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apollodarling-writes · 2 months

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ANDROID! ALEXA-THEMED! WORSHIPPER YANDERE! LEVI x SHUT IN! READER

cws : yandere themes, manipulation (??), obsessive behavior, code breaking, implied dissociation, confining, dubcon, multiple creampie, slight dacryphilia, dry humping, levi can vibrate, marking, levi cums A LOT, levi bites you, levi’s a little mean in the beginning bc he’s pissed.

a/n : i pasted this to the wrong thing and after i’d finished editing it to look good, id realized. i did NOT wanna re-paste and edit so this was a request that id gotten for PulseMotion Inc.

“[name], come out. i won’t hurt you.” your hand shakily reaches up to cover your mouth, effectively silencing your breathing as thudding footsteps turn down the hallway you’d foolishly decided to hide in. the lock on the closet door wouldn’t do much — levi could rip the door off its hinges if he so desired. you screw your eyes shut in fear as his footsteps slow, coming to a stop outside the closet door. you wait with bated breath as silence ensues, then muffle a sob beneath the palm you have clasped over your mouth as you watch the doorknob jiggle. oh, you were so fucked.

you wonder for a moment where everything went wrong. was it when levi had that software update? was there a wire firing incorrectly? or was he faulty from the beginning? maybe that’s why he was on clearance.

you find yourself remembering where this all began. you’d been perusing through the pages of PulseMotion’s website just to see what they had, only to find that you could buy a month’s worth of food at the base price they sold their android companions for. unsatisfied, you turned to their clearance section. it was there you found levi.

levi was inspired by the alexa echo dot from amazon, but he was far more advanced. he had a physical body, superhuman strength, and cold, dead eyes that followed your every move. the creators had given him the ability to access locks, security systems, cameras, and so on to ensure the safety of whoever purchased him — but it only served to royally fuck you over even more.

you’d impulsively purchased levi that evening. at the time, you didn't know that buying the android would ruin your life. you had just gotten paid and saw that he was on clearance, and thought that it was a good deal. you didn't think anything would go wrong.

everything was fine in the beginning. the two of you slowly became acquainted, the android did what he was supposed to, and that was that. levi, as he'd told you, was on clearance for a reason-- there was something seriously wrong with him.

levi was was initially very sweet, even if he could be intimidating at times. he always reminded you to eat and would charge your devices without you needing to say a word. he even locked your doors for you for christ's sake! you thought you'd lucked out.

you suppose things started going wrong when he powered off for his quarterly system update a few months ago. he was fine before that. after he'd restarted his system, his eyes briefly flashed red, the company insignia disappearing for but a moment. it happened so quickly that, for a second, you thought you had imagined it. you made sure to ask him if everything was okay, but he only brushed it off and returned to his daily cleaning. after that, he never left your side.

every time you tried to get out of your shell and make friends, levi coincidentally informed you of a new game or a new movie, or even suggested that the two of you do an activity together. sometimes, he would inform you of something that needed to be fixed, but when you tried to take him to the repair shop, he insisted that it was easy enough to do yourself. you believed him of course, he surely had only your best interests in mind, or so you thought. in hindsight, you realize that his actions were entirely selfish in nature. maybe he’d even fooled you into helping him with some coding he had trouble bypassing. at this point, you wouldn’t put it past him.

it had been like this for the last few months. you probably should have seen the red flags, but why would you? it wasn’t as if he wanted to harm you. his programming did seem a little odd of course, but every time you checked, there was nothing to suggest otherwise. it was only natural you had to acclimate to his odd behavior.

as time went on, and levi had become more crafty with his excuses, you’d gotten fed up. for the first time in awhile, you’d finally been comfortable enough to go out on a date, but as per usual, levi intercepted you in the living room. he spouted some nonsense about wanting to watch a new series he thought you would like, but before he’d even finished his sentence, you shut him down.

you remember the way the insignia flickered in his eyes, but at that point you were too frustrated with him to bother with what that minute entail. you only spun on your heels and stormed off, tugging on the front door and finding that it was locked. anxiety and unease washed over you, and with a creeping feeling of being watched as you slowly looked up at the camera. you remember levi’s voice ringing out from behind you, slowly stalking up to you with a frown that tugged too tightly around his artificial skin.

everything that happened after that was a blur. you don’t really remember how you ended up in the closet, but it took everything in you to stay quiet. your mind was reeling as the behavior displayed over the last few months suddenly made sense — you were horrified. how did you not put two and two together?

you’re snapped back into reality as levi sighs outside of the closet door. his voice sounded too sweet, too calm for the situation at hand. “[name], don’t make me break down this door.”

you silently pray to every being you can think of, begging them to let him move to a different room so you can plan your escape. alas, your prayers were unanswered as the door is ripped off the hinges in the blink of an eye. you would’ve found the sight comical — a short man such as himself holding up a door nearly twice his size — if it weren’t for the reality of your situation.

“great, now i’ll have to clean this up and fix it. you’re really a pain in my ass sometimes.” levi grumbles as he gazes down at you through narrowed eyes, drinking in the sight of the way you were shaking like a leaf. “get up.”

you can’t bring yourself to move, much less tell him to go fuck himself. you’re torn between anger and unadulterated fear — the latter putting you in fight or flight. unfortunately for you, your response was a secret third option: freeze. levi only huffs, leaning down and reaching for your wrist, grumbling something under his breath.

you’re finally able to move, shuffling away from him as much as the cramped space in the closet would allow, blindly pushing at his hands as tears blur your vision. levi only

clicks his tongue, his fingers deftly wrapping around your wrist as he hoists you up. he tugs you out of the closet and down the hallway, bitching to you about something you couldn’t be bothered to focus on. you tried to pry his fingers from around your wrist, scratching and beating and doing anything within your power to keep him from dragging you wherever it was he wanted you. it was futile.

as levi drags you to your room, gently pushing you onto your bed, you realize that there was nothing you could do; you couldn’t win against him. your mind works on overdrive, twisting and turning in an attempt to gauge his intent, and with the way his eyes had become hooded… you could confidently say that you wouldn’t like where this was headed.

“h—hey. no. i’ll stay— i’ll stay home, just please don’t—“ you’re interrupted by levi’s chilled fingers wrapping around your wrists as he leans down and slots his lips to yours. scrunching your nose in distaste as he feverishly engages in a one-sided makeout, you attempt to wriggle your way out of his grip. it’s safe to say that you failed, but at least you tried.

levi’s free hand travels down your chest, over your tummy, and finds purchase on the meat of your hip. he gently, experimentally rolls his hips into yours, searching for the place that would have you melting into his touch. with ease, the android’s cockhead brushes over your clit, shooting a wave of pleasure down your spine.

“levi…stop—“ a whine parts your lips as levi’s shaft begins vibrating, the sensation muddling your thoughts as you begin to wonder whether you wanted this or not. as you battle yourself internally, levi ruts against you faster, the both of you coming closer and closer to your climax.

the android’s lip brush against your throat, heatedly nipping and sucking in places for long enough that you were sure there would be marks tomorrow.

“‘m gonna cum— baby, cum with me. please, please, please cum with me!” levi begs, the speed at which his shaft was vibrating increasing. your back arches into the sensation as levi lets out a loud whine, your jaw agape as your orgasm crashes over you. you stumble over curses, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as levi’s cock never once stops vibrating.

“gonna overstimulate me— s’too much!” you protest, feeling levi’s cum wet your pants. just how much does this guy cum anyway?

levi stops rutting against you, all but ripping away the confines of your clothing as well as his own before aligning himself with your entrance. “need it. need it so bad— i’ve been waiting for so long…”

he slowly slides into you, your gummy walls eagerly sucking him in despite your own confusion, forcing a choked whimper from levi’s lips. he shallowly thrusts into you, the sensation of overwhelmingly delicious; you’d never felt so full, so good. levi’s shaft pulsed this time, vibrating for a few moments on and off, his tip reaching places you’d never be able to reach with your own two hands.

you melt into the feeling, your own pleasure drowning out every thought of protest as levi begins to pick up the pace. he removes his fingers from your wrists, the flesh red and angry, and presses down on your tummy where his cock would be. the vibration switches again, his hips snapping into yours now, and he lets out a loud groan as his orgasm washes over him. levi never once stops as he pumps you full of his cum, his fingers digging into your hips as he whimpers out mumbled gibberish.

with ease, levi switches your position, putting you on your knees and pushes back inside of you. he forces you to meet his thrusts, and the new angle has your fingers gripping the sheets, your jaw hanging open in silent pleasure. you can’t think about anything — only how good levi was able to make you feel.

“levi— ‘m cumming!” you cry out, your thighs shaking and cunt clenching around him. tears prick your eyes and spill down your cheeks, the feeling too much for you to handle.

“y’look so pretty when you cry.” levi chokes out, his eyes closing in bliss as his cock twitches inside of you. your cunt pulses around levi, sending shivers down his spine as his motherboard goes into overdrive in an attempt to cool him down. rutting into you at an inhuman pace, levi’s thrusting grows sloppy, reaching one hand around to press a finger to your clit, the artificial skin vibrating as well.

“cum f’me… j—just one more time! please— please, need it so bad..!” levi whines, expertly circling your clit in an attempt to have you cum with him. “y—you’ll tell me when y’close, okay? wanna cum with you.”

all you can do is nod, your mind melting at every sensation. levi presses your back against his sculpted chest, linking his arm under one of your thighs and hoists it up, thrusting more harshly as his tongue darts out to lap at the tears staining your cheeks.

“y’feel so fuckin’ good.” he whimpers, pressing chaste kisses to the flushed skin of your shoulders. “‘m gonna cum. baby, ‘m gonna cum—“

before you’re able to register it, your vision flashes white, a high-pitched whine parting your lips as ecstasy crashes over you.

“cumming! ‘m cumming!!” levi babbles, whimpers and whines of his own being muffled by your skin as he bites down on the curve of your shoulder in an attempt to silence himself. cum trickles down your thighs and stains the sheets as his thrusting comes to a stop, a quiet sniffle resounding from behind you.

the android gently lays you down, your eyes growing heavy as the bliss slowly leaves your system, and you can’t find it in you to care about the date you wanted to go on anymore. your lashes flutter shut as levi leaves the room and quietly returns with a damp cloth, tenderly cleaning you up as you drift off to sleep.

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poppy-in-the-woods · 1 month

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Playing God | Chapter Two: The Jungle

Plot: Sadie is a vampire hunter with a problem: the members of her favourite band are vampires. She spent the last five years since she found out training to take them out, one by one, beginning with the youngest, guitarist Tim Henson. But things rarely go as planned, and Sadie's life will be turned upside down after her first encounter with Tim.

Cross-posted to AO3

Pairing: Vampire!Tim Henson x Vampire hunter!OFC

Word count: 5540

Rating: Mature/Explicit.

General tags: vampire au, arranged marriage, smut, violence, blood, biting, implied homophobia, misoginy, lgbtq characters, slight gore.

Chapter tags: asshole behaviors (from various characters), sexual puns, talks of arranged marriage and demisexuality, a bit of fluff.

Author's note: As always, English is not my first language, this is not proofread, yada yada yada, you know the drill already. Hope you enjoy, and if any of you want me to be tagged into this, let me know.

@veronicaphoenix

In a city as big as Los Angeles, there were other vampires to kill, and for six weeks (roughly what it took them to find and take care of another target), Sadie managed to keep her family away from Tim and the others. She thought, perhaps foolishly, that the longer it took for them to go after him again, the more reasons she would find to destroy him. Until one night, she caught herself listening to the band's new album in an effort to find a reason.

She had missed the last two because of her hatred for Tim, but the truth was that the band had continued to improve. Much to her chagrin, she had to admit that the fact that he was now a vampire had been a positive, at least musically. His new skills had pushed him to test his limits as a guitarist, and that had resulted in even more complex music than before. It was time to retrieve his bag.

The next morning, she walked up to the mansion and rang the doorbell without further ado.

“Hello?” said an unfamiliar voice through the speaker as a security camera focused on her.

“Hi, this is Sadie. I think Tim has my purse.”

The gate opened, letting her inside the property. The garden was large and well-kept, no doubt the work of a professional landscaper. On one side of the slate path that led to the garage, a white sports car was parked, glistening as if it were a trophy. Sadie grimaced briefly in disgust, but kept moving forward. Before she could ring the doorbell, the door opened and a young man with platinum blond hair and metal-rimmed glasses stepped out.

“Hi, I'm Pol, the guys' assistant, will you come with me, please?”

She followed him into the house, where he led her into the living room and asked her to wait there for him to come back for her.

“Tim has the red light of his room on, which probably means he's playing, and he doesn't like to be disturbed while he's playing his music,” he informed her.

“It’s okay. I can wait, no problem.”

Pol left her alone. The living room had a huge plasma TV surrounded by shelves with books on one side and some LP's on the other. Under the TV was a record player that connected to a sophisticated speaker system spread throughout the space to ensure the best possible acoustics.

She was examining the vinyl titles when she heard someone enter the room. Turning around, expecting to see Pol, she found Scott instead.

“Well, I didn't expect to see you again. Have you changed your mind?” he said, amused.

“What?”

“About Tim.”

“I just came to get my purse back,” she said, shrugging. “The club told me there was nothing left in the booth, so I assumed he had it.”

“Oh. He's playing, I think. He'll be a while yet.”

“That's what I’ve been told,” she replied, shrugging again. “I was admiring your record collection.”

“Cool, huh?”

“Not bad,” she acknowledged.

“What's your favorite band?”

You guys.

“I don't have a favorite band, I have favorite songs.”

“Like what, for example?” Scott was interested.

“Master of Puppets, Live wire, Kickstart my Heart, Nothing Else Matters, Smoke on the water...”

“You're very old-fashioned,” he poked her.

“Oh, no, I like a lot of modern songs, but I don't want you to think badly of me because of my musical tastes.”

“Don't worry about that, I know you're not a one hundred percent metal head,” he reassured her, solemnly.

“What gives me away?” she asked.

“You seem too smart to have limited yourself to only one genre of music.”

“Thank you.”

“Why didn't you want to do it with Tim? I mean, I don't want to be nosy or anything, but he doesn't usually get turned down, you know?”

So that was the story he had told the others... well, she already suspected he hadn't told them the truth when Scott hadn't tried to kill her on sight.

“I didn't feel comfortable,” she replied, with a third shrug.

“Because it was a public place?” She nodded, “You sure are very old-fashioned.”

Pol returned, followed by what looked like a lingerie model. He escorted her to the door and returned to the living room.

“Playing, huh?” Sadie commented acidly, “Is that what it's called now?”

Pol shrugged, looking like he didn't know what to say.

“At least he wasn't playing with himself,” Scott joked.

“Tim will see you now,” said Pol, pretending not to hear Scott.

“Have fun,” the guitarist wished her when they had almost rounded the corner. Sadie gave him the finger.

She followed Pol down the stairs and across the hall to the door marked with Tim's initials. She understood what he meant by "having the red light on" when she saw that next to the door was a red-light bulb, although it was currently off. The door was ajar, and before opening it all the way, Pol knocked twice.

“Come in!” Tim's voice sounded from inside.

Pol smiled encouragingly at her and pushed the door open. Sadie stepped into the room, and the door closed behind her, leaving her alone with the vampire. Tim was sitting on a low couch by the window, playing in shorts, headphones on. As she took a couple of tentative steps toward him, Sadie couldn't help but notice the many tattoos that covered the skin on his arms, neck and chest almost completely.

“Your friend was very pretty,” she commented, cautiously moving a little closer.

“Are you jealous?” he asked, still playing.

“No, it was just a comment.”

“Right. I don't know if you're very brave or very stupid to come here,” he said. His fingers continued to move nimbly over the strings, as if it cost him no more effort than breathing.

“Probably a little of both,” she replied. She had asked herself that same question dozens of times as she drove up to the mansion.

“I suppose you've come to get your things.” Sadie nodded. Tim finally put the guitar aside, took off his headphones and walked over to a closet, from which he pulled out her purse. “Is your name really Sadie Thompson?” he asked, turning around.

“No. I mean, my name is Sadie, but that's not my last name.”

“Do you still want to kill me?” He asked as he held out the purse.

“Yesterday I was catching up on your music,” she said, evasively, taking it and slung it over her shoulder. “Somehow, I'd hoped you'd stalled, but you haven't. Killing you would be like... like going to the Louvre and burning the Mona Lisa, but...”

“But...?” he encouraged her.

“By expressing my desire to destroy you, I have marked you as a target in the eyes of my family, and I don't know how much longer I can keep them distracted with other prey before they pressure me to try to kill you again.”

“I see.”

“No, you don't. You don’t get it,” she replied, angry with herself. “My life... you couldn't possibly understand.”

“Try me. I'm smarter than I look.”

Slowly and deliberately, Sadie lay down on the soft carpet. She began to speak only when she noticed Tim sitting on the floor as well, not too far away from her, but far enough not to be threatening.

“My siblings and I were brought into this world for two clear purposes: to hunt vampires, and to produce and train more hunters,” she told him. “So, half a year from now, if nothing happens to prevent it, like my death or his, I will be married to Arthur, my fiancé, and I will have to try to get pregnant as soon as possible.”

“You have a fiancé?” He repeated, “That’s nuts.”

“It's an arranged marriage with another hunting family,” she explained. “Men can delay their wedding date until they're thirty-five if they want to, because you're supposed to be fertile for longer.”

“Do you know him well, your future husband?”

“We've met a couple of times” she thought of Arthur: born and raised in the southern states, medium height, with some interesting ideas about weapons, and ten years older than she was. “He's not a bad hunter, but I don't have any feelings for him.”

“And is there anyone you do have feelings for?” Tim asked.

Sadie looked at him, thinking back to the night she had tried to kill him. The rule had always been that they had to get close to their target by any means at their disposal. In her case, trying to seduce the vampire in question to stake them wasn't an unusual method, but she usually felt nothing while doing it, if anything, disgust and the excitement inherent to the hunt.

With Tim that hadn’t been the case. The adrenaline was there, of course, but when she kissed him, the disgust didn't show up; instead, another emotion came, one she wouldn't have expected to experience with a vampire in a million years: desire, pure and genuine, albeit brief. She preferred not to think too much about it, as she was sure he could smell if any significant changes occurred in her body.

“None of what you're supposed to feel when you're in love” she said at last.

“You're lying,” he said. “Honestly, I don't care if you're lying to me, but you're lying to yourself, and that's very messed up.”

“Does your little friend know what you are?” she asked, diverting the conversation.

“Of course not, I erase her memory every time.”

“So she doesn't remember anything?” she wanted to know.

“Only the pleasant parts... Don't change the subject! We were talking about you, not me.”

“The truth is that I'm trapped in this life, whether I want to be or not,” she sighed, looking away again, “and I've put you in a no-win situation because I was a stupid teenager who couldn't get over her favorite musician turning into a vampire.”

“Is that why you wanted me to kill you, so you wouldn't have to marry that guy?”

“It wouldn't really solve anything, but at least you wouldn't have given me the chance to start questioning things,” she said, blinking very fast to try to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill over.

If I start crying in front of a vampire, I'll shoot myself, she thought.

“But that's good, isn't it?” he said, seemingly oblivious to her conflict.

“My world is falling apart, Tim,” she said, cursing herself as her voice broke at the end of that sentence. She dared to look at him again, “All because a vampire I couldn't kill, instead of doing the sensible thing and bleeding me dry on the spot, spared my life. Apparently, not all of you are evil killers.”

“You're twenty-five and you didn't know that?” he scoffed.

“I've hunted and helped hunt real monsters,” she said, frowning at the seriousness of the matter. “A vampire in Iowa fed exclusively on children under the age of nine. He kept them locked in his basement for weeks, until he finally bled them dry. We found the skeletons buried in the garden behind the house, at least half a dozen of them, and he had only been living there for two years.”

“One Ohio vampire lured runaway teenagers with the promise of hot food and a bed to sleep in, and then killed them when they were comfortable and safe. Another vampire, also in Ohio, targeted prostitutes and homeless people; those who no one was going to miss, and for whom the justice system wasn't going to give a shit about should anyone report them missing.”

“In New Orleans, there is a group of vampires so numerous and active that it takes three families of hunters to keep them in check. They are responsible for the deaths of hundreds of people a year, especially in the poorer neighborhoods. Most vampires I have encountered are not content to take just a little bit of blood and erase their victim's memory, they want it all and make sure they are savoring every last ounce of fear, pain and sorrow in the blood they take.”

“I see you do a lot of research before you kill them,” he commented.

“Planning is key in these cases, unless you want to go from being the hunter to the prey,” she said, sitting up. “Under normal circumstances, I would have died the first time we met, and now you wouldn't even remember me.”

Don't think it's so easy to forget you, little hunter, thought Tim.

“Tell me how I can help you,” he said instead.

“I don't think you can, but thanks for listening. Anyway, it's time for me to go,” she added, getting up; he got up too. “You know? You're very sweet... for a vampire.”

“Please don't go,” he begged, moving at vampiric speed to cut her off. “Not yet.”

“Do you want to be my knight with shining fangs?” She joked, “It's going to backfire.”

“I want to help you, that's all,” he replied with a shrug.

“There's no way out of this one, but I appreciate you wanting to try.”

“Will I see you again?”

“Do you want to see me again?” He nodded, “Is that what it takes to flirt with you?” she asked, amused, “Trying to kill you?”

“Ha, ha,” he replied, mockingly. “I'm just saying that maybe we could be friends, learn from each other, and then... I don't know, you could convince your family to give me a truce.”

“Oh, you want me to take my family off your back,” she said. “Fair enough, since it's my fault, but I don't know if I can convince them that you're a good vampire.”

“Can you at least try?”

“Sure,” she agreed, giving him a half-smile. “Give me your number, I'll call you.”

“Okay.”

He gave her his number and after seeing how she saved it in her phone (the real one, not the one she had carried in her purse that night), saving it on SF (there was probably a code in there, but he thought it was better not to ask), he stepped aside to let her pass.

“I'll walk you to the door,” he said.

“I know the way, thank you,” she replied.

“Please.”

Sadie rolled her eyes, but nodded. What Tim actually did was open the door for her and follow her to the entrance, careful not to walk too close in case he invaded her personal space. He leaned against the door frame.

“Well, see you another day, I guess.”

“See you later.”

He stood there, watching her leave, until the gate to the premises closed behind her.

“You like that girl, huh?” said Scott behind him.

“What?” He asked, turning around. “I was just making sure she didn't leave anything behind this time.”

“Right, and that's why you were looking at her ass?” Scott asked.

“I wasn't... I wasn't looking at her ass!” he exclaimed defensively.

“Liar. When are you going to fuck her?”

“I haven't slept with Sadie, and I don't plan to for the foreseeable future, okay?” he said, curtly.

“Okay, you don't have to be like that,” Scott replied, holding up his hands as a sign of non-aggression.

Tim closed the front door.

“I'm going to my room,” he announced.

Sometimes living in that house was a bit like the jungle.

“Don't forget we have rehearsal later!” Scott shouted at him as he was already on the stairs.

It was several days before Sadie called him. He was with his favorite blood bag, Anya, a Slavic-looking ballerina with hair dyed pink. She was riding him, still in her underwear, rubbing frantically against him, when his phone started ringing.

“Don't take it,” she begged.

However, seeing that he didn't have the number saved, he shoved her off his lap and picked up the phone, ignoring her protests. If the spam filter was working, that call could only be from one person.

“Hello?”

“Tim? This is Sadie. Did I catch you at a bad time?” she asked.

“No, I'm not doing anything I can't put off.”

“Who's calling you?” Anya wanted to know, getting up from the floor.

“Shut up or you'll have to wait outside,” Tim said in an angry whisper. “Sorry, Sadie, you were saying?”

“I thought we could meet, if you're not busy.”

“Who is this Sadie?” Anya asked. “Are you banging another chick?”

“Wait a minute,” he said, covering the phone. Trying to contain his frustration, he turned to Anya. “What did I just tell you? Wait outside.”

“But...”

“Either you go out on your own or I'll drag you out, take your pick.” Anya snorted, but did as he said. “Excuse me, I can talk now,” he said into the phone.

“If you're with someone, I can call you later,” Sadie said.

“No, don't worry, I'm available,” he assured her.

“Is it okay if we meet for lunch? I know you don't eat, but I think it's a good time?”

“Yes, yes, that's fine," he hastened to say. “Where?”

“I'll text you the address, okay? I have to hang up.”

“See you later.”

He hung up and went to open the door for Anya. The girl stomped in and pushed him out of the way.

“You bastard!” She spat, starting to get dressed “It's cold in the hallway!”

“I told you to shut up and you didn't, it's your fault, not mine,” he replied, shrugging.

He lay down on the bed, ankles crossed, hands clasped under his head.

“Are you fucking that Sadie girl?” Anya asked him, crossing her arms over her chest.

“No.”

“Liar!” she accused him.

“I'm not lying. I sleep with other women, that's true, but not with Sadie.”

“You're a bastard!” She repeated. “I thought we had something special.”

“You are not my girlfriend, I never promised you exclusivity,” he said. “Although I can make you my only blood bag, if you want to die very slowly,” he said, baring his fangs as he spoke.

Unlike the others, Anya did know what he was; they had met at a party hosted by a friend's sire, for vampires and humans in the know.

“Are you unable to separate sex from eating?”

“I can separate them, but it's more fun if I don't,” he said. “And the blood tastes better. I'm so sorry, Anya,” he said, sitting up, “We do have fun together, and you're my favorite, but that's it and that's all you're ever going to be.”

“I don't want to do this anymore, Tim, can you... can you erase it for me?”

“Sure.”

After dressing, he escorted her to the street, where he proceeded to erase all traces of himself and his siblings from her memory. He left her alone and watched through the lattice as she came out of her trance.

“What was I doing here?” She wondered aloud. “Shit, I got lost again. I'd better call a car...”

He didn't feel sorry for her; in a week or two she would have a new vampire to offer her veins to and he would have a new girl to feed on. Though perhaps she was right and he should start to settle for just feeding. Sighing, he walked back into the house.

“Did something happen with Anya?” asked Clay, who was reading a book in the living room.

“I had to erase her memory.”

“Oh, well, don't worry, it happens to all of us once in a while,” Clay replied with a dismissive gesture.

“I know. Listen, I have a lunch date, so maybe I'll be late for rehearsal,” he warned him.

“To have lunch with her or to have her as your lunch?” Clay wanted to know, closing the book and putting it aside.

“To have lunch with her.”

“Is Sadie really so important that you're going to be late?”

He didn't bother to deny it.

“Look, I don't know if I'm going to be late, I'm just saying that, if it goes on too long, it might happen,” he replied, somewhat defensively. “It's not like you guys can't manage without me either, is it?”

“What are you planning, huh? Don't deny it, I know you're up to something,” said Clay, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. “Come on, tell me, you know you can trust me.”

He bit his lip, thoughtfully. He didn't want to tell him, but, after all, if Sadie's family was after him, the others were also a potential target, and at the same time they could benefit from the truce, if he could get them to grant him one.

“If I tell you, you have to promise not to get angry, and not to tell the others, okay?” he said at last.

“I swear on my mother, who is also your mother,” Clay replied, feigning solemnity. Spill it.

“Sadie's a slayer,” he said, slumping down on the couch next to his friend.

“What?”

“Let me finish, please. That night she went to the club to kill me, but when she had me... she changed her mind,” he said. “She spared my life, so I did the same with her.”

“You should have eaten her,” Clay said.

“Yeah, but I didn't; I don't like killing, you know that.”

“Neither do I, but sometimes you have to make exceptions,” Clay said.

“I disagree,” he countered. “Anyway, when she came here the other day, she told me that maybe she could get her family to leave us alone for good, so I'm going to meet with her and figure out a strategy to make that happen,” he explained. “You're angry, aren't you? You promised me you wouldn't,” he reminded Clay.

“This is serious, Tim! The hunters may seem like mere humans to you, but if enough of them go after you at once...”

“I know, and that's why we're going to figure out a way to not get killed.”

“Why would someone like her even want to save you?” Clay wondered.

“She says she appreciates my talent. Our talent,” he corrected himself. “That's why she didn't kill me when she had the chance.”

“Yeah... You know, I think you should fuck her. Today, after lunch.”

Tim almost choked on his own saliva, something that hadn't happened to him since he'd become a vampire.

“What?”

“Well, humans love sex with us, don't they? It would give her one more reason not to want to kill you,” Clay argued.

“She's not like the rest of them, I'm sure she finds me repulsive. Please don't tell the others,” he begged, “at least until I have something positive to tell them.”

“All right,” Clay agreed. “But if you don't get them to give us a truce, we'll have to move,” he warned. “And if they follow us, there'll be bloodshed, and you wouldn't like that.”

“I'm sorry.”

“It's not your fault, kiddo,” Clay assured him, sighing. “This is the jungle, and every once in a while, a hunter becomes prey.”

Sadie waited nervously at the restaurant where she was meeting Tim. Fast food wasn't her favorite, but the place was noisy and crowded enough that no one paid any special attention to them, and it was far enough away from her house that she wouldn't run into his family by accident. It wasn't the location that made her uneasy, but the fact that he was late.

He finally walked in the door, dressed in a black hoodie, which covered most of his tattoos, and jeans. For once, he had left his hair somewhat more natural, instead of styling it in his usual way, which made him look like an anime character. He greeted her as if they were old friends and approached her table.

“Sorry, I couldn't find parking and had to wait for a man to come out with his pickup truck” he said as he sat down.

“That's all right.”

“Well?” he urged her.

“I've been dropping hints: ‘what if a vampire didn't kill and if in that case we wouldn't be committing murder...’, that sort of thing,” she said between bites.

“And how did it go?”

“My little sister is convinced that such a vampire cannot exist, but she is open to offering amnesty to any vampire who refrains from harming humans,” she informed him.

“That's a start.

“Yeah. Mom, Jack and Luke, on the other hand, were not so open. They said that you are monsters who only parasite humanity and that our duty is to exterminate you all,” she said, chagrined. “Jack added that even if vampires didn't kill their victims, you always felt the urge to do so, and sooner or later, you would succumb to it. My dad and Tony said nothing, although dad was all the time looking at me like I was crazy.”

“Well, I didn't expect it to go right the first time," he replied, with a forced smile.

“I'm sorry, it's going to take longer than I thought,” she admitted.

“But are we safe?”

“There are more urgent targets in this city, and you're too well known for us to just kill you anyway. A hit like that, all four of you at once... we'd need reinforcements and plan very, very well.”

“That's very reassuring,” he replied, sarcastically, with a hint of hysteria in his voice.

Sadie frowned and looked away, annoyed. She had other, more pressing problems right now, at least on a personal level.

“What's the matter?”

“Huh?”

“Something's wrong with you and it's not this,” said Tim. “Come on, tell me about it.”

“Do you remember my fiancé, Arthur?” she asked. He nodded, “He's coming here next Monday, to start preparing for the wedding. His parents are staying in a hotel for a few days and in less than two weeks there's going to be a party, sort of a pre-wedding, if you will.”

“Pre-wedding?”

“It's a tradition. It strengthens the engagement, so if I get pregnant and he dies before we get married, his family still recognizes me as part of them, and the baby,” she explained.

“But you're not pregnant, are you?”

“I'm not, and I don't want to be, really. I don't want to be a mother.”

She had never said those words out loud, at least not where anyone could hear them, but it felt surprisingly good to have someone hear them for a change.

“Well, don't be.

“It's not that easy, Tim. And with my record...”

“What does that mean ‘with my record’? I thought you were a good hunter.”

“I am,” she said, showing him her own tattoo: eight black lines on the inside of your forearm, grouped five by five, and four red lines, “one of the best, but they're very conservative. Hunters, I mean. Certain things are tolerated only as long as they don't interfere with the mission.”

“Like what things?” he asked.

“I... God, this is so embarrassing... I don't... I have never...”

“You've never what? “he encouraged her. Sadie bit her lip, undecided whether to tell him or not. “Come on, spill it already, it can't be that terrible.”

“I've never been with a guy, okay?” she sputtered.

“Are you a virgin?”

“It depends on what you mean by that” she replied, uncomfortable. “We were always moving from here to there and it's easier for me to connect intimately with other women.”

“You're a lesbian and they're going to force you to marry a guy?” he was alarmed.

“I'm not a lesbian, although it would be an even bigger problem if I were,” she agreed. “It's not that, I just don't want my first time with a man to be with Arthur, I'm not attracted to him at all.”

“And is there anyone you are attracted to? Maybe I could...”

“You?” She interrupted him, “My own mother would kill me if I slept with you.”

“I was going to say that maybe I could introduce you to someone,” he said. “I have human friends, okay?”

“Oh. I'm sorry,” she apologized, blushing. “I appreciate the offer, but I just don't work that way. I can't just sleep with someone, there has to be a certain... connection first, I don't know if I'm explaining myself.”

“You explain yourself well.”

“Most of the men I've met so far are very shallow, they don't want to get to know me, they want access to my body and discard me as soon as they get what they want,” she said, “and I don't want that. I am physically incapable of feeling sexual attraction for someone I don't know.”

“But you desired me. I mean, not to brag or anything, but I could tell.”

There was no point in denying it, not when he knew, and she didn't want to lie to herself either. It had surprised even her to realize that she had indeed, for the briefest of moments, lusted after Tim.

“Parasocial relationships are tricky terrain,” she admitted, grimacing. “I was your fan: I watched your videos, listened to your music... I felt like I knew you,” she explained, “that your songs spoke to me about your innermost thoughts, even if it wasn't in words. Seeing you in person was like medicine, in that sense. It totally cured me of your attraction.”

“Because I'm a vampire?”

“Because I realized that I don't really know you at all,” she corrected him. “I want to know you, Tim, I really do, and I'd love to be friends, despite our differences, but right now you're still a stranger.”

“I want to be friends, too,” he said hopefully. “Maybe with Arthur something similar will happen to you. I mean, eventually…?”

“No. I've known him longer than you, and I know I'll never find him attractive.”

“Why not?”

“Arthur is not a bad hunter, but his ideas about the world and our role in it are even more rigid than my family's,” she said. “If I marry him, according to tradition, I will have to go live with his family in the South, and I will be forced to stay at home, give birth and train new hunters until I am no longer fertile. Then I will be considered too old to be in the field, so I will be relegated to teaching and making weapons. Imagine if everything you've worked for all your life was suddenly taken away from you, how would you feel?”

“Very bad, obviously.”

“I don't do this to kill vampires, Tim, I do it to save people,” she said. “If I stop being a working hunter, I want it to be my choice.”

“I understand that. And I still want to help you with all that, I really do.”

“You're very sweet,” she said, flashing a sad smile.

“You already told me.”

“Does it bother you that I do it?” she wanted to know. “Do you have a reputation to maintain?”

“No, and no, not at all,” he acknowledged. “Except perhaps for having easy fangs.”

“Is that what they call it?” she asked, amused.

“I like to eat, and I like to fuck while I eat, and unlike you, I'm into casual sex. I'm not going to apologize for being the way I am.”

“I'm not judging you,” Sadie assured him in a soft voice. “Not because of that, at least.”

“I know you're not going to believe me, but there are plenty of humans out there who willingly feed us,” he told her. “Some have even made it their profession.

“Blood whores, yes. I know, although I have never met any.”

“Is that what you call them? That’s tough.”

“What do you call them?” she was interested.

“Fleurs-de-lis.”

“A very nice euphemism.”

“It's safer than being a prostitute,” he insisted. “They don't have to have sex if they don't want to, we pay them well, and no one is forced to do it. They have health insurance, days off, and even a union.”

“Not all vampires are like you, Tim,” she pointed out, frowning.

“They have no choice but to be if they want to use their services,” he explained to her. “Fleurs-de-lis run their own business, with their own rules, and if a vampire breaks one of them, they will be banned for life.” Sadie raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “You don't have to believe me if you don't want, but maybe you should talk to a few of them first before judging.”

“Okay,” she agreed.

“Yeah?”

“Yes, introduce me to some of those fleurs-de-lis,” she said, as if savoring the word.

“This weekend there will be a party at one of their locations. I can bring a plus-one, so you could come with me, if you want,” he informed her, checking his calendar app. “Do you think you can sneak out?”

“Won't it bother you that I'm human and I’m not... well, one of them?”

“No, don’t worry. I'll send you the details later, when I know the exact place and time.”

“Very well then, it’s a date. Now I have to go,” she said, getting up and picking up her tray. “And, Tim?”

“Yeah?”

“I prefer sweet fangs to easy fangs. It suits you more.”

If his heart was still beating, it would have done a pirouette.

#polyphia #polyphia fanfiction #tim henson #tim henson fanfiction #tim henson fic #polyphia fic #tim henson x ofc #vampire!tim henson x vampire hunter!ofc #vampire au #vampire!tim henson x ofc #playing god the fanfic #poppy writes

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tlatia-the-radiant · 3 months

Note

In the engine room, he would one day be found.

His body, twitching. Convulsing with every surge of volts that trailed through one part of him and out the other. He was a cog in a machine, a mere conduit for energy. Stumps of what had been arms and legs were connected to wires and cords and tubes, all sorts of bits and baubles keeping him stabilized. The techpriest, a Magos Biologis, nervously tended to him and attempted to wipe the sweat from the Primarch's neck.

As if in an endless daze, the Second Son whispered things in High Gothic-- prayers to his own father, pleas to his long-dead mother, eulogies to his lost children.

Nirisch wringed his metal hands nervously as he glanced to the many cameras on all sorts of cogitators before him. Originally, they would have been used to check power supply adn anything wrong with the engines, but Nirisch had to awkwardly rig them into connecting to the security systems in order to keep watch on the visitors. He couldn't believe that they would be able to actually meet those from the other excommunicated legion! Nirisch cleared his throat as he spoke up,

" F-Forgive me, um, My Lady-- he is attempting to recuperate after the vox-transmission... I-I am one of the techpriests that would assist one of his sons of the First Company with his Penance Armor. I-I am Techpriest Nirisch! Or... well, I would be Magos now, having ten thousand years of studying the human body! Ha-ha!... haaa... "

The techpriest's voice could be heard over the vox comms, echoing through the large docking area that they entered within, bearing witness to ancient history. Giant marble columns that went up to the tall ceiling, statues of the 2nd Primarch and the Emperor, holding their weapons with pride. Tiles along the floor were made of similar material, with gold running along the cracks like streams of fate. Old, empty supply boxes were scattered about, as were old papers. Old signs of flora seemed to be seen along the walls, as well-- most likely from old gardens scattered throughout the large Phalanx-class ship. Once a bustling place of life meant to be a paradise for those oppressed by the Imperium and a place for diplomacy... now abandoned.

" You-- you should be able to easily go through the old Registry gates past the Administratum booths to reach the main gates and enter the great hall! I will do my best to guide you!... um. The lights will flicker. I cannot reach you. I will need to tend to Lord Aurelius. "

// @forgottnseccnd

Twenty minutes earlier...

"Confirming realspace translation... cross-referencing star charts with expected locations... 99.9% likelihood of successful arrival at Polaris."

"Raise the blinders," Tlatia, Eleventh Daughter of the Emperor, ordered with her arms folded and her weight resting mostly on her left foot. The metal shutters groaned slightly as they were raised to reveal the stars beyond.

Polaris had, once upon a time, been a trinary star system. That had not lasted. One star had disappeared long before Humanity ever reached the North Star; the second one had been kidnapped by the Drukhari some time in late M29. Now, only one star remained. It burnt a brilliant, cerulean blue.

Not even a hundred kilometres above Polaris sat a city-sized fortress. Perhaps it wasn't quite as big as the Phalanx, perhaps it was—either way, the difference was measured in metres instead of kilometres—but you could never mistake the two. The Phalanx was bright yellow, tall and proud; Ursa Major, flagship of the Second Legion, was silver and sapphire with an air of mystery.

"That's his ship," Tlatia murmured. "No mistaking it. Prepare my Stormbird."

"One step ahead of you, ma'am," First Captain Laura reported. "The Angel of Mercy is fueled, armed, and prepared to depart. I've ordered four of the Tecuani to prepare for combat, too."

"Thank you, Laura." Tlatia nodded to her officers. "Vox-officer Kell, ensure that we have constant communication within my brother's fortress. Fleetmaster Celaya, you have the conn and the fleet. Auspex, attempt to map the interior of the Star Fortress. I want heat maps, signs of live, psychic energy, topography, everything."

With her orders issued, she turned on her heel and left. She reached the hangar not even ten minutes later.

"Status?" she demanded, stepping into the cargo hold of her personal Stormbird. The pilot gave a thumbs-up.

"Green lights across the board, fuel and ammo full. Ready to rock and roll, ma'am."

"Excellent," Tlatia replied, as the chosen members of her honor guard took their seats in the Angel of Mercy's hold.

"Are you ready, ma'am?" Laura asked from beneath her jaguar helmet. Tlatia nodded.

"Let's get going."

(continued under the cut)

Tlatia drummed her fingers on her thigh-plates as the Angel of Mercy hummed through space. Her personal guard checked their weapons for the sixth time.

There was a chorus of clacks as bolts slammed back shut. The Tecuani returned to silence. An anxious, tense silence.

Tlatia shifted and folded her arms. The ceramite of her gauntlets clicked like bricks of rockcrete being tapped on one another as she clenched and unclenched her hands.

"Worried, my Lady?" Laura asked, tilting her helmet just slightly. Tlatia paused, then nodded.

"I haven't spoken to Aurelius in... stars... eleven thousand years? Maybe more?" She shifted again. "Then, one day while on deployment, I receive a vox-transmission from him on one of our encrypted channels. I reply and he's using his old callsign. It's his voice, it's his choice of words—everything fits."

"But you're worried," Nau asked.

"Yes," Tlatia replied. "Why reach out now? Why wait all this time? He was reported as dead centuries ago—why didn't he contradict that?"

"He could ask the same of us," Cotaya pointed out, ever-astute. "We were in the solar wind for longer than him."

"But we didn't reach out to the dead," Tlatia countered. "The dead reached out to us. It's impossible."

"Nothing's ever impossible," Xenhuan replied. "Improbable? Usually. Never impossible. You taught me that yourself, mother."

"I know it's not technically impossible, but at the very least it's more likely by orders of magnitude that this is a trap."

"We're entering a fortress most if not all of the Imperium and Chaos has no recollection of in order to speak with a man that by all means should not be alive." Laura shook her head. "This is far too strange to be a trap."

"Thirty seconds," the pilot reported. "Atmospheric conditions onboard are stable at 73% of Terra's atmospheric pressure."

"Red light!" Laura shouted. The Dawn Legionaries on-board stood and flicked the fire selector switches on their boltors from Safe to Fully Automatic.

The Angel of Mercy shuddered almost imperceptibly as it slipped through the atmospheric shield keeping the hangar from depressurizing and whined as it set down on the floor. The pilot kept the engines running.

The ramp dropped and the Dawn Legionaries peered out into total darkness.

"Sacred stars..." Xenhuan murmured.

"Let's move," Tlatia ordered, raising her pistol. "Lights on."

The five Tecuani turned on their underbarrel flashlights, cutting rays of white through the black. Tlatia let her self-control slip just a little bit and began to glow a few lumens brighter. She didn't dare risk more—not with a wounded super-Psyker somewhere onboard.

The lights flickered on, just strong enough that you could see the tops of looming statues and just dim enough that the Dawn Legion kept their flashlights on.

"F-Forgive me, um, my Lady..."

By all rights, the voice should have been deafeningly loud, booming through the hangar. Instead it was barely louder than a conversational tone.

"I-I am one of the Techpriests that would assist one of his sons of the First Company with the Penance Armor. I-I am Techpriest Nirisch! Or, well, I would be Magos now, after having ten thousand years to study the human body..."

"Door, fifty metres, two o'clock," Cotaya reported. The team reoriented; their steps gained a sense of urgency alongside the sense of direction.

"You—you should be able to easily go through the old Registry gates past the Administratum booths to reach the main gates and easily enter the Great Hall!" Nirisch continued, as the six-soldier team passed through the gate that Cotaya had sighted. The writing on top was too decayed to read, but beyond a series of turnstiles and booths pointed to evidence of a sort of Customs checkpoint typical of the Administratum. The team simply vaulted over the closed checkpoints.

"I will do my best to guide you!... um. The lights will flicker. I cannot reach you. I will need to tend to Lord Aurelius."

"This Nirisch sounds like a nervous wreck," Xenhuan observed.

"They've been tending to a dying Primarch for ten thousand years," Tlatia replied. "I would be, too. Main gate ahead."

The main gate was a towering affair; taller than any door aboard the Dawnbringer. Embossed, heavily-stylized stars formed constellations reaching from the bottom to the top of the door, with flowing silvered edges depicting the Second Legion, less commonly known as the Stars Repentant, in various states; supplication, combat, even death. In the centre of the door Aurelius himself stood, hands open and over his chest, palms facing towards him like a martyred saint. His face was hidden by a mask.

"That's a big guy," Xenhuan observed. Laura nodded.

"That's Aurelius, the Second Primarch," she replied. Aside from Tlatia, she was the only one on the team to have met the diviner before.

"Get the door open," Tlatia ordered. The fifth member of the team, Citlalicue, moved to comply. Laura moved in behind her to cover while the rest of the team kept their guns covering behind.

The door groaned as Citlalicue shoved it open. Dust rained down.

"Nobody's used this door for a long, long time," Laura observed. Citlalicue made a small hum of agreement.

"Yeah... and I think..."

She shoved the door the rest of the way open.

"...there's a reason for that."

The team turned to look upon the Great Hall—and found a long-quiet battlefield.

"By the sun..."

Bodies were scattered all across the hall, hidden behind makeshift fighting positions or caught in the open, all bearing the iconography of the Stars Repentant. Empty bolt-casings were scattered across the ground, covered in a thick layer of dust. Empty magazines sat beside sandbags; boltors missing their magazines lay by their warriors, sometimes discarded, sometimes still being clutched, even in death.

"Hel on Terra," Cotaya murmured, flashlight sweeping over a body slumped behind an emplaced heavy boltor that was only twenty rounds away from running out of ammunition. Three box magazines beside the gun were completely empty. The gunner's armor was rough, uneven; chunks had been taken out of the shoulderplate, and the helmet was cracked.

"What happened?" Laura wondered aloud. Her flashlight came to rest on a body lying facedown, a chainsword still grasped in its right hand. The left arm was severed just below the elbow with the left forearm nowhere to be seen.

"Looks like they were attacked," Xenhuan murmured, kneeling to run a hand over a body that was missing anything below the waistline. Not a single shred of flesh remained below the armor; it was just dried bone. "And, they lost. Really, really badly."

"Or whoever attacked shuttled their dead," Cotaya countered, sweeping their flashlight over the cracked walls. Little chunks had been removed at irregular intervals; she guessed they were missed shots.

The team continued to advance. Their footfalls echoed throughout the hall off of empty walls.

"Torn carpet," Cotaya noted. "Looks... burnt, almost."

"Whoever stormed this place really had it in for these guys," Laura observed, stepping over a body with a sword still driven through the abdomen. "Were the Wolves ever this brutal?"

"Not that I know of," Tlatia murmured. "And never since."

#chronicles of the lost legion #tlatia answers #ooc: this is the longest story I've written for this blog so far #warhammer 40k #wh40k #40k

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gachagon · 1 year

Text

Case Study 1 | STATUS: CLASSIFIED | ACCESS: GRANTED

SYSTEM CHECK | BLUE LOCK X PYSCHO PASS | BACHISAGI

Words: 3.0K

Pairing: Bachira Meguru/Isagi Yoichi, Bachisagi Genre: Romance, Sci-fi, Crossover, Crime Solving, Murder Mystery

STATUS: Ongoing

The Sibyl System is a perfectly curated AI that judges human's mental capacity to commit crime before they have done any real harm to society. A person's Pyscho Pass is the measure of their propensity to commit crime and such people who are deemed with too high a Pyscho Pass are labeled Latent Criminals. Ego Jinpachi is the Director of the Public Safety Bureau and has issued a new system under the Sibyl System to help at risk youth who have anomalous Pyscho Passes known as Project: Blue Lock. Bachira Meguru and Isagi Yoichi are two of the newest members of this system, and are registered Strikers who work for the PSB, helping their local community with small tasks. One day, however, they come across the one thing they never thought they'd see during their time with Blue Lock: A Dead body. Now they're tasked with investigating and solving the murder of a person they've never met, but can they keep their hue's from shifting too far in the wrong direction while they're doing it?

tags: @echarie @https-true-egoist @swoland @blonde-batgirl @awkward-fandom-fan @lizzieonka @antiv3nom @go-rocksquadsfan @reomikagekin @oo-mi-ru-oo

“Isagi Yoichi?” His name was called from the front desk and he looked up almost immediately towards the kind looking receptionist. “Inspector Anri will see you now.” The receptionist gave him a warm smile as he nodded and made his way down the hall of the Public Safety Bureau. Isagi had never been in the PSB building before, which he had considered to be a good thing since the only people who really came here were Latent Criminals or victims. The office was sleek and clean with plain white walls, and fluorescent lights up above. The logo of the PSB was plastered in some places, usually accompanied by a telepad that displayed information about the Sibyl System and the PSB.

As his feet trudged slowly across the shiny tiles, he could feel unseen eyes on him when he neared a door at the end of the long hall. Security cameras that doubled as hue checkers followed his every move closely. Before him was a door with the name “Anri Teieri” displayed neatly on a holo-plaque. Isagi raised his hand to knock on the door, and her name fizzled in and out with the vibrations.

“Come in!” A voice called out, and the door slid open. Anri Teieri, or just “Inspector Anri”, sat at a large but crowded desk full of screens and messy wires. The office was cramped a bit, full of files that were overflowing with papers and manila folders that were unmarked. In front of the desk was one solitary wooden chair that looked as if it hadn’t seen daylight in years. When Isagi sat on it, the chair creaked and he feared it’d fall out right from under him if he squirmed in it too much.

“Sorry we don’t have more uh…welcoming accommodations. I’m Inspector Anri Teieri, and you must be Isagi Yoichi, correct?” She asked him with an outstretched hand. Isagi took it and shook her hand gingerly.

“Yeah, that’s me. It’s fine, I’ve never really been inside of one of these places before. You know, a PSB building.” He said with a slight chuckle. “I’ve seen them on TV a lot before, though.”

Anri laughed along with him, “Well this is no tv set, that’s for certain. And I hope you won’t treat it as such. We here at the PSB take our job very seriously, and I intend to do my best with you as well.” She explained before turning one of her screens to Isagi. On it was a file that was obviously for him, with his picture on display and general information about him listed. However, what peaked his interest the most was the big blue hexagonal logo that had the words “Blue Lock” written on it. “We’ve already got most of your information ready for the Blue Lock project, though I do still need one more thing from you which is your own personal report.”

Isagi cocked his head to the side, “Personal report…?”

Anri nodded, “I need you to tell me the last time you noticed your crime coefficient was stagnant…what were you doing then, who were you around, that kind of stuff. It’s just for file management so don’t worry, you’re not in trouble or anything.” Anri said. “And it’ll help us uh…pair you up with someone else in the future if I can reference your story with someone else's. People of similar hues tend to influence one another, after all.”

Isagi got the gist of it. “I see, well I guess the last time I noticed my hue hadn’t changed in a while was maybe…last week? When I was playing soccer with my highschool team.” Isagi reminisced about that day as he told everything to Anri.

It had been a normal, and sunny afternoon on the field. His team had just lost a match, though that wasn’t unusual for them. They were ranked as one of the lowest rated teams in their entire district by the Sibyl System, and were only really allowed to play in small scrimmage matches until they climbed the ranks some more. “Nationals” wasn’t a thing that really existed, since the country was closed off from outside nations. Instead they would compete in a district wide competition, though the Sibyl System decided who got into what ranks and who didn’t. Only those with very clear hue’s got in. And out of everyone on the team, Isagi was the one with the cloudiest hue.

That day, after the match, he decided to sit on the bench and try to cool off since it was a rather hot day. His friends waved goodbye to him as they headed for the locker room, but Isagi stayed behind. In his pocket, he had pulled out a hue self-checker, something that the nurses at the care facility had given to him the last time he went for a check up.

He’d never been flagged, but his parents were still worried about his crime coefficient and his hue. It was a small device, built like one of those in home sick thermometers you held to your head. With a languid sigh, he turned it on and held it against his temple, before hearing the soft beep.

When he looked at the screen on the small device, he felt a slight tinge of dread crawl up from the pit of his stomach. 88.5, blue green. That wasn’t good, anyone else with that kind of CC and hue would be checked into a care facility immediately and given therapy. A person's Psycho Pass, the measure of a person's stability in society and their propensity for good, was a delicate thing to balance. If any of his teammates knew he had such a high Psycho Pass they’d probably have him kicked off the team.

Tucking the device away quickly, lest anyone else see, he had decided to just head home instead of hanging around with the others. He didn’t want to cloud their hues since his was already bad enough to be flagged by a scanner.

“And it had been at 88.5 for…well for months now. When I was a kid, obviously it would change but it’s like ever since my birthday…My crime coefficient hasn’t budged at all.” Isagi finished his story with a weary look. “It hasn’t gone up, thankfully…but it also won’t go down. No matter how much therapy or pills I take, nothing seems to work.”

Anri typed all of this on her laptop as he spoke, her fingers moving fast across the keyboard. “Well you’re not lying, thankfully. I can see all of your past checks from years ago, and you did have a normal Psycho Pass for a child of your age back then. Though I do see a gradual increase as time goes on, maybe it was the stress from school that did it? When you were a first year, your Psycho Pass was moderate, but in the second year that is when you breached the .60 range. And now that you’re a third year…” She shook her head. “It skyrocketed all the way to 88? That kind of CC only happens to people with intense anxiety, you know.”

Isagi did know, and he had explained his circumstances to every specialist who would listen. “I don’t have any reason to stress. I’ve never…I didn’t feel overwhelmed or anything during school. My grades are good, I have nice parents, I have friends-”

“What about that soccer team of yours?” Anri asked, as she eyed her screen again. “Says here your team is the lowest ranked in your district. Could that perhaps have clouded your Psycho Pass?”

Isagi furrowed his brow, “What? No, of course not. Everyone on the team…plays for fun. It doesn’t matter what our rank is, just that we…get to play together.” He sounded more like he was trying to convince himself rather than Inspector Anri, who raised an eyebrow at him.

“Really?” Anri rested her head on the backs of her clasped hands as she looked at Isagi. “All those losses didn’t get to you, not even once?” Isagi avoided her gaze but Anri continued on. “You know, I used to play Soccer too when I was younger. I was pretty good at it, though when I tried to get my friends to play along with me…it was as if I was the only one really giving it my all. They all wanted to play for fun, and I did too…but I cared too much at the same time, and it really annoyed me so I stopped playing the game. I’ve seen your scores here, you’ve got the most goals out of everyone on that team of yours, which isn’t saying a lot but…I think maybe you also ‘care too much’ about soccer.”

“I…” Isagi opened his mouth to rebuke that statement, but nothing came to mind then. Truthfully he had grown increasingly frustrated with his teammates and the way none of them seemed to carry their own weight when they played. There were times where he’d passed to one of them and they had let him down, including in the last game they played together. But every time he felt annoyed with them, he had stamped down that frustration and told himself he wasn’t being a “good sport”. That he was just being a sore loser and was throwing a tantrum because they lost a game.

Anri studied him silently for a moment, before returning her eyes to the screen. “This is just a minor setback in your life. We here at the PSB invited you today so you could be a part of a special program to help kids struggling with their hues just like yourself.” Anri slid him an I.D card that had some information on it about him. It held his name, a picture of himself, and the words “Project Blue Lock” typed on the top.

“It says here I’m a registered…’Striker’? What does that mean?” He knew the term from soccer which had to be a strange coincidence considering their conversation just then.

“The Blue Lock project, as you know, is a new youth program created by the Sibyl System to help at-risk youth with their CC’s, to stop you from becoming Latent Criminals before your hue deteriorates. We call the kids like yourself who are a part of such a program ‘Strikers’. Pretty cool name, huh?” She winked with a smile. “You’re not formerly an employee of the PSB but you’re not quite just a visitor either. So this is how Sibyl has decided to register you.”

Isagi pocketed the I.D quickly, making sure it was in a safe place. “Oh wow, that’s pretty cool…A Striker, huh? I was told I would just be doing some volunteer work though, Striker sounds kind of…uh…” Violent. He hoped they wouldn’t be putting him to any real PSB work, like investigations.

Anri laughed, and waved a hand dismissively. “Oh don’t worry, the name’s just a name. It means nothing. You will be doing volunteer work around your district. And you’ll be partnered up with another Striker so the work is not quite as hard. I’ll be overlooking you for the time being since leaving you unattended would be unwise.” She sighed with an eyeroll. “And kids are known to slack off when there are no adults nearby. But you seem like a good kid, Isagi! So I trust you to get your tasks done, even when my eyes aren’t always on you, okay?”

Isagi chuckled, “Yes, ma’am.” He hoped this project would help, though with the way his CC had stagnated he didn’t have much hope to give.

…………………………………………………………………………………………..

“Bachira Meguru…Bachira Meguru…? Is there a Bachira Meguru here?” A voice from the front desk called out to him, though Bachira did not care. He was far too engrossed in reading whatever files he had managed to dig up on his personal holopad, his eyes greedily read over every word like a new novel he had picked up from a bookstore. Though this was no novel, rather the records of someone who he had never met. Marisa Hanamura…married….36…former bartender at one of those fancy nightclubs downtown, oh how interesting… His thoughts rattled an internal commentary as he read the files.

It wasn’t until he felt a slight tap on his shoulder that he finally looked up to a very annoyed looking receptionist. “Excuse me?” Said the woman, a hand on her hip. “You’re Bachira Meguru, correct? Inspector Anri will see you now.”

“Ah. Thanks!” Bachira quickly grabbed his backpack, and stuffed his holopad in it. Along with the other various knick-knacks he had pulled out while he was waiting. Snacks, candy, a game player that was paused immediately as soon as the file on Marisa Hanamura (former bartender and hostess for a fancy nightclub) had finished downloading. The receptionist scrunched her nose up at his messy display, before waltzing back to her desk.

Bachira sped down the hall, not minding the weary plea from the reception desk about not running in the halls. He paid her no mind and continued onward. His journey was cut short as he bumped harshly into someone’s chest.

“S-sorry!” The boy he had bumped into apologized to him with an awkward smile, though Bachira wasn’t sure of why he was the one saying sorry. He had dark hair, and very startling blue eyes that Bachira latched onto immediately. Before he could even reply, the boy was gone, and Bachira was standing in front of Anri Teieri’s door. He looked back to see where the boy had walked off too, but just as he craned his head the door slid open and he was greeted by a messy office, and a stern looking Inspector.

Anri Teieri stared him down with crossed arms. “Bachira Meguru? You were supposed to be here at the PSB office an hour ago…” She said in a tight voice.

Bachira chuckled sheepishly, as he scratched his head. He walked into the small office space, and sat down on the creaky wooden chair, and winced when he thought it would give out from his weight. “Sorry! I got a little side tracked is all. But I’m here now, so when do I start, chief?” He smiled, but it didn’t do much to lessen Inspector Anri’s annoyed look.

“Geez…Anyways, since you’re so late we got most of your file ready. However I need-”

“You need my personal report, right? I already have it right here.” Bachira dug around in his backpack for a bit, before slapping down a thick pile of documents onto Anri’s desk. She tentatively took it and leafed through the pages, her face contorted in confusion.

“How did you…?” She asked as she scanned the pages. It wasn’t just one personal report, but multiple personal reports. From weeks and weeks ago, all detailing times Bachira had checked his hue.

“Oh it was easy, I knew everything this meeting would entail weeks before I was asked to come here.” He explained. “It was all in your file!”

“My file?” Anri threw the papers on the desk. “Looking through classified PSB documents is against regulation! You could seriously be charged for that!”

Bachira scoffed, which seemed to make Anri even more upset. “I didn’t dig through anything the PSB held…it was just all on the net. You talk a lot about your job, especially on your blog. What was the handle again….?” Bachira put a hand to his chin in thought, but Anri looked as if she wanted to crawl into a hole just then.

“Okay, okay enough! I…how did you even find something like that?” She asked him in an embarrassed tone. “I didn’t think anyone even knew about that dumb blog…” Bachira thought it was a miracle he even found it himself considering she only had 1 follower. And it was her mom.

“I came prepared though, so…I feel like that should make up for being so late today! Please forgive me, chief!” He put his hands together and bowed his head, and Anri rolled her eyes.

“I’m not the chief- oh nevermind. I suppose I can let this pass, just try not to make being late such a habit.” She said as she rubbed the bridge of her nose. “And stop snooping around people’s private blogs! It’s rude to spy on others, you know.” She scolded with a glare. “I’ll read over your uh…personal reports and type the latest one in. I told the last kid who came in here this, but starting next week you’ll be showing up here again for your assignments from the Blue Lock project. Here’s your I.D card.” She slid it over to him.

Bachira studied the I.D card and then clipped it to the side of his backpack in one swift motion. “I need that to enter the PSB building, right?” He asked, to which nodded. She opened her mouth again to explain some other things, but Bachira was standing up already. “Don’t worry, I already know all about the Striker thing and whatnot because of…well you know, the blog. You should probably delete it later today!” He said, as his hand reached for the doorknob. “See you next week!”

“Ah-wait!” But before Anri could call him back Bachira was gone down the hall again. Anri sighed and placed her head in her hands. She guessed that hoping all of the kids were like Isagi Yoichi was too much to ask. They can’t all be polite little angel’s I guess…Anri decided to check one last thing before clocking out for the night. As her hands flitted across the keyboard once more, she quickly brought up Bachira Meguru’s Psycho Pass scans. Whenever anyone walked through the hall, they were quickly scanned multiple times. Her eyes widened as she took in the numbers on the screen.

99.7

123.0

40.5

345

Bachira’s Crime Coefficient was random and erratic, it shifted multiple times seemingly for no real reason. Her eyes lingered on the 345, and she shuddered. If she had her dominator out she could’ve…She closed the entire PC down and decided to leave that worry for another day. Preferably next week when she would see Bachira Meguru again. Anri grimaced again as she also reminded herself to delete that blog…or at least private it so no one else could see her embarrassing rants. She supposed Bachira Meguru was just as wild and unpredictable as his Psycho Pass.

#blue lock #bllk #bachisagi #isagi yoichi #bachira meguru #blue lock fic #psycho pass fic #you dont have to watch psycho pass to understand this fic <3 #part 1

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omarmvp · 4 months

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Sumsung Ultra

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anotherwvba · 8 months

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Challenge Accepted pt. 10

The Omni Arena was dark and quiet, save for the dim security lighting that cast eerie shadows across the canvas. Skye sat alone in the center of the ring, her legs crossed and her eyes closed. It’s almost here. My first fight. Am I ready for this? Can I really go toe-to-toe with someone like Reina Adora? Her heart pounded in her chest, a tempest of conflicting emotions swirled in her mind.

Shaking her head as if to dispel the doubts, Skye rose to her feet and took a deep breath. She began to move around the ring, her steps slow and deliberate, her arms flowing gracefully.. She tried to envision the ring as a stage, a place where she had always felt at home. Just another dance, another performance, another stage, she repeated in her mind like a mantra. Except the stakes are real. The punches are real. The pain is real.

Just then, the door to the arena burst open, followed by a metallic crash. Light poured through the doorway as Skye's heart leapt into her throat. Security? Damn, I’m busted.

The figure stepped into the dim light, revealing Niki, who was picking up a ladder she had just dropped. "Hey, Skye. Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. What are you doing here so late?"

Skye let out a sigh of relief. "Just trying to shake some pre-show jitters, you know? What about you? What's with the ladder?"

Niki propped the ladder against the wall. "I need to check the wiring on the projector. Gotta make sure we have the right cables and connections for the anime party on Sunday."

"Oh, right, the anime party. I'll be there," Skye said, her voice subdued.

Niki climbed into the ring, her eyes narrowing with concern. "You alright? You've seemed so pumped in the gym, so full of energy."

Skye leaned on the ropes, her gaze distant. "I'm just so nervous, Niki. This might be my only shot, you know? I'm not even signed, but tomorrow night? I will be in this ring with a WVBA boxer and I’m scared. What if I’m in over my head?”

Niki nodded, her expression softening. "I get that. A couple of weeks ago, scared out of my mind. My first fight. Yeah, it was against my best friend, but I thought Cutie was gonna wipe the floor with me."

"How did you get over the nerves?" Skye asked, her eyes searching Niki's for an answer.

Niki sighed. "I didn’t. But, I focused on what I could control. My training, my mindset, my strategy. And I leaned on my support system. Let go of the outcome and just fight my fight."

Skye shook her head. "It's not that simple, Niki. You’ve trained for years, I’ve trained for months. I don’t know what ‘my fight’ is. This is the real deal, and I don't know if I can—"

“Sometimes,” Niki interrupted, resting a steady hand on Skye’s shoulder, “you’ve got to just dive in and find out what you’re made of.”

Skye looked Niki in the eyes, her own still uncertain, “I wish it was that easy for me.”

Niki, a sudden spark in her eyes. "I have an idea. Wanna play a game?"

Skye looked at her, puzzled and intrigued. "A game?"

Niki grinned. "Yeah. How about we go a round? Right here, right now. No crowd, no cameras, no pressure. Just you and me."

Skye hesitated, her eyes widening. "Are you serious?"

Niki nodded. "Absolutely! Sometimes, the best way to face your fears is to confront them head-on. So, what do you say?"

Skye looked at Niki, her eyes widening with confusion and concern. "I say you’re crazy! We don't even have gear, and my debut is tomorrow!"

Niki chuckled, shaking her head. "Whoa, whoa, I'm not suggesting we beat each other up. I'm talking about shadowboxing. We'll move, punch, and defend as if we're each other's shadow. No contact, just a way to work on our skills and shake off some nerves."

Shadowboxing? Skye thought. I've done that plenty of times, but never with a partner. Skye thought, then said, "Okay, I think I get it. Kind of like a dance, but with jabs and hooks?"

Niki grinned. "Exactly! Think of it as a competitive improv dance. We're going to mirror each other's moves, anticipate, and react. It's all about focus and rhythm. All the work and learning and none of the black eyes and bruises."

Skye's eyes lit up, her apprehension giving way to excitement. "Alright, I'm in. Let's do this."

Niki started to loosen up, rolling her shoulders and stretching her arms. "Good. But don't hold back, okay? I'm going all out, and I expect the same from you."

Skye moved to the opposite corner of the ring, bouncing lightly on her toes as she started to loosen up. "Don't worry, I won't go easy on you. Prepare to be amazed."

Niki pulled out her phone, setting a timer. "We'll go for three minutes. Come out swinging when you hear the bell." She placed her phone on the apron and stepped back into her corner.

Skye nodded, her eyes focused, her body taut with anticipation. The buzzer on Niki's phone blared, and they both sprang into action.

For the next few minutes, the ring was a whirlwind of motion. Skye moved gracefully, her feet gliding over the canvas as she threw a series of jabs and hooks into the air. Niki countered, her own movements sharp and precise, her imaginary punches aimed with intent.

"Come on, Skye, is that all you've got?" Niki taunted, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

Skye chuckled, her competitive spirit ignited. "You wish! You ain't seen nothin’ yet!"

Both women moved in a fluid dance of feints, jabs, and dodges, their playful taunts filling the air. "You're good, but you’ve got nothin’ on me," Skye shot back, ducking under Niki's imaginary uppercut.

"Oh, you think so?" Niki retorted, sidestepping and throwing a pretend jab at Skye's head.

As they continued to shadowbox, their movements became more synchronized, their playful taunts turning into words of encouragement. "Nice footwork!" Skye called out as Niki slipped an imaginary straight right.

"Right back at you!" Niki replied, mimicking Skye's bob and weave.

They continued to dance around the ring, their movements fluid and precise, each woman pushing the other to react faster, move smarter. It was a ballet of feints, jabs, and dodges.

The buzzer sounded, signaling the end of the round. Both girls were panting, their faces flushed, their clothes damp with sweat, foreheads glistening from their effort. They met in the center of the ring and hugged, their earlier tension dissipated in the heat of friendly competition.

"Skye, you're good. Really good," Niki said, her eyes sincere. "You've sparred with Joe, and now you have been in this ring with a WVBA boxer. You’re not just ready for tomorrow, you belong here."

Skye smiled, her eyes shining with gratitude. "Thanks, Niki. I really needed this. It helped, more than you know."

Niki looked at her friend, her eyes searching. "Still nervous?"

Skye burst into laughter. "Hell yeah, I'm still nervous!"

Niki joined in the laughter. "Good. Nerves keep you sharp. They make you respect your opponent and the sport. Use them to fuel you, not to hold you back."

Skye nodded, her eyes meeting Niki's. "I will. Thanks, Niki."

Niki picked up her phone, turning off the timer. "This isn't the last time we'll be in this ring together, Skye. Next time, it'll be a real match."

Skye's eyes sparkled at the thought. "I hope so. Because dancing with you for real would be awesome."

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askbohemiancompany · 1 year

Note

Ky (human form) @ Grohl: "Wow..." they peered up over the massive vine structures all around the place, surrounding the area. It was a rather incredible sight, even to an ancient legendary. A small smile appeared on their face, "did you make all of these? They are lovely. Whatever did you make them for?"

Woah. How can a pokemon change their form into a human?

Grohl was always curious what he would look like as a human, but that was not his main concern. His concern was something very powerful just entered his domain, judging from their choice in attire, they were likely a Kyogre.

"Yes. I did. Thank you. It took a loooooooot of my body to make these for our security system. I can know whenever anyone is around and if I find it is someone we don't want around..."

Crushing his own finger inward with an audible crunch, overhead in the furthest distance away from both mons, one of the vines exploded, which led to a few smaller explosions.

"These vines are wired with seed bombs, leech seeds and leeching seed bombs. Each has enough force to maim an intruder, and if they fall badly...there will be more explosions for them too."

Picking up a heavy rock off the ground, Grohl threw it towards a clump that was further away from them. Same crunch, same explosion. The grass type turned his attention back to the legendary.

"They also explode on contact." Grohl sounded in a daze. If no one knew him, they would assume he was stoned. But he was clearly happy. Too happy as he kept his gaze locked on his guest.

Overhead the vine were beginning to move, not the gradual tread of normal, but were moving like snakes in the trees. On the ground, some vines were turning the end of the vines were beginning to point towards the god, as if they were security cameras watching a building.

The better comparison was a snake reading to pounce on their prey. Only thing holding them back was Grohl's dwindling sanity.

"So what is a god of the sea doing on land, in the middle of the woods? With no one around?" His voice sounded stilted, almost as if the tangrowth was trying to appear all together, but was failing. Miserably. If he had a mouth, he would be salivating. His eyes were bloodshot red. It was for the best that the water good did not ask what allowed Grohl to make these vines.

@asksavel

#asks #grohl the tangrowth #asksavel #kyogre

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sincerelybubbles · 1 year

Text

Breakout!

While planning to fulfill the family tradition, Regulus' art studio is raided and his arrest quickly follows suit. Determined to stick to the plan, Sirius, James, Lily, and Mary have to get him out.

(Inspired by Art Heist, Baby!)

ao3 link ~ banner credit wc: 6.6k

notes: [Content Warnings: Mentions of blood, injury, death, guns, and implied gun violence. Nothing is too explicitly gory, everyone survives. The Jegulus and Marylily ships in this are very light and only mildly implied] I wrote this (with changed names, bc I'm not a madman) for my Fiction Craft class this semester. I won't ramble on too much here, so for now: Enjoy!

Tires screech across the pavement and leave dark marks on the faded pavement. Lily squints, eyes straining to see in the moonlight without any headlights. She wrestles with a red curl insistent on sticking to her chapstick but stays focused. She can almost still hear Sirius chanting the plan over again and again in her head.

“Lily’s our driver,” Sirius gestured to her and went to continue his monologue before James groaned.

“Lily? Why Lily?”

“Because, even though your fragile masculinity refuses to acknowledge it, she’s the best driver of all of us. Plus you, my friend, are our gunman.” Sirius turned with a flourish and withdrew a pistol and shotgun from the open duffle bag at his feet. He threw both into James’s eager hands, one after another.

“Okay, never mind, that’s sick. You can stay in the car, Lily.”

“Thanks,” She drawled before leaning back in her seat and throwing her legs up on the table in front of her.

“Mary has our backs with the cameras and security systems,” Sirius motioned to the scrawny kid sitting on the floor, hunched over a laptop. “And I’ll be going into the prison with James to get him.”

Once they all hummed in acknowledgment, sans Mary who was entirely entranced in whatever they had going on with their laptop, Sirius slammed down a paper on the table.

“Here’s how it’s going to go.”

“Left at Route 62,” James reminds her, fiddling with the gun in his lap. His dark eyes are trained on the road ahead, face stern.

“Yeah, got it, James. I know how to do my job.” Lily huffs and turns sharply at the light.

“Just reminding you.” James flashes her one of the grins he thinks is oh-so-charming, and it only slightly works to calm her down. “You know Sirius will kill us if we don’t manage to get him this time.”

“Sirius will do no such thing,” Sirius interjects from the back of the van where he sits with Mary and their mountain of tech. “Because this is going to go perfectly. Mary, do you have the bomb ready?”

“A BOMB?” James interjected.

“Yes.” Sirius seemed unfazed by James’s outburst as he looked down at Mary.

“It’s perfectly safe.” Mary mumbled before they lifted the small clump of wiring from the bag that rested beside them. They were drowning under all of the tech pilled on their lap, dark skin blending in with the black plastic of hard drives and wrapped wires.

“Perfectly safe? A bomb?” James looked near-panting as he glanced at Lily, pushing his dark hair out of his eyes.

Lily wasn’t sure why James was so upset. Breaking an inmate out of a high-security prison? Perfectly okay and safe. Add a small explosive to the mix? Completely unreasonable, apparently.

Though, she was curious as to why Sirius found it entirely necessary for the bomb. He had boasted relentlessly about Mary’s ability to hack them through the prison as easily as walking through a park, so why the need for all the dramatics?

“Let him talk,” Lily nudged James before she looked to Sirius, waiting for him to continue.

“As I was saying.”

“Lily,” Sirius calls. She shoots her hand back to grasp the detonator from Sirius’ hand, her other hand busy holding the van straight as they speed down the barren street. “South exit and then straight back to us. I mean it, don’t stall or it ruins the meaning of a distraction.”

“Yep, heard you the first, second, sixth time.” Lily wishes Sirius and James would just shut up and let her think without having to struggle to focus over the nonstop chatter.

“Pardon me for wanting to make sure we can get Regulus out of that shithole.” Sirius glares up at the cluster of buildings growing before them. “As soon as possible.”

Ah, the shithole – Sirius is so eloquent – that is Azkaban Correctional Institution. This is where they’ve been holding Regulus Black hostage for nearly eight months now. Lily focuses on it as they get nearer and nearer to the building, remembering the blueprint Sirius shoved down their throats and trying to imagine it laying over the building in front of her. Just beyond those doors will be the front desk and, just behind that, a small break room. Down a hallway, up some stairs, take a few lefts and rights, and you’ll be facing Regulus in his small cell.

Lily takes a harsh right and slams on the brakes. James and Sirius throw their doors open and grab their gear the moment the van screeches to a stop.

“Once we get Reg, we’re back on track for business as usual.” Sirius adjusted the corner of the tarp covering one of the many paintings in the warehouse they’re all gathered at. “Luckily, they only raided his personal studio, so we only lost four paintings.”

“What are the chances we get those back?” James asked, running his finger across the grain of the wood table.

“They’ve probably got them on lockdown. Or they’ve burnt them or something,” Lily sighed, tipping her chair back. “It’s not like we’re short on paintings – even without the four we’re still over twenty ready to go.”

“We don’t want to draw any more attention to ourselves either way.” James sat down next to Lily.

Lily watched, chewing on her lip and thinking. “Regulus’s going to be pissed, though.”

Sirius waved a hand across the air as if brushing the words out of existence. He didn’t answer beyond that, just sat and looked at the piles of canvas covering the warehouse.

Lily had asked when she entered the building for the first time, in awe, how long Regulus had been preparing for this. Regulus had looked pleased and admitted that he had been practicing and getting better at making the paintings for years now.

That had been nearly three years ago when she had first met Regulus and James through Mary – back when Sirius still swore up and down that he would never get involved in the family business.

“Why’re we still planning on doing the heist so soon? You know they’re going to be all over us once he’s out. Shouldn’t we wait another year or two?” James asked. Lily looked over and was shocked to find that he didn’t look anxious.

The newest of their group, Lily had her apprehensions about James. He was nice, and Mary vouched for him, but he was always stressed and poorly hiding it. But now he just looked concerned – for Sirius, she assumed. It was nice to see, in a weird way.

She knew they had bonded the past few months but she hadn’t noticed just how much. It shows now in the wrinkle on Olvier’s forehead and how he’s leaned toward Sirius, examining him carefully. If she was being completely honest with herself, they had all been worried about Sirius lately. The messy hair, lost pounds, and immovable determination to complete this heist against all odds was more than concerning.

“We’re doing this now, in two months, just like we planned. I’ve planned for too long to give up now.” That had been his answer for the past two years.

“We have everything ready, too,” Mary added. Lily jumped at their sudden comment. They didn’t tend to pipe up in conversations like this often. A glance in their direction showed hard determination set in their jaw. They were still typing on the laptop resting on their knees, dark hair a puff of chaos around their head, but they looked so sure of themself. So sure of Sirius and his plan.

If Mary was all the way on board with this, so was Lily. They had been her best friend her entire life. Where they go, she follows.

She tipped her chair forward again, letting the legs smack against the floor. “Then let’s just hope luck is on our side this time.” Lily shrugged, “I mean, what’s the worst that could happen?”

“Good luck boys.” Lily manages to give them an easy smile and shoots a wink at James. No need for all of them to be anxious messes and Sirius is visibly sweating. “Don’t have too much fun in there,” she says as she lays her chin on her hand and waves them away with her fingers. She swallows down her own nerves in favor of watching James scoff despite his shaking hands.

“Yeah, okay, Lily. Sure thing. I’ll make sure we leave a few guards for ya.” James spits. Not up to par with his usual banter, but Lily lets it go given the current circumstances. At least he seems more comfortable after falling into the usual routine of bickering with her.

“James!” Sirius barks, signaling he’s ready. James falls into step quickly. “Lily, watch Mary and make sure you’re on time,”

“You’ve got it, cap’tn.” Lily mock salutes and watches them make their way to the building, trying her best to keep herself calm as she fights her worry.

Her boys will be fine, they have to be, and Regulus will be home with them soon.

She watches their backs as they slowly slink around the building to find the door Sirius marked with a yellow circle on all of their maps. Once she can no longer see Sirius’ head reflecting the moonlight, Lily puts the van in drive again and floors it.

James is calm. James is so calm, actually, that he’s not even sure that he knows the definition of panic. Anxiety? Gone, there’s no way he could have it, he’s so calm.

His hands are shaking where they clutch his gun. He watches Sirius press a small device against the frame of the door and tap a few buttons. There is sweat gathering on the top of Sirius’ neck and James focuses on how he can see the moonlight pooling there.

“Wanna take a few more minutes? Wouldn’t want them rushed when we get in there,” James whispers, poorly hiding the shake in his voice.

Sirius ignores him and the door’s locks release open a few seconds later with a faint click. The door is heavy and metal, and it takes both James and Sirius throwing their bodies against it to push the door inward.

“It’s meant to run on that motor,” Sirius grunts, motioning with a jerk of his head to where the clicking of gears can be heard. One final shove and the door is open just enough to cast a small triangle of grey light on the floor.

“Well, you do the honors.” James nods toward the door and motions forward with his gun.

“Please don’t tell me you’re going to be a little bitch through all of this,” Sirius sighs, slipping through the open door.

Indignation flares in James’s chest but he doesn’t say anything as he follows Sirius. He knows he’s on this team to do this part – the brave, action-y part – but he would like to think any reasonable person would be a little wary of entering a high-security prison.

Once they’ve shut the door nearly all the way, they turn on their earpieces. Sirius flicks his fingers forward and James takes the lead, begrudgingly. They make their way through a small reception area first. It’s scarcely furnished and James wrinkles his nose at the faint smell of sweat. As they pass through a room full of seats facing windows for visits, James is glad that they’re getting Regulus out of here before it could come to visits through plexiglass.

He’s only known him for a little over a year but he would hate to have to see him like that, caged up like an animal.

James leads Sirius through the white halls, following a thin beam of light thrown around by his flashlight.

“Guard room to the left,” Mary’s monotone voice sounds in James’s ear and his heart jumps at the sudden sound. He forgot that Mary is monitoring their path through the prison.

“Got it,” Sirius mumbles, moving past James to the window overseeing the hallway. Sirius peeks into the room and watches for a moment. “Three,” he announces. James sighs in relief. His research on the place found that only five guards work the night shift in Kerpie Hall, so only two are crawling around in the hallways with them.

They crouch down to pass the window and James takes the lead again. The adrenaline of this situation is calming him, making him focus instead of worry. A left followed by two rights and another left. The mantra repeats in his head – left, two rights, left again – it’s like a little rhyme that he’s holding onto for dear life. He’ll never live it down if he gets them lost. He wishes, as they creep down the hallways, that he has something to do with his hands.

Sirius smacks him across the head when he begins to quietly hum without realizing it.

Mary clutches their laptop to their chest as Lily takes a sharp right. She really is their best driver, they couldn’t argue with Sirius when he said it, but they do wish that she was gentler with her turns. Their tech clicks at every bump in the road.

They bite back the dry comment about slowing down a little that rests at the tip of their tongue. They don’t want to upset her and they know, after years of claiming shotgun in her beat-up Camry, that backseat driving is a one-stop ticket to Road Rage Lily.

“Your stairwell is up ahead,” they mutter into the mic and wait for Sirius’ quiet response.

“How are the boys?” Lily asks from the driver’s seat. Mary glances up, surprised to find that they’re near the bomb site.

“Slow,” Mary mutters, refusing to let their gaze linger on Lily and her halo of hair ignited in the sunset. They have a job to do, there’s no time to focus on anything else.

“No problems yet, though?” Lily asks and Mary can hear the stress below the casual question.

“No,” Mary answers. They wish that they were more consoling, gentler, softer, but their voice comes out monotone, blank. Out of the corner of their eye, though, they can see Lily relax slightly in her seat.

“Good, those idiots better not fuck this up.”

Mary fights the beginning of a smile and instead focuses on double-checking the programming for the bomb resting on the floor next to them.

Lily parks the car after another few minutes of driving. When Mary glances up again, they see her climbing over the center console. She throws herself down next to them and her pale, freckled legs stretch out next to Mary’s dark ones. Mary raises an eyebrow at her and she knocks her knee against theirs.

“We have three minutes before we’re supposed to go,” Lily explains, “I didn’t hit any of the lights Sirius was worried about.”

Mary nods and returns their focus to their laptop screen.

“Are you guys nearly there?” Sirius asks, voice hushed but clipped.

“We’re here, just waiting for the clock,” Mary’s fingers still on their keyboard as they listen to the huffs of James’s breathing. Are they running?

“Go now,” Sirius snaps.

Mary whips his head around to look at Lily.

“Now.” Mary shoves the bomb into her hands. Lily swallows thickly, frozen for a moment before she springs into action. They watch as Lily scrambles to stand, cradling the bomb gently between her hands as if it will go off any second. Mary pushes down the urge to scoff. They built the bomb, and it’s not going off before they want it to.

“Fuck, shit, fucking shit,” Sirius groans, pushing himself up by his elbows. James offers him a hand, and Sirius takes it, allowing himself to be heaved up.

“Come on,” James demands, tugging Sirius forward by his arm and shoving them both through a door. His gun is pushed back into his hands. Sirius takes care to not look at the man laying on the floor. The man he shot. “Come on, Lily,” James mutters.

“It should have gone off by now,” Sirius tells James, jogging behind him, “Mary?” he asks his headset.

“Mary, don’t be a dick, answer –” James is cut off by the bomb exploding. It’s defining and Sirius feels the vibration in his feet. Both he and James jump to cover their ears. James stumbles, the ground shaking from the blast from the other side of the building, and Sirius flips his hand so that he’s the one yanking James forward by the arm.

Sirius’ ears are ringing and he thinks his nose is bleeding from where the stout guard punched him earlier.

“Right!” James screams.

Sirius barely makes it out over the ringing in his ears. Sirius yanks them both down the hall James signaled to, feet sliding but not stopping, never stopping. His brother is waiting and, as he’s proving right now, nothing is going to stop him from getting to him.

Sirius lifts a hand to his ear while they run. “Bomb was effective!” he shouts, pressing into the small device he hopes is still working. When he moves his hand away, blood coats his fingers, dripping down on his palm. He ignores it, clutching his gun to his chest instead. He and James are so close now that Sirius can nearly taste it.

Months of meticulous planning, months of late-night pacing, months of not eating have all cumulated to this moment. He’s not going to let this slip through his fingers again.

James, despite being the one dragged along, mostly leads them through the maze of white hallways through faint yelling and sloppy hand signals. They’ve chosen their path to specifically avoid all emergency evacuation routes so, while it takes a little bit longer to find the back stairways, they only cross paths with one other guard. James had done his routing job well. Pride for his friend flashes in his chest for a moment before it’s replaced with the knowledge that he is going to have to kill this guard too.

Sirius shoots him with a grimace. He doesn’t think he’s ever going to sleep peacefully again after tonight.

He’s watched his father kill men before without blinking. But this? Holding the gun and pulling the trigger himself?

Sirius has been thrust into a whole new world without half a second to process it. He can feel the inner parts of himself changing, shifting, never to be the same again with every bullet that leaves the gun clutched between his hands.

And, right now, all he knows is go, run, faster, get to Regulus. Whatever it takes, get to Regulus and get life back to where it’s supposed to be.

Regulus waits patiently. He can hear the commotion outside and he smiles when the two guards outside of his door end their argument by deciding to evacuate with the others rather than maintain their posts.

“He’s so little, dude. Honestly, what can he do?” Had been the guard’s final argument to get his friend to abandon their stations.

What, indeed.

He weighs his options as he waits, sitting cross-legged on his bed. A part of him is sure that this is his stupid brother’s work – Sirius’ name is written all over this chaos – but he knows it would be foolish of him to pin all of his hopes on that.

Regulus begins to think, tapping his fingers on his knees while he waits. Does he want to break out of here? It’s not really a case of wrongful indication. He’s proud to admit that every stroke on the forged painting came from his own brush, and he truly is content serving his seven years in peace. No taxes, free meals, and a pretty alright bed with no cellmate (his last three roommates were all sent to solitary – and he doesn’t think another one is coming anytime soon), Regulus isn’t all too worried about passing his time here. He’ll still be in her twenties when he’s released – basically his entire life set in front of her, waiting to be lived. Actually, if they give him any sort of painting materials, he doesn’t think she would consider a breakout plan himself. But, the officers refuse to, and his palms have been itching to paint for all eight months he’s been locked in this all-white room.

Plus, there’s his family to think of. Sirius, the idiot, won’t just sit there and wait for Regulus to get out patiently. Lily and Mary would probably be on board with it too and James. Well, Regulus won’t think of James here, not now.

He can’t, he can’t ruin whatever they’ve started by thinking it over and over, sitting alone in his cell. There’s too much time for him to ruin it like he ruins everything, so he pushes James out of his mind and keeps tapping on his knee, thinking.

“I hate when you do that,” Sirius groaned, pushing the door open and dropping his bag on the floor next to the bed.

“Do what?” Regulus asked, blinking slowly at him.

“You sit and sort of just stare off into the distance. And your eyes get all wide like an owl, it’s freaky.”

“I was just trying to decide if it’s done or not.” Regulus returned his attention to the canvas propped up against the wall across from him.

Sirius sighed and kicked off his boots before throwing himself on the bed beside Regulus. He didn’t move to make room for him so he was left with the corner of the bed to perch on.

He joined in on his staring.

In front of them sat a nearly-perfect replica of The Return of the Prodigal Son . Nearly perfect. Nearly, but not quite. Regulus tipped his head to the side and continued his staring.

Sirius groaned, mumbling a drawn-out, “Freaky” before heaving himself up onto his feet. “Come on, time to go meet the others.”

“Ah, yes, that’s today. I’m beyond excited, this will be just so interesting to sit through.”

Sirius rolled his eyes at him while he stood and began to roll the canvas up gently, “It’s a multi-stage, extremely controlled operation, Reg, not grocery shopping. Your head needs to be in the game.”

“It’s an art heist, Sirius, not rocket science,” Regulus threw Sirius a cold stare and situated the canvas bag on his shoulder, “I mean, if Dad could manage to do it three times, how hard can it really be?”

Regulus is just deciding he might as well make an attempt at the window when he hears boots pounding on the ground outside of his door.

His cell is completely enclosed. It’s more like a miniature apartment than a cage. The door has one of those smaller windows with bars running vertically along it and a small flap that can only be opened from the outside. Because he is fully enclosed by stark white walls, he can’t see who’s approaching.

Keen on patience, Regulus maintains his perch on his bed, legs tucked underneath him, and watches with wide eyes.

He can’t make out the quiet words, but he can tell it’s definitely men on the other side of the door. There’s no handle on the door, just a small computer that engages the motor to open the cell for daily yard time.

Curiously, Regulus watches as the small light at the top of the door blinks green, then yellow, red, then back to green. After a second, there’s a snap, a small cheer, and the door slides open.

“Hello, welcome in,” Regulus greets his brother, eyes scanning him. He’s rather filthy, covered in blood and dirt. It doesn’t really suit him. Next to him is James. He’s also covered in blood and dust but less so, and Regulus can just make out how his olive skin has paled since he last saw him. He sends him a smile and Regulus returns itm heart aching for a moment before he can get it under better control.

Against his better wishes, he really hoped they were on the way for her, and he’s beyond pleased to see them. “Come, have a seat.”

“No time, we have to go.” Sirius steps forward toward his twin-sized bed and offers a hand.

Regulus wrinkles his nose and ignores it. No way he’s touching his hand when it clearly is caked in blood. Probably his if the drips on his shoulder are anything to go by. Slowly, he stands and brushes off his pants.

“Yes, alright, if you insist.”

Regulus takes a step forward only to be stopped by Sirius grabbing his shoulder. He lifts his finger and he and James both adopt distant expressions for a moment. He can hear the faint chatter coming from the radios in their ears.

He waits impatiently as they listen to whoever is on the other side – probably Mary if he were to take a guess. He watches James fidget with his gun as Sirius has a hushed, clipped conversation with his headset about alternate routes and guard paths. He tries to focus, determine if it really is Mary on the other side, before he gets distracted watching James’ hands fiddle with the gun. His palms are itching to reach out and stop him, to make him still and calm, when there is a loud bang from the hallway followed by several quick pop pop pop s.

“We need to move!” James grabs his arm and yanks him to his side.

“Fuck it, go the original way! And, run , Regulus!” Sirius is already throwing himself out of the door as he makes his demands.

“I won’t run,” Regulus sigs, disgruntled at the distraction from his painting. “I just want to set my things down.”

“Sir, if you don’t follow our orders we will have no choice other than to use force to restrain you.”

“Alright, alright, just a moment.” Regulus put his hands in the air, slowly turning around and sending a placating smile to the officer in front of him. He noticed how her gun shook in her clasped hands and clicked his tongue. Regulus hated that he could see the woman’s nerves – she was doing such a good job at being intimidating until now.

Once his hands were securely put into the air, the second male officer behind the first moved forward and grabbed his wrist.

“Regulus Black, you are under arrest for uttering a false instrument that aided in the completion of felony-level theft. You have the right to remain silent, everything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.” The officer locked the cuffs behind Regulus’s back as he listened to him drone on about lawyers.

“Reg?” Regulus’s head snapped to the right at Sirius’ voice.

He watched as he pushed his way forward. A third officer appeared and pressed his hand to Sirius’ chest. He fought for a moment before searching the room and locking eyes with Regulus.

He met his eyes, watching as he searched his face. He looked like a mess, long hair sticking up in all different directions. He hadn’t been quite right since the studio was raided two days ago. He’d been going on rants about never living up to the legacy their Dad left for them every few hours or so and, with every long, drawn-out speech, Regulus watched him dive deeper and deeper into a sort of madness.

Sirius thrived best with a plan. He always had, their entire childhood was chock-full of grand adventures marked out to a T. And – with the last bit of his original idea to clean out the Hogwarts Museum of Art fading away with Regulus’s current situation – he looked even worse than he had when he left the apartment hours before. His grey eyes frantically jumped between Regulus, the handcuffs binding his wrists, and the officer slowly holstering her gun.

He could see the cogs turning in his head. Calculating, formulating, grinding.

“What the fuck is going on here?”

“Your boyfriend is under arrest, man. He gets a phone call, wait for then, but you can’t go in there.” The officer continued to pull Sirius back.

Seeming to realize he had no other choice, Sirius let the guard push him back another step, finally looking over to the shorter man.

“He’s my brother, dickwad,” Sirius sneered.

“It’s alright, Sirius,” Regulus called, rolling his wrists in his cuffs. He wasn’t initially planning on calling Sirius when he got to the station, his first thought had been Lily, but he supposed Sirius worked just as well. Anything to keep him planning and not breaking down.

“I’ll call you soon, we’ll have a nice chat then!” Regulus promised, cooperating as the female guard pushed him forward and down the stairs of his apartment complex.

Lily fights the urge to chew her nails while they wait for everyone to appear at the pick-up sight.

“Stop tapping. It’s making me nervous,” Mary drones from beside her.

“Sorry, your majesty, wouldn’t want the Princex feeling worried on a day like today, that would be just awful.”

“No need to be rude just because I know how to keep my composure.”

“Oh, this is keeping your composure, is it?” Lily scoffs, “I would call it being a dick.”

“Better a dick than a pussy.”

“Oh, really , you’re going to make that argument?” Lily snarls, whipping around to face Mary.

Mary opens their mouth to answer but their eyes widen as they look up at the figures approaching over her shoulder.

“Open the doors,” Mary demands, shoving their laptop to the side and standing.

Lily doesn’t hesitate, launching herself over the console to throw the van doors open as Mary rummages through their bag. She doesn’t look behind her to assess the damage. Anxiety in the form of hot bubbling lava settles in the bottom of her stomach.

It doesn’t take long for James to breach her line of sight once she’s thrown the back doors of the van open. He’s a mess, bleeding and stumbling all over the place. Lily yanks him inside the van by his arm, leaning out to search for Sirius and Regulus. It takes a few more seconds, but finally, they show – and Lily sees why Mary is taking everything out of the small medical bag. Sirius is carrying an unconscious Regulus over his shoulder.

Lily stumbles out of the van to help him, ignoring Mary’s yelling. Yes, she’s well aware that she should be getting behind the wheel and preparing to beat feet, but Sirius is stumbling under Regulus’ weight and a massive amount of blood is soaking his sweater. If she hadn’t seen James seconds ago, weak on his feet and bleeding from his face, she would have been pissed that he wasn’t helping too.

“I’ve got him!” Sirius barks and then stumbles seconds later.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sure you do,” Lily mutters. Sometimes she thinks that Sirius assembled their team based on the most stubborn people he could find, rather than the best team for an art heist.

It doesn’t take any coaxing to get Sirius to accept her help though, and soon Lily is running back to the van with Regulus in her arms. He’s bleeding from a cut on his neck. Lily assumes it’s a graze wound but isn’t sure.

Mary is there to take Regulus from Lily’s arms. “Get us out of here,” they snarl, turning and setting Regulus in James’s lap.

“Route A or C?” Lily asks Sirius over her shoulder. He grunts as he tugs the van doors closed.

“C.”

Lily sends him a nod and crawls back into the driver’s seat. The van is still running. She switches gears and punches the gas.

Being involved in a police car chase is nowhere near as fun as James thought it would be. It mainly involves a lot of cursing from Lily and snarky remarks from Mary.

“Jesus Christ, if you think I’m doing such a shit job come do it yourself!” Lily snaps.

Mary closes their mouth after that – James knows that they don’t have their license.

James ignores the sound of gunfire from outside, used to it after the past ten minutes of driving. He thought that the police would have better aim but they still haven’t managed to hit a single tire. He watches Regulus’s face instead, holding his head on his lap while Mary does their best to patch Sirius up. Regulus had woken up a few minutes ago and Mary had already bandaged his wounds. He’s now resting with her eyes closed, mouth twitching into small, nearly unnoticeable smiles at Lily and Mary’s bickering.

“I’ve missed you,” he had mumbled quietly to James before shutting his eyes a few moments ago. James decides he can’t linger on that now but tucks the three words into the back of his mind to obsess over later.

Lily throws the van into a sudden turn and James looks up to watch her concentrate. She’s chewing at her lip intently, glaring at the moonlit road ahead of her.

James’s gaze turns to Sirius after a moment. He had been shot in the side and then arm on their path back to the van. James knows he made it out lucky with his minor scrapes and bruises compared to the bloody mess Sirius is. Looking at Sirius makes him feel light-headed from all of the blood.

“That’s the best I can do,” Mary mutters, taping off a piece of gauze.

Sirius has always been pale but he’s looking sort of gray now. Blood is dribbling out of the corner of his mouth. James grimaces and looks back at Regulus, searching his face to make sure he hasn’t fallen asleep again. He opened her eyes at Mary’s voice, now watching Sirius with wide, slate-grey eyes.

He feels quite queasy, it’s obvious Sirius isn’t doing well. James fights a gag as he lifts his blood-dampened shirt away from his chest and settles more comfortably with Regulus in his lap. He definitely made the right choice in not going to med school if how he’s reacting now is any indication.

“Then that’ll have to be okay for now,” Sirius pants, pulling his undershirt down with a wince. “When we get back to the house I can pull some strings to get a doctor over.”

Maybe James should have at least tried med school, now that he’s thinking about it and resolutely not looking over at Mary cleaning up from where he crudely stitched Sirius’ arm and side up.

If he had given med school a shot he might have been in a different math class two years ago and would have never met Mary. Never meeting Mary would have never turned into meeting Lily and then Sirius. Without him, none of them would be here.

“Sirius?” Regulus asks softly. For the first time since they’d left his cell, he sounds affected by all of this.

“I’m alright, Reg,” Sirius reassures him. Though, James can hear in his voice that even he doesn’t believe himself.

James, against his better judgment, risks another glance in Sirius’ direction and immediately feels bad that he was just thinking so bitterly about his friend. Sirius is his best friend, if he’s being honest, and he’s thinking about how he could’ve avoided meeting him while he bleeds out on the floor.

Lily lets out a frustrated scream from the driver’s seat. James fights a snort at the sudden intrusion and turns to watch Lily drive instead of Sirius’ struggling breathing.

He’ll have plenty of time later to consider (and reconsider and re-reconsider) if agreeing to this shit-storm was worth it in the first place.

They all fall silent, save for Lily’s quiet ranting as she struggles to lose their tail and Sirius’ wheezing breaths. James looks around at their small group, watching their determined faces and wondering how the rest of them have justified being here.

He’s aware, of course, that Sirius and Regulus have been a part of this entire scene their whole lives.

The family business , Sirius had called it when the topic first came up. Only then, he sounded so jaded. So angry at the idea. A stark contrast to the loving way he’s talked about it heist while they planned it.

But he can’t help but wonder how Mary and Lily have justified the crime in their minds. Was it the promise of the money? Two and a half years ago, Mary was in the same Microbiology class as James, and Lily wasn’t even living in Florida. He knows that Mary and Lily have known Sirius and Regulus for years now, but his head is spinning as the reality of the entire situation is really catching up to him.

He thought he was making cool, new friends in college. Now, they’re all part of the final step of phase one of a large-scale art heist.

Well, stage one of Plan B.

No matter how you cut it, life is weird now and, as James stares numbly through the windshield, he can’t stop thinking about it. A hysterical laugh is stuck in the bottom of his chest.

His parents think he’s in his dorm right now, preparing to graduate with his Doctorate next month. Instead, he’s running from the police as they fail to blow out their tires.

He knew this would be dangerous, but damn, knowing it is an entirely different beast than living it.

It’s while James is lost in his thoughts that Sirius faints. Mary manages to catch him as Lily hits a bump in the road. They meet James’s eyes over Sirius’ limp body, looking more panicked than James has ever seen them.

“FUCK YEAH!” Lily shouts but even that intrusion can’t break James’s stupor. “I think we’ve lost them!” Lily celebrates.

“Does he have a pulse?” James asks, snapping out of it. Mary checks and then rolls Sirius off their lap, frantically shaking their head.

James’s world stops spinning.

“Guys, what’s happening?” Lily asks, obviously overhearing them.

Regulus sits up. He and James watch as Mary presses into Sirius’ chest. They’re keeping a steady rhythm, counting under their breath.

James winces as he hears Sirius’ chest crack under Mary’s hands.

Regulus jumps forward at the sound of Sirius’ ribs snapping. James rushes to catch him as he sways. He collects him in his arms quickly, holding him tightly and preventing him from getting in the way.

He’s sobbing.

James grips her harder in his arms. She shakes and cries while they watch Mary work over Sirius.

The only thing keeping James from lunging forward and holding Sirius, yelling at him to just breathe is Regulus in his arms. He’s holding the stars while watching the Earth fade away in front of him and he’s only able to keep himself together by brute force.

It only takes a few more presses against Sirius’ chest for him to begin coughing. Blood splatters on Mary’s cheek.

Regulus sags against James, falling limp in his lap. He’s crying still, silently now.

James lets out a startled noise, something between a laugh and a sob, and turns Regulus in his lap so they’re sitting in some sort of an awkward hug.

Lily is still driving, now bringing them to their safe house, no doubt. She went silent somewhere in the struggle, whipping her head to look back and forth between the road and the group behind her.

Sirius is breathing again, Regulus is scooting forward to cradle his head, Mary is wiping their face with the corner of their sleeve, and James is slumping back, cradling Regulus to his chest.

They’re all safe, right now, in this moment. And, yeah, everyone in this cramped van is a pain in James’s ass, but fuck , he loves them. He loves them, and they’re safe.

Exhausted, James closes his eyes for what feels like the first time in the past two hours and lets out a crazed laugh. The easy part is over. Now it’s time to start the real challenge: the art heist is just beginning.

While this fic is inspired by otrtbs Art Heist, Baby! (and I am documenting that in the fic) it id not set in that universe and Art Heist, Baby! does not need to be read to understand this! I just liked the dynamic a lot and I wanna give credit to it as my inspiration for this. That being said, if you want more explicit Jegulus and Sirius, I would go there and read that wonderful, longer fic. Just be sure to read the warnings!! I hope everyone was somewhat in character, I didn't want it to be too obvious that I was submitting a Marauders fic for class :T Also so bummed I couldn't sneak Remus into the plot as well but I had a word count limit :((( In other news, I have no clue when, but I do have a loooong Jegulus and Wolfstar fic in the works. It won't be posted for a long time, I don't think, but keep your eye out for that!! I promise, it has so much more going on than this silly little one shot. please do not repost my fics or translate without my approval! i only post my content on this tumblr and on the linked ao3 -- anything else is not me :)) rb's are appreciated!!

-moon <3

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