#//Both of them pushed by the adrenaline of a fight to lose their composure and go right to instincts | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

luminyxoxo · 8 months

Text

Miya Atsumu storms into the lobby of the curators’ office, blood stained, ripped uniform exposing cuts and limps.

His eyebrows are pinched together and his lips twists in a deep scowl.

In his hand, his katana is broken in half.

“Where the fuck is he?” He hisses, stopping right before the handler behind the desk.

Akaashi Keiji raises an eyebrow at his state but stays mum.

“‘M going to fuckin’ kill ‘im.” Atsumu snarls.

“It appears that your.. case was handled?” The handler tries.

Atsumu slaps down his broken katana onto the table but Akaashi doesn’t flinch at all.

“Miya-san, I must insist you leaving the premise if you keep losing your temper. I am merely the handler, the one managing your case. I am not the curator. I am not the one who assigned you.”

“Then, get Sakusa Kiyoomi out here right now!” Atsumu demands, his voice pitching high in impatience.

Akaashi releases a deep sigh, opens his mouth to try and appease the rattled hunter—

“What’s the problem here?”

Atsumu snaps his gaze in the direction of the elevators. The object of his anger approaches them.

The dark eyes that stare at him slits, like a cat’s. It only reminds Atsumu that his mortal life means nothing for magical creatures like Akaashi and the curator.

Atsumu shoves off the desk to stomp right in the high warlock’s face. Sakusa Kiyoomi, disturbed by their distance, takes a step back.

It makes Atsumu even angrier.

“Ya assigned me to a fuckin’ death trap, ya pompous scrub!”

“You’re still alive, Miya.” He deadpans.

Atsumu lunges and grabs Kiyoomi by his collars, catching the warlock off guard.

“Y’know—“ Atsumu starts, sounding more hysterical as seconds go by. “—ya and yer kind act high and mighty but ya need humans to clean yer messes!”

Kiyoomi’s face, or what part that can be seen that only be seen thanks to his mask, twist with discomfort but he doesn’t try to push the hunter away.

“We need you ‘humans’ to ‘clean our messes’ so other ignorant humans don’t panic and realize our existence.” He agrees, confused.

“Mortal hunters are already scarce yet ya sent me to a fuckin’ suicide mission. I could’ve died, Sakusa Kiyoomi.”

At his serious tone, Kiyoomi’s eyebrows shoot upwards as he carefully scans the injured state of the hunter, one of the best, if not the best of their agency.

“You’re alive.” Kiyoomi stresses, as if Atsumu dying on a case is impossible.

Atsumu would’ve felt flattered by the high praise on any other day but coming so close to death because of a terrible decision by his upper superior makes it feel like an insult instead.

“Ya sent me to that mission cause ya wanted me dead, right? I know you hate me, Omi.” Atsumu shoves Kiyoomi back.

The warlock doesn’t even trip, the epitome of composure. In comparison, Atsumu is a mess from hell.

It’s embarrassing.

Kiyoomi fixes his collars. “Yes, I did know that the case was more dangerous than usual but I didn’t know it would’ve been an issue for you, Miya.”

“What if I’d died, Sakusa?” Atsumu stresses.

The warlock blinks, taking in him again.

Atsumu is sure that he’s trembling, both from the overexertion and the declining adrenaline rush.

“Then, I would’ve come and save you.” Kiyoomi says, after a moment of silence.

Atsumu grits his jaw, unable to respond.

Instead, he throws his broken katana to Kiyoomi’s feet. The warlock glances down at it before looking at him again.

Atsumu doesn’t bother saying anything else, turning on his heels and booting out of the agency building without even looking back.

Atsumu knew what he signed up for when he got exposed to the supernatural world and joined the agency.

He’d been close to death so many times he’d lost count.

What made this different was that Kiyoomi purposely sent him there even though he would’ve been greatly outnumbered.

Atsumu could’ve died, and he would’ve left Osamu behind. His brother needs him, especially now more than ever.

He can’t die while Osamu is fighting for his own life in a coma.

His brother would’ve never forgive him. He would’ve never forgiven himself.

Atsumu will find the warlock who had put Osamu in a coma, and he cannot afford to die before then.

(Kiyoomi stares at the katana at his feet, ignoring Keiji’s burning stare.

He doesn’t understand the importance of the katana but he knows that it had been Atsumu’s priced posession.

He kneels and picks it up.

“Ah, did that Miya guy quit?” Someone peeks over his shoulder.

Motoya, his cousin, lets out a low whistle upon seeing the broken katana.

“You’ve outdone yourself, cousin. You’re not gonna get a great hunter like him ever again.”

Kiyoomi’s fingers close around the handle. Under his mask, he grits his teeth.

“I advice you to start asking for forgiveness, Sakusa-san.” Keiji says.

It was fortunate that there were nobody else but them in the lobby.

Motoya grins. “High and mighty warlock Sakusa Kiyoomi groveling? I’d pay to see that!”

Kiyoomi doesn’t deign him with an answer. He turns on his heels and stomps back to his office.

Stupid Miya, he thinks but he’s pulling out his phone to call their blacksmith, Daichi.

“Hey, do you think you can fix a katana for me?”)

#ao3 #fanfiction #sakuatsu #haikyuu!!#miya atsumu #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa x atsumu #haikyuu fanfiction #i watched a compilation of malec #so like #boom! idea #they’re enemies btw #cause i love enemies to lovers LMAO

33 notes · View notes

anotheranimestan · 4 years

Note

Heyooo I legit just found u bc of the bakugo series, and then I went on a spree reading your account- ugh I’m in love!!! Do you think you could tag me when part 3 comes out?

Ahhh! Thank you so much! ❤️ You guys have no idea how much a few words of encouragement means to writers 😭.

No need to tag tho because here it is!!!!! 😃

Sorry it took so long. I wanted to write it as best as I could! I don’t want disappoint anyone who’s been enjoying so far. ☺️

All Bark No Bite (pt. 3)

(Final part)

Bakugo angst + ~sexual tensionnn~

Please, children avert your eyes. Things get a LITTLE inappropriate here 😳

Read part 1 and part 2

wc: 2.4k

He’s an asshole...but he’s a HOT asshole 🤤

You’d never seen his room before. It was much different than you’d imagined. You’d expected burn marks all over the walls or blown up debris of things scattered about. Maybe a bunch of mirrors so he could look at his self-confident, conceited ass all night. But actually it was kinda of nice. Pretty neat. He had some posters hung up and some books laying around. Black sheets and blankets. And it smelled oddly sweet in here, sort of pleasant believe it or not.

You’re so used to him yelling and exploding so it was weird seeing him so relaxed, in his natural habitat. Doing normal things. Like eating a snack, tapping his pencil in concentration, fidgeting with his hair. He even spun around in his rolling chair a few times mindlessly. He was acting sort of...cute? It was unnerving being attracted to him like this.

But as soon as he noticed you watching him it was all over. You were making him self conscious. He didn’t even realize he’d let his guard down like that.

“That makes absolutely no sense, dumbass.” His voice was bored and over it.

“What are you talking about!? I’ve explained it three times!” You retorted indignantly.

“Exactly. I thought you were smarter than this...” He jabbed before turning around and flipping his notebook shut.

You’d spent twenty minutes attempting to teach him what he’d missed in class earlier today but he was insufferable. Easily the worst student on the planet. Every time you explained something he’d tell you how to teach it better. Who does that!?

“Whatever moron. I didn’t come up here to try and teach your pea brain. I—“ The words were harder to say than you’d expected. Painful actually. They really didn’t want to come out. “I just wanted to say sorry for getting you—“

He whipped a pencil and it hit you directly in the forehead.

“Ouch, what the fuck?” You hissed, rubbing the sore spot. How’d he get so much damn power behind that thing?

“Don’t apologize. It’s weird.”

“What!?” You threw the pencil back but only managed to hit his shoulder.

“Anyways...” He ignored you, completely unfazed by your assault.

“You’re easily the most—“

“Anyways...” You swore if he cut you off one more time you were going to smack the shit out of him. “Aizawa thinks you’ve lost your mind.”

The unexpected information took you aback.

“He saw you try and get yourself blown up in class yesterday... No sane person is stupid enough to pull a move like you did.”

Ah yes... he meant the time you wrapped the man’s hand around your neck, tauntingly, in front of like 20 classmates and two teachers. You’d been trying to avoid asking yourself the question of why you did that. You claimed it was the best way to shut him up....but there were other ways to do that. More reasonable ones. You wouldn’t admit you’d daydreamed of doing it before and subconsciously took the opportunity. Red embarrassment flashed through your body again. God knows what they were all thinking when they witnessed that. You desperately wished people would stop reminding you.

Suddenly the need to defend yourself bubbled up. “I—I only did that because I knew you wouldn’t do anything.”

He scoffed. But didn’t deny it. “If you’re going to try something stupid. At least do it right.” He chastised.

Your body froze as he stood up and walked over, crouching down directly in front of you.

“If I wanted to choke you. I’d do it like this.”

He wrapped his hand around your neck. Demonstrating the best way to actually cut off someone’s air flow. But he did it so gently you barely even heard his explanation. You were just flashing back to last night. Instantly your entire body lit on fire. Replaying this scene in your head was strong enough. But reenacting had you completely out of sorts. Kissing him again but this time going full out. You wanted to bite him, just to hear him make that deep moan into your mouth again. Just imagining it was making you flutter. Aching to have him pressed up against you like that, relieving some of this pressure that was building up in your body. You felt yourself unraveling. About to pounce.

But he interjected with something that stunned you once again. “The way you did it would be better for...other forms of choking.”

Dear god. Surely he knew what he was doing to you. If he kept this up any longer your heart or your lungs were definitely going to give out.

But you mustered up your last two brain cells that weren’t absolutely losing their shit over him and carried on with your normal banter.

“Yea yea, I get it. You can stop now.”

He didn’t budge. His hand still snug around your throat. You obviously didn’t mind it there but it was incapacitating your brain function.

You gently pushed it away and he didn’t resist. But where he put it next was no better.

He traced the side of your cheek and along the outline of your lips. Just staring at them, eyes lost like he was thinking deeply about something. He wasn’t giving you a moment of a break. No room to breathe.

Your nerves were through the roof, your heart was beating so loud you could hear it in your ears. Desperately you tried to change the topic. “So is this your attempt at being nice? Advice on how to murder someone?” It’s amazing how your mouth just spewed shit out even though your brain was actually dead.

“Sure.” Now he was tugging at your bottom lip. Completely unbothered by you baiting him.

“Ah. A nice Bakugo? I must be having a dream. I guess now that you’ve lost to me your whole tough guy persona has been killed.”

That snapped him out of it. But now he was looking just as intensely, directly into your eyes.

“Don’t push it.”

“Or what?” Faking composure was coming so easily much to your relief.

“Do you want to find out?” He growled.

“You’re not scary.” You said rolling your eyes as hard as possible.

Something snapped in him. He couldn’t hold himself back anymore. Within a moment he had you on your back. Your body didn’t even have time to process. Even if it did, would you have stopped him? He trapped both your wrists on either side of your head and your feet under his ankles. His arms looked glorious as he held up is body weight.

“How about now?” His voice was deep and savory.

There he went. Invading your mind again. His scent. That lust-filled look in his eyes. The way he was thoroughly enjoying being on top of you. The adrenaline was coiling through your body. He had you right where he wanted you. He could do anything he wanted to you. But that “annoying little mouth of yours” wasn’t done quite yet.

“Whatever. You always do this. But you won’t actually try anything.”

“You think I wouldn’t hurt you at all? I literally want to kill you sometimes.” He had a smug little grin on his face. But his eyes couldn’t pull themselves from your lips. After experiencing them once he could barely stop thinking about them.

“You’re telling me? I fucking hate you.” You lied.

It made his smirk form into that wicked, shit-eating grin he always wore. The one that gets deep under your skin and makes you want to punch him in the throat and yank him onto you at the same time.

“Kissing someone is a weird way to tell them you hate them.” He was really cutting into you now.

You hissed. “Hey. You kissed me.”

“You kissed me back.” He raised an annoying little eyebrow.

Your brain wanted to choke him (the murder kind) but your body was screaming something completely different. The emotions swirling around in your chest was so overwhelming. Finally you burst.

You trapped one of his arms and corresponding leg and threw your weight to roll on top of him. One of your favorite moves from self-defense class that you knew would come in handy. Now you straddled him and using every ounce of your weight tried to pin his wrists down.

You expected him to fight you like the vicious little monster he is. But instead when you looked down he was just staring back at you. You were stunned at how good he looked at this angle. Did he have any bad angles?

“Finally. You made a move.” He said pretending to sound impressed. “I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“Yea well...” You scoffed proudly. “you think you’re so fucking tough. Now looo—“

The words flew out of your mouth and you were tumbling again. This time he just grabbed your waist and tugged you with brute force. No technique needed. He easily overpowered you.

“Yea, that wasn’t going to work out. It was a cute try though, Little Bite.”

He laid directly on top of you now. Your legs spread as he rested his hips between them. His full weight pressed into you making it flutter. Your arms had somehow wrapped themselves around his neck and rested on his back.

The tension in the air made it difficult to breathe. But you were fully unconcerned with getting oxygen right now.

Nose to nose now he said “We’ll just count this as my rematch. Clearly I won.”

“You suck at flirting.”

Flirting? Where’d that come from?

“Seems like it’s working pretty good to me.”

That smug fucking face again.

“You’re such an ass.”

He bit his lip.

“Fuck...I love when you insult me like that.”

A beat passed and that was all it took. You smashed his lips onto yours. Wrapping your legs around him and squeezing. Too close wasn’t close enough.

He kissed you like he wanted you bad. Like you were his favorite meal and he was absolutely famished. It was so intense and passionate that neither of you could catch any air. Every insult, all the bickering, every jab had built up to this moment and was fueling it like gas to a forest fire.

His warmth was overtaking you. His body was so heavy, crushing you just liked you’d been daydreaming about all this time.

Your mind shut down all functions except desperately trying to use all five senses to their max capacity and commit every bit of him to memory.

He felt you pawing at the edge of his shirt and sat up. He peeled it off slowly. Letting your eyes adjust to every inch of him.

Your hands were instantly stroking every one of his muscles starting at his shoulders and trailing down his soft skin slowly...slowly to the edge of his jeans. Your index finger sat teasingly on the front button as you admired his perfectly toned body.

But before you even had time to think about what you wanted to do next he took your wrist and secured it down above your head again.

He dipped down and went straight for your neck.

Greeting it with a warm wet kiss from his tongue, his lips wrapped around your skin and sucked gently. You felt the blood pooled with pleasure rushing to the area. His other hand started exploring your body. Finally he was getting to put his hands on you the way he really wanted all along.

After you started tugging on his hair, desperately trying to avoid any scandalous hickeys he rolled you around again.

Letting you on top to straddle his hips. Giving you only a little bit of freedom though, as he locked one arm around your waist and the other started caressing your thighs slowly working his way north.

After squeezing your ass until his heart was content he clamped down both hands on your hips. You couldn’t bare it anymore. Your hips started gently grinding against him and you bit down on his neck all at once. You felt the angle of his pelvis rubbing into you creating little rumbles of pleasure.

“Fuck y/n..” he muttered under his breath.

You both were getting more and more bothered and aroused. His hands never stopped grabbing and tugging at you. His moans growing more fervent as he whispered into your ear.

He was just toying with the idea of peeling off your shirt when...

“THIS IS THE POLICE! COME OUT!”

Your soul practically rose out of your body as a loud bang almost broke the door down. Bakugo’s hand slapped over your mouth. You’d screamed without realizing it.

Kaminari’s laugh sounded through the door. “Oh my god Bakugo! You scream like a girl!”

Mina shrieked. “No, stupid! Y/n are you in there!?”

Your life was ending.

“Get the fuck out of here before I come out there and break your skulls!” Bakugo barked at them.

They didn’t say anything but you heard their quick footsteps as they ran down the hall still shrieking like banshees.

“Oh god..” you groaned as you tried to roll away from him, using his bare chest to push off.

But he wouldn’t let you go. “Where are you going?”

“Aren’t you going to go hunt them down and threaten them or something.” Typical Bakugo behavior.

“No, I’m busy.”

You had to stop your mouth from falling open.

“They’re probably going to tell everyone.” You prodded. Expecting his temper any second now. Like he was a bomb about to go off. You pulled away again in preparation, sitting fully upright now.

“I’ll deal with them tomorrow. I’m dealing with you tonight. Now get back over here before I get mad.”

You shrieked as he muscled you back into his arms. He bent you back around him as snugly as he could. Moving your chin to the side, he kissed your neck, sweeter this time. Instinctively your hands ran through his hair. Fuck the rest of them. You could get lost in this hot head all night. And you were as he started gently sucking on your soft spots again.

But he pulled away abruptly. Like he’d just realized something. “How are you gonna become a pro hero if a moron like Denki can scare you like that?”

You smacked the back of your idiot’s head lightly. “Don’t fucking ruin it.” You groaned.

“Fine.” He grinned as he went in for the kiss that started the rest your next piping hot and sticky couple of hours together.

~💥💥

TADAAA! What did you guys think?? What was your favorite part overall?

I’d love hearing your thoughts and opinions 😃 makes me a better writer

Also special shout-out to @jennammaee ! Pt. 2 of this series has been my most successful post yet, so thanks for encouraging me to write it!!

Tags: @sweetsailor000 @yumxmii @fullsundear @frosted-flakes @marloalmore @aprilbouz01 @deneuves @softestparker @davidbowiehotashell-blog @mocha-focha @piii-chan @v0dkadaddy @xxjosiexx

619 notes · View notes

mosshead-lover · 3 years

Text

Fights lead to Confessions as Hate leads to Love.

Levi Ackerman x Reader

Summary: You go over to your Captain’s to submit the work late at night. Only to get caught in the most unexpected turn of events.

Warnings : NSFW, maybe lil wild?

When you woke up from your what was supposed to be a tiny nap, It was already 10:30 PM. You curse yourself for dozing off. Luckily you were almost done with the work. Even so, you knew you had to face the captain's wrath. Lately, he had been dumping an unbelievable amount of paperwork on you. That too, after a whole day of training. Today's combat training was extra hard for you as he made you combat him till your limbs fell apart and this was after a dozen of laps that ware meant as a punishment for being slow during the warm-ups. But then, how could you keep up with the squad? You stayed up late to finish the paperwork that was due the next morning. He had strictly asked you to finish today's work by dinner. Your stomach grumbled. You wish you woke up at least in time for dinner. You bundled the papers and set off to submit them to him.

"Captain Levi"

You call out for him before knocking.

There was no reply. You call out again. Still, there was none.

A ruffle of chill wind moved the door slightly, making you realise that it wasn't locked. You decided to let yourself in, for, you had forgotten to wear your coat and, the slim uniform shirt did no good. Moreover, you couldn't afford to get the bashing in front of everyone in the morning. Better face the consequences in private.

"Um. What are you doing here?"

It was him. He had just gotten out of the shower and wore nothing but a towel around his waist. The reminiscent water droplets on his torso only added to the sexiness of his abs. Your heart skipped a beat, and you had to remind yourself to breathe. While you were at it, Levi's ice-cold eyes were set on your erect nipples which were the result of the weather(or not).

"Tch."

He let out an annoyed sigh. Immediately aware of what he was implying, you tried to cover your nipples with the suspenders. You were embarrassed. Though, ironically, he was the half-naked one. You quickly set down the file on the desk nearby and saluted.

"The work is done, sir."

"Good, Thought you were dead."

(What an ass!)

"I apologise for being late."

"Whatever. Kitchen duty every night for three weeks."

(Again!?)

You saluted and left. It took you everything you had to not smack him. After Levi shut the door behind you, You leaned back on his door and began thinking how exhausted you have been all these days. Physically and mentally. You didn't understand why he was so hostile towards you when, ever since you joined the cadet corps, all you ever tried to do was gain his appreciation. Heck, in fact, You joined the corps for him. Where did the captain that you had admired as a citizen within the walls go? Amidst all the chaos that went on in your head, You hated yourself for not being able to shake off the image of just-out-of-shower Levi.

Levi must have realised that you were still there. He opens the door without a warning and, you fall back into his arms. You quickly get up and stand straight.

"Were you fantasising having a piece of this, cadet?" He pointed at himself.

You were extremely embarrassed at his remark and couldn't take his shenanigans anymore.

"To me, it looks like the other way around, captain."

You smirked. You had had enough of him and, you spoke before thinking. Although, you immediately regretted it. Levi twisted your hand around and rammed you against the door, with your head sideways and left cheek pressing against the door. He positioned himself closer to your right ear.

"We are talking back now, aren't we?" He growled.

The words that escaped his mouth had nearly no impact on you compared to his breath against your skin.

"Should I punish you the old school way?"

A hint of naughty acquired his voice.

"Is that all you can do? So much for being The Levi Fucking Ackerman."

You kept your composure and pretended unintimidated when your inners went wild thinking of things that might happen.

"What did you just say to me?" He questioned in disbelief and utter shock.

"I SAID, LEVI FU..."

*Slam!* He slapped your buttocks hard.

"Come on, say it!"

He challenged you.

"FU..."

*Slaps you again*

You start taking deep breaths to calm your nerves down. And then your body reacts the way it shouldn't when he squeezes the part that was still hot from the slaps before. A jolt of pleasure passes through your body and, you let out a feeble moan in reflex.

Sufficed with his so called punishment,He lets your hand go and moves away.

"Leave."

He says in an indifferent tone. Although, the bump under his clean white towel was screaming something else. He immediately turns the other side and waits for you to obey him. But you weren't done.

You walk over to him furiously, grip his shoulder and forcefully turn him to face you. You push him against the table and position your dominant hand upon his groin as if to say, ’Move, and I will crush your jewels.'

Deep down, you knew Levi could easily turn the tables down without a scratch on his body. To your surprise, he gave in, resting his arms on the table and waiting for you to speak.

"Oh, Don't you dare imply this is one-sided."

You were perspiring from all the adrenaline rush and caught some breaths before continuing.

"Don't you think I know how you look at my back as I carry out the kitchen duty that you assign? Or when I bend over to clean the dust underneath the table, as you order me to?"

You were a tad satisfied as you began confronting your captain. Looked like he didn't want to take it anymore. He moved away from you in one swift move and used his leg to pull yours forward, making you lose balance and fall on the ground. He pinned you down and wasn't all that neutral anymore.

"It's a shame you think what I have for you is only physical. "

Before you could think, he tore your blouse with his strong arms, exposing more of your chest.

"Let me be what you think I am."

He affirms and holds you by the neck so you can't look away. He then bent down to devour you, as his other hand made its way down to your privates.

Your mind screamed ''It's wrong! Stop him" But, your body had already given in, swaying to the rhythm that his hand created down there. But, before he gained any more control over you, you had to say something. You push him away with all your might and sit up.

"It was you who portrayed my feelings as lust!" You almost scream in a teary voice. You take one deep breath and speak in a calmer tone.

"So, should I be what you see me as? "

You counter him and push him down as you throw his towel away. Levi lay bare naked. You sit on top and undo your remaining clothes, never once looking away. His eyes were locked to yours. You bend down, he meets you halfway and you both share one long kiss followed by several short ones. What started off slow gets hotter and furious with every second that pass. He runs his fingers down your torso as he sucks on your neck. You pull his head closer to your breasts as he began sucking and squeezing them. You lie back, throwing your arms on the ground as Levi pushes your legs apart. He seems proud at the sight of the flood that he solely caused. He resumes his work and goes down on you. This time you are not holding it back. You weren't fighting him anymore nor was he. You let out the most pleasant moans every time he hit the spots. His fingers and tongue worked magic on you. As he leads you to the peak, your legs are throbbing and urge to close down but he holds them away effortlessly. Finally, you release it and are in ecstasy, He trusts his hard rock sex into yours without giving you time to catch up. You didn't expect anything less.

"Oh! captain." You call him out on his move, followed by the sounds that could only be reactions to his thumping.

"Sssh, cadet y/n."

He bends down and kisses to shut you up while his other hand grabs your breasts. As the thumping picked up the phase, Levi groaned at every jerk against your tight walls. The wild noises that he let out only added to your pleasure. It was proof that he too had given in completely. He didn't worry about the thin walls of the camp anymore. You both take it to his bed and reach another climax, and three more before your mortal bundle of fleshes gave up. You stared at the ceiling wondering how tonight turned out. ’Tomorrow is uncertain’ You thought. Things could change or go back to normal. Either way, you will go back to being a superior and underling. This night could never happen again. You drifted to sleep with no expectations. Levi moved a strand of hair away from your face and looked at your peaceful resting face in admiration. He wondered why he was trying to push you away at all. He smiled at the thought of how this night could be the beginning of something new.

#levi attack on titan #levi x y/n #levi x reader #levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi x you #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot x reader #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan x you #aot anime #aot fanfiction #aot fic

324 notes · View notes

eldrai · 3 years

Text

Like Father, Like Son

Whumptober 2021 - day 2 - prompt: garrotte

Character: Hotch

Warnings: implied/referenced domestic abuse, implied/referenced child abuse, strangulation

Word Count: 1.5k

Summary: Vincent Perrotta is violent. He is dedicated. He is brutal and efficient. His potential pool of victims includes a handful of asphyxiation deaths.

He has nothing to lose.

ao3 link / masterpost

In cases of domestic violence, strangulation is one of the strongest predictors for homicide: a nonfatal strangulation incident makes the victim seven times more likely to be killed by that partner.

Of everything he’s learnt on the job, this stays with him.

Strangulation requires the physical strength to do so, as well as the intent. It’s much more personal than something like poisoning or even shooting and therefore more difficult to carry out. The same principle stands for any homicide. It indicates a deeply violent, deeply dedicated unsub.

(Is it inaccurate to say he learnt on the job? The exact statistics were new to him but he’d known how violent hands around a neck are. How it was never limited to just that.

He’d had a lot of ‘sore throats’ as a kid.)

Vincent Perrotta is violent. He is dedicated. He is brutal and efficient. His potential pool of victims includes a handful of asphyxiation deaths.

He has nothing to lose.

The junkyard is cluttered and their line of sight fragmented by the heaps of trash jutting out every which way; the impaired visibility has them spread out to cover the most ground. With backup waiting on their signal, everything is in place for Perrotta’s arrival.

It is a concentrated quiet: there isn’t much to do other than keep an eye out for their unsub or wait for the comms to crackle to life as someone else finds him. Aaron steps into place behind the rusted shell of a car; enough cover it isn’t immediately obvious he is there, but he’s got a good shot if Perrotta turns up.

His bet is on the man hopping the fence on the west, too clever to waltz through the front gate but arrogant enough to assume he’d outwit them. Morgan is positioned over there ready to intercept, and Reid and Greenaway take the small building at the opposite end of the yard.

“Anyone got anything?” Morgan’s voice comes through strong.

“Nothing on our end.” That’s Greenaway.

“He’ll be here,” Aaron says.

He settles back into position, both hands on his gun, carefully still. Wrappers rustle as the wind agitates them, whips dirt around on the chipped concrete. The chain-link fence rattles.

No movement.

He waits. Time slips by interminably slowly, as it tends to do on sting operations, with no distraction but nothing to be distracted from.

A rattling, tinny sort of noise to his left stops just as suddenly as it had started. Gun drawn, he picks his way through the junk. The silence settles in once again. Likely something blown loose in the breeze, a can rolling down the pile, any number of mundane things which shouldn’t register at all.

It’s a rat. In the corner of his eye, a blur of brownish-grey fur streaks past and he catches a glimpse of the tail before it vanishes under (into?) a different heap.

Jesus. He must really be bored if something so commonplace has him actually investigating it.

Gravel crunches and Aaron glances over his shoulder. Gideon must’ve heard it too. His main interest is his birds but he doesn’t doubt the man probably has a soft spot for other small creatures. They say rats are fairly intelligent – or is it mice? – after all.

His head jerks backwards.

Stumbling to maintain his balance, it is a dizzying moment before the pain sets in: a sharp pressure curving around his throat.

It throws him for a loop. He’s used to hands.

Aaron crashes into someone behind him and they stagger sideways. The impact knocks the air out of him. The pressure pulls taut.

He can’t breathe.

Shoes scuff against the ground. The sour smell of sweat. Heavy breathing.

(is this gonna be the time it goes too far is it feels like it)

The wire is thin and twice as effective as human hands. Instead of whittling away his ability to breathe, pressing in more and more and more, it disappears in an instant.

Hands are breakable. They are skin and muscle and bone. Push a finger back until the muscles twitch; jam a thumb into the wrist’s bony hollows; a thumb at the base of the neck hurts like hell.

Easy to read intent in someone who stands right in front of him. Someone whose eyes spark with malice right before he clamps down harder. The telltale twitch in their cheek in the moment they step forwards. To guess whether they’re going to let up or not.

Behind, Aaron has no idea. His best guess might be entirely wrong.

(go for the eyes that works he won’t let go but he’ll get weaker)

Gasping for oxygen and drowning in carbon dioxide, his chest burns even as he strains to breathe. His eyes water. Aaron breathes in and in and in. Nothing happens. He’s just making rasping, croaky sounds at the back of his throat.

He almost loses his footing, his knees going weak and his ears ringing, a high-pitched shrill scream. Aaron can’t. He can’t leverage his weight on that. He’d never breathe again. Never get back up.

Perrotta grunts. Must not have expected this resistance.

(what if he never wakes up this time what if what if what if)

His gun clatters to the ground as his hands go to his throat. For something so painful, the wire is remarkably small, his fingers sliding over it. Perrotta draws the ends together. It cuts into the sides of his neck, bearing down on the arteries.

Aaron turns his head sharply and the momentary slack in the wire is enough to get his fingers hooked around it. Perrotta kicks out at his knee and he stumbles, resists the instinct to let go.

It’s not enough.

Having his hands between the wire and his skin does nothing if he can’t move them, if he can’t buy himself some space to breathe. Instead of the wire, his own hands press down on his throat. He pulls with all the strength he can muster. It cuts into his fingertips. Every muscle from his shoulders to his hands burns.

It’s not enough.

Dark spots blot his vision. He’s running out of time.

(if he dies they better notice adult-sized handprints better ask questions)

Aaron jerks his head back. Perrotta’s teeth clash and he lets out a muffled grunt.

The wire loosens.

Half a breath and Perrotta regains his composure. Cuts off his air before it reaches his lungs.

Tugging at the wire burns oxygen he can’t afford to waste. Doing nothing just guarantees he’ll pass out. His hearing fades out as the sensation in his hands and feet turns into vicious pins and needles.

Fear and adrenaline keep him standing, keep him fighting when oxygen deprivation turns his joints weak and head sluggish. Aaron hasn’t got much chance of wrestling it out of Perrotta’s hands.

He kicks everything he can reach. Metal jolts against metal; precariously balanced junk crashes down; his shoes drag in the gravel. Sound. Sound is what got him into this and if he’s loud enough, it’s going to draw their attention. With Perrotta outnumbered, he’ll run.

It’s hard to think.

The black spots compose most of his vision and he misses half of what he’s trying to hit. His pulse beats sickly against the wire. Having the chance at breathing stolen like that has strained something vital in his chest. Burning is too mild a word for the tearing pain.

(why doesn’t she stop it he’d let go if she said to)

Half-formed thoughts flit through his mind, too fast to catch, too fragmented to use. Aaron can’t see. Can’t breathe. He almost lets go of the wire, his hands aching and weak. The last vestiges of his strength go to keeping himself upright.

His knees hit the ground and sharp stones jab his legs. Something in his throat itches and spasms and he’s coughing and taking in great long breaths between and he’s breathing.

When the coughing fit passes, his heart slows its assault against his ribs and his vision clears up. Aaron steadies himself and waits for the dizziness to come to an end. He blinks once, twice, until his eyes aren’t watering.

His hearing kicks in all at once when the ringing ceases, and he twists around just as Gideon manages to wrestle Perrotta into handcuffs. Someone shouts in the distance. Back-up, or the rest of the team.

And Gideon’s in front of him, crouching down, telling him to take off his tie for once. Aaron nods, loosens it before he does, because the idea of hands near his throat – even his own – is dicey at best right now. He feels around the small indentation in his skin, feels the flat tenderness, and that’s going to bruise quite deeply.

“I’m—” Aaron swallows and a sharp pain lances across his throat. The motion aches, as if it’s been rubbed raw with sandpaper. Nonetheless his voice is much less raspy the second try. “I’m fine.”

Gideon hums a token agreement but doesn’t have time to press him on it as Morgan materialises behind them, and Greenaway and Reid a few moments later.

Perrotta snarls, his eyes wild with animalistic hatred.

(It is this, Aaron will realise, which reminds him so much of his father.)

#whumptober 2021 #no2 #garrotte #criminal minds #fanfic #eldrai does whumptober #cm fanfic #hotch #aaron hotchner #whump #angst

28 notes · View notes

imaginemylife · 3 years

Photo

Title: Good Luck Kiss

Fem!Reader | PG-13 for language | blatant PDA, kissing

***

A/N: @imaginesbymk received this anonymous request but was gracious enough to let me run with it! Thank you lovely!

***

Saturday night. Fight night.

I stared at the numbers on my phone, watching them tick closer to start time.

My phone pinged with a text message from Benny.

Are you here yet, babe?

I couldn’t linger in my car any longer. Benny was waiting for me. So I took a deep breath, shoved down the rising thickness in my throat, and pushed my door open.

Music emanated from the gym, cranked up so loud that the ground trembled beneath my feet. I clutched my phone like a lifeline, steeling myself against the inevitable nerves. I loved Benny more than I could ever put into words. But fight night was always difficult, with so many people I didn’t know.

it was Benny’s world and he thrived in it, soaring on the adrenaline high of the fight, the people, and his buddies at his back, supporting him. The only reason I set foot in that gym was because of him. Because I didn’t want to let him down.

A line of people waited to get inside, stretching from the door and around the block. I waved to the security guard at the door and he ushered me inside.

People milled shoulder-to-shoulder in the gym. The music flooded my hearing until my head was ringing with the noise, punctuated by laughter and the buzz of conversation as the crowd waited for the next fight - Benny’s fight - to begin.

I ducked my head and forged through the crowd until I reached the locker room. It was quieter back here, a welcome refuge from the assault on my senses.

Will and Frankie were already waiting, Frankie seated on the bench with his back to the door as they exchanged conversation. I lingered on the threshold, not quite committing to entering the room yet.

Getting along with Will and Frankie was easy. They were always welcoming and kind. Especially when I felt a little lost in the whirlwind of Benny’s life sometimes.

Still, I hung back, tugging my sleeves down over my hands. I didn’t want to intrude. And I didn’t really know what to say to them anyway...

Before I could slip away unnoticed, Will spotted me.

“Hey,” he said with a smile, pushing away from the lockers with his shoulder. “Benny’s been wondering where you are. You know he won’t start the match without you.”

“Is she here?” Benny called down the hallway.

His footsteps echoed for a brief moment before he turned the corner and a giant grin spread across his face. In two long strides, Benny was across the room, scooping me up into a bone-crushing hug before I realized what was happening.

“There’s my girl!”

Even though it was routine before every fight, even though I should have been used to it by now after dating Benny for two years, my face still warmed at the public display of affection in front of his friends.

And yet I didn’t want him to stop either. As shy as I was, Benny didn’t have a shy bone in his body. I both envied and admired him for it in equal measure.

So I simply tucked my face into his shoulder in an attempt to hide, breathing in the scent of his soap, his skin warm against my cheek.

“All right, all right, break it up, Jesus,” Santiago said, slapping Benny on the back. “Don’t make me separate you two lovebirds.”

I pulled away but Benny kept an arm hooked around my shoulders, tucking me against his side.

“You want me to lose this fight, Pope?” He dipped his chin and pressed a kiss to my temple. “This little piece of heaven is my good luck charm right here.”

Will gave Benny a playful shove from behind.

“You’ve been spending too much time in the Hallmark card aisle again.”

Benny shoved back. “You’re just jealous.”

Will scoffed. Before Benny and Will could get into a shoving match, Santiago angled himself between them and ushered Benny in the direction of the arena.

“Hey, hey, save your energy for the ring,” he said. “I’ve got a lot of money riding on your match, Benny. Don’t leave me broke by the end of the night.”

Benny tightened his arm around my shoulders and looked down at me with a gleam of pride in his eye.

“Oh, there’s no chance I’ll lose tonight. I’ve got my girl in the building.”

Again, my face heated - partly pleased, partly embarrassed at so much attention. I turned my face toward him with a mumbled, bashful "stop” under my breath.

Benny chuckled as he started walking toward the arena.

“Better get used to it, babe. I’ll never stop showing you off.”

I swore under my breath, scrubbing at my too-warm cheeks.

A wall of noise rose as Benny and I entered the arena. I wanted to shrink into the shadows as every eye turned toward us. But Benny walked tall and straight, bold, confident.

When we reached the ring, I slipped out from under Benny’s arm. I started toward the bench where Will, Frankie, and Santiago were seated but Benny spoke before I could get away.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

I stopped dead in my tracks and glanced back at him, guilty. A glint of teasing brightened his eyes. He knew what he was doing. Putting me on the spot like this.

Oh no.

“Did you really think you could sneak off without giving me a kiss for luck?” Benny said with the hint of a smirk.

Shit.

I would gladly kiss Benny all day long. Just...not now. In front of everyone. He always asked before a fight and I always hedged about it. Of course I wanted to. But why couldn’t he ask for a kiss in the locker room? Or anywhere else but right here in public.

Someone in the crowd caught that word.

Kiss.

And it began to ripple through the audience, rising and rising until it reached a deafening chant.

Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!

I gulped down a noise of distress, desperate to flee for the door. But I couldn’t abandon Benny. I promised I would be there. He was so fearless, so confident, and I wanted to make him proud.

Best to get it over with.

I hurried back to Benny, stood on tiptoe, and brushed a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth.

But that wasn’t enough. Not for Benny and his insatiable appetite. He never did anything halfway. It was all or nothing with him.

Benny looped an arm around my waist, drawing me flush against him. Burying his hand in my hair, he kissed me until I forgot about the roar of applause in the arena. I felt him smile with a hum of victory as his tongue slid, slick and hot, against the roof of my mouth. I couldn’t resist slipping my arm under his, fingers curling around his bicep - partly for stability, partly because I could never keep my hands to myself when I was around him.

I broke away, sucking my bottom lip between my teeth.

“I’ll kill you for that later,” I said in an attempt to regain my composure.

Benny laughed softly, hands at my hips, tugging me toward him.

“You always say that and you never do,” he said. “I’d like to see you try one day though.”

When he nuzzled his nose into my neck, I stifled a pleased sound that I knew would only egg him on. I put my hand on his face and pushed his head away, struggling to extricate myself from his arms.

“Go, go,” I said. “No more kisses until you win.”

“And if I lose?”

“I don’t think you want to find out.”

I scurried over to the bench, folding my arms around my middle and definitely not making eye contact with Will, Frankie, or Santiago seated beside me.

My phone pinged with a notification as Benny climbed into the ring to the applause of the crowd. I fished my phone from my pocket to find a text from Will.

There were no words. Only a picture of me, completely enveloped in Benny’s arms, my mouth open against his as I breathed him in.

I touched my lips, still warm from Benny’s kiss, and I could feel the smile on my mouth - an infectious, giddy grin I couldn’t stop even if I’d tried.

I hoped he never stopped asking me for a good luck kiss.

#triple frontier #benny miller #benny miller x reader #benny miller imagines #triple frontier imagines #fem reader #ace imagines

139 notes · View notes

cobaltusami · 3 years

Text

Mercy

Hey hi hello! I finally finished my Danganronpa Trigger Happy Havoc fanfic, It took me a literal week. I've been in a bit of a writing slump, But I hope this long fic makes up for my lack of writing!

Words: 3654

Characters: Switch!Mondo, Switch!Taka, Leon

Makoto was just minding his own business, He was walking to the dining hall with Sayaka just chatting about whatever came to mind when it started.

The closer they got the louder the voices were. He couldn’t distinguish who the other person In the argument was through the thick walls, But could clearly make out Mondo’s swearing.

“Do you… Hear something?” Sayaka asked, Putting a hand on Makoto and stopping both of them In their tracks.

“Yeah, Sounds like someone’s arguing with Mondo.” Makoto murmured as he closed his eyes in an attempt to make out what was being said.

For a moment the words got louder and clearer, But quickly became muffled again. As Makoto opened his eyes again he saw Yasuhiro standing In front of the closed doors. “What’s going on In there?” Makoto asked curiously.

“Ugh. Mondo and Kiyotaka are getting Into It In there.” Hiro sighed. “The energy In there Is like, Super negative. I wouldn’t go In there If I were you.”

He patted Makoto on the shoulder as walked past back to his room.

“We should go In there.”

“Are you sure? I mean last time I tried to diffuse a situation involving Mondo I got knocked out.” Makoto laughed nervously, Rubbing the back of his neck.

“You might be able to talk Taka down though.” She suggested, A bright smile on her face.

‘Somehow I sincerely doubt that.’

With a nod and a sigh, Makoto pulled the doors open and stepped In with The pop star.

It was much louder In the dining hall, Taka and Mondo were yelling at each other back and forth In front of their friends.

Makoto left Sayaka’s side and approached the duo warily. He didn’t get too close though before a hand tugged on his arm, Pulling him to a stop.

“Don’t get too close.”

The Ultimate turned to Sakura who had been the one to warn him, She had her eyes carefully trained on the two bickering students. She looked as if she were ready to jump In to separate the two at a moment's notice.

“How long have they been arguing?” The brunette asked, Stealing glances at his friends.

“At least ten minutes.” Hina spoke up from her spot next to Sakura. “They started fighting over who was better.”

“Again?”

“Yes.” Sakura responded.

“Man, This is getting old.” Leon sighed. “Sakura, Why don’t we just separate them now?” He asked, turning to the Ultimate Martial artist.

She glanced at him for a moment before looking back to Mondo and Taka. “And do what, Exactly? They need to work this out for themselves or the fighting will never end.”

She has a point…

“They should just have a stupid competition and get It over with.” Hina huffed. “Seriously, Their bickering Is ruining my donut eating session.”

“Don’t you eat Donuts all the time?” Leon asked, Exasperated.

“Also yes.” Sakura spoke up again, Smirking in amusement as Asahina pouted and grumbled to herself. She reached out and patted the Swimmer affectionately on the shoulder.

“Well,” Sayaka spoke up for the first time since entering the room. “When my group would be upset, We’d find things to do to alleviate the negativity.”

“Like what?” Leon asked curiously, taking his eyes off of the Ultimate’s before him.

The Idol hummed thoughtfully as she recalled all the group activities. “Well, We would talk about our feelings, Gossip…”

“Anything that might help this situation?” Makoto asked.

“Well, I remember one time I was really mad at a few of my friends And to make me forget about how angry I was and realize how stupid our argument had been, They ended up tickling me until I felt better.” Sayaka responded calmly, As If this were a totally normal thing.

“T-Tickling?” Leon stuttered. “You can’t be serious.”

“Sayaka, I don’t think that’s going to work…” The Ultimate Lucky student mumbled, A little embarrassed at the mention of the word.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this but… That might actually work.” Sakura interjected. “Maybe not In the same approach but the laughter should produce enough Dopamine to snuff out some of the Adrenaline they have.”

“Meaning…?” Hina asked quietly.

“Oh, I gotcha. They can’t be mad If they’re too busy laughing?” Leon asked.

“Correct.”

“How do we get them to go for that?” Makoto asked.

“I’m on It!” Hina jumped up, Suddenly very enthusiastic as she approached the pair. Makoto and Leon both exchanged worried looks.

“H-Hina wait!” Sakura tried to stop her friend but she was already actively ignoring everyone else.

“Should we… Stop her?” Makoto asked, To which Leon shrugged.

With a sigh the Martial artist watched even closer than before. Just what Is she up to?

After a few attempts at gaining their attention, Hina stepped In between them and yelled as loudly as she could muster. “BOYS!!!”

Taka was the first to notice her. “A-Asahina!?”

“WHAT?!” Mondo yelled back.

“Your yelling Is super annoying.” Aoi chastised them both, Crossing her arms. “Why not just settle this stupid argument with an Endurance contest? Whoever gives up first loses.”

“Hey, That’s a great idea. Then I can prove once and for all that I’m better than your dumbass.” Mondo smirked at Kiyotaka who rolled his eyes at the Biker.

“What kind of Endurance contest do you propose?” He asked the swimmer.

Aoi grinned, Her eyes glinting with mischief. “How about tickling? Whoever says mercy the fastest loses!”

Mondo and Taka exchanged glances. “That’s fucking stupid.” The biker replied, Uninterested, But that changed however when he noticed Taka looking a bit worried at the mention of Tickling.

“Y-Yeah, I don’t see how It’s supposed to be an endurance challenge! One has to be… Sensitive, In order for that to work out In the first place!” Taka stuttered nervously, Trying desperately to keep his composure. “R-Right…?”

He has a damn good reason to be worried, Kiyotaka Ishimaru Is immensely ticklish, In fact It’s nearly impossible to find a spot on the boy that Isn’t ticklish.

“Hey! It’s a perfectly good Endurance challenge! Right Sakura?” Aoi called out to her best friend, Ignoring that comment about sensitivity.

“Yes, But It’s not so much a physical endurance challenge as It is a mental one, It’s about pushing limits.” She complied.

“Yeah! She would know about pushing limits!” Aoi smiled, Going back over to Sakura. “Tell them!”

“I… Just did.”

“Not that, I meant that story you told me about Ke--”

Sakura quickly put a hand over Hina’s mouth, She appeared calm despite freaking out internally. “Karate.” She blushed, Not wanting anyone else to know the story about Kenshiro that Hina almost just blabbed. “Similarly to Karate, If you want to prove who’s better, What better way than to push past even your opponents limits?”

Leon and Makoto exchanged looks again, This time intrigued. Evidently they both picked up on the odd response.

Mondo looked back at Taka, Who despite his best efforts, Looked incredibly nervous as his window for escape kept getting smaller and smaller. “You look a little nervous, Ishimaru… Don’t tell me you’re ticklish.” He smirked as Taka’s face went red.

“W-What?! Me?! D-Don’t be preposterous!” Kiyotaka retorted. “W-What about you? Are you…?”

“Tch. As If. You think someone as tough as me Is fucking ticklish?” Mondo brushed off the comment, Playing It cool despite lying and being completely and utterly ticklish.

Aoi finally removed Sakura’s hand to dish out another embarrassing comment. “I mean, Sakura’s tougher than you are and she’s ticklish.”

Sakura was too late to stop her this time. Her face went red as everyone quickly looked at her in disbelief. “Don’t look at me like that.” She mumbled. “It was a long time ago.”

Not wanting to press their luck and get their asses kicked for teasing the powerful student, They turned back to what they were doing.

There was almost an unnervingly teasing edge to Mondo’s words as he spoke In a low voice. “So? Whaddya say Kiyotaka? Think you can outlast me?”

No, No he doesn’t. But he’s out of excuses to back out now so he gave a small nod. “O-Of course! I’m much stronger than you are!”

“I doubt that very much.” Mondo smirked, Glancing to Aoi. “You’re the one who suggested It, What do we do?”

Hina turned to Sakura to ask her opinion, But she looked too embarrassed to say anything, So she turned her attention to Sayaka. “What do you think?”

“Maybe set a timer and time how long the person lasts? and have one tickle the other?”

Mondo gave a rather sinister smirk to Taka. “Works for me.”

“W-Wait a moment! How Is that fair? I’ve never actually done this to someone before!”

“And you think I look like the kind of fucking person who goes around tickling people for shits and giggles?” The Biker scoffed.

“I mean, If you need help I can show you how to do it.” Leon volunteered.

“If you value your life you won’t get Involved.” Mondo warned.

“Now that that’s out of the way.” Makoto intervened. “Who wants to go first...?”

“We’re seriously going to do this? D-Don’t you feel the least bit… Childish?” Taka made one last attempt, And Mondo wasted no time crushing it.

“If you’re scared you can always just admit I’m better.”

Kiyotaka glanced around the room at their classmates before sighing and resigning himself to his fate. Either way his secret is going to get out, But at least this way he can take Mondo down with him. “Very well!” He shot back, Pushing aside his nervousness. “I will go first! This should be easy enough.”

While Taka wasn’t paying attention, Mondo had silently moved behind him. Smirking as he listened to Taka continue on with his self pep talk.

“I mean, It’s just tickling, How bad could It beeeEEE!” Taka squealed In surprise and quickly brought his shoulders up as he felt fingers flutter over his neck for a moment.

Mondo snorted in amusement, clearly proud of himself for producing that reaction. “I thought you said you weren’t ticklish earlier?” He asked teasingly.

“You just startled me!” He shot back, Though he was unable to hide the blush that formed.

Mondo rolled his eyes, smirking at the Ultimate Moral Compass. “Whatever,” He paused for a moment, Thinking about how he wanted to do this. He reached around Ishimaru and began to tauntingly unbutton his jacket.

“What are you doing??” Taka demanded.

“I’m having a fucking pool party-- What’s It look like I’m doing?!” Mondo retorted.

“Pool party???” Hina perked up at the mention.

“H-Hina… No.” Sakura sighed, Exasperated.

“I’m undoing your jacket so I can reach more spots.” The biker explained, Undoing the final button revealing a white shirt underneath. “There. Now then… Who’s keeping track?”

“I got you.” Leon volunteered, Whipping his phone out of his pocket and fiddling with it for a second. “Okay, Whenever you two are ready.”

“Are you ready to admit defeat?” Mondo whispered in his ear, The feeling of his warm breath against his neck sending chills down his spine. “Remember, The magic word for when you’re screaming your lungs out with laughter Is ‘Mercy.’”

Taka shivered, Closing his eyes and taking a small breath. “I am ready to begin, Leon!”

“Startiiiinnnng… now.” Leon announced, Hitting the start button on the stopwatch app.

Mondo wasted no time, His fingers skittering across Taka’s stomach with careless abandon. He smirked at the way the Red eyed student flinched and trembled under his touch.

“S-See? This Is pointless. I am fine.” Taka struggled to maintain his composure, He clenched his jaw to keep any whimpers or other embarrassing sounds from escaping.

Mondo winked at Leon as he slowed his fingers. “You’re right, I guess this Isn’t going to--” He stopped mid sentence to shove his hands under Taka’s shirt, and dug his fingers into his sides.

That’s all It took for Taka to crumble, He let out a scream and fell back against the Ultimate Biker’s chest laughing. “N-NOHOHO! MOHOHOHNDO!” He cried out, His hands grabbing uselessly at the tickling appendages.

“Well well… Looks like someone’s pretty fuckin’ ticklish.” Mondo smirked victoriously, His fingers squeezing at Taka’s bare sensitive sides without mercy.

In an attempt to escape the tickles, Taka sank to the floor. Mondo however, followed, not letting up for a moment. “Where do you think you’re going?” He teased. “You’re not getting out of this that easily.”

The Ultimate Hall Monitor flailed helplessly, Laughing hysterically as he did. “PLEHEHEHEASE!”

“Begging already? Man, this Is gonna be easy.” Mondo chuckled, Brushing his fingers teasingly across his stomach. “Just say mercy and this will all be over.”

“N-Nohohoho! I won’t gihihihive up!” He tried to curl In on himself but Mondo was quick to sit on his thighs to stop him.

“Fine, Guess I’ll just have to kick It up a notch then.” Mondo smirked, Tracing his fingertips up and down his sides. This action drew a squeal from the uptight student. “You seem to be pretty ticklish here. You got ticklish sides, Ishimaru?”

“N-Nohohohot particularly!” He lied. His sides were one of his worst spots.

“You’re a terrible fucking liar.” The biker scoffed, Tickling his sides much more vigorously, he honed in on a particularly sensitive spot just under his ribs.

“KYAHAHAHAHA! NAHAHAHAHA!” Taka’s face went red as he began flailing again, Mondo jolted back, narrowly missing a hand to the face.

“You’re kind of dangerous when tickled, Aren’tcha?” He chuckled, His fingers rhythmically massaging circles into the sensitive skin.

Taka couldn’t remember the last time he laughed this much or this hard, His lungs were burning and his sides were beginning to ache. He’d been tickled In the past by his parents, But never this brutally or for this long.

Tears pricked the corners of his eyes and his small gasps for breath became more frequent. Every nerve In his body was on fire. He knew he couldn’t last much longer.

Mondo knew this as well. “Squirm all you want, The only way to make this stop Is to say the magic word.” He teased. “I could keep tickling you for hours.”

He emphasized this by kneading his sides rather meanly, Sending ticklish shockwaves coursing through the laughing student below him.

He broke almost instantly, with a scream of laughter. “NAAAHAHA! MERCY! MERCYEHEHEHEHE!”

Almost begrudgingly, Mondo let up on the merciless tickles and moved off of Taka. “What was his time?” He asked Leon casually, Hiding his disappointment quite well.

Leon glanced at his phone screen again after hitting stop. “I’m not telling until after you go.” He grinned.

“What?! How am I supposed to know how long to last?”

“You don’t. I’ll tell you once you’ve beaten Taka’s time.” The redhead responded slyly. “It shouldn’t be a problem for someone like you, Right?”

He shoved his phone back Into his pocket and turned to Makoto. “You keep track of Mondo’s time.”

Makoto nodded and set up the app as he was told.

“Fine. Let’s get this over with.” Mondo rolled his eyes and laid down on the floor next to Taka, Who had finally caught his breath and gotten rid of the ghost tingles.

The Ultimate Moral compass sat up, thinking carefully. He still wasn’t entirely sure how to go about tickling Mondo, But he had a bit of an idea after that.

Leon came over, Not that Mondo had noticed due to him closing his eyes to brace himself. The former Baseball star leaned In close to Taka and whispered. “I’ll help you. Basically, Mondo Is super ticklish on his stomach and under his arms.” He explained, Glancing at the student in question.

“He’s super weak to light teasy touches on his stomach, Like this.” He demonstrated by lightly running his fingertips across the back of Taka’s hand. “Also, teasing him verbally literally kills him.”

Taka nodded as he took In all of this information. More eager than before to try.

Just as Mondo was opening his eyes to question them, Leon had pinned his arms above his head. “Hey there!” He greeted cheerfully, a wide grin on his face as he received a death glare.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing!?” Mondo snapped, tugging at his arms uselessly.

“Helping the opposition, What do you think I’m doing?” He asked innocently.

“I swear to God, I will fucking end you!”

Taka sat next to the angry biker on the floor, watching the two go back and forth for a moment longer before calling over his shoulder. “Makoto! I am ready!”

“O-Okay! Stopwatch started!”

Wasting no further time, Taka began fluttering his fingers ever so lightly across Mondo’s toned stomach, making shivers run down his spine as he tried to squirm away from the delicate touches.

The biker tried to resist, But try as he may, he soon began sputtering out giggles and threats. Though not really directed at Taka. “Leheheheon, You behehetter be thinking about what you want to say to gohohod because you’re gonna meet him today!”

“Taka, He’s still threatening me, I don’t think he’s laughing hard enough.” Leon tried to say seriously, But the grin on his face betrayed his words.

“I agree! I think I know how to fix that!” Taka smirked, Darting his fingers underneath Mondo’s jacket and launching an attack under his arms.

Mondo let out a shriek and tugged roughly at his trapped arms to no avail. “NO! NOHOHOT THERE!” He barked out between laughs.

Taka’s fingers were clumsy at first, But he quickly adapted, finding spidering motions to be the most effective technique. “Why not? This seems like a very sensitive spot. I think It would benefit me to stay here.”

“THIS IHIHIHSN’T FAHAHAIR!” He complained, Burying his face in his sleeve to hide his growing blush. “IHIHIT’S TWO ON ONE!”

“Hey, I’m just helping because Taka’s never tickled anyone before. I’m making things fair if anything.” Leon retorted. “Besides, I haven’t tickled you. I’m just holding you down. This Is all Kiyotaka.”

“That’s right! The rules never stated anything about restraint.” Taka smiled tauntingly, Applying a bit more pressure and mimicking the massaging motions Mondo used against him earlier.

“GAH! NAHAHAHAHAHA!”

“I bet that tickles like hell. It looks like It tickles.” Leon teased.

“STAHAHAHAHAHAP!” He pressed out between fits of laughter.

“Taka, Try his belly again. Now that he’s laughing, He shouldn’t be able to hold back.” the Ultimate Baseball star encouraged.

Ishimaru did as instructed, His fingers brushing teasingly against his stomach. This drew a squeal from the feared Biker gang leader’s lips.

“FUHUHUHUHUCK! AHAHAHAHAHAHA! TAHAHAHAKA STAHAHAHAP!” He cackled as he felt fingers delicately dancing across his skin.

“I’ll only stop If you say Mercy!” Taka reminded, Continuing his soft torturous tickles.

An Idea came to mind, A rather cruel one. Taka recalled a time when he was a child and was playing with his mom, he remembered how badly It tickled when she blew a raspberry on his belly and wondered If that would work here too. “L-Leon, You know that thing where someone presses their lips against your skin and makes a weird sound? What Is that called?”

“Eh?” Leon looked up at him curiously, Pondering for a moment. But a rather evil smile crossed his face as he came to the realization. “Oh, You mean raspberries, Don’t you?”

“Raspberries, Yes! How do I do that?”

“It’s simple really--”

“NONONO DOHOHOHON’T YOU DAHAHAHARE YOU SON OF A BIHIHIHITCH!” Mondo threw out an empty warning, His struggling intensifying.

Leon laughed. “You press your mouth to their skin, And blow. That’s it. Oh, When you do It, Make sure you tickle him with your hands somewhere too, That’ll really drive him nuts.”

Kiyotaka nodded, Eagerly he bent down and pressed his lips against his quivering stomach. This action alone drew a string of unmanly giggles and squeals from him.

The first few attempts weren’t so successful, but he finally figured it out and blew a raspberry against his stomach, while at the same time digging his fingers into his underarms.

“NAAHAHAHAHAHA! MERCY! OHOHO GOHOHOD STAHAHAHAP!” He screamed with laughter.

Taka relented, Pulling back with a victorious smile on his face. Leon released his arms and immediately dove for shelter In the form of hiding behind Sakura.

The others laughed at this.

Makoto was about to say something but Sayaka silently shushed him.

“Y-You’re fucking evil.” Mondo said breathlessly, pointing an accusing finger at him.

“S-So are you. I still feel the tingles on my sides.” Taka shivered at the recollection.

The Biker leader sat up and they locked eyes for a minute, Silent as they studied each other's reactions. Soon another round of laughter filled the room as they laughed at the absurdity of the situation.

“I’m sorry man, I guess I was kind of being a dick.” Mondo apologized.

“N-No, You’re fine! I apologize! I suppose I don’t know when to ‘take It easy’ as you put It.” Taka also apologized.

Mondo hooked his arm around Taka’s shoulders and pulled him to him. “That’s alright, I can teach ya bro!” He grinned.

“R-Really? Thank you bro!” The strict student beamed back.

“Oh God. They’ve become the other extreme now.” Aoi mumbled.

“I’ll never understand how male friendships work.” Sakura sighed, Hina giggled In response. “But, If they’re done fighting then… I suppose It’s all right that I don’t understand.”

Makoto looked at Leon. “Do you think they even still care about who won or lost?”

“Nope.” Leon snickered. “You wanna know just for the hell of It?”

Makoto nodded with a small chuckle.

“It was--”

“For our first hang out,” Mondo said loudly, on purpose. He locked eyes with Leon, Who had peaked out from behind Sakura to look at him. “Wanna help me get revenge on a certain Redhead?”

Leon squeaked as Taka also looked at him with a rather mischievous glimmer In his eyes.

“Yeah, Let’s get him.”

110 notes · View notes

cybernaght · 3 years

Text

Guardian rewatch: episode 7

The world’s most amicable mugging continues in this episode, as Shen Wei waits for Zhao Yunlan to spring into his defence as his personal knight in shining armour. Or, as the official subtitle of the episode states:

I kid you not. Here’s the original with the alternate translation.

I am once more very much not mad at it.

I say that Shen Wei’s mugging is amicable, but that is of course is before one of the “gangsters” tries to grab at his Pendant of Pining. “It’s not something that you people can touch”, he states, easily restraining the man’s wrist. He’s not losing his composure just yet, but his warrior’s stance is showing, and he comes pretty close to breaking cover.

Thankfully, this is when Zhao Yunlan shows up to intervene. Hearing him approach, Shen Wei’s first priority is hiding the Pendant of Pining. His second priority is straightening his collar and tightening his tie. Shen Wei may be in a middle of an attempted mugging, but he’d be damned if he allows Zhao Yunlan to see him dishevelled. Come to think of it, it’s kind of hilarious that Shen Wei’s attempt at pretending to be a poor helpless human includes being completely nonplussed by being attacked. Surely freaking out a little would be an infinitely less suspicious choice.

Yunlan politely but firmly pushes the professor aside, and Shen Wei waits patiently next to the wall, neatly folding his hands the same way he did at the unpleasant councillor meeting in the previous episode.

Here we finally see that Zhao Yunlan is pretty impressive in hand to hand combat. This man may not have a sword, but he can easily knock two dudes out with three moves. Again, this is a very short, but pretty damn flawless little piece of choreography. Zhao Yunlan’s fighting prowess is even more accentuated with a gleeful adrenaline-filled grin he breaks into after he’s done. I understand Shen Wei’s endless desire to protect the man he’s devoted to, but, honestly, it’s nice to see Zhao Yunlan not really needing protection - not against simple street crime at least.

Shen Wei proceeds to calmly dust off his discarded briefcase. Zhao Yunlan proceeds to retrieve the other man’s watch from the ground and then passes it on. With physical contact. Should I be obsessing over how their fingers linger together for a second? Maybe not. I am doing it anyway.

“What a coincidence”, deadpans Shen Wei, who knows for the fact that the other man is tailing him, and causes a delightful burst of faux outrage in response.

“What are you implying?”, Zhao Yunlan asks innocently, deflecting further by inquiring whether Shen Wei thinks he staged this little rescue mission. He follows it with “Only you’re allowed to be here this time of night?”, which I choose to read as, “Really, Shen Wei. Why do you think you should have a monopoly on stalking in this relationship?”

As the two are distracted by the low key flirting, one of the muggers makes an opportunity attack on Zhao Yunlan. Shen Wei is alarming Yunlan to this with genuine worry, but does not lose his composure enough to intervene.

We are treated to another excellent three moves, which are block-break-backfist. Well mixed sound helps, but Bai Yu does look very good as well. The footage does not appear sped up at all, but his movements are fast and crisp, he’s engaging his whole body, everything lands well angle-wise, it’s appropriately safe... Again, I cannot fault this at all. Bai Yu is not physically strong, and this just goes to show that you don’t need a lot of muscle to look like you can be an effective fighter. I don’t want to go into long detail on western media’s obsession with unrealistic physical standards in action media, but suffice it to say that it’s an unhealthy and pointless aesthetic choice which has nothing to do with reality of combat performance - as this scene clearly illustrates. (Look. As I said, stage violence is one of my jobs, and I’m a curvy woman who spends a lot of her time with insecure young actors and drama students. I have opinions.)

Having fended off the attack, Zhao Yunlan exaggerates the situation with the proverb “talking too much will get you killed.” Shen Wei is obviously distressed over his choice of words, but he looks down to hide it.

At this point the two decide to go home instead of getting the street criminals off the street.

Zhao Yunlan follows Shen Wei into his flat, pretending very loudly that he has not seen this place before. He is trying way too hard. And there is a touch of a naughtily feline glimmer in his eyes, because he is probably still on that adrenaline rush: his heart would be pounding, senses elevated, brain basking in a pleasant sharpness akin to a sugar rush, when everything is a little bit too saturated. And an attractive mysterious man he just saved is asking him to stay. Zhao Yunlan’s going to have even less brain to mouth filter here than he usually does.

Shen Wei is getting a first aid to kit to treat Zhao Yunlan’s injuries. It’s anyone’s guess why the self-healing Envoy needs a first aid kit at all - it lives in a Tupperware box as well, suggesting that it’s been assembled and organised by hand rather than store bought.

Sitting down, and tucking his tie in (because neatness is everything), Shen Wei prepares to administer a mysterious ointment to Zhao Yunlan’s bruise, and states that this is him giving Chief Zhao an opportunity for interrogation. I bet he has got a lie prepared for any question, because this situation has definitely been pre-planned.

Instead of probing the other man, Zhao Yunlan offers him a job. Shen Wei’s answer is a firm no, which he utters without even a second hesitation. To Zhao Yunlan, this clearly reads as a rejection, as his face crumbles.

He livens up however, when Shen Wei hurries to add that this is not a denial of help or cooperation. Zhao Yunlan is right to ask why he would take the job then case; this is an entirely reasonable question. I’m guessing, Shen Wei’s reluctance comes from his unwillingness to compromise Hei Pao Shi’s position, rather than an attempt to prevent Zhao Yunlan from getting involved in the cosmic shitstorm which is currently brewing: as the Lord Guardian, he’s gonna get right in the middle of said storm either way.

“You just move in and didn’t invite your neighbour over for some fun?”, Zhao Yunlan asks.

Laying it on really thick, I see.

Shen Wei blinks disbelievingly, as if to say “did he just…?” then recovers enough to huff out a laugh.

“My mistake. Next time, I’ll properly invite you.”

Zhao Yunlan snaps his fingers in delight, visibly vibrating with joy. In his head this is Yunlan - 1: Xiao Wei - 0.

As Shen Wei starts to apply the mysterious ointment, Zhao Yunlan flinches, and Shen Wei is genuinely taken aback by an idea that he might hurt this man. He is so preciously startled for a second, shedding ten thousand years in an instant. I am never going to not be impressed by Zhu Yilong’s ability to switch into Baby Shen Wei mode in a matter of seconds.

“I didn’t expect you to have such skilful hands.”

Zhao Yunlan’s charm attack truly is unrelenting, and Shen Wei looks up with such a fragile hope in his eyes. He has lived a long time now, and he has learned to maintain thick walls around himself, but he is still incredibly affected by Kunlun’s shameless flirting.

Continuing his charm offensive, Zhao Yunlan gets so distracted by trying to further impress Shen Wei, he unwittingly reveals that he knows the layout of this flat. And realises what he said. And hopes that the other man had not noticed, adorably brushing his nose in embarrassment.

He dug this one out for himself, and Shen Wei is far from mortified: he is pleased to have caught the other man out. Zhao Yunlan flails, and Shen Wei quite literally is failing to wipe a smug smile off his own face.

He’s not even really waiting for an explanation. He’s just happy to win this round. There is even a little “yeah sure let’s pretend I believe you” tilt of the eyebrow, when Yunlan finally comes up with something that sounds as a reasonable excuse.

After his massive blunder, Zhao Yunlan tries to leave again. Shen Wei stops him, again, and there is no limit to how slyly Zhao Yunlan turns around, followed by a hind of disappointment when all he gets is an ointment, and not, you know, an opportunity to have a good look around Shen Wei’s bedroom.

Shen Wei is left alone in his flat in a state of utter emotional overload, stroking the Pendant under his shirt.

Let’s disregard for a second the fluctuating length of the chord the Pendant hangs on (is it between his collar bones or in front of his breastbone? Pick one!), and just appreciate the pining. Shen Wei is going through a lot of feelings since his Kunlun’s returned into his life, and sometimes computing is not an option.

In the next scene, the muggers are discussing Shen Wei and Zhao Yunlan, calling them both too formidable to even attempt an act of revenge against them. Definitely a wise idea. Unfortunately for them, they immediately get attacked by… something.

Spoiler alert: no, it’s not a bear.

It’s the White Shirt Day at the SID. Chu Shuzhi is the only one not participating. In this scene, we discover that Lin Jing likes a horror web novelist called Lai Su - which will be very convenient for the case at hand. During their conversation, Wang Zheng alerts he team to the new case, asking for the whereabouts of their boss. Zhu Hong’s reply is that who knows which old pal the man is hang out with. As we never see him having any friends outside of his job, I choose to believe that he is probably hanging out with Shen Wei; quite possibly exploring the layout of his bedroom. Especially considering how good his mood is as he strolls into the office announcing that he is going to buy a feast for everyone.

Unfortunately, the feast has to wait. Zhao Yunlan, Chu Shuzhi and Xiao Guo head towards the crime scene, which is the very same alley the mugging took place the night before.

“Based on my experience, he died from freezing.”

There has never been a more apt reason to use the phrase “no shit Sherlock”.

Apparently, there is a cctv camera trained right on this very particular dark alley. Which implies that the muggers were even less professional than they appeared to be at the beginning of the episode. Mysteriously, the footage fails to show the actual monster who attacked the poor unfortunate street criminals. It did, on the other hand, capture Zhao Yunlan’s dashing rescue of Professor Shen.

Zhao Yunlan can’t exactly stop his team from rewinding the footage, so he is just left squirming as those around him gape at him spending time with Shen Wei in the middle of the night.

“You... and Shen Wei? This late at night?”

Chu Shuzhi’s transition from disbelief to a knowing “ah” via a mischievous smirk is particularly amusing.

The following afternoon, Zhu Hong appears in Shen Wei’s office, laptop in hand. She is quietly furious at being given this task; as I imagine it is very awkward indeed to be a laptop carrier for your crush’s crush. The entire scene she will be alternating between glaring, rolling her eyes, pursing her lips, and glaring with even more venom.

After Shen Wei gets over his initial bafflement at technology, he realises that Zhao Yunlan is video calling him in order to ask for his expertise on the current case. For the most of this scene the call looks like some sort of fake generic video conference software, apart from some shots on the SID side which very obviously show a pre-recorded footage being played: with a pause button, and a time stamp, and everything.

Shen Wei is in full trolling mode when he educates the SID team on all the types of bears that could have attacked the victim. He tasted this feeling of outsmarting Yunlan the night before and it’s too sweet to let go. Judging by the fact that Da Qing, who is by Zhao Yunlan’s side, is falling asleep during this conversation, we can guess that it’s been going on for a while.

Zhao Yunlan knows that Shen Wei is trying to prove a point here - he will not be bullied into being a consultant. So, Zhao Yunlan changes tactics, and asks Shen Wei for clues as a friend. Shen Wei assures Zhao Yunlan in turn that he would never hide anything important from. The magnitude of this particular lie is immeasurable, unless Shen Wei considers turning himself into a literal suicide bomb inconsequential. Which, to be fair, he might do.

Finally, Da Qing wakes up and suggests that the suspect is a Youchu (translated in subs a “secluded beast”). He is not correct, but it is important that we know what those are, because we’ll see them in a couple of episodes - so it actually makes sense to write them in here.

Shen Wei instantly comes forward, fishes a relevant file out of his drawer, and educates the team on that particular monster. Zhao Yunlan relates that he is familiar with those, and that he knows Hei Pao Shi fought them before in nearby cities.

Existence of aforementioned nearby cities will remain a beautiful enigma, which will never be explained. Seastar will remain very much a Little Prince-sized planet.

At this point Zhao Yunlan gets a call about the other mugger being found, and Shen Wei tells him in a rush that he does not think those two men possess Undergrounder qualities.

When asked however what those qualities are, he does not elaborate, and, after a thick silence, Zhao Yunlan sighs in resignation and finally lets Shen Wei off the hook, assuring him that he knows not all Undergrounders are monsters. He knows - of course he knows - that Shen Wei is hiding stuff. He knows the other man is somehow invested in the Undergounders, and is probably is one himself. Once again he chooses to trust him absolutely. I know it feels like I say those words every single episode, but this is also the choice Zhao Yunlan makes, deliberately, every single episode. This conversation will leave Zhao Yunlan very cranky for the remainder for the case, but his willingness to keep giving Shen Wei concessions is actually really sweet.

Shen Wei asks, perhaps, impulsively, that Yunlan shares his findings with him, because he is curious who the culprit is. It makes, as ever, little sense for him to do so considering that he would find it out anyway as Hei Pao Shi.

After completing her mission, Zhu Hong leaves in a huff. She did not say hello and she does not say goodbye either. Shen Wei tries to wave amicably, but aborts the gesture.

He does not yet know - and will not find out for quite some time - why Zhu Hong feels so antagonistic towards him.

Next stop: the hospital ward with a now insane criminal. Portrayal of mental health issues on this show is... interesting, by which I mean terribly stigmatising. I would have understood if this was a magic-induced psychosis, but I don’t think that’s the case at all.

Lin Jing realises that the case sounds very much like the web horror novel he likes. It sounds insane, but Yunlan hears him out. The scientist goes into great detail over the author, revealing that he was a leader of his fan club at some point, and detailing several murders from his recent novel that appeared to have have happened in reality.

The team moves on to scout the author’s - Lai Su’s - house, with Zhao Yunlan being the one to approach it. He then proceeds to summon his team via a non-existent radio.

Look. There is no mouth piece on this jacket. There is no earpiece in his ear. There are no wires. None of the team have radios. None of them even look like they are listening to radios. (Trust me, the “please shut up for a second, someone is speaking into my ear” is a recognisable look). Guardian’s writers/directors. Mah dudes. If you can’t afford radios, just make him do a non-verbal signal, seriously. Same effect, with much less silliness, and no continuity issues.

Before the team enters the house, we see Ya Qing in crow form for the first time. Even without the benefit of hindsight, it’s easy to recognise that the crow will become narratively significant because she is animated, and this show would not waste its very scarce and rapidly depleting CGI budget in vein.

We also know that the crow is a Yashou because Lin Jing starts talking about Zhu Hong at that exactly moment. Guardian is many wonderful things - it’s dramatic, breathtaking, heart-wrenching, and poignant - but subtle it is not.

Inside the house, they discover a secret room, which Lai Su is hiding in, and we finally get to meet our unfortunate culprit.

It is very peculiar how mean-spirited this episode seems to be. The web novelist in question is shown in an unequivocally negative light. He is a coward hiding behind a blanket, a weirdo living in a secret room, a glutton stuffing his face with snacks and drinking wine. He is shown as too vain to stop chasing clout even when he suspects that his novel is leading to people dying. He writes for attention and money rather than out of genuine artistic expression. He is a whimpering mess, begging Lin Jing on his knees to speak to the Chief on his behalf. Even if we consider that moral of the story (as stated later in Guo Changcheng’s diary note) is “internet bad”, this insistence of making Lai Su so unmistakably despicable is baffling. The series is based on the web novel. What kind of message is this sending about its origins?

On the bright side, I suppose it is nice that part of this episode not revolving around Zhao Yunlan and Shen Wei’s relationship is actually rather Lin Jing-centric. So far, he was mostly there for occasional tech support and countless shots of him of screaming at a computer, but here we get to know more about him, and he goes on a little emotional journey of his own - meeting his idol and being distraught by the author not living up to expectations. It is always so disappointing to see creators you admire being imperfect, or downright unpleasant, and it’s easy to sympathise with Lin Jing’s discontent.

Zhao Yunlan’s modus operandi has always been intuition. Looking at the author, he knows that he must be responsible for the murders, and also knows that he could not possibly have been. For once it is actually Xiao Guo who suggests the solution: multiple personality disorder. Or, magical multiple personality disorder, as it is the case. We see this click with the Chief, and he genuinely praises the young man.

Back at the house, Lai Su is deciding to stop the murder spree by writing the demise of the homicidal protagonist of his novel. This is his ultimate redemption, which also leads to his untimely death by the hands of the monster who lives within him and is manifested through his writing.

The team asks Zhao Yunlan what was going on with this strange case. They won’t get an explanation; but Shen Wei will.

Zhao Yunlan, as promised, drops by Shen Wei’s office late at night to tell him all about the case. He concludes that Lai Su must have had Undergrounder blood in him, with his power not manifesting until now. Zhao Yunlan sounds rather remorseful as he stipulates that the writer could have lived a long happy life despite his origin and abilities, had he not started unknowingly abusing his powers. This Zhao Yunlan is miles removed from the man who vowed to catch every Undergrounder, and we can see Shen Wei infinitely moved by this man’s empathy.

This, I think, is the very moment Shen Wei starts to fall in love - not with the man who was Kunlun, or the man who will be Kunlun, or the man who resembles Kunlun - with Zhao Yunlan, Lord Guardian, Chief of Special Investigations Department, with all his incessant flirting, and sharp edges, and pointed questions, and endless understanding.

In the final moments of this episode Zhao Yunlan shares a dark premonition that something truly terrible will happen in their city.

He has no idea how right he is.

Next up: Episode 8: The Morning Porridge

——

This conversation happened with my partner as I was working on this recap:

Me: … I am two scenes in and this is how much I’ve typed up already.

My partner: Honey! I know you’re Russian, but War and Peace has already been written.

#guardian #zhao yunlan #shen wei #weilan #recap #rewatch #those are getting longer and longer

69 notes · View notes

hysterialevi · 3 years

Text

Hjarta | Chapter 21

Fanfic summary: In an AU where Eivor was adopted by Randvi’s family instead, he ends up falling in love with the man his sister has been promised to despite the arranged marriage between their clans.

Point of view: third-person

Pairing: Sigurd Styrbjornson x Male Eivor

This story is also on AO3 | Previous chapter | Next chapter

THE NEXT DAY

THRYMR’S TOMB

“They’re here, my lord.” The messenger said from the doorway, awaiting his king’s response.

Kjotve chuckled and lounged in his chair, allowing his feet to rest on the war table before him.

“Of course they are. It was only a matter of time.” He went quiet for a moment, sliding a rock along the blade of his battle-axe. “...Is Gorm with them?”

The messenger’s gaze shifted to the floor. “N-No, my lord.”

The other man didn’t seem surprised. “I expected as much. That boy was dead the minute he allowed himself to fall into their hands. They’ve likely hammered his head on a pike already.” Kjotve sighed and set the rock down, leaning forward in his seat. “No matter. We’ll manage without him. How many people are we dealing with?”

“It’s an army, my lord. Both the Raven and Bear clans are here. They’re attacking the fort from the southern half of the island. Sigurd Styrbjornson is leading the charge. Dag is nowhere to be found though.”

Kjotve nodded to himself, quickly formulating a plan in his head. “He’s probably dead. I knew something was amiss when Dag’s reports came to a sudden halt.”

He rose from the chair and stretched his arms, resting the axe’s hilt on his shoulder. “Tell our men to prepare for war, and make sure everyone is ready. If Sigurd loses this battle, the power of the entire kingdom will shift, and his family will lose their claim to the throne. He won’t accept defeat easily. We’ll have to throw everything we have at him.”

The messenger bowed. “Of course, my lord.”

Kjotve began striding towards the door. “In the meantime, I think I should get a look at this ‘army’ for myself. I’ve never known The Raven Clan to be a formidable opponent, but they’re not an enemy to be underestimated. Keep your eyes sharp, and your axe at hand. This isn’t going to end smoothly.”

~~~~~~~~~~

MEANWHILE

THRYMR’S TOMB, SOUTHERN HALF

“Heave!” Sigurd bellowed, his voice towering over all the commotion.

The Raven Clan let out a unanimous shout and rushed forward with the battering ram, gripping the mechanism so tightly that their knuckles turned white. The wooden planks of the bridge groaned underneath their weight as they charged towards the fort, trembling from the footsteps of a hundred warriors.

Meanwhile, the Bear Clan marched alongside them and formed a shield wall around their allies, taking the brunt of any arrows that came raining down from the battlements. A series of thunderous war chants echoed from the sea of raiders flooding the gates, and within moments, they were already bashing it down.

“Heave!” Sigurd commanded once again, urging them to charge. The warriors took a few steps back and pulled the ram into position, holding it in place before letting it swing.

The front of the mechanism immediately broke free from their grasp and soared into the braces holding the gate together, causing an array of splinters to fly from the surface.

A few of the supports could be seen bending in the face of the ram’s power, and by now, a unit of Kjotve’s men had gathered on the other side, preparing to welcome the incoming horde of enemies.

Before Sigurd could carry out a final charge however, the shadows of multiple archers blotted the ground beneath his feet like phantoms emerging from the night, drawing his attention to the line of arrows growing above. He gazed upwards into the sun’s blinding light, and yelled another command.

“Shield wall!”

Upon hearing the order, the Bear Clan instantly got into formation and locked their shields together, creating a shimmering shell above their companions. A wave of arrows came bolting down soon after, and rapidly buried the army below under a hurricane of metal.

A number of Sigurd’s warriors were shot dead within seconds despite their attempt to deflect the attack, and much to his dismay, the battering ram suddenly found itself short of some men. The surviving raiders pushed on with any energy they had left and stepped over the handful of scattered corpses now littering the bridge, bringing the ram one step closer to success.

Taking advantage of the opening that followed the archers’ assault, the Raven Clan drew the ram back to its starting point and awaited their prince’s command, keeping the mechanism raised with a Herculean amount of strength.

“Heave!” Sigurd ordered one last time, signaling his men to rush forward. They tightened their grip and practically hurled the ram into the gate, shattering the remains of the barricade into pieces. Shards of wood violently erupted from the site of impact, and shortly after, the Raven Clan was storming the entrance.

“Find Kjotve!” The prince roared. “And send that argr dog into the jaws of Garmr himself!”

Barreling into the fort with a symphony of war cries, the Bear and Raven Clans began tearing through Kjotve’s men like a legion from Hel, cutting down anything in sight as if the spirit of Thor had possessed their very minds.

The sound of axes clashing rang across the battlefield like the shrill voice of a valravn and colored the air with mayhem, drowning out the agonized shrieks echoing from Kjotve’s army.

Meanwhile, Sigurd took hold of his longsword and jumped into the tempest swirling around him, butchering foes left and right in a haze of fury.

All of his bottled-up rage, grief, and pain came pouring out in every strike, and soon enough, he resembled the man who visited Ingrida in her dreams. His eyes practically glowed with the sparks of a vengeful flame, and it didn’t take long for the god of war to start shining through his actions.

He no longer felt any fear; any doubt. The only thing that guided Sigurd’s axe now was the desire to honor those who had fallen. Thora, Dag, Ulfar, Eirik -- this was for all of them. This was to ensure that their deaths wouldn’t be in vain. This... was for his clan.

“Aarrgh!” A familiar voice shouted, causing Sigurd to glance to his side.

In the distance, he spotted none other than Eivor himself burying an axe into the chest of an enemy raider, baring his teeth like a feral beast on the hunt. His eyes had been pried open by claws of adrenaline, and it was clear from the blood splatters staining his armor that he had already taken down his fair share of Kjotve’s men.

What the young warrior didn’t notice however, was the raider sneaking up from behind him.

“Eivor!” Sigurd exclaimed, dashing in his direction. “Behind you!”

The prince raised his sword in the air and slammed it downwards with an adamant amount of force, practically knocking the enemy’s head right off their shoulders. They dropped to the ground in an instant, and sank lifelessly into the mounds of snow.

Eivor took a moment to catch his breath, still processing the swift chain of events.

“...Thank you, Sigurd,” he said through labored breathing. The older man offered his hand and helped the blonde viking up to his feet, keeping an eye out for anymore men that may have been skulking in his blind spot.

“Don’t mention it.” He flicked his eyes around a bit. “Have you seen any sign of Kjotve?”

Eivor shook his head. “Not yet, and I doubt he’ll reveal himself anytime soon. He’s probably somewhere in the fort, using his men as a shield.”

“Then let’s make sure he has none to hide behind.” Sigurd stepped away from his lover, gesturing to the rest of the battlefield. “I’ll stay here and fight alongside our warriors. You focus on finding Kjotve. We cannot let him escape a second time.”

“Of course. Oh, and Sigurd?”

The prince paused. “Yes?”

Eivor’s expression softened with affection. “...Please, be careful.”

Sigurd returned the sentiment. “You as well, love. I’m not leaving this fort without you.”

~~~~~~~~~~

A WHILE LATER

Sprinting across the reddened snow like a madman, Eivor charged through the war-weathered fort as he searched for Kjotve, trying to ignore all the chaos surrounding him. Everywhere on the battlefield, the young man saw nothing but men and women from both sides falling to their knees in defeat, quivering in the presence of death.

Their anguished cries blurred together in Eivor’s ears, and their bodies began to topple over like trees being cut down. Not a shred of honor or bravery graced the morbid scene before him, and instead of finding glory, he found no more than a desperate desire to cling onto life.

It reminded him of when he was a child. Everything was identical to that horrid night when his parents died, and the sound of Kjotve’s name only enhanced the vividness of the awful memories he carried. He felt like the exact same boy who had fled from that ruined village -- only this time -- there was no one to save him.

He was alone... and so was Kjotve.

Taking a moment to gather his composure, Eivor strengthened his resolve and firmly held onto Varin’s axe, marching directly into the hellish atmosphere ahead. Foes of all sorts blocked his path with a multitude of threats -- including arrows and fire -- but none were enough to scare him off.

No matter how vicious their bite, or how large their shadow, Eivor refused to waver. He had spent so long trying to find Kjotve in this realm of ice and blood, that absolutely nothing would stop him anymore.

He came here to put an end to this war, and he would.

“Where are you, Kjotve?!” Eivor roared, prowling through the embers. “Come out and fight me! I know you’re there!”

Stomping through bedlam, the young warrior wildly swung his axe at the raiders standing in his way and struck them down one by one, stopping at nothing to find the man who had hunted him for all these years. His thoughts raced with the struggles he had endured to reach this point, and the voices of those he’d lost continued to sing in his head, urging him to keep going.

A primitive fear of death wracked the very core of his soul, but even then, Eivor couldn’t bring himself to retreat. A newfound defiance had been bred in his heart despite the dangers ahead, and in a strange way, his fear pushed him further.

“I will find you!” The Wolf-Kissed bellowed at the top of his lungs, lodging his axe into an enemy’s neck. “You think you can hide forever? You’ve taken my home, my parents, my sister, my honor! You no longer have any power over me!”

He carved his way through yet another group of foes and let out a ferocious shout, bashing his axe with so much force that sparks danced off the blade upon impact. By now, there was nothing but a trail of corpses lying in Eivor’s wake, and in the distance, he could see an all-too-familiar silhouette gazing down at him from the battlements above.

They didn’t move a muscle, nor did they say a word. They simply stood there in silence, watching as the tension in their kingdom finally reached a breaking point. The battle-axe on their shoulder was enough to tell Eivor who it was, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop when they made eye contact with each other.

They both knew why the Wolf-Kissed was there. They both knew what he wanted. Even though they had spent decades straying from the fire Kjotve sparked all those years ago, they had finally found their way back to one another, ready to guide this saga to a close.

Strolling away from the battlements, Kjotve turned on his heel and began heading down the stairs, beckoning Eivor to follow him outside the fort. It didn’t look like he had any additional men in his company, and for the first time since their initial encounter, the younger man didn’t get the impression that this was a trap.

They were both eager to bid farewell to this lifelong rivalry. The Nornir had planned for this day all along, and soon enough, the ending to their story would be scrawled in blood. The only question that remained -- was who would provide the ink.

~~~~~~~~~~

OUTSIDE THE FORT

THRYMR’S TOMB, NORTHERN HALF

Treading carefully through the gathering storm, Eivor approached Kjotve from behind as the older man awaited his arrival, quietly taking in the view of the crumbling fort. Despite being outside its walls, the two of them could still hear the sounds of battle seeping through the cracks of its weathered stone, howling from beyond the veil of snow.

It was like a different world out here. Not a single soul disturbed the barren landscape, and the merciless weather had almost wiped out the scene of the war entirely. Only Eivor and Kjotve stood on the icy plates of Thrymr’s Tomb, and if they listened hard enough, they could practically hear the gods calling out to them, whispering in a tongue that evaded their comprehension. They were alone in this place, and somehow, the idea of that brought comfort to Eivor’s nerves.

They had an arena all to themselves, and that was just the way Eivor liked it.

“Here I am.” He announced, stopping in his tracks. The island’s river lay not too far away from him, filling his ears with the sound of rushing water.

Kjotve turned around at the greeting, giving his opponent no more than a glance. “...Here you are.”

The Wolf-Kissed took a few steps closer, careful not to provoke him just yet. “You waited for the enemy with your back turned to them? I can’t tell if it’s courage or hubris that drives you.”

A chuckle fluttered from Kjotve’s lips. “For all your flaws, Eivor, I know how much you value honor. You wouldn’t attack a man from his back.”

Eivor’s brow furrowed in anger. “...But you would.”

“A trait of mine that many look down on, no doubt. And yet, here I am, one step away from conquering the entire kingdom. There is no honor to be found in war, so I don’t bother with it.”

Kjotve took hold of his weapon. “But enough. We didn’t come here for idle chatter. You’re here for one thing and one thing only. Aren’t you, Varinsson?”

Eivor felt something spur inside him at the sound of his father’s name. “...Let’s bring an end to this, Kjotve. Enough running. Enough fighting. Just you... and me.”

“Eager as always. So be it. You’ve been a thorn in my side for long enough. I’ll gladly send you to the Corpse Hall. It’s just a shame that you won’t be able to see your father again, isn’t it?” He displayed a small smirk. “The price of honor, I suppose.”

Gripping the hilt of his axe with both hands, Kjotve slowly readied his stance and locked eyes with Eivor, watching him like a beast studying its prey. Meanwhile, the younger man began circling his opponent and held his weapon out in front of him, waiting for the right moment to strike.

The world around them was still with a deathly silence.

It seemed as if the very heavens had come to a halt to witness the grand spectacle, and even the ocean itself had fallen into a trance-like serenity. There was nothing to distract them, or divert their senses, and the battle at the fort had long since departed from their minds.

The gods had finally granted Eivor his chance to reclaim Varin’s honor, and he didn’t intend to waste it.

Lunging forward with a sudden surge of vigor, the young warrior landed a number of blows on Kjotve’s armor before springing back and evading the counter-attack that followed, forcing him to roll across the ground.

He pushed himself off the ice and quickly returned to his feet, whirling around to face the giant striding towards him.

In the blink of an eye, Kjotve heaved his axe above his shoulders and slammed the bearded weapon down onto the snow, missing Eivor’s head by no more than a few centimeters.

The blonde viking jumped to the side and used the opening to swing his axe at Kjotve’s face, causing the blade to slice straight through the lobe of his ear. Blood instantly came pouring down from the wound and onto the fur of the king’s cape, painting the hairs with a vibrant layer of red. A handful of droplets also plummeted to the ground beneath, marking Kjotve’s every move with a fresh trail of blood.

As for Eivor, he carried on with his assault and relentlessly threw one attack after another, refusing to give his enemy the chance to breathe. Unfortunately for him, a man of Kjotve’s stature was not so easily bested, and the Wolf-Kissed soon found himself on the receiving end of a direct hit from the other man’s weapon.

The gargantuan axe bludgeoned Eivor in the stomach and sent him soaring backwards, causing the wind to be knocked out of his lungs. Thanks to his armor, the blade didn’t make contact with his flesh, but he had still been struck with enough force that his abdomen now writhed in pain.

He stumbled for a moment due to the sensation and attempted to regain his footing, only to be kicked back down when Kjotve jabbed the tip of his boot into his gut. The king then proceeded to bash Eivor’s axe out of his hand by punting it from his grasp, allowing it to slide across the frozen terrain.

“Heh,” Kjotve said with a laugh. “Is that the best Varin’s son has to offer? All these years of tracking me down, and you’ve already been rendered defenseless.” He tilted his head in a patronizing manner. “I almost pity you.”

In spite of the soreness now spreading throughout his body, Eivor simply responded to the taunt with a feral war cry and yanked a dagger from one of the sheathes on his back, plunging the blade into Kjotve’s foot.

The king instantly roared in agony and toppled to his knees, unable to ignore the newfound pain now clutching his leg. Eivor tackled him to the ground as soon as he was staggered and climbed on top of him, desperately trying to press the dagger into his throat.

Due to his lighter physique however, Kjotve easily shoved the weapon away from his neck and pushed Eivor off of him with a punch to the cheek, creating a small distance between them. Eivor took this opportunity to retrieve his axe and returned to his feet, assuming his original stance. Not too far away from him, Kjotve did the same -- only now -- he had been cursed with a limp.

“...You won’t kill me that easily.” Eivor panted out, his breath turning into mist. “I’ve fought for too long to let you walk away now. Even if I die for it, this war will end today. You won’t leave this island alive.”

Kjotve sighed and approached the wounded viking, using his axe as a support.

“Ah... just like your mother. Fighting til the very end. An admirable mindset to have, but one doomed to end in futility nonetheless.” He straightened his posture, clenching his jaw in pain. “You’ll fall, Eivor. You, your clan, your king... you’ll all join Varin and Rosta soon enough. And then, Norway will be united under one crown -- mine.”

Trudging in Eivor’s direction, Kjotve carried on with his pursuit despite the injury he had just sustained and prepared to finish the other man off, prowling towards him with bloodlust in his gaze.

Just as the two of them resumed the fight however, a sudden growl reached their ears, leading them to come to a pause. They diverted their attention to the blizzard surrounding them and fell silent, trying to peer through the wintry fog.

For a while, there was nothing. No footsteps, no figures, no movement. Not even a shadow.

The environment appeared just the same as before, and after a few moments of waiting, Eivor began to wonder if the disruptive sound had just been a trick of the mind.

Before his doubts could fully settle in though, the sound of a raven’s caw abruptly pierced through the air, echoing across the land like a summon from the gods. Synin herself emerged from the sky and started gliding down towards her companion, rescuing him just like she did when he was a child.

Perplexed by her arrival, Eivor stared at Synin in shock and watched as she soared over his head, vanishing into the storm beyond. At first, he didn’t understand the meaning behind her intervention or what she hoped to accomplish, but once she departed from the island, it all made sense.

Out of nowhere, a pack of white wolves leapt out from behind the fog and charged towards the barbarian king, allured by the scent of his blood. Their fangs glimmered viciously with ropes of saliva, and their eyes swelled at the sight of their next meal.

“What the--?!” Kjotve exclaimed in surprise, brandishing his axe at them. “Where’d you come from? Stay back!”

Pouncing on Kjotve, the wolves overwhelmed the colossal king in spite of his attempts to fend them off and immediately started tearing at his flesh, thrashing him around like a rag doll. The growing discomfort in his foot caused him to collapse to the ground, and before he knew it, the feral beasts were feasting on him without mercy.

Initially, Eivor felt a sense of relief upon seeing the wolves finish his job for him, but after a while, there was a certain emotion building up in his chest that he just couldn’t suppress. The sheer amount of agony behind Kjotve’s screams was enough to shake him to the core, and surprisingly, he found himself beginning to pity the man.

Eivor hadn’t forgotten what it was like to be attacked by a wolf. Despite the fact that he had carried his scar for over a decade, the terror of that night still remained vivid in his head.

He may have hated Kjotve with every fiber of his being, but even then, it was difficult for him to condemn someone to such a torturous death. Humanity was a trait often lost during war, and the last thing Eivor wanted was to lose his own.

He had come here to reclaim his father’s honor. To restore peace.

The suffering of others was something he wished to end -- and it all started now.

Rushing towards the wolves, Eivor waved his axe at the beasts and threatened them with a series of shouts, hoping to distract them from Kjotve. At first, they merely challenged his actions and growled in response, but were easily scared off once it became clear he wasn’t backing down.

Waiting for them to clear the area, Eivor guarded Kjotve until the wolves disappeared from his sight completely, and kept his eyes sharp for any other animals that may have been roaming around. The wolves didn’t show any signs of coming back to finish their meal, and for the time being, it was just the two of them again.

As for the fallen king, he had been transformed into nothing but the mauled scraps of an abandoned feast, and left in a pool of his own blood. Bits of bone could be seen peeking through his skin, and his hands trembled both out of shock and pain.

Eivor gazed down at the ghastly sight, unable to hide his disgust.

“Your breath hasn’t faltered yet.” He said, admittedly impressed by Kjotve’s survival.

The other man whimpered, croaking out a short reply. “...You... you saved me. Why? D-Didn’t want the wolves... to claim your prize...?”

The young warrior shook his head. “You mistake my mercy for malice. I may despise you for everything you’ve taken from me... but it is not my place to carry out your judgement.”

Kjotve scoffed. “...Then... whose is it?”

Eivor knelt beside his enemy, looking directly into his eyes. “Wherever you go from here, it is the gods who will determine your fate. The only thing I can do... is send you to them. You’ll die as you lived. Without honor.”

He positioned his axe under Kjotve’s chin, eager to finish this once and for all.

“Goodbye, Kjotve. This world will be better off without you.”

Yanking the blade across his throat, Eivor executed the king in one swift move and freed him from his suffering, watching as the life drained from his soul. His body fell limp soon after the killing blow, and a final breath escaped from his lips.

...Eivor could scarcely believe it.

Kjotve was dead.

Kjotve was actually dead.

After countless years of grief, loss, and sacrifice... the war had finally come to an end. Just like that.

There were no cheers of excitement, or horns of fanfare. There was only the deafening silence that had been left behind by the dead.

Was this truly what victory felt like, Eivor wondered? Was this that glorious moment that had been spun in so many tales, and sung by every bard?

He didn’t feel like a hero, nor did he feel any pride. All he felt was a blossom of relief like none other, and the crushing weight of endless regrets.

A beam of contentment was starting to shine in his heart now that Kjotve had officially been slain, and Eivor didn’t wish to spend anymore time on this forsaken island. The only thing he longed for was the warmth of Sigurd’s embrace... but he didn’t even know if the man still lived.

Wandering away from Kjotve’s corpse, Eivor left the king buried in the ice and allowed the gods to take him from Midgard, not even sparing a second glance. A wave of memories flooded his head as he drifted back to the fort, and for just a second, he could’ve sworn he saw his parents watching him from across the river.

Eivor had no doubt that their appearance was merely a result of the battle’s ordeals, but even in his dazed state, he was able to make out the faint figures of both his parents.

They were standing side-by-side, wrapped in each other’s arms and observing Eivor as he made his way back to the clan. They didn’t move, they didn’t speak -- all they did was gaze at him from behind the curtains of snow.

It was almost as if they wished to tell him that their spirits were finally at peace. They had endured a lifetime of torment trapped in Helheim’s depths thanks to Kjotve’s betrayal, and now, they could sleep, forever in each other’s company just as they were in life.

Eivor’s job was done at last, and he could move on from the grief that had burdened him for so long.

“...I did it, father.” He whispered, watching as the mysterious figures faded from his vision.

“You’re free.”

#hjarta #assassin's creed valhalla #ac valhalla #eivor wolfsmal #eivor wolfkissed #male eivor #eivor varinsson #sigurd styrbjornson #sigurd x male eivor #ac valhalla fanfic

12 notes · View notes

lifeistooshorttowasteyourtime · 3 years

Text

Different worlds, same heart - Chapter 5

To create a patronus, you need a happy memory but for Theseus is a hard job to do these days. (Y/N) pushes aside her situation to try and help him out but the tables turned and he reaches her particular philosophy of life.

PART 1 – PART 2 – PART 3 – PART 4

***

(Y/N) went back to the ministry five days later, after being just two days at home. But she couldn’t stop thinking about the time she was losing. The Aurors received her between applauses, that she didn’t think she deserved, and Tina hugged her softly. Both had spent most of the afternoons together but the Auror wasn’t convinced of (Y/N) going back to work so soon.

“As I’ve been informed by the minister, most of you are interested in learning the vanishing patronus, the one I did for you to find me” she said with a broken voice the last part before recuperating her security and looking with determination to the rest in the room “I was lucky to have my wand still with me to do it. It’s obviously a mix between the patronus and the vanishing spell, one of them has to be a non-verbal spell. I’m pretty sure most of you know how to do it, if you don’t, it’s okay. Don’t worry at all. For a start, the non-verbal spell is going to be the vanishing one, it’s easier, so you’ll invoke your patronus and, in the moment you feel your wand producing it, think about the vanishing spell. We’ll go further trying to make both charms without speaking, but step by step” she smiled “let’s give it a try, and remember, don’t get frustrated if it doesn’t work in the first try”.

“Show us please!” one of the Aurors yelled.

(Y/N) looked at her friends, Theseus who took a couple of steps towards her but nodded trying to encourage her, while Newt and Tina smiled at her. The woman closed her eyes and took a deep breath to concentrate. The Aurors saw the tip of her wand glow but nothing appeared. Then Theseus said out loud “revelio” and her patronus appeared, flying around the room.

“Come on, give it a try”.

The Aurors scattered around the room while she stayed aside looking at them, ready to give them suggestions if they were needed.

She smiled when Newt and Tina could do it at the first try and approached them to give them advices to take the next step, congratulating them in the process. Especially to Newt since he wasn’t an Auror and didn’t have the training.

(Y/N) flew around the room going to different Aurors until she located Theseus leaning on a wall, looking through his lashes to his teammates, his jaw clenched. She frowned and approached him, her questioning eyes making him look away. The woman decided to dismiss the class, encouraging them to practice at home, but her eyes told Theseus to stay where he was.

Newt and Tina approached them but, also with just a look from (Y/N), they left (Y/N) and Theseus by themselves. She smiled softly at him when he looked up and they walked without saying anything to the garden behind the ministry. They sat on a bench and she waited, gave him time, and he appreciated.

Theseus sighed and looked at his hands before speaking up “when I did a patronus in the past, I started with memories of my childhood or in Hogwarts, but when I met Leta and we got together, my memories for the patronus were always with her”.

(Y/N) nodded understanding what he was saying between lines “I see… I should say you will find new memories powerful enough to produce a patronus again but I don’t want to”.

Theseus looked up at her confused and she smiled sadly “I want to tell you that one day, though I can’t tell you when, you will produce a patronus with those memories with Leta because your heart won’t be angry and hurt. Your heart will cherish that you could share those moments with her”.

The Auror swallowed trying to keep his composure and she coughed turning away from him “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have… I mean…”.

“Since Leta died” he interrupted her making (Y/N) looked at him “no one, and I mean no one, has been brave enough to talk to me about her. And I haven’t been brave enough either to talk about her because…” he sighed looking down.

(Y/N) licked her lips and put her hand on his arm “every one has their own rhythm to grieve and you are taking a step right now” she smiled slightly at him “as I say in my classes, step by step”.

The Auror put his hand over hers, squeezing it softly “thank you (Y/N), you can’t imagine how much this helps”.

They smiled at each other before pulling away. They stayed in silence for a while, enjoying the rare sun of that afternoon before it disappeared.

“You know what I think of to produce a patronus?” she asked without waiting an answer of him of course, but he smiled seeing her enthusiasm “at the beginning I thought about a summer with my parents and cousins, then the OWLS”.

Theseus raised an eyebrow and she chuckled “don’t judge me, it was so rewarding for me!” he laughed and nodded letting her continue “and after that, my memory is always the same… My first class as a professor” she turned to him with a bright smile “I was so SO nervous, but I had such an adrenaline when I started to explain and all kids were looking at me with those curious eyes… When it ended I knew it was my place, where I had to be”.

He smiled “I think it’s the perfect memory, yes… Are you sure you don’t want to come back? I know that you…”.

“I have to do this for them, for the kids, for their future” she stopped him.

They stared at each other for a few seconds before he shook his head smiling “Gryffindor lost a great member with you”.

(Y/N) pressed her lips into a thin line looking down, her blush evident, and Theseus couldn’t help but chuckle seeing her reacting that way to compliments. He cherished those moments, actually.

That night, Theseus was in his home thinking about his conversation with (Y/N). Anyone would had told him exactly that he would move on, that he would find new memories to make him happy. But (Y/N) wasn’t like others. She understood his feelings and encourage him to grieve and let his feelings transform. He might make such happy memories, but he didn’t want to forget about those made with Leta. And (Y/N) understood that.

Suddenly he was startled when there were quick knocks on his main’s door house. It was late, so he took his wand and approached the door. If it was an enemy it wouldn’t have knocked, but he couldn’t be too cautelous those days.

“Who is it?” he asked clearly.

“Theseus…”.

He frowned recognizing (Y/N)’s voice, he opened the door but with his wand still raised. Her eyes were red and her cheeks stained with dry tears.

“What did you call me the first time we met?” he asked slowly.

She smiled sadly “I said you were an arrogant and I didn’t need a pompous Gryffindor to tell me where my place was”.

Theseus pulled away his wand and opened the door enough for her to step into his house. She breathed hard for a few seconds before looking up at him “I… I-I didn’t know where to go…”.

He ushered her into his living room and invited her to sit down on the sofa “have you been attacked? Are you injured?”.

“No, it’s not that… It’s… I… This is so embarrassing…”.

Theseus pressed his lips into a thin line, he could imagine why she was there. The Auror put his hand on her shoulder and spoke softly “I’m going to make a tea, get yourself comfortable”.

She nodded while he went to the kitchen. Shortly after, he went back and gave her a cup of tea.

“I know this is not appropriate at all” she rubbed her eye sighing “I made sure no one saw me enter the house, I don’t want to stain your reputation and…”.

“You are rambling, (Y/N)” he said stopping her with a small smile “and I don’t care what people may say, like at all. If you need to come here, for any matter, you’ll be more than welcome”.

The woman looked at him with a small smile and he analysed her face for a few seconds “you can’t sleep”.

It wasn’t a question. She nodded and sighed “every time I close my eyes I’m there again… And I can’t take more medicine or I will be dependent on it” she looked at him shyly, which was such a contrast from her persona when she was in the ministry “and I didn’t know where to go, I’m… I’m all alone here…”.

Her eyes filled with tears and Theseus put away her cup and left it on the coffee table before taking her between his arms, hugging her “hey, hey it’s okay”.

Theseus, although he knew her as a strong woman, he waited for her to break down. As much as she pretended she was fine after she was found, she was human. And she had gone through a trauma that no one should have gone through alone.

“You are not alone” he whispered against her hair “I’m here, okay? I’m here”.

(Y/N) nodded and hugged him back, finding comfort in his warmth and soft words.

“Thank you, Theseus” she mumbled against his chest before pulling away and wiping away her cheeks “what a Gryffindor” she chuckled.

The Auror shook his head and gave her the cup of tea “showing me your vulnerability it’s brave too, you know? And coming here even though people can talk about us” he said joking the last part, making her laugh.

They drank the tea while talking softly about her nightmares and Theseus giving her advices about going through that. Theseus saw her getting sleepy, and as much as she wanted to fight it, she fell asleep on his sofa. He smiled and took her to a spare room and let her sleep, hopefully a dreamless one.

Luckily, she slept peacefully but when she woke up, (Y/N) was so embarrassed she couldn’t look at Theseus. He reassured her it was fine, and laughed more than once seeing her so blushed.

“It amazes me how shy you can get when you usually carry yourself with so much confidence”.

She shrugged pushing a strand of her hair behind her ear “I am confident in my work because I’m good at it” he smiled “and because people respect people with confidence and, because of my shyness, I’ve not always been respected. I mean, just because I don’t always speak up, it doesn’t mean I don’t have opinions or don’t deserve the same respect as others”.

Theseus frowned and licked his lips “this philosophy comes from your parents?”.

(Y/N) sighed and looked up at him “not exactly. They reproached me how shy I was, but they didn’t worry about me not speaking up my thoughts but because of my shyness in social meetings and things like that. I decided that I would be confident in what I believe in to be respect. And just the people I choose, the ones I’m comfortable with, would see my true self” she sighed “some people could say I lie or I have two faces but, everyone behaves differently in their areas of life”.

“That much is true and I’m flattered you feel comfortable enough with me to show your shyness”.

(Y/N) smiled at him “who would have told us this after I call you an arrogant and pompous Gryffindor?”.

Theseus chuckled “you did quite an impression on me, that’s why I kept insisting”.

They both laughed.

“I have to go back home and shower, and change my clothes… I… I don’t know how to thank you what you’ve done for me today. Truly, I don’t know how and I’m good with words”.

The Auror chuckled and shook his head “no need to, truly” repeated making her laugh “we raise each other up, I think is a good dynamic”.

She nodded agreeing and they smiled at each other knowing that their relationship was definitely different.

#theseus scamander #theseus #theseus scamander x reader #theseus scamander fanfic #theseus scamander fanfiction #theseus scamander imagine #theseus scamander imagines #fantastic beasts and where to find them

89 notes · View notes

starrywhump · 4 years

Note

Hero is outnumbered and captured bonus points if it is a recapturing and hero knows exactlybwhat will happen of they are recaptured and fights it as much as possible extra bonus points if sidekick who was told to hide trys to help hero only to get captured themselves and hero feels worse because now SK will be subject to the one thing hero was trying to get them to avoid. Triple Bonus points if the situation of capturing is SKs fault cuse they didnt listen to hero

“Give up Hero, you can’t beat all of us,” the Villain smiled at the sight of their pray completely trapped.

A ring of the Villain’s strongest men surrounded the Hero.

The air crackled and popped, a faint glow surrounded the Hero. The adrenaline brought on from being so utterly outmatched feeding into their powers. Their hair floated around their face, their face was set in a serious grimace.

“Stop with the theatrics darling, you’ll hurt yourself.”

The Hero gulped, trying to maintain their composure. Their mind was going a mile a minute, trying to figure out a way out of this. If they stayed calm and focused, maybe they could win this. They didn’t have to fight them all, just enough to get an opportunity to escape.

Even if they couldn’t win, they would rather go down fighting then surrender to the Villain. To go back to... back then.

“Oh darling, you look absolutely amazing like this,” the Villain cupped the Hero’s face. They held it up to examine the Hero’s assorted cuts and bruises, the evidence of hours of the Villain’s hard work.

The Hero let out a broken keen, everything hurt. They didn’t have the strength to fight back or even move by themselves, so they let the Villain move them as they wanted.

“I think you can be even better. Some more bruises, the purple brings out your eyes. God and red is absolutely your color! We only have a little more to do, I will make you perfect.”

nonononononono

Fear and power surged through their body, their blood turned to liquid flames under their skin. A wave of light burst out from the Hero, knocking away the closest of the Villain’s goons.

The air grew hot as the Hero’s power extended out to slam against more of their attackers.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” the Villain’s was calm, unbothered by the Hero’s sudden increase in capability. A smirk was plastered across their face, they had the Hero exactly where they wanted.

The color drained from the Hero’s face, the heat and light in the air disappeared. They were frozen staring at the Villain.

The Villain holding a knife against their teammate’s throat. Their Sidekick who they had made promise to stay away from the Villain.

But there they were wide-eyed and trembling in the Villain’s grasp.

“What are you thinking! I won’t let you go!” The Sidekick grabbed the Hero’s arms, pleading with them.

“You don’t have a choice, I need to face them. If it’s not me than the burden falls on someone else.”

“So let it fall on someone else! Hero, please it doesn’t always have to be you. Let me help you, so at least you’re not alone. I can fight... I can help!”

The Hero sighed, “I know you can. But that’s exactly why you can’t. Someone needs to be around if I... Besides, no one else needs to get hurt. This is my mess.”

“But-”

“Promise me. Promise me you’ll stay away, that you won’t interfere, no matter what.”

“o-ok”

“Let them go,” the Hero’s voice shook.

“No, I don’t think I will. In fact, I think you aren’t in a place to be making demands.”

The Hero moved from their frozen stance, moving their hands up above their head, “I give up, just let them go. They won’t fight you, if you let them go, they will walk out of here without any trouble.”

The Villain ran their free hand through the Sidekick’s hair, “Hmmm, is that true little one?”

The Sidekick flinched away from the Villain’s touch.

“They seem pretty feisty to me. Since your egotistical, self-sacrificing tendencies have obviously rubbed off on them, I do believe they thought they were going to save you. That they are strong enough to save you,” The Villain chuckled, pushing the knife farther into the Sidekick’s neck, causing a few droplets to bead along the edge of the knife, “Tell me, do you feel strong now?”

The Sidekick ignored the Villain’s mocks, schooling their expression, even as their eyes filled with panic, “Fuck you,” they gritted out.

The Villain laughed at the Sidekick’s outburst.

The Hero glared at the Sidekick, silently telling them to shut up, “Then tie them up,” the moved their eyes back up to the Villain’s, “Leave them here. Even if they try to follow you later they won’t be able to find me, we both know that.”

The Villain grinned, clearly relishing how much the Hero was still affected by their time together, “And why are you so sure I want you back? Maybe I just want you dead.”

The Hero clenched their jaw, “you won’t kill me, you like hurting me too much,” tears stung their eyes as they spoke.

“I do, I do... But the thing is I very much enjoyed breaking you. And you’re already broken-”

“I am not broken-”

“Do not interrupt me, not unless you’d like your friend here to die.”

The Sidekick yelped as the Villain suddenly increase their grip’s pressure, blood flowed more freely.

“No! Don’t, I won’t interrupt!” The Hero had to stop themselves from running to the Sidekick.

“That’s hardly an apology,” the Villain’s smile grew, enjoying this game of cat and mouse. They both knew what the Villain wanted, and they both knew the Hero was going to give it to them.

“I-I’m sorry.”

“You know better than that pet.”

The buildup of tears in the Hero’s eyes finally spilled over, trickling down their cheeks, “I’m sorry... sir.”

The Sidekick’s eyes widened at the sight of their mentor’s blatant surrender. The Hero looked at the floor, not wanting to meet their gaze.

“See what I mean? Broken. I don’t know if you’ll be fun anymore. But, here, delivered to me on a silver platter, is a new, fresh plaything. Full of fire, just like you were back then.”

“No! No, I said I’d go back with you. Stop with these games and just let them go!” the air sizzled as the Hero yelled.

The Villain’s paused, “and you will go willingly?”

“Yes. Yes, I’ll do whatever you want, just let them go.”

“Hmmm,” the Villain mused, looking between the Sidekick and the Hero.

“I’ll go,” the Sidekick’s voice was small but firm, they were scared out of their wits but still trying to save the Hero.

“No, you won’t!” The Hero’s eyes blazed with even more anger than before.

“Hold them,” the Villain shoved the Sidekick towards some of the few of their workers left standing after the Hero’s attack.

The Sidekick reacted quickly fighting against the men trying to get a hold on them.

The Villain looked to the Hero, sending them an unspoken threat.

“Sidekick! Stop. Do what they say,” the Hero ordered.

The Sidekick paused for just a moment surprised by the Hero’s words. That was all it took for the Villain’s men to get a grasp on the Sidekick’s arms, roughly shoving them down on their knees.

“Tie them, gag as well,” the Villain ordered. The men nodded.

With that taken care of the Villain turned their attention back to the Hero, “For you, I have something special,” from their belt they detached a part of thick black cuffs.

They approached the Hero slowly, enjoying each step.

The Hero looked ahead blankly. They held themselves back from running or attacking as the Villain came to be only a few inches from their face.

“I’ll have you know these are custom made, I spared no expense,” The Villain reached up to grab the Hero’s wrists, moving them down in front of their body.

The Hero let their body be moved as the Villain wanted.

Up close the cuffs didn’t look that special, just two black bands of some type of metal with a bar between them, they softly clicked into place around the Hero’s wrists.

The Villain moved their hand to the middle of the cuffs, pushing in a small panel on the underside of the cuffs. There was a soft pop and the Hero felt a jolt of pain in the inside of their wrists. They grimaced.

“Oh if you think that hurts wait until you feel what happens in, three, two, one-”

The Hero took in a strangled gasp. Weakness, spread through them. Panic washed over them. Their legs gave out, they fell forward into the Villain.

The Villain lowered the Hero down to the ground, “it’ll pass. You just need to get used to it.”

The Hero couldn’t breathe. The warm comforting feeling of their powers inside them was replaced with a terrible hollow feeling. It hurt. They couldn’t move, or breathe, nothing worked. They weren’t whole and they couldn’t-

“Calm down it won’t be any easier to work through if you’re panicking,” the Villain stroked the side of the Hero’s face, “it must be hard suddenly losing something you’ve had since birth.”

The Hero looked up to the Villain in horror, “..h-how?”

“I made it just for you. Specifically to render you utterly powerless. These cuffs administer a dose directly to your bloodstream. And this is just the basic version, when we get back to the compound we can try out all the different variations I’ve made for you,” the Villain moved their hand up into the Hero’s hair, running their hand through it.

The Hero sobbed.

The Villain stood gesturing to a few of their men to come get the Hero. One of them lifted the Hero, holding them bridal style. In any other circumstance, the Hero would have fought tooth and nail to get out of such an embarrassing situation. But even if they wanted too, the Hero could barely move. Their head lolled back over the man’s arm.

“Into the van,” the Villain ordered. They looked over at the Sidekick, now bound with rope, “them too.”

The men holding the Sidekick began to drag them after the Hero.

“No! You...you said...they could go,” they Hero struggled to form the words. But they had to make sure the Sidekick would go free. They had to, or this was all for nothing.

“Really? I don’t remember ever saying that.”

No. Nononononono they were such an idiot. Of course, the Villain wouldn’t let the Sidekick go.

And now they were too weak to try and fight them, powerless to stop them from doing whatever they wanted.

This was exactly what the Villain wanted.

How could they have been so stupid?

Now the Sidekick would be hurt and it was their fault.

Why did they think they could save anyone, they couldn’t even save themselves.

Another sob escaped the Hero.

The man holding the Hero dropped them down into the back of the Villain’s van. The Sidekick was shoved in next to them, they stopped fighting the men to get over to the Hero. The Sidekick’s hands were tied behind their back, and they were gagged, but they tried to convey as much comfort as they could through their eyes.

The Hero didn’t notice, their eyes were squeezed shut, trying to work through the cocktail of pain, guilt, and fear in their head.

The van doors slammed shut. Leaving the pair in total darkness.

#whump #sidekick #hero #villain #hero/villain #superhero whump #creepy whumper #flashbacks #conditioning #pain #poison #sacrifice #capture #kidnapping #recapture #knife to throat #knifes #blood #crying

135 notes · View notes

quillsandtypos · 3 years

Text

The Plan of the Century

Words: 2.2k

Summary: anon requested a fic for one of my head cannons that Luke has gotten tickled once by his band mates and they swore to never do it again

Warnings: a LOT of tickling (like if you don't like it I wouldn't recommend reading this)

...........................................

"Alright boys you ready?" Reggie asked, still running on adrenaline fumes from the show.

"Yes!" Bobby cheered. He squatted down like he was ready to pounce.

Alex pushed his hair back. "Guys, are you sure this is a good idea?" he asked uncertainly.

"No, but we gotta do it man, I mean come on, doesn't he deserve it?" Bobby asked.

Alex took a deep breath in. "You're right, we have to do this." He got into a running position.

He paused there for a moment before realizing that both his band mates hadn't moved.

Alex turned around. "Aren't you guys supposed to go around back and from the side?" he asked.

"Oh, right, yep!" Reggie exclaimed, before running out the side door.

"Wait, I thought I was-" Bobby stopped mid sentence before yelling, "Nevermind!" and running off.

"Yeah, there's no way this could possibly go wrong," Alex remarked.

Soon enough Alex saw a stage light flash above him, which he knew was his cue. He sprinted into the back hallway that they had entered earlier that evening and as he turned the corner he came face to face with their target, none other than their fourth band mate, Luke.

Alex froze in his spot. "Hi Alex," Luke sang. Confused, but slightly amused at his friend's startled state.

"Yeah, hi," he managed to stumble out.

"Did you need something?" There was a hint of genuine concern in his voice that Alex was genuinely upset but he couldn't quite tell. Before he could get closer to him to ask him what was wrong, he saw Reggie running up behind him.

"This is for tickling us all the time!" Reggie yelled.

"Yeah I think you missed the point where you're not supposed to announce your attack," Luke sarcastically commented, before taking off into a run.

He slipped past Alex with minimal effort and headed up the nearest set of stairs.

He faintly heard Reggie yelling something but he was already quite a distance away. He paused once he went up a couple levels to what looked to be a dance studio. He peered around in the dark for any sign of his other band mates but saw no sign of them. He settled for the far left corner of the room and sat down.

He tried to listen to the sound of footsteps, and soon enough heard them.

He could tell that Bobby was at the front and Reggie and Alex were trailing him.

Then the footsteps on the stairs stopped. For a moment everything stood still until his bandmates stepped onto the dance floor that he was currently sitting on.

"Luuuuuuuke," Bobby sang out.

Luke resisted the urge to scoff, two could play at that game.

He scrunched himself in the corner as much as he could and pulled a pencil out of his pocket. As quickly as he could he threw it to the other side of the room.

Alex screamed, Bobby jumped five feet in the air, and Reggie fell to the ground.

It took every bit of Luke's composure not to start laughing at his friends.

"I'm out, good luck you two," Alex attempted to announce, but Reggie pulled him back.

"Uh-uh you agreed to this, you're staying with us," he insisted.

"Guys he has to be in this room if he threw that pencil," Bobby realized.

"Oh does anyone have a flashlight?" Reggie asked.

"Why would we have a flashlight? Some of us don't plan to be in a dark ass room where Luke could pop out at any minute," Alex ranted. He was a little bit stressed about the current situation, to say the least.

"Okay each of you guys go to a corner, he's gotta be in one of them," Bobby guessed.

Reggie and him started to move but Alex stayed put. "Have you guys never seen horror movies, this-" he pointed around, "is how people die."

"Relax it's just Luke. I mean, what could he possibly dOHOHO!" Reggie's sentence was stopped in his tracks by his panicked laughter.

"Yeah, what could he possibly do Reg?" Luke mocked, as he squeezed at his armpits.

"Let's get him Alex!" Bobby yelled across the room.

The two boys ran to where they heard Reggie's laughter. They couldn't really tell who was who, so they both piled on top of Reggie and Luke.

The four were a mess of flying limbs and Reggie's laugh was still somewhere in the mix.

Luke had unfortunately gotten pinned to the bottom of the stack, so even despite his strength over the three, he wasn't going anywhere.

Reggie was quick to notice this situation. “Bobby get his arms and Alex sit on his legs!” he instructed.

Luke attempted to crawl away but with three people scrambling over top of him it was proving to be nearly impossible.

Soon enough the two boys had a decent hold on him. But despite his exposed position, Luke was not giving up.

“You guys are so dead once I get out,” he calmly commented. His face showed no fear, but there was a slight smirk on his lips.

“Yeah, once you get out,” Bobby emphasized on the once.

Reggie’s hand was slowly descending towards Luke’s stomach but he just glared at Reggie’s face.

But as the hand touched his stomach he had to fight his facial muscles to continue not reacting.

Reggie was grinning from ear “Come on Luke, you know you want to laugh,” Reggie teased.

“No I don’t, asshole,” Luke rushed out to avoid laughing.

“Oh Reg try to claw at his stomach,” Alex suggested.

“Oh, good idea!”

The second his hand turned into a claw Luke quite literally screamed. Despite his low voice, he descended into high pitched giggles. But his adorable giggles greatly contradicted the words coming out of his mouth.

“Youhohou arhahare ahahall soho fuhucking dhehead!” he yelled.

“Oh my god his laugh is sooooo cute!” Almost cute enough for Reggie to forget what he was doing.

“Wait, try doing it faster,” Bobby advised. His eyes were alight with a proud fire that they had dethroned Luke.

As Reggie picked up his intensity and Luke let out an ear piercing screech. In fact, his laughter was more now screeching and yelling than laughter.

In the heat of his screaming Luke came up with an idea. He reached his arms back a little bit to squeeze at Bobby’s sides.

He screeched and flew back; which left only Alex on his legs. He quickly managed to push him off before going straight for Reggie.

“See I told you, you were dead,” he said proudly, and slightly out of breath.

He started tasering up and down his ribs, right in between his bones. As he was doing this, Bobby recovered from his tumble. He tried to come save Reggie but Luke saw him coming from the corner of his eye. One hand stayed on Reggie while the other squeezed Bobby’s nearest calf. He quickly tumbled to the ground right next to Reggie which made Luke’s job even easier. He moved so he could have one knee on each of their legs to hold them in place.

“Well what a problem you two have landed yourselves in.” Luke said with a fire both in his eyes and in his voice, that the two knew they had royally fucked up.

They exchanged a look of slight fear before turning back to face their impending doom.

“Ya know I think now would be a good time to practice playing my guitar.”

There were several protests and no’s, but they were of course ignored.

Luke harshly brushed his hands across their stomachs taking amusement in their very different reactions. Reggie was loudly giggling with his eyes squeezed back whereas Bobby was cackling and his eyes would go wide the closer Luke got to his waist.

After a few minutes of his ‘guitar practice’ Luke decided to practice some other things.

“I think my singing’s been getting better because I’ve learned how to use my air efficiently. But I guess there’s only one way I can really know.” He rolled both of their shirts up slightly and there was definitely a scream of ‘Luke no!’ which Bobby would deny he did till this day.

He kept one hand spidering on one person’s stomach as he blew raspberries on the other.

Reggie thought his soul was going to come out of his body when it came his turn. He wasn’t certain if it had anything to do with Luke’s ability to sing, but he knew it tickled like hell.

Reggie’s eyes squeezed even tighter, and he tried to curl in on himself; but Luke was there, so he couldn’t.

Both boys couldn’t handle the back and forth of spidering and raspberries. They were both screaming so loud and high pitched Luke was surprised no one had come in to make sure they were still all alive.

“So do you guys wanna tell me who is the best tickler, or do I need to keep demonstrating for you?” Luke smugly asked.

“Yoohohu!” Reggie immediately agreed.

“Mehehe!” Bobby replied. He evidently still had a little bit of fight in him.

What was that Bobby?” Luke asked. He now was repeatedly blowing raspberry after raspberry on his tummy, and after about 10, Bobby gave into defeat.

Luke smiled evilly, and started slowing his fingers. “And who’s never going to try to tickle me again?”

“Uhuhus!” they both yelled.

“I think, I might need to make sure.”

Before they could utter another cry of no, Luke was squeezing Bobby’s quads and was vibrating his hand into Reggie’s ribs. They were losing it, not only is Luke freakishly good at tickling but he was tickling each of their worst spots.

They both were screeching and belly laughing. Their bodies could no longer even bother to fight off Luke’s hands, they just laid there and took it. They laughed until their voices went hoarse.

“So who’s not going to try tickling me again?” Luke asked. He stopped his hands but kept them in the same place.

“Us, us definitely us!” they agreed.

Luke was satisfied with that answer and crawled off of them. He turned around him to see that Alex was nowhere to be seen; which made sense, since it had been several minutes.

Luke took off downstairs to where he assumed Alex was. He noticed Alex on the small balcony on the side of the stage. He quieted his steps as he raced down to the next floor. He ran across the back edge of where hours ago was filled with people. Luke quickly reached the steps to the balcony. He slowly and stealthily snuck up on them. Alex was perched on his toes looking for Luke, he unfortunately didn’t bother to look behind him.

“Gotcha!” he yelled as he grabbed Alex and pinned him to the ground.

“Wait, Luke! Wait, wait, wait, I didn’t even want to be a part of this plan,” Alex quickly spoke.

Luke arched his eyebrows. “Then why did you help Reggie?” He lightly placed his hand on his neck.

“What?” Alex asked, momentarily forgetting his earlier comment.

“Oh fuck.”

Luke chuckled slightly at his friend's response before lightly fluttering his fingers across Alex’s neck.

Alex quickly clamped down on Luke’s hands, though he knew that wouldn’t stop him.

“Uh oh Alex, now my fingers won’t be able to get out,” he teased with a mischievous look in his eyes.

“Shuhuhut ihihihit!” Alex groaned.

“Ooooooh bad choice of words bro.”

One hand stayed at his neck while the other harshly squeezed at his sides.

“AhahahAAHHA nooooo!” Alex yelled.

His laughter would jump up than back down as Luke constantly changed how much he squeezed his side.

Alex was quickly turning into a giggly mess at Luke’s revenge.

“So who’s the best tickler in sunset curve?” Luke asked innocently.

Alex loudly responded with a giggly ‘you!’.

“And who’s not going to try to tickle me ever again?”

“Meheheh!” Alex surrendered.

“Hold on I just gotta make sure.” He dipped his head down to blow raspberries on Alex’s stomach, still not letting up with his other hands.

Alex quickly went silent except for occasionally letting out a small snort. After five, Luke decided to let up on him.

They were shortly joined by a still red faced Reggie and Bobby. “You’re lucky, he went way harder on us,” Reggie said pointing to himself and Bobby.

Luke turned to them and swiftly walked up to them. They backed up equally fast, until their backs hit the wall. “But if you ever try it again, it will be ten times worse,” he threatened.

Bobby held his hands up in surrender. “Yep, got it,” Reggie said.

He turned again, “And Alex-” he started to say.

“Yep, got it, don’t have to worry about me, I swear,” Alex promised, with his hands up.

Luke grinned, “Alright boys, I’m starving, let’s go eat.”

And since that very day the boys have stayed true to their word, out of fear of Luke’s revenge.

29 notes · View notes

anarchyduck · 3 years

Text

Fourteen Million Six Hundred and Six

Day 14: Peter Snaps

WARNING: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH

AO3

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

The van explodes and sends a shock wave throughout the battlefield that knocks everyone nearby off their feet.

Peter rolls down a small hill, coming to a sudden stop against a pile of rubble that briefly knocks the wind from him. With a pained grunt, he stumbles to his feet, blinking as he fights to clear his vision.

The gauntlet. Where, where...

“Karen, do you see it?” he frantically asks his AI as he looks around.

His HUD lights up as Karen replies, “120 feet to your right.”

Peter turns his head and sees the gauntlet, outlined and lit up.

Unguarded.

Unprotected.

He can reach it if he runs.

Iron Man is closer though and Peter watches as his mentor rams into Thanos’ side. The impact knocks the giant purple alien only a couple feet back, not nearly enough. The giant backhands him hard, sending him flying back to the ground.

“Tony!” Peter shouts as he watches the scene, feeling rooted to the spot where he stands.

Thanos goes for the gauntlet again but is waylaid by Thor. Captain America leaps onto Thanos’ back, making the Titan stumble and kick the gauntlet. It rolls down a small hill, bounces off a pile of rubble before finally coming to a stop.

In front of Peter.

A flash of light catches his eye as Captain Marvel rushes past him to fight the Titan herself. Peter searches the grounds and sees both Thor and Captain America down, the latter not moving.

The gauntlet lies at his feet. He can reach it and then he can… he can…

Can what?

With the van destroyed, there is no hope in ensuring the Stones are out of Thanos’ reach. Captain Marvel could send it up to space or they could kill Thanos to prevent him from getting the Stones again.

The Titan is too strong, and Peter realizes in a flash of despair they cannot win this. If Thanos gets his hands on the Stones again, it is over. He will kill them all.

What are they supposed to do?

Peter looks up, catches a glimpse of Doctor Strange across the field. The man is preoccupied by holding back water from the busted dam, but he holds up a single digit, eyes focused on someone else.

“I went forward in time to view alternate futures. To see all the possible outcomes of the coming conflict”

“How many did you see?”

“Fourteen million six hundred and five.”

“How many did we win?”

Peter sees the gauntlet still on the ground and it is open for the taking. He moves without thinking.

The ground shakes and Peter’s sense spikes high as he hears the roar of the desperate and angry Titan. Heart pounds in his chest, adrenaline pushing him past his fear, past the pain, closer and closer until finally it is in his hands.

Peter spins on heel, sees the terrifying image of Thanos charging towards him. Mind blanks and all he can hear is Doctor Strange’s voice again.

“... all possible outcomes of the coming conflict.”

The gauntlet reshapes and reforms to fit his hand. A light flashes as the Stones settle in place and blinding pain courses through him. Peter’s knees buckle as he lets out an anguished cry. Power beyond his understanding thrums in his hand, snaking up his arm, over his chest like rivers of molten lava. Peter feels the fire carve into his face and it hurts so bad, please someone make it stop-

“How many did we win?”

“Peter! No!” he hears Tony’s scream as he brings his fingers together. His vision clears briefly, and he is struck with twisted satisfaction as he sees the clear terror on Thanos’ face.

“... One.”

Peter snaps his fingers, and the world goes white.

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

Thanos’ army dissipates around him, leaving only dust that the wind carries away before disappearing completely. The Titan warlord disappears with them with hardly a word.

The relief Tony feels as he watches Thanos turn to dust is not comforting. He runs, stumbling over rubble in a race to reach Peter in time. The kid somehow remains upright and only begins to collapse when Tony reaches him.

“Kid! Kid, I got you. I got you.” Tony eases them both down, holding the kid in his arms. “Peter?”

Peter’s right arm is mangled beyond recognition. The burns extend up to his face, leaving part of it charred and bloody. The stones twinkle and shine in the gauntlet where it lies on the ground beside his limp hand.

“Pete? Talk to me, kid.” Tony touches Peter’s unmarred cheek with his bare hand, panicked at how cool the boy’s skin feels.

Peter’s eyes flicker towards him, unfocused and unseeing. “‘ony…”

“I’m here, kid. I got you.” Tony’s throat tightens and he swallows past the sob that threatens to choke him. His mind instantly flashes back to Titan, of holding Peter as he turned to dust. Tony’s grip tightens around the teen.

Peter’s brow twitches. “May…” he whimpers.

A flash of blue catches his eye and Tony looks up, seeing Pepper kneel on the other side. Their eyes meet and he shakes his head. Her eyes glisten as she looks to the boy and sweeps her fingers through his matted curls. Tears fall from her eyes as she murmurs soft words of comfort.

“May…” Peter says again, quieter. “’ony…”

Tony’s heart breaks and it takes everything he has to keep composure. “Don’t worry, she’s fine. Everyone is fine. You’re going to see your aunt real soon a-and I’ll introduce you to my little girl, Morgan. She’s going to be so excited to finally meet you.” He feels Peter growing limp in his arms and he holds him tighter, forcing himself to smile while he begins to rock with the boy. “I’m so proud of you, Peter. You did so good. So good.”

Peter’s lips twitch with a ghost of a smile. His breathes grow shallower and sporadic until finally he takes no more.

Tony continues rocking him, holds him close as if Peter is his own. “It wasn’t supposed to be you… it wasn’t supposed…” he sobs. “Please… please, I can’t lose you twice. I just got you back, please…”

The battle is over, and the world is saved.

And Peter is gone.

#webpril 2021 day 14 #webpril 2021 #peter parker #tony stark #irondad #spiderman #iron man #marvel #mcu #tw: character death #duckie's writing

16 notes · View notes

coreastories · 4 years

Text

The Morning Before

Part 11 of Days and Nights of Forever

The morning before she let him go, for what could well have been forever.

Companion to the first part of The Thirteenth Rule

I love Episode 15. So much tenderness there, and so much heartbreak that it's my first time rewatching certain scenes when I finally decided to flesh out THIS outline.

This is for Patty @pateetsie, who sent me a bucket of joy, and wanted some fluff. There's fluff here. :)

I've been cussed out told that there is no fluff in this chapter at all AT ALL. 😅

It was raining. Soft rain. The kind that washed away sleet if any had come in the cold night, the kind that spring asserted against any last vestiges of winter. And she was warm, so very warm with Gon spooning her and breathing onto her hair under their shared blanket.

She wiped her eyes and swallowed the sniffling that had woken her up. He was here. There was no need for this.

Gon tightened his arms around her--gently, without disturbing her wound--and kissed her on her hairline. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

She turned in his arms and she saw love and… something else in his eyes. She focused on love. Focused on how he looked like he wanted to kiss her. Focused on all the affection in that gaze. So she smiled at him and smiled wider when she saw that other thing recede from his eyes, even if just for now.

His eyes brightened even more when she stroked his arm, clad in the sleeves of hospital pajamas. “What happened to your clothes? You didn’t get stabbed too while I was asleep?”

“Your nurse happened. She gave me this to wear and took my clothes to the laundry. She felt sorry for me trying to fit into this bed in those clothes.”

“Oh yeah. That jacket certainly wasn’t for sleeping in.” She made a face. “Were they filthy?”

He grinned. “I don’t know. Probably. Frozen time and space also worked on my entire excretory system but I did go out of that place several times. Did I smell when you saw me in 2016? And last night? I’ve showered before getting back in here with you.”

She shook her head, laughing.

The rain continued in the background, falling a little harder, but still a soft, pleasant background as he kissed her.

Tae-Eul sighed into that kiss, loving the feel of his lips and tongue against hers and ignoring the tears that spilled from her eyes again. He had also kissed her last night, but she was already half asleep by then, exhausted from everything, her adrenaline and her brain shutting down the moment Gon was finally there beside her, promising he wouldn’t leave her.

So now she focused on that kiss. And nothing else. The sound of the rain helped.

He brushed his thumbs against her cheeks and eyes, and kissed her eyelids and forehead, his hand a warm, solid weight on her cheek and neck. She placed her hand over his, wrapping her fingers around his thumb.

He nodded.

“I’m sorry,” he said again.

She shook her head again. “Don’t mind me. I’m just glad you’re here. Don’t go.”

They both ignored what returned to his eyes.

She moved to get up and he nimbly jumped off the bed and rounded it to help her sit up without straining her middle.

She usually had to roll to her right side and then use her elbow and arm to lever herself up. But he made things simple, wrapping his arm around her and simply lifting her up.

She smiled up at him. “Thanks. Can you help me? My hair wash day was supposed to be yesterday. But I was busy.”

His expression said he wasn’t happy about that, but he grinned all the same. “Of course. I can help you wash everything.”

She slapped him on the arm and left him to laugh at his own dorkiness, pushing him aside to go to the bathroom.

Having him there helped. Instead of struggling over the sink and getting the front of her hospital gown wet anyway despite covering it with a towel, he held a wash basin under her chin so she didn’t have to bend over to wash her face.

They did the same thing when she brushed her teeth.

Then he used the already damp towel to cushion the rim of the sink. He helped her position her head on that towel cushion just so, and he washed her hair, digging his fingers into her scalp, his eyes warm and attentive. Watching for any discomfort. Watching, period. She held his gaze for the first minute, then closed her eyes because the sight of him just...filled her so much and made her spill over with tears. It was ridiculous.

But was it only yesterday that she didn’t know if she was ever going to see him again?

Only yesterday when she felt both sad and relieved that she wasn’t--

She took a deep breath. She wasn’t going to dwell on any of that today.

They had today and she hoped it was going to be a long day.

She opened her eyes and he was still looking at her, now with one hand guiding the handheld shower over her hair and the other on her forehead so the water from her rinse wouldn’t run down her face.

“You’re really good at this. You can go professional.”

“No one would hire me. Everyone else would lose their tips because the customers would flock to me.”

They both laughed. She loved seeing him laugh. She had missed that laugh so much.

He wrapped her hair in the towel, tucking everything carefully so she wouldn’t drip, and then helped her get up again. Once she was on her feet, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and tucked her against him.

Her arms were already around his waist, her hands stroking his back. She loved how warm he felt under the thick cotton pajamas. Loved the solid feel of him enclosing her. Loved the weight of his head as he pressed his cheek against the towel securely knotted around her hair.

Loved that he was there for her to hold.

They stayed like that, just holding each other, until they heard someone enter her hospital room outside the en suite. He took her hand and they went out together. The nurse paused on her way out the door. She looked at them and smiled.

“I left your clothes there for you,” she said to Gon, then turned to Tae-Eul. “They’ll send breakfast in a bit. I’ll make sure it’s enough for two. Then I’ll come back with your IV and check on your wound.”

She just smiled again when they both bowed to thank her.

Tae-Eul looked at Gon. “What did you tell her? Why does she love us so much? She wasn’t happy with me last night.”

He raised his eyebrows and smiled in that half-smug, half-self-deprecating way only he could pull off. “Maybe we just look good and romantic?”

“Romantic is not the word in my head right now, but it rhymes.”

Breakfast was quick. She just wanted to start the day. Maybe they could sneak out now that the rain had stopped and the sun was out. She was already done with her bowl of dakjuk before it occurred to her that she could have made Gon feed her. Ridiculous thought. But maybe later.

The nurse came back and scolded Tae-Eul for removing her IV while she redid it all. Tae-Eul didn’t flinch, but Gon did. When the nurse left, Tae-Eul said, “You’re not scared of needles, are you?”

“Of course not. But this is the second time I’m seeing you with an IV. That’s two times too many.”

“I’ll take an IV over a cast any day.”

He rolled his eyes but only shook his head in wry amusement.

He changed back to his black pullover and trousers in the en suite and then they were back to staring at each other while he blow dried her hair.

She wanted to ask him what he was thinking of, but she already knew, so she took hold of his pullover between her fingers, and it was enough to quiet her rising panic.

“I bet you take longer getting your hair done.”

“Not really. It’s fast when you have the right tools and two people doing the work,” he said with a straight face. He laughed at the look on her face. “It’s really just mousse and gel, you know.”

“Why don’t you just slick it back like Jo Yeong does with his hair?”

“Too easy. And he’s been doing it since he got tired of his bowl cut. So I can’t exactly copy him.”

“He had a bowl cut?”

“Yeah. It looked ridiculous. You were so cute as a kid. I saw your pictures at your house, of course, but seeing you in person was different. You were probably so cute as a baby.”

“No, no, I wasn’t a pretty baby.” This wasn’t a subject she wanted, though she applauded herself for being able to say the word baby now. She was going to be fine. “Let’s go downstairs for my checkup so we can go outside.”

She was glad Gon didn’t have to be there when her bandage was changed. The wound was clean but still angry, and it was going to leave an inch of scarring despite the good stitching. She took her antibiotics and the nurse injected another dose of pain meds in her IV.

She wondered how long she could stay awake with those doses in her bloodstream, but she managed. Oh, she managed.

That morning was beautiful, even if she was warned against straining herself and had to be wheeled around, even if Gon was already steeling himself against that regret and unassailable decision she’d seen in his eyes, even with her barely hanging on to composure by touching him all she could.

He fed her bibimbap, and she fed him his bowl of instant ramyeon in return. When one noodle was too violent and broth splashed all over both their faces, they wiped each other’s cheeks and mouths with their hands, laughing hard enough for her wound to twinge and remind her it was still there.

He helped her wash up, and then he helped her lie down because it was probably so obvious that she was fighting sleep.

She curled up facing him in his seat, and she memorized everything about him, that ridiculously perfect hair, his beautiful eyes, that nose, that cheek that hid her favorite dimple, those lips she knew could turn her breathless and mindless and boneless.

And his hands, both clasped and completely enveloping her hand. Those big hands that could deftly handle chalk, shoot hoops, fix cars, knock men down with a single stroke from his sword or his crop, hands that commanded the manpasikjeok and yet were also trapped by the manpasikjeok.

She closed her eyes so she wouldn’t cry again. “You’ll probably leave when I sleep.”

“No.”

All right. She’d take that. She smiled. She wanted to say, “Don’t go.” But that was no longer right to say now, not when their morning was fast turning into evening. She would sleep, and then maybe when she woke up, she would have a better argument than simply telling him they should just… not save the world.

She opened her eyes to drink him in, one last time. “Saranghae.”

He stroked her hair and pressed his lips to hers for several long moments. “Nado.”

#CoreaNews #CoreaFiction #the king eternal monarch #the king: eternal monarch #TKEM fanfic

69 notes · View notes

chaosmallet · 4 years

Text

Rescue

AO3 Link ♡

Sweat dripped down Amy’s brow as she took in weak, labored breaths, admiring the wreckage of Eggman’s latest line of badniks. This battle had caught the team by surprise and had been especially rough on them. Since the doctor disappeared again, everyone had taken a much needed break, and Robotnik had struck right when everyone’s guard was lowered. Although he was defeated again, no one was going to leave the battle unscathed. Amy thought that she had been especially lucky, maintaining only a few ugly bruises and a few minor cuts.

Sonic, Tails, and Knuckles had been out investigating reports of badnik sightings near Spiral Hill Village when they were quickly overwhelmed by a swarm of menacing robots. When Amy received a transmission from Tails asking for assistance, Shadow had been with her and insisted on coming with her to help.

From a few yards away, Shadow was now briskly walking towards her with his posture rigid and his fists clenched by his sides. He held Amy captive in his intense gaze, keeping her rooted in place as she pondered what the issue could be. Out of breath, the rest of the group watched as Shadow made his way up to her, too tired to ask him what was wrong. She didn’t have any time to react before his hand gripped her upper arm and they suddenly appeared in the middle of her living room.

Shadow immediately let go of Amy and turned away from her, walking away as his fists shook from both adrenaline and anger. The pink hedgehog was confused about his reaction to their victory and why he would Chaos Control them away so quickly rather than check up on Sonic, Tails, and Knuckles. Seeking answers, Amy followed him as he silently walked into the kitchen. He stopped right in the middle of the room, but didn’t turn around to face her.

“Shadow?” Amy called as she timidly reached out for him. He sharply turned around with such an intense glare on his face that Amy had to withdraw her hand and take a step back. After a few moments of silence, Shadow finally turned around to face her fully, arms crossed.

“...Why would you do that?” he questioned in a controlled tone. Amy could tell that he was holding back frustration, but over what, she didn’t know. At her lack of a response, Shadow quickly sucked in a breath and released a slow sigh, getting more frustrated over the lack of an explanation on Amy’s part. His fists clenched and unclenched again.

“Why were you being so reckless?” he asked, the venom in his voice now apparent. His unrelenting gaze dug right through her as if he was searching her for an answer.

After racking her brain for a few moments, Amy realized what he must have been talking about. During the battle, several super badniks that were at least three times his size had locked onto Shadow and were closing in on him from all directions. He had decided to break off from the group to lead the robots elsewhere and to keep everyone else out of harm’s way. As soon as she saw what he was doing, Amy knew that she couldn’t let him try to deal with all of those enemies alone.

As she ran after Shadow, she could see that he was already a bit worse for wear and was bleeding a considerable amount. Amy knew he could heal fast, but the sight was still something that made her stomach twist. Amy began to run even harder, pulling out her hammer and jumping over the closest robot with a shout of pure adrenaline. She managed to connect her hammer to the head of the robot she launched herself over, severely denting it and taking it out immediately. Fatigued, Amy took a second to pull her hammer out of the robot’s remains, stumbling backwards from the effort when her hammer finally popped free. Upon looking back at the rest of the fleet, she realized that the robots that were once focused on Shadow were now closing in on her. There was no way that she could move out of the way of their oncoming attack.

Suddenly, she was swept off her feet and was travelling at a dizzyingly impossible speed. Regaining her composure, she realized that Shadow was holding her while propelling them away from the horde of super badniks. She could hear the robot’s massive legs pound against the earth as they gave chase, but they were no match for Shadow’s speed. The black hedgehog’s expression was hard and focused on his surroundings, and Amy couldn’t help but admire his features while he was distracted on the task ahead.

In only a handful of seconds, they neared Sonic and the rest of the group who were almost finished with Eggman’s fleet of lower-level badniks. Catching sight of Shadow, Amy, and the machines chasing them, the team prepared themselves for one last push against Eggman’s horde of bots. Shadow raced past the rest of the group, nearing the edge of the battlefield. Once he was satisfied with his distance from the fight, Shadow came to a clean stop with assistance from his air shoes and set Amy down gently before racing back into the fray. Battered but determined, the hedgehog heroine gripped her hammer tightly and ran after him, determined to help finish the fight.

Pulling herself out of her thoughts, she realized that Shadow was still waiting on an answer to his question. Taking a few seconds to relax under his intense glare, she took a deep breath to steady herself.

“...I think it’s worth it,” Amy hesitantly started. “I think being reckless is worth it if I can protect the people that I care about.” Shadow squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose at her response.

“I am the Ultimate Lifeform, it’s my job to protect others, not yours,” Shadow responded, clearly not satisfied with the answer she gave him.

Amy’s brow furrowed, confused as to what his problem was. “How can you say that? You can still get hurt!”

“My skin deflects bullets Amy. I’m basically indestructible.”

“But you can still feel pain!”

“That is irrelevant. No one can heal as quickly as I can.”

“But I hate seeing you hurt Shadow!”

“I am the most durable member of the team. It’s best if I face the bigger challenges alone.”

“But you don’t have to fight alone! Who’s looking out for you then? I wanted to help you!”

“I don’t want any help from you if you’re going to jump in front of harm’s way so easily!”

“Why won’t you just drop this, Shadow?!”

“Because I can’t lose you! I won’t allow it!” Shadow shouted, a pained expression revealing itself on his face.

Amy gasped at the intensity of his words as tears gathered in her eyes, now understanding what Shadow must have been feeling. He had lost everyone he’d ever loved, and it would only take one mistake for him to lose her too. She gave Shadow a sad but understanding look before walking over and wrapping her arms around him. Although he remained motionless, Amy wanted him to know that she would never try to purposefully cause him distress. The full horror of the situation suddenly hit her as she cried out into his chest, sobs wracking her small frame. Shadow finally hugged her to him as if she could disappear at any moment; as if she were the most precious thing in the world.

“I’m so sorry Shadow,” Amy whispered into his chest, trying to hide her tear-streaked face from him. Shadow began to lightly rub her back in comfort.

“Please… be more careful.” Shadow murmured, his voice cracking from stress as he held her closer, tucking her head underneath his chin. He had never felt like this about anyone before, alive or otherwise, and he’d be damned if he was going to lose her now. Amy turned her head sideways on his chest so that she could hear his heartbeat, internally psyching herself up to tell Shadow what she was feeling.

“There’s no way I could leave you to fight alone,” Amy began. “Why don’t we just… always stick together. I’m still going to fight alongside you Shadow, but… I’ll be more careful. For you.”

Shadow only gave a soft grunt in reply. He knew how strong Amy was, and didn’t want to discredit her strength. It wasn’t her ability to fight that worried him, it was the unpredictability that all battles against Eggman usually had, and Shadow didn’t like the odds of Amy getting hurt. However, he knew that victory often came easier when fighting alongside others, especially those that cared deeply for each other. He felt that he could be victorious against any enemy as long as he had Amy by his side. He held her closer, relieved that she was here in his arms.

#shadamy #fanfic #my post #amy rose #shadow

18 notes · View notes

classysassy9791 · 4 years

Text

When a job goes terribly wrong, the Fairy Tail guild is left to pick up the pieces. Mourning the deaths of their guildmates, Lucy can't seem to find the strength to move forward. But she comes to realize one person understands. His madness was her mercy, and she finally began to hope that maybe he could make her heart beat again.

Fandom: Fairy Tail Genre: Adventure/Tragedy Warning: Character Death(s) Ch. 1 l

Chapter 2 Word Count: 4,700 Can also be found here

Humming her herself, Mirajane swept a cloth over the bar top, cleaning up the remnants of the party that had carried over from the day before. Some of her guildmates still hung around, most passed out drunk in various places, but a few, like Cana, were still lively.

“Another round!” the card mage called from the end of the bar, where her and a drunk Macao sat.

With an airy laugh, Mirajane moved to grab another drink from the tap. “I think Macao has had enough,” she mused, setting a mug down in front of Cana. “He may already be passed out.”

An incoherent grumble from the elder mage was her only response. The brunette grinned. “See? He’s not down for the count yet!”

“Oh goodness. Romeo is going to be so upset with me. I promised him I’d watch his father’s drinking,” Mirajane deplored.

“What are you, his keeper? Come on, it’s a celebration! Let him slide.”

“The celebration started three days ago back in Crocus.”

Cana pouted. “Way to kill the party, Mira.”

Suddenly, the guildhall doors burst open, slamming into the walls behind it, and startling the few patrons who were still somewhat conscious. Mirajane’s blue eyes rose, a smile on her face, expecting to see Team Natsu arriving back from the job they took that morning, but what she saw made her freeze in her tracks, a hand covering her mouth to suppress a gasp.

Loke stood in the doorway, his normally clean-kept suit tattered and torn, with an unconscious Lucy draped in his arms. Blood covered her face and clothes, soaking into the lion’s white shirt. Beside them stood her other spirit, Virgo, with a barely conscious Gray settled on her back.

“We need help!” Loke shouted, his wide eyes shifting over what remained of the Fairy Tail mages at such a late hour.

Mirajane pushed down her fear and took charge. “Bring them to the infirmary!” she commanded, pointing down the hallway.

“What happened?” her little sister, Lisanna, asked, bustling out from the back room at the sound of Loke’s cry.

“No time,” Loke urged, already moving down the hallway. “We need Wendy!”

“On it!” Lisanna disappeared out the door toward the girl’s dormitory to fetch the sky dragon slayer.

“I’ll go grab Master.” The barmaid was gone in a flash.

Loke heard a shout from Cana before she disappeared out the guildhall doors as he stepped into the infirmary. He laid Lucy down on one of the beds, brushing a few blonde strands of hair out of her face. Adrenaline pulsed through his veins as his mind ran a mile a minute. This wasn’t supposed to happen! This isn’t how it was supposed to be!

“Big Brother?” Virgo called from where she had laid Gray on another bed parallel to Lucy. “What are we going to do?”

The lion spirit shook his head, hazel eyes looking at his mage forlornly. “It’s going to kill her,” he murmured, his brows knitted tightly together. “It’s going to kill both of them.”

She folded her hands in front of her, blue eyes peering wistfully at the blonde. “They’re going to ask about them.”

“Then we don’t tell them,” he affirmed. “At least, not yet. Not until they’ve healed some. Let Wendy work her magic; let Lucy and Gray be oblivious for a while before they have to face what happened.”

Virgo nodded, giving a small bow. “As you wish.” In that moment she understood her assistance was no longer needed, and the drain she was placing on Lucy’s magic had become an impediment. In a flash of golden light, she was gone.

“What happened?!” Wendy shouted as she dashed into the room, dressed in her pajamas and blue hair an absolute mess. She stopped in her tracks as she took in the sight of Gray and Lucy - both battered, bloody, and unconscious. Her brown eyes wide, her hands flew to her mouth as she gasped. “Oh, no!”

“My word,” Charle chimed in as she flew in behind Wendy. “What on Earth happened here?”

Lisanna appeared beside them with a deep frown. “Where’s Natsu and Happy? And Erza?” she demanded.

Loke ignored her. “Wendy, please.”

She glanced between her charges before finally settling on Gray being the worst of the two. “I-I’ll do my best,” she assured, hands hovering over the wound in his abdomen and igniting a soft glow.

The youngest Strauss sibling turned fierce eyes on Loke. “They were only gone on a simple mission! How did this happen?!”

Just then, Makarov Dreyer entered the room, followed by an anxious Mirajane. The small man shuffled over to where his adopted children lay, worry lines creasing his brows. “They were on a mission to capture some bandits in the next town over,” he said, his expression grim. He turned accusing eyes on Lucy’s spirit. “Explain.”

“Let’s allow Wendy to work,” Loke instructed, gesturing toward the hallway. He, Mirajane, and the guild master exited the room, closing the door behind them and leaving the others to anxiously watch over Lucy and Gray. Loke exhaled deeply. “I’m not sure of the whole story,” he admitted quietly. “Lucy didn’t call me to her aide until the battle was already in full swing.”

“Battle?” Makarov echoed. “What battle?”

Loke leaned against the wall, folding his arms over his chest. “I don’t know what happened, but when she called me out, three demons from the books of Zeref were ravaging the town. There were fires and explosions - complete chaos.”

“That’s not right,” Mirajane said, shaking her head. “How did a mission to capture bandits turn into fighting demons?”

He pulled his lips into a tight line. “I don’t know. What I do know is that I was no match for whoever they were. Lucy was already low on magic energy by the time I was summoned. It seemed like they were giving it everything they had, but I could tell the fight was wearing them down. I didn’t last long before I had to go back to the celestial realm.”

“What of Natsu?” the master questioned. “And Erza?”

Loke dipped his gaze, his hands clenched tighter around himself. “They’re dead.”

Makarov stayed quiet for a moment, tears falling down his cheeks as he tried to discern the news. “My-My children…”

Loke’s voice quivered as he spoke. “Th-There was nothing we could do,” he whispered. “They managed to kill one of the demons off, but lost their own lives in the process.”

A hand flew to Mirajane’s mouth, tears springing into her eyes. “N-No!” she gasped, her legs giving way as she collapsed to her knees. “They-They can’t be-” She drew in shallow sharp breaths, her body trembling. “H-How can you be sure?”

“When… When I was finally able to return with my own magic to make sure Lucy was okay, I found her kneeling over Natsu and…” He took a deep breath to steady himself and cleared his throat. “Lucy found Erza, too.”

Makarov choked back a sob, his eyes full of fury. “How could this have happened? I don’t understand! Who dared to hurt my children?!”

Loke adjusted his glasses. “Like I said, I’m not entirely sure. The threat had gone by the time I returned, and I don’t know their whereabouts. I’m sure Lucy and Gray could tell you more, but I don’t think we should tell them anything until Wendy has done what she can. They need their rest. Let them live with ignorance for tonight.”

Blue eyes swimming with tears gazed up at them. “Wh-What are we supposed to do?” Mirajane whispered, her heart constricting painfully in her chest.

The master exhaled deeply, swiping tears from his eyes. “We need to bring them home. Let Wendy work her sky magic. I’ll send the Thunder Legion.”

“What about the rest of the guild?” Loke asked.

“There’s nothing they can do right now.” He sniffled, gathering his composure. “Allow them one last night of rest. Tomorrow…”

He let his sentence trail, not daring to finish it. He pushed his way back into the infirmary. Mirajane shook her head from where she had crumpled to the floor, her eyes wide and vision blurred.

“Erza… Natsu…” she whispered, squeezing the cloth of her dress over where her heart beat. Her body felt like lead, her tongue tasted like cough syrup, bitter and unwanted. It felt like deja vu, like the night she had lost Lisanna right before her eyes, leaving the guild broken and destroyed. They had lost one of their youngest mages, and it had rippled through everyone, leaving a scar upon their home.

But this… Losing two of their most treasured wizards in a single night… How could they survive this? Natsu… Erza… They were the forefront of the guild. They made everyone laugh and feel whole. Now who would pick up the pieces? Who would be there to make them laugh again?

Mirajane peered up at Loke, her body numb with the thoughts threatening to drown her. “Loke,” she mumbled earnestly, needing him to wake her from this nightmare.

The lion spirit slipped his hands into the pockets of his slacks. “I’m not going to tell you everything’s okay,” he mumbled, averting his eyes. “It’ll be a long time before it is again.”

With that, he disappeared, leaving a glitter of golden light to rain down on what remained of a disheveled and broken fairy.

...

The battlefield lay quiet, for now it was a graveyard for the unburied. Their corpses lay among the crumbled buildings and forget-me-nots. The sun had only risen and the wind still blew, but somewhere, families waited in vain. It seemed as if the majority of the townsfolk had not survived, leaving the rest to escape into the countryside.

Wide amber eyes swept over the wreckage. He heard a small gasp beside him, and a murmur of “holy hell”. They had been sent on a rescue mission, but from what they had been told, it was more of a retrieval - to bring their fallen brethren home.

“Fan out,” Laxus ordered, his voice cool and collected compared to the dread eating away at his stomach. “Search the area. And stay alert. We don’t know where the demons have wandered off to.”

Although hesitant, the Thunder Legion gave their nods of assent before each taking off in a different direction. Laxus began stepping over the wasteland, recalling the path in which Loke had described, where he was almost sure to find a pink-haired dragon slayer in his eternal slumber.

The thought made him sick.

How could that feisty kid, with so much fighting spirit, be bested by some demons? It just didn’t seem plausible. Laxus had called Loke a liar, refused his grandfather’s insistency, until he decided he needed to see it for himself. He could never believe Natsu was dead unless there was a body to prove it.

“Come on, kid,” he grumbled, his eyes sweeping over the expanse of the battlefield. “Where are you?”

It took almost an hour for Laxus to find Natsu, just passed the town square. He lay in a pool of his own cold blood, his eyes half-lidded and his face ashen. Nausea swirled unrestrained in Laxus’ empty stomach. His head swam with half-formed regrets and his heart felt as if his blood had become tar, struggling to keep a steady beat.

“Natsu…” Laxus almost choked on his name, falling to his knees beside him. He pushed the concrete off his chest and curled an arm around the dragon slayer’s head, feeling the ice cold of his skin, the stiffness of his limbs.

The bastard had died with a smile on his face.

His vision blurred with tears, and he suddenly couldn’t breathe. How… How had this happened? The Salamander, the Fire Dragon Slayer, dead…? He couldn’t wrap his mind around this new reality.

A piercing scream tore his gaze away from the boy in his arms to the direction Evergreen had wandered off in. He carefully wrapped Natsu in his fur-lined jacket and pulled him to his chest as he stood. The walk to where he heard his comrade scream from seemed like a lifetime, his footsteps heavy and staggered.

Evergreen knelt in the middle of the rubble, her body trembling from her sobs. Freed and Bickslow arrived just as Laxus did, their wide eyes glancing between the bundle in the thunder mage’s arms and the corpse Evergreen cried over.

“It-It can’t be,” Freed muttered, taking a step back as if he had been punched in the gut. “It can’t possibly be.”

Bickslow pulled his helmet free from his face, his mouth dropping open in an expression of stunned surprise. “No way…”

Evergreen turned to look at their leader, dark brown eyes overflowing with tears. “T-Titania is gone,” she cried. “The Qu-Queen of the Fairies is dead!”

Laxus didn’t need to check for himself. Just the image of Erza’s broken body was enough to confirm that she was gone. He clenched his jaw, trying to keep the tears at bay as he gripped Natsu tighter in his arms.

“Cover her,” he instructed quietly, nodding to the coat Evergreen wore. “Let’s bring our family home.”

“Wh-What about Happy?” Freed questioned, his voice breathy and uneven, as he remembered the blue exceed was still missing. “Has anyone found him?”

Everyone shook their heads. “I’ll go look for him,” Laxus offered, placing Natsu gently on the ground. He didn’t need to voice to his comrades that it was doubtful the cat had survived. If he had, he would have been by Natsu’s body, or with Lucy upon her return.

That morning, there was nothing but black smoke to line the glare of the sun.

...

“They’re going to be suspicious.”

Makarov focused his attention on the woman who entered his office. Mirajane looked exhausted, her eyes red and swollen, as if she had been up all night crying. He was sure that she had been. He hadn’t been able to sleep either.

“I know,” he replied to her comment, clenching the pen tighter in his hand. He had mindlessly been signing off on paperwork half the night, the only thing keeping his buried anger in check. “But Loke said-”

“To hell with what Loke said,” the take-over mage spat, her eyes fierce. “Erza and Natsu are dead. Happy is missing, meanwhile you leave Gray and Lucy, their teammates, in the dark?!”

The master furrowed his brows and gave her a hard stare. “It’s not only my decision to make. They need time to recover from their wounds.”

“What about the rest of the guild?” she argued, tears gathering in her eyes. “Are you going to leave them in the dark as well?”

He sighed, dropping his pen and running his hands over his balding head. “What am I going to say to them? I don’t have all the answers. I don’t even know what exactly happened or who was behind this.”

She took a deep breath to reel in her anger. “We are a family.” Her voice quivered. “We… We have just lost two of our own. There is no avoiding that pain. This will tear the entire guild apart. We need each other!”

Makarov averted his gaze to the window, watching as birds flew by. It was still early, but most of the guild would be arriving in the hall for breakfast. As is, he wouldn’t be able to hide the news of their family for long. There had been other members at the guild last night, albeit drunk, but they would be wondering what exactly had occurred. As far as they knew, something terrible had happened and the Thunder Legion had been sent to help.

“I hate to see my children suffering.” He felt his throat tighten as he drew in a breath. “It kills me to see it.”

Mirajane choked back a sob. “We-We need you, Master,” she cried, folding her arms around herself. “We-We can’t get through this without you.”

The old man stayed quiet for a moment. Regret washed over him, the what-ifs and should’ve-beens running through his mind. How he longed to go back and take a different path, to stop them from taking that mission, tell them he would cover Lucy’s rent so they could rest properly. But now… it was impossible. There was no way to turn back the hands of the clock. There was no way to make it right. And he knew the guilt would eat away at him for the rest of his days.

“All right,” he finally agreed quietly. He reluctantly stood from his chair and made his way to Mirajane’s side. “We’ll go inform Lucy and Gray first. Then the rest of the guild.”

She swiped at her tears. “Of course.”

“I’m just not sure how I’m supposed to break the news.” He sighed deeply, folding his hands behind his back.

“Do what you always do. Speak from the heart.”

“What could I say? Something poetic and beautiful?” He shook his head. “I can’t about this. Some situations are too hard to glorify.”

And a man whose stature was so large in every sense of the word… suddenly looked so small.

...

The sky was dark and explosive.

“This isn’t time to falter!”

Terror widened her bloodshot eyes.

“Please, just hold on a little longer!”

She felt burning in her chest and electricity in her veins.

“Lucy!”

She stood frozen, lips half open, as ash fell from the sky in flakes of grey.

“Lucy?!”

...

“Lucy?”

Her eyes rolled open, blinking blearily to clear the fog of sleep, only to be met with a look of concern. Wendy hovered over her bedside with her hands clasped gently around her own. Apparently she had been restless in her sleep, the sheets tangled around her and soaked with a cold sweat.

“Where…?” she tried to ask, her voice hoarse. She licked her dry, cracked lips.

“It’s okay. You’re at Fairy Tail,” the dragon slayer explained with a reassuring smile. “You’re safe.”

Lucy’s chest heaved as she breathed heavily, her nightmares fading as she focused on the stale walls of the infirmary. Her head whirled as she struggled to sit up, leaning against the headboard behind her, trying to remember how she had gotten there in the first place.

“Ow,” she groaned, wincing and curling an arm around her waist, which had been wrapped in bandages. Her entire body ached, and no matter how she moved, it was impossibly painful. “That really packs a punch.”

Wendy frowned. “I’m sorry. I’m still recovering from everything that happened in Crocus. I wasn’t able to do much, but Porlyusica has been helping me.”

“Porlyusica’s here?” the blonde questioned, furrowing her brows. If their medicinal advisor was here, they must be in pretty bad shape.

“Yeah, Jet brought her back last night.”

Brown eyes turned to the other bed, taking in the unconscious Gray. He didn’t seem much better off than she did. “Is he all right?”

“He’ll be okay,” Wendy promised. “He just needs to rest. You were both so depleted of magic energy, it’ll be a while before you regain your strength.”

She grasped her celestial keys from the nightstand, fiddling with them curiously, and feeling them warm with comfort from her touch. “What happened? I remember going on a job, but…”

Wendy shifted her feet nervously. “I’ll go let Master know you’re awake.” She quickly scampered out of the room, leaving the celestial mage alone.

Alone.

Lucy swept her gaze over the infirmary once more. Usually when she was injured, she’d have a pink-haired dragon slayer religiously at her bedside. Not often did he leave until he knew she was okay and out of danger. Where was he, anyways? Or Happy and Erza for that matter?

And then flashes from the night before came back full force, making her gasp for breath - the job, the bandits, the sudden appearance of Zeref’s demons, and the long fight that ensued afterwards. She remembered waking up after the entire town had been destroyed, finding Virgo and Gray, being comforted by Loke…

Because Erza and Natsu…

Hot tears sprang into her eyes as Lucy shook her head in denial. There was no way! Erza and Natsu couldn’t be dead. They were Erza and Natsu! Some of the strongest mages in the guild! No way could some monsters be the end of them.

“We’ll bring them home, Lucy.”

Loke’s soothing words replayed, and she felt her heart ease. That’s right. He promised he would bring their friends home, where Wendy could heal them. She smiled. Of course. What had she been thinking? Erza and Natsu were probably already in the hall eating. The two of them bounced back quickly enough.

She pulled her lips into a tight line, drawing her attention to Gray. His ashen complexion and the sweat beading his brow spoke of pain. She only hoped it would pass sooner rather than later.

Suddenly, a wave of exhaustion hit her and she sighed deeply. The battle they had been in really did a number on her. She had called on nearly every spirit in her arsenal, including Gemini to perform Urano Metria after she ultimately had to call on Loke. Even the Magic of the Stars hadn’t been enough to destroy the demons.

But a nagging thought pulled at her, the image of a fire dragon slayer coming to mind - a silly grin, blood dripping down his chin, an apology, and a shuddered breath. She swallowed thickly, remembering a bloody halo framing a queen, a cry of denial from her comrade, and the comforting embrace of a lion.

Every breath she expelled felt hollow in her chest. Her eyes turned as the door to the infirmary opened, revealing a small, elderly man and a silver-haired barmaid. “Ah, it’s good to see you awake,” he greeted.

Makarov’s expression spoke volumes, and her heart dropped to her stomach. “Master… Mira…,” Lucy mumbled as tears came to her eyes. Her chest constricted painfully, breathing becoming hard. She didn’t want to ask - didn’t want them to confirm what she already knew.

Their master stood at her bedside, his usually warm eyes hardened with grief. “Lucy, my dear. How are you feeling?”

She shook her head dismissively, wide eyes staring at her guildmates with building panic. “He’s… He’s gone, isn’t he?” she whispered. “Him and Erza and Happy…”

Mirajane sat on the edge of the bed, taking her hand gently, She rubbed soothing circles over her skin with the pad of her thumb, but stayed silent, giving Lucy all the confirmation she needed.

This isn’t real.

“I should’ve never let you take that mission. The outcome is my burden to bear,” Makarov explained, knowing his words held little weight if he could even begin to suspect what Lucy had witnessed. “I don’t want you to blame yourself for what happened. It wasn’t your fault.” He sighed deeply, wanting to further ask her exactly what had transpired on that battlefield, but seeing the crumbling expression on her face, he knew it wasn’t the time. First, they needed to grieve.

The emptiness in Lucy’s heart began to consume her. Brown eyes welled up and tears fell down her bandaged face, lips trembling.

This can’t be real.

Mirajane folded her hand over Lucy’s tighter, tears spilling down her cheeks. “Natsu, Erza, and Happy,” the takeover mage spoke, her voice hitching. “They didn’t make it. They all died in battle.”

At first there was silence - a misty haze upon the horizons of Lucy’s mind. That’s where she kept her emotions bottled up. That was… until now. She could feel the hard, painful lump in the back of her throat as the tears fell faster. Slowly, her breathing hollowed itself and a small, but intense pain struck the top nerve in her head.

Her upper body and shoulders wracked with every sob that forced its way out, chest rising and falling unevenly as she gasped for breath. She squeezed her eyes shut, covering her mouth with her hand as the tears dripped between her fingers. Before she knew it there was shouting, it was hers, and yet it seemed too distant. Time had fast forward. She couldn’t remember the briefest of moments. All she saw was her own fists grasping at her celestial keys for comfort, her tear-stained sheets. She even recognized her own voice repeating, “No, no, no!”

Then there were arms around her and she was being smothered by the scent of cake batter and alcohol. She faintly heard a soothing voice in her ear as her body shook with heartache.

Please don’t let me believe this is real!

It couldn’t have lasted long though, the screaming. A rushing sound filled her ears and all she knew were her hysterical cries that shook the infirmary walls. Deep down, she had known Natsu had died. He had taken his final breath in her arms with a smile on his face. But she hadn’t wanted to believe it. If she didn’t believe it, it couldn’t be true.

But here was someone else, someone else outside the realms of her mind that confirmed one of her deepest fears. Natsu… Erza… Happy… Their teammates. Their friends. Their family. They were all gone.

It took awhile for Lucy to finally calm down, for her to lift her face from Mirajane’s chest, which had been soaked with her tears. She glanced between them, their expressions twisted into one she was sure mirrored her own - filled with grief and despair.

And then her gaze landed on Gray, who remained blissfully unconscious through it all. “Wh-Where are they?” Lucy croaked, her voice hoarse from crying.

“The Thunder Legion just brought them home,” Makarov explained. “They will have a proper Fairy Tail send off.”

“Send off,” she echoed, scoffing bitterly as she pushed the tears from her cheeks. “Sounds like they’re just leaving the guild.”

Mirajane squeezed her hand affectionately, her own face red and blotchy from crying, as she turned her attention to Makarov. “Everyone from the guild will be arriving soon,” she reminded quietly. “They’ll have questions.”

He nodded solemnly. “I’ll have to make an announcement. I’ve already started on the arraignments.”

Lucy hiccupped, feeling a new wave of tears sting her eyes. “I-I can’t…”

The barmaid looked at her with concern. “Lucy, I’m here for you. I can stay with you if you want.”

She shook her head, blonde hair falling over her shoulders, as she pulled her hand free from Mirajane’s grasp. “No, you need to go with Master,” she reasoned. “I… I want to be alone.”

There was hesitation, and then she nodded robotically. She opened her mouth to speak, but they both knew there was nothing to say.

This was when the heroes, armed with the strength and courage of old, dueled against the ancient evil…

And lost.

16 notes · View notes