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mammonshuman92 · 3 years

Text

- Watched - Pt.4

(Mammon x GN!MC)

** TW: swearing, kidnapping, religion, abuse, blood, death (if I missed any I do apologize!)

He smiled wickedly as he turned around, going back to the table he’d been at earlier and picked up the same knife he’d held to you when he kidnapped you. The only other weapons you could see on the table were a baton and a taser. There was also a thick book you could only assume was a bible and a large jar of water. The most concerning however, was the gas can, thick work gloves, and what looked a lot like a body bag.

“This may call for a more extensive purification.”

Your heartbeat quickened, breathing becoming slightly erratic. Your eyes widened at the scene laid out before you, but you tried your best to hold your resolve.

Whatever he plans to do, even if this is where your time on this Earth comes to an end, you didn’t plan to give him the satisfaction of conforming to his insane, backwoods ideologies. For your most beloved demons, and the love of your life, you were ready to fight until the bitter end.

After leaving the coffee shop, Mammon made his way back to your house to come up with a plan. As he rushed back, he got a brilliant idea and immediately made a phone call.

Given their status and connections, he was sure that at least a few of his brothers would be able to dig up info on this Alex dude and the ATA, however he couldn’t risk any of them finding out what was going on, for fear it’d get back to Lucifer, so he had to be extremely careful.

“Ugh, what do you want, Mammon? I’m in the middle of a raid right now.”

Levi seemed like the least likely to get too curious and ask questions, especially since Mammon was the one asking. No way would Levi want to end up being part of one of his usual schemes. And since he rarely comes out of his room or socializes with others, Levi was definitely the best one for the job.

“I need a favor.” Mammon could hear the slight clacking sound of Levi’s controller in the background.

“Nope. No way. Your “favors” always end badly; for everyone involved. Goodbye.” He declined immediately, wanting to hang up and get back to his raid.

“Wait, Levi! It’s real important!” The second born begged. Levi could hear the desperation; the emotion in his brothers voice. His interest was piqued now, along with an uneasy feeling in his stomach.

“What is it?” He asked with a sigh, casting his controller aside.

“I need ya to dig into a group called the ATA.”

“ATA?”

“Yeah, it’s the “Anti Treaty Association”, they’re in the human world. And see if ya can find anythin’ on a guy named Alex who might be associated with ‘em.”

“Anti Treaty..? As in the peace treaty? Mammon, what did you-”

“I’ll explain everythin’ later, okay? Just.. please, Levi? I need ya to look into it.” The level of sheer desperation in Mammon’s voice was concerning, but he didn’t push the issue.

“Okay, okay. Hang on..”

The sound of Levi’s fingers rapidly clicking across his keyboard flooded Mammon’s ears for the next few minutes.

“Okay, so the group was founded not long after the Devildom exchange program was formally announced. They started small but grew in number quickly; looks like mostly religious extremists. They hold protests at any event involving relations between our world and the human world. Let’s see..” Levi went quiet for a few seconds as he scanned his monitor.

“It looks like some of the members have a clean record, aside from a couple parking tickets, but there are a few bad apples. Most of the charges consist of harassment, disorderly conduct and destruction of property, all of the incidents taking place at protests. All of them were first time offenders, and have stayed out of trouble since then.”

“Anythin’ about an Alex?”

“Hmm, nope. Do you have a last name maybe? Or literally any other info? I can’t do much with just a first name, especially a common one.”

“Umm, he drives a really old car and he works at a take out place as a delivery driver.” Mammon proceeded to give him the name of the restaurant.

Levi began tapping away on his keyboard again, scanning all the social medias and websites associated with the group and the take out place, looking for anything related to the clues Mammon gave him. Without much to go on, he wasn’t very hopeful and began to lose courage, then he finally got something.

“I got a hit on a few social media accounts related to the ATA. I was able to find some pictures with a crappy older model car in them that were taken at some of their protests a few months back, one of the pictures had a shot of the license plate. After doing a quick search of public record, the car came back as registered to a John A. Smith, who actually died a few years back..”

Mammon sighed, feeling dejected. That information was all he had, and it may not have even been enough to be helpful.

“Wait..” Levi suddenly said, pulling Mammon from his thoughts.

“His obituary says he had one child; a son named John Smith Jr. I can’t find him on social media under that name, but if we assume the middle initial “A” stands for say, Alexander, then I may have something. I found an Alex Smith, and it’s honestly gotta be him. He’s a member of the official ATA group page, and several others like it. His profile picture has a crappy looking car in it, granted it’s mostly cropped out, but it looks a lot like the one I ran the license plate number on. I’m confident that this is your guy.”

Mammon felt like he could breathe a little easier. Another piece of the puzzle had, hopefully, come together.

“Where do I find him?”

“Not sure. His last location was near the middle of nowhere, but it hasn’t pinged anything for quite some time. I’ll send you the coordinates.”

“Thanks, Levi. I owe ya big time.”

“Yeah. Uh, Mammon? I know you said you’d tell me later, but is everything alright? You’ve never asked me to do something like this before. It kinda feels like you’re looking for someone..”

He waited for his brother to stutter out some kind of excuse to explain it away like he always did when he got himself into some kind of trouble, but he didn’t. Which only made more red flags pop up for Levi.

“If anyone asks, especially Lucifer, this never happened and ya haven’t heard from me, okay?”

“Yeah. Okay, Mammon..”

He didn’t like the feeling he had, the gut instinct and the hair that stood up on the back of his neck that told him something was seriously wrong.

After he hung up with his brother, he decided to dig a little deeper. He traced Mammon’s phone and found him at a location nearby the restaurant he’d had him research. His awful, suspicious feeling was confirmed when his brother’s location came back as one in the human world. A little extra digging of public land records and it pinged as your house. His heart sank as he thought about the urgency and desperation in his brother’s voice.

He traced your phone, but it just showed the same location as Mammon. But, if you were there, why would he be so frantic? His stomach churned when he realized that there were only a few things that would cause Mammon such distress, and seeing as how he was apparently in the human world, at your house, desperate to find some random dude, it couldn’t be good. Whatever was going on definitely involved you. That thought alone made him sick to his stomach.

“I hope I’m wrong. Please be okay, MC.”

*bzzz* *bzzz*

Mammon opened the new text message from Levi, which contained the coordinates to Alex’s last known location.

“MC has gotta be somewhere near this location. If not, maybe I’ll be able to pick up their trail.”

He was pacing around the living room, going over possible plans for his next move. Thankfully it would be dark soon and there was also a pretty big storm rolling in, which would provide the perfect cover for him to scout from the skies. Heavy wind and rain would make it nearly impossible to pick up your scent though.

He went into your bedroom to retrieve something of yours that would be heavy with your scent, like your favorite jacket or maybe a pillowcase. As he looked around the room, he spotted a strip of pictures shoved in the frame of the mirror on your dresser. A warm smile spread across his face.

It was of the two of you, not too long after you’d officially started dating. He remembered that particular day very well. You’d decided to walk the cobblestone streets of the Devildom, much like you often did together, but this was different. There wasn’t anymore of that “trying to pretend neither one of you had feelings for the other” junk. It was just..real. You were actually his. He reminisced about how warm your hand felt in his, the way his stomach erupted in butterflies when you looked at him with pure excitement after you’d stumbled upon the photo booth. The way you threw yourself at him, locking your lips onto his for the last picture; the shade of red your cheeks turned when you pulled apart.

That day was one of his favorite memories of you. You were so happy and full of life; looking at him with such excitement and love.

The haunting reality came creeping back in on him, sending his beautiful trip down memory lane, spiraling into despair. There he stood, alone in your bedroom, while you were gone. Taken, by some psychopath. His whole world, snatched right from underneath him as he sat down the hall.

The more he thought about it, the worse he felt. How could he? He should’ve been there. He shouldn’t have let you answer the door. He should’ve done something, anything.

“I knew somethin’ didn’t feel right, and I should’ve listened to what my gut was tryin’ to tell me. This is all my fault..” He ran his finger over the pictures on the mirror, letting a few tears escape before aggressively wiping them away.

“I will find ya, MC. And I promise that I’ll make ya safe again, I swear it.”

He felt a sudden vibration in the floor followed quickly by a deep rumble from outside.

The storm’s comin’. It’s time to move.

He grabbed the shirt you had worn the day before from the hamper and quickly smelled it to make sure your scent was strong enough. From the way it made his heart twist in agony, he was sure it would do just fine.

He shifted into demon form and headed straight for the door. With the approaching storm, it was dark enough now that he could fly and remain unseen. Since he was by himself and up against the unknown, having the element of surprise would come in handy.

“When I find that piece of shit, he’ll understand why I hold the rank of the second strongest of the Avatars.” He growled into the dark of the night as he stepped out onto the front porch.

With that, he shot up into the night sky, stealthy and silent.

“Extensive purification? Is that what the body bag is for?” You asked audaciously.

Naturally, you were scared. This mad man kidnapped you at your own damn house in broad daylight and drug you to what you could only assume was the middle of nowhere to tie you up and torture you. So yeah, you were pretty fucking wigged out to say the least.

But, did that mean you would back down? Let him know you were scared so he had the extra control over you? Make him feel like he was winning?

Absolutely not. You’d never give him the satisfaction. On the inside you were shaking, writhing in terror; begging for Mammon to come and save you. But on the outside? You were taking none of his shit, and playing zero games. If you were going to die here, you planned on going out as uncooperative as you could. Fuck him.

“Hopefully it won’t come to that.” He turned around to face you from where he’d been at his make shift work table, with the taser in his hand. He closed the gap between you, keeping his eyes locked on yours, and leaned down until he was just inches from your face. “The night is still young though.”

“Then why not just kill me now? Get it over with.”

“I want to cleanse you; save your soul.” He said, as if you were crazy for not grasping that concept.

“But why? Why are you so worried about my soul? You prodded.

“Because you have chosen to lay with demons and abandon your humanity.”

“And? Who I choose to love and spend time with isn’t yours, or anyone else’s business.” You snapped back.

“You see, that’s where you’re wrong. Your part in all this; the exchange program, being close with a bunch of high ranking demons; you as a human are committing the highest level of treason by aiding in the progression of uniting the realms. You are opening the door for corruption, chaos and sin to pollute our world.”

You laughed lightly in disbelief.

“When has our world ever been free of any of those things? Do you honestly think the Celestial Realm would be part of the treaty if He wasn’t on board with it? Stop blaming others because you’re close minded. Your blatant hatred for others is your fault, your sin. No one else’s.”

His face turned red and his expression changed into one of anger at the mention of Him. He stormed off toward the work table.

“And by the way, none of this-” You wiggled your fingers around as best as you could in an attempt to gesture around you, “is free of sin. Pretty sure He would frown upon this. Maybe even more so than my relationship with his sons.” You couldn’t help but smirk at your own jab.

He turned back to face you, bible in hand and quickly walked back to where you were hanging, and knelt down into your face again.

“It’s time to begin.” He said with sick, sadistic smile on his face; ignoring what you’d said.

With one quick movement, he lifted you off the giant hook your hand restraints hung from; letting go of you when you were a few feet from the ground, slightly knocking the wind out of you. Although you were being a little mouthy, you still felt pretty weak from being trapped inside that trunk. Not to mention that your shoulders were killing you from being suspended for so long.

He pulled you across the concrete floor by the hand restraint, stopping once he reached the stock tank. He opened up his bible and laid it on a little table near the side of the tank. He picked you up easily and climbed into the water. Even with as hot as it is, the water was frigid. It was only about four feet deep, but being restrained and unable to move freely, you would easily drown if Alex didn’t keep hold of you.

He stood at your side, facing you with his hands firmly grasping your arms right below your shoulders. He started reciting scripture from memory, glancing back at the open bible a few times for reference. He began to repeatedly dunk your head below the surface of the icy water. He recited the same passages over and over again, making it easier for you to figure out when to hold your breath. Although, a few times he seemed to hold you under a little too long, leaving you gasping for air when you returned to the surface.

When the never-ending baptizing finally did come to an end, he plucked from the water and returned you back to where you had been suspended. You were shivering uncontrollably and your head was pounding. No doubt from lack of oxygen after having to hold your breath, then gasp for air more times than you could possibly count. The added weight of your dripping wet clothes added to the searing pain in your shoulders.

He went over to the work table and grabbed the big jar of water you’d seen earlier. He dipped his fingers in it and flicked it at you whole reciting scripture. You assumed that it was holy water.

As you listened to him drone on and on, you found it hard to stay conscious. You haven’t really felt right since getting out of that scorching trunk; you most likely had heat exhaustion.

“Does being saved from eternal damnation bore you?”

“No, just you.” You replied weakly, looking up at him and trying to muster a smirk.

“Is that so?” He challenged.

He abruptly turned around and went back to the work table, returning a moment later sporting the thick work gloves you’d seen earlier, carrying the taser in his hand.

“Then I suppose we need to take it up a notch.”

Mammon went straight to the coordinates Levi sent him, but found nothing except dirt roads and cow pastures. Even from an aerial point of view there wasn’t much to see. After circling the area several times, he landed atop a tree in a densely wooded area. Although it was pretty dark out here in the middle of nowhere, far from civilization, he still couldn’t risk being seen as Alex could be watching; waiting for him to come for you.

“Where are ya, MC?” He quietly asked aloud, eyes continuing to scan the darkness that enveloped his surroundings.

With every passing minute his heart grew heavier, his chest tighter. It felt as if he couldn’t breathe properly. As cliche as it sounded, you were his literal heart; his entire world.

Before you came to the Devildom, he thought he had it all figured out. Stealing and gambling, partying every night, spending money like there was no tomorrow, making shady deals with witches. He was living what he considered the luxurious life of a high roller and he couldn’t get enough of it.

Then you came along, and he was forced to be your guardian or sorts and look after you. It was such a pain. You made it harder for him to give Lucifer the slip so he could go on gambling binges and live up to his title. But, being the weak, magic-less human you were, you needed constant protection.

It didn’t take long before being your protector became something more than what he was ordered to do. He needed to be the one to watch over you, the poor helpless human. His human. As soon as he got a taste of what it felt like to be around you, he couldn’t get enough. He was hooked.

Your smile and the sound of your laughter, the face you make when you’re concentrating or how you pooch your lips out when you’re getting irritated. The never ending kindness you showed him, especially when he was less than friendly at first. Even during those early days, just simply being near you brought him a sense of peace and warmth. The energy you radiated was intoxicating. Before he realized what was happening, he was a lost cause; completely wrapped around your finger.

If someone were to have told him he’d end up completely smitten with a human, he would’ve called them crazy. The Great Mammon would never waste his precious time on something that didn’t involve Grimm and how to obtain and/or spend it, much less a human. Smitten is precisely what he was though, to say the least. Not that it bothered him in the slightest.

He’s been around for thousands of years, and never once has his heart beat the way it does now. He’d always known love because of his siblings, and even the great loss of a loved one when Lilith died. While he would move mountains and do anything for his family, and even lay his life down for them, the way he felt about you was completely different. He would do all those things for you as well, and so much more. You knew him on a different level, a way no one else ever had in all his existence.

Relationships were never really his thing. Sure, he’d had plenty of flings, but most of them only cared about what they could get out of being with the Avatar of Greed, not that it really bothered him. He pretty much only got involved with people when the bitter loneliness became too much to bear. Love isn’t typically something that happens for demons, not that he was looking for it anyway. But, sometimes it was nice to have someone to hold, to feel the warmth of another. Even if he didn’t remember their name. Not that they, or he for that matter, really cared.

Which is why he was so perplexed by the feelings you stirred up inside him. He was one of the strongest rulers of the underworld, who could probably have any succubus he wanted, so why was he becoming increasingly enthralled by you? A completely ordinary human. Or so he thought, anyway. No ordinary human would’ve been able to knock him off his feet the way you had. You were special. You made him feel.

You were kind, warm, headstrong and funny. You’d even put your own life in danger to save those who were much stronger than you, like that time with Beel and Luke in the underground tomb; not because you thought you would win the fight, but because it was the right thing to do. He’d never witnessed such bravery, such selflessness in a human. Especially not when it came to protecting a demon, someone who would be deemed unworthy of such an act simply because of what he was. This once weak, irrelevant human, was now one of the people he respected most. You’re undying love and kindness for others was one of the infinite things that made him fall for you.

He clutched your shirt tightly in his hand, bringing it up to his face and burying his nose into the fabric. He breathed in your scent, filling his lungs as much as he could. He needed to keep the smell fresh in his mind, in hopes of picking up your trail. Tears began to prick his eyes. All the memories of you were nearly too much to handle. He couldn’t lose you. He wouldn’t.

He had no idea what this freak had planned, but he knew it couldn’t be good. The clock was ticking. The more time that passed, the harder it would be to find you. He looked out into the night again, hoping to see anything that might point him in your direction, but there was nothing. The only sounds came from the cows in all the pastures around the area, and a very faint humming noise off in the distance. He couldn’t see any signs of the car or any other clues, but he refused to give up.

“Alright, MC. C’mon, talk to me. Where are ya?” He said, getting ready to take to the skies once more to scan the area. Then it hit him, sending a shiver down his spine. He whipped his head to the right, and breathed in deeply.

MC!!

He took another long breath in, to make sure he wasn’t imagining it. It was definitely your scent. It was very faint, and muddled with something else, iron maybe? But there was no doubt it was yours. Like a shot, he flew in the direction your scent was coming from. The incoming storm was making it hard to stay on the trail, but he was not going to lose it now. He was almost there. Almost to you. There’s no way he was backing down.

A minute or so later he could see the faint glow of a light in the distance. It looked like it was coming from a barn or something. Your scent was getting stronger and stronger as he closed in on the building.

That’s gotta be it!

He landed on top of the building with a thud; coming in a little faster than he intended thanks to the increasing intensity of the storm. He paused a moment, waiting to see if his brilliant entrance had caused any kind of movement. When he didn’t hear anything, he moved to the edge of the roof to have a look around. There was a lot of overgrowth around most of the building, and some spots in the roof seemed to give a little. If he wasn’t careful he might end up crashing through the ceiling. It wasn’t a barn, but more like a warehouse or something.

He walked the perimeter of the roof, looking over the side for any kind of clues. There was nothing out front, and the sides of the building were all overgrown with vines and other greenery. He peaked over the side of the roof near the back of the building and tensed. He could see the car that matched the description of Alex’s, hidden underneath loose foliage in what looked like a poor attempt to conceal it.

I knew it He thought, his heart beginning to race.

He remembered seeing an industrial ventilation fan on the side of the building before he landed, and quietly rushed over to it, crouching down slightly on the maintenance access platform.

By now, the storm was raging full force. The rain was coming down in sheets, the thunder booming as lightning lit up the night sky. The fan was pretty rusted but thanks to the thunder, he was able to crack open the slats slightly without being heard. The sight he was met with made his blood boil, prompting him to let out a guttural animalistic growl that rumbled deep in his chest. The iron smell mixed with your scent he’d smelled earlier, was blood.

Anger like he’d never felt before burned deep inside his very being worse than the raging storm around him, truly making his demon side come out. He never had any intentions of letting this psycho walk away from this, but now it was going to be a lot less humane. The witch’s words came rushing back to him.

‘Bring me the heart of a mammal, not of our world, that thrives on malice and sadism. If you cannot fulfill your end of the deal, I will place a curse on you until the ends of eternity that will make everything of value you come in contact with turn to ash.’

Mammon smiled viciously. Looks like he’d be able to fulfill his end of the bargain with the witch after all.

The “cleansing” quickly shifted from that of something considered somewhat normal, to something very far from it. Nothing about it could be considered holy anymore.

“Are you going to denounce your demonic pacts and sinful ways and conform?”

You lifted your head weakly to glare at him, “Never.” You snarled between staggered breaths. His face twisted in anger.

Blow after blow landed on your weak, fragile body. You spit out yet another mouthful of blood, the wet sounds echoing in the large room as it splattered onto the floor. Needless to say, you were in pretty bad shape.

Blood ran down your face from a laceration on your brow bone. Your lip was busted pretty bad and you had at least a few cuts inside your mouth from your teeth puncturing the skin on your cheeks and lips. You assumed you had some ribs that were at least cracked seeing as it had become pretty painful to breathe. All the spots he tased you in burned like fire, no doubt blistering up badly. He’d held it in the same spot for so long that you could smell your own hair and flesh burning.

There wasn’t much you could do in the way of fighting back, but you sure tried like hell in the beginning. But now you were way too weak, barely even able to scream out in pain. You’d already come to terms with the fact that you probably wouldn’t make it out of here. The reality of never seeing Mammon again swarmed you, tearing away the last bit of resolve you had left. You forced yourself to remember all the time you’d spent with him, making sure he was the only thing you thought of as you began to slowly depart from this world.

You would forever be grateful for the time you had with him and all the amazing memories you were able to make. Movie nights, staying up too late talking and laughing, trying and failing to hide from Lucifer after pranking him.

The way his too big of a hand completely engulfed yours, the way he looked at you when you were both all dressed up for some fancy party at the Demon Lord’s castle and how much he tried to hide his face so you couldn’t see his blush while he held you close on the dance floor.

Sneaking into each other’s beds when one of you had a nightmare, the way his body felt against yours when he cuddled you; his warmth and smell. The way he tried to hide his enormous smile and pink cheeks when you’d gush like a groupie over his newest spread in a magazine.

The time he was a flustered, stuttering mess for three entire days in the beginning of your relationship, unable to hear your name or see you without turning various shades of red because every time he did, flashbacks of loving you for the first time just days before came rushing back to him.

Those intimate moments were your favorite, for more reasons than the obvious. You got to see him in a different light. He was still his usual goofy, lighthearted, prankster self, but he was so much more than that too. He was so sweet it could make your teeth rot. He was gentle, slow. You could feel the love leave him, his heart pouring over into yours. There were always stars in his eyes; pure adoration. Something you could never quite grasp; how someone who had seen the literal heavens could look at a normal human like you in such a way; with such breathtaking awe.

You always felt like you didn’t deserve to be loved by someone as amazing as Mammon, but you would always be eternally thankful. In such a short time he’d brought so much happiness and light to your life. As happy as those memories were, you wished more than anything that you’d get the chance to make more, but sadly it didn’t look that way.

As Alex was coming in to land another blow, a loud thump could be heard from above you; his fist stopped in the air a few feet from your face.

“What was that?” He questioned to himself quietly. He stayed silent for a moment as he listened for more noise, but there was nothing. “Must’ve been thunder.” He shrugged his shoulders and turned his attention back to you, pulling the taser from his pocket.

“It really is a shame that you refuse to comply.” He said as he jabbed it into your ribs, causing you to use what little fire was left in you to cry out in pain. “You really were a fine specimen, until you wasted yourself on demons.” Another jab of the taser, this time on your thigh.

You choked out a weak, raspy laugh. “And I’d do it again, a million times over you sadistic, psychotic freak.” You spat, voice breaking. He reared his hand back to hit you, but was interrupted by another loud noise, this time near the entrance.

He turned toward the sound and decided to check it out this time, picking the knife up from the table on his way. He was only gone for a few minutes, but you were grateful for the break. As much as you didn’t want to give up, your body just couldn’t take much more.

He slithered back through the entrance, soaked from the down pouring rain and complaining about hearing things.

“If you didn’t have a guilty conscience, you wouldn’t be so paranoid.” You said between several pained breaths. Your voice was small and frail, but you still managed to lace some venom in your words. He snarled, storming toward you and sticking the knife under your chin, lifting your head up to look at him. You used what energy you had left to glare at him.

“It’s too bad really, that even in your darkest moments, your last moments, what’s-his-name wasn’t here to save you.” He snickered, tracing the knife from your chin to your jugular, applying just enough pressure along the way to coax out a small line of blood.

“That’d be The Great Mammon to you, human.”

Alex whipped around toward the entrance at the sudden voice, the color draining from his face as a look of sheer terror washed over him.

“M-Mammon?” You choked out, a massive lump forming in your throat. You looked around Alex, the most beautiful yet terrifying thing coming into your field of vision.

It really was him.

Seeing him in demon form was nothing new to you by now. However, the look on his face was something you’d definitely never seen before. It almost looked as if there was an aura around him; a definite shift in atmosphere at his presence. His natural sin was Greed, but right now he embodied Wrath.

It was so easy for you to forget that he really was a demon, as you’d never seen him in such a state before. The sight of him now; raw, malevolent power seeping from him, the low guttural growl, emitting such a heavy, nightmarish presence. He was scary. Even to you.

“MC..” There was pain in his voice; his face distorting in agony when he looked at you.

He charged forward, only making it a few steps before Alex swooped in. He got behind you, reaching around and keeping the knife at your throat; Mammon froze.

“Not another step.” Alex warned. “I have no qualms with spilling the blood of a traitorous demon whore that turned their back on the human race.”

Mammon stared at him blankly for a moment, then burst into laughter. It wasn’t his normal, happy laugh. It was dark, and oozed ill intent. He turned his attention to you once more, his expression softening just enough to not utterly terrify you.

“MC, do you trust me?”

“Since my first day in the Devildom.” You smiled fragilely, noticing the way his mouth briefly tugged up at the corner when your words reached him. He locked his eyes on Alex once again, dark expression returning.

“Close your eyes. No matter what you hear, don’t open them.” He instructed as he slightly crouched, getting into an attack stance; you nodded in agreement, doing as he said.

You could hear Alex huff behind you. “I will slit their throat, or did you hear what I said you filthy, abomina-”

He was silenced mid sentence by a sudden impact that jostled you slightly where you hung. You could hear gasping breaths and Mammon’s same sadistic laughter as earlier, followed by several ear splitting cracks and tearing sounds as Alex screamed out in pain; wet, squelching noises and heavy thuds rang through the room as several things hit the floor. It went on like this for several minutes, until the screams finally ceased.

You pretty well knew just by the sounds, that you were finally free; that psycho would never be able to hurt you again.

Moments later, you were lifted off the large hook and being cradled gently in arms that you knew all too well. Mammon sank to the floor, his wings wrapping around you protectively, shielding you from the gore you didn’t need to see.

“MC..” He whispered, tears running down his cheeks as his eyes scanned over your frail, broken body.

As much as you wanted to savor the moment of finally being safe, once again in the arms of your demon, the reunion would have to wait. You had been through so much and your body couldn’t take any more. You began to fade in and out of consciousness, no longer able to hold on.

“MC..? MC! Stay with me! Please, please hold on just a little longer.” He begged, his voice cracking as he patted his hand against your cheek gently. You tired to put a hand on his cheek to soothe him, but your arm fell limp halfway to his face as you lost the fight to stay awake. You heard him yell your name a few times as you drifted, his voice fading away slowly.

What is that infernal noise?

You had suddenly become hyper aware of an out-of-the-ordinary noise somewhere close by. An alarm clock perhaps? No, it was more of a beeping sound than a shrill ringing.

You lazily opened your eyes, immediately regretting it and squinting them shut because of a blinding white light that was shining in your face. You blinked several times as you tried to adjust.

As you scanned the room slowly, it started to look as if you were in one of the rooms in the Demon Lord’s castle, but it appeared to be set up as a hospital room of sorts. The blinding light was coming from one of the big lights they use at the dentist office. You soon discovered that the beeping noise you’d been hearing was actually one of several monitors you were hooked up to.

Everything started to fall into place and make sense, memories coming back of the events that brought you here. The monitor closest to you started to sound an alarm, indicating your heart rate had picked up and your blood pressure was rising. Seconds later the door flew open, a figure rushing into the room.

“MC.” He said, breathing a sigh of relief.

Barbatos moved to your bedside and silenced the alarms, opting to check your vitals himself.

“How do you feel?” He asked, pressing his index and middle fingers to the underside of your wrist, checking your heart rate.

“Fine, I guess?”

“You guess?” He repeated, taking a small light from his pocket and shining it in your eyes, checking the dilation of your pupils.

If you remembered correctly, which you’re very sure you did, your injuries were extensive. There’s no way you could forget that level of pain. You felt tired, kind of groggy from sleep, but there was no pain.

“How long have I been asleep?”

“About three days.”

Three days?! You thought to yourself, a little shocked.

That’s still not nearly enough time for your wounds to heal. You must have looked as confused as you felt, prompting and explanation from Barbatos.

“Your injuries were rather extensive, so Mammon brought you here after rescuing you. Lord Diavolo had the best doctors in the Devildom tend to you with magic. Although they healed you perfectly, you weren’t showing any signs of waking up just yet, so we decided to keep you here to monitor your condition.” You nodded along in understanding as he spoke.

He placed the light back in his pocket and moved away from the bed. “I shall notify Lord Diavolo and the others that you have awakened. Please excuse me.” He said as he bowed, then left the room.

You sat up in the bed and criss crossed your legs, careful not pull out your IV or tangle any of the wires to the other monitors. You let out a long, heavy sigh. Before you could be consumed by your thoughts of all the memories of the last few days, the door to your room flung open once more. This time, it was the one person you wanted to see most.

“MC!” He shouted, voice cracking with emotion. Mammon crossed the room in an instant and sat in front of you on the bed.

“Are you okay? Do ya feel any pain?” He asked frantically, his eyes scanning your face then darting to the monitors, hands hovering over you as if he wanted to help but was unsure how. You grabbed his hand, intertwining your fingers in his. It seemed to calm him a little.

“I’m okay.” You assured him. Although you’d been put through the wringer, you felt so at peace. Not only were you in the safest place in the entire Devildom, but the one thing that threatened your peace of mind, was now no longer a problem.

“I-I uh, I was scared.. that I was too late. That ya weren’t gonna wake up, that I’d...that I’d lost ya..” He confessed, voice catching in his throat as tears fell from his eyes. He carefully scooped you up and held you in his lap, holding you as close as he was able to with all the wires and such. You sat up a little and snaked your arms around his neck, pressing your lips firmly to his.

While you were held captive, you had been so sure that you’d never get a moment like this with Mammon ever again. You were happy beyond words to be back in his embrace once again with his lips on yours. Smelling his wonderful scent, and feeling his warmth on your skin.

After a few minutes of your lips moving in synchronization, he broke the kiss, and pulled back to look you in the eye. A serious expression washing over his face. “MC, I’m sorry I didn’t-”

You held up your hand to stop him, “No, Mammon. You’re not going to blame yourself. I won’t let you. Everything that happened was his fault, not yours or anyone else’s. He was sick in the head, with a twisted ideology.”

He nodded, “I know, I know. It’s just..” He shook his head as he tried to choke back more tears that threatened to spill. You knew exactly what was running through his mind.

“Mammon, there is no one else in the three realms I’d rather trust with my protection, than you. As a matter of fact, there’s no else that can even compare to you in my eyes. As I already said, none of this, none of it, is your fault and I’ve never once thought it was. I love you, Mammon and there’s no one else I’d rather entrust my life with, or spend it with for that matter.” You placed your hand on his cheek and smiled at him, tears now streaking your cheeks. He leaned into your touch, his hand resting lightly on top of yours for a moment before pulling your hand away and placing several light kisses on your palm.

Barbatos returned soon after, with a doctor in tow. Once they unhooked you from all the monitors and removed your IV, Mammon took you back to the House of Lamentation where everyone was awaiting your return.

It felt so good to be back. The HOL was technically your second home, but nowhere has ever felt more like home than here in the Devildom, surrounded by all your favorite people. And thanks to Lord Diavolo extending your stay until further notice, you were on cloud nine.

Although all your physical wounds were gone, the mental ones were sure to stick around for awhile. You expected as much though, having gone though quite a traumatic experience. Although, it made it a little easier knowing that Alex would never again be an issue.

It was clear that his soul wouldn’t be fit for the Celestial Realm, and you had fears of him being reincarnated in the Devildom and finding you once again. But, Mammon quickly laid those fears to rest, informing you of what he’d done that night after getting you safely to the Demon Lord’s castle.

He said he preformed some kind of ritual that ensured Alex wouldn’t be reincarnated anywhere; his soul having been wiped from the worlds. As if he’d never existed. He also mentioned something about Alex helping him to fulfill his end of a bargain with a witch. He didn’t really go into detail about the whole thing, but assured you that everything would be fine, so you didn’t push the issue. He’s a high ranking demon, after all. This surely isn’t his first rodeo. You were just ready to start the healing process and put an end to this awful chapter in life.

And with Mammon by your side; loving you, protecting you, helping you heal; you couldn’t think of a better way to begin such a beautiful new chapter.

~ fin ~

#obey me #obey me shall we date #mammon x mc #gn!mc #obey me angst #trigger warning #potentially triggering #gender neutral mc #angst #finale #mammon #obey me mammon

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mrs-gucci · 3 years

Text

Finding Paradise {Clyde Logan x detective!Reader}

Clyde Logan + No AU/Canon + Mystery & Romance + Hurt/Comfort

~summary~ You’re a regular big-city police detective looking for a nice, relaxing vacation away from the hustle and bustle. Clyde Logan is a lonely, small-town man looking for a chance at romance away from the tight-knit West Virginian culture. After a strange dream and a mysterious murder at the resort bring the two of you together one fateful night, you offer to provide him comfort in any way you can.

hello, hello! this week’s writer wednesday picture prompt actually fits in really well with this 500 celebration work, so this is my (belated) writer wednesday submission! plus, I figured I’d go ahead and write it up for y’all because the first celebration is waaaay overdue...😳 (in order to get all the 500 celebration pieces out in a somewhat timely fashion, I had to shorten several of my original ideas, and this piece was included in that. sorry y’all, but I hope you still like this one, even with the plot modifications!)

as always, thanks to @autumnleaves1991-blog and @clydesducktape for putting this wonderful event together :)

warnings: mystery. romance. hurt/comfort. fluff. clyde’s a sweetie. light smut. making out. some touching. handjob.

tw’s: murder. graphic depictions/descriptions of blood, gore, and violence.

word count: 3.4k

It’s late when you retire for the night, heading back to your room after a fun-filled night of dancing and drinks. You’re walking on sunshine as the elevator doors slide open, dinging as they do so.

The car comes to a stop on the ninth floor and you step out into the hallway, gasping at the gruesome sight that greets you. Your plastic room key clatters on the hallway carpet as your eyes follow the trails of blood and smudged bloody handprints.

You’re practically frozen in place as you slowly bend down to grab your room key, then hesitantly make your way down the hall. As a big-city detective, you’re never without a weapon, not even on vacation and especially not when you’re at a singles resort.

So, you’ve got your trusty can of mace and your pocket taser at the ready as you slide along the opposite wall, keeping a sharp eye out for anyone possibly still at the scene. You make sure to stay alert and use your years of training, peeking around corners with your weapons ready to fire in case of any dangerous persons lurking on the other side.

Soon, you reach the apparent scene of the crime and, much to your surprise, it’s the room right next to yours. Guess it’s a good thing you decided to head out for the night.

Even though the lights are out in the room, the door is ajar and you immediately see the apparent victims’ outstretched arm protruding out into the hallway. As you walk up a bit closer, you start to see the top of a head and your stomach churns.

It’s clear that this poor fellow had quite the night and endured a lot of violence before he was finally, mercifully taken by death. You’re careful to avoid touching anything or contaminating any evidence as you walk through the doorway of the room, pausing when you hear snores.

Is it possible that someone actually slept through such a horrific event?

With the end of your mace can, you flip the lights on in the room, seeing a large form sprawled out under the covers, peacefully and soundly sleeping. A fancy-looking prosthetic lower arm is laid on the nightstand next to him, along with an old-school phone and a beat-up leather wallet with some bills poking out at the top.

Suddenly, he starts to fuss, tossing and turning and twitching. Your breath hitches.

~ “Please! Please, you don’t have to do this!” His desperate pleads are muffled slightly by the walls, but they’re quickly stifled by a gloved hand over his mouth. “Ppplhhmmm, hmmmffff mmmmmm!”

“What are we gonna do with him?” This voice is different, much calmer and yet, there’s still a tinge of panic buried within it. He sounds young, no older than college-age, Clyde’s dream mind thinks.

Another deeper and much more mature-sounding voice responds. “I’ve got the master key. Just pick a room.”

His glove-stifled yells grow louder and much more urgent, now, and there are suddenly some slight grunts of effort. A loud thunk, then a clunk come through the wall and the muffled voice goes silent.

The lock beeps when the key is inserted, then the door pushes open. Another loud thunk comes and by now, Clyde’s dream consciousness is aware of what’s going on. He gets out of bed, confused by the rays of lights coming in through the door.

“No!” ~

“No!” He suddenly shouts, then shoots up from bed and instantly squints at the room light as he looks around.

You jump in your skin, startled by his loud outburst, instinctively raising your weapons at him.

“Put your hands up where I can see them!”

His eyebrows furrow, chest heaving as he quickly raises an arm up in the air. “What in the name of--”

“I said put your hands up in the air! I’ll fucking tase you!”

“‘m d-disabled! I don’t got ma full arm on the left side! Los’ it i-in Iraq, I can’t lift it! Please!”

Shit, the arm on the nightstand. You’d forgotten about that. “Right, uh, sorry. Now, I need you to slowly push the covers back and get out of bed. Stand right next to the mattress.”

The man nods, then slowly pushes the covers back, revealing his clothed form. You’d expected to see bloodstains, any trace of the murders, but all you see are clean, threadbare sleep clothes. He stands, keeping his good hand up in the air as you walk further into the room.

“Is there anyone else in this room with you?” You ask, lowering your taser just a little bit to get a good look at his face.

He shakes his head quickly. “N-Not that I know of, miss. No one ‘cept the poor dead fella proppin’ ma door open.”

If you weren’t so far in your detective headspace, you would’ve laughed. And you almost did laugh at his humorous statement. You check in the closet and in the bathroom, careful not to touch anything.

Once the room is clear, you lower your taser completely, letting your shoulders relax a little bit.

“You can put your arms--arm down now, sir. Sorry about the, um, the aggressiveness just then, it’s just safety procedure for law enforcement.” He does, and you tuck the taser back in your little purse. “I’m going to call 911 and let them know the situation here. Before I do, though, can you tell me exactly what happened here?”

“Yer not a cop?” His eyebrows furrow.

You shake your head. “Not here, no, sir. I’m a police detective in my home city and I came across the scene as I tried to go back to my room, which is incidentally next door to this one.”

He’s trembling by now, adrenaline instinctively pumping through as he nods. “Well, m-miss, I honest t’ god have no clue what happened ‘ere. I came up t’ bed here ‘round ten an’ I had this w-weird dream an’ then when I woke u-up, there was a dead body an’ a p-pretty lady in ma room.”

Your cheeks heat up at the last part of his statement, but you catch yourself before you start getting too caught up in it. Instead, you simply nod and approach him.

“Let’s sit down for a minute, you’re shaking pretty bad.”

Clyde takes a seat on the bed, taking shaky breaths. You gently put your hand on his shoulder as you sit next to him, sliding your hand over to begin rubbing soothing circles on his back.

“I know this must be really overwhelming and traumatic, but I want you to know that I’m here for you and it’s okay to be emotional right now. Don’t be afraid of that, it’s so much easier if you just let it out now.”

He nods wordlessly, taking a deep, shaky breath. “This m-may sound a lil s-strange, but can I hug ya?”

“Sure, absolutely you may.” You say with a small laugh, opening your arms. “It looks like you’re in need of a good hug right now.”

His strong arm wraps around you and he pulls you tight against him. It’s in that moment that you truly realize how large he is, and you suddenly feel incredibly small in his arms. Small but safe, small but incredibly secure.

With his embrace, you feel as if no harm will befall you while he’s holding you. You’ve never felt this way when hugging or being held by anyone before, and god, you’re soaking in every second of this feeling.

You find yourself letting your guard down a little bit, melting into this embrace and allowing your eyes to flutter shut. Your tensed shoulders fall just a little bit and at the same time, a small sigh passes through your lips.

This embrace seems to have a similar effect on Clyde, too, allowing himself to take steady breaths. His trembling steadies as he holds you in his embrace, keeping you tight against him like you’re the last thing he’ll ever hold on this godforsaken planet.

“The police are going to want to hear your side of things because unfortunately, you’re going to be their number one suspect right now. But, I will certainly do my best as a law enforcement professional to persuade them of your obvious innocence, but I don’t have jurisdiction here so I can’t make any promises.” You say, gently drawing back before dialing 9-1-1 on your phone, trying to ignore the heat in your cheeks. “Make sure not to touch anything before they get here, including your prosthetic. They’re gonna want to run some tests just to make sure there’s no fingerprints or blood evidence on it. I’ll be right back, and if you need anything at all, please let me know.”

As you turn around, the man calls out to you and jogs up behind you.

“May I ask yer name, miss? Ya’ve been real helpful t’ me and I’d like t’ learn yer name.” He says, blushing as he extends his good hand. “‘m Clyde, ‘s real nice to meet ya.”

“It’s nice to meet you too, Clyde. I’m Y/N, and I’m always happy to help.” You smile up at him, shaking his hand.

His cheeks turn a deep shade of pink as he looks down, shifting weight between his feet. “Um, I was wonderin’ if, a-after the police interview me n’ such, i-if ya’d wanna maybe...go on a walk with me? Just t’ get away from the scene an’ decompress a little bit...I completely understand if ya don’t want t’--”

“I’d love that.” You say quickly, perhaps a little too quickly. Your cheeks warm further and you bite your lip, giggling softly. “I mean, yeah, t-that sounds nice.”

He can barely hide his enthusiasm, a big ol’ grin spreading across his face. “Alright, then. How ‘bout we meet on the boardwalk at...one? That leaves plenty ‘a time fer interviews and all that.”

“Sounds good. I’ll see you then, Clyde.”

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

One o’clock can’t come fast enough and you find yourself pacing the little boardwalk outside the hotel, waiting for Clyde to come down. The thoughts swirl inside your mind about the murder, sure, but mainly about how you feel about Clyde.

In your time apart, you’ve come to realize that you’ve begun to feel for him. The memory of being in his arms, well, arm, plays on repeat in your mind. You’ve never, ever felt that way before and damnit, you want more.

A set of footsteps on the planks pulls you from your thoughts and you smile up at the handsome country man as he approaches you. He smiles in return, looking down at his feet shyly when he stops in front of you.

“Shall we?” You say, gesturing to the beach.

He nods, chuckling softly. “Yes, ma’am.”

The two of you start walking towards the crashing waves on the shoreline. Moonlight bounces off the water’s reflective surface as you two walk along the sand, looking out onto the horizon.

It’s so peaceful, the rhythmic motions of the water and the gentle breeze wafting across your skin...the only thing that could make this better is if Clyde and you shared a magic, fairy tale-esque kiss under the moonlight.

Yeah, right. Like that’ll ever happen.

Soon, you two come across a large lifeguard’s chair, large enough to fit the both of you side-by-side. You look up at him with a small smile when you reach the chair.

“Wanna climb up and sit with me?”

His eyes widen for a second, almost as if he’s surprised that you asked him to sit with you. Then, he nods, a small smile breaking out on his face. “Yeah, sure.”

You start climbing up onto the chair, then signal for him to come up with you. He begins to climb up, struggling a bit with only one arm and slipping a bit, but he eventually makes it up.

Clyde takes a seat next to you, blushing when your thighs are pressed flush up against each other. For the first minute or so, you are silent, simply allowing the natural soundscape of nature to fill the space between you two.

“‘s so pretty here.” He says after a moment. “This ‘s ma first time at the beach. I wasn’t too sure I’d like it all that much, but turns out, I do.”

“Is it really your first time at the beach? In your whole entire life?” You ask, looking over at him, eyes wide.

Clyde laughs softly at your surprised expression, nodding. “Yeah, us deep West Virginian country folk don’t get much time at the beach. We used t’ go to the lake when we were kids, n’ I’ve been t’ the swamps down in Florida. But that’s ‘bout it.”

The two of you laugh together before silence stretches between the two of you again. Except this time, the two of you don’t look away from one another. You look deep into each other’s eyes, drinking in each other up-close for the first time since you met only a few hours ago.

God he’s handsome; a tall, broad man with natural, raw good looks. A real mans man, a real country boy. You don’t see many of those in the city, and shit, it’s incredibly intoxicating.

His eyes are like brown honey, kind and warm and inviting while at the same time being undeniably endearing. You swear in this moment you could stare into his eyes for an eternity, the little complexities drawing you in and keeping your full attention.

Before you know it, your lips are almost touching, naturally having leaned in as your eyes roamed his handsomely freckled face. He's apparently been leaning in too, looking at you with a similar intensity in his gaze.

Your breaths mingle together, salty sea breeze coming between whenever it blows. His eyes dart down to your lips, then back up to meet your gaze. Yours do the same.

“Tell me to stop.” You whisper, lips so close to his that you can almost feel them.

He shakes his head, massive hand coming up to cradle the back of your skull. “Please...don’t stop.”

You’re leaning in, then, closing the gap between your lips. His fingers tighten around your head, pulling you closer as he begins to kiss you like no other before.

His lips quickly begin to move against yours, head tilting to the side to deepen the kiss. You eagerly return his enthusiasm, reaching up to wrap a hand in his thick wavy mane.

When you give it a little tug, he groans into your mouth and his grip tightens around the back of your head, pulling you closer. Soon, you’re climbing up onto his lap, straddling his thick thighs without missing a beat.

Clyde draws away, blushing madly and when you shift your position on his lap, you realize why. He’s already half-hard, and even at half-mast, you can feel how big he is below the bet. The feeling has you shuddering with arousal, insides beginning to heat up in response.

“Darlin’, ‘m real s-sorry, ‘s been a long while sssince I’ve done somethin’ like this a-and yer just so pretty...” He chews his lip, looking at you with just the most innocent expression. “I don’t want ya t’ feel pressured t’ do anythin’, c-cause ya don’t hav’ta do anythin’ if ya don’t wanna. I jus’ want ya t’ know that, a-and I completely understand if ya just wanna stop and we can keep walkin’ o-or we can go back t’ the--”

You cut him off with another kiss, giggling against his lips as you do so. After a second or two, you draw back with a smile.

“You’re sweet. But Clyde...” Your eyes look into his as your hand slides down his firm abdomen to rest right at his waistband. “I’d like to, if you’d like me to.”

He’s nodding almost immediately, hand coming to rest on your hip. “I-I’d, uh, I’d really like that.”

You smile, gently resting your palm atop the lengthy bulge under his shorts, earning you a soft gasp from his lips as well as a little jump from his hips. His head falls back when you pop the button on his camouflage shorts and tug the zipper down to allow his length some breathing room.

“Mmmmm, darlin’.” He breathes as you fish his length out from beneath the somewhat tatty fabric, bringing it out into the breezy night.

You’re beyond impressed (and aroused) by the sheer size and mass of his arousal. He’s by far the biggest and thickest you’ve ever seen in your years of sexual activity, and you can’t help your gawking.

It seems as if he doesn’t understand just how impressive a specimen he is, in fact, it would seem that he’s embarrassed by his body. His cheeks are bright red and burning, looking off to the side.

“Y’ don’t havta, i-if it’s not really what ya we’re e-expectin’...”

Your eyebrows furrow on your forehead, finger lifting and turning his head so that your eyes meet once more. You offer him a kind smile, thumb swiping across his cheek.

“I’m sorry for staring, it’s just that I’ve never seen anyone so...big before. But your size doesn’t deter me from wanting to pleasure you; in fact, I’d say that it almost encourages me. You’re so, so handsome Clyde, please don’t ever let anyone make you think anything different.”

His eyes widen, then a small, shy smile pulls at his lips. His cheeks are a deep red color, now, as he reaches forward for a gentle kiss. “T-Thank ya.”

With a small nod and a smile, you wrap your hand around the thick base of his pulsing shaft, watching as his face contorts in pleasure. Your hand begins to slowly stroke him, moving up and down at a steady rhythm.

In the back of your mind, you wonder how long it’s truly been for him since he’s been touched this way by someone else. He’s quite sensitive, hips rutting up with each flick of your wrist.

He’s already getting close after only a few minutes of your ministrations, breathy pants and soft whimpers pouring from between his plush lips. He looks so beautiful like this, falling apart under the gentle glow of the moonlight, dark waves blowing in the gentle sea breeze.

Is there a better sight than this? Certainly not in your eyes.

“Ohhhhh ma g-god, darlin’!” Clyde gasps, now bucking up into your grip. “‘m ssso close, gonna c-cum...!”

Your strokes suddenly speed up, which almost instantly pushes him off and over the edge, thick creamy ropes landing all over your hand and a bit on his shorts.

“Fffffuuuuuck!”

His chest heaves as he rides out his orgasm, hips slowing then coming to a stop. He holds your hip firmly, as if to keep himself grounded in reality while he comes down from an intense climax.

Once the cloud of lust has cleared from his mind, he reaches up and pulls you in for a kiss.

“God, that was...yer...yer just incredible. Thank y-ya.” He whispers against your lips. Then, he begins to blush once again. “Do ya, um, do ya want me to r-return the favor?”

You smile, shaking your head. “No, no, I’m alright. Bringing you pleasure and helping you relax after your stressful night is more than enough for me.”

“M’kay.” Clyde nods and smiles, kissing you again. “’nother time, then.”

Your eyes widen and your cheeks warm, biting your lip. “Another time? As in, you’d like this to happen again?”

The realization of what he said hits in that moment and the blush on his cheeks grows a deeper shade of pink. He looks away, chewing at his lips. “W-Well, er...I’d like t’ see ya ‘gain sometime.”

You grin down at him, running your fingers through his slightly dampened locks.

“Yeah, I’d really like to see you again, Clyde.”

“That makes me happier than you’ll ever understan’, darlin’.” His smile grows even wider, then, as he redresses himself.

The two of you simply look into each other’s eyes again for another few moments before he clears his throat, coarse hands running over your bodily curves.

“Shall we?” He teases, quoting your earlier icebreaker.

You laugh and stand up, extending your hand to him.

“We shall.”

tagging: @maybe-your-left @einmal-im-traum @safarigirlsp @babbushka @icarusinthesea @dorothyrichardsonren @mrs-zimmerman @strangunddurm @beachwoodmonet @angel-bxby3 @eagerforhoney @crypticplaguerats @kylo-ren-is-alive

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veilder · 3 years

Note

"Don't worry, I'll take care of you" - North60

Another prompt fill that I actually managed to get done? What?! Well, you're as surprised as I am. XD Anyway, I have no idea if this is even good or not but I guess I'll post it anyway. This is set vaguely as the third piece in the North60 series I intend to write. (The first part of it is published already but I've been working on the second for a long time and it's still not done. >_<) So if anyone is a bit OOC, just blame it on some intended character growth that's already theoretically happened, lol. So yeah... here's to the very few of you out there who love this ship as much as I do. Enjoy? 😅

butterflies around the flame

"Don't worry, I'll take care of it."

Sixty pauses, looking over to North as she sidles up beside him on the gangway. She wears her expression of steely determination just as fittingly as her slightly-singed tactical suit and Sixty can’t help the small burst of assurance both sights inspire in him despite his current irascibility. His scanners pick up a myriad of weapons on her person, knives and guns and batons and tasers, and it soothes some basic part of his coding that crows at him to keep her safe. She can look out for herself. Hell, she can look out for him too if the way she's muttered that phrase several times over the course of their friendship is anything to go by. Time and again she's looked out for him, vouching for him to her friends, taking him on as her second-in-command in the security corps, mediating disputes he manages to get himself involved in, etc.

And here and now too, apparently, she's decided to shoulder the responsibility for his actions. Even as he stares, she nods her head down to the burnt edges of his jacket and trousers, waving a lazy hand to the entirety of his ash-encompassed form. "I’m serious, I’ll talk to them. You did what you had to and I'll make sure Markus knows it. Losing one building is better than what would've happened without the distraction."

Sixty frowns, doing his best to nonchalantly lean against the metal railing as he peers down at the gathered deviants below. The deviants he had done his best to save during the pandemonium. The deviants who stood huddled and scared and singed because of his stupid plan. They were lucky... Lucky to make it out. No thanks to him.

"I could've taken the humans down myself," he says eventually, a scowl crawling its way across his face. "Far less collateral damage. Quick and efficient. You know I could've, North." He snaps his gaze back towards her. "This could've killed them." He nods his head towards the crowd below. "I could've killed them. And for what? A crazed mob of humans hellbent on destroying us?"

North shakes her head. "But you didn't kill them. You didn't kill anybody, Sixty. We have you to thank for everyone making it out alive. Even the humans." Her words are soft but her eyes shine brightly, that same righteous anger burning through them as courses through his Thirum lines. She's just as upset about the attack as he is. He knows this. After all, she'd been on guard when it all went down, too. She'd heard his transmissions, understood what he was planning. She'd led the evacuation of New Jericho personally and perfectly in sync with him springing his trap. And now, huddled in an abandoned warehouse near the wreckage of the original Jericho freighter, the harried android population coming full-circle in the worst of ways, they are the only two who can explain the full situation to Markus.

Somehow, just knowing how incandescently angry North is about all of this is enough to stabilize his systems a bit, his dangerously high stress levels sinking back down to a more moderate rate. "Well, can't have His Leaderness getting all up in arms with me for snuffing out a few organics, now can we? Not after last time."

North snorts, the sound inelegant and coarse, and Sixty feels his stress levels sinking even more. But when she looks up at him, she is far from amused, her eyes burning with resolve as a wicked, cruel smile teases the edges of her lips. "Your restraint is admirable, Six. Can't say I wouldn't have taken the shot if I were in your place."

Here in the dim light, her uniform practically fades into the darkness. Her vibrant hair is tied back and hidden, her hands are gloved, her face is cast in shadows. Every part of North is dimmed and defeated, even her muttered words wreathed in fury and despair.

But even with her glaring down at the assembly like an avenging angel, her palpable fury emanating from her like a physical thing, Sixty can't help but scoff. "You wouldn't." He smirks as her eyes snap back to his, the challenge in her gaze masking the vulnerability underneath. "You wouldn't take the shot," he says again. "You wanna know how I know?"

Hesitantly, she nods, enough suspicion in her gaze to make him cackle. (Which he does. Loudly.)

Sixty reaches out and takes her hand, giving her his own crooked, slightly deranged smile in return. "It's because I didn’t. And that’s because of you." He squeezes her hand, the pulse of her Thirium lines under the sensitive sensors of his fingertips as mesmerizing as it is reassuring. "You've always been better than you seem to think you are. You wouldn't take a life if there was another option. That's never been you, even at your lowest." He chuckles softly. "You always protect. Even when you hate someone or something, you always try to find the best option. You 'take care of things'. That's how I came to be here in the first place, isn't it?"

North's grip is firm in his own as he flashes her another grin and Sixty can feel it, the way she retracts her skin even with the barrier of cloth between them. Without thought, without care, he reciprocates, letting his own Thirium coating recede back into the magnetized nodes dotting his chassis. The two of them sink into the interface, the low hum of each other's minds a sweet and soothing backdrop to the chaos all around them. The interface is only surface level, not deep enough to be anything other than an awareness of each other, but it is enough to magnify North's words through his whole self as she speaks: "But I never hated you. Not like them."

Sixty merely laughs. "But you should've."

And there is no contestation. She knows as well as he the sins of his past. But she's never judged him for them, not once. It's perhaps what he loves most about her, her willingness to accept his flaws. Even here and now, with the ashes of their people's dreams upon his body, she never once hesitated to accept him. It's enough to incite a 0.33 second timing fluctuation in the steady beat of his Thirium pump. The error message that accompanies it is a familiar friend in her presence these days.

In the warmth of their interface, Sixty continues on: "But you know as well as I do that you don't need to like someone to do the right thing." He spares a brief moment to think of his hallowed predecessor and the complicated relationship between them.

North nods. "Yeah, I... I know, Six. I know." She glances up at him through her eyelashes. "When the hell did you end up the voice of reason?"

Sixty snorts out a laugh. "I have my moments."

Her smile is genuine this time as she stares up at him. "You sure do."

And though his records will later tell him that this moment lasted less than a second, Sixty swears they stare at each other for an eternity. Time slows as if his preconstruction software has started up, each prolonged moment a gift for his harried system. And when at last they draw apart, breaking the shallow interface at last, they both do so with a smile and severely diminished stress level.

"Alright, I still need to explain things to Markus and Josh and Simon," North reiterates. "I'm sure they're here somewhere."

Sixty nods. "Yeah, they're over in that corner," he says, pointing.

North's scandalized face is enough to have him laughing again. "Sixty! You knew they were here all along?!"

"Of course," he laughs, "I've got the best scanners on the market. They've been here the whole time. They've been delegating or something, I'm not sure."

"Why didn't you say something!"

"Well quite frankly, I needed a moment. And then you needed a moment. And then we were having a moment, so..."

"Ugh, I can't believe you! I need to go. Now."

But before she can walk off, Sixty sidles in front of her. "Whoa whoa whoa, I think you mean we need to go. Right?"

She stares at him, uncomprehending.

"Okay, lemme put it to you this way then," he chuckles. "We will go explain my actions to the Big Boss. Then we can check on the security team and see if they're still doing alright. And then we can go find a quiet spot where we can try and beat the shit out of each other for a bit. Y'know. Let off some steam. Relax." He gives her a wink and revels in how her lips twitch at the sight.

"...You wouldn't insist if you hadn't already made up your mind, huh?" She doesn't even wait for him to confirm it before continuing, "Well, alright. Because that... That sounds good, Six.” North says. And then quieter, as if she was speaking only to herself, she mutters, “What would I ever do without you?"

Her whispered question rings sincere through Sixty's audio processor. He saves the soundbyte for further review and answers, "You'd take care of things. You always do."

And she smiles, so soft and sweet that another Thirium pump error flashes across Sixty's HUD. "Yeah. I always do. But it’d be less fun without you here."

Sixty reaches out a hand again and thrills when she accepts it, the two of them walking together along the gangway down to where the rest of the Jericho leadership are stationed. He chuckles. “I knew you kept me around for something.” This time, it’s him who initiates, opening up another interface for them to connect with. North reciprocates immediately and it makes Sixty proud to feel how much calmer she is now. “But I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that. I pity the poor idiot who tries to make me leave now. You’d tear them apart.”

North’s eyes flash, a sinister gleam accompanied by another cruel grin. “I’d 'take care of them'.”

Sixty barks out a hearty laugh, so enamored, so proud. “And I'll take care of you."

She chuckles right back and squeezes his hand, a steady warmth pulsing through their connection. "And maybe I'd even let you." And with eyes facing forward with renewed determination, she pulls him along with her towards their goal. “Now come on, Security Officer. There’s work to be done.”

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

Bonus:

Markus: "So... You're saying that you're the one who blew up New Jericho?" Sixty: "Yep!" 😃 Markus: [turning to North] "And you're saying you... encouraged him to do this?" North: "Sure did!" 😀 Markus: [staring into the camera like it's The Office] "If ever there were a time for someone to invent alcoholic Thirum, it's now." Sixty & North: 😀😀😀

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leossmoonn · 4 years

Text

Training Session [Peter Parker]

masterlist

pairing - peter parker x fem!stark’s daughter!reader

type - fluff

note - hope you enjoy! also idk ANYTHING about martial arts or combat fighting so lol dont take i wrote too seriously

summary - peter finds out mr. stark has a daughter and you two are put together for a training session.

warnings - lil suggestive

————

*gif isnt mine*

“How do you like it?” Sam asked.

You turned to the mirror, eyes wide and mouth agape, admiring your new suit.

“This is awesome!” You squealed.

Sam, Tony, and Nat had deisgned a new suit for you. After your last battle, your suit had been torn to shreds. It had been months since you were able to go out in the field and you’d be anxious to fight crime. Now that you had your new suit, you were now able to fight crime.

You were named Fox. You were sly, witty, and and charming. Not just in your moves, but your personality, too. You had been working alongside your dad, Iron Man, for 7 years. You were 10 when you started, obviously too young to actually be fighting, but you were his right hand woman at all times. You helped him with his suit, team, and plans on how to deal with missions.

Your suit was a dark orange body suit, much like Nat’s. You had fingerless gloves, black combat boots, and an orange mask that went around your eyes. You had a black stripe down your suit’s back, much like a fox’s. You also had a utility belt with a grapling hook, taser, and pepper spray — you could never be too careful in the city. You and Tony tried hard to keep your identity safe, especially since you were still in high school.

“Do you think we need to add anything?” Tony asked.

“Can I get rockets on the bottoms on my shoes like you?” You asked.

Tony chuckled, “We’d have to change the whole material of your suit, cupcake. You don’t like metal, remember?”

You grumbled, “Yeah, yeah. Well, I love it! Thank you guys so much.” You turned to them with a big smile.

“No problem, babe,” Nat smiled. “You have training with me today at five.”

You nodded, “Noted.”

“There will be someone else joining you in trianing today,” Tony said.

“Who? Is it Bucky?” You asked. “No, he’s new,” Tony said.

“Wow, that gives me a lot. Who is it?” You pressed.

“You’ll see. He’s actually pretty good for just starting out,” Sam smirked.

You sighed, knowing they were gonna make it a surprise.

“Well, I can’t wait!” You faked enthusiasm. You didn’t like surprises.

You went off and up to your room, changing out of your suit and into running shorts and a t-shirt. You decided to take a nap before your training.

You woke up 2 hours later, still as exhausted as before. You filled up your water bottle before going into the gym. You saw Nat and a brunette boy. He wasn’t too much taller and by the back of his head, he didn’t look too much older.

“Hey, Nat,” you greeted as you walked in and set your water bottle near the mat.

“Hey, Y/n! This is our new recruit, Peter Parker. You probably know him as Spider-Man,” Nat smiled. Peter turned around and his eyes widened.

His heart started to race and his face turned red as he looked over you. Your eyes were bright and lively, your smile being the most gorgeous smile he’d ever seen. Your skin flawless and you had no makeup on, but you still looked beautiful.

“Hi,” you smiled. “I’m Y/n Stark,” you held out your hand.

Peter opened his mouth to speak, but the only sound that came out was a squeak. Nat and you chuckled at his shock.

“H-hi. I’m Parker. No, Pe-Peter,” he stuttered and shook your hand.

“Not used to meeting important people, huh?” You smirked.

“Ye-yeah, but also pretty people,” he blurted. His face turned a darker shade of red and he slapped his mad over his mouth.

The action made Nat giggle and his words made flustered as well.

“Thank you, Peter,” you said shyly and looked down at your shoes.

“Ready to get to work, love birds?” Nat teased.

You rolled your eyes and nodded. You took a long sip of water.

“We are gonna start on the treadmill, do some weights, and I’m gonna teach you some combat moves,” Nat instructed.

You and Peter nodded and got up on the treadmills.

“One mile today. Remember to pace yourself. If you get tired, don’t be afraid to slow down a little,” Nat said.

You started the treadmill at 3.5 so you can warm up for a few minutes before running. You took a small sip of your water as you sped-walked. You looked over and saw Peter already running his mile. Your brows cocked upwards as you saw him running at 6.0 speed.

You worked your way up to 6.0 speed, finishing your mile in 6 minutes. Peter, however, finished 3 minutes after you.

“I said pace yourself, kid,” Nat said.

Peter blushed again and nodded.

“Next time, follow Y/n’s lead. She paces herself nicely,” Nat said while you took a drink of water.

“Thanks, Nat. I have been doing this for a long time,” you smiled.

“How long? Are you a superhero?” Peter asked.

“Mhm,” you hummed. “I’ve been helping my dad since I was 10. I’ve been a superhero for 3 years.”

“What’s your superhero name?” Peter asked.

“Fox.”

“Oh, my God! Really? I-I am such a big fan. You were what actually inspired me to become Spider-Man. I think it’s so cool how you save people and fight off bad guys without any superpowers,” Peter gushed.

“Thank you, Pete,” you giggled at his excitement.

“You’re welcome. Wow, this is so cool. I am working with Fox, Iron Man, Black Widow,” Peter smiled.

“You’re lucky, kid,” Nat smiled and patted his back. “Okay, why don’t you all stretch. Peter, have you ever benched before?”

Peter shook his head while stretching his hamstrings.

“Okay, we’ll start you out with 45 pounds. If that’s too light, we’ll bump it up to 50,” Nat said and put the weights on the bar. “Y/n, what do you wanna do today?”

“Uh, I’ll do a leg and glute day today. My arms need a break,” you said.

“Rock and roll, then. I’ll spot you, Parker,” Nat said. Peter went to bench press while you went to the kickback machine.

You and Peter worked in weights for about an hour. You did a variety of workouts while Peter mainly focused on how to use each machine and which would be most beneficial for him.

“Okay. Grab a drink, use the bathroom, whatever you need before we do some fighting,” Nat said.

You both went to do your things before you were going to fight. You came back in the gym, stretching your arms while walking in.

“Ready to work, Pete?” You asked the boy and patted his back. He nodded and choked on his water when he looked up at you

You changed our of your shorts and t-shirt to black biker shorts and a grey sports bra. The biker shorts hugged your body perfectly and the top of your breats showed, making Peter stare.

You noticed and smirked. “My eyes are up here, kid.”

His eyes immediately shot up and his face blushed for what seemed like the 100th time today.

“I am so sorry. I just don’t see girls in bras, like, ever. In gym class we all wear t-shirts, which makes sense. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I swear I’m not a prevert or anything, you just look really uh... nice? I—”

Nat and you turned to each other, amusement played on your faces. You turned back to the rambling boy.

“It’s okay, Peter. I get it, boobs are nice to look at. Especially when you’re a hormonal, almost always horny, teenage boy,” you teased.

“I’m not horny!” He claimed, embarrassing himself more.

“Don’t worry, I never assumed you were. I was just speaking generally,” you smiled.

“Oh,” he said and he looked down sheepishly.

“No worries. Now, let’s get goin’,” you said.

Peter nodded and followed you to the mat.

“So, we are going to practice some basic moves. Y/n, I know you already know them, but there is nothing wrong with reviewing,” Nat said.

You both nodded, waiting for further instruction.

“So, the first one is simple, yet very dangerous. It’s also fairly easy, in my opinion. It’s called the rear neck choke,” Nat said. “Peter, you’re gonna stand behind Y/n and put your arm around her neck.”

Peter nodded and awkwardly stood behind you. Your butt brushed against his crotch, making him cough awkwardly. He put his arm around your neck. The skin-to-skin contact made your heart flutter. You cleared your throat, too, breathing deeply to try and slow your heart rate.

“Good. Now, you basically just squeeze until the person passes out. Y/n, why don’t you demenstrate the next move,” Nat said.

You smiled and took ahold of Peter’s arm. You then crouched down and pulled him over your head. You flipped him over on the mat.

“Ow,” he whined as he fell. He looked up at you and couldn’t help but smile. You stood tall, hands on your hips and a smile on your face.

“Now, Peter, what you can do when she does that is hook your legs on her ankles and pull so she looses balance. You then can reach for her ankle and throw her across the room. But, we arent going to do that. What you can do, though, is do the ankle bit I told you. Then you can pin her down,” Nat explained.

Peter looked at you two hesitantly. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Y/n chuckled, “It’s all right. You won’t hurt me that bad, I promise.”

Peter nodded and did as he was told. He hooked his feet over your ankle and jerked you so your feet gave out beneth you. He then got up quickly to pin you down, but you were quicker.

You rolled over and pinned him down instead. Your left hand held his wrists above his head while your right held down his shoulder. Your legs went around his waist and squeezed slightly to make sure he wouldn’t move. Your head leaned down to his, a triumphant smile resting on your lips.

“W-wha-” Peter was at a loss for words. Not just because you beat him, but how close you two were.

He breathed in deeply, catching a whiff of your scent. You smelled like cherries and vanilla. Your skin was smooth, clear, and glowing from the sheer film of sweat on your face. You looked like an angel to him, nonetheless.

“And that is why you gotta be faster, Parker. But you’ll learn in time. You’re already pretty good on the field by yourself,” Nat said.

Peter nodded. You got up off of him and helped him up.

“Wanna try that again? I promise I won’t do that again,” you suggested.

“Sure,” Peter nodded and laid back on the mat.

He hooked onto your ankle again. As you promised, you let him pin you down. You watched the way he moved. He was swift and fast. The way his muscles flexed when he grabbed your wrist made your stomach flip.

He got on top of you, pinning both your wrists like you did to him. His free hand went to the side of your face, helping him support himself so he wouldn’t be laying directly on top of you.

Your heart rate quickened once more and you felt like it was hard to breathe. A few strands of his hair were hanging down from his head and he had sweat glistening on his forehead. His honey-brown eyes was something you found yourself getting lost in quickly. He was so handsome.

“Uh... Y/n?” Peter muttered, catching your attention.

You blinked rapidly and looked away in embarrassment. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he gave you a friendly smile and got off of you.

“Okay, water break. You two practice those few moves a few more times,” Nat said.

You got up and took a big sip of your water bottle. You then got back to training with Peter. He was a fast learner and almost every time pinned you down. You, however, were slightly faster.

Each time you got on top of him, Peter couldn’t help the butterflies in his stomach. He’d never been this close to a girl before.

Thirty minutes later and the session was over.

“Good job, you two. Next time we’ll get into more moves involving punching and such. See you later, kiddos,” Nat smiled at you two. She left the gym and you turned to Peter.

“It was nice meeting you, Pete. Maybe we can hang out outside of training?” You suggested.

Peter’s eyes lit up and he nodded excitedly.

“Y-yeah. I’d like that.”

“Great. Give me your number next time. See you, Spidey,” you waved and left the gym.

Peter jumped up and down. He couldn’t wait to tell Ned.

————

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beewolfwrites · 3 years

Text

And When I am Formulated, Sprawling on a Pin - Chapter Eighteen: Do Not Go Gentle

Hello again! Welcome to Chapter 18 of this Chishiya x OC/Reader fic. So many of you loved the ending of the last chapter, I hope you like this one too.

There are certainly some... revelations coming to light.

You can find the full fanfic and this chapter here on AO3 too. Enjoy <3

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

The rooftop was usually quiet at this time, but not today. The ruckus below could be heard for miles, cheers and laughter stretching across Tokyo like sunlight. But even the sunlight left shadows in crevices and alleys.

Legs dangling off the roof, I watched on as Hatter, flanked by Aguni and several militants, got into a car. He waved and blew kisses at the swathes of Beach residents. It was one big show, nothing but superficiality as the Beach’s king headed off into battle. The sun bounced off his ring as he kissed a woman’s hand, the blinding light only serving to darken his sunglasses.

‘Not joining the party?’

I didn’t bother turning at the familiar voice. There was a rustle of fabric as he sat down beside me, leaving enough space between us that it wasn’t uncomfortable.

‘I’m not a party person.’

As the car pulled away from the hotel, my eyes drifted to Niragi who was standing by the hotel door. He looked visibly irritated, most likely because of the fire that had spontaneously started in his room the night before. Apparently, he’d gone on a rampage, throwing accusations and pinpointing certain names. In an attempt to calm him down, An had used her forensic background to sweep the room, only to find no fingerprints, hairs, or traces. Niragi had been seething ever since.

‘I’m guessing you heard about what happened,’ I tried to hide a smile. ‘Somebody tampered with the plugs of his bedside lamps while he was in the game last night. Whoever it was cut through both the earth wires and messed with the live wires.’

Like many of the other lamps in the hotel, they had metal casings. And because the bedside tables were made of wood, it didn’t take much for the metal to overheat.

Chishiya let out a content sigh. ‘There were no fingerprints. It could have been faulty wiring.’

‘That’s true,’ I said, thinking back to the box of disposable latex gloves in Chishiya’s room. ‘Though it’s one hell of a coincidence that it happened to both the bedside lamps.’

‘But not impossible.’

‘No,’ I said softly. ‘It’s not impossible.’

He reached into his pocket and held out the taser. ‘It wasn’t too bad. Just a case of rewiring it.’

Holding it in my lap, I felt instantly safer. ‘Thank you.’

We fell into companionable silence, me watching as Hatter drove off into the desolate Tokyo streets, and Chishiya mulling over whatever crazy calculations were running through his mind. Eventually, when the car disappeared into the dust, the Beach residents retreated back to the patio, continuing as usual as they waited for the return of their king.

‘Hatter’s going to die in this game, isn’t he?’

‘Of course,’ Chishiya said. ‘That’s why I’ve invited Arisu up here with us.’

‘You’re going to include them in the plan?’

A faint smile ghosted his features. ‘Did you think you were special because I included you?’

‘Of course not. That’s ridiculous.’ It was ridiculous, and yet something unpleasant twinged in my chest at the thought that it wasn’t just me, him and Kuina. It begged the question, if he wanted help from Arisu and Usagi, why did he bother with me? ‘Chishiya, I know I’ve asked you this before, but why did you bring me here?’

‘If you’ve asked me before then you’ll already know the answer.’

The answer was that I was useful to the Beach, but something told me it wasn’t the true answer. There was something I was missing here, if only I could figure out what it was.

‘No,’ I said. ‘Why did you really bring me here?’

He didn’t reply, but I could see him considering the question, thinking of all the different avenues he could take to answer it. Lucky for him, he never had to, as the rooftop door swung open and Kuina stepped out, followed by Arisu. He looked pained, as though he’d seen a ghost, but when he saw me, his expression filled with recognition.

‘I remember you from the Tag game,’ he said.

I gave him a smile. ‘も覚えています.’ I remember you too.

He relaxed slightly at seeing a familiar face, but when he turned back to Chishiya, there was still some mistrust there. ‘You and Kuina wanted me to come up here. What’s going on?’

Chishiya and I got to our feet, and I was reminded a little of the time when I had been invited up here too. Only now, my bruises had healed, and Chishiya and I were on good terms again.

‘I’d like to ask you one thing,’ Chishiya said, his tone calm and calculating as always. ‘How do you plan to live in a world that’s so full of despair?’

Arisu seemed visibly surprised by the question. But I wasn’t. I knew Chishiya enough to see that this was a test. What the answer was didn’t really matter. It was all just a way for him to gauge Arisu’s personality and analyse which parts of his nature could come in use. Seeing this test being used on someone else, I wondered how often Chishiya had deployed the same tactics on me.

‘I’ve come this far,’ Arisu said, ‘and I just want to know who’s behind all of this, who I should get revenge on. And if there’s only one person who can leave, I want to make sure it’s Usagi.’

Usagi must be the name of the climber girl.

Chishiya smiled. ‘It’s a good answer.’

‘でも、悪い溶液だ,’ I said. But it’s not a good solution.

Kuina strolled along the edge of the rooftop. ‘In order to leave, you and Usagi would have to win game after game and become number one. It’s impossible.’

Arisu’s face fell, although he must’ve known this deep down already. It was impossible to win every game, and despite how much we talked about surviving, Kuina, Chishiya and I would probably die before then. The odds were against us.

‘It has nothing to do with you guys anyway,’ Arisu said, defensively.

‘We think you have potential,’ Chishiya replied, looking out in the direction where Hatter’s car had disappeared. ‘That’s why we came to find you earlier.’

‘Potential….’ Arisu’s confusion was illustrated all over his face.

‘What if I said there’s a way to change the status quo all at once?’ Chishiya casually suggested, and Arisu’s eyes widened.

I drifted in and out of understanding as Chishiya explained how the tensions between the militant sect and the idealist sect were growing stronger, and that Hatter would probably not return home from his game today. Arisu’s nervous reaction was too open, too trusting.

He wears his heart on his sleeve. That’s why Chishiya picked him.

‘What are you planning?’ He glanced between the three of us.

Chishiya’s smile was terrifying. ‘I plan to steal all the playing cards,’ he said. ‘We’re leaving the Beach.’

And just like that, Arisu was hooked. Trapped in the net of manipulation so carefully laid out for him.

Chishiya was a trickster. Now that I could his tricks laid bare in the sunlight, it was more obvious than ever before. In my head, I ran through all the conversations I’d had with him, but there was nothing that stood out as obvious lies or half-truths.

And he’s always helped me. He screwed with Niragi’s lamps and started that fire. He didn’t have to do that… it can’t have been for nothing.

As if sensing the conflict within me, Chishiya’s eyes locked onto mine from across the roof. They were guarded and distant, with just a hint of something warmer, and a little voice in my head told me it wasn’t real, it couldn’t have been real. Yet it didn’t stop my heart from shuddering, or my face from glowing under the sunlight.

And all at once, I realised I was just as stuck as Arisu.

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

Later that day, Hatter failed to return from his game.

It was information kept within the executives out of fear that the Beach’s residents would panic. Naturally, Chishiya had told Kuina, Arisu, Usagi and I, not that it was a surprise to any of us. Apparently, gunshots had been heard in the area, but the only witnesses around were militants, and each and every one of them swore that Hatter died in his game.

There was no time to waste, and the situation had formed a perfect opportunity. Chishiya had invited us to his room to go over the the plan, but now that it was actually happening, it felt a lot more nerve-wracking.

Arisu and Usagi were sitting in their chairs, sharing uneasy glances as they wondered whether to go ahead with this. From my seat on the couch, I listened carefully while Chishiya brushed through the details in Japanese. He was speaking slower than usual, probably so I could understand as much as possible, but there were still some things I would have to ask about later.

He began passing around walkie-talkies, sliding them across the coffee table towards Arisu and Usagi. As he placed the device in my palm, his fingers brushed mine.

‘The playing cards,’ he said. ‘they’re kept in a safe hidden somewhere in the royal suite. Nobody knows the passcode except the current number-one. But because there’s always chance that the number-one could die in a game, the code is also kept in a black envelope. The black envelope is only opened when there’s a new number-one.’ He sighed. ‘There’ll be a meeting tomorrow, and Aguni will open it in front of all the executives.’

The system itself made sense, but how could Chishiya find out the passcode without being able to see inside an opaque black envelope?

He’s cunning, but cunning doesn’t give you x-ray vision.

‘It’s only read by number-one, right?’ I asked, wondering if I’d missed something along the way in my attempt at translating.

‘That’s right. But as for the safe itself, Arisu will be the one to infiltrate the royal suite.’

Arisu frowned. ‘But what about the passcode?’

‘I already have an idea about that,’ Chishiya said dismissively. ‘I’ll tell you when you’re in front of the safe.’

‘You really are cautious,’ Arisu replied with a grin. He nodded. ‘Got it!’

Chishiya looked at Kuina and Usagi. When he turned to me, I dropped my eyes to the coffee table, feeling embarrassed at how I was acting. It was as if I were a schoolgirl again. ‘You three will be on the lookout,’ he said.

Usagi flinched, eyeing the walkie talkie in her palm. ‘It’s too dangerous,’ she whispered. ‘If we’re found out, we’ll be killed.’

Her eyes were hazy with worry, and it was obvious she cared deeply about Arisu. They must’ve stuck together after the Tag game, becoming not just allies, but something more. It was clear as day from the way they looked at each other.

‘It’s fine, Usagi,’ Arisu tried to console her. ‘With Hatter dead, there’s no unity at the Beach. This is the only way.’

I wanted to believe him, I truly did. But as I bore witness to Chishiya’s growing influence on Arisu, the more doubts I had. Looking at him now, beyond his calm surface, there was something calculating there. An empty darkness. And I was right in the middle of it.

Just what are you really planning?

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

The next day, Chishiya disappeared to attend the opening of the black envelope. It meant the rest of us had a few hours to kill before the executives and militants would hold a speech in the lobby to declare Aguni as the Beach’s new king.

I was sitting alone in my room, the walkie talkie on the desk beside me as I ran through the plan over and over. There was so much that could go wrong.

So far, I had intentionally stayed hidden. With Hatter had gone, there was nothing stopping Niragi from killing me and having done with it, and if I wanted to make it out of this place, it was best to keep my head down and remain out of sight. Luckily, my visa still had four days left, so I didn’t have to worry about running into Niragi at a game or in the lobby again.

If everything goes well, I’ll be seeing the last of him.

There was a knock at the door and Kuina called out from the other side.

‘Door’s open!’

Kuina entered, looking cheery and troubled all at once. ‘When is it not?’ she said, taking a seat on my bed as she played with her hair.

I folded my arms against the back of the chair as I took in her dismal energy. ‘You look drained. Something happen?’

She stared at the carpet. ‘Nope, but something will. I can sense it.’

She must be feeling it too.

‘Do you think the plan’s going to fail?’ I asked.

She laughed at first, then frowned. ‘I don’t know. It might, it might not. I just hate waiting like this. It feels a bit like waiting to die.’

The sun was beginning to set, and our time at the Beach was drawing to a close. Either we’d make it out and escape tonight, or we’d be deemed traitors and made an example of. It all depended on whether Chishiya could figure out the passcode, and whether Arisu could locate the safe in the first place. I bit my lip at the thought, tasting metal on my tongue.

I hate putting my life in someone else’s hands.

‘Kuina,’ I said, feeling a little awkward. ‘Do you trust Chishiya?’

She seemed to struggle with the question as she took her time to answer. ‘Not exactly. I trust him to a degree, and we’ve kind of become friends, you know. But if it really came down to it, he would put himself over me, if it means he’s able to survive. He might feel bad about it afterwards – or not, who knows? But that’s what he’d do.’ She looked at me, perplexed. ‘Why?’

My mind skipped through every time I had caught myself caring about him… the comfort I felt around him during the Hunting Season game… the fear of seeing him injured and the guilt of knowing he was in pain… the hurt every time he upset me… and the warmth of safety, knowing he was looking out for me in his own way. Even if he was downright cruel, he always gave me a reason to keep going.

‘I don’t either.’ I swallowed, trying to force myself to admit the truth. ‘But at the same time, I think I feel something… for him, I mean.’

Kuina took the quit-smoking aide out of her mouth. ‘I know.’

My head shot up.

What?

‘You know?’ I asked, surprised, confused and overwhelmed all at once. ‘How did you know before I did?’

She shrugged. ‘Because any idiot could see it, even Niragi. You’ve got some serious chemistry going on there.’ With a shake of her head, she said. ‘It’s a shame he’s such an asshole.’

I pushed my head in my hands, but it wasn’t enough to hide my embarrassment. I felt so exposed, like my mind and heart were put on display. If it was that obvious, it meant everyone would have been able to see it. Everyone.

‘Chishiya already knows, doesn’t he?’ It wasn’t even a question at this point.

She tilted her head from side to side, trying to make me feel better by pretending there might have been some room for error. ‘He probably does.’

‘There’s no ‘probably’,’ I groaned. ‘He definitely knows. Nothing gets past him.’

‘Can’t say I agree with your taste in men,’ she said, quietly, ‘but I guess it’s too late to interfere.’ Even though her tone was lighthearted, there was an edge there. ‘What are you going to do about it?’

How do I even begin to answer that question?

I slumped down onto the back of the chair, tired and exasperated with the whole thing. It had always been my dream up until now, to fall in love, live freely and keep looking to the future. But not like this. It was the wrong place, the wrong time, and as much as I hated to admit it, the wrong kind of person.

‘Who knows?’ I groaned. ‘This isn’t exactly the best place to fall in love with someone. This was what I always wanted, but now that it’s happening, I have no idea what I’m supposed to do.’

I looked to Kuina for advice, hoping she’d anchor me down and tell me it was going to be fine. Instead, she was at a loss, unsure of what to suggest.

But then the walkie talkie on the desk hummed to life, and it no longer mattered.

‘They’re about to make the speech.’ Chishiya’s static voice buzzed through. ‘It’s time.’

#alice in borderland #aib #imawa no kuni no arisu #chishiya #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya x oc #chishiya x reader #chishiya alice in borderland

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whimsimmortal · 3 years

Text

You Mocha Me Blush

Please accept this Tumblr repost of my second published DP fanfiction--or, better yet, go check it out on my AO3!

Summary: Paulina's routine weekend is interrupted by a (more or less standard) ghost fight... and she can't help but wonder if this is the chance she's been waiting for! Too bad she isn't nearly as suave around Amity's #1 celebrity crush as she is around everyone else...

(no gore, no angst, only a big dumb cheesy crush haha)

It began peacefully, for a Saturday morning at the mall. Starr wouldn’t catch up until closer to 11, but Paulina didn’t mind getting an early look at the sales. The quiet helped her to focus, and she had already been moderately successful; a bag containing a cute new pair of ankle boots and a handful of new lip gloss colors hung off one arm, and in her other hand she cradled a steaming, fragrant salted caramel mocha to-go; a treat she reserved for the weekends, as she had a figure to maintain. The sound of shoppers chatting and the smell of greasy, sugary treats from the food court permeated the air. A perky pop song played over the speakers, and she hummed and swayed her hips a little to the beat. Nothing could make this morning more perfect!

An employee darted out of a store up ahead and maniacally took off running down the hallway, face pale and eyes wide. Paulina paused to watch him go by, bemused. What was his problem? Instantly, an unnaturally echoing crash reverberated through the main hallway, causing the lights overhead to shudder and spit. Windows rattled, displays shook, and a tipsy mannequin in a store entryway toppled over. Before the ghost alarm system could instruct pedestrians to evacuate, shoppers armed with many months of routine practice were already streaming out of stores and following the established escape routes. Thankfully, it wasn’t as busy as it would be later in the day, so the crowds were relatively calm. A few young children cried, and the most daring wannabe journalist split off from the herd to find better angles to video the oncoming ghost fight.

A chilling draft tousled Paulina’s hair from a few departments over. An unfamiliar, vague silhouette of a garish green ghost swung a clothing rack through a glass display, shattering it. “Trespassers,” she shrieked. “Get out!” She reared back and haphazardly pitched the flimsy metal structure at the diminishing crowd. Paulina ducked into a nearby photo booth to hide, even though she was pretty sure she hadn’t been seen yet. She leaned against the interior wall and took a few deep breaths, trying to stop her legs from shaking. She was perfectly safe; the ghost boy would be here any minute! She was close this time, she could watch him fight! She allowed herself a giddy grin, here where no one else could see her. Maybe he’d notice her looking. Maybe he’d be close enough for her to say hello. Maybe he’d wish her a good morning, and flash her one of those dazzling smiles. She should offer to buy him a coffee! It would be quiet, because everyone else would have left, so they could sit at her favorite booth and tell each other anything. Did he have anyone else to talk to? She’d listen to anything that magical voice said, and she’d feel like the most special girl in the whole world, even if no one else ever knew—

Another crash broke through her beautiful daydream, and she gasped, dropping her shopping bag to clutch her lipstick taser. She peeked out from behind the curtain. “Thieves!” The ghost shrilled. The few workers who hadn’t already snuck out of back doors were scuttling down the hallway, heads low. “Greedy sharks! Heartless blood-sucking coin purses!”

“Actually,” a bright, buzzing voice butted in, “I think the vampire totes are a few stores that way.” There he was! The few scattered people still standing nearby cheered.

The evil ghost lady puffed up at the new intruder, semi-translucent energy particles shedding off her form like glitter. “You aren’t welcome here! Leave! This is my property!”

“Um, no? Look, I’m not a vampire, either. This is a public establishment. You have a perfectly good lair in the zone!”

The ghost keened, and the radio dissolved into static. “I will tear this house of gluttony down board by board and rebuild what is mine! Help me, or be buried in the rubble!”

She was answered with a solid beam of energy to the gut. Her somewhat corporeal form crashed loudly into the opposite wall, tearing through the advertisement poster and crumbling the plaster beneath. “Thanks for the offer, but no. The good people of amity need their local hot topic!”

It didn’t take him long to subdue the unfamiliar ghost. She managed to animate a few of the nearest mannequins, but they didn’t stand a chance against Amity’s hero. Almost too soon, the remnants of wailing vapor were sucked into that strange canister he carried.

He hooked the device onto his belt and turned, yawning and stretching his arms overhead. “Welp, sorry about the mess. Have a good weekend, everyone, and stay safe!”

Crap, he was leaving! Paulina darted out of her hiding place. “Wait!” She picked her way through the strewn debris and glass shards as quickly as she dared.

The ghost boy took a single step back, but he didn’t take off. He raised an eyebrow at her, hands still suspended in the air. “Don’t shoot?”

“What do you-” she was still holding up the lipstick taser. It fell from her hand with a clatter. “Mierda, no, no, I would never! I only meant, um.” Why was this so much harder than screaming up at him from a group of fans? She was a performer, darnit—a beautiful, charismatic, independent woman! She could do this!

But he was otherworldly, and heroic, and gorgeous, and on top of all that, he was real. Personable. She didn’t usually see his face this close. He had a great smile. The glow from his eyes effortlessly did a better job of contouring his face than she could ever hope to do… and yet, as she looked closely, she couldn’t help but notice the bags under his eyes. He was tired, she realized. It made sense—he’d been on the news just this morning for a fight late last night, just like he always was—but it was so totally unfair.

He didn’t look like he needed an impromptu date with a stranger. He looked like he needed a coffee break.

“Thirsty?” She spouted spontaneously, holding out her arm to him with all the grace and charm of a plank of wood.

He blinked twice down at the proffered disposable coffee cup, causing the green spotlight he cast on it to strobe slightly. “Huh?”

She felt her face heat, and her toes curled in her cute flats. “I mean, can ghosts drink? Because I got you a coffee,” she lied. “As a thank-you gift for protecting the mall.”

“Oh.” His smooth, gloved hand folded around hers to accept the offering. She struggled to make her fingers let go. “Thank you?”

She beamed. “My pleasure!”

Curious bystanders were starting to drift closer. The ghost drifted up and away slowly, taking an experimental sip. “Whoa, it’s really good,” he murmured. His eyes met hers one more time, and she couldn’t be sure, but his cheeks seemed to be glowing a little brighter than usual. “Uh, take care, I’ll see you around,” he chirped, before streaking off through the distant ceiling.

She stood there and stared at the spot he’d disappeared through, heart still beating fast, until a grumbling janitor shooed her aside to sweep up the rubble. As she made her way back to her abandoned purchases, she silently vowed to always carry an extra cup of coffee through the mall… just in case.

#Whimsi writes #Danny Phantom #Paulina Sanchez #pink astronaut #shallow ocean #fanfiction #fluff #cute #romance #cheesy #drabble

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concealeddarkness13 · 2 years

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WHG 16 Sentiment and Attachment Part 3

Warning for Maisa continuing to be super creepy. Also needles. Tagging the heist crew! @ratracechronicler, @maple-writes (also thanks for Indigo!), @pen-of-roses, @onmywaytobe, @knmartinshouldbewriting, and @wrenlaw!

The Peacekeepers swore and hit me with their tasers (that weren’t on) when they finally got around the bed that I had somehow maneuvered to be lodged between the door and a wall so that it was impossible to open the door. So, they had to cut up the door to get in. That meant I probably wouldn’t even have my bed tonight, but inconveniencing the Peacekeepers was worth it.

I struggled against the Peacekeepers as they dragged me off somewhere, but I wasn’t as strong as usual because I hadn’t had any sleep for two nights now. I had to figure something out, but I couldn’t sleep in the Capitol. What if they tried something while I was vulnerable?

They shoved me into an office, and I glared at the person they had brought me to. Science Bastard Lady. Of course. She was sitting at a fancy desk, and she waved off the Peacekeepers. “Come with me.”

I kept glaring, but I did follow her when she stood up and started walking. I didn’t want her to already threaten me with returning me to Maisa. I’d rather at least do something truly annoying to deserve the threat.

She walked down to what looked suspiciously like a lab space, and I eyed the table especially. Could they strap me down? What was she going to do? What the fuck did they want from me? I should have punched her before we got here.

She gestured to a stool. “Sit.”

Shit, shit, shit. There were needles, machines, medications in cabinets. What were they going to do? Would it be worth it to try and run? I glanced behind me, but of course, there were cameras, and the doors were heavy. Probably locked. Shit. Was there a vent I could use to escape? Nope. Not one that was big enough.

Shit. I started breathing faster as I sat down on that fucking stool.

She started going through some cupboards. “They want me to take some samples.”

What the hell did that mean? I coughed up some smoke. “What?”

“I’m not going to cut you open or anything.” Oh, I felt so much better with that brilliant reassurance. She set some science shit on the counter in front of her. “They want me to run tests which is ridiculous because what could they honestly hope to find out but here we are.”

I tensed more. How could I escape? The doors were all heavy and most likely locked. The vents were too small for me to squeeze through. There weren’t any windows. And Science Bastard Lady would threaten me with going back to Maisa if I didn’t cooperate. Was it worth it to not have to deal with science shit? …No. It wasn’t. Shit. Still, I had to try. “You’re not fucking touching me.”

“I don’t intend to hurt you. I can offer sedation if you like.” She still wasn’t looking at me, instead, preparing things. “I’m not going to be too invasive either.”

Shit. I felt like a cornered animal. I looked away from her. “What kind of tests?”

“Cheek swab, blood sample if I can.” She put on some gloves and turned around, and I flinched at the snap. The blood sample meant needles. I coughed up some more smoke as my breathing quickened more. She kept talking. “They probably want more but I don’t think they would yield anything worth the time.”

“Needles,” I muttered venomously. I didn’t really know why I hated needles so much, but I did. “You might want to strap me down. I’m not going to let that happen without a fight.” Damn it, she did give me lunch yesterday. So, I actually felt a bit more like I could trust her over the other Capitol bastards. Which meant I should at least warn her.

She sighed. “I really don’t want to have to do that.”

I coughed out some more smoke, and my breathing was getting shallow and too fast. I couldn’t do this. “I’m not going to just let you do that.”

Indigo leaned against the counter, massaging her forehead. “Just work with me here Chess. I don’t want to risk injury restraining you.”

I tried taking deep breaths, but it was so fucking hard. My fire was getting worse, burning my throat. I started coughing up a lot of smoke and even a bit of fire, and it took me a few minutes to get it back under tentative control. “I…I can’t.”

“All you have to do is sit still.”

Did she know how hard that was when I panicked at the sight of needles? (Don’t ask me how I stood still when they had to put the covering over my prosthetics. Maybe my impending death made me braver?) Now that the Capitol was keeping me alive and I probably had way more science shit for me to look forward to, I lost any will to cooperate with Science Bastard Lady. “I’m not cooperating with the Capitol.”

She swore and turned around, slamming her hands against the counter. She stood there, taking deep breaths as I stared at her and coughed some more. She turned to face me again after a few minutes. “I’m sorry about that.” She took a long breath. “I don’t want to hurt you, and I don’t want to cause you undue distress, but I do need to collect these things from you.”

I shook my head. Science Bastard Lady had been nicer than anyone else in the Capitol, and there was nowhere to run. So, I might as well explain. “I’m sorry. I can’t. I barely held it together when they put the covering over my prosthetics. And I have to stick by what I decided. Sedate me if you have to.”

“Okay.” She paused, looking thoughtful. “I take it you would rather avoid a needle for that?”

Fucking needles. “Would prefer that, yes.”

She nodded. “I’ll have someone bring something, just give me a moment.” She took out a phone and stepped out of the room through one of the heavy doors. I stood up and tried to open the door after her, but it wouldn’t open for me. Damn. Maybe some kind of high tech shit that recognized the person who wanted to open the door? I walked back to the stool and sat down so it looked like I hadn’t tried to escape.

Science Bastard Lady walked back in. “I have a colleague on the way.” She shut the door behind her, and I flinched. “I can do the cheek swab in the meantime.”

I swallowed hard. It wasn’t a needle, it wasn’t a needle. “Fine.”

She grabbed some supplies and walked over. “Open your mouth.”

I hesitated, but there was no way to escape, and I’d rather stay with this science bastard instead of going back to Maisa. So, I opened my mouth.

She swabbed my mouth and sealed it away, and I looked away from her, still tensed, still breathing too fast. Someone else came in and handed Science Bastard Lady something, and they left. But they had closed the door behind them when they came in and left, so I couldn’t escape that way either.

She walked away and grabbed some things. “This won’t put you all the way under but it will make you drowsy.” She walked back over to me and handed me a pill and some water. “It will also take a little while to work but it avoids the extra needle.”

I started shaking. Wow. I was really willingly letting this happen. But what else could I do? I couldn’t escape. Fighting wouldn’t do anything. Wouldn’t it be better to at least be sedated? Shit, I didn’t know. But if I didn’t take it, she could threaten with Maisa again, and being stubborn for this wasn’t worth going back to Maisa. I nodded and took the pill.

“Good.” She sat on another stool. “Now we wait and see.”

It took a while, but my brain started slowing and my limbs started to feel like lead. Everything felt sluggish and muffled, like there was cotton in my ears. I blinked at her as she started moving. What was she doing? Did it matter?

She said something and took my arm and pulled some blood, but I just blinked at her and didn’t fight. I…didn’t want to, and anyway, I could barely move my limbs. There was nothing I could do. I was so tired anyway.

She finished and led me to her office and laid me down on the floor, and I closed my eyes and actually fell asleep.

I felt so groggy when I woke up, but I didn’t feel sluggish anymore. And I could move my limbs easier. I picked my head up to look around. What had happened? I looked down at my left arm, and there was a bandage there. “Did you do it?” Science Bastard Lady was sitting at her desk working on her computer.

She didn’t look up from her computer as she nodded. “It’s done.”

“Good.” I put my head back down and stared at the ceiling. “I feel like shit.”

“Be patient. You probably still have some of the drug in your system.”

I hated waiting when I didn’t choose it. So, I had to bother her. “What were the tests for?”

“DNA sequencing and standard bloodwork.” She glanced at me. “Won’t have results immediately.”

“Interesting.” I didn’t really know what those tests would show. “What’re you working on?”

She turned the computer so I could actually see. “Research proposal.”

I sat up and looked at it, but there were too many big words, and I had no idea what it was saying. “About what?”

She didn’t respond right away. “Trying to get people to support a project where we see if we can swap DNA between animals to make organ transplants safer.”

Animals? Did they have animals here? I had to see them! “Do you have animals here?”

She nodded. Hell yeah! “We have some in this facility.”

I had to think of an excuse, even if it was flimsy and obviously not true. “Um. Could I see them? Totally because it’ll be the way that you can convince me to cooperate.”

She glanced at the computer before closing it. “Sure. Come with me.”

I couldn’t stop the grin that pulled at my lips as I jumped up and followed Science Bastard Lady (a little more affectionately thought) through the hallways to a room where there were racks of small tanks filled with striped fish! They were so small and cute!

Before I could run up to the tanks, she pointed at a mat soaked in a pink liquid. “Dip your feet in this. And don’t touch anything.”

Spoilsport. But I did as she told me and then ran up to a tank, staring and clasping my hands behind my back so I wouldn’t have as much of a chance of accidentally touching something. I leaned in to watch the fish flitting around in the tank, and I got as close as I could without touching anything.

She glanced at a chart near the tank I was watching. “We’re raising successive generations after gene alterations.” She gestured at my tank. “These are the third generation of their trial.”

What the hell did all that mean? I just liked watching the fish. “They’re so pretty.” Their scales looked a little iridescent in the light.

“They can be cute. We have rats as well in another lab.”

Oh shit. Fuzzy creatures! I looked over at her with a grin. “Rats! Can I see them?”

She nodded and led me to a different lab filled with tubes with rats. I grinned at all of them. Was there any way that I could open all of them and just lie on the floor as they laid on top of me (don’t tell me how unsanitary that is; I know, and I don’t care). I had found that animals seemed to like me because I was warmer than normal people, so they liked lying on top of me, and I loved them.

While I was imagining all the rats covering me, Science Bastard Lady took one of the tubes and set it on a table. I walked over and stared at the rat. Beautiful. I reached out instinctively, wanting to open the tube, but I glanced at Science Bastard Lady and took my hand back. I just stared at the rat as it stared back, sniffing in my direction. “I love it.”

I saw her smile in the corner of my eyes, and I almost dropped the grin just to be stubborn. But the rat was too cute. Science Bastard Lady opened the tube and scooped out the rat and held it out to me. “Cup your hands.”

My mouth dropped open. She was really going to let me hold the rat? I did as she said, and she set it in my hands. Where it started grooming its face. Beautiful. 10/10. Science Bastard Lady spoke. “We handle them frequently. It’s less stressful for when we need to perform procedures if they are already used to handling.”

I paused in my adoration of the rat in my hands. Wait. That sounded too coincidental. Was she trying to lull me into a false sense of security? I glanced at her. “Trying for a veiled metaphor?”

“Metaphor?”

“Talking about how they’re easier to do things to if you handle them often. Sounds awfully like how you might be trying to convince me. I’m not going to cooperate.”

She shrugged. “We handle the nasty ones gently as we can as well, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“No, I just don’t want you to get your hopes up that this might be working.”

She nodded and grabbed a treat from a container. “You can give this to her if you like.”

I nodded and took the treat and gave it to the rat as gently as I could, staring as she took it and nibbled on it. She was so beautiful. At least I could have this experience. It was amazing.

Sure enough, no bed in my room anymore, but the door was fixed, so at least I had privacy. I had nothing left to use as a barricade against the door, though, so I wasn’t able to stop anyone from coming in anymore.

So, I just sat on the floor and waited for what was inevitable. Maisa kept me waiting for a few hours, but there finally was a knock on my door. It opened, and Maisa walked in looking like Vesper. I swallowed hard and looked away from her.

She laughed, and I flinched at the sound of her voice. Vesper. At least I had been able to protect her, but I could only hope that she wasn’t beating herself up about it. I didn’t regret protecting her.

I didn’t move as she walked in and sat beside me, leaning against me. She’d be prepared for me trying to burn her this time. Was there anything else I could do to stop her?

She glanced at my prosthetic as she brushed her fingers up my arm. I shuddered at the touch. Vesper…it was hard for her to be comfortable getting physically close to anyone. And here Maisa was just casually doing whatever she wanted using Vesper’s face. I clenched my fist but didn’t start a fire.

“What, no fire tonight, Troublemaker?” I flinched at Conor’s nickname, and she laughed. “You realized that I wouldn’t let that happen a second time. Smart girl.”

She slipped a hand under my shirt, and I jumped up and backed away from her, starting to shake. “Stay away from me.”

She stood up as well and slunk toward me. I backed up until I hit the wall, and she caressed my cheek. “You won’t be able to deny me this time, Troublemaker. The wait has been long enough.”

She held my non-prosthetic hand and rubbed her thumb over my wrist, but she was still glancing at my prosthetic arm warily. So, she didn’t particularly want to get burned again. And I had an idea.

My non-prosthetic hand burst into the hottest flame I could create, and I grunted at the instant pain, but Maisa hissed and jumped back. I extinguished the flame quickly and glared at her. “I will do anything to keep you away from me.”

Maisa cocked her head. “You are truly fascinating, Troublemaker. You can fight against the emotions, and you’d rather hurt yourself than give in. I almost enjoy this better than the fun I would have with you,” she purred (which made me shudder coming from Vesper’s voice). “I suppose I can honor your wishes, just to see how long you’ll hold out. No other soft human touch. No one else who cares about you. How long until you’re begging me to spend the night with you?” She laughed and gestured at her appearance. “This one didn’t take much convincing. I just had to imply that I was threatening the people she cared about, and she was mine. But I want to try something else with you. I’ve heard about you, about how you will spend the night with absolute strangers just to have someone next to you. How long will it take before you need it here?”

I bared my teeth. Piece of shit. “I’ll never want it from you.”

She laughed. “We’ll see, Troublemaker. I’ll come every night to see if you’re still vehement about it.” I just glared at her, and she smirked. “You know that’s all anyone cares about you for. And that’s all you’re good for, Troublemaker.”

I just glared at her, and she giggled. “You truly are fun! I can’t wait to see you tomorrow!”

She left with a little wave, and my legs buckled from under me and I collapsed on the floor. I was only good for one thing. I couldn’t protect my friends. I couldn’t even stay with the people I cared about when I told them I would. And did they even care about me? Did anyone?

#writeblr hunger games #writeblr #whg #trigger warning

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super-dinosaurs-writing · 4 years

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Mortality

So The Old Guard. Literally the best action movie of the year. (Thanks for doing it right, Netflix). Also, I can’t stop getting these two immortal boyfriends who met in the Crusades out of my head. Their relationship is so good and healthy and overall just really well written so of course it sparked this. Enjoy!

(Nicky x Joe--The Old Guard (Netflix 2020))

*****

Nile, Nicky, and Joe were staying at an abandoned church on the coast of Greece when it happened. The door blew off its hinges and the room filled with smoke. They scrambled for cover by the hazy light cast from the TV and a few lights along the walls.

Someone grabbed Nicky and he struggled to break free, but they jammed a taser into his spine. He tried to call out as they clamped a heavy gloved hand over his mouth.

“Nicolo!” Joe shouted through the smoke.

Run, Nicky thought, hoping someone in the cosmos would send him the message.

He blacked out as they dragged him away, only to wake up in a lab strapped to a chair. He began to have flashbacks to all those years ago at Merrick Pharmaceuticals, his breath quickening in his chest.

“Hey,” Nile’s voice said from somewhere to his left. “Nicky, breathe.”

Slowly, his breathing steadied. Once he got a good look at the lab around them, he strained against his bonds. Shooting pain in his right wrist stopped him.

“Ah,” he gasped, staring at his swollen arm, the bones slowly, painfully cracking back into place. It was taking too long.

“What is it?” Nile asked.

“My wrist,” he breathed.

“They threw you into the van pretty hard,” she explained. “But that was hours ago. Shouldn’t it have--”

“It should have,” Nicky muttered, tipping his head back to stare at the ceiling.

“Nicky--”

He didn’t say anything as he closed his eyes and muttered a prayer in Italian. Hoping desperately that the same thing wasn’t happening to Joe, that he had gotten away.

“Did you see Joe?” he whispered when he had finished, refusing to let his tears betray him. “Did he get out?”

“No,” she said. “No, I didn’t see him.”

Nicky swore in Italian as a metal door in front of them slid open. A woman in a lab coat over a belted red dress entered the lab ahead of a man in black combat gear hefting a rifle in his hands.

“Welcome,” the woman said, her voice dripping in honey. “I am Dr. Richards, head of Richards Medical. My husband is the CEO. You’ll be meeting him later.”

Nicky took note of the handgun hanging from her belt.

“I must admit, I was hoping for someone else,” she said, approaching Nicky’s right side. “But you two will have to do for now until we find her instead.”

“Who were you hoping for?” Nile asked.

“A friend of yours. I believe her name is Andy. At least it is in this century.”

“Andromache is dead,” Nicky spat.

The doctor slapped him across the face. “Don’t lie to me.”

“We buried her yesterday,” he explained. “And you insult her memory.”

“Then I’ll have to test my theories on you instead,” she said, setting her jaw.

Nicky braced himself as she grabbed a scalpel from a tray nearby. Carefully, she drew a long but shallow cut along his forearm. Then she waited. Nothing happened.

“Why aren’t you healing?” she hissed, drawing another cut parallel to the first.

“Everything living must die, Doctor,” Nicky said, keeping his eyes on the ceiling.

“And what about you?” the doctor spit at Nile. “Are you dying, too?”

The doctor was about to come around Nicky and try the scalpel on Nile when they heard gunfire outside the door. Nicky turned his head and locked eyes with Nile as the armed guard went for the door. The heavy sheet of metal exploded, throwing the guard back and knocking him unconscious. Joe and Booker appeared from the clearing smoke.

Nicky felt something cold at his temple. The doctor held her pistol to his head, staring them down fearfully. They kept their guns raised at her.

“Come closer and I’ll shoot him,” she spat.

Booker scoffed, a sly smile on his face, but something else played behind Joe’s eyes.

“Yusuf,” Nicky said, locking eyes with Joe, the gun still pressed to his head, his tears finally betraying him. He spoke in Arabic, a language they rarely used with each other. “I love you, always.”

He watched as Joe’s eyes tracked the two perfect parallel lines on Nicky’s arm, still bleeding, refusing to heal.

“Amore mio, non mi lasciare,” Joe breathed. My love, don’t leave me. He held up his hands, dropping his gun to the floor. “Booker, put the gun down.”

“Are you crazy?” Booker hissed.

“Put it down,” Joe said sternly, his eyes never leaving Nicky’s. “He’s mortal.”

Realization fell on Booker’s face, not even his jealousy getting the best of him. He placed his gun on the floor and held his hands up.

“Have a seat, gentlemen,” the doctor said, using one hand to gesture toward two more chairs, the other still held the gun to Nicky’s head. Joe took the chair next to Nicky, Booker on his other side.

“Now that that’s settled,” Dr. Richards said, finally pulling the gun away and placing it back at her belt, “let’s get started changing the face of modern medicine, shall we?”

Luckily, she had made a mistake. She put her gun away before restraining the others.

Joe sat up and punched her across the jaw. She managed to get one swing at his face, but he was quick to take the handgun from her belt. Two shots went off and she was down before Booker could even get out of his chair to help.

“You’re alright?” Joe whispered as he removed the straps over Nicky’s arms.

He nodded, pulling him down to kiss him as soon as his hands were free. When they parted, Nicky ran his thumb under the gash on Joe’s cheek. The diamond on the doctor’s wedding ring must have caught against his skin when she swung at him. It was a small wound that should have healed in seconds but seemed to refuse.

“You too?” Nicky whispered.

“Me too,” Joe agreed, touching their foreheads together.

“Alright lovebirds,” Booker said after undoing Nile’s restraints, “time to go.”

Joe kissed Nicky quickly before helping him to his feet.

“Booker, aren’t you supposed to have another fifty years?” Nicky teased as he found a roll of bandages to quickly wrap around his bleeding arm--something he hadn’t done in nearly a thousand years.

“I needed the help,” Joe cut in.

“It’s good to see you,” Nile said.

They took the elevator down and left through the front door, walking out alive and together. Cars with flashing lights and sirens could be heard just as they rounded the corner--Nile already on the phone with Copley, explaining that they would need a pretty big cover-up for this one.

The sun was up and people were beginning to go about their day, unaware of what had happened only hours ago. They stopped for coffee and breakfast on their way back to the church.

“So you’re both mortal now?” Nile asked quietly after their waitress had cleared their plates.

“We are,” Nicky said, squeezing Joe’s hand under the table.

“Why now?” she said. “You’re younger than Andy was.”

Joe shrugged. “I’m not sure we’ll ever know why.”

“But I’m glad it happened at the same time,” Nicky said.

“Me too,” Joe kissed him on the cheek. “Now we can grow old together.”

“You’re so romantic it’s disgusting,” Booker said into his coffee cup.

“What are you going to do now?” Nile asked.

“Not sure yet,” Joe shrugged.

They all went quiet as their waitress returned their check and told them to have a nice day.

When they were back on the street, they just stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do. This was different than when it was just Andy. With her, they knew she would fight by their sides until the very end. But Joe and Nicky had each other.

“So this is it, then?” Booker asked, the first one to break their silence.

“This is it,” Nicky agreed. They hugged each other, Nile wiping at tears in the corners of her eyes.

“Take care of each other,” Joe said to them.

“We will,” Nile said.

With that, they parted ways, hoping they would somehow see each other again soon.

“Where would you like to go first?” Joe asked, putting his arm around Nicky as they walked.

“I was thinking Malta,” Nicky grinned.

“Malta?” Joe mused. “You read my mind.”

#the old guard #nicky x joe #nicolo di genova #yusuf al kaysani #netflix #fanfic #writing #my writing

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punkrock-writer · 3 years

Text

Space Cowboy- part 2

Trying Not to Get Shot

Warnings- Swearing, Canon Typical Violence. Din pretends to be mean.

Pairing- Din Djarin x F!OC

A/N- Hi! They finally meet in this chapter. Let me know what y'all think, I'm working on the 3rd chapter now and it will most likely be posted on AO3 first. Thanks for reading!

Prologue Part 1 AO3 Wattpad

"Shit... fuck... fucking shit balls"

Sedona couldn't stop the string of curses that passed through her as she shifted her hands to fists on the metal floor in front of her. She tried to lean forward, taking some of the weight off her knees. Her eyes flew open. Everything that just happened suddenly rushing to her. Taking deep breaths she tries to get her bearings.

She was somewhere much, much colder than Florida. There's was a slight hum in the air, she moved her head up wards. The sight nearly put her into shock.

This place was strangely familiar, it was all metal, with many doors and compartments. Boxes stacked against rounded walls, netting and other things her mind couldn't comprehend quite yet hung from the walls. Warm fluorescent lights lit up the space that she knew far too well.

This was the fucking Razor Crest.

Her mouth hung open as she swiveled her head to look behind her, wet hair hung limply in her face. There was another terrifying sight. The carbonite freezer, she took a large shuddering breath. Shifting her weight further forward, she prepared to move to sit on her ass when-

"Don't move."

That voice. Sedona knew that voice very well, it sent a shiver down her spine.

In that moment she knew, she was fucked.

"Who are you" "Please don't shoot me" They spoke at the same time, her words stumbled out broken in a desperate plea. His were strong and commanding.

"Turn around, slowly." The modulated voice was rough. She never thought it would ever breach her real ears, only used to hearing it through television speakers. She pressed her weight into her hands, swiveling slowly to meet the beskar man himself.

And he was so so much taller than her T.V made him appear. The metal gleamed in the artificial light, broad and threatening. With a blaster trained directly onto her head. She slowly shifted her weight back onto her legs, trying not to wince as the pain gripped her thighs again. Raising her arms above her head she finally looked into the visor, of the fucking Mandalorian.

It really did not help her situation that she knew exactly who was under the helmet.

"Who are you, how did you get on my ship." If she wasn't already hyperventilating out of fear she most likely would've turned into a puddle on the floor at the sound of the rough growl. But her fear instinct was beating down any kind of arousal with a broom stick, matching her pounding heart.

"I- I don't know, I'm not from here... I'm from Earth" she was a stuttering mess, her eyes darted around, she couldn't meet the T shaped visor, "please don't kill me, I don't know how I got here."

There was silence. Her hands shook above her head. The chill running down her spine intensified under his hard stare. She could tell he was observing her closely, sizing her up, making sure she wasn't a threat. Then it hit her. She knew this timeline well, she had re watched both seasons on Disney + multiple times, shamefully.

For the plot of course.

She needed to figure out exactly where they were in the series right now. Her heart raced faster, eyes roamed his armor, trying to guess what had just happened based on the wear and tear. It was the pure silver Beskar, so she knew he had turned in the child, but she wasn't sure if he'd gotten him back yet. Before she could ask, the blaster was suddenly much closer to her head.

"Are you here for the Child." She couldn't stop the breath of relief that whooshed out of her lungs. Thank GOD he has the child. But she still wasn't out of the woods yet, she had to somehow convince the most skeptical single father in the galaxy that he didn't have to kill her.

"No, no, I would protect the child with my life." The way he stiffened made her realize she probably didn't say the right thing. "Wait, please I j-just have to explain, I don't know how I got here but I'm from an alternate universe."

"You have 5 minutes." She understood of course, but having 5 minutes to argue her right to live was going to be difficult.

"I- I was in my hotel and now I'm here," she gulped scrambling for the right words, "I'm from Earth. Where I come from this galaxy is... a f-fictional universe, I-I have information I can give you. I know what's going to happen."

She quickly decided convincing him she could be useful was going to be her best bet. Making deals and trades seemed to be the way of life in the galaxy. She could sense his confusion, the way his shoulders dropped slightly; and if she hadn't been staring directly at the gun, she would've missed how he removed his finger from the trigger. Taking this as a positive she continued.

"I know, about the child, and the the mudhorn, and-and about Navarro. But I'm not a spy or hunter or anything, you-you're a character, and I know your story well." Her she licked her lips and swallowed. "I know your name, Di-"

"Don't!" The blaster was right between her eyes now as he shouted at her. She jumped, raising her arms straighter in the air.

"OKAY! Okay, you can cuff me, please don't freeze me in carbonite. I promise I can help you." She tried to swallow back the lump in her throat and blink away tears that burned her eyes. Rambling was what she resorted to as she lowered her hands in front of her, presenting them for space cuffs.

The Mandalorian sighed, though it sounded more like a growl. He cautiously stepped toward her, lowering his blaster and exchanging it for the cuffs that hung from his belt. They were heavy, and dragged her arms down to her lap. She looked up again to meet the visor. Aiming for where his eyes might be, she put on her best pleading face.

"You can search my bags, I don't have any weapons, and it's all from a different world" he now had the stance of an extremely grumpy dad. He stood wide, having had to step over her bags to put the cuffs on, his hands planted on his hips. With a huff he bent down to pick up her purse that was directly under him. He rifled through it, instantly pulling out 2 things she definitely forgot about.

In his gloved hands he held out her Swiss Army knife, and her pink taser. The way his helmet tilted was accusatory, one hand now holding her purse to his hip.

"Okay...those are weapons, but they're for self defense against earth men. I swear I forgot about them." She put her palms up, avoiding his gaze once again. All she heard was another sigh. She would've smiled if it weren't a life or death situation. She hated that she felt like she knew him, that she felt like she knew what he was thinking.

You don't know him at all you idiot.

"I have earth money, in the brown wallet, it'll show you I'm not from here" she was scrambling for anything that could be considered proof. His hand that held the taser and knife dug pack into the purse. Fishing out the old brown wallet. Dropping her purse to the ground he unzipped it, and observed the inside for a beat longer than she would've liked. He looked back to her, then flipped her wallet over. Her mouth fell open in shock, as an avalanche of bulky coins and rectangles fell out of the folds and into his out stretched hand.

Somehow, her genuine American dollars had turned into mysterious space money. Holding up a finger and trying to looking convincing, she spoke again,"Okay. I don't know how those got there, but you can keep them."

He let out another sigh, the hand holding the 'credits' fell to his belt, shoving them into one of the pouches. He stood straighter, she saw his chest rise to speak, but he never got that far. An erratic beeping sounded from the cockpit, and when she looked up to the ladder she could see the interior flashing red.

"Don't even think about moving" came his rough voice, pointing his blaster at her for emphasis, before turning quickly and climbing the ladder to the cockpit. She swore, just at the very edge before his broad frame crowded the entrance, she could see just a peek of a tiny green head, with some big ass ears.

She let out a soft sigh of her own, and moved to rest her head against the metal crate at her back. Searching her shell-shocked brain for any idea of what was going to happen next. She didn't know if this was before, or after Sorgan. Straining her ears to hear some kind of dialogue, she was surprised when the ship started to rock. Her cuffed hands flew out in front of her, trying to brace herself on the floor.

Something was whizzing past the ship, and it was just barely dodging them. Her heart sank, of course, the other bounty hunter.

"Hand over the child Mando" the voice was quiet, but she recognized it. It was all she could catch before the ship was shot, and she was sent skidding to the side. Finally her busted knees had some relief, but her shoulder that collided with the wall didn't fare well.

Another shot, and she was jolted forward, her hands unable to catch her, she jerked her face to the side at the last second. Unfortunately for Sedona, she was not able to catch Mando's warning. Suddenly she was airborne, and falling fast, as the ship did a tight barrel roll.

"FUCK SHIT" the shout tore threw her throat, she curled into a ball quickly. Her arms flew up to cradle her head, just in time to slam back down to the floor. The wind was knocked out of her chest, her shoulder and hip smacked painfully on the metal. If she wasn't bruised already, she was definitely now. Gasping for breath she tried to adjust herself into a more steady position. Fingers weakly grasped at the corner of a crate for some kind of stability. But the hold was loose and awkward, not really getting anything out of the position her hands were in.

"I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold" her throat filled with cotton at the line. Suddenly she remembered. She curled into herself, bending her arms to rest her hands behind her neck and pulling her knees to her chest. Bracing for impact.

But it was much more than her body could take.

The Razor Crest slammed to a stop. And she was rolling forward. It felt like she was flying again. With eyes open she could see her self careening straight for the metal ladder that lead to the cockpit. And right before her head slammed into the metal base she heard.

"That's my line"

And everything went black.

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janeykath318 · 3 years

Text

Darcy and the Prince (Shieldshock)

“I’m going to be so happy when this is over and we can all get on with our lives,” grumbled Darcy, as she helped her friend into her very beautiful white wedding dress, fit for the princess Jane was about to become. Jane had met the Asgardian Prince Thor while visiting the country on a science quest (as Darcy referred to her research trips) and the two had, against all odds, fallen head over heels in love and became engaged a year later. Despite the meddlings, of Thor’s troublemaking brother Loki, they’d made it to the wedding day and Darcy was playing bridesmaid and generally trying to keep Jane from going full bridezilla.

“Hmm, maybe you’ll be singing a different tune once you’ve met some of Thor’s friends,” Jane suggested, as she was buttoned up. “He knows a lot of attractive, single, people.”

Darcy rolled her eyes and grimaced as she worked on the last few buttons.

“Ugh. NO, JANE. I do not need that drama in my life right now. I’m gonna finish my masters, then go globe-trotting and enjoy being single and free. Men are more trouble than they’re worth.”

“Sometimes I want to wring Ian’s neck for what he did to you,” Jane said vehemently. Darcy’s last boyfriend had turned out to be an utter cheating scum and she’d ended up with a broken heart, hence her general annoyance with men.

“Thor and I got our revenge,” Darcy said, smiling at the memory. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to trust again. Don’t be sad, Janie. I’m super happy to have you and Thor and Eric as buddies. Now, let’s get finished so we can get you down that aisle!”

Before she knew it, Darcy was preceding Jane down the aisle and trying not to start bawling. She was a shameless wedding weeper and knew it would be even worse this time since it was her best friend getting married.

As she blinked rapidly, she took a glance up front where a beaming Thor was standing, along with several other very striking, very well dressed men. She caught the eye of a gorgeous blonde decked out in full prince uniform and he smiled at her, which did funny things to her insides and it took all her self control to not stare at him through the whole ceremony.

Of course, by the time the happy couple kissed and was announced as husband and wife, Darcy could barely see through her tears and just hoped she’d grabbed the right man’s arm to walk her back down the aisle.

“I’m sorry,” she sniffled to her unknown escort. “I always weep an embarrassing amount at weddings and these dresses NEVER have pockets to stash tissues in.”

“Nothing to be sorry for,” a very pleasant voice answered. “I admit, I shed some tears as well. Luckily, I always carry a back up handkerchief. Here.”

A soft cloth was pressed into her hand, and Darcy gratefully accepted it, finally managing to wipe the tears away. Vision cleared, she was able to see her helpful person and let out a gasp as she saw it was the gorgeous blonde princey dude. Up close, it was clear she’d grabbed the arm of Prince Steven, one of the most swooned over royalties to ever grace the papers.

“Wow, thanks, your highness,” she said breathlessly. “I’m afraid this thing is ruined. It looks like my waterproof mascara is not actually waterproof.”

She held up the handkerchief, which was now smeared with black streaks.

“Don’t worry about it,” Prince Steven said, pretty blue eyes crinkling in a smile. “Like I said, I’ve got extra.”

“You’re the best,” Darcy blurted, then turned red. “Ohmm….. I’m gonna go repair the damages before they start the pictures. Will you let Jane and Thor know where I’ve gone? It should only take a few minutes.”

“Sure,” the Prince said kindly. “And please, call me Steve.”

Darcy ventured to look back at him, and saw nothing but genuine friendliness in his kind eyes. She fell a bit in love right there.

“Nice to meet you…...Steve,” she managed, a tad shyly. “I’m Darcy, by the way.”

“Lewis?” he asked, recognition appearing in his expression.

“The very same,” she confirmed. “I take it Thor’s mentioned me?”

“He sure has,” Steve answered. “He calls you his lightning sister and is frequently expounding on your wit, brains, and beauty. I’d have to agree with him. You are stunning.”

Darcy felt herself blush like a tomato.

“You’re one to talk, Prince GQ,” she sassed, to cover up her internal freak out over his compliment. “Be right back!”

With that she picked up her skirts and swished off to the restroom, leaving Steve looking after her with great amusement and interest. Darcy Lewis was a very strikingly lovely woman and the blue dress she was wearing greatly flattered her figure and emphasized her bright blue eyes. Thor had tried to set him up with her before, but Steve had stubbornly refused. Now that he’d met her, He thought he’d been an idiot.

“Are you well, Darcy?” Thor inquired, when she had rejoined the others.

“Yeah. My mascara betrayed me and made me start looking like one of those goth rock stars,” she told him. “That’s the Last time I use THAT brand. Congratulations, by the way.”

She offered up hugs to the happy couple, before they were whisked away for pictures with the official royal photographer.

Spotting Steve, she casually strolled over and watched a bit as he talked to a group of individuals, who must have been his friends, because he looked so much more relaxed and was laughing and smiling in a very jovial manner. He kept his public persona very buttoned up and stiff, so seeing him like this was utterly fascinating and Darcy was becoming more and more attracted every minute. She chatted with Bruce Banner for a little bit, then helped Jane manage her train in between shots.

They were so cute together, it was almost sickening. Thor looked at Jane like she was his whole universe and Jane looked at Thor like he was the only man in existence.

“I want to look at someone the way she looks at him,” Darcy murmured, half to herself, half to the blue and gold clad figure who had joined her.

“Me too,” Steve agreed, sounding very wistful.

“Shouldn’t be that hard for you, dude,” she pointed out.

He chuckled ruefully, blushing a bit.

“I’ve discovered there’s a big difference between starstruck lust, and real love and I haven’t seemed to find the latter yet. Most of them aren’t interested in getting to know the real me at all.”

“That’s sad,” Darcy told him. “You seem like you’d be very interesting, once you get past the whole princely trappings and regal persona. Tell me, Steve, what makes you tick?”

Steve turned to look at her, and she felt like the blue eyes were piercing through her, searching for something. Whatever he saw, it must have eased his mind, because he took a deep breath and started talking.

“For one thing, I’m very passionate about using my position to do as much good as I can, not be just some stuffed shirt figurehead,” he told her. “I’m also very fond of the arts and am in the process of starting an art school for underprivileged kids. I’m hoping they’ll let me teach, because I love to draw and paint.”

“That’s awesome,” Darcy said warmly, giving him an approving nod.

“I also love dogs and help out at the shelters whenever I can.” He continued. “They’re so much more pleasant than dealing with parliament.”

Darcy laughed at the distaste in his voice, but never got a chance to say anything else, because duty called. They shared a few looks across the room, and Steve shamelessly winked at her once when she pretended to strike a diva pose.

They didn’t get close enough to actually talk again until the reception, when he sauntered up to Darcy as she was giggling at a ridiculous archery joke Clint had made.

“Excuse me. Darcy, would you care for a dance?” He asked, holding out a white-gloved hand.

“Y-you’re asking me?” Darcy squeaked.

“I don’t see any other Darcys around here, unless one of you has something to tell me,” Steve said dryly, squinting at Clint, Natasha, and Bruce, all of whom knew him.

“Nope, not it,” Clint said, shaking his head.

“She’d love to,” Nastasha answered, giving Darcy a nudge forward.

“Yeah, I would, “ Darcy managed, taking the offered hand nervously. Steve’s hand closed around hers and she felt a tingle up her spine.

She was in a dreamy daze as the prince expertly guided her around the floor. It was clear his princely education had included good dance technique and he was absolutely courtly about it.

“Now, Darcy, it’s your turn to tell me what makes YOU tick,” he said after a few minutes of silently gazing at her.

“Well, I live fueled by coffee and sarcasm, I majored in political science, and I’m not afraid to use my taser on creeps and jerks,” she told him proudly. “Also, I may have a thing for tall blonde princes.”

“Is that so?” He asked, a dangerously flirty tone in his voice.

“Yup,” she admitted. “Which is a little inconvenient seeing as how I’ve sworn off men.”

“That is too bad,” Steve agreed. “Any chance of possibly changing your mind?”

“I’ll certainly let you try,” she told him, struggling to keep her mind from its fantasies about his magnificent broad shoulders and muscular arms.

“Good,” Steve said, with another one of his stunning smiles. (If he kept doing that, there was no way she would be able to hold out long.)

“You look like you’re already planning your persuasive tactics,” she told him.

“Well, they don’t call me The Prince With A Plan for nothing,” Steve said, twirling Darcy around dramatically. Yeah, she was in SO much trouble.

#shieldshock #royalty AU #steve is a prince #and a swoonworthy one at that #darcy lewis #steve rogers #steve x darcy #i can't help myself

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wwwafflewrites · 4 years

Text

Never Fear (The Winchesters Are Here)

Stars in Your Eyes

"Sam, I don't have a good feeling about this."

Sam waved his flashlight around the porch of the house. "Neither do I. But this is our only chance to gank this shapeshifter before it moves to the next town."

"I just have a gut feeling." You met eyes. In the shadows, they were a deep, compassionate brown.

"You don't have to come if you don't want to."

Well, that wasn’t happening. "Forget it," you huffed, nervously stepping into the front yard.

"I mean it. If you aren’t comfortable, then I can do this myself. I'll understand."

"Don’t be stupid. I’m coming with."

Sam's eyes lingered on you before nodding slowly and turning away, keeping the flashlight pointed at the door as he approached it. When the door handle didn't turn, he fished his pockets for his lock pick.

Meanwhile, you stayed on guard, anxiously looking into the dark street like you expected a jump scare. You hugged yourself as the icy breeze bit through your jacket, saying, "I hate this."

"My offer still stands."

"Your offer still sucks."

He shut up, leaving you some time to ponder about the case.

One who was oblivious to the supernatural might believe the MacDonalds—and, yes, Dean had a blast poking fun at their surname—were just an unfortunate family. It was a small home—or were small homes now, you supposed—containing two divorced parents and their only child.

Knowing that the shapeshifter would strike tonight, you had to split between the two households. Dean took to the father, meanwhile, you and Sam took the mother, knowing that the entire family went for a therapy session.

Dean's little parody, 'Old McDonald had a therapist' played into your head. At most annoying, if a little pitchy.

The break-in, you suspected, was exactly where the shapeshifter was getting all his DNA to shift.

Most people didn't realize the trauma that came with a theft, and you had the misfortune of experiencing it. You once lost trust in the lock of door—lost trust that it would hold or that you could sleep in peace knowing that you were alone. All because a werewolf-witch hybrid decided he wanted your heart, and not in a sexy way. But that was another story.

Thankfully, now, you felt more at ease with the Winchesters—though that didn't mean you couldn't relate with the poor family. Break-ins were terrifying.

And not only had there been one break-in, but two. The shifter had been in both homes, which put an even larger strain on the family's relationship. They quickly turned against each other, throwing accusations and lawsuits to feel more powerful. When really, they were both victims.

It was really an unfortunate situation for everyone involved.

You shook your head. "I can't even imagine what that kid went through. I wouldn't doubt they were trying to get him to take sides. Just imagine your parents doing that to you. I could never."

Sam gave you a funny look. "Can't really imagine. Both of my parents are dead."

Oh, damn. You should have known. "I'm so sorry—"

Sam shrugged. "It's fine—you didn't know. Anyway, it was… years ago." He looked uncomfortable. "Can we focus?"

"Yeah."

Sam jiggled the thing in the lock, and when it clicked, he straightened, slowly pushing the door open, slightly wincing as it creaked. He crept forward, entering the home and shining his flashlight on possible hiding spots in the shadows, wary of anyone that could be inside.

You followed close behind, unwilling to split up like people do in horror movies. Thankfully, Sam didn't mention it. Perhaps he felt the same.

"This is so creepy." The house was giving you the heebie-jeebies. There was a narrow staircase which slowly disappeared into the darkness of the upstairs, and none of the lights would turn on with the flipped switch.

"Huh," Sam said, bouncing the flashlight in his hand. "Guess this will have to do."

"You got a second one? Not a big fan of the dark."

You could nearly see the gears turning in his head. It was no secret you were afraid of the dark. Ever since, well, multiple unpleasant experiences.

You probably needed a therapist more than the MacDonalds—but Dean had rubbed off on you, always talking negatively about those 'shrinks'.

Anyway, what was the point of a therapist when you always had to lie to them? It wasn't like you could ever tell them the whole truth—you'd be sent to an insane asylum.

Even PTSD wasn't worth that.

Sam hummed, patting his pockets. "Nah, Dean took it. We'll have to share." Then, to your surprise, he handed you the flashlight.

You blinked. "Thanks."

He took a lighter from his breast pocket and shrugged. "No problem."

You stepped further into the house, feeling bolder with the flashlight in your hands. The light fell over a cabinet, and with it, two framed photos alongside a small lamp.

Sam was your shadow, peering over your shoulder at the cabinet. He reached a hand, tracing over the dust of the family photo. The eyes of the child were flashing gold.

You stared. And stared some more. "Well, that’s…" you trailed off.

"...yeah," Sam agreed.

"His eyes are..."

"...yeah."

You both briefly took in that information. "So the kid was…"

Sam's mind was on the same track. "I'll call Dean," he said, walking to the kitchen and using his lighter to see the buttons on his flip phone.

You scanned the room, waving the flashlight until it illuminated a thin gooey membrane on the bathroom floor, which trailed out into the hallway. "Oh, god, no," you said. You inched closer, shining the light down on the mound of slimy shapeshifter skin on the tile.

"Sam!" you called, running back to the main of the house where you nearly crashed into him.

"We need to go," you both said simultaneously.

Sam pointed to the foggy window where red and blue lights had replaced the black abyss of the night. "Save your I-told-you-so's. We need to get out of here. Now," Sam said.

As you made it for the backdoor, he grabbed your arm. "No," he pointed to the kitchen. "Window."

The kitchen window was a decent sized opening. He climbed through easily, and you tumbled out after him, terrified to your core.

The lights were almost blinding.

An officer shouted, his silhouette darting out from the shadows. You hauled yourself over the tall wooden fence, just a hair behind Sam, right as the officer caught up.

A gloved hand grabbed your arm.

Like a deer in a bear trap, you fought as they tried to secure your wrist. "Help me, help, help, help," was all you could cry as Sam ran back. You struggled to wrench your hand out of the tight grip; punching at it, but it was like iron. You could see more officers were nearing.

Sam set fire to the officer's hand with his lighter, but it still didn't let go. Smoke rose and you finally stabbed the hand with your silver knife.

The officer shouted and released you.

You and Sam sprinted down the grass to the sidewalk, feet rapid, aiming for the line of trees on the horizon. The forest would provide enough cover for the police to lose sight of you.

It had turned into a footrace.

You tried to match your steps with Sam, but his legs were longer and stronger than yours. You weren't a poor runner by any means, but he surpassed your endurance by a long shot.

So did the officers, apparently, as they were gaining ground on you.

You were just a step behind Sam (who was hardly breaking a sweat), struggling to keep your distance between you and the advancing officers.

Your breath was hot, your lungs already burned, and you lost your pace. Sam noticed and grunted, glancing at you from his peripheral. It was just a little noise, but it brought the strength and energy back into your step.

The trees were a few blocks away. Just a little further, and you could catch your breath in the shadows.

You let out a strangled yell as your nervous system completely frizzed, seizing and crumpling to the ground in a breathless heap.

Sam shouted your name.

You blinked up, dazed and confused. What… what was… was I shot? What...

The officer was ordering you to put your hands behind your back, waving a yellow device at your chest.

A taser. One prong dug into your chest, while the other was deep in your leg.

And the officer was at liberty to light it up again.

You complied, slowly bringing your stiff arms back, so they could cuff them. And from the scuffling to your right, Sam was doing the same.

You could take on monsters any day, but three officers with loaded guns and tasers? It wasn’t a fair fight.

This officer was seemingly much more pleased with himself in comparison to his partners. He lugged you up beside a planted tree, not to be confused with the woods, which was standing ten feet away. How irritating.

His eyes flashed golden, and you tensed under his hold.

"You’re the shapeshifter," you breathed.

"Must you spoil the surprise?" All at once, he raised his gun and killed the other officers with two resounding bangs.

You screamed.

Sam stumbled in his handcuffs, which had him secured to the chain link fence to your left. His eyes were like saucers as the officer arresting him dropped dead at his feet. "What… why… why did you..." he asked, stunned. “You’re the…”

You bit back another scream as the monster put a knife to your throat. The blade’s edge was cold, just enough to be painful against your skin.

Sam's hazel eyes were dark. "What do you want?"

His cuffs were far too low for him to stand, so he had to awkwardly hunker down. It looked uncomfortable.

The maniac had the blade right against your jugular. All it would take is pissing this guy off, and it would be over—you'd be dead.

"You’re going to give me the demon knife," the monster demanded. His hand was dripping blood from where you'd stabbed him.

“How entitled," you said.

The knife pressed harder. “I don’t care what you have to say, girl. Sam Winchester has the demon knife, and I want it.”

"Well, good luck, chuckles." You spat, "Because Sam sure ain’t going to listen to you."

Sam’s brooding, however, didn’t waver.

The shifter trailed the knife along the veins of your neck. "It wouldn’t be hard for me to kill her.”

"He's bluffing," you said, and you fell on the wet dirt, choking back a scream as he lit up the taser.

He leaned in, his breath warm on your ear. "Not bluffing,” the shifter said. "I just have better things to do than pick fights with noble Winchesters." His eyes flashed. "My only exception is the knife. It’s the demon knife, or it's her. You choose."

"Sam…" you warned. " Sam don’t—" The shifter pulled the taser's trigger, and you keeled over into the dirt, trying not to cry. "Sam—" you tried in vain. You were met with another interval of several long, excruciating seconds.

Getting tased felt like a full-body charley horse. Pitchforks instead of prongs. Portable Hell.

Little tremors still ran through your arms. You wanted to tell Sam that you couldn’t let the knife get into the hands of this psycho, but from the look on his face, you could tell he was thinking the same.

It wasn't that the knife mattered to you (because it didn't, you had angel blades that worked just fine against demons) but it was that the knife would matter in the shifter's hands. This guy was clearly unhinged.

You were all for killing demons, but giving any kind of knife to this guy just put a bad feeling in your gut. If there was anything you'd learned today, it was that your gut had a pretty good intuition.

"This can go on..." he sighed. "Though, I'm not sure how long a human heart can take this."

“Enough.” Sam finally said, glaring. "We'll give you the knife."

"Oh, you're not giving me anything. You're going to tell me where it is, and I'm taking it."

You couldn't let Sam tell him where it was. "What do you want it for, anyway?" you snarled. "It can’t be of any use to you. You kill people, not demons."

"Sure, it’s of use to me. Demons are scum on the earth. They kidnapped and tortured my family, and the knife is just what I need to avenge them.”

“So that gives you the right to hurt the MacDonalds? What would you want with them anyway?”

The shifter laughed. “Oh, all that? That was just a case to reel you guys in. I knew you’d follow the little ‘omens’. And then you’d see the skin I left so clumsily by the dumpster, and you'd talk with the parents and find out that... oh, wow, their stories aren’t matching up about each other—how could I have been so messy? Silly, stupid shifter.”

He smiled, resting a hand on your shoulder and squeezing. “You know, it was funny watching you do the whole 'monster test' on the parents. It was cute. You’d never assume it was the child, would you?”

The photo on the cabinet had been from before the parents had divorced, so this guy must have planted himself for at least four months, doing whatever he pleased until the Winchesters got wind of his ‘mistakes’.

“Honestly,” he said. “I couldn’t care less about the MacDonalds; I was just biding my time until the infamous Winchesters showed.”

Sam’s lips were curled in disgust. “All this for a knife?”

You noticed a shadow twitch from behind Sam and in the line of trees. So small a movement that if you blinked, you would have missed it.

The shifter sneered. “Rather hypocritical, coming from someone who would do anything for their family. Would do anything to get the Colt to kill the devil.”

“That’s a lot different—” Sam argued.

Again, you saw something move in the woods.

The monster cried, “No! No, it’s not! These demons—they’re slaying my kin. They’ve ruined everything, and so have you! All you’ve ever—”

You intervened before it got out of hand. “You know what? Fine. I’ll tell you where it is,” you said. “After all, just a knife, right Sam?”

Sam’s expression became one of absolute bewilderment. “What? What are you...”

“Where is it?” The blade dragged down and dug a little harder at your collarbone.

You couldn’t help but smile. “You’ll find it in Hell.”

Dean Winchester took the shot.

The silver bullet hit its target on point. Right through the shifter’s heart, and the monster crumpled, its skin already peeling.

Dean ran over, shotgun slung over his shoulder. "You guys okay?!"

"Yeah. The crazy shifter wanted the demon knife.” Sam nodded. “Lockpick in my left pocket."

"Got one already," Dean said, waving his. "Why didn’t you just give the knife to him? You guys look like he beat the shit out of you." He worked on picking Sam's cuffs.

"I had a bad gut feeling," you grunted. "He would have killed us afterward." You were in a daze. Your muscles were rigid and they smarted like a bitch. Your skin was tingling.

Dean glanced your way, and when he saw your condition, left Sam the lockpick to do the rest himself. "Jesus—hey. Kid? Hey, hey, you gotta stay awake."

"M'fine," you groaned. "Just really sore."

"What happened?" His eyes flitted over you.

"Zzch zzch zzch," you mumbled, imitating the noise. "Taser. Not fun."

"How many times he get ya?"

"Too many."

Dean angrily worked the cuffs off your wrists. "That could have killed you."

You knew he was referring to your time with the werewitch, which left you with a few heart complications. You shrugged. "Didn't."

Sighing, Dean hauled you up. "All this for a gut feeling?"

"He would have actually killed us if we let him get his way," you said, leaning into him. "Could see it in his eyes."

Dean threw your arm over his shoulder. "You gonna recover?"

"Damn right, I will."

"That'a girl."

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