Geralt, crossing his arms over the table and flopping onto them, head down. Is it too much to ask that people spare him a little common decency? Something more than just a quick fuck and out you go. It's not like he asks for much, just a few moments together before heading back off to whatever he's supposed to be doing. If all he wanted was a quick fuck, he'd go to a brothel.

"Should I even ask?" Geralt mutters. Jaskier sighs, lifts his head, sighs again.

“No one has a romantic bone in their body anymore! What happened to playing songs outside windows, glitter and sparkles on handmade Valentine’s cards, dancing in the rain!? What happened?!”

The look on Geralt's face is somewhere between fear and that of a man calculating his easiest route of escape. Jaskier suspects the latter is most likely.

"It's fine," he mutters, "better luck next time. I should prepare for my performance tonight. Will you stay to watch?"

"I have other matters to attend to."

"Ah. Right. Well, I'll try not to be too late."

"Hmm." Geralt doesn't even look at him as he rises from his seat and Jaskier wonders what the point of romance is when it's so hard to find. When even your very best friend in the whole wide world won't stay and watch you sing.

It's fine though. Geralt rarely stays to watch him perform anyway. Though usually he's preoccupied with a contract or keeping Jaskier from being mauled by the innkeeper's husband. Or wife. It just hits a little harder tonight because he's already been effectively turned down once.

Mathilde is a lovely woman, to be sure, but he's never been shooed away after sex quite so forcefully. As though he were a trespasser in her home. And to think, all he wanted was to cuddle a little and maybe talk. But it's fine, he can talk to Geralt later - once he's finished with his other matters.

Jaskier tries to push the thoughts from his head as he chooses his outfit for the night. They're in Vattweir and the inn is large enough and popular enough that he can wear something a little fancier. He picks one of his favourite doublets and the trousers to match - a lovely dark burgundy accented with gold - but even as he admires himself in the glass, he can't bring himself to be as cheerful as he should.

Everyone else's lack of romance is starting to wear off on him and if he doesn't pull himself together soon, he'll be going hungry. After all, what good is a poet without romance?

Jaskier is feeling a little better after his performance, though he turns down the many offers of company - he's not quite ready for any more potential rejection just yet. Already, he'll be going up to a cold and empty bed. And to think, he'd been quite pleased when the innkeep had said their only available room had only one bed. One bed! The perfect chance to cuddle up close to Geralt without it being suspicious! And now Geralt was off doing gods know what for an indeterminate amount of time. By the time he gets back, Jaskier will probably be long asleep, having dozed off alone again, as usual.

He doesn't hurry up to their room, dreading the cold sheets as he considers whether it's worth lighting a fire for only him. Maybe he could stay up and work on some writing, it's been some time since he's had time to just sit down and write uninterrupted. But as he reaches the landing, he finds he doesn't have the energy, not tonight. He's slept in colder places than an unheated room at an inn, he'll be fine.

But when he pushes the door in, it's not dark and cold as expected. In fact, it's quite warm and while the light is focused mainly in the centre of the room, it's also quite light. He pushes the door a little further, wondering if he chose the wrong room and when he peeks in, he nearly drops his lute on the ground.

In his rush to catch it, he stumbles and somehow winds up flush against Geralt's chest. Oh, and he smells wonderful. But- why? Muttering a hurried thank you, Jaskier extracts himself from Geralt's arms, stepping back to peer around him. So he wasn't just imagining things.

In the centre of the room is a little wooden table, just barely big enough for two people to sit at with a chair on either side, a plate of dinner at each setting. In the middle, barely squeezed between the plates, are a pair of candles and a small jar with a little bunch of purple flowers. He wants to cry but he doesn't know if it's because it's so beautifully laid out or just because he's tired and confused.

He turns back to Geralt to ask what exactly is going on, but as soon as his eyes land on him, he stops dead again. Geralt is dressed up. It's not much, a clean pair of trousers and a fresh white shirt with a waistcoat, but for Geralt it's extravagant. Jaskier suddenly finds it hard to breathe. He glances up and finds Geralt's hair neatly tied back, the loose bits tucked behind his ear, and when he can finally look him in the eye again, Geralt seems nervous.

He sets Jaskier's lute down, leaning it carefully against the wall before taking a couple of steps forward, closing the space between them.

"The chambermaid helped me," he shrugs, fiddling with the hem of his sleeve. "I know I'm not very good at this kind of thing."

Jaskier doesn't know what to say. He opens his mouth a couple of times hoping for inspiration, but nothing comes.

"I'm not one of your lovely maidens," Geralt mumbles, "but is it alright?"

Jaskier could cry. He might, actually, if he doesn't do something to occupy himself quite quickly. He takes a final step closer, taking Geralt's face in his hands and pressing a soft apprehensive kiss to the corner of Geralt's mouth. As he draws away, he keeps his eyes on him, boldened by softness he finds there.

"My darling Witcher," he whispers, "how could I ever want anything more?"

#rex writes #loved this one so much ty #geraskier #the witcher #replies #contemplativepancakes

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thusspoketrish · 3 years

Text

Play Pretend (Part 1/5)

TRIGGER WARNING (PLEASE READ THE TAGS. PLEASE READ THE TAGS. PLEASE READ THE TAGS): Depression. Suicide Attempt. Suicidal Ideation. PTSD. Poor Coping Mechanism.

Harry Potter & Astoria Greengrass; Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter; Astoria Greengrass/Draco Malfoy; Astoria Greengrass/Others; Draco Malfoy/Others; Harry Potter/Others

Content: Friendship. Forced Marriage Arrangement. Unrequited Love. Falling Out of Love. Falling in Love. Betrayal. Friendships. Breakups. Mental Health Issues. Apathy. Flatmates. Acceptance. Positive Thinking. Therapy.

SUMMARY: Fate boasts a strange sense of humour when a severely depressed Harry finds himself convincing a drunk Astoria Greengrass off the ledge of Waterloo Bridge at three in the morning. The events that follow after are an exercise in strength as Harry finds himself relearning how to cope, forgive, and love alongside the blossoming of new friendships.

Thank you to @starlitsilvereyes for the beta!

====================

At approximately 2:07 AM, Harry Potter shoves his arms through his black wool coat before wrapping his Gryffindor scarf tightly around his neck. He shoves on the misshapen scarlet mittens Hermione knitted for him several years ago, realising he could summon a better pair as she’s improved greatly since Hogwarts, but finding that these reminded him of a better time.

Finally, he shoves his wand up his sleeve before wrenching the door open and taking the steps down from Grimmauld two at a time, the door slamming shut behind him with a finality. As he breathes in and out sharply, white puffs curling outward from his chapped lips, Harry looks skyward. The moon is heavy and hangs low tonight, full and beautiful as swirls of snow begin to gently fall. It’s dark, and beautiful, and it hurts to look at.

Harry had spent the entire day cleaning Grimmauld from top to bottom. Not that this mattered as Harry has found that no matter how much he cleaned or remodelled the house, he was incapable of penetrating its doom-and-gloom atmosphere. But he had cleaned to the best of his ability, and had arranged all his necessary documents across his office table several hours ago. He carefully placed each note facing upward, the individual names of all his friends in his spidery scrawl. He had even left notes behind for the Dursley’s, though, not imparting a single kind word, as seen in his other letters. He had left the Gringotts keys of the Potter Vault behind in Ron and Hermione’s name and endowed a small trust to any future children they may have. He had left the deed and keys to Grimmauld and the Black vault to Teddy and Andromeda.

Harry doesn’t think he left any stone unturned.

He had been planning this for months. Had made the nearly 40-minute walk from Clerkenwell to Waterloo Bridge nearly every night for the last three weeks, simply staring out at the water, yearning. It would take nothing, he thought, to sit on the ledge, cast a simple spell to increase his weight, and fling himself over the edge. And at three in the morning, it wouldn’t be hard to do this uninterrupted.

A numb sort of blankness overcomes him as he rolls his shoulders and makes his way through the quiet roads, onto the high street where the slow crawl of busses and cars creep past. Harry’s vision is a tunnel of black and white images flickering in and out of focus as he sets himself on autopilot. He could do this route with his eyes closed.

It’s not that Harry thinks he deserves to die. He’s simply come to the conclusion that he wants to.

He’s tired, much too tired from the debilitating numbness that’s crippled his entire existence. He’s remained frozen in time since dying and coming back to life in the Forbidden Forest. The experience has left him immobile, like a statue, weathered by the storm called time but never feeling the effects of it no matter how long he holds his breath, patiently waiting for something to come along and happen. He was waiting for the spark of life to feed his blood as it had during the war, and nothing, no reason or rhyme, has been able to replace it. He had quit the Aurors, had isolated himself from the pitying expressions of friends and family, and had shrunken himself on the outside to reflect what he felt on the inside—absolutely nothing. He was nothing, a lingering afterthought in his own mind, something ugly and broken with a piece of its soul missing. He couldn’t stand to live with that knowledge any longer.

It was no one’s fault, not directly. Harry’s never been whole, not as a child curled up and forgotten in the cupboard under the stairs; not as a child, shaped into a sacrificial soldier, not as a twenty-three year old man, alone, shrouded in the dark cloak of night, ready to end his life.

The black and purple swirls of fog and clouds paint a pretty backdrop for the breathtaking view of the Thames, the London Eye, and Parliament from Harry’s position on the bridge. It’s the only time his vision shifts to full-colour, when he’s standing on the bridge, hands gripping the cold railing as he peers over, his glasses sliding slowly down his nose. He uses a mittened finger to push them back up, a hollow laugh escaping him as he reaches deep down inside of himself to search for a feeling, anything. He wishes for even a fissure of panic as he places both hands on the railing again, wondering if 100kg added to his feet would successfully prevent his ability to kick back up to the surface.

A harsh wind whips by, and with it carrying a whimper. Harry turns, his gaze sharpening, harping on an elongated figure further down the bridge perched on the railing.

He turns back to the water, staring out at the inky black waves. He shouldn’t care.

The whimper turns into full on sobbing.

He shouldn’t care. He doesn’t.

Then, there’s a horrible scream of anguish that pierces the quiet, the sound full of devastation. He blinks several times, pushing his glasses up again. He may not have the ability to care for his own well-being anymore but he still...he still seems to care about others.

With a sigh, Harry walks to the centre of the bridge, noticing a lone figure down the road walking towards them before abruptly stopping and turning away from them.

Harry ignores them, and instead approaches the person perched on the railing. He can see that the person is wearing a black, long-sleeved ballgown, tiny sparkling beads of emerald green, gold, red, and silver shimmering in the moonlight, taking the shape of exploding fireworks across her bodice along the back of the dress. It’s beautiful, and Harry gasps when the woman turns to face him.

He’s seen this woman before, has seen her pretty pale face at the Slytherin table at Hogwarts. Her long black hair whips across her flushed face, mascara-tinged tears sliding down her cheeks. Her red lipstick is smeared across her lips and down her chin, piercing blue eyes unfocussed as she sways side-to-side.

“What do you want?” the woman asks miserably, her voice slurring, intoxicated. Harry steps closer to her, as if she’s a wild animal ready to leap away from him. The woman’s lips turn down into a terrible wound of a frown, misshapen by the smeared lipstick. “Did he send you?” she cries.

“No,” Harry says, not knowing who she’s talking about as he slowly approaches her. “Why don’t you come down?” he asks, extending an opened hand.

The woman’s gaze twists from Harry back out to the dark depths of the Thames. Harry inches closer.

Another whimper escapes her. “He doesn’t love me,” she cries, her body shaking as she weeps.

“There are people out here who love you,” Harry says, wincing. How many times has Ron and Hermione said this very thing to him over the last year?

“But not him!” she shouts, her shoulders trembling, the harsh winds whip her hair. “I’ve tried everything. I’ve even given him all of me, all my love, all my hopes and my bloody dreams, and nothing. Nothing I do makes him look at me…at me...as if,” the woman breaks off, a trembling cry escaping her before she shouts, “Why...why not me?”

“He doesn’t deserve you,” Harry says, his voice carrying on the winds, tone firm. A small spark of indignation is felt in his chest. This woman, this woman is suffering, and it’s fuelling a knife-sharp sensation alongside his slow-beating heart. He wants to touch her, see if he can pull her grief into him, see if it’ll help him feel his own, for once.

The woman tilts her head back, a wail escaping her. “I don’t deserve him! I can’t help him, I can’t even bloody keep him. I’m useless.”

“Stop it, don’t put yourself down like this. He doesn’t deserve you...you’re stronger than this pain, this numbness you’re experiencing, and you know it. You know you can do so much better than him, that your life and your hopes and dreams outweighs whatever the fuck you think he sees when he looks at you. You don’t need anything from him, not when you’re this strong,” Harry says, shaking his head. He doesn’t know where these words are coming from, they feel foreign to his own ears. A part of him wonders if he wished someone would say this to him. “What’s your name?”

The woman draws in a shaky breath before she answers in a tiny, strained voice, “Astoria. Astoria Greengrass.”

Harry nods, now remembering her, remembering where he’s seen her name lately. “Come, Astoria. You have so much to offer the world. You’re strong, but sometimes even the strongest among us have bad days, but that doesn’t make us worthless,” Harry says, the feeling in his chest swelling, lighting him on fire from the inside. Harry gasps. “You’re worth fighting for, you’re...let me...let me fight for you, Astoria, until you can fight for yourself. Please...please, take my hand. You don’t have to do this...you don’t have to do this alone.” He’s now beside her.

A wicked wind whips past them again, the snow falling now coming down in thick, fluffy sheets. Astoria huffs out another sob before she turns around, her hand stretching out.

Harry clasps it, pulling her forward. She wraps her arms around his neck, digging her face into this layered scarf, clinging to him like a lifeline. They both sink to the ground as she weeps. The cold stings the trail of tears on Harry’s own cheeks.

She smells like the cold, along with lingering scent of bergamot orange and rosewood. He knows it's a combination of scents he'll never forget as he cradles her against his chest before quickly opening his coat to wrap around her shivering form.

All the while, feeling more alive than he has since the day he died.

#HP fanfiction #Harry Potter #Astoria Greengrass #drarry #Astoria x Harry #Astoria x draco #Draco Malfoy #trigger warnings #please read the warnings #series #will update #1/5

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lit-in-thy-heart · 3 years

Note

hehe im glad you joined us for the hug prompts! I'll ask you for 14 - leaping hug with... mergwaine! hopefully that works for you otherwise second option for a ship would be mercelot!

thank you for the prompt!!! you will notice a theme with the other prompts (and each one that came in made me grin even more, you'll see why throughout this week) and i'll stick this under the cut because it is quite long for a prompt, i'm sorry.

hope that you enjoy it! 💖

feel free to send any other prompts

It was when Merlin’s eyes started to lose the mirth that Gwaine had suggested lightening their load with a game. Merlin had been reluctant, at first, to stray from the task at hand, but Gwaine had pointed out that they were halfway through the army’s boots and that they needed to take some sort of break before their arms cramped up.

Quite how hurling boots across the throne room alleviated the tension in their arms, Merlin wasn’t entirely sure. ‘Only with the ones we haven’t cleaned yet, right?’ he uncertainly asked Gwaine, picking up one particularly muddy boot.

Gwaine, having swung two boots over his shoulders, flicked back his hair. ‘Your choice, Merlin. We can either scuff the clean boots, or have to clean mud off the throne afterwards. Which I see as a rather appropriate metaphor.’

Frowning, Merlin turned over the boot in his hands. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, it’s always the common people cleaning the king’s image, isn’t it? Sanitising it. He’s always idolised by them, when he never deserves it.’

Mouth set in a grim line, Gwaine retreated to the back of the throne room and gripped the shaft of the boot, swinging it around his head and sending mud flying in all directions. As Merlin sheltered his head with one arm, Gwaine let go of the boot and watched with a satisfied smirk as it sailed across the room and landed firmly on the throne. The dim sunlight scattered across his face painted him in a mosaic of stained glass and Merlin’s hand faltered slightly, boot beginning to slip through his grasp.

Sparing Merlin a brief glance, Gwaine removed the second boot from his shoulder and squinted up at the balcony behind him. Merlin, catching his meaning, really did drop the boot as he held out a hand. ‘No. No way. Arthur will string both of us up, now that I’ve put that idea in his head, if you do that.’

With a shrug, Gwaine dutifully turned away. ‘I believe it’s your turn.’

Picking up the boot again, the servant adjusted his grip and moved to stand beside Gwaine and flung it towards the throne. His arms, already weary from cleaning at least fifteen boots, didn’t provide enough power and the boot crashed into the polite queue stretching across the floor, scattering them like birds after a stone had been hurled at them. Gwaine suppressed a snort.

‘In my defence, I’m usually the one getting things thrown at me,’ Merlin muttered, approaching the chaos with a small sigh.

Gwaine’s eyebrows drew together. ‘Who throws things at you?’

‘The townspeople when I’m in the stocks. Arthur. The knights, sometimes. Arthur again—’

‘Why does Arthur throw things at you?’

Merlin, his back still to Gwaine as he rummaged through the footwear to find the boot, shrugged. ‘Because he feels like it, I suppose. It’s fine. I’m used to it.’

‘And I thought you said he was different.’

‘He is different,’ Merlin replied, finding the boot and turning around. ‘It’s just that—Gwaine!’

Gwaine was clinging to the central statue,shaft of the boot between his teeth, his legs wrapped seductively around its waist as he tried to hoist himself up. There was a muffled: ‘What?’ and he twisted his head with an attempt at a grin.

‘You’re going to fall off.’

‘M’not.’

Shimmying up the statue, Gwaine reached up for the wrists of the two angels, hauling up his feet from the shoulders of the statue to the sculpted towers above, lurching unsteadily. Merlin desperately wanted to look away, but couldn’t bring himself to alter the direction of his gaze. He felt his eyes slide down Gwaine’s body and rest on his very prominent arse as he squatted momentarily and, catching himself, Merlin pushed his stare to what seemed to be the safe region of Gwaine’s shoulders.

Then Gwaine moved and the muscles in his shoulders bulged beneath his shirt. Merlin could feel the heat rising in his neck. As Gwaine’s foot slipped, Merlin darted towards the statue, hand outstretched to intervene if necessary. Regaining his footing, Gwaine’s hands caught the railings of the balcony and he tumbled over the top, landing with a muffled thump.

‘Arthur is actually going to kill me.’

Leaning over the balcony, Gwaine removed the boot and spat out flakes of mud with a look of disgust. ‘I’ll protect you, Merlin, don’t worry,’ he said, taking a knife from his boot and throwing it in the air with a grin.

It catapulted through the air and embedded itself in the floorboards only inches from Merlin, who had watched its progress with an ever-increasing sense of doom. ‘You saying that fills me with feelings of safety, Gwaine,’ Merlin drily said, folding his arms. ‘There’s no way that you’re going to be able to get that boot to hit the mark.’

‘Not without you up here for moral support.’

Merlin took one look at him, bathed in sunlight, and sighed heavily. Wordlessly, he pushed through one of the doors leading to a narrow staircase – why Gwaine hadn’t elected that route, Merlin was none the wiser – and ascended them two steps at a time, emerging onto the balcony. When Gwaine turned, his head was haloed by the rich woven threads of his hair, face illuminated by his smile. With a wink, he backed up as much as he could, took three decisive strides, and launched the boot over the railings. It curled in on itself as it sliced through the air in a graceful arc, mud spraying the floor like droplets of water from a salmon leaping upstream. It landed in the centre of the throne with a shudder from the sudden breeze it had created.

When Merlin looked towards Gwaine, his eyes travelled down to the exposed skin of his chest as he leaned over the railings and hastily drew his gaze to Gwaine’s smile. ‘See? Having you near me makes all the difference. Now, your turn.’

Merlin raised his eyebrows. ‘If I couldn’t do it down there, what on earth makes you think I could achieve what you just did?’

Levering himself from the railings, Gwaine stood in front of him, hands firmly on his shoulders. ‘Believe in yourself a little, Merlin. Anyway, being higher up actually makes it easier.’

Still unconvinced, Merlin gripped the shaft of the boot a little tighter. He cast one more look at Gwaine to give him the strength to aim as his friend moved away to give him space. Drawing his arm back, Merlin focused his gaze on the stern throne, pictured Arthur’s face when he’d said about there being no downside to Merlin being strung up, and hurled the shoe with all his remaining energy.

It shot through the air, collided with the top of the throne and dropped down on top of Gwaine’s.

In one smooth motion, Gwaine had launched himself at Merlin, hugging him in the same manner he’d embraced the statue. Merlin, thankful that he was steady on his feet for once, laughed into Gwaine’s neck and put one arm beneath his thighs to support him. There was the faintest scent of pickled eggs buried in the depths of Gwaine’s hair but Merlin didn’t mind it as much as he would have thought. There was a murmured phrase of congratulations breathed into the echoing crevice between his neck and neckerchief and both parties were vaguely aware that the appropriate time had elapsed for physical contact, but neither moved to detach themselves.

As Merlin marvelled at how much lighter Gwaine was than he’d expected, Gwaine was busy wondering if it would be possible to push down Merlin’s trousers with his legs and believably claim it was an accident. He wasn’t quite sure what had possessed him to launch himself at Merlin, though perhaps it had been prompted by the smile of disbelief that had spread across his mouth like the dawn when the boot had hit its target. And if this was the first victory that Merlin had secured in a short while, then Gwaine had thought that it deserved to be honoured properly.

Adjusting his grip so his hands fell to Merlin’s shoulders, Gwaine inhaled the delicate aroma of cinnamon that had folded itself in Merlin’s clothes. Perhaps he could be happy here, in Merlin’s arms. If Merlin didn’t get tired of him, that was. Beneath his body, Merlin shifted, other arm skimming Gwaine’s thighs. His head was still turned towards Gwaine’s neck, their cheeks grazing gently against each other, and Gwaine resisted the urge to nip at the skin covering the top of Merlin’s spine. One collision at a time. He was just about to try and push down Merlin’s trousers – because that wasn’t a collision, that was simply testing the waters – when the door below them crashed open and Merlin dropped his arms, startled.

Gwaine’s legs dropped with them and he slipped down, dangling from Merlin’s neck with his feet several inches above the ground. Tentatively, Merlin leaned forward to peer over the balcony and Gwaine swung with him, eyes moving with a growing sense of dread to the disrupted line of boots. Arthur was stood in the centre of the room, arms folded, with a stony expression sketched across his face.

‘One of you had better have a very good explanation for why exactly you are up there.’

Merlin and Gwaine turned to look at each other, and Gwaine’s witty reply was lost along with his breath as he caught sight of subtle flecks of gilt in Merlin’s eyes. As he grasped for words that he no longer had, Merlin twisted his head to look back at Arthur. ‘I was giving Gwaine a tour.’

‘I’ll be giving you both a tour of the stocks if you don’t get down here instantly,’ Arthur threatened.

As Gwaine detached himself from the servant, he let his hand run discreetly across the back of Merlin’s shirt, smirking at the subtle shiver Merlin emitted. Perhaps if he stuck around, then perhaps he could see just where else Merlin could successfully aim.

#essentially i'm incapable of writing short prompts #thanks again for the prompt!#i know that the hug wasn't the main focus but hopefully it's okay :)#oncefutureemrys #merlin #gwaine #merwaine #bbc merlin #fluff #lit writes #hug prompts

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respectablesentiment · 3 years

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A hand tears at Dina’s hood, another grabs her ankle, dragging her back until she can kick it off. By the time she looks up, a runner has broken through the fence, Ellie is yelling and on her back, pushing and shoving and attempting to hold it away from her. -- prompt: abandonment, day 5 of elliedina week this is a sequel to day 4, please read 'warmth' first to understand the background. AU where Ellie was never bitten, until she is. set the day after the winter dance. Dina POV.

(day 1: ache) | (day 2: dawn) | (day 3: trouble) | (day 4: warmth)

or you can read ‘gone’ here:

gone

Dina gets the girl. Finally.

They dance long into the night, swaying together until the band packs up.

Ellie had always been so hard to wrangle, reluctant to show up and unwilling to join in. It seemed like all the tension melted from her body when their lips touched, her smile was warm and dopey, her eyes full of hope and disbelief, and all protests about dancing faded in her reverie.

Ellie’s arms around her were warm and protective, her cheek brushing against Dina’s was soft, and Dina just couldn’t stop kissing her.

It felt like a daydream.

Dina wanted to take it slow, not push too soon. They part that night with a tender smile and the promise of tomorrow. She spends most of the night lying awake, grinning to herself in the darkness. She’d cared for Ellie deeply for a long time, felt an instant connection to the awkward silent girl who showed up with tear-stained cheeks and a wistful smile.

There was something about her that stuck out, that both rattled and called Dina to her.

It never really made sense until she saw Ellie with Cat and then the confusing feelings swirling in her stomach crystallised into spikes.

It made her more determined to make things work with Jesse, but they knew that the love between them was just friendship and convenience. She’ll always be thankful for him and his calm presence, a steady ship in the storm, content to sit beside her silently on the anniversaries of darker days and eager to encourage her to follow her heart.

He eyes them warningly the next morning before patrol, running through his normal instructions with an additional plea to be safe.

The sky is clear and the day is bright.

And then it isn’t.

A snowstorm takes them off the road, into an old library where they lose themselves for a couple of hours until the weather lightens.

Ellie is eager to move on, to finish running the route so they can return without worrying everyone.

They must have been in the eye of the storm then, unknowing and hopeful, ignorant to what was ahead of them.

The sky grew darker and the snow picked up obscuring their vision.

They leave their horses when they spot a lone runner ahead. Ellie slowly creeping forward to grab it. A broken street sign creaking in the wind.

When Ellie is halfway, she freezes.

It takes Dina a second longer to hear it, to registers the groans around them. Staggering footsteps. Then snarls and screeches.

She rushes forward just as Ellie rushes back, grasping at one another before sprinting onwards.

“Run,” Ellie says breathlessly. “We have to run.”

Dina is terrified, scrambling down a steep hill, losing her footing at times and sliding to keep momentum. They pass several houses, twisting and turning in the darkness, and her socks are wet from the creeks they splash through.

They’re so close, just behind them and beside them and ahead of them as they zigzag across the rooftops of buses.

“Here!” Ellie shouts just as Dina feels there’s no escape, vaulting over a fence.

Dina follows, heart racing as they search for a way forward.

There’s Infected slamming on the gate.

A narrow passageway down the side of the building in front of them, protected only by a chain link fence.

Dina pushes Ellie forward, following her closely as they run, the fence crumples under the weight, Ellie’s hand finds hers as they shimmy along, backs pressed to the wall as they attempt to avoid the hands grasping for them.

The fence crumples further, and before Dina realises they are crawling.

Forward, forward, forward.

A hand tears at Dina’s hood, another grabs her ankle, dragging her back until she can kick it off.

By the time she looks up, a runner has broken through the fence, Ellie is yelling and on her back, pushing and shoving and attempting to hold it away from her.

Dina shoots before she can think about it.

Pure instinct and adrenaline.

She helps Ellie to her feet, tugging her forwards as more come through the fence.

Ellie looks shaken, blood splattered across her face, but there’s no time.

“Come on, there’s too many,” Dina says. “Run, go!” She covers her, shooting a few as they make it through before continuing.

“Here, here!” Ellie yells, throwing a molotov at the Infected approaching from the other end of the hallway.

They take the door to their right, barricading it before taking a breath. The door slams and jumps unnervingly in front of them.

“There’s so many,” Ellie says quietly.

Dina is panting, her hands on her knees and her heart in her throat. “Where the hell did they come from?”

“Doesn’t matter, we gotta find a way out,” Ellie says, her jaw clenched as she moves forward.

Ellie peers through the gaps in the boarded-up windows, antsy and restless.

Dina searches for supplies and weapons as quickly as she can, tossing a steel bar to Ellie.

“Watch the windows,” Ellie says quietly, moments before a runner climbs through.

They put at least four down before they move forward again. It’s only then that Dina recognises where they are, the old gondola station.

Ellie curses under her breath. “Quick, help me with this,” she asks, shutting the door beside them and tipping one of the large lockers into place to hold it shut. “That won’t last long.”

“We gotta move,” Dina says, scanning their surroundings. “The window, we just need a boost.” She’s still desperately searching as they’re rushed again.

They work together to take care of it, aware of the splintering door behind them.

Together they push one of the gondolas back onto a trolley, moving it over to the window to climb over and out.

“Forward, forward,” Ellie chants. “Come on, go!”

There’s more outside than Dina can count, climbing over cars, rushing closer and closer in the snowstorm.

“Here, this door!” Ellie yells, shooting a runner as it comes almost come enough to grab her.

They get inside, lungs burning and Dina holds the door shut as Ellie fits a solid plank of wood in the barricade brackets.

“You okay?” Ellie asks, turning to her, her eyes are wide and fearful as she grips Dina’s shoulders to look her over. “Are you alright? Did they touch you?” Ellie demands, she pushes at Dina’s sleeves, pulls at the collar of her jacket to examine her neck.

It’s only then that Dina sees it.

The stain on Ellie’s sleeve, the tear in her jacket, the bite on her arm.

“You-” Dina stammers, heart cracking in her chest.

“Are you alright?” Ellie demands again.

Dina nods jerkily, clutching at Ellie. “Ellie-”

Tears streaming down her cheeks.

“We can’t stay here,” Ellie says, looking back to the door. “You need to keep moving.”

“Ellie,” Dina sobs brokenly.

Ellie is more focused on another doorway behind them, slipping out of Dina’s grasp to pile things against it. “Help me with this?” She asks, putting all of her weight behind moving a solid table in front of the door.

Dina doesn’t move, watching as Ellie successfully moves the table, stacking more furniture to barricade the smaller door before shifting her focus back to the main door.

Her eyes trace Ellie’s jaw line, the hair escaping her bun, the slope of her nose, the curve of her lips, the constellations of freckles she’d never be able to fully memorise.

“-okay? Dina? Dina!” Ellie pleads. “Are you listening?”

“I- yeah,” Dina says lamely, her thirst dry and her words quiet. Ellie’s eyes were the most beautiful shade of green she’d ever seen and she doesn’t know if she’s ever been able to tell her that.

“I need you to go, okay? You need to run. They’re just on this side for now and I can hold them off,” Ellie says, calm and resolute. There’s an edge behind her eyes that Dina’s never seen.

“I love you,” Dina says breathlessly, almost a whisper.

Ellie’s expression falters for a second before it becomes guarded once again.

“I never- I never got to tell you, I didn’t want to push too fast,” Dina says, stumbling over her words as they spill out of her, clinging to Ellie’s jacket. “But I do. I love you, as my best friend and more. I’m in love with you,” Dina continues, pressing herself against Ellie, her forehead against Ellie’s. “I don’t know for how long. You’re my favourite person, you’re wonderful and beautiful and kind and funny, and I love you.” The words rush out of her.

“Dina-”

“You’re so strong and so brave and I love you so much,” Dina says, the words are angry now and she smacks her fists against Ellie’s chest. “I love you so fucking much,” she sobs, hot tears streaming down her face.

“I’m so sorry, Dina,” Ellie says, acknowledging it finally. “I’m so sorry.” She clings to Dina in return, the embrace almost crushing.

The pounding grows louder.

“You have to go,” Ellie pleads. “I need you to go.”

“I can’t leave you,” Dina whimpers. “I can’t.”

“I’m already gone,” Ellie murmurs, the look in her eyes is indescribably and it only serves to make Dina cry harder.

“Ellie, no, please no,” Dina sobs, vision blurred by tears, heart lying somewhere near her feet.

“Go,” Ellie repeats solemnly. “Tell Joel and Tess that I love them, that I’m sorry, and that I’ll always be thankful for everything they’ve given me.” She cups Dina’s cheeks in her hands, looking at her searchingly.

Dina nods. “I promise,” she stammers.

“I love you too,” Ellie tells her, kissing Dina firmly. She squares her shoulders, the weight of the world bearing down on her. “I’ll hold them off,” she mutters, turning away. “It’s my turn.”

Dina barely catches her words, her heartbeat loud and punishing in her ears. She doesn’t move.

“Please, Dina,” Ellie pleads, looking back to her. “I’m already gone, just go, please!” Ellie pleads, the look in her eyes is indescribable and it only serves to make Dina cry harder.

“I love you,” Dina repeats brokenly, wiping at her face roughly. “I love you so much, forever.”

“I love you too,” Ellie replies.

Her words sound like an apology.

“Please go.”

So she does.

#tlou2 fanfic #my writing #elliedina week #there will be more of this one #my outline puts it at 4 chapters #apologies for the angst #please let me know what you think #can you tell idk how to format posts cause i don't

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ultimate-distaster-material · 3 years

Text

-Saiouma Oneshots- Kindergarten Teacher! Kokichi x Parent! Shuichi

>Quick Disclaimer< In this story, Monaca is nice- Her legs are actually disabled as well. I tried to mention everyone who is in the actual story's POVS. The adults are 22 whereas the kids are 5. Kirigiri and Shuichi are childhood friends too.

This story is very long, it was made to show my appreciation for all of the support. Sorry it took so long for me to update.

!TW!

Family Issues

Mentions Trauma

Mentions Dead Bodies

kIsSinG (Ok I'll stop)

KOKICHI POV

“So, Nagisa. I heard you’re getting a new caretaker?”

I looked at Nagisa, pitying the poor boy. He never had good parents. They would always force the youngling to work, days over days, sometimes hitting him to help him stay awake. That’s his reason for being very smart at a young age.

I would always stay here with him in the afternoon, occupying him so he doesn’t have to go back home.

“Mhm! I heard he’s a boy, I hope he’s nice!”

I smiled at the small boy. Even with all the despair he has been through during his life, he still had a glimpse of hope resting in his heart. I admired him for this, he was very strong for pulling through all the drama, especially as a child.

“Y’know, I’m gonna miss going here when I grow up. Will I ever see you again?”

“I mean, I could probably get in contact with your new caretaker, and could visit you once in a while…”

“I don’t wanna leave this place…”

I comforted him as his tears threatened to fall from his eyes, tracing random designs on his back, listening to his troubles. I suddenly heard a knock on the door. I energetically got up from my seat, Nagisa following close behind me, and then opened the door.

There was a man with teal blue hair and a detective uniform standing at the door. He looked kinda sexy-

“Hello, Mr. Detective~ You here for something?”

He stared at me before handing me a few slips of paper. Adoption papers? Wha-

“Who are you?”

Nagisa was a little scared, as he was a detective. The poor boy probably thought that the man was here for something serious.

I hushed Nagisa as I pulled him infront of me, giving him a good view of the man.

“My apologies…I’m Shuichi Saihara. Nice to meet you.”

I nodded at him and decided to introduce Nagisa and myself/

“I’m Kokichi Ouma, and this is Nagisa. Judging by the adoption papers, I’m guessing you’re here for Nagisa?”

He nodded and shook the hand I held out to him. He had such a calming voice…

“Are you mean?”

“I promise I’m no-“

“You smell like coffee.

“Wha-“

“Nagisa, it’s not ok to interrupt people y’know.”

Nagisa muttered a small ‘sorry’ to me and the man before getting his bag. He peered up at me with teary eyes. I could tell he didn’t want to go with a new parent, due to trust issues. I sighed and pat him on the head.

“You better take care of him.”

Shuichi smiled at me, reassuring that everything was going to be fine. I held out my phone with my contacts open.

“Phone number?”

I asked him as he took my phone (and ran off with it) and he handed me his, and we both entered each other’s phone number. Nagisa smiled as I showed him my phone, his eyes gleaming with hope and joy. I couldn’t help but smile back at him. Shuichi even grinned at us placing his hands gently on Nagisa’s shoulder. I waved them goodbye as they waved back, Nagisa ranting to Shuichi about me. I’m glad I was able to make him happy. I walked around the small room, arranging everything back into its normal places and counting all the items to see if they were still there. 10 paint brushes, 2 art easels, 20 pencils, 5 paint palettes, 40 books and 7 whiteboard markers. Looks like I’m running low on markers, I’ll grab some in the morning. I smiled and locked the door behind me. I strolled down the street under the glowing sky, showing colours of orange, yellow, red, and peach. I sat calmly at the bus stop, taking off my painting apron and stuffing it into my bag neatly. I placed earplugs into my ears and started playing my favourite playlist.

Soon the bus arrived, squeaking its brakes as it parked into the bus stop. I sighed and planted my feet onto the ground as boarded the bus. It didn’t take long to get home.

||Time Skip Cuz Lazy||

I jingled my keys as I brought them out of my pocket, slotting them into the lock and opening the doors to the kindergarten. I walked in, turning on the fans by a little, and the lights. I began to write whatever was happening onto the big whiteboard and restocked my pens. I smiled as children and parent sprawled into the room, yet keeping an eye out for Nagisa. If he had any new scars or bruises, or darker eyebags, Shuichi won’t be waking up the next day. I waited about five minutes, everyone was here, but the two people I had been waiting for.

Suddenly, the doors swung open, and I spotted Shuichi giving the small child a piggy-back ride. I smiled as they both grinned back at me, Nagisa climbing off the adults back and running over to me.

“Kokichi! You won’t believe it! He let me use his magnifying glass and we went to the park. He even pushed me on the swing! I love my new dad!”

I grinned wider, glad Shuichi was giving him a good treatment. He even said he loved him.

“That’s great Nagisa! I’m grateful that Shuichi has been treating you right.”

Shuichi lovingly hugged Nagisa.

“I better go, or I’ll be late for work! Bye, have a good day you two! I love both of you!”

The young boy I waved goodbye as the detective briskly walked out of the kindergarten building, waving us goodbye, blushing. Wait, he loved both of us…?

||POV Change||

SHUICHI POV

I walked out the door, blushing crazily. I can’t believe I said that. I’m so embarrassed…

I hopped into the car, driving down to the detective agency. When I had first met Kokichi, I thought he looked a little cute, but I just ignored my thoughts. I’ll just tell him I was talking Nagisa and his non-existent imaginary friend…yeah I’ll just do that.

I arrived at the agency, closing the door gently behind me and taking in a deep breath. The aroma of coffee wafted around the area. No wonder I smelt like coffee…According to Nagisa anyways.

“Good morning Mr. Saihara. You looked like you’ve slept well!”

My partner, detective Kirigiri. I grinned at her, starting to tell her about Nagisa. She nodded at me while I spoke, thankful that I finally had something to cheer me up. I had been so busy with work lately that I was so tired to even show much emotion.

“So, Shuichi. We have a new case to work on.”

“Hm? What’s it about?”

“Just a new murder case, the usual.”

I nodded at her getting my file reports organized and ready. She gave me some evidence, suspect reports, reports of the victim and the time and place of the murder.

“It seemed to be planned too…”

I muttered as she passed over a small picture which showed the room.

“Huh?”

I pointed at the picture, spotting a nearly invisible ‘escape route plan’ peeking out of the screen. You could only see half of it though.

“That’s new…”

“Wait…How did you know this wasn’t there? Weren’t you at the crime scene?”

“It was a photo in the victims camera roll. You were correct, I was there, but it seems like the killer needed this to escape.”

“That makes sense.”

“So, the killer must’ve either been scared they would mess up, has a bad memory or had minimum time to figure this out…”

She agreed with me and pointed to the wall again, pointing back to the photo.

“There seems to be something white in the vents that we never checked.”

She stated bluntly while narrowing her eyes to get a better look.

“You’re right! Why didn’t you check the vents though…?”

“Rats.”

“Wha-“

I shrugged it off and looked back at Kyoko, then the picture again. She smirked at me and placed a hand on my shoulder.

“You wanna check it out, don’t you.”

“Kinda-“

“Well, what are you waiting for?”

I followed her out of the building, and we entered the car park, halting to a stop right infront of a shining, neon purple motorcycle. It gleamed in the sunlight and Kyoko continued to smirk at me.

“Chickening out?”

“N-No..”

“Good.”

She grabbed a helmet off the dark purple handlebars and gave it to me, claiming to have a spare one in her bag that she could wear. Which she did.

She hopped onto the motorcycle, gesturing for me to do the same. I gulped and lifted my leg over the seat and sat down, trembling.

“Hold on tight!”

I didn’t hesitate to do exactly as she told me. She revved the engine, and we took off down the road, her purple hair flowing viciously in the wind. I was petrified. We were going veryfast. I gulped as I felt the wind blow in my face. I rested my chin on Kirigiri’s shoulder, avoiding her purple hair flowing into my face as we raced around the city. The city lights were blurred, and people looked like smudge marks. I peered down at the road, barely able to adjust to the distorted white line and concrete. I felt a sickening dizziness, and my head just couldn’t keep up with my blurry surroundings. Yet, I felt like I was in heaven. The glorious wind blowing in my face, the soothing noises of the motorcycle engine, and the feel of Kyoko’s warmth. I closed my eyes, loosing touch with everything around me. I was in my own little world. That was, until I sensed the motorcycle slow to a halt and Kyoko’s small weight lift off the motorcycle. But since I was laying on her, she lifted me up too without realizing, and my body went tumbling forward, Kyoko’s doing the same.

“Sorry…”

I sighed and apologized, staring at the ground. She arose from the ground, dusting off her uniform and patting me delicately on my back.

“No worries, Saihara-Kun. Just be careful next time.”

I nodded as we barged into the murder scene, nobody being there.

“Watch out. We cannot predict anything. Expect the unexpected.”

I remembered her wise words and examined the room, Kirigiri assisting me by lifting me up, since I weighed less, and I unscrewed the vents to see a rat. Great. I sneakily snatched the paper and Kyoko lowered me back down to the ground, peering over my shoulder to see if anything useful was written on the small piece of white paper. It read,

Sorry, my dear friend.

“So, the victim was the culprit’s friend….

“Seems so.”

“Wait, why wasn’t it near the victim then?”

“When we arrived, the fan was on, making it completely possible to blow into the vents, in which the paper could slip through, and the rats could’ve possibly taken it.”

I nodded to show my agreement and we inspected the room a little longer. I spotted her typing on her phone a few moments later, sighing.

“Saihara-Kun.”

“Y-Yes?”

“Are you gonna leave your kid at kindergarten or…”

Shuichi blankly stared down at his wrist, reading the time.

2:12

Nagisa’s kindergarten ended at 2:00. He was over the other side of the city. He would be very late, as they had no car.

“Take my motorcycle. I want to stay a bit longer anyways.”

“Really? Thank you Kirigiri-San!”

I rushed out of the building, grabbing a sleek blue helmet and boarded the motorcycle. The wheels screeched as I raced across the city, my hair spasming in the wind. The motorbike’s wheels whirred as they rolled along the road, forcing the motorbike to drive faster. My hands gripped the handlebars incredibly tight, fearing the vehicle would stir out of control if I didn’t have power over the handlebars.

There it was. The kindergarten. I zoomed towards it, halting to a stop in the parking lot. I rushed inside, panting heavily as Kokichi and Nagisa were staring at me. The small, blue-haired boy ran over, enveloping me in a tight hug. I lovingly hugged back, patting his back in the process.

“Where were you? Parents shouldn’t be late, y’know.”

I gulped and peered up at the kindergarten teacher, mentally scolding myself. I knew I shouldn’t have been late. If it wasn’t for my partner, I would’ve left Nagisa there until I suddenly realized that he wasn’t anywhere nearby.

“Kokichi, don’t blame Dad! He had a really important case today!”

“Alright, just tell me next time.”

I muttered a sorry, and nodded, showing my understanding. The kindergarten teacher walked up to me, swiftly patting Nagisa’s head for a short period of time, then shifted to face me. I gulped, fearing I would get in trouble for not being a ‘good parent’.

“Why’d you call both of us cute.”

“I don’t understand what you’re talking about-“

“Why.”

I looked to the side, shivering a little and sighing. I soon peered back at him.

“Look..”

My ahoge resembled a deflated balloon. It was deformed, bent at every inch.

“It just slipped out, okay…?”

He looked at me, unamused, rolling his eyes and sighing.

“Totally…”

“Well, Nagisa and I have to go…”

“Alrighty! See you Nagisa!”

“What about me-“

“What about you?”

I rolled my eyes as I watched Kokichi ruffle Nagisa’s hair. He looked down at the boy expectantly.

“Nagisa has wanted to ask you something, but he’s clearly too shy…”

He nudged Nagisa knowingly, as the small boy stuttered out words.

“Well…I was wondering if some of my friends could have a sleepover…I’ve never had one, and…”

There was an awkward silence as my mind scanned over what I had planned next week. Nothing.

“Or not! T-That’s fine t-too!”

He looked sad and embarrassed at the same time, fiddling uneasily with his fingers, making eye contact with the ground.

“No, its fine! I was just trying to remember if I had anything scheduled next week…We can have one!”

Nagisa’s eye lit up, sparkles glimmering in his blue orbs. He shined so brightly as he bounced around the room excitedly. Then I realized something.

“Wait-“

“What?”

Kokichi looked up at me, clearly waiting for an answer.

“How am I gonna get Kyoko’s motorbike back to her-“

“You drove a motorcycle.”

“Yes-“

Kokichi jingled the keys on his short fingers, swaying them from side to side. He stared into my eyes, smiling.

“Want a ride then? I could pack the motorbike in the back of my car and drop it of to ‘whatever her name is’.”

“Kirigiri.”

“Right.”

The three of us strolled out of the kindergarten, after Kokichi had tidied up all the mess and checked up on everything, locking the doors behind us as we exited the building. Hopping into the car, we all drove off down the road, me directing the other adult towards the crime scene. Leaving the car, I unpacked the motorbike as Kokichi and Nagisa followed me in. I shifted to look back at the others.

“Uhm, I don’t think Nagisa should see this…”

“Why?”

I leaned into Kokichi’s ear and whispered to him.

“Dead body.”

He bobbed his head to show his agreement, Nagisa looking back and forth at us, confused. He held an arm infront of Nagisa, restricting him from going further, as I entered the building.

||POV CHANGE||

NAGISA POV

I watched as Dad entered the house, a bit worried. Why couldn’t I go in there? I decided to ask Kokichi.

“Why can’t I go in? What’s even in there?”

“Something you don’t want to see.”

I gave him a look of uncertainty, waiting for Dad to come back. I was a little worried, so I decided to start a conversation.

“I think you like Dad, am I right?”

“He seems pretty nice, probably would be a good friend.”

“No, you like Dad in that way. Not friendship, love.”

His eyes widened as he blushed furiously.

“W-Why would you t-think that, N-Nagisa?”

“So, you do like him.”

“N-No! I don’t!”

I rolled my eyes a little. It was so obvious. The whole time Kokichi and I were waiting for Dad, he was talking about him. Literally the whole time. I remember our conversation, word for word.

||Flashback||

“Alright! Time to go everyone!”

Kokichi opened the doors, the young children flooding out of the kindergarten. He sighed as he looked around after all the young kids were safely returned to their parents.

“Nagisa, where’s Shuichi?”

“He told me he was investigating today, apparently it was really serious!”

“Right…”

Kokichi sat on one of the chairs, relaxing his legs and leaning against the table. I did the same, and looked at him.

“Y’know, Shuichi is kinda hot.”

“Wha-“

“His hair is pretty, don’t you think?”

All I could do is agree. Kokichi peered down at his watch. 2:10. He sighed.

“I’m just going to text him-“

“Don’t.”

“Why not?”

“He never answers when he’s at work…”

Kokichi fiddled the phone in his hands, clearly annoyed. Probably wanted to see Shuichi. Who knows?

“I know someone who does answer their phone though.”

He peered at me and handed me his phone. I cheerfully took it and tried to memorize their number. Typing it in, I quickly added the number to Kokichi’s contacts and texted the person. I had seen their number when Shuichi and Kokichi exchanged phone numbers.

‘Hello, do you know Shuichi Saihara by any chance? If so, do you know where he is?’

‘Yes, Shuichi is my work partner at the detective agency. We are currently investigating together. Who is this?’

‘This is Nagisa, his adoptive son. I’m texting him on my kindergarten teacher’s phone. I just wanted to tell him that kindergarten ended 12 minutes ago.’

‘Thank you Nagisa. I will have Shuichi know. He sure is forgetful.’

‘Thank you! Can I please know your name?’

‘Kyoko. Kyoko Kirigiri.’

‘Wait, how do you know my number?’

‘I memorized it when I saw Shuichi and my teacher exchange numbers. Sorry if that’s creepy or anything…’

‘It’s fine. I have to go now. Goodbye Nagisa!’

‘Bye!’

I turned off the phone, the glowing screen fading into pitch black darkness. I peered at Kokichi, telling him that Shuichi should be here soon.

||Present Time||

We were still waiting for Shuichi when I spotted Kyoko and himself exit the huge building. Kyoko stared at me, grinning slightly.

“Are you Nagisa?”

I nodded as she walked up to me, ruffling my hair playfully, then glaring at Shuichi. I could see him gulp and look away.

“And you are…?”

“I’m Kokichi, Nagisa’s teacher.”

“Nice to meet you.”

They shook hands, smiling at each other joyfully.

||POV CHANGE||

KIRIGIRI POV

I’m a little disappointed in Shuichi if I’m being honest.

Leaving your kid who’s in kindergarten with his teacher?

I mean, me and Shuichi have known each other since we were kids and happened to get into the same agency. I know Shuichi. He is forgetful, but not this forgetful. I mentally facepalmed at his previous actions and shook hands with Kokichi.

Nagisa and Kokichi look like they have a close relationship.

I disconnected our hands, watching as Kokichi signalled for Shuichi to enter the car. The two closed the doors behind them, waiting for Nagisa to say goodbye. The younglings hand reached for the door handle, struggling to open the car door. I went to assist him, just to realise it was locked. Shuichi and Kokichi strained to unlock the doors from the inside.

How did this even happen-

“D-Dad!”

Nagisa panicked as he saw the two people he seemed to be the closest to stuck inside the black and white car. I sighed as I saw the trapped kindergarten teacher flirt with the parent. Shuichi literally looked like his parents were a combination of a tomato and strawberry. I watched them as they continued to flirt together. I mentally facepalmed and refocused on the incident infront of me.

I saw Nagisa’s confused face as he walked up to peer through the window, prying into their business. I gently tapped the window, catching their attention.

“Are you two lovebirds done?”

I yelled from the other side of the window. They both were facing me, furiously blushing. In full honesty, they look like they dyed their faces bright pink.

“I’m going to break the window- “

“NAGISA DON’T- “

Too late. Nagisa had grabbed a rock off the ground and pounded it against the window.

“Really- “

“Sorry I was panicking…”

“It’s fine…”

“I guess we’re driving back with a broken window.”

“I guess they call you a detective for a reason!”

Kokichi laughed at his own joke as Shuichi giggled as well. It was so obvious they liked each other, they were so blind and dense. I could tell they liked each other, yet they were uncertain the other loved them back. I sighed and grabbed my purple helmet, putting the blue one Shuichi used in my sleek black bag.

“I’ll be going now.”

I waved goodbye as I hopped onto the motorbike, smiling as my purple streaks of hair flowed relaxingly behind me as I sped down the road. Out of the corner of my eyes. I could see the Kokichi pull Shuichi into a quick kiss through the car’s windscreen, Nagisa just staring in horror. Poor innocent thing.

-BONUS SCENE-

||TIME SKIP||

||W.O.H SLEEPOVER PLANNING||

||3RD PERSON||

“Hey Nagisa…Hey Jataro…I was thinking, I really want to get away from my parents…Do you know anything I could do?”

Kotoko raised a finger to her chin, in deep thought, looking a little depressed. Jataro looked sad as well.

“I just want to get away from everyone…”

Nagisa peered down, sad from seeing his friends loose hope. Monaca wheeled herself over to join our conversation.

“I just want someone to notice me…”

Masaru sat on the ground soon after, despairful.

“I just want to have a peaceful household…”

Nagisa peered down at the ground, wanting to encourage his friends to be joyful. Sure, he had trauma as well, but there is still happiness. He just began to spit out words of reassurance to his small group of friends.

“Jataro, why would you want to disappear from everyone? We are all here. We want you to be here. What’s that point in leaving everyone if everyone needs you here?”

He peered up at Nagisa, who was staring at him, the boy’s wise words causing a smile to form on his face.

“Monaca, we are your friends We notice you. Stop acting like nobody does, because if you haven’t already guessed, you are our friend. We notice you. Why would I be talking to you if I didn’t know you were here?”

She smiled at the blue haired boy, watching as some of the other kindergarten teachers came over. Komaru, Toko and Nagito stood there, watching their students, along with Kokichi who the whole time had secretly been there, unnoticed.

“Masaru! Kotoko! I think I have a solution to your problems!”

Nagisa shouted as the teachers watched, inspired by the boy’s acts of hope. Nagito especially. Toko had to slap a hand over his mouth so they wouldn’t interrupt the kids. Nagisa thought of the time where he was talking to Kirigiri while saying his goodbyes. She had told him these exact words.

“Shuichi has been so happy since he adopted you, y’know. I’ve been thinking about what my future would be like if I had a child. Say, did you know any that need a better home? I do want more than one though…”

“There is a solution I might have, but I need to check. Also, my Dad agreed on the idea to have a sleepover!”

“Sounds great!”

Everyone cheered in unison as they started planning what they would do, also deciding what snacks to bring. Monaca was spinning in her wheelchair in excitement, Masaru pushing her around in circles while Jataro inspired them to continue. Kotoko and Nagisa were drawing each other with crayons, Kokichi sitting on the other side of the table, spreading conversations.

Soon enough, it was time to go home. They all wished each other goodbye, as Kokichi drove Nagisa back to their house. They parked in the driveway, to see Shuichi waiting for them on their front porch.

“Good afternoon you two! How was your day?”

Kokichi ruffled Nagisa’s hair as he explained his day to Shuichi, also asking if he could tell Kirigiri about what I had found out.

“Ah- Sorry, Kyoko wants to see me. I will tell her the news as well Nagisa.”

“Bye!”

The small boy and Kokichi cheered and waved in unison, watching as Shuichi peered back at them, about to leave.

“Bye! I love both of you. And this time, I mean it.”

#Saiouma #Oumasai #g a y #detective more like defective #h i #danganronpa v3 #ultra despair girls #danganronpa #omg thats so gay wth

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