#this is because i stumbled upon artificial fear on there | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

andtheyreonfire · 9 months

Text

ev'ry mem'ry i'll keep - 2

2 - that i could die

ao3 Part 1

Wc - 5481

AN: Happy hug a tiny day! Idk why I'm mentioning this. No one gets hugged in this chapter. Kind of the opposite tbh

Sumire was captured, Amamiya tells Goro, looming over him like the sword of Damocles.

Goro remembers the stadium, the palace, Maruki gazing at them with an expression of pure pity. He grits his teeth, forces himself to stop shaking where he’s cornered in the subway alley. He asks the giant what happened after, how badly they lost.

An ultimatum, Maruki gave them. Spend winter break watching Amamiya’s friends in pure, artificial bliss. Tell him, in a week, how they’d like to see that happiness shatter.

And, of course, Goro's situation. Amamiya recounts Goro going unconscious next to him, some muttered comment from Maruki about “forgetting a wish.” He recounts Maruki disappearing, just as Goro's newfound curse was bestowed upon him. He recounts walking out of Maruki's palace, the tiny form of a serial killer in his hands.

A wish. That was lead to this, hm? Goro having to clutch his ears every time a train enters the station; having to crane his neck back just to see a glimpse of Amamiya's eyes; having to steady himself every time Amamiya moves, because even the slightest shift jostles Goro like an earthquake. Being powerless, completely at the world’s—at Amamiya's mercy. All because of a single, fucking wish.

Amamiya’s voices faces into a dull roar. Goro’s hands ball into fists. If he thinks Goro will sit there and be a good little instrument to their savior complexes, he's dead fucking wrong.

Goro will make sure of that.

Akechi Goro stumbles off Ren’s palm, knees slamming against the wood of his desk.

Ren winces, hand twitching forward him—but, no, he's the reason Akechi flung himself off so quickly, isn’t it? Akechi doesn’t seem to mind the bruises. His tiny arms brace under him, and he blows a microscopic—to Ren, anyways—strand of hair out of his eyes. In one fluid motion, he stands, shuffling back so Ren’s completely in his vision.

Akechi cranes his head back, and Ren schools his face into something resembling indifference. It’s still—a lot, to see Akechi look up at him with visible fear.

Ren hunches down, trying to put himself near Akechi's eye-level. All it succeeds in making the boy jerk back like he’s been burned.

Ren opens his mouth. Nothing slips out. Akechi only looks at him, impossibly tiny eyes narrowed in distrust. Not even a comment about catching flies escapes him. It’s too quiet, without his stream of comments.

Ren sighs. He stands, ignoring the violent flinch Akechi gives at the motion, and walks over to his shelf of nick-nacks. He calls over his shoulder, “What do you want to sleep on?”

A beat passes. Two. Ren looks back towards the desk. When their eyes meet, Akechi calls out, “I don’t care.”

Ren bites his lip. He doesn’t know the right thing to say, or what would stop Akechi from looking at him like Ren’s some kind of predator. And yet, it’s still easier to fil the silence. “In the event this doesn’t wear off, we should probably set something up.”

Akechi's eyes harden. “In the event this doesn’t wear off, sleeping arrangements are the last fucking thing I care about, Joker.”

Ren’s fingers drum against his shelf. “Alright,” he says. “Hang tight for a minute, I'll be right back.”

Ren hears a huff behind him, almost lost to the wind. Akechi's still there when he returns from the bathroom, carrying the fluffiest washcloth LeBlanc owns. It’s just—odd, for Akechi to be stagnant, to do nothing but stare. Ren expected him to be halfway off his desk, sliding down a makeshift rope, by the time he came back.

Akechi only watches him, watches as Ren dumps some bracelet from a shallow box. Watches as he rummages around for a blanket and pads it inside. Watches as he sets it down on the desk, inches away —but what must feel like the length of a room—and folds a makeshift pillow, laying the washcloth flat. For lack of a finisher, Ren gives a pair of jazz hands.

Akechi flinches away from the movement, and jolts like he’s been electrocuted when Ren’s phone—resting on the edge of the desk—vibrates.

“Shit—sorry.” It’s Ryuji, tone weirdly—artificially—fake as he offers Ren an invite to hang out with his track team. Guess Ren’s found a target to try to break through to, but...

“I need to get my friends back,” Ren says. Akechi's gaze snaps up from where he’d been considering the box. “I don’t know if...No, what do you want to do?”

He expects Akechi to put his foot down and take the reins that Ren’s giving him, as he’s always, always done. Akechi only gives a brittle smile, and his voice turns sour. “It’s up to you, is it not? Whatever’s in your best judgement, Joker.”

Ren sits down, not particularly feeling like crouching. His floor’s too hard for him to kneel comfortably on. Maybe it would’ve been easier for Maruki to have shrunk them both. “I want to hear your opinion, too. I'm not the deciding factor in this scenario. We’re still a team.”

“Are we? Are we really?” Akechi backs up further, his steps barely putting a few inches between them. He bares his teeth in a grin. “Excuse me for not seeing the level playing field here, Joker. Or did you forget which one of us is the size of the other’s finger?”

“Just because you’re—“ He gestures at Akechi's reduced scale. The boy’s sneer sharpens into a snarl. Ren can’t find the energy to do more than sigh. “It doesn’t mean your autonomy’s been thrown out the window.”

Ren thinks he can see Akechi's hands fist at his sides—it’s, admittedly, a little hard to tell. Akechi licks his lips. “So, if I wanted to walk out of LeBlanc right now, find my way through the streets of Tokyo on my own, you would let me?”

He winces. “I...don’t know if that would be the best idea—“

Akechi raises a hand, cutting him off with a laugh. “And there you have it. Don’t fucking lie to me next time, Joker. You’re better than that.”

Of all the things to respond to, that’s the easiest. “Why do you keep calling me that?”

Akechi doesn’t answer him, hands moving to untie his scarf. His movements are jerky, at least one eye still trained on Ren. Ren leans back, exhaustion washing over him like a cold shower, and mutters a warning before standing up and leaving for the bathroom to change.

He’s messed up—he knows that. This situation is messed up, but he needs some sleep before he can begin to unravel his thoughts. He’s tired. They both are.

When he comes back, Akechi's already sitting in the makeshift bed, curled into the corner with his back facing the wall. His tiny hands clutch his knees. He flinches, just like he always does, when Ren approaches.

This time, Ren kneels.

“I'm sorry,” he murmurs, “We’ll talk about this more in the morning. I just...” Don’t want to lose you again. “I don’t want to see you hurt.”

Akechi shakes his head. He seems to subconsciously huddle into the fabric, as if shielding himself from the world. Ren’s heart tightens. “What did I tell you about lying to me, Joker?”

His eyes drop to his knees, and that’s the end of that. Ren’s brow crinkles, but he stands, turning off the light and draping the covers over himself. Even with exhaustion clouding his thoughts, he finds it difficult to fall asleep.

For once, the blare of Tokyo is silent, absent of even the sounds of another body. Akechi’s breathing is too tiny for him to hear. Unlike with sleepovers with his friends, he can’t tell if the other party is unconscious. There’s nothing to fill Ren’s ears.

It’s awhile before Ren drifts off, but when as does, he wonders if Akechi’s still capable of dreaming.

Ren pulls himself out of bed to meet a pair of tiny, narrowed eyes, scrutinizing him from his desk.

He blinks. The memories of yesterday flood back to him—trying to get through to Makoto, Akechi finally waking up, watching the boy flinch every time Ren so much as breathed. Akechi didn’t run, which is great, because the thought of him trying to brave Tokyo's foot traffic makes Ren’s stomach churn. Hell, Ren doubts the boy would even end up a smear—

“Are you going to keep staring at me all fucking morning?” Akechi snaps, voice barely reaching Ren’s ears.

Ren reaches for his glasses, if only to prevent Akechi from noticing the next time he spaces out. Although, it’d be...fairer, in a sense, to take his mask off. Akechi never thought of his gaze as intense, right?

He stands up, stretches his back, and caches the perfect glimpse of Akechi flinching away from him, as far back as his make-shift bed would allow. His expression oozes with fear. Ren schools a grimace, and slides his glasses on in one fluid motion.

He crouches next to the desk. Akechi's neck probably hurts from staring up at—god, Ren’s probably the equivalent of a skyscraper to him, isn’t he? He’s so small. Ren hesitates, and Akechi growls, “What?”

Is this real? Ren doesn’t say. Is your reaction? Do you hate me? Ren doesn’t say. I'm sorry. Ren doesn’t say.

Instead, he murmurs, “We need to talk.”

Akechi bears his teeth, like a Pomeranian attempting to be territorial. “About what?”

“A battle plan,” he says, in lieu of something Akechi'd scoff at. “Maruki gave us a week.”

Akechi mutters something under his breath, voice too quiet for Ren to make out anything but a mocking tone. “In case you haven’t noticed, this is a public restaurant. There are people here.”

“I'll deal with them.”

Akechi stares at him. His body is still, but tense, like a bird poised to flight. Ren’s not stupid enough to think he wouldn’t run the second he could.

Akechi was the best at acting, out of all of them. He wonders where his masks have gone, now.

Ren counts the seconds in his head. After 20, Akechi says, “Fine.”

It takes him longer to climb onto his hand, and even longer to slide into the breast pocket of Ren’s shirt.

Ren keeps his steps steady as he descends the stairs, one hand clinging to the rail like a lifeline. He can’t help but watch his feet, wish for the lithe grace of Joker to carry through. He almost runs straight into Morgana, his too-blue, human eyes sparkling. He blinks when their eyes meet.

“Futaba missed you last night,” Morgana purrs. Ren schools a wince. It’s like looking at the mid-way point between a shadow’s human form and transformation. Ren keeps having to slide his eyes off him, wanting to look but struck by a visceral wrongness every time he does.

And yet—this was still his wish. Tall; broad; handsome; with opposable thumbs, and a rich baritone instead of a meow. To stand on eye-level with the rest of the Thieves, to be every bit the human they didn’t care he wasn’t.

He’ll buy Morgana so much fatty tuna once this is over.

But, first— “I think Haru's been missing your presence,” Ren says.

The-thing-that’s-kind-of-Morgana perks up. “Oh?”

“Yeah. You were the first one she knew. I know she’s been spending a lot of time with her dad—“ Ren steps forward to hide the violent flinch from his pocket. “—But she probably misses you, too.”

“Yeah, you’re right! I should hang out with her. Ren, you should—“

“What about a sleepover?” Ren searches for a mask. Joker? No. Wingman? Uh. Helpful, logical friend, who only wants what’s best for his other friends? It’s something. “Winter break’s almost over. Why don’t you take the week to stay at her place?”

“I mean,” Morgana responds, uncharacteristically hesitant, ”I wouldn’t want to impose...”

“I think she liked your help with gardening more than she liked mine.” He yawns, stretches, switches masks as he assesses the former cat before him. “‘Sides, it’s winter break, there's so much time. A guy needs his privacy, y’know?”

“Gross.” Morgana wrinkles his nose, but it seems to do the job. “Alright. I'll talk to her about it. No funny business while I’m gone, lil’ bro, alright?”

Ren stifles another grimace. “Aye, aye.”

Morgana pads out, the door jingling behind him. Soiro, thankfully, is an easier job. All it takes is putting on an apron, a wistful mention of Futaba and her mother, before he’s out the door, his keys in Ren’s hand.

There’s no customers. Ren flicks off the stove, the TV, and the kettle. Subconsciously, his free hand drifts to his pocket, over the tiny, curled form against his chest, moving—

Moving?

Moving. Vibrating, really, against his fingers. It’s a small action, repetitive, existing even as Akechi stays still. It gains in intensity as Ren’s hand stays.

Akechi’s trembling.

Ren snaps his hand away like it’s been burned.

After flipping the sign to ‘closed’, shuttering the blinds, and locking the door, Ren bites his lip. His hand hovers over the pocket. He’d let Akechi climb out on his own—but, with what? It’s faster to bite the bullet. Ren approaches the counter.

“Brace yourself,” he mutters, before plunging in and sliding his fingers around Akechi's form. Akechi goes rigid in his grasp.

Slowly, he sets him down on the counter. He tries to put Akechi’s feet under him, but he stumbles to his knees the second Ren’s hand leaves. Ren winces, hand twitching forward to help him up, but stops when Akechi shoots him a withering glare.

He takes his own seat, adjacent to Akechi, leaving him the long, wooden expanse of nowhere to run.

“I'm not going to hurt you.” Ren exhales through his nose. He’s starting this, if Akechi's unwavering glower is any indicator. “I just want to fix this, please.”

A beat. Two. Akechi's glare burns more intense. Eventually, he grounds out, “Why should I believe you?”

”We’re trapped in this together. You’re the only ally I have right now. I—“ Ren’s brow furrows. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Akechi scoffs a laugh. “Try again. Why the fuck should I believe you?”

Ren’s fingers clench around his seat. He stuffs his building frustration in the same place he shoves his doubts on the front line, leading a group of high schoolers to the one of the most dangerous jobs in the world. “I want to help you.”

“Of course you do.”

Ren waits for more. Akechi picks at the skin around his nails, his glare never leaving Ren. When his gaze slides towards the near-microscopic digits, they still. Ren feels like he’s having this conversation halfway underwater, “What does that mean?”

Akechi stares at him in disbelief. “Are you really too much of a coward to even admit it?”

Going a million miles at once, and absolutely nowhere. “Goro, please.”

“Don’t fucking—! Maruki granted everyone’s pipe-dreams.” He grounds the words out, as if speaking to a toddler. “He could defy reality, the very laws of nature to do so. Everyone’s dreams, Joker.”

Ren finally picks up the damn cue. His stomach drops.

He rasps, “Are you saying my wish was to shrink you?”

“Don’t deny you wouldn’t like it.” Akechi prowls forward, eyes absolutely livid. His four-inch tall form seems to shake with either anger or fear—no, both. “Me, tiny and helpless in the palm of your hand. You could do anything you wanted. No one’s watching us, correct? No one cares, if you keep me as a pet, or take out the trash, or use me as some kind of—“

“Akechi.” Ren interrupts him, stomach churning. “Do you really think so little of me?”

Akechi looks away, silent. His body trembles as it did in Ren’s pocket.

He takes in the terrified, livid form in front of him, starting to curl in on himself. Before Ren can think twice, he stands up—ignoring Akechi's flinch—and runs up the stairs.

He returns with a tiny, thin piece of metal. One end wicked-sharp, the other dull and smooth. It's about half the length of Ren’s thumb. He was lucky to find it, almost tempted to use a shard of glass before he looked in his forgotten pile of infiltration-tool failures. He holds it out to Akechi, who stares at it with unrestrained suspicion.

“If you ride on my shoulder, under my collar,” Ren blurts out, “You’ll have the perfect access to my vital veins. You’ll be hidden, too.”

Akechi continues to stare.

“If you feel like I'm about to do something to you, take this and kill me before I can get the chance.”

It takes 10 seconds, this time, before Akechi wraps his hands around the makeshift weapon. He scurries back the second he’s done, away from Ren’s hand. He strains to hear Akechi's mutter. “I'd hardly be able to kill you without getting killed, myself.”

Ren forces a grin. “Well, I don’t think Iwai sells tiny guns. You can’t shoot me in the head, again. You’ll have to do it the old-fashioned way.”

Akechi looks away, running his hands over the piece of metal. Ren begins, “Akechi, I don’t know how to convince you that this isn’t my wish. I just want to figure out what’s going on and fix it—But, to do that, I'll need your help. You’re my only ally. You’re smarter than me, your deduction skills are unparalleled, and you know the Metaverse far better than I do. You were a star detective. I need you.”

“My work was largely fabricated,” Akechi points out. He shines a little at the praise, either way.

“The second this is over, we never have to see each other again. I don’t want you to live like this.” Ren hunches down, keeping his distance from Akechi, but contorting his body so he's eye level. “Can you help me?”

Akechi runs his fingers over the point of the weapon. He stares at it, at his hands, at Ren.

His gaze hardens. He holds the weapon at his side, and nods. “Fine. deal.”

Ren bites back a grin, and the inane, instinctual urge to hold out his hand to shake.

Ren had just finished talking with Makoto when Akechi awoke, he tells him. Akechi hesitantly perches on his shoulder as he leaves, Ryuji decided as their next target. Ren removes his scarf so he has room to hide under his collar. He prays Akechi doesn’t decide to stab him on a whim, and sets off.

They do Ann next, then Morgana, then Yusuke.

Morgana takes a little more convincing, both for his memories to shine through, and to convince him to stay at Haru’s for as long as possible. After Yusuke, he treats Goro and him to oden. He bought Goro his own, separate bowl, and offered to help him, so he didn’t have to struggle with picking up his chopsticks. Goro looked sick at the idea. It wasn’t until Ren turned away from him, keeping his eyes trained on his phone, that he heard the boy begin to eat.

Reluctantly, Akechi teaches him how to comb government databases. Ren’s learned a few tricks from Futaba, which means he doesn’t need to go breaking into Akechi’s apartment just to access his computer. The police database is theirs, too. He manages to find Maruki’s past, his research, and his failings. Most of which he already knew, but Akechi’s questions leave Ren with a half-dozen floating around in his own head.

They also discover that, by all accounts, Okumura and Wakaba are completely alive. This and then some is why they save the conversation with their children until the end.

Wakaba is every bit the person Ren imagined her as, and Goro shudders against Ren’s neck every time she speaks. Akechi clams up when their group walks away, remaining silent and stiff for the rest of the night. It hurts, to see Futaba fighting against giving up her own happiness, to have to move on once again. Ren can’t help but feel sympathy for Wakaba’s murderer, having to process the blood re-appearing on his hands.

Today’s target was their last: Haru.

Ren thinks it went well.

Ren’s greatest skill is lying to himself, and it certainly hasn’t failed him yet.

Ren winces as Goro, again, slides off his hand like he’s been burned.

But it’s—progress, in a way, how Goro doesn’t immediately back himself into a corner. It might be their negotiation, or the aftermath of the week they’ve spent together, or a sign that Goro's becoming less terrified.

Goro flinches when Ren sits at his desk, his hands spasming from where they were untying his scarf, and that hope is thrown out the window and right in front the oncoming train that is this situation.

Ren turns away. It feels weird to talk about Haru, but even stranger to deflect and pretend that he didn’t just show a murderer the still-breathing corpse of their victim—Hey, Ryuji isn’t here, someone’s gotta be blunt. For lack of anything to distract himself, Ren drums his fingers against the wood of his desk.

He realizes his mistake when he looks back to see Goro frozen, watching Ren’s fingers—inches away from him—like they’re made of the same dynamite in a Showtime attack.

Ren pauses. “Sorry. I—forgot you’re still getting used to things.”

Goro’s face settles into a sneer. “Oh, forgive me for not using the adjustment period that you’ve so graciously blessed me with.”

Ren blinks. Okay—he deserves that. He leans in, only to freeze when Goro backs up a few steps. Ren sighs, and asks, voice low, “What can I do to make things easier?”

Goro’s hands tighten from where they’re wrapped around his sides. “Stay at least 50 yards away from me—you’re awfully good at distance, aren’t you, Joker?”

Ren takes a breath. Don’t rise to his bullshit—it’d be a distraction, at least, to ask him what the hell he meant by that, but no shut up—and keep calm. Ren wills his voice to stay level. “I'm sorry, you’re stuck with me until we fix this. Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable, at least?”

Goro snarls up at him, “For as self-centered as you are, I would’ve thought you’d take the goddamn bait.”

Ren’s fists clench in his lap. “What bait?”

Goro throws his arms up. If he were normal-sized, the action might’ve been wild enough to clock Ren in the face. Ren can see the slightest tremble in his hands. “No, you know what? Use your fucking brain, Joker. Stop lying to me.”

Ren sighs, taking the silence Goro offers him as the smaller boy picks at his nails. He’s tired—something about the artificial sunlight, about seeing his friends so happy, of facing a terrified face every time he checks his shoulder is getting to him—

And that’s it, isn’t it? This isn’t about their day, or Okumura, or even Maruki. Goro spat out the word bait like it was—

Personal.

Ren looks at Goro, at a frame barely the size of his finger, and shoves away his frustration to murmur, “I'm not going to take advantage of this, Akechi.”

Goro cranes his head higher, fists clenching at his sides. He seems to grasp at whatever regal composure remains. “Do you honestly expect me to believe that?”

“Akechi—“

“No, tell me exactly what’s stopping you.” His eyes are burning, body tensed, taut like a drawn bow. It’s painfully easy to imagine how he would snap the second Ren tries to approach. “I don’t want to play this game anymore, Joker. Stop lying to me.”

Ren stays still, makes his voice level, keeps his hands secured in his lap. “I'm not lying to you. I'm benefitting from this as much as you are.”

“Bullshit!” Goro snarls, stumbling back a few steps. There’s the black mask, the traces of Loki hovering behind him. “You know what this is, don’t you? Don’t say things like that with a straight fucking face! You know how this world works as much as I. Tell me—“

Goro unsheathes his weapon, pointing the tiny piece of metal at Ren. The fire in his eyes is on full display, the heat of a distant supernova. He growls more than speaks, “Tell me what you fucking want from me!”

He doesn’t even fill a fraction of Ren’s desk.

“I want you to co-operate with me.” Ren steels his voice. Maybe that’ll make things easier, for one of them. He’s so tired. “I've said this already. I want to fix things, with you. I don’t want to see you—I don’t know, dead in a ditch somewhere.”

“Why me?” His teeth are still bared, as if they were even capable of breaking flesh. With how violently his makeshift weapon shakes in his grip, he doesn’t think that would fare any better. “After all the things I've done to you, why the hell would you waste a single tear over my well-being?”

“Because I don’t want you to go through that,” Ren pleads.

“Aren’t you a harbinger of justice?” He’s grasping at straws, even if he doesn’t realize it. The best actor out of all of them, but hardly the most composed. “Believer in a grand world where everyone gets their just desserts? You’re a noble Phantom thief, a hero. I—I don’t see how you could possibly ignore the monster before y—“

Ren closes his eyes, bites the bullet, and cuts Goro off with a soft, “I wanted to kill Kamoshida.”

Goro makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat, the disposal of whatever he was going to say. Ren creaks an eye open to see him staring back with tiny, wide eyes. He doesn’t open his mouth, so Ren continues, “He was a piece of shit. He hurt Ryuji, Ann, Shiho. We found Morgana trapped in the dungeon of his palace. He made people’s lives a living hell.”

Ren smiles, an echo of the mask he wore when he awoken Arsène. He mutters, staring at nothing, “I wanted to kill him.

“But it wasn’t my choice to make, so we changed his heart. Now, thanks to us, he’ll suffer for the rest of his life under the weight of his guilt. Every day he’ll wake up in agony and every night his deeds will haunt him until he falls asleep. Heroic, isn’t it?”

Goro doesn’t interject, so Ren continues. “You never asked me if I cared. You asked if I thought we were just, and I said yes. You never defined your terms.”

Ren takes a breath. Something wiggles past the depths of his heart, slips past his lips. “I never said I didn’t want our targets to suffer.”

A beat passes. Two. Goro asks, voice barely drifting to Ren’s ears, “How does that make you any better than me, in your eyes?”

Ren shakes his head. “It doesn’t.” A brittle smiles splits his lips. “There was just—nothing stopping you, from pulling the trigger. I got lucky.”

“...And why didn’t you? Pull it, I mean.” Goro shifts, interest replacing the heat in his eyes. If he wasn’t so obviously apprehensive, he might’ve taken a step closer. “When it came down to it, why didn’t you finish the job? Kamoshida was yours.”

“It wasn’t my choice to make.”

Ren slides off his chair and shifts into a crouch, back against his desk and head resting on the surface. He looks straight up at his ceiling, deciding to ignore Goro's presence beside him. He can’t see Goro's tiny, fearful eyes like this. It's an adequate bonus.

Ren continues, “Ann was the deciding factor, but everyone was on board with just changing his heart. I’m their leader, not their dictator. You’re the first person I've met who wanted—planned for the person who wronged you to die.”

Ren can hear the mirth in Akechi's voice, even with how quiet it is. “You’ve met him. I don’t think I was entirely in the wrong.”

“No,” Ren whispers. “You weren’t.”

It’s painfully calm, in Maruki's reality. Any other time, the streets would be filled with the blaring of horns, with shouting, with the rush and chaos of Tokyo nighttime. There’s nothing to fill the air between them but the hum of Ren’s heater. It’s far from enough to drown out Ren’s thoughts.

When Goro speaks, his voice is closer, as if he decided to take a few steps forward to the boy twenty times his size. “So, underneath that honest, pure-hearted exterior, you’re just as rotten as me. Is that right?”

“Did you expect me to be better?” Ren asks.

Goro huffs a mirthless laugh. He shuffles, and a flash of tan appears at the corner of Ren’s vision. “I guess not. So, then, do you think I deserve to suffer as much as the people I've wronged?”

Ren closes his eyes. Honesty’s worked so far, so he snaps the bullet between his teeth. “In my opinion, you deserve to suffer far more. More than I could give you, whether you were willing or not.”

There’s the faint, small sound of shoes against wood. Ren allows Goro a second to catch his balance, before he asks, “Were you willing, Akechi?”

Goro's voice is steel. He’s lived with his crimes longer than Ren’s even been aware of them. He knows his answer. “I was.”

“And there you have it.” Ren opens his eyes, but keeps them trained on the ceiling. “Whatever your circumstance, it doesn’t change what you’ve done.”

Even after everything, the air is, somehow, more bearable. Ren resists the urge to jolt when Goro walks completely into his line of vision. He asks, a tiny eyebrow raised, “So, why aren’t we having a conversation with me in a jar? Why aren’t I a smear on the pavement, if my just desserts are long overdue?”

“Because, that’s...that’s not for me to decide. That’s Haru's decision, and Futaba's, and yours’.” Ren gives a strained smile. “We only ever responded to explicit requests, y’know.”

Hesitantly, Goro steps forward. “Even so, there’s...no one here but us. No one’s been present to stop you since I shrunk.”

“You’re right.”

When Ren doesn’t continue, Goro huffs a laugh. “So?”

Ren takes a breath. Slowly, he swings his gaze over to Akechi. The boys stands—more than close enough to touch. It’s...

It’s the face of when Goro was recognized on their first meeting. It’s the face of Futaba as she stares into a crowd, of Ryuji after their confrontation with the track team, of Haru every time she recalled how her company’s treated her. It’s the face of a kid—of a boy that didn’t deserve anything that happened to him—staring into the darkness of their closet and trying to be brave.

“You killed dozens. You hurt countless individuals. You hurt my friends, but...” Ren’s eyes crinkle. “You were my friend, too. If things had been different, you could’ve been one of us. The game was rigged from the start.”

Goro's hands flex at his sides, minuscule skin twitching. Eventually, he rasps, “I tried to kill you, too.”

Ren can feel the bags under his eyes deepen. He tilts his head up towards the ceiling. “Yeah. You did. So listen to me when I say I don’t want to see you hurt, alright?”

Ren knows he is fucked up. He can’t put a name to all the complexes he’s seen this year, but he knows one of them is dampening his feelings towards Goro. Ren’s tired, he’s a dead man walking, but the idea of doing anything to the tiny, fragile form of the boy who killed him sends nausea shooting up his throat.

Goro gives something that could be a nod—it’s hard to tell, with him still barely in the corner of his vision. Ren doesn’t hear him move until a head of chestnut-brown hair appears next to him, and a tiny, warm weight rests against his temple.

Is he—sitting against Ren? He doesn’t dare shift to check, not when Goro's slowly relaxing against him, not when it’s the closest he’s willingly, freely been since he woke up in Ren’s palms.

They sit there, while Ren tries to get his heart rate back under control. Goro murmurs, the sound almost at normal-sized volume with how close he is. “Nothing about this is fair.”

“‘Course not,” Ren breathes, “What better pawns to play the game than us, huh?”

Goro snorts. He’s fully relaxed against the side of Ren’s head. After a beat, he asks, “You said you wanted to know what you could do to, ah, accommodate me, Amamiya?”

Ren whispers, “Yeah?”

“I—“ He struggles to imagine Goro's face crumpling, of him losing his composure. After a moment, that tiny voice gains its steel. Ren lets the ghost of a smile split his face. “If you truly don’t want to hurt me, there are a few things you could keep in mind...”

#g/t #giant/tiny #g/t writing #g/t fanfiction #persona 5 g/t #p5 g/t #gtjuly2023 #g/t july 2023 #this was supposed to be for day 14 bc i was gonna have a line about goro refusing to be an instrument for ren's savior complex #and i completely forgot to put said line in there #if i feel like it i might add it in but i really don't so y'know #my writing #edit: i added the line. yippee

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site-19--staffblog · 4 days

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Hi! If you're reading this that means you've stumbled upon the SCP Foundations only Tumblr account! Well at least to my knowledge, incase your behind the veil yes this is made from actual foundation employees with permission from the 05's themselves,,, well not entirely but they said something similar enough

Well, I should probably get this Intro post started, here we go!

First off

Who are we?

Were the SCP foundation! At least to people behind the veil but you probably aren't behind it so for you the foundation is the men in black the Illuminati a secret government agency although we're not here to make your life harder or do weird shit to make a new world order, no we're here to protect you yes you reading this whoever you are whatever you do, you remember fairy tales told to you as a child right? Fantasy with wizards and princesses stuck in high towers? Elf's and fairy's in mystical woodlands? Well there real practically all of it but it isn't given the same child-friendly treatment because most things that are behind the veil want to kill you, so we shield humanity from them by putting them in overly complicated boxes so they (hopefully) never see the light of day again

But why?

Good question! Answer is most could probably kill all of us 3x over next question

Whats the veil?

Merraim-Websters definition

I kid the veil is what we call what separates your normal world from our fucked up fantasy keeping the normal citizen from learning about the soul-sucking demon that if escaped could murder half of China in a day it's what makes sure that modern society can exist without the fear of being annihilated down to your atoms at least in stable countries, it's also what allows us to do our jobs because sometimes for the greater good great evils need to be committed

If it's so important why are you throwing it away?

Another great question! ,,, we don't know at least no one at site-19 we've asked around at other sites but we still got no answers theories are welcome though! But if I'm being honest were all unnerved

List of site-19 staff participating!

Mik- Me! I'm the one passing messages from other groups behind the veil to where they need to go, along with messages sent to site-19 I also act as a diplomant from time to time

Misha- our resident historian for everything from behind the veil to in front of it she's usually helping tracking down the history of every object that comes through here, I don't know how she does it my bets on magic

Basia- one of our botanists, usually helping people with the health of their poor little cactus plants but when he does have a job to do by God does he do it he'd be able to get you an exact care plan for any anomalous plant you can think of horrible with people though I have to question why they signed up for this

Numbers- they handle most of the backend server stuff with Alexandria I don't know much about them I didn't even know they had a name till they signed up I don't interact with them alot if I do it usually means something has gone to shit with internal servers, so no time for chatting

Alexandria- Our very own artificial intelligence! Or officially an A.I.C. but same thing, she's what helps us keep our site Running! Also the sweetest person to talk with if you've got a question with the foundation or our site in general she's the one to ask! Although I've been told she's had quite the rocky history,,,

For the guys behind the veil

Please act normal don't send a cogitohazzard to some poor unsuspecting soul best foot forward and all that

Or I will sic 682 on you

I know you guys are aware of it, I won't hesitate

That's all!

I'll add more when necessary but please send us some asks!

Ooc))

If you think there's a way to improve this please let me know! This is my first time making an entire AU))

#pinned post #intro post #scp #scp rp blog #near a fallen veil #site-19 #in character #new blog!

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myprofessormadememakethis · 4 months

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Fear and Edgar Allen Poe

“The Plantation,” 1825

Edgar Allen Poe’s work confuses me for the most part. The senseless acts of murder and horror failed to resonate until I stumbled upon an article about white fear and immediately thought of The Fall of the House of Usher. The whole story follows this family that has destroyed itself from the inside out, surrounded by opulence. If I take this situation from outside the confines of the story, I think of how wealth is acquired, specifically in America, and wonder how the Ushers came into their wealth. The answer is most likely exploitation.

This is why I find the configuration of this story interesting. Rodrick, a man, buries his sister, a woman and listens to her movements as she attempts, and eventually succeeds, to escape her tomb. Additionally, Madeline has no agency. She’s Rodrick’s twin sister and they’re married. Their fates seem to be intrinsically tied, even dying at the same time as him. Her identity is wrapped up in his, and throughout the story, she is trapped in a tomb her brother placed her in. Then, Rodrick desperately ignores the evidence that she’s alive instead of simply freeing her from the place he buried her. I say all of this to say that Madeline is in a fight for liberation, and while this particular story is about two white people, I found this dynamic and this article helped me recontextualize the meaning of fear in this story.

White fear often allows for discrimination against Black people. This manifests when white people call the police on Black people in any given space or exact violence on Black people themselves, artificially enforcing segregation. This happens because “the presence of a black person in a shared, white-dominated space becomes a threatening symbol of black advancement at the expense of whites.” It’s a reminder of an inner fear that we see play out in a lot of American fiction. The people they have subjugated will come take their revenge, but just like Madeline ended the story merely wanting to hold her brother not harm him, the violence anticipated by many in a world of true racial equality is pure projection.

Maybe Rodrick was afraid Madeline would kill him because he would have done so if it were him.

- Ysabella Porche

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wisteria-alovesxxcide · 2 years

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My two ideas:

Idea 1: taking the concepts and some of the themes and planting them in a different place/time

Specifically thinking of a stereotypical 1950s America, the kind that didn't exist in reality. It's an artificially created children's paradise gone very very wrong. There are several adults but they are at best lenient and unobservant, and at worst, abusive in as many ways as you can think. They are oblivious to the world the children make, or dismiss it as harmless fun.

Possible southern gothic themes, with it being specifically placed somewhere in the southern part of America. This brings up some uncomfortable possibilities, because you can't exactly pretend racism wasn't a thing, but I'm willing to face it. The children won't be any better than the adults on the subject, I'll say that much.

On that note, religious themes. The 50s were a time where everyone clung to Christianity as a way of being better than the USSR, and not being Christian, not going to church, was unthinkable to most people. Perhaps the adults don't really care about what the children do so long as they put on the right facade and go to church. Troublemakers of any stripe are punished for the sake of their souls, but the children teach each other how to fool the adults so they can go back to what's really important.

'Visual' aesthetics are 50s children's entertainment and the stereotypical 50s. America, but also biblical things - rainbows and arks, whales, crosses and donkeys, etc

Idea 2: Set in London during WW2

The protagonist is a runaway, and stumbles upon the children's society by accident.

I feel the subway is important somehow.

An older man is involved. He may be a ghost, he may be Death, he may be just a man. He at least seems to be a friend to the protagonist but I'm not sure of the motive. But I think if there is a 'prince/ss', this man is the king.

I'm biased. I want the protagonist to be crossdressing as a boy. Even before I knew I was trans I liked it and I think it would be nice to go back to. For some reason the name Robin comes to mind?

Victory gardens. Roses traded for carrots and tomatoes. Dirty kids with stained clothing pulling weeds and watering plants. Treated with pride, a chore they despise, or a punishment?

Fear of going outside, to the point it's taboo. What happens when things aren't fully explained to children?

A fantasy world made by creative young minds. Fairy tales, Robin Hood, the knights of the round table, folk tales and music, etc.

Are the children homeless? Where are the adults? What have they been told? What are they allowed to know? What do they want to know?

A few other things:

I'm currently working my way through a playthrough of the game because it's been a while, things will change as I go through it and think about things

I'm leaning to the second but I might write them both eventually

If the protagonist has an animal companion, it'll be a cat, because I'm biased.

Wisteria was a personal choice on my end, because it's a plant I grew up with. While the symbolism it has in the Asian countries it comes from is positive, anywhere else in the world it can be considered an invasive plant, suffocating and strangling other, native plants with its vines. The flowers are sweetly scented, though, and it can live for hundreds of years if everything goes right.

Written on my phone, forgive any weird typos. I'll put this under a cut when I get on my laptop. Feel free to message me somehow if you wanna discuss this!

#wip info

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rockingthegraveyard · 3 years

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You know what????? My spotify is in a desperate need of a Zelda playlist.

#there are so many good renditions of various Zelda songs #and i will find them all #this is because i stumbled upon artificial fear on there #and i use to listen to their cover of the twinrova theme on youtube back in the day

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multi-maker · 3 years

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can i request albedo x reader for the event...? like reader almost destroying mondstadt 🤩 - albedo anon

uno reverse.

summary. you are a homoculus created by gold, and the chief alchemist of mondstadt. albedo is a wandering artist who wants to find a muse

pairing. chief alchemist! reader x wanderer! albedo.

notes. violence warning! morally ambiguous albedo! not beta read! also i loved writing this omg i’m such a sucker for your loved one turning into someone you need to beat ~

mondstadt is burning.

the city of freedom is aflame, the billowing columns of fire rising in the once bright sky. there are cries and screams for salvation, orders of the acting grandmaster ringing in the stifling air, forming a hellish symphony in the city of bards.

and in the middle of it all is the person who was once revered as the chief alchemist of the knights of favonius.

wings of black sprouted from their back, purple veins signifying durin’s corruption crawling up to an anguished face. there is hopelessness and hope at the same time in their eyes, the sword they found at dragonspine pulsing in their hands.

“albedo …”

the name they utter is spoken with reverence and fear at the same time. stumbling as destruction raged around them, the genius alchemist of mondstadt reaches towards the wandering artist with trembling hands.

albedo is taken a back, denial burning in his veins. he remembers a promise they exchanged before, months ago under the starry sky with only celestia to judge them for their sins.

“albedo,” they say his name softly and gently, eyes that resembled the marks of the alchemy table they masterfully wielded gleaming in the night sky.

albedo’s hands itches for his sketchpad. he wants to etch their face, their eyes, their nose and their lips. he wants to paint them so beautifully with splashes of colora decorating the once blank canvas.

“can you promise me something?” they ask him, cold hands grasping his. he remembers their confession — i’m not a human, they admitted before. a creation of the highest level of alchemy. created, not born. artificial, not real.

yet, albedo finds them more beautiful than any human he has encountered.

“if i ever lose control, destrot mondstadt, destroy everything,” the words they speak make his skin crawl. he takes in what they said, eyebrows softly furrowing upon realizing what they imply.

“can i rely on you to stop me?”

there is no definite answer. he does not respond, and only interlocks his human hands with their artificial one.

albedo’s answer is needed right now — where the city of freedom needed salvation and an answer. perhaps in another world, albedo could be their salvation. where he hasn’t fallen deeply inlove with the person destroying their home.

but this isn’t this world — and so, albedo takes their outstretched hands, and smiles.

he doesn’t stand in their way.

he wanted a muse. that was his sole goal in this journey. and he found the perfect one. a being born from chalk, a homoculus who was created to destroy yet could live amongst humans.

there was no way he was going to let them slip from his awaiting hands.

albedo smiles, and leans his forehead against their own. durin’s corruption bleeds into his skin, changing his veins into purple and his smile turning a slight more manic.

“you cannot rely on me to stop you, my beloved muse.” his breath softly fans their face, feeling their eyelashes flutter against his skin.

“because i will only stand and watch as you destroy everything and paint it in the canvas of my sketchbook.”

#💫 dawn #genshin impact #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact albedo #genshin albedo #albedo #genshin impact albedo x reader #genshin albedo x reader #albedo x reader #(🏷) uno reverse event #genshin impact x reader

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mythicandco · 3 years

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After the grimwalker thing belos sees rascal and demands hunter to hand it over hunter refuses and fights him off and tries to escape but is tired and weak and gets captured

My brother insisted on helping so he actually wrote a lot of this. Anyways, here it is:

Hunter whirled around, Rascal turning into a staff in his hands. Belos was wearing a mask - he couldn’t see the emperor’s face, but he could all too easily imagine the confusion and surprise in his uncle’s expression.

The boy winced and gripped the staff more firmly, taking a step away. “I won’t let you hurt them.”

He could feel Belos’ stare through the eye holes of his mask, and could almost see his faintly-glowing blue eyes. “Where did you-“ The emperor lurched forward suddenly with a hiss of pain. Hunter heard him mutter a swear word. It took every ounce of determination Hunter had not to move.

Belos looked up again, his eyes narrowed. Black goo dripped from the holes in his mask. “Where did you get that palisman.” He stated it as though it was an order, not a question.

“They flew in my window,” Hunter replied before he could stop himself. “You… recognize them, don’t you?” He took another step back.

The emperor turned away, reaching up to adjust his mask. “Just…” he clenched his fist. “Give me the palisman.”

“NO!” Hunter backed up even more, pulling the staff close to his chest. Anger became shock which became pure terror. No one defied the emperor. What was he doing?

Hunter stared up at Belos, who was suddenly much taller and radiating anger in practically tangible waves. “What was that? I must have misheard you.”

“N-no,” Hunter stammered. Why did he say that? What was wrong with him?? “I s-said n-no.”

“No?” Belos’ voice was dead calm. “Really? I gave you an order, Hunter.”

The boy shook his head. “I-I can’t let you hurt Rascal.” He couldn’t take his eyes off of the black liquid dripping down the emperor’s mask. “I’m not giving them to you.”

A strange sensation rippled across his arm and suddenly pain exploded through his body. He let out a sharp cry of agony and fell to his knees. Hunter forced himself to open his eyes to survey the damage - a fresh wound, with bright scarlet blood pouring out of it, had appeared on his arm.

Belos retracted his arm and it reformed into a hand. “I’ll give you one more chance. Give me the palisman. Now.”

Despite tears of pain running down his face, Hunter managed to shake his head.

“Very well, then.” The emperor distorted and melted in a small flash of red-tinted magic. He reappeared inches from Hunter’s face, still faintly glowing with the artificial spell’s residue. “I’ll have to take it.”

Before he could make another move, Hunter closed his eyes tightly and yelled “NOW!”

He and Rascal disappeared in a small explosion of golden light, causing the emperor to stumble backwards. Belos chuckled.

“Oh, so that’s the game you’re playing, brother.”

Hunter and his palisman rematerialized just outside the portal room. Apparently his luck hadn’t completely run out, because there was no one in the hallway so see him holding a bright red cardinal staff, or sporting a blood-drenched cloak. Oh, right. His arm. Hunter clutched it gently and winced as his hand came back stained with blood.

A guard walked down the hallway, whistling merrily to themself. They turned the corner and upon noticing Hunter, stopped abruptly in their tracks. The Coven member made an aggravated, higher-pitched humming sound and turned around the way they’d come.

The sound of doors swinging open pulled Hunter’s attention away from the guard and he turned to face the portal room. A pair of long, dark, greenish-brown tentacles reached out and pulled him back in, the doors swinging shut behind them.

Hunter slammed into the floor with an audible umph. He pushed himself to his feet as Rascal transformed out of staff form and landed on his head with a worried chirping noise. The Grimwalker groaned and clutched his arm, but his hand came back mostly uncolored by blood. Something else he should’ve noticed; he healed way faster than other witches and almost never got scars unless his wounds were really serious.

He looked up at the doors and tried to ignore the pounding in his ears, hoping for an escape. Instead he was met with a twisted snarl, dripping with a thick, mudlike substance.

His eyes widened and he turned to run, but a vinelike appendage tripped him and the boy fell to his knees. Rascal turned back into a staff and pulled him into a standing position.

He shot a blast of golden magic (primarily defensive, he told himself) at the shape of the emperor and watched as the spot hit with the beam of energy splattered before quickly reforming. The mud monster roared at a deafening volume and Hunter clapped his hands over his ears with a wince.

Belos - or what was left of Belos - launched itself at Hunter and the boy ducked and rolled to the side. A painfully sharp piece of… something nicked his ear, but the scratch was so tiny he wasn’t going to worry about it right now.

The mud monster held up what looked a lot like a claw and slammed it down on top of Hunter. Rascal formed a golden shield of magic that mostly deflected the attack, but the Grimwalker still felt the force of the blow push him to his knees.

For a few moments, everything was quiet, save for the panting Golden Guard. He closed his eyes, expecting another attack, but none came. Hunter realized his mask had been thrown off at some point during the fight, and it was laying a few feet away from him on the ground.

He looked up at Belos, who had returned to a vaguely familiar form and was leaning against a wall, his chest rising and falling in heavy breaths.

“Uncle, are you-“

“That was a mistake,” Belos replied, his voice dripping with almost literal venom. His mask had also fallen off, but the boy couldn’t see it anywhere. Not that Hunter could take his eyes off of the emperor’s revealed face, which bore such a resemblance to Philip that it suddenly made believing the two were the same person so much easier and yet so much harder.

The emperor straightened his back. “The Titan will not be pleased. Goodbye, brother.” He held up his arm and closed his fist, and suddenly Hunter’s wrist started burning. A sharp cry left the Grimwalker’s throat as dark golden vines crawled out from his Coven tattoo. Belos turned around, a pained - maybe even fearful - expression on his face.

And then everything was gone.

#asks #fanfiction #past to future au #emperor belos #hunter wittebane #the owl house #the OW house #philip wittebane #haha angst go brrrr #in this AU no one is safe from my- I mean the Titan’s wrath #toh au #toh fanfiction #grimwalker theory #lil rascal #steve was mentioned

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

Text

Hue and Cry XV

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), grief, death, some elements may be untagged.

This is dark!medieval!Bucky Barnes x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: Lord Barnes faces the consequences of his actions.

Note: Yesterday’s chapter was intense, right? Well, here you go.

Thanks to everyone and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

MASTERLIST

The solemn servants carried the board as the woman's broken figure rested atop it. None knew if she was still alive and none were brave enough to ask. They just did as they were told as the duke, Lord Barnes, walked behind, his artificial arm gone, snapped from the impact of his fall, and his expression stony but bruised. He was streaked in blood; his own, the horse's, hers, maybe all three.

His closest friend, Lord Rogers walked beside him, mostly unscathed from the undue violence of their competition. The king and his wife trailed not far after the party as the body many feared was a corpse was balanced on the wide plank.

They were directed to the duke's chambers but did not move the woman from the wood. Instead they placed it atop the bed as her shorn skirts fanned around her and her stained sleeves laid like wings over her arms. They jostled her as they let the board down but she did not groan or gripe. She likely could not, if she could do anything at all.

The duke paced and stopped now and then to stare at the woman as he awaited the physician. The king and queen sat grimly on the cushioned bench before the dwindling hearth and the other nobleman stood by the window.

"Where is the healer?" Barnes growled as he came to the foot of the bed, "they will kill her with their indifference."

"He is coming," Samuel assured, "it will not be time that kills her, likely,"

"Oh shut up," the duke snarled, "she will live. I know she will."

"Brother," the queen said softly, "she was trod into the dirt… you cannot think--"

"She must, she must," the duke babbled and gripped the bed post as his eyes clung to her lifeless form, "she cannot--"

The knock came and Lord Rogers retreated from the curtains to open the door. The physician entered with his assistant and a chest with leather straps. He approached the bed with a morbid gaze. He looked her over then blinked at the silent duke.

"I am told she was caught beneath a horse," he said.

"Yes, yes, she…" Barnes' voice drifted off as his lips stayed parted. He was senseless as he could not look away from her.

The healer sat carefully beside the board and softly touched her throat. He nodded as his fingers pressed down and he brought his other hand to feel more firmly. He gave a long sigh and carefully moved her head.

"She is breathing. Barely. Her neck isn't broke but…" he felt along her shoulders and arms, her sides, and stirred around her skirts, "other parts of her, likely inside too."

"Can't you help her?" Barnes croaked.

"I can try," he replied hopelessly, "even if by some miracle she survives, she won't be the same. Not fully."

"Do what you can," the duke bid, "and the rest of you can go."

"Bucky…" his sister stood, "you shouldn't--"

"I said go," he snapped, "go away."

He turned his back to them again and stretched his fingers. He was shaking. His mouth was dry and yet he felt bile in his throat. She was stupid, she'd done it upon her own foolishness, so why did he feel so rotten?

🏰

She was a shell. Lord Barnes stared at the woman, cocooned in strips of linen atop his bed. It had taken so long for them to cut her out of her gown and bandage her. When he closed his eyes, he saw the damage done to her fragile body.

He didn't sleep, only fed the fire and watched her. He didn't pray, he didn't speak, he just sat there, ignoring his own pains. She could have killed him too, he reminded himself, he wished she had.

She hadn't awoken, hadn't even twitched, at times, he was certain she'd stopped breathing. But he would lean in and listen, too afraid to touch her, and he heard the deathly rasps. Then he sat again and watched and watched and watched. Nothing happened.

The physician returned with the day. She was the same as before. He checked her arm in its splint and went through his careful inspection of her. He gave the duke the same empty words. Nothing more could be done.

The days passed as such. The physician tried to feed her with assistance from his aide and they cleaned up after her humanly messes. They changed her bandages, a painstaking task, and shook their heads as they left.

Nearly a week went by and the knock at the door was heavier than that of the healer. Lord Barnes called for his guard to let in his visitor and the duke was on his feet at once. He curled his lip as the Baron entered with a tall thin man at his shoulder.

"My lord, I've not come to provoke you, though I do realise your distaste for me but I hope for the sake of this… woman you would set it aside," Lord Zemo spoke carefully. Barnes was surprised how the other man did not flinch as he came to stand close to him, his fist gripping wantingly at his side.

"Why else would you come but to pester me?" Barnes sneered.

"I have heard reports of the unfortunate woman who did collide with your horse. I have found her weighing often on my heart and despite what has transpired between us, she is innocent of all that," he glanced forlornly at the bed, "This is Werner. He is my personal physician. He has treated every type of ailment, even a similar injury suffered by a stable boy."

"I have a healer," Barnes insisted.

"I am aware but what is one more opinion on the lady's condition," Zemo argued, "you needn't bide me, only the healer. He is at your whim, not mine. Yes, Werner?"

"My lord," the taller man bowed to each nobleman in turn, "with your permission, I would review the lady's wounds."

Barnes inhaled deeply. He shook his head at Zemo and shoved him back. The other man stumbled and the physician watched in shock.

"I don't want your help," Barnes hissed, "how dare you come here. Be gone before you are in worse condition than her."

"Lord Barnes, can we not--"

"We can't," Barnes gritted his teeth, "now go. I am too tired for you."

Baron Zemo looked at him placidly and lifted a single brow. He turned to his physician and gestured him away. They turned and went back to the door. The foreign lord stopped before he passed into the corridor, "the offer stands despite all this. Just send for Werner and he will come."

Barnes stormed over and slammed the door behind the Baron. He hit it with his fist and swore loudly. He turned and leaned against the wood and dropped his head back. Why couldn't anyone just leave him alone?

🏰

The day after Zemo’s appearance, another unexpected knock sounded from the corridor. Lord Barnes barely heard it as he was half-asleep in the chair. It shook the door again and he woke with a start. He stood and stumbled over, too hoarse to call for his guard to do his job.

He opened it and reeled at the sight of the young Lord Parker. He scoffed and made to shut the door. Parker caught it and gave him a desperate look, brows drawn together and eyes sparkling.

“Please, I did come to see her but there is something I must also speak to you on,” the viscount urged, “please, hear me. For her.”

Barnes’ eyes tingled and his lashes flicked away the droplets. He shrugged and stepped back, retreating back to the chair as the boy entered. Parker closed the door gently and his lightly footsteps crept over the floorboards. The duke stared at the wall and wiped his sweaty hand on his breeches.

“So, what is it?” he asked.

The younger lord stood by the bed and stared down at the unconscious woman. He was pale, deathly so, and he spun away from her with a gasp of dismay.

“It is my fault,” he said, “she spoke to me before she ran in front of your horse. She said how I’d hurt her and she was right. And I only did it because I thought it would help her. That it could save her from you, even that it might protect my family as well.”

“She spoke to you?” Barnes asked as his hackles raised.

“Would you begrudge her that? Even now?” Parker faced him, “look at her! I claim my part in this horrid thing but you… you are just as guilty.”

“Is that why you came? To tell me I killed her?”

“Killed? She--”

“Not dead yet but she is dying. I know it. I’ve seen men die, it isn’t any different with women,” Barnes felt the tears well and wiped them away and sniffed, “and yes, I do know it is of my doing.”

Parker was silent and shifted on his feet, “I’m sorry.”

“Good bye, Lord Parker,” Barnes huffed.

The other man hesitated but slowly moved to the door. He glanced back before he left and as he did, the wind from the corridor blew out the only lit candle. Barnes sat in the flicker of the fireplace and leaned forward to hold his face. His chest tightened as the dread coiled up his spine like a snake.

He thought if he didn’t say it aloud, it couldn’t be. He thought he could save her still. He hoped…

He stood and marched to the door. He ripped it open and grabbed Lester by his cowl, “go! Zemo’s man, fetch him.”

🏰

Werner changed the woman’s bandages and stood to wrap up the used strips. It was the third day he’d been to the Duke’s room and the lady did appear more lively, even if she had yet to wake. Her breaths were deeper and there was a new tone to her complexion. The physician packed up his chest and tutted.

“I know my master is… a particular sort of man but you should have called me sooner,” Werner said, “your healer, he did not wrap her ribs well enough and he should know how to feed a patient in her condition properly.”

“Thank you,” Barnes said, “is she getting better?”

“Better than she was, certainly, but will she get any better? Well, my lord, where I am from, we do not dampen the truth with hope. This is likely as good as she will be ever again,” he held his chest under his arm as he faced the duke, “many who have faced a horse’s step have not fared so long.”

“And there is nothing you can do? Nothing else?” Barnes frowned.

“I can see to your own wounds. The ones you’ve not treated,” he offered, “you’re lucky the cut on your cheek has scabbed and not festered. You should allow me to examine the rest.”

“Suppose… suppose you are right,” Barnes relented, “the cuts and bruises are mostly healed but I have a pain,” he touched his shoulder, “I’m afraid I’ve made it worse in my anger.”

“If you would,” the physician replaced his chest on the bed, “you might remove your tunic and I will have a look.”

Barnes nodded and carefully stripped his tunic. He hadn’t replaced the arm forged in steel and wood. It was useless anyway. The healer moved around him and felt along his shoulder and told him to lift his arm.

“It is still in place but likely sprained--”

Both men froze as the woman coughed. Barnes pulled away from the physician and raced to the bed. The taller man caught up to him and stopped him with a hand on his chest. He tapped his bare skin and held up his finger.

“Wait, don’t--” Werner moved to sit next to the woman as her body tensed and and her breath harried and stopped all at once, “there is trouble.”

He bent and listened to her chest then moved to open her mouth. He opened her lips and covered them with his own. Barnes had never seen such a practice as the man blew into her mouth and pumped her chest. He was careful but firm as he varied between puffing and pressing.

“Is there anything I can do?” Barnes asked.

Werner shook his head as his tending grew more frantic. He leaned over the girl again as he stopped and he touched her cheek daintily. He was quiet as his hand moved to her chest then his fingers crawled back up to her neck. He stiffened and sat up. He looked over at Barnes as the wrinkles around his eyes deepened.

“She is dead, my lord,” he said as he drew his chest into his lap and stood, “her heart seized. The pain, it was likely too much for her.”

“Dead?” Barnes echoed airily.

“My apologies, I did all I could--”

“Dead.” Barnes affirmed, “well, then I suppose you might send for a carpenter.”

“My lord?” The physician questioned.

“For the coffin,” the duke answered bluntly as he turned away, “I thank you for trying as hard as you did. I should’ve let her go sooner.”

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sunshineandbnha · 3 years

Text

Back Then - Bakugou x female reader

Word count: 3,831 Minor warnings: little boys being a tad rude, a little bit of angst A/n: I had this idea when I watched a few episodes of Anohana, and I happened to finish it around his birthday. I really like this and I hope you will too.

The water trickled over the stones. Leaves rustled in the wind. And sometimes these sounds were completely drowned out with laughs and the voices of children. Children who had nothing better to do than run play in the forest. Then to run back home and hear the sounds of each one’s respective parent call them inside for dinner.

Those were the sounds of your childhood.

Playing hero in the woods with the little boy named Bakugou and the rest of his friends.

“A girl can’t join!” The boy with longer brown hair had said.

You stood before them. Having just asked if you could play with them. Upon receiving such a response, you began to retract in on yourself.

“We need strong brave heroes,” the boy with dragon-like wings added excitedly.

You stood still and bit your lip. Feeling unwanted for something you couldn’t control. The boy with green hair shyly began to open his mouth as if to protest.

Bakugou held out his hand to quiet them. He looked directly at you. “You can join us if you prove yourself. We’ll have a test of courage.” He pointed off in a certain direction. “In the forest, across the log over a stream, are two trees in an X. At night you’ll go grab a bucket on the rock under those trees and bring it in the morning.”

Your eyes stayed locked on his. Yours wavered in uncertainty, until you gave a nod and made the strongest face you could.

That night you snuck out when no one was looking. Unfortunately you had forgotten to bring a flashlight and the world was covered in darkness. However, you weren’t going to risk being caught by having to leave your home a second time. You walked through the lit up town. The only lights for miles shined artificially. You prayed the clouds covering the moon would go away.

You were feeling much more nervous than you were expecting and wanted to turn back so badly. But you weren’t a coward. You weren’t a useless girl that couldn’t be strong or brave. That could be left out. You couldn’t come back without that bucket.

It became much harder once you were at the entrance to the forest. The one that spiky blond haired boy had shown you. The streetlights faded away as you walked deeper in. You walked very slowly. You didn’t want to trip. Your heart pounded in your chest. You had to keep going.

In the end you decided to go down and step over the stream rather than cross on the log. Your prayers must have been answered, because the moon peeked through the clouds. When you looked up, you noticed that the majority of the clouds had moved on. By then your eyes had adjusted somewhat and the moonlight helped, but it was still difficult. Thankfully, the two trees weren’t far from the log. If Bakugou hadn’t told you which direction to go, you might have missed them in the dark. What helped were some shiny rocks in the moonlight, where it reflected and caught your eye.

You walked closer, the light extra bit of light the rocks appeared to give off prompted you to move more quickly. The grass was soft under your feet. The two trees that formed the X seemed to have started to fall some time ago, but were caught by the other trees standing around them. And right where he said it would be, was a bucket sitting on a large piece of stone.

You ran to the bucket and picked it up, hugging it close to you. Then you looked back. You were on a slight hill and you thought you could see some of the lights from outside the forest. You almost dreaded going back. In the beginning, you had treated it like it would all be done as soon as you got the bucket, but you quickly realized that was only half the journey.

With a small sigh, you began to walk back. Though, you briefly stopped to scoop up one of the shiny stones and slipped it into your pocket. It was pretty, and you liked it. It was like they were placed in the moonlight just for you. And you were grateful for it.

You weaved through the trees. Your eyes drifting between the ground and your target.

A sudden noise caused you to jump. Rustling in a nearby bush. Assuming the worst, you gripped your hand around the rock in your pocket, and raised it, prepared to throw in case some wild animal leaped out at you. You pulled your lips into a thin line and tried to make a brave face while you trembled.

It was coming out. You were preparing yourself to throw, your muscle tensing and fear running through you. Until you noticed it was a person. Someone your age. You could feel his eyes regard you.

“So you got it,” Bakugou, whose name you had yet to learn at the time, said.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding in. “What are you doing here?” you asked gently holding the bucket close to you and dropping the stone back in your pocket.

“I didn’t feel like staying home, I thought I’d come too and make sure you did it.”

You nodded, shifting on your feet. There was a pause of silence. The lights in the distance illuminated the horizon like an artificial sunrise or cluster of clouds. The only sound present were the crickets and running water if you listened hard enough. You turned back towards the way home. Bakugou lifted up a flashlight he had with him and flicked it on.

The bright light made you blink as it illuminated the world in front of you. The light partly shown on his face, with his back still in the dark. It made him somehow look different than when he was fully bathed in sunlight. You didn’t know why, and you didn’t know why it seemed to give you a strange emotion.

“You didn’t bring a flashlight?” he asked as you had both started walking downhill.

“I forgot,” you said quietly.

He laughed, “Dummy.”

“Hey!” But something about the smirk playing on his face made you know he was joking and forgive him immediately. You even found yourself laugh too.

Eventually you were found out and got into some trouble when they realized you left the home alone at night. But in your eyes, it was worth it. You were able to bring the bucket to show the other kids. Ever since that you would explore and play hero in the forest. Typically, Bakugou was the main hero or even had his own agency. There were sometimes when you would play as the citizen in need of rescuing, but you also got your share of playing hero too. You spent so much time memorizing those trees and the countless things they could be. A tower, a base, a bank.

The grass became your carpet. The forest became your home. And it and your friends became your world.

Those were the most fun memories of your childhood.

And then it ended.

“Hey, Kacchan!” one of the little boys said, after resting from running around.

“What?” Bakugou raised an eyebrow.

“Do you like (Y/n)?”

It was a small question. But it felt like an earthquake. And years later it would feel like the Earth breaking in two.

Bakugou only paused for a few seconds, his eyes wide, before his face twisted into anger and he exploded. “No, dummy! Why would I like an ugly girl like her—!?” He immediately stopped when he remembered you, only a few feet away.

Everyone stared at you to see your response.

You stared at the ground, which helped to hide your shocked face. Feeling their eyes on you, you looked up to meet their gaze and put on a big smile. An uncharacteristically big smile.

Your happy attitude for the rest of the day felt fake and exaggerated. Once, when no one was paying attention and you thought no one would notice, you snuck off. You wandered through your playground. As you walked, your disguise slowly fell. It became harder and hardly to see clearly and your lip quivered. You didn’t know where you were going, but you knew once you saw it.

You stumbled down by the stream and sat yourself under the log you would walk across with the others. Somehow it felt safe. Being nestled under there with your legs pulled up to your chest. You hoped you weren’t getting your dress too dirty. Your face contorted with sadness as tears poured down your face and you struggled to contain your sobs.

You didn’t even understand why you felt this way. Why the words were repeating. Why your chest was hurting. You wouldn’t understand until you got older.

You stayed out there until it started raining. It started off with a few pitter patters until heavy sheets started coming down. The others had probably left and gotten back to their homes. Safe and dry. You on the other hand were so distraught that you didn’t even consider getting back through the rain. If you waited much longer, you might worry your parents. You had no choice but to walk through it.

You flinched at the cool water at first, but quickly got used to it after you were drenched. You weren’t in a hurry. You didn’t feel like running. So you wandered back home. You were quickly rushed to and dried off once you got back with a brief scolding. But they could seem to tell you were out of it and tired, so they let you off the hook.

The next day you woke up sick. Your little self hadn’t been expecting that since it had been warm earlier in the day, but apparently the rain was colder than you realized. You had to stay inside until you got better. They said that you needed all of your energy to recover and make sure it didn’t get worse.

Then just as you were starting to recover, you learned that you would be moving away.

“But what about my friends?” You had asked. Your arms and hands were pulled close to you.

“Don’t worry. You can always call and write letters,” you were told. But that’s not what happened.

Those words that forever repeated in your mind would become the last thing you heard Bakugou say.

It felt strange to be back. Part of you almost wished you weren’t. All of your old memories were now bittersweet. And it was strange how it looked the same, but so many details were different. A lot of your memories from the past had blurred, though you wondered if you’d still be able to find your way around the forest.

Your family decided to visit some relatives who lived near your old home. They missed seeing you, and for the most part you didn’t get much say in the visit. So you had packed your things and prepared yourself for any heavy feelings that may hit you upon coming back.

Though, as you were walking down the familiar road, you noticed something was off.

“This isn’t the way to their house,” you commented, confident you still remembered he way to your relatives house.

“I know. We decided to see the Bakugou family.”

“What?” You nearly dropped your bag and nervous feelings danced in your stomach.

“It’s been a long time since we’ve seen Mitsuki. And you can spend time with little Katsuki again! It’s his birthday you know.”

You were aware that your parents would occasionally talk with Bakugou’s parents and had some sort of friendship because of your friendship with Bakugou. But you hadn’t imagined it would be strong enough for them to want to meet up again years later. Or for them to even consider your old friend's birthday.

“He probably isn’t little anymore. Neither of us are! We’re in high school. And we haven’t seen each other in years. About… eleven or twelve years.”

“All the more reason to see each other again and catch up.

You sighed. There was no fighting it and you just walked along.

Arriving at the Bakugou residence was a strange combination of pleasant and awkward. The parents greeted you warmly. You stayed to the side as much as possible. They started talking with each other, leaving you feeling like you were stuck in a room with a TV but no remote, and the show on wasn’t one you cared for. Bakugou didn’t seem to be fairing much better and had his arms crossed as he stayed away from them.

At dinner, they purposefully set you next to him. Your muscles kept involuntarily tensing up. Neither of you talked during the meal. In fact, he seemed to completely ignore your existence.

To be perfectly honest, you had started to forget what he looked like. The details of his face in your mind became more and more blurred over time. He had grown a lot more handsome since the last time you’d seen him. And for some reason it infuriated you. You began to shovel rice into your mouth.

Dinner ended, and you thought that would be the end of your anti-climactic reunion. Apparently the universe had other plans.

“Why don’t you two go out and catch up,” your parent suggested.

“What?” you and Bakugou said simultaneously.

And with that, you were practically pushed out the door. You both stood there for a moment before awkwardly deciding to just walk on the street. There were a few people out that you would walk around. It was a nice enough day, not too hot, not too cold. The sun ducked in and out from behind clouds during the day, but currently it was shining down.

You stood side by side with Bakugou. The tense silence poked you like needles. He walked with his hands in his pockets. Just like the rest of the day, he ignored you. He hadn’t even made eye contact with you since you both agreed to just walk around.

No matter how much you wanted to resist having a conversation with him, you preferred that to that agonizing silence. You awkwardly glanced around for a conversation topic. You caught some TVs on display playing the news.

“So I heard villain attacks are on the rise or something. Or was that just where I live?” you started, already feeling as if you failed, but kept going. “What if a villain jumps out here and attacks us?” you joked.

“Haven’t you heard? I’m going to be the number one hero. I would take them down before they could even get to you,” he replied, not even glancing at you.

You froze. Feeling like you had been plunged into ice water as a memory resurfaced. That night when you and him walked back from the forest.

You had been walking through the town with him next to you. You still clutched the bucket as you glanced around. It hadn’t occurred to you until then, but you remembered your mom saying villain attacks were more likely at night. When you first came out, all you could think about was getting the bucket. But now that you already had it…

You had tugged on the hem of little Bakugou’s shirt to get his attention. “I heard that there’s villains around here. What if one comes out and hurts us?” You shivered and sunk into your shoulders in fear. Your imagination wasted no time in showing you every possible kind of villain jumping out from any dark corner.

“They won’t.” He turned his head back to the path before him.

“How do you know?”

“Because I’m going to be a hero. And I would take them down before they got anywhere near you,” he said confidently, though never looking at you.

“(Y/n). Why’d you stop?” a voice dragged you back. Teenage Bakugou glared you down, annoyance evident in his expression. There were also subtle signs of curious along with it, but you didn’t notice.

The sudden rush of the memory was too much. You didn’t know what you were doing, but you just knew you wanted to leave. You wanted to be alone. You began dashing off. If he called after you, you didn’t hear. Why? Why were you hurting again? Why did it feel like your chest was being torn to pieces over memories that took place over a decade ago?

Everything was a blur around you. You had no idea where you were even heading to. You were simply met with the choices of whether to turn left, right, or straight, and decide in the moment. It didn’t even occur to you that you were running into a forest until several seconds after you did.

You ran, and ran. And you ended up back at that stream with the log. The same water trickling over rocks. The same rise of land that allowed for passage under the log. Somehow, after all of these years, you still subconsciously remembered where it was. It felt a lot smaller.

Without even thinking about it, you sat under that log. You curled in on yourself and stared at the water. Flowing over the small rocks, creating ridges in the clear liquid as the stones interrupted the flow.

You sat and stared. You didn’t even care, and pretended not to notice, when Bakugou slowly walked up and sat beside you. He didn't look at you. You did look at him. Neither of you made eye contact. Like the other was a ghost. But there was a strange mutual understanding that you acknowledged the other. That the silence and emotional distance was out of respect.

After all of this time, you were there again. Like you were kids once more. It was strange how, in a way, that forest raised you. You had certainly become more bold afterwards.

“What was that all about?” he said. But quietly.

You didn’t answer, opting for curling in further on yourself.

He paused. Hesitant on how to handle your silence. "I asked you a question."

"Nothing." Your voice was barely louder than a whisper.

"Don't run off because of nothing! Idiot. I had to follow you all the way here."

Birds filled the silence. Chirping songs to one another. Trees rustled in the breeze. It all created as harmony you were too familiar with. One you were both too familiar with.

"It's been a while since we were here," you said.

He nodded with a grunt.

You shifted your knees closer to yourself once more. But as you did so, you felt something slip out of your pocket. In brief confusion, you looked down. The blond followed your gaze.

Ever since that night, when you got the bucket, you kept that stone with you. It had perfectly been there when you needed it. And ever since you put it in your pocket that night, it hasn't left your side. It had been a good luck charm for you. A piece of your childhood. A sign that maybe someone out there was looking out for you.

“That’s… I—!” Bakugou’s eyes widened, but he stopped himself. He turned away as his face went pink.

“That’s what?” you asked confused.

“I… nothing. Just it looks like one of the rocks from around here.”

“Yeah. I'm not sure how you can tell that just by looking, but it is. To be more specific, it was one from the night I did that Test of Courage. I was actually pretty nervous. It was dark and I was stupid enough to forget a flashlight,” you softly laughed at yourself. “And… those rocks were there. It was a miracle that they were, otherwise it would have been a lot harder for me to find the bucket. I dunno, it’s weird, but for some reason, the way they were placed in the moonlight made me feel like someone out there was looking out for me.” Why were you even saying this? He probably didn’t care.

You looked over and saw him staring at the stream. His guard still seemed to be up, but his facial expressions looked softer for some reason.

You exhaled. "God, I missed it here." Then the memory resurfaced again. "But…" Tears started to well up again.

He looked at you with confusion, and concern? If you weren't mistaken.

"What is it this time?"

"Nothing, just." Your lies seem to only strengthen the flow of tears. "I'm sorry. I thought I was over this. Why am I crying again? Sorry. It’s stupid."

"What is?!"

"You called me ugly! Is it true?" You didn't mean to say that. You didn’t even want to know the answer… actually, that wasn't true. You did want to know the answer. You were just afraid of what it would be.

"No!"

You blinked. "I'm not?"

"No, of course you aren't," he grumbled and looked away from you.

"Are you talking about now or back then?"

"Back then--" he suddenly stopped himself, his eyes suddenly wide, like he was saying something he wasn't supposed to. "And now too."

"Wait." You sat up. "But if I wasn't? Why did you say that?"

He quickly looked away. "No reason."

"What? No, it’s not. Tell me." You turned your body to face him, inching slightly closer.

"It's none of your business!"

"Is it because you thought I was ugly then? Are you lying so I don't feel bad--?"

"NO! IT'S BECAUSE I LIKED YOU!" He slammed his fists on the ground.

Your heart sped up when you realized how close you were. His face burned pink when he realized the same thing. He backed up and looked away.

"Idiot."

You thought for a few seconds.. "So… do you still--?"

"Don't even ask that."

You let out a breath of a laugh. "You know, maybe sometime you can show me what you've been learning at U.A." You tried to say lightheartedly.

"Maybe."

You thought back to when you'd play in the woods. "I bet you're a great hero."

"Of course I am."

You rested your head on your knees. You tapped a finger against your arm until you had an idea. You got your phone out, pulled up a 'create contact' page and handed it to him.

"Here."

He stared at it for a second. Letting out a snort, he turned his head away. You gently set your phone down next to him. He ignored it for the first few seconds. With a "tch" he picked it up and started typing.

"Why are the keys so small?!"

You laughed.

"There." He shoved it back to you.

"Thank you," you said as you tucked your phone away.

It was quiet. But the comfortable kind. You both sat there. Enjoying yourselves and the moment. You took a breath in and savored it. You already knew what you would text when you'd have to leave.

"It was nice seeing you again."

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou birthday bash #bakugou birthday #happy birthday bakugou #bakugo x reader #bnha bakugou #mha bakugou #mha bakugo #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia

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teawaffles · 3 years

Text

The Conspiratorial Bullet: Chapter 7, Part 1

T/N: For the first time, a chapter will have three parts ( ; ω ; ) This is one very long scene..!

TW for this chapter // Mention of death, blood

If there were a hole in the ground, he would dive right into it.

——Is that what one would call this state of mind?

That was what Kevin Curtis thought as he nervously wandered the forest alone.

After they’d bid farewell to Albert, for a while, he and the elderly nobleman Andy had continued walking on with no destination in mind. Then they ran into a couple of nobles from the opposing team, and somehow started shooting at one another; before he knew it, for some reason, he had found himself all alone.

When the fighting started, Kevin had panicked and knocked into Andy. He’d then dropped his revolver somewhere, and descended into an even greater panic. Kevin crawled on the ground to search for it after that, and just as he’d finally found his own gun, the next thing he knew, he was both lost and alone. For about a minute, Kevin had hugged his knees as he fell into despair, such was the height of his misery.

“But it’s a good thing this card was here.”

Kevin spoke to himself, brushing his fingers over the card that had been tied to the revolver. Without it, he wouldn’t have had the confidence to say that the gun he had picked up was his own. On the card, the number 8 was clearly written.

“But what should I do now……?”

He kept going “But, but” over and over as he swayed, repeatedly turning his head to look around him. Even though the forest wasn’t very large, perhaps it was the strangeness of his surroundings that heightened his unease, for it had begun to seem oddly complex and bizarre.

In times like this, if he were here——

The figure of that man rose to his mind: his business partner, Helena’s father, and his best friend.

In contrast to the timid Kevin, he had an endlessly bright and cheerful personality. There were times when Kevin had thought that cheeriness bothersome, but the man was optimistic, and loved a challenge, which meshed well with his own pessimistic and cautious nature. The store they’d opened and run together had been a success, so much so it had grown into an enormous department store.

Why did he just disappear? Kevin knew it was useless to think about it now, but even so, he still couldn’t help but feel that way.

They’d known one another for ten years, yet Kevin hadn’t noticed him being particularly troubled. Their business was progressing smoothly, and it didn’t seem as though he was having problems at home. After Helena had been born, his wife had fallen ill and passed away, but Kevin was certain that he and Helena had come to terms with her passing for a long time now.

Even so, perhaps there was something else that no one knew about, which had been gnawing away at him for some time. Then, why hadn’t he noticed anything? Kevin had asked himself this question many times over as he was interviewed by the Yard.

Of course, there was the line of thought that no one was to blame, and he’d been abducted by someone. In an industry where resentment was common, perhaps there were some people who would resort to such extreme measures — and Kevin had been too careless to anticipate it. Whether he wanted to or not, that incident came to mind. That was why…….

Unconsciously, Kevin’s eyes began to search for the girl he had taken in.

That was why he would at least protect Helena — that was the duty Kevin had taken upon himself. Even after her beloved father had gone missing, Helena had never once lost her outspoken spontaneity, nor shown the slightest sign of grief, and he was staunchly determined to protect that resolute spirit of hers.

“Hm?”

Unexpectedly, his train of thought had been interrupted. Speak of the devil perhaps, or maybe his thoughts alone managed to influence reality. As Kevin stumbled through the forest, before his eyes appeared a lone girl with her back turned to him.

——Was that Helena? From her hairstyle and clothes, it did appear so. Strangely, she was sitting in the tall grass, her back hunched as she hugged her knees. She appeared to be staring intently at something before her, without showing any sign of having noticed Kevin behind her.

He pondered. Now, he and Helena were on opposing teams. Moreover, this girl, who seemed to be Helena, had exposed her back to him, leaving herself full of openings……. In this situation, what was the right thing to do?

If he were to play the part of a kind and generous father, he could call out to her, and let her shoot him on purpose. But he was quite certain that Helena, prideful as she was, would want a serious battle; if she knew he deliberately let her get away, it was inevitable that she would throw a big fuss about it no matter what good intentions he had.

In that case, should he fire on her right now? But then he was worried he might upset her, and just as all sorts of concerns whirled around Kevin’s head, someone thumped a hand on his back.

“………!”

Kevin had almost let out a yelp, but he frantically clapped a hand over his mouth as he spun around. There, he saw Andy Krueger, whom he’d lost sight of in the battle earlier.

The man placed an index finger over his mouth, signalling Kevin to stay quiet, and walked up beside him.

“That’s Helena-kun, isn’t it?”

Andy sounded fairly certain on that, and Kevin lowered his voice as he spoke.

“I just happened to come up behind her, and now I’m not sure if I should shoot.”

Andy gave him a wry smile.

“That’s quite like you. But even though it’s just for fun, you shouldn’t bring parental affection into a fight. Go on, get her before she runs away.”

“A-Alright.”

He had thought of Andy as a compassionate person, but it seemed he also had this surprisingly severe side to him. At the elderly nobleman’s rapid insistence, Kevin was on edge as he aimed his gun at the girl.

“Come on, quickly now,” Andy pressed.

There was no space for objection. Without thinking straight, Kevin pulled the trigger.

——Bang. A sound like a crack resounded through the air.

The recoil was stronger than expected, and Kevin fell on his bottom. Half stunned, he felt a little out of sync: perhaps it was because he was a complete amateur with a firearm.

However, that shot had felt subtly different from the previous times he’d fired his gun. The sense of incongruity that had arisen when he fired the shot, as well as a mysterious unease, both hit him simultaneously. Getting to his feet, Kevin looked at the girl in fear.

The girl lay curled up quietly on the ground. On her back was a huge splash of colour. But it wasn’t the hue of some artificial paint — rather, it was an ominously bright red.

“……Huh?”

That sinister red blotch gradually bloomed across the girl’s back. As he looked on, Kevin tilted his head in a comical motion.

It was the first time he had hit his target: to think, the colour would be as realistic as that. Moreover, the girl had yet to move a muscle. Maybe she was diligently pretending to be dead.

Kevin’s thoughts couldn’t catch up with the reality happening right before his eyes. As he stared ahead in a daze, beside him, the elderly nobleman spoke up in horror.

“Kevin-kun……. Was that, a live bullet?”

At that word, Kevin came back to himself. He looked at his revolver: both his hands were trembling abnormally. No way. Just now—— did he fire a real gun?

“Why? This is a toy, isn’t……”

“Give it here.”

Andy snatched the revolver from his hands. The card with the number 8 fluttered in the air. That’s right. Wasn’t it precisely that card which proved definitively that the gun was the one he’d been given? But even that little hope had been so easily crushed.

After briefly inspecting the gun, Andy gazed at him, wide-eyed.

“This is the real thing. You’ve just shot and killed her.”

His tone was emphatic, as if he were pronouncing judgement upon him. Kevin’s mind was a complete blank, but Andy shook his shoulders and immediately jerked him back to reality.

“You’ve done something terrible now, Kevin-kun! To think, you’ve killed your own child!”

“N—No…… I was just, playing a game—”

“That excuse won’t hold up! You’ve committed murder!”

As Andy shook him over and over, the word “murder” echoed in Kevin’s mind. Certainly, it was as the old man said. No matter what reasons he had, it was an unquestionable, irreversible fact that he had killed someone.

Andy went on volubly at a rapid clip.

“This is bad. If you go on like this, it’ll be your end. A murder conviction will strip you of your wealth, your name — everything. But you’re lucky that I’m the one who witnessed it. First off, let’s hide the body somewhere inconspicuous. Then we’ll make it seem as though Helena simply disappeared, and you can hide away in a foreign country. Once the furore dies down, you can come back; until then, leave the plans for your new store with me.”

“N-Now hold on just a minute!”

Even as he was overwhelmed by the force of Andy’s arguments, Kevin somehow managed to interrupt his proposal.

“We don’t know for sure whether she’s dead. If we give her first aid right away, she might still be saved. And what did you mean about leaving my plans for the store with you? What does the management of my store have to do with you?”

Kevin’s points were valid, but Andy refused to listen.

“Look at her! She hasn’t twitched at all: of course she’s dead! And it’s the same with the store! You’re a murder suspect, while I, a noble, am clearly more trustworthy, so it would be obviously more effective if I were to operate it——”

“——You’re getting a little ahead of yourself, Lord Andy.”

As if he’d been possessed by something, Andy was just making an impassioned speech when a refreshing voice cut him off.

Kevin looked up, and caught sight of a man standing behind Andy.

#moriarty the patriot #yuukoku no moriarty #yuumori #english translation #the girl who sees rainbows

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goldstonegolem64 · 2 years

Text

Murder Drones Ocs Team Dread

Since I’m in a Murder drone state of mine I Decide to Talk about some of my Ocs. Team Dread will be the first group I talk about.

Team Dread is a Anti-Disassembly Drone team. Each Member was build to kill Disassembly in their own brutal way. But they are also a little unstable

Team members

Doc is the Teams leader and not much of frontline fighter and relies on horde of Husks to overwhelm his foes then rips them apart when their overheating all while laughing and thanking his poor target for the parts. He joined the family after N and Gamma beat him and and told him to surrender or go offline Which he choose to join to continue his work and help Uzi keep the others Alive

Looks: Doc wears a long oil stained lab coat and black pants. They have nice well kept Copper colored hair and instead of wings he has two sets of extendable arms and his tail ends in a stinger like most of the other Disassembly drones

Weapons: Doc has a lazer blade in his right arm and a buzz saw in his left. In His stinger instead of nanite acid it has a green Nanite Virus that Doc called the Re-Animator virus that allows Doc to bring the dead back to life as Husks of their former selves. This Husks also follow his orders. His back arm also can rip his opponents apart

Personality: Doc has a God complex and wishes to make an A.I that isn’t a copy of a Human mind like most A.I or a Mix of two separate A.I. This attempts normally ends in failure but in Doc words “ Becoming a God takes time and effort. So no matter how many failures I face . I will be the God of Artificial Life “

Chem is a chemist and Hunter of the team and the one everyone learn to fear as no one he hunts ever sees him coming until he shoves the barrel of his Chemical throws in their face. No one know why he joined he just showed up A few days after Doc join

Looks: No one can tell what he looks like as he is constantly wearing his Hazmat suit and his tail that ended in a chemical thrower.

Weapons: Chem body is a chemical lab . He also has several different types of traps and explosives he uses to weaken his prey like trip mines, claymore, thermite grenades acid bombs. He has a grenade launcher in his left arm. An in his right arm is a flamethrower and chemical thrower in his tail

Personality: Chem is a mute that scares everyone in one way or another. Do to no one being able to see his face. As well as he moves around quietly around the mall spooking anyone that stumbled upon him. He is also the straight man of his team keeping Doc and Fritz in check when they start getting out of hand.

Fritz is a walking talking arsenal mixed with Mike Tyson as he likes to get up close and personal with their targets. They’re also a Giant standing about eighteen feet tall. Making them is too big for a normal A.I to run the body with out problems. So JCJenson had the bright idea to put three different A.I inside the body to make them run properly. But all three fought for control of the body which caused all three to destroy each other leaving their fragments to coalesce into Fritz. Which made an A.I strong enough to run their body but it left them mentality unstable. Fritz was on several teams before dread and all of those teams didn’t last long as they would normal be kill of by Fritz who doesn’t care about friendly and sometimes they just killed them for fun. Fritz was the closest to killing everyone in the family and killed four members already them being Delta who was the third member of Gamma’s and Bate’s team. P and Q who were W teammates and S who was the sole survivor of his team until they were caught alone by Fritz. An the only reason they stopped was because Uzi and Doc had made a Inhibitor chip that somewhat calmed them down just enough so they would stop attempting to kill everyone.

Looks: Fritz is a hulking brute that was build to look imposing and inspire fear. So they based their armor off the knight templar minus the cross. Their armor was a dark Cobalt blue their eyes were a bright crimson red. The didn’t have a normal face just their helmet and outside of their Armor Fritz looking like a skeleton wearing a helmet

Weapons: Fritz as dozens of different weapons from Gattlen guns , flame throwers, Rocket launchers a super heated blades, a Tesla cannons, Harpoon gun, Plasma cannons, Pulse rifle, Sound Cannons and a E.M.P cannon and those are just in their arms. On their right shoulder they have a rail gun or a six slot Rocket battery. On their left shoulder is a high powered Laser or a small Anti Air Gun. In their left leg they had a mortar and in their right was mine launcher. Their back was heavily armored so they had no weapons there but they did have a powerful magnet installed so if anyone tried to attack from behind they would find themselves stuck to Fritz back. Followed by them being crushed when Fritz decides to fall on there back with all their weight. In their feet they have Anchor spikes that are meant to be used as a way to keep them steady when using any of their stronger fire arms

Personally: They maybe Insane but that doesn’t make them stupid. Fritz in possible the smartest member of the group seeing as they are made up of the fragments of three different A.I. But beside that they tends to Ramble off Company Buzzwords, Killing everyone there and sometimes they speak in binary Code that Uzi has tried to decode it but the only thing she could figure out were the Names Nell and Integra and the phrase first born to be free.

If anyone as a question about team dread or any of my other Ocs. The ask box is open

#Murder Drones #murder drones oc

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iloveyou3thousand · 4 years

Text

what he’d been missing

Pairing: Starker Rating: Explicit Word count: 2668 A/N: This was written for the @starkerkink Kink Exchange, for @iammagicfishhook who asked for some monsterfucking. I really hope you like it!!

Tags/TWs: explicit sexual content, werewolf Tony and human Peter, werewolf sex, werewolf anatomy, belly bulge, knotting, rimming, bottom Peter

Read it on AO3 here!

—————————————————————————

It had taken them a little while, but they had finally figured it out.

Before they had gotten together, Peter had one day found out that Tony wasn’t like most people he knew. It had been entirely by accident, had happened only because Peter had been up later than usual working on a project. By chance, his extra sensitive hearing had picked up on something stalking the compound and he’d gone to investigate, only to find a large beast roaming the compound grounds.

That could have been that. The compound was in the middle of nowhere, after all, surrounded by woods that stretched for miles upon miles – the animal could have stumbled upon the building and gone to investigate.

Peter had quickly found out that the intruder hadn’t come from elsewhere, though. He’d come from within.

Weeks later, after dancing around each other for months with neither of them brave enough or confident enough to be the one to take the first real step forward, they got together with a kiss that was about as accidental as Peter finding out that Tony was a werewolf.

Tony allowed Peter to be nearby during his shifts, from that moment on. Peter had already seen him change before, had been near in the past, had seen him and approached him and gotten to know him a little better, in a sense. But now that they were together, it felt almost like it was more serious. Like being there during the full moon carried more weight than it did before.

And it did. Unbeknownst to the both of them, at least at first, the fact that Peter was there almost every time Tony shifted, changed something in the wolf’s biology. He had always responded differently to Peter, but that was only getting worse with every shift. On the outside, it didn’t appear like it had changed much, but on the inside, every time Tony shifted, he grew more and more restless to the point where even Peter started to notice it in his behavior.

Tony would always come up to Peter and push his head against the younger man’s hand for some quick affection, but that grew into a firmer push, a more demanding gesture, with Tony not leaving until he’d nearly pushed Peter to his ass and could rub himself against the other without fear of Peter getting away.

He also started grooming Peter, almost as if he were one of his own, as if he were a wolf, too. Or he would get snappy at anything and everything that could possibly pose a threat to Peter, from a little wild rabbit showing its little face at the edge of the woods to Happy’s car returning from the city to bring Pepper back and forth even just passing them by.

Peter tried not to think about it too much, but the growling and the protectiveness and the restlessness grew worse and worse every time, to the point where he just had to bring it up with Tony.

It took them a while and some help from Bruce to figure out that since getting together, Tony’s hormones had been all over the place. It’s what had been causing the change in his attitude, and the fierce protectiveness. According to the tests they’d done, Tony already viewed Peter as his true mate, even though that connection could never be truly mutual because Peter was human and he didn’t have the kind of senses to pick up on and return that.

At least it helped them in finding a solution.

Going forward, they started trying whatever they could to reassure Tony’s wolf that Peter was his and his alone, and that nothing would ever come in between them or sever the bond they had built. It seemed to work at first, with Tony calming down and resting quite peacefully with Peter during another one of his shifts, but then it came back again. And it came back with twice the force.

When it started to get potentially dangerous for Peter, they both knew that they were approaching desperate times, and thus would have to try and implement some desperate measures.

Luckily, Peter still had a little trick up his sleeve.

When he told Tony, Tony was skeptical. He was worried, for Peter, afraid of hurting him. But Peter countered wisely that if they didn’t try this as a last resort, if this didn’t work, then Tony would end up hurting Peter on accident anyway without there being anything that could stop him. That terrified Tony more than anything else.

All in all, Peter’s plan seemed like the lesser of two evils. (Actually, it didn’t seem like a bad idea at all, but Tony refused to admit that the thought of mounting Peter properly got him so riled up that he had to excuse himself every time he even so much as thought about it.)

The following full moon, they were all set.

In the hours leading up to Tony’s inevitable shift, they lay down together. Peter showered Tony in attention that made him visibly preen already, his instincts close to taking over, but the moon wasn’t quite high enough for him just yet. The younger man passed him a bottle of lube and Tony quietly reconfirmed that he was still sure about this. Peter smiled, cupped Tony’s cheek, and kissed him.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” he promised, although it didn’t do enough to soothe Tony’s anxiety. He was afraid of hurting Peter, afraid of putting his claws where he shouldn’t, or pushing him too far, or forcing him into something that he didn’t want to do. But Peter had been so reassuring, constantly validating Tony’s feelings and fears and acknowledging that it was going to be scary, but it was going to be alright. They just had to do this once to figure out how it all worked, and then they’d be good as gold.

Tony had to trust his instincts. Hopefully, his instincts would serve him right.

By the time Tony’s skin buzzed beyond discomfort and he’d slowly spread his baby open on his fingers, Peter gave him a kiss and told him to go and do what he had to. Tony’s feet could barely hit the carpet on the floor next to the bed or he’d already shifted, shaking out unruly, brown fur, and immediately catching a whiff of something sallow.

The lube.

His mind took a second to catch up, but then he whipped around, and there Peter was; lying on the bed, watching the wolf on the ground, something scared but excited in his eyes. Beyond that thick smell of artificial slick, Tony could smell Peter, could smell the arousal on him, and it was like something clicked.

This was what he’d been missing.

“Hey Tony,” Peter said softly, almost tentatively, as if he wasn’t sure if Tony’s mind had caught up with the wolf yet, but it had. Intelligent eyes rose to meet the younger man’s gaze, and Peter’s expression eased into a soft smile. Without further ado, while Tony was watching, Peter pushed himself up onto his hands and knees to put himself perfectly on display, almost teasingly.

Tony was on the bed in a flash, the mattress dipping beneath the wolf’s heavy weight. He had to find his balance first, unused to being on the bed in this form, but quickly managed when there was another task at hand.

He immediately pushed his muzzle up against Peter’s hole, slick and shiny with lube, stretched rim twitching gently under the soft puffs of air when Tony scented and snuffled. Peter giggled, and dropped his head to his forearms.

“Tickles,” he complained, but really it was only mildly bothersome because it was new, something Peter had never experienced before, and he wasn’t sure what to expect yet.

Definitely not the broad tongue that followed Tony’s huffy breaths, lapping in one long, broad stroke up Peter’s taint and across his glistening hole. Peter’s breath immediately caught in his throat and he let out a choked sound of surprise, but didn’t try to move away. Once he got past that initial oddness, it actually… It actually felt really good.

He moaned when Tony didn’t hesitate to do it again. And once more after. And yet again. Peter’s cock between his legs had already fully filled out by the time Tony changed tactic by pressing his muzzle up against Peter’s hole and pushing his tongue past the tight ring of muscle and into his body, which opened up and welcomed the intrusion like it was meant to.

Peter shuddered on the spot, cock twitching, the long tongue reaching places inside him that he wasn’t sure anyone had reached before. Not like that. Tony had sure tried, had taken him in his lap and pound into him before, and it had been an otherworldly experience, but even that didn’t compare to this.

And they had only just gotten started.

When Tony was satisfied with the job he’d done and left Peter’s hole sloppy and wet, he moved away, much to Peter’s dissatisfaction. The young man looked over his shoulder to see what Tony was doing, and caught him with his head between his legs, licking at the fiery red length that was slipping out from the sheath at Tony’s lower belly. He lapped at it as if to encourage it, to slick it up, ready to bury it into Peter’s waiting body.

Astounded by the size he’d just laid his eyes upon, Peter turned back when Tony shifted once more, keeping his eyes forward to try and help himself relax once again. Something so big would never fit inside of him. It simply couldn’t. And yet when Tony mounted him, large front paws on either side of Peter’s ribs and his large tongue lapping soothingly against the back of his neck, Peter realized he was just going to have to take it.

“Be gentle,” Peter reminded Tony almost frantically, his voice a higher pitch than usual. Tony paused for a moment, and then licked the back of his ear as if to say ‘I hear you, I’m listening, I promise’. And then Tony lined up.

Peter’s body opened up for the pointed tip of Tony’s cock like it was the easiest thing, the wolf’s saliva easing its way. It was warm, and smooth, and big, but Peter took it silently, wordlessly, without complaint, until the very beginnings of the knot that Tony had warned him about countless of times nudged up against his stretched out rim and the wolf had successfully buried all of himself inside the human.

Peter let out a shuddery sigh, relaxing slowly with the soothing little licks to the back of his neck and his hair. Grooming. Tony had been doing that for a while, and it still helped Peter relax, inexplicably. But right now he couldn’t have been more glad.

Especially when Tony started moving not long after.

And it seemed that once he got a taste of it, that cautious approach he’d started out with was thrown out the window. The first few thrusts were relatively shallow, patient, careful – but Tony sped up quickly, putting that massive strength in his hind legs to good use to force himself in and out of Peter faster, quicker, rougher. Every thrust knocked the air out of Peter’s lungs but the overwhelming pleasure that came with the quickening pace left him without the ability to breathe anyway, so it didn’t matter.

Peter grabbed at the bedsheets, the only leverage he had against the rough thrusts that almost lifted him up off his knees every time, shaking the bedframe. Tony panted into Peter’s ear, hot and humid, occasionally darting his tongue across a stray drop of sweat that gathered on the back of Peter’s neck.

The younger man was useless beneath the wolf, just trying to keep himself on his knees, speared on Tony’s cock, tossed about with the force of the thrusts. He was strong, stronger than most human beings, but he had never felt more like a ragdoll than he did while Tony was fucking into him like that.

And he liked it. God forbid, he liked it so much that he came without touching himself, without even knowing that he did, floating on endless, overwhelming waves of pleasure that every harsh thrust brought with it.

They became more ragged and irregular by the second, and Peter knew that it would soon be over. He already missed it, even though it hadn’t even ended yet. But he was in for one more surprise.

Tony’s knot had already grown to the size of a relatively small apple, sitting at the base of his cock, nudging Peter’s hole with every other thrust, just begging to be let inside. It slipped in occasionally, much to Peter’s pleasure, that sudden, extra stretch and extra couple of inches deep within him rushing him closer and closer to a second orgasm.

And when Tony finally fitted all of it inside of him, and Peter could feel it rapidly start to increase in size, tugging at his already stretched out rim – that’s what did it for him the second time around.

Peter quickly brought a hand down between his legs to stroke himself through his orgasm, moaning and keening and writhing beneath the wolf as the knot grew and grew, sealing them together to be followed up with a load buried so deep inside Peter’s body that it had the younger man feeling more bloated than he ever did before.

He pressed a hand to his stomach, panting, marveling at the feeling, and froze up when he felt the deformation on his belly. He pressed against it, and Tony above him whined, his massive cock twitching inside him and filling him with another load.

Peter smoothed his fingertips over the bulge under his skin again and again, the thought of Tony so deep inside him that it could do that nearly sending him over the edge again, but his cock was still weakly twitching from his last orgasm. Although Peter wouldn’t be surprised if he would be good to go again in seconds. Not with the enormous knot tugging at his abused rim.

The large wolf collapsed on top of Peter, and he groaned under the weight, constricting around Tony. Instantly, Peter noticed the change. He hadn’t seen Tony this sedated, this sated or happy or satisfied in a long time, not while in his wolf form. Not to mention the affection that followed, the grooming and the playfulness, all so unhurried.

Peter praised the wolf softly, reaching a hand over his shoulder to pet his head and compliment him for his behavior and his patience. They were stuck together for a while, but even after, Tony was a different wolf.

He cleaned Peter up and made sure the young man got comfortable before he lay down with him and looked up at him with those big, doe eyes full of adoration, as if their spiritual bond had just been confirmed tenfold.

And really, Peter would be lying if he didn’t…kind of feel it too.

Or maybe he was just seeing things.

“I’d say that worked, didn’t it?” Peter murmured sleepily, combing his hand through Tony’s fur. He received a lick in return, which in wolf speak must have been something agreeable. Peter was sure that if Tony had been able to speak, he would have said so too. And he would have likely suggest they go for another round.

And hell, it only took Peter a little while to recuperate from his first time taking Tony’s wolf cock. Before too long, he was already toying with the sensitive sheath on Tony’s lower belly with a mischievous grin, watching the pointed tip of his cock slip out slowly.

If Tony could have raised his brows, he absolutely would have.

But he’d be crazy if he was going to say no.

#StarkerKink2020 #starker #ironspider #Peter Parker/Tony Stark #tony stark x peter parker #starker fanfic #my fanfic #my writing #werewolf au #nff #aus #tw knotting #tw belly bulge #look at me posting something again wow it's been ages #in my defence i lost my job so I've been busy welp

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the-melting-world · 3 years

Text

The Empress | Side B: “The Fear”

Art by @markmefistov

~ In which a humble gardener opens Strength’s Door…

The Trio Appearances: Kipling | Khleo | Ozy

Arcana LI appearances: Asra | Nadia | Muriel

Track Origins: “The Fear” by Ben Howard

Not sure if this is the right track? The full album can be found here: The Empress

cw: none

~ 2k words

After Kipling, Ozy, Nadia, and Asra return from the underwater library, Ozy leaves Kipling with the gauntlets, reminding her that he still has to show her how to permanently unlock her third eye.

“Trust me, Kip,” Ozy said with a reassuring smile, “once your third eye is open, you’ll have a much better time navigating the portals.”

With that Ozy let Nadia escort him back inside the Palace. Earlier in the library, he and Kip had agreed to save their lesson in grey magic for the next day. Kipling appreciated Ozy’s patience with her. She could tell he wanted her to be as comfortable as possible before they started unpacking everything from the past.

She was grateful to him for that.

***

(Nadia’s POV)

Nadia walked with Ozy back to his chambers. When they arrived, she waited by the door while he removed his gauntlets and set them aside on the dresser. Nadia wasn’t sure why she hadn’t yet left the grey mage to his business. Her agenda was packed with meetings with foreign dignitaries and not to mention she had a desk full of letters that needed responding to.

And yet, there were other things clouding Nadia’s mind. Like intricate spiraling details across a pearly, artificial surface that stretched so far in every direction.

“That machine in your library,” Nadia said, starting quietly at first. “The one underwater. Is that where it’s meant to be kept?”

After Ozy took off his gauntlets, he rolled his wrists a few times and walked back towards the Countess.

“The Nautilus? Yes, that’s its primary function – traveling through water. Makes it easier for deep sea exploration.”

This piqued Nadia’s interest even further. “A vessel that never needs to surface?”

Ozy was standing before the Countess now, his expression friendly and eager to keep engaging with her on the topic.

“It does! But not often.”

Nadia hummed. “I see. Like a whale. Or a turtle.”

A soft glimmer flashed behind Ozy’s eyes, as if he were thinking of the same comparisons.

“Yes. Exactly.”

Nadia, who was content to invite Ozy to walk with her, said, “That’s fascinating, Oz. What an incredible find.”

Ozy fell into an easy stride beside the Countess, his hands tucked comfortably in the pockets of his crisp pants. “Hm. Thank you, but I didn’t stumble upon that vessel. You did.”

“What do you mean you…” Nadia slowed to a stop. Ozy mirrored her and turned so that he was facing her, his lip quirking in what she read as a hopeful challenge. That’s when Nadia quickly assembled the pieces of his implications.

“Oz… do you mean to suggest that you built such a thing?”

Ozy looked off to the side rather sheepishly as he shrugged his shoulders.

“Abaco helped.”

Once again, the grey mage had left the Countess at a loss for words.

As if to put her at ease, Ozy added, “I built a lot of things over the years, Countess. Fixed a lot of things.” His hazel eyes drifted skyward. “Broke a lot of things too now that I think about it.” His hand wandered up to absently scratch at his five o’clock shadow. “Mostly because I ran out of stuff to fix. Not really any other option in that case but to break some things. Otherwise I wouldn’t have…” Ozy’s speech turned into uninterrupted mutterings.

Nadia realized he would have never stopped if she hadn’t said, “Oz, please.”

That was enough to call back his attention.

“As long as you’re here,” Nadia reached for both of Ozy’s hands, “I want you to call me Nadia.”

Ozy looked down at where she held lightly onto his long fingers, and then back up again.

“Oh. Like Asra and Kipling do?”

Nadia gave a deliberate nod. “Yes.”

Ozy blinked, the confusion written plainly across his face. “But they’ve known you longer.”

The Countess shook her head. “I know it might seem strange, but that does not matter to me.”

The grey mage was silent for only a moment before he grunted in gentle understanding. He pressed his rather nimble fingers more firmly against Nadia’s.

“You’re ambidextrous,” Ozy noted. “Like me.”

Nadia couldn’t help her face from heating slightly at his observation.

“You’re correct about that.... How did you know?”

Ozy continued to test and trace his fingers around the Countess’.

“These hands have solved a lot of puzzles. To the point where it’s impossible for them to ignore the details in fact. So… Nadia,” he locked eyes with her, his gilded lip curling into a soft smile, “what’s the story with your hands?”

Nadia grinned, trying to gauge the line where Ozy’s friendliness blurred into flirtation.

“I’m not sure if there’s a way I can express this without sound like I’m bragging, but my hands do know their way around a workshop.”

Once again, Ozy’s eyes lit up. “A workshop, really? Will you show me?”

Nadia gently guided her hands out of Ozy’s and up around his bicep, linking her arm through his.

“I can take you there, but I won’t be able to join you again until late this afternoon. I have a city to help govern as you might have gathered.”

“Right.” Ozy said with a respectful nod. “You don’t have to worry about me, Nadia. I can always find ways to keep myself busy until you return.”

“Oh, Oz.”

Nadia thought back to that vessel, immense and pristine, resting at the bottom of a deep pool.

“I have no doubt about that.”

***

Kipling noticed that Abaco didn’t follow Ozy and Nadia when they left the garden. The bird was content to stay behind and play with Taro and Faust. There was something Kipling found soothing in watching the three familiars interact. So she sat there right in the grass next to a hedge of snowball viburnums.

Asra, who knew Kip’s behaviors very well by now, was happy to take a seat and curl up right beside her.

“Asra, there’s something I have to tell you.”

The magician breathed a sigh of relief, hoping that it wouldn’t show. He wrapped his arm around Kip’s shoulder and placed his other hand in her lap. “I’m listening.”

In the past, Kip had looked elsewhere, anywhere but directly at Asra, only occasionally flicking her gaze up to meet his. That wasn’t the case this time. Her syrupy brown eyes were fixed on him as she spoke. She seemed determined to give him her full attention.

“When you came by Muriel’s cottage, did he tell you about the reading he gave me?”

Asra swallowed. “Yes. But only a little. He said you drew the Empress.”

“Reversed,” Kip clarified. “I’ll be honest. I’ve been neglecting to tell you the whole truth about Ozy and Khleo… well, Khleo specifically.”

“You don’t talk about them much,” Asra noted. He also didn’t miss how Kip’s eyes would glaze over whenever Ozy mentioned the umbra’s name.

Kip sighed. “I’m ready to talk about them now. Asra, I knew Khleo for a long time before meeting Ozy. They kept my secrets, they were the one I confided in whenever I needed it. When Ozy came around and I didn’t want to have anything to do with him, it was Khleo who taught me about kindness and acceptance. I don’t think I can explain how close we were…”

“You loved them. You still love them.”

Kipling could tell by Asra’s tone that he must have known all this time.

Kip took a moment to work out the tremors in her upper body. Asra squeezed her hand in reassurance.

“We never confessed it aloud, but the day that Khleo was taken by the Door, I was so sure that they were going to say it first.” Kip caught a sob. “There just wasn’t enough time.”

Asra pulled Kip until her face rested against his collarbone. He removed his red scarf and wrapped it around her shoulders. By now the three familiars had gathered onto both of their laps. Taro was determined to soothe Kipling with her head nuzzles and soft chirps.

While Asra rubbed her spine, Kip managed to choke out, “When I portaled to Strength’s gate, I saw Khleo and those feelings were still there, Asra. I don’t know what to do. I know I’m supposed to go see the Empress, but I want… all I can think about is…”

“There was something else Muriel told me,” Asra said. “On the morning you left, the ground all around his cottage was covered in daisies. They could have only come from you. He said there were so many of them, magically conjured to stay in bloom for much longer than normal.”

“Daisies,” Kip sniffed. “They were in Strength’s realm too.”

“Well, they’re all around us right now.”

Kip opened her eyes and sat up. Asra was right. The magical daisies had appeared in the garden. There were thousands of them, packed so tightly it was almost impossible to see the grass.

It wasn’t unnatural for Kip’s green magic to behave in this way. Most of how she managed it was based on her emotions. But she had never seen anything like this.

“Kip,” Asra said, “what if you used the daisies to find your way back to Strength’s realm?”

She tore her eyes away from the flowers and looked at the magician with a mixture of uncertainty and surprise. “You think I should go to Strength’s realm? Without Ozy?”

Asra nodded, his lavender eyes serious. “I’ll go with you.”

“But what if–”

“It was you who said that you can’t bring yourself to meet the Empress right now. What if drawing that card means that you have to face your feelings about Khleo before moving forward?”

Kip’s drew a heavy breath. There were so many what ifs. What if Khleo didn’t remember her? What if Strength tried to bite her head off again? What if…

“Kip.” Asra placed his hands on either side of her face and steered her into a kiss. “I’ll be there with you. We fought the Devil, remember. We can pay Strength a visit. We’ll come to the front door this time instead of dropping out of nowhere. If she doesn’t want to let us in, then she won’t.”

When Asra put it like that, the stakes didn’t seem so high.

Brrrrr.

Kip looked down to see Taro holding up her new pair of gauntlets. Faust bobbed her head in encouragement and Abaco fluffed his feathers once before using his beak to flick a switch on the gauntlet so that it hummed to life.

Once Kipling had donned them and stood up, she took a deep breath and did her best to rely on what she knew. To her amazement, the gauntlets made it so much easier to detect the control pad that opened the Doors.

Kipling activated the invisible motherboard and gasped when she saw more daisies growing spontaneously in the air. They shot off a few feet to Kip and Asra’s left, circled once and then again in a double ring – the outline of a Door.

“That must be the way to Strength’s gate,” Asra whispered.

Kip’s gauntlets gave a sharp whine as she felt them tug her towards the highlighted portal. Asra followed behind Kip as she drifted in that direction. Abaco flew ahead, tweeting madly and whizzing to the path of the daisies.

Kipling reached out until she connected with the lever handle to the Door. She found it easily, as if a magnetic force linked her gauntlet to the portal.

Then Kip pushed until the lever rotated. The Door squeaked as it opened. That magnetic tug was back, but this time it wanted to get away from Kip. She tentatively released the lever and watched as the door snapped open. Wider, wider, wider –

“You have to lock it, Kip!”

Kip gasped at the memory of a younger Ozy hollering at her while a storm grew over their heads. This sparked a second memory of a Door that grew too great for any of them to handle. She couldn’t let that happen again.

Kip glanced over at Asra and remembered. She would never let another Door take off with someone she cared about.

Her gauntlet glowed brighter. Kip listened to the hum…

The gardener caught the lever before it could get away from her and spin completely out of control. She sensed a new type of pull and followed it, anchoring the lever into a small depression that wasn’t visible to the naked eye.

Glittery light sparked all along Kipling’s knuckles. Abaco was absolutely delirious with excitement. The daisies dissolved, but there was water on the other side of the Door, churning smoothly, without turbulence.

Through the tunnel of seawater and shimmering light, Kip felt the call of clear summer skies and rolling hills blanketed in wildflowers.

#arcana albums: the empress #arcana albums #the arcana #kipling the apprentice #ozy the grey mage #asra #asra alnazar #nadia #nadia satrinava #my writing #the arcana fanfic #the arcana fic #asra the arcana #nadia the arcana

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bokoutoe-retired · 3 years

Text

— setups, haunted houses, and confessions

characters; daichi sawamura, gn! reader

synopsis; after being set up by sugawara, a pining captain and a smitten team manager stumble their way through a very unplanned ‘date’

total w/c; 2154

warnings; a little mentioned of (implied) fake blood, and i mention clowns and zombies like once, just some normal haunted house stuff. otherwise nothing but awkward pinning here

「 a/n 」 requested by @girlontumblur! so i obviously failed at getting this out like i wanted (i went back and edited last minute smh) 😔🤚 but it’s here now! 😼😼 and i hope this does decent because although it doesn’t flow as well as i wanted it to, i still kinda like it lmao. anyways, daichi simps unite 🤝 enjoy!

you honestly should’ve known something was up the second sugawara approached you after practice with a sly grin plastered on his annoyingly pretty face. you should've known when everyone texted the team group chat with last minute cancelations or excuses for running late. and you definitely should’ve known when daichi was the only one you found sitting at the planned meeting spot. but, you didn’t and neither did he.

now you two were sat alone on the small blue bench. daichi had one of his hands tucked into the pocket of his thick army green jacket and the other hand scrolling through the same group chat you were looking at minutes prior. the two of you had agreed to wait for a little in hopes that maybe one or two other team members might show up. but unbeknownst to either party, both of you also hoped someone would show up and save you the pain of embarrassing yourself in front of the person you had been pining after for nearly three years. daichis phone pinged, interrupting the awkward silence. it was a text from suga and daichi can feel the tips of his ears grow warm as he reads the message;

have fun on your date! ;) -suga

of course it was suga. he shouldn’t have expected anything less from his scheming vice captain. how he got the whole team to go along with it, is a mystery he decides to leave for another day when he hears you speak up from your spot next to him.

“is anyone else coming?” he’s thrown out of his thoughts when he feels you nudge his shoulder with yours and sees you nod to his phone. he quickly turns it off and pockets it before he turns his attention to you completely.

“i don’t think so, asahi was the last one to check in and he just canceled,” he sighs and shoves his other hand in his pocket. you two have been close friends for years, but a few recent incidents, (perhaps incited by suga now that he thinks about it…) have left you walking on eggshells around each other. all in attempt to not admit your feelings, the same feelings that are completely obvious to everyone except yourselves.

“oh.. well, i don’t mind if you don’t?” you wring your hands together in your lap as you look at him.

“yeah, yeah of course not. we’re already here aren’t we?” he gives you that big, warm smile you love so much. it’s practically infectious as you feel a wide grin spread across your face too. “lets go, yeah?” he stands up from the bench, and doesn’t hesitate to offer you his hand. you happily allow him to help hoist you up off the bench, but have to resist the urge to intertwine your fingers with his.

the walk to the pumpkin farm and haunted house combination is only about fifteen minutes, but the awkward silence from before is gone. replaced by comfortable conversation about your responsibilities as team captain and manager respectively, funny stories about your friends or talk about your shared classes. you’re so involved with the conversation neither of you notice the way you walk with your shoulders pressed together. maybe it’s a subconscious pull to one another or maybe just an attempt to escape the chill of the late fall air.

upon your arrival, you can see the towering entrance archway, made of large sticks and corn stalks. built up into a curve with twinkle lights woven throughout. it welcomes you into the family owned farm turned halloween attraction. underneath the arch, families enter and exit, some with children in their costumes and some with parents carrying pumpkins. some young couples and teenage friend groups pass through as well. the small apple cider stand surrounded by hale bales emits that sweet spiced scent that so perfectly encapsulates autumn.

the original “plan” as stated by suga was to just go through the haunted house together and get some food together, just some team bonding. but without the lovable burden of the entire karasuno volleyball club with you, it’s easy for you and daichi to leisurely make your way around the entire farm and participate in all of it’s available activities. you made your way through a hay bale maze together. it may have been meant for children but you had fun regardless, laughing when you got separated and teasing each other when you hit a dead end. you got the treat of watching daichi attempt to bob for apples, and get nothing except for a slightly damp shirt collar.

you even purchased a bag of animal feed for you and daichi to share. you went around petting and feeding goats and a few chickens. at some point you reached into the small brown paper bag right when daichi did. your fingers brushed his and you both pulled back like you had been burned. each of you flusteredly spitting out apologies, until he takes a deep breath, chuckles and shakes head, telling you not to worry about it and it’s no big deal. his strong voice and calm words are a stark contrast to his worried apologies just seconds earlier, but it’s enough for you to relax and continue on with the afternoon.

eventually, daichi leads you to sit down across from him at a wooden table and you’re quick to fall into comfortable conversation. all while the warmth of the apple cider he had just bought you seeps into your fingers and keeps them warm.

if you didn’t doubt yourself so much, you would’ve thought this felt exactly like some sort of date happening. the two of you together, spending time doing things any real couple would. at the same time, similar thoughts raced through daichis mind. he thought about how much this must look like a date to any people passing, and how much he really did wish that was the case. to be able to call you his own and take you out on cute dates like this whenever you wanted. too concerned with his cheeks dusting red at the thought, he fails to notice the similar blush presenting itself on your face.

it’s so easy to get caught up as you keep talking with daichi, you don’t notice the sun starting to set and you don’t even catch him gazing at you with that soft look in his eyes.

you crack a joke during your story about some of tanaka and noyas shenanigans and he laughs. he laughs this hearty, bright laugh that makes your chest tighten and your own smile widen. i’d like to make him laugh like that for the rest of my life you think.

“you know, i’m a little relieved. with the entire team here it would’ve been hectic to say the least,” he lets out another laugh at the thought of the whole club wreaking havoc on the poor farm, “and you know… i’m glad i got to spend time with you too. it was nice and i’m having a really good time” his soft smile is just as sincere as his words.

“i did too, daichi. thank you for today, i really had fun” you smile back at him and take a sip of your cider.

“ah ah! don’t say thank you yet, y/n. we’ve still got one last thing to do,” he shoves a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the haunted house. from your spot at the table you can see the flash of the strobe lights and artificial fog trickling from the attraction. “maybe we should go get in line?”

you nod, and he once again offers you his hand to help you stand. and just like before you resist the nagging push in the back of your mind to just intertwine your fingers with his. you make your way over, tossing your empty cider cups into the trash as you walk.

you purchase your tickets, or more so daichi buys both of them despite you insisting it’s your turn to pay after he bought cider, and get in the line of about ten people.

“you know i didn’t really consider the fact i wouldn’t have the whole team to hide behind anymore” you rock and back and forth on your feet, as you hear a couple of screams echo from inside the house.

“what, is your captain not big and strong enough to protect you?” he teases while flexing one arm.

“oh stop it, you know what i meant” you playfully roll your eyes and poke him in the ribs right before he swats your hand away.

“just remember, if you take me out now you won’t have anyone to hide behind” by now the line has moved up and there’s only two or three people in front of you.

they group in front of you goes and suddenly you and daichi are up next. the front of the haunted house is decaying and covered in those sticky store-bought cobwebs. you drop your tickets in the box and with a wave of their hand an employee motions you forward into the entrance.

you make your way through the halls of the attraction, going through different themed sections. a circus tent full of crazed clowns, a bloodied butchers shop, and zombies kept back by chain fences. each hall comes with its own set of spooks and scares. creepy sound effects, banging on the walls all around you and air machines puffing air into your face. you don’t even attempt to hide your terror as you scream and even grab onto daichis arm. he lets out his own shouts of fear, but manages to put on his tough act at least partially. you notice him place himself in front of you slightly as you walk, the arm you cling to held in front of your body protectively, although there was no true danger. you’d probably think something of it if you weren’t too distracted by the adrenaline pumping in your veins. it’s not all scary though, a couple of daichis screams make you giggle and act as momentary distraction from your surroundings. a particularly high pitched yelp of his has you gripping the back of his shirt, doubled over laughing. but a loud bang that rattles the wall next to your gives you a start and you keep venturing forward through the house.

you think you’re finally in the clear when you're walking down the hall that leads to the exit off the back of the house. you see an employee dressed in all black at the end directing people around the side of the house and back to the front. but it’s only when you feel your heartbeat start to slow that you hear the chainsaw start and the screams of the group behind you and daichi. you’re heartbeat picks up again and out of pure instinct you lurch forward. you make it out the hall and into the small gravel field behind before you realize daichi still had himself in front of you. you’re too late to react and go barreling into him. the momentum brings both of you tumbling forward into the gravel. you land halfway on top of him but his reflexes are much better than your own and they help keep you from going too far. one arm keeps you from rolling and the other cradles your head to his chest to prevent you from hitting it. the loud buzz of the chainsaw fades as the actor chases the friend group around the side of the house for a short distance. you immediately sit yourself up and attempt to apologize between labored breaths.

“oh god, daichi. i- i’m so sorry, i just heard the chainsaw and i started moving. i didn’t even think. i understand now why you don’t like me back now. i’m so sorry” you hang your head in apology, not even registering the words that slip from your mouth in your scramble to say sorry.

“what?” he asks, stunned.

“...what?” you echo back slowly before the realization hits you hard. you struggle to spit out an explanation and you feel your face heat up, “i just meant-”

daichis look of shock morphs into a soft smile as he cuts you off with another one of his warm laughs and uses the hand at the back of your neck to pull you down. his lips meet yours in a kiss thats just as warm and solid as him. he pulls away after a moment only to rest your foreheads together and smile at you softly

“does that mean?” you breathe out, smiling back hopefully.

“yes, yes it does,” he chuckles and stands up from the ground. daichi offers you his hand one last time, you take it and pull yourself up. but unlike any previous offers, you don’t hesitate to lace your fingers with his.

#i know i said 4pm in my post #but i decided to wait a little for maximum exposure~#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu oneshots #sawamura daichi #daichi sawamura #daichi x reader #hq daichi #daichi sawamura x reader #daichi x you #daichi x gender neutral reader #daichi oneshots #haikyuu fic #anyways i'm so soft for him no one talk to me ;-;#haikyuu x reader oneshots

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