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eirian-houpe · 1 year

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Disparate Pathways - Chapter 53

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Chapter 53 - Desperate Measures

She cried herself to sleep. Wrapped up in the blanket that somehow still smelled of Rein, she curled up and gave vent to her roiling emotions until her chest ached, her cheeks ached, and the yawn that forced its way from her lungs carried her down into darkness.

Belle couldn’t tell what woke her, but it made her sit up, her heart pounding. It was colder too. The fire that Ruby had lit in the main room reached only so far, and the wind outside was audibly whipping the trees.

It was a filthy night.

Her face was sticky where the tears had wet her face and she ran a hand over it, finding it still damp in places, but she felt numb to it. Disbelief had settled heavy in her belly, now all she felt was the pounding of her fear.

The noise came again and she started to look around the cabin’s bedroom for something she could use as a weapon. She couldn’t find anything, of course, save as before the poker from the fire, so she hefted it, swung her feet to the floor and moved to the middle of the room where she might have more space to wield it. She held it as she’d seen described in some of the books she read, as a great Sword. Do the brave thing, she told herself, drawing a deep breath.

This time she identified the sound as footsteps that mounted the wooden deck mere seconds before the door opened, creaking slightly. She should have locked it, she knew, locked it behind Rein, but part of her - a large part - had hoped she would come back. She knew it wasn’t him, however. It had opened differently when Rein came in. The tread was heavy, and there was something about it that wasn’t at all right.

In the flickering light from only the dying fire, and the one small lantern, she couldn’t tell who it was, but the shape of him was big and hulking - threatening in more than just its presence where she knew it shouldn’t be. As she peered into the darkness, the intruder began to move around the cabin as if looking for something; looking for her she guessed, with a degree of mounting dread. He moved inexorably toward where she stood, trembling in the middle of the bedroom. Her already pounding heart began to race even more as the floorboard right before the door creaked, and her mouth went dry as she saw past the shadow that had, so far, obscured him.

On legs that felt like pudding, barely able to breathe for the tightness of fear in her chest, and limbs that tingled as though a thousand ants crawled all over them, her palms became instantly sweaty against the warmed metal of the poker. She tried to hold herself still until he was close enough before she launched herself at him when he entered the room, but her intended cry of anger meant to bolster her spirits died in her throat as if a hand had closed around her windpipe as soon as she recognized who it was.

The tall, thickly built man grinned as soon as he saw her, and he laughed softly, mockingly at her show of defiance, even as that defiance died right in front of him. He was still the same bull of a man, but that laugh, and the grin that came after, revealed the gruesome truth of the injuries he had suffered to his face as it cracked open the swollen weeping cheek where evidence of medical tape still hung like a ribbon from beneath his eye.

“You…!” she breathed out in a rush. Her voice brittle with terror, not of his once handsome, now hideous, appearance - as though some kind of magical, but distorting mirror, had placed the inner image of the man upon the outside for all to see - but in recognition of the fact of his survival from the fall. “I… it can’t be.”

“Hello, my little Belle,” he said, his voice at least remained the same, though that was cold comfort, given all that he had said to her with it the last time they had met. “I told you that you belong to me. Seems now, I’m going to have to teach you more than a few lessons… and show you what that means.”

“But… but you… you fell,” she stammered, not really taking in his words, dwelling in denial of them for a few moments more before she backed up as he took measured, almost swaggering steps on a deliberately meandering path so that it would take him a while to reach her; prolong the hunt; tenderize the meat. “You fell.” she repeated, “I pushed you and you fell.”

He shrugged a little, offering another sickly smile, and murmured, “Take more than the likes of you to get one over on me.”

“I saw you. I saw you!” she said, her mind stuck in a loop of abject terror, trying to keep distance from him, but running out of room to maintain that space, “You fell, and hit the fountain underneath. I saw you dead. You can’t be here, you can’t b--”

She broke off with a scream as reached out for her more quickly than a man of his size should have been able to move, and slapped aside her defensive swing with the poker. He grabbed her wrists in powerful hands and pulled her closer until he could wind her hair around his fingers. He pulled her head back. She felt as if he were going to fold her in two, and she cried out again from the pain he caused in the back of her neck. Then he leaned right into her face.

The stench of his blood ladened breath seeped into her own, and he said with quiet menace, “Lesson one.” He began to drag her toward the bed. She clawed at the hand, the fist in which he painfully twisted her hair. “No one refuses Gaston.” He threw her down. “I will have you.” He shrugged off his jacket and reached for his belt. She rolled to the side, but he caught her again, and tossed her, like a sack of grain, back to the middle of the bed, only to return to the task of unfastening his belt. “And believe me,�� he boasted, “After me, you’ll never want another man ag–”

The door burst open, and Belle closed her eyes in a desperate prayer that whoever it was had come to stop him, or at least distract him so that she could get away. She cursed herself that she had thrown Rein’s keys to who knew where in the outside room.

“Gaston!”

A wiry little man, uncaring of what he might be disturbing, began to hurry across the outside room, not even bothering to close the door behind him, so intense was his agitation. He was panting from exertion, yes, but also with the unique scent of fear.

“You gotta get out of here, he’s coming. He’s coming!”

It would have been a cliche to have moaned as he surfaced from the brief unconsciousness into which his capture had rendered him, and he refused to be a cliche, especially not to satisfy his mother’s demands. As opened his eyes barely enough to see, not yet wanting her to know that he had awoken. He strained his ears to listen in on the conversation she was having with her deputies.

“...doesn’t matter,” Duneach was saying. “Maurice is not interested at all in what we might do with her, and honestly I’m of a mind to let Gaston finish what he started.”

“But I thought–”

“Sometimes, dearie,” she said, “It pays to know your quarry as well as you know yourself… better even–you can stop pretending, Reinauld.” She hadn’t even broken her sentence to take a breath. “I know that you’re awake.”

He knew he had to compose himself against anything that would happen, but composure eluded him in the sure and certain knowledge that with his capture, and with the way he had left the cabin, he had failed. He had failed to keep Belle safe

“You shouldn’t feel too badly about it, Reinauld.” Duneach said, as she turned to him, a knowing look on her face as though she could tell what he was thinking. “ You were never going to be able to keep her safe… or keep her for yourself for that matter, not from the moment Jefferson brought her to you.”

His quick mind grasped at all the pieces of the puzzle that had suddenly been thrown into his lap as he shook off the fog of his awakening, building an ugly picture that he wanted, even now, to deny.

“It wasn’t about Belle.” he said, “It was never about her.”

“Oh really, Reinauld, it took you this long to figure that out?” She sighed exaggeratedly, “Mother takes little girls, and little boys come to that, and makes them her own, or have you forgotten?” She moved closer then, and he began to struggle just a little, at the ropes that bound him to the chair. “But Mummy never likes anyone to ‘get away,’ so no… though she’s been useful, and continues to be, even now, to cement alliances with those that might otherwise have been our rivals, no. It was never about her.”

“So help me, if you so much as touch her…!”

“Such passion,” she said, and leaned over him to tease at bindings that were holding him in place. He should have struck out; used his already aching head as a weapon.. It would have been the perfect opportunity, but he dare not risk reprisals against Belle, to punish him for such an audacious act. “It might almost have been worth seeing what you’d agree to if I could… save her from that fate, but… no.” Fiona Duneach shook her head, “That ship has sailed. That one’s a done deal.”

“Leave her alone. Let her go! ” he snarled all the same, dread and fear and hate and failure burning him, heart and body and soul.

“Never did listen, did you?” Duneach said, as if disappointed. “You crossed me, Reinauld. You rejected everything I offered to you, you defied me, and now you have tried to take me down. If I’m going to keep this organization under control, my people must understand that no one, not even my own son, gets away with betrayal like that.” She ran an almost tender fingertip down his cheek, then turned away. “Miss West?”

“You’re insane if you believe anything you could do to me would change my mind about you, your lies, your twisted little empire,” he snarled.“I will never acquiesce to your madness.”

“Maybe not to you, dearie,” she smirked at him over her shoulder., “but there are plenty of other people that I could use to make you see… sense.” Turning away again to face the approaching West, she instructed, “Make him suffer, there’s a dear. I trust you’ll teach him the lesson that Mother knows best, and be sure he tells you where to find Baeden before he dies.”

She flowed from the room then, an oil slick on stormy waters, leaving him face to face with West in the sure and certain knowledge that she would do exactly as his mother had told her. She would torture him, use all of her wicked whiles, and he would die from it because he would never reveal, to his mother or to anyone else just where he had left his son until he might wake. No amount of pain or suffering would convince him to do that. He had failed Baeden once, now if he could protect Bae by his own death, then so be it.

He turned to see West stepping his way. His mind raced. She had always been loyal to Duneach. West would do as she was told, unless…

She took advantage of the distraction, tried to; to roll aside and get away from Gaston’s vice like grip on her wrist, pulling and pulling until - however painful - she managed to get it free. It would bruise, she was in no doubt as to that.

“What the fuck, LeFou!”

She had almost made it to the edge of the bed, and from there to the floor, but he turned back in time to see, and once again caught her painfully by the hair.

“Can’t you see I’m busy.”

“You don’t understand,” the wiry little man warned, hardly yet inside the main room of the cabin, a further distraction allowing Belle to reach up and claw at Gaston’s hand. It only earned her a slap for her troubles.

“I understand you’re–”

He got no further, and LeFou turned in fear to face the still swinging door that had barely closed behind him, it flew open again admitting a tall figure, silhouetted against the swirl of fallen leaves outside, but clearly paying none of the weather any mind. In the same, fluid motion with which he stepped inside, he reached for Gaston’s little weasel and caught him by the cuff even as he tried to run.

The cuff twisted, tightened around the wrist, and the wrist led the arm to twist behind LeFou as the newcomer turned him to face into the cabin again; twisting until a cry of pain sent LeFou to his knees, babbling for clemency; for mercy… for the man to stop.

A single retort deafened the night and the base of LeFou’s skull splintered, deepening the orange and yellow flickering light from the fire and the lantern with a crimson mist in the instant he fell forward, released by the avenging nightmare.

“Hands. Off.”

He stepped over LeFou, his booted feet heavy on the wooden floor.

“Who the–” Gaston broke off as the man raised his weapon again, and something in the way he held the gun was familiar to Belle, who scrambled back against the pillows, away from danger. “Wait… wait!”

A second gunshot, and a cry of pain, and the end of the bed was pebbled with sticky droplets as Gaston’s knee exploded. His weight no longer supported, his leg buckled beneath him, Gaston dropped to the floor, began scrambling backwards, away from the stalking stranger, pushing with his one good leg.

“Long drop,” the figure said, gesturing with the barrel of his gun towards Gaston’s face, and this time Belle recognized the tones in the voice if not the voice itself. There was something bitter, harsh about the way it spat the two syllables.

“The fuck do you–?”

Another shot ripped the night apart. Gaston’s thigh this time.

“Judge… jury…” a last gunshot, the same distance as between Gaston’s ruined knee, and the wound in his thigh, though more to the center. Belle covered her ears at the pure, wounded animal howl that tore from Gaston’s mouth. She closed her eyes against the terrible and terrifying sight.

Then silence, broken only by snatches of panicked breath which it took Belle several heartbeats to realize were her own. At the rustle of fabric from nearby she shrank further back against the pillows, but when nothing else happened she opened her eyes.

The figure turned from covering the dying Gaston and Belle gave a sob of relief.

“Jefferson!”

She started to rise, ready to come to him; to throw herself at him and hold tightly to him as she might a rock on unsteady ground. The blank expression, the hollow, haunted look in his eyes stopped her before she had even moved, and fresh fear settled inside of her.

“Jefferson?”

He stared at her as though he didn’t recognize her, then stepped away from Gaston, and toward where she knelt, frozen in the center of the bed.

“Don’t… please,” she implored, but he shook his head as he reached for her; encircled her already bruised wrist with his unyielding grasp. “I… I don’t understand.”

“I am under no obligation to make sense to you,” he said, and began to half drag, half carry her back toward the door.

“Celene,” Gold began, trying to make his voice as soft as possible, solicitous. “Listen to me and I can help you; give you what you want.”

“You think it would be that easy to convince me to turn against Fiona?” She stepped toward him uncapping a hypodermic needle as she did. “How many times, Reinauld, have you rejected my advances, our alliance, to think you’d want to help me now? Do I look that stupid?”

“No,” he said at once, looking up at her as she moved to straddle him where he sat in the chair and began pushing at the shoulders of his jacket.. “Hungry. You look hungry ,” he told her. “Tired of playing second fiddle.” He left just enough of a gap for his words to sink in before he added, “You can be where she is.”

He swallowed as she ran a hand over his shoulders. His jacket gone - his waistcoat too under the deft movement of her fingers, and her touch scalded him through only the silk of his shirt.

“I know how it feels,” he persisted. “Lived my entire life in her shadow - her second best for as long as I can remember. Why do you think I got out?”

“They said you had a… change of heart,” West answered, and he felt her starting to waver, starting to believe what she wanted to believe, rather than the truth that he would give to her.

“They say… a lot of things,” he pitched his voice low as she cupped his chin, making him look up at her, making him meet her eyes. “They don’t know what the hell they’re talking about. I wanted out, yes… and I wanted to take my son with me… because I knew… knew that I could be better than her.” he held her gaze, moistened his lips, “She’s old now, Celine… and I still know all her little secrets.” He let his voice drop to a whisper, “And they could all be yours.”

“For a price?” West swallowed as she voiced the first indication that she was listening, and still far more susceptible to his levels of persuasion than even he could have hoped.

“Everything comes with a price,” he told her, shallowing his breath and shifting in his seat beneath her. “All you have to ask yourself is if you’re willing to pay it… or not.”

He felt her fingers slide down his arms, and he forced himself to stillness. This… seduction… he was attempting could have gone two ways, and while he would have endured whatever path she decided, he was more than relieved that she decided to be more direct than taking a sexual path to power. He might not have been able to maintain that for long. She disgusted him.

Finally he felt the ropes around his wrists go completely slack, and he shook his hands free of their bindings before she could change her mind, or come to her senses. Instead he wrapped his arms around West’s back, teasing with his fingers until she leaned down and moaned against his neck, and he could run the fingers of one hand into her hair, and the other down to clasp her fingers in his own, catching the smooth cylinder she held between their joined hands.

“What do I have to do,” she murmured.

“Oh, it’s really simple, dearie,” his hand in her hair shifted its grasp, he tightened his fingers round her own, and then suddenly tugged backwards and to the side on her hair, and he supposed to someone as delusional as West tended to be, he might have been about to lavish kisses on her exposed skin. Her breathing had become shallow, and he held his own, before letting out a single word in a rush.

“Die.”

Faster and more strongly than he’d ever moved in his life, Gold bent his hand and West’s, upward to her neck, a single strike that drove the needle deeply into her flesh and pushed the plunger in the same moment, releasing the cocktail of drugs into her system. He held her tightly as she tried to move away. Some of her hair tore from her scalp in her frantic effort.

“No!” she wailed, “You can’t! You… your code!”

He pushed her backwards, enough to tear open the front of the green cotton blouse she wore, to access the hidden blade he knew she kept there. He should know. She had used it against him often enough in the past.

He laughed coldly. “Code…? Oh, Celine, you poor, deluded creature.” He shook his head as he looked up and down along the length of the blade, now in his hand, and whispered, “My code… only applies to a lady.”

He pressed the tip of the blade against her skin at the base of her sternum, and pushed, hard, twisting his hand as he did so, and kept the cord of her hair wound around the other, as she jerked… spasmed… and finally grew still.

It was only then that he began to feel the pain that began burning its way up from his thigh, and heard the glassy tinkle of a second syringe as it fell to the floor.

“This is getting to be a habit,” Emma quipped in a half whisper as she flanked one side of the cabin door, as David took the other and shot her a withering look.

“You need to take your work a tad more seriously, Sheriff Swan,” he hissed, and nodded at her as he pushed open the door. It swung to the extent of its hinges, and began to bounce back as the both rolled through, and David almost tripped as they found the first of the bodies.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the man, missing the back of his head, was already dead, and David felt no need to reach down to confirm that fact by trying to find the man’s pulse. Emma had already moved past him. He could easily see that the rest of the room was empty, but he took a moment to look around it anyway. He figured Emma would be safe enough investigating the other room. Whatever had happened here was already over and done.

“Holy shit!” Emma’s exclamation from beyond the door gave him pause, and then she called out more urgent still, “David!”

He abandoned his search and hurried to her side, and even with a strong stomach, almost retched as she lifted the blood-soaked comforter to show him what lay beneath.

“Gold, you think?” he asked, mastering his roiling stomach.

“Wouldn't have thought he had it in him. This kind of fury…”

“Depends,” David confessed. “If I found someone…” he paused to search for the right word, but couldn’t come up with something that both said what he needed it to say, and was subtle enough to be polite. In the end he settled for, “forcing himself on Mary Margaret, I could see myself…” he nodded toward the mangled groin of the victim. “Probably feed them to him as well.”

Emma moved to the other end of the corpse, and lifted the comforter to get a better look at the man. “Not exactly a pretty face, either,” she said, and David leaned closer to investigate what she meant.

“Guy was either… unlucky or unpopular,” he said, and gestured to Emma to cover the man up again. “So… where to?”

Emma shook her head. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

With a sigh, David moved back out to the cabin’s main room, more willing to share space with the headless corpse while he tried to think. Emma, ever pragmatic, followed him, and began to rifle through the dead man’s pockets, standing up a moment later to bring him a map, scrawled on one of Granny’s napkins.

“Ring any bells?” she asked.

“No, I…” David began, not recognizing the configuration of roads, set along side the list of landmarks, but then he stopped, turned the paper another way. “Wait, I know this place.”

Emma moved closer, looking around the top of his arm as he pointed out the streets. “This is the corner of Canon and Lear, where Ms Bethel used to live,” he said, and pointed to another area on the map, “which means this is Old North Forest Road.” He traced his finger across the paper to follow the road. “Hardly anyone bothers to come out this way, because the south road connects with the highway up past the town line. This road…” he flicked the paper, “just loops back around to the forest.”

“So you think these that Gold warned me about are holed up out there?”

David shook his head. “There’s an old mansion out there. No one’s lived there for years… decades maybe. I don’t think anyone even knows who owns it. If they’re anywhere. That’s it.”

Emma nodded. “I’ll call it in,” she said, and then gestured around to justify what she’d just said. “If this is anything to go by, we’re going to need all the help we can get.”

Out of the frying pan, into the fire.

Belle had always hated that stupid idiom, but now she couldn’t get it out of her head, although admittedly she seemed to be jumping from frying pan to frying pan, with only the occasional sessions of fire walking.

She dismissed her own thoughts with a snort, and turned her very real worries toward Jefferson. Admittedly she hadn’t known him all that long, but what she knew of him, the way he’d been out in the cabin, had been the absolute opposite of everything they’d shared - and his words, those cold, clipped, almost mocking words had broken her apart in the very worst way.

“I am under no obligation to make sense to you.”

Something had happened. It didn’t take a genius to figure that out. Between the time he dropped her off with Gold, and minutes ago, some threat; some horrible trauma must have forced him to change sides. She couldn’t… wouldn’t believe that everything they’d shared, everything he’d done for her to bring her here was a lie. No. This was the lie. He’d—

A sound at the door stopped her thoughts and she pushed herself up hurriedly to her feet. She looked around for a weapon - anything that she could use to get an advantage over whoever it was fumbling with the lock. The best she could find was a candlestick that someone had foolishly left on the mantle piece. She snatched it up and hurried to stand with her back flat against the wall, right next to the door.

The rattling stopped, and Belle held her breath, hardly daring to even move even a hair as the door began to open. Her lungs began to strain, to burn with the lack of oxygen. Just another moment…

The shadowy figure came through the door, and she finally snapped like a stretched elastic. Her arm went up, the candlestick like a club starting to smash downward. She knew she’d have only one chance. She growled to give the swing more force.

“Belle!”

At the sound of Gold’s voice, Belle snatched her hand away from the makeshift weapon, and Gold twisted aside so that - without her arm to guide it - it flew harmlessly wide.

“Oh my God!” she breathed and launched herself at him, her hands flying over him as though, through her touch, she could tell if he were hurt, if he were whole. He caught her hands, but not to stop her, as she thought, but to pull her closer, she realized in the second before his mouth took hers.

His lips parted hers, his tongue thirsting for the warmth of her mouth, and she opened to him, her knees trembling with the sudden rush of need. He deepened the kiss, taking her breath, making it his before returning her breath to her with a piece of him inside. She had to pull away.

“Rein,” his name came as a sigh of relief. “It’s all such a mess. Je—”

“We don’t have time,” he insisted, finding her hand with his. “We have to leave, and leave now.” Still he reached out to smooth her hair behind her ear, before shaking his head, it seemed, at himself. “It’s only a matter of time before they find her.”

“Find who?” Belle frowned in confusion and worry as she watched the corners of Gold’s eyes crinkle for barely a moment, as if some kind of pain had passed over him.

“West,” he said. “I killed her. We have to go.”

He began to turn away, ready to lead her out of the room and towards safety, but she caught his hand, and held it. Keeping him from leaving, until he turned back to her again.

“I love you,” she said, knowing it was hardly the time or the place for such a declaration - not that she supposed it was truly much of a confession.

“And I love you too,” he whispered as he wrapped her in his arms again, to hold her tightly; briefly before he pulled away again, and looking into her eyes added, “But there’ll be time for that. There’ll be time for everything.”

His voice held the slightest of catches, but before she could ask him about it he gripped her hand in his again, and with the other hand drew out a gun from inside his jacket.

“Stay close.” He warned her as they stepped out onto the landing. He could feel the tension that held her. It was shining from her the way a light pierces the darkness. It was as if there were some kind of current passing between their joined hands, but he knew he couldn’t allow himself to be subsumed by it. He had to get her out.

As if to remind him of that, the wall beside him splintered as the bullet fired by one of a trio of men that had appeared along the landing barely missed him. He raised his own weapon and fired a quick volley in return. He couldn’t allow them to reach a better position if he had any hope of getting past them, and right now they were all that stood between the two of them, and the hope of safety.

From somewhere outside, he could hear the sound of sirens coming closer, not just one, but many, and moments later the unmistakable sound of Emma’s voice led the chorus of shouts as law enforcement descended on the house like the wrath of God, and all hell - literally - broke loose.

“Police, put down your weapons!”

As if the house itself wanted to defy their orders, Duneach’s gathered enforcers came swarming from the woodwork like cockroaches, weapons in hand. The atmosphere became maelstrom of noise and lights and chaos.

“Come on,” Gold hissed, taking advantage of the distraction to move along the landing, keeping Belle tucked against him. A shot rang out, and ricocheted from the balcony rail, and he turned and loosed a round of his own.

Already he could feel the burn spreading from where West’s second syringe had pieced his skin - and what a fool was he to have assumed that she had only one. He knew her M.O. He should have expected it. A sudden spasm stole his breath, and he cursed under his breath, before tugging more urgently on Belle’s hand.

“Back stairs,” he gasped, and he could tell from the look on her face that Belle was not going to allow him to prevent her from asking.

“What’s wrong?”

He shook his head. “There isn’t time,” he said, and began to lead her closer to where they might escape. Time and again he ducked into alcoves, pushing Belle in first ahead of him, because after all, what did it matter if he was hit by one of the stray bullets that were heating the air around them with their deadly flight.

Another trio of men turned from a side corridor and came hurrying along the landing toward them. Gold couldn’t give them a chance to shoot, not at such close range. The first of them fell at a single shot from his gun, and he turned Belle, sheltering her with his body, though this time from the spray of blood.

The other two backed up and flattened themselves against the wall, and were behind plinths that held the shattered remains of decorative vases. Cursing that they had found cover, Gold pushed Belle back the way they’d come, hating that she covered her ears against the barrage of weapons fire.

Their retreat was short lived, Gold simply turned in to a room he knew ran the length of the landing with a door beyond where the men had sheltered - a library, he seemed to recall from when he saw the plans. Hoping he’d remembered correctly - it had been years since he had toyed with purchasing the building. Luck was on their side and the room way empty and dark. Sense would have had him shelter there, but the tightness and the pain burning in him now insisted he get Belle away.

Two quick retorts as he pulled open the far door cleared the way for them to thread their way toward the back staircase once more, one that led down to a small anteroom that opened into an inner courtyard, but at the top of the stairs, Gold’s steps faltered, and he gripped the balcony rail. He had no choice. It was either reach for support of fall to his knees as the cramping, and burning; the torture that was running through every part of him became too much for him to bear.

He pulled Belle with him, back toward a solid wall, beat his head, once, twice, a third time against the marble pillar beside a doorway, hoping the alternate pain would draw him back to some semblance of being able to go on. All it did was fill his vision with stars.

Belle caught his cheek in a gentle hand and stopped him from trying again, worry etched on her beautiful face. “Rein, please… what’s wrong? Tell me.”

“I can’t!” he gasped. How could he tell her the truth, and how could he lie? “I… can’t.”

He took a deeper breath, blew it out as he felt the insidious, creeping pain moving inexorably closer to center mass… The burn of the poison was still only in his limbs, in his extremities, but it wouldn’t be long before it reached his lungs, his other organs… reached his heart.

“Belle,” he breathed, “I’m… sorry,” He pushed her ahead of him, back toward the gap in the rail. “Go down these stairs, through the courtyard and around the side of the house to the front. The police… Emma will…” He grimaced as another spasm rippled through him. “Emma will keep you safe,” he said.

“I’m not leaving—”

“How sweet.”

Gold pushed away from the wall and lunged forward to put himself between the newcomer and Belle, pushing her behind him as Jefferson’s mocking voice cut off her words.

“Please, you have to—” Belle began, cutting herself off as Gold raised his weapon, as did the other man, pulling back the slide to put a round in the chamber. “I… don’t understand.”

“What’s to understand?” the man asked in the same, cold, dead voice as before. “You’re going nowhere, and he is dying.”

“What?” Belle exclaimed, “No!”

“Oh, I’m afraid so,” he answered, taking a step to the side, toward the stairs, Gold realized, to force the pair away from a path to safety. “Poison. No antidote, I’m afraid.”

Gold pushed Belle behind him again, deliberately moving counter to where they were being herded, and made one final appeal.

“Jefferson, please…”

#Rumbelle #drama #angst #implied noncon #implied torture #implied drug use #violence #gun violence #Eventual romance #eventual smut #first time #implied human trafficking #hurt/comfort #Emotional Hurt/Comfort #MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH #MCD #disparate pathways #i will always write jefferson

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taeyohonic · 3 years

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the trophy wife (m)

summary: the proposal doesn’t go as planned (established relationship, idol au, fluff and angst) pairing: min yoongi x fem!reader rating: explicit (18+) warnings (containing spoilers): swearing, robbery, pandemic, vomit, description of injuries and blood (very abstract), mentions of depression, insomina and periods, a hella lot ugly crying info: when i tell you that this is a super-duper fluffy piece, i’m not lying! it was 99% sweetness, so i added a little... angst (but like... only 10%) related work: the stalker | baby, what’s wrong? | favoritism (m) | the trophy wife words: 5.7k

“would you still love me if i became your trophy wife?”

yoongi snorts into his iphone, your grimace too adorable to be taken seriously.

“how bad are these papers?”, he asks. jungkook next to him is stealing curious glances at his hyung’s screen. to hear your voice so distressed makes him worry. you’re the best thing that ever happened to his member – your well-being comes right after his need for homemade kimchi.

“how… can they not know which products contain dairy? how yoongs?”, you vent eyeing the ungraded test in front of you.

“i ate… so much yogurt. the whole class did. we tested so much dairy products… like… so much. we drank all of the banana milk… how can they get this wrong?”, you continue. unbeknown to you, the maknae is now furrowing his brows at your words. wait a minute…

“noona, did you steal my banana milk last week?”, jungkook questions and moves closer to yoongi. before you can hide you see his big eyes joining your boyfriend on the screen.

“wow, jungkookie – your undercut looks so good. damn!”, you say. it’s not a total deflection; he does look extremely handsome after his haircut.

“noona, i thought i sleepwalked”, he whines, not caring for your compliment… right now.

“taehyung even made a meme out of it”, he complaints and you have the audacity to coo at him. yoongi tries to hide his smile, but he can see his reflection grinning on the screen.

“it was oppa’s idea!”

and now his smile freezes as jungkook moves his accusing glare to him. you don’t usually call yoongi by this name. and he’d be all too happy to shut you up in your shared bedroom. but now he and the boys are in the outskirts of seoul to film the newest music video, far away from you and your treacherous mouth.

“hyung?”, jungkook asks with the voice of a cheated wife ready to sign the divorce papers.

“it’s for the kids, maknae”, your boyfriend defends himself to which jungkook only huffs in irritation.

“there was a time when i was the kid – what happened? am i not cute enough anymore? noona? am i not the most adorable?”

his deer eyes stare at you – big, brown and full. you can’t help but to take a screenshot of these two – your rapper visibly done with his member and jungkook in the middle of a banana milk breakdown. you’ll have to frame this picture.

“you’re the most adorable thing there is, jungkookie”, you reassure him. yoongi just snorts when he sees the faintest flush on his bandmate’s face.

“that’s enough praise for him, baby. save it for your students.” there is no humor in the smile you send him. after a beat of silence in which you burry all your frustration deep inside the pits of your stomach, you try to change the subject.

“how is nature?” they’ve been in the woods for weeks, completely closed off from all the city drama. you’ve never seen jimin so excited to drive – while namjoon’s sour face reflected how much the latest failed drivers test bothered him.

“jin-hyung nearly died in the water today. it was epic”, your friend instead of your boyfriend answers and you have to shift a giggle at yoongi’s eyeroll.

“be gone, maknae”

rudely blunt – just how you liked your partner. jungkook just winks at you in a silent goodbye and gets up. he’s nearly out of the picture before his upper body shoves against the rapper. his nose is way too close to the screen and you’d be worried about his eyes – if you didn’t know how often the singer spends his nights in front of his computer.

“noona, you’ll replace the milk, right?”

“jungkook”, yoongi growls in responds. the boy is not acknowledging his colleague, so you give in and nod.

“of course, kookie. it’s already waiting in the fridge for you to come back”, you tell him. as soon as these words leave your mouth, the maknae is satisfied and gone.

“you don’t have to baby him that much, ____”, yoongi says while moving the phone closer to his face. you can see the dark circles under his eyes better now.

“what’s keeping you up at night, yoongs?”, you ask instead of answering his complaint. the rapper smiles faintly at the screen.

“you, baby, always you” yu snort and let yourself lie down on the couch – the papers can wait another day, or a lifetime.

“i wish”, you say truthfully. you’d sell one of your kidneys to relax with the boys far away from the pandemic madness. after having yoongi to yourself for two weeks non-stop, you are way too spoiled. even though your legs are deeply grateful for this recovery time, you miss the constant calm radiating off of your boyfriend.

“i’ll be back soon, baby”, he reassures you and draws lines across the screen. your cheeks look colorless and it worries him just as much as his lack of sleep bothers you.

“make it sooner”, you mutter and close your eyes when you hear his chuckle in responds.

“have you had dinner yet?”, yoongi asks but you don’t want to open your eyes, not ready to face his criticism.

“nah, i’ll wait till sungho gets here.” you don’t need your eyesight to feel his disapproval.

“that’s not very socially distance of you, ____.” yeah, no baby anymore. still, you remain shut off.

“he’s just a friend. one friend. one work friend. one work friend that needs help with the new school cloud. the online grading program is a pain in the ass.”

“and why do you have to do that at six on a friday night in our home?”, yoongi notices the tiniest of smiles on your lips as he mentions your shared home. he, too, loves your little flat with a pandora of memories.

“because i am a loner and don’t have anything better planed for the weekend and my boyfriend is camping in the woods and oh – there is a global pandemic”, you snort and open your eyes to watch your boyfriend’s tensed expression.

“if you’re a loner – what am i then? a stone?”, yoongi asks sarcastically.

“maybe a boulder”, you shoot back with a soft smile that melts his jealousy away… nearly.

“just… don’t let him touch my stuff”, yoongi orders. he’d trade his own maknae to be the one at the other side of your door when he hears a distant knocking sound.

“that’ll be him, yoongs”, you say and move off the couch with as much dignity as one can muster after a whole work week and no motivation left in the bones.

“promise to call me back when you’re in bed?”, your boyfriend pleads, reluctant to let you go. with him going on world tours this phone conversation isn’t your first and it won’t be the last. still, his small request fills you with yearning.

“of course”, you promise, eyes still on him as you open the door without a second thought.

a fist connects with your skull while your eyes widen at the sight of two ski-masked men. the pain is instantly blinding your senses and you start to scream with tears clouding your vision. you fall to the floor before they push their way inside your home. one of them, muscle clad with wide shoulders kicks you in the stomach just to move you out of their way. the other, smaller in statue, crushes your phone with his shoe, the cracked screen frozen with your boyfriend starring at you in horror.

namjoon will never forget the bone chilling scream waking him this evening from his nap. he’s never heard yoongi’s voice filled to the brim with pain. not even registering his movements, he tumbles into the living room where is friend is still yelling your name, his face a mask of panic.

“hyung, what’s wrong?”, namjoon asks as footsteps behind him signal the arrival of his bandmates.

yoongi’s hands shake as his eyes stay fixed on the screen of his form. the leader moves first, not able to watch his friend losing himself. when joon steps behind yoongi’s figure to calm him down, a cold shower travels through his body. the screen shows you lying on the floor with red dripping from your mouth. your eyes are closed, but namjoon notices the uneven rise and fall of your chest – you’re breathing.

“jin, call the police”, the leader orders without turning around. his hands try to pry the phone out of yoongi’s fingers, but they are white with pressure and unforgiving. his lungs are still screaming and namjoon’s heart breaks at the scene.

“hyung, - just… calm down”, he says, not quite believing in his own words. he wouldn’t calm down either in yoongi’s position.

“what am i reporting?”, seokjin asks, close enough that the question answers itself as soon as he peaks over yoongi’s shoulder.

“i’d like to report a break-in – there is a person, hurt. the address is-“

yoongi can’t hear his oldest colleague, the voice drowned by his worry for you. at first, he doesn’t register namjoon’s chest pressing behind his back, but then his body shudders when the fellow rapper hugs him from behind.

“hyung, we – sh – it’s gonna be okay. it’ll be okay, she’s okay… we… you have to calm down, yoongi”, namjoon sooths his friend of ten years and rocks them both from side to side.

“taehyung, call the building manager – there should be security in the foyer”, seokjin commands the young man who watches the scene in front of him passively. as soon as he hears his name though, the singer moves to grab his iphone with shaky fingers.

“look, hyung, she’s awake”, joon points out and yoongi shakes his head to move these stupid tears out of his vision. indeed, your eyes are open as you try to even your breathing. it looks like you are crying as well and yoongi has never felt this kind of searing pain before. to see the love of his life in tears and burglars destroying your home while he is in the middle of fucking nowhere, makes him sick. when he sees you trying to get up, only to drop back onto the floor, his stomach turns. yoongi vomits onto his lap and namjoon has to hold his friend upright as he loses consciousness.

you’ve never been this glad for the heavy painkillers your boyfriend has tugged away in the bathroom due to his immense shoulder problems. the icepack pressed to your forehead cools for body down; still, you are shaking with adrenaline as you watch the security guard pace in front of you.

“yes, sir, yes – no, of course sir, negative sir”, he looks at your shaking form and grimaces before answering. “minor injuries”, the guard holds his phone further away when his caller answers a few decibels too loud.

“the paramedics are on their way”, he responds, not daring to look you directly in the eye. after another game of “yes and no”, the security ends his call.

“how are you, ma’am?”, the man in uniform asks, but remains standing a few feet away. when he first got here after receiving a hectic message from his boss, you were crying on the floor – alone. his colleague is already checking the floors, while another is combing through the surveillance footage. it’s been five minutes and you still look like a ghost.

his instructions were crystal clear – don’t touch the subject. but his heart clenches when he sees your trembling form trying to calm yourself down.

before you can answer him, two paramedics arrive through the door. they zero in on the blood drying across your forehead. their hands press gently against your skin and ask you questions you try to answer. soon, they move you to a standing position, with your head wound dressed and your vitals checked.

“we’ll take you to the hospital, ma’am”, the older woman explains. with a few steps you are at the door – there, right on the threshold where your nightmare began half an hour ago, stands sungho, chinese take-out and laptop in hand. your fellow teacher looks at you with widened eyes.

“_____ - what the hell?”, he curses and nearly drops his food when you smile at him – your teeth unbeknown to you still tinted red.

“are you her partner?”, the paramedic asks.

“just a friend”, he answers, not letting you out of his sight.

“we have to get her to the hospital – will you accompany us?”, the medic questions and sungho nods. your little crowd moves to the elevator and the security guard closes your door with a soft click. the police will be here soon, he thinks as he watches your beaten figure step onto the elevator.

“this cannot be the way to do this, ___”, sungho exclaims while you are staring at the iv-drip connected to your arm in distress. you hate needles.

the hospital’s v.i.p room is normally reserved for celebrities, but they made an exception for you, the girlfriend of min yoongi. sejin’s hunched form outside the room might have played a role in that. bangtan’s manager arrived half an hour ago, worried and disheveled. his posture calmed when the doctors reassured him, you’d be okay. now, he’s waiting for seven idols in various stages of panic to arrive.

“it’s the way this works – just… do as i say, okay?”, you huff. there is a part of you not willing to let the last hours crash into you; not without your partner here. so, you’ve spent the last sixty minutes showing him how to use your new school cloud – the easy way, not the right one.

“but the course still doesn’t show in my settings”, he whines, and you roll your eyes while pushing cold pad thai in your mouth. the rich flavor appeases your hungry stomach and you swallow the take-out down in one breathe. songho is a godsend for bringing the ordered food with him to the hospital. it’s a much-needed distraction from the horror of your cracked rib and light concussion.

“you have to set the course to ‘official’ – it’s still private”, you explain with another mouthful of oily noodles slurring your speech.

sungho’s brows furrow in concentration when you hear heavy footsteps in the hall. the boys are there – and they are not slowing down.

before sejin can even try to greet the idols, yoongi pushes through the door – all six of them only a breath behind.

the second you see him, the tears start without your consent. yoongi looks crazy – his eyes gleam with insanity – as he sucks in the hospital air through his mask.

you’re here. you’re alive. you’re safe. you’re here. he’s here. you are both here. his thoughts are running in circles – not ready to slow down, not ready to expand.

your boyfriend resembles a statue; just standing in front of the hospital bed. his face screams for help and it breaks you as the first cry leaves your throat. in a flash yoongi is moving to you, bumping into a shocked sungho. his finger brush against your wet cheeks like you’d break under his touch, while your body collapses.

“baby”, he whispers – the first word his members have heard since he regained consciousness.

“yoongs”, you answer and throw your arms around his neck. the smell of vomit and sweat makes your nose crunch up, but your boyfriend hugs it all away. his forearms rest on each side of your head – supporting his weight – as he lets you hold on to him, the boyfriend who was playing idol life in the woods instead of being at home with his girlfriend. even through his mask he can breathe in your unique smell, clouded by disinfectant.

“noona”, the youngest whimpers from the doorway. jungkook is silently crying, his mask discolored from the tears. every member looks at you with sorrow, the younger ones visibly not as professional at keeping their emotions together. namjoon looks like he’s aged a decade, but there is a small smile pressing his eyes together behind his mask. you try to reciprocate his smile, but yoongi’s head his pressing against your cheeks with vigor.

“why don’t we give them some space?”, sejin says to which your coworker nods instantly. he’s your friend for sure – but this is a level of intimacy he’s not willing to share with you.

the members need more convincing as hoseok tries to gently pull jungkook back. the maknae vehemently shakes his head, not ready to leave you and yoongi alone.

“we’ll wait right outside, kookie”, seokjin coax him out of the room. he’s still reluctant so go, but jimin’s small body pushes against his back. soon, namjoon closes the door, leaving you alone.

your tears won’t stop and you try to move closer to your boyfriend – you want to feel him all around you. without words yoongi understands your need and presses his body down on yours. there is a sharp pain when his stomach meets your fractured rib.

“ah”, you breathe, hurting. yoongi extracts himself from you in a flash; every fiber of his being furious at your injury.

“baby”, he calls out as his fingers ghost across your ribcage.

“it’ll… it’ll heal soon”, you say timidly.

“how could this happen, baby?”, he asks, still more interested in your upper body than your eyes.

“i-i i should-d have che-checked the door before, ah before answering”, you whimper, ready to face the blame.

with yoongi’s lifestyle comes a certain level of danger. you’ve been trained to be more cautious with everyday things like grocery shopping, inviting new friends over, answering the door without checking the cam.

“no, no, no, no – baby – no…”, he hushes you. “they should have never been able to pass the foyer, nor should they have been able to move to the penthouse level.”

“i-i was so scared”, you admit, linking your fingers with his and pressing them close to your still beating heart.

“i know, baby, me too”, yoongi soothes you and flexes his fingertips against your warm skin.

“i’ve never felt this worthless… you got hurt… right in front of me… and i … i couldn’t do anything.” his voice shakes with emotions and slowly his stare moves to your bruised face. the madness has nearly died in his eyes – but there is still so much pain hidden behind his brown iris.

“i- i could have lost you”, he whispers darkly, speaking a truth into reality he is not ready to face. your crying has stopped now that the both of you are calmer and connected.

“nah, never, remember?”, you say with some form of humor behind your words. “i’m your trophy wife. trophy wives don’t die. first, they’d kill their rich husband”, you remind your boyfriend of your conversation half a lifetime ago.

“it’d be an honor getting murdered by you, baby.” his mask is gone in a flash and then you feel the warmth of his lips against your temple. “just let me finish my third mixtape first.”

“don’t move, noona”, jungkook pleads as the warm sunlight irritates your skin. the fresh air is caressing your body while the youngest tries to finish his painting. trees surround the both of you, resting on a soft picnic blanket. it’s the first time since your release from the hospital that yoongi has left you out of his sight. granted, you’re still not totally alone with the strongest bangtan member watching over you like a hawk. but it’s definitely a much-needed break from yoongi’s fretting.

after nearly throwing a tantrum in front of his manager und some staff members who wanted to continue the filming of their new “in the soop” show, all the members knew they’d have to handle their rapper with care. leaving you alone wasn’t an option, so taehyung and seokjin packed your suitcase with essentials and after your doctors determined you ready to rest at home, all eight of you moved back to the chill vacation home in the middle of nowhere.

the last few days have been difficult – the filming staff getting more and more irritated because the members flocked around you 24/7. sejin had to come up with a different schedule allowing every bandmate time to reconnect with you as well as time to do their work. only yoongi was allowed to not leave your side most of the day – him working on the new music being the cover for his absence.

but after days of your boyfriend breathing down your neck, you’ve had enough. so, now yoongi is out on the water with seokjin fishing, while you’re spending time with jungkook.

“when did the police say they are coming?”, you ask the painter. his nose is crunched in concentration as he tries to outline your hipbone.

“they should be here before lunch – if your boyfriend even manages to catch some lunch”, he answers. you snort, messing up his grasp of your proportions.

“i do have faith in seokjin’s ability.” jungkook chuckles but keeps his eyes on your drawing. you look so delicate, so soft, he can’t believe they nearly lost you.

“i got robbed – i didn’t die, kookie”, you read his mind as his eyes darken.

“you got hurt”, he responds through clenched teeth.

“and they’ll pay for that”, you vow. the police had called this morning with the news of your robbers being captured during another crime. you’re still not sure how the officers can be so sure they’re the same criminals, but you’re eager to close this chapter with your statement later that day.

your painting session gets interrupted by namjoon. “the detectives are already here, ____.”

jungkook is by your side in a flash and together with the leader the both of them help you up. the rib is healing and harsh movements still hurt. yoongi had a near meltdown when you tried to ride him yesterday morning only to topple over in pain.

“yoongi and jin don’t have a signal out in the water – but they won’t be long”, namjoon explains and guides you indoors to meet the two officers.

“ms. ______, a pleasure to meet you”, the older policeman says in greeting. the younger one only shifts uncomfortable when he sees you flanked by two famous idols.

“thanks for coming all this way”, you respond and bow slowly, not to put extra pressure on your rib.

“is there somewhere we could talk – uhm- privately?”, the old man asks and you show them to one of the office rooms in the back. jungkook reluctantly leaves your side and joon only squeezes your hand in passing.

“just holler when you need us, _____”, he says before ordering the maknae to clean the art supplies.

with both officers sitting across from you, you nervously fiddle in your chair.

“the two intruders were caught this morning while pawning off their haul”, the younger policeman states and shows you a surveillance picture of two familiar men. their figures alone invoke iced fear in your heart, and you push the picture out of your sight. after a moment of silence, you collect yourself enough to absorb the information.

“what did they steal? i – i didn’t report anything missing, sir”, you question. sure, they trashed the painting yoongi brought for you during your last vacation in italy. and some cloths were thrown across the bedroom – but there was nothing stolen. you even signed your statement last week before leaving for the woods.

the officers look at you like you’ve grown a second head.

“miss, you reported the item missing days ago. there is even a harsh voicemail left with your fiancé demanding a swift investigation.” you shake your head at their words – no, you didn’t.

“which item?”, you ask the men with narrowed eyes. you’d been off the pain meds for days now. but to call yoongi your fiancé? clearly, they’d switched up cases. the older officer opens his briefcase to retrieve a plastic bag with a… ring in it.

“in my days, my wife would have never forgotten about her engagement ring”, the man snickers as you watch the cold metal in front of you. it’s beautiful – it’s so yoongi, you wouldn’t be surprised if he himself crafted the asymmetric diamond set on roughened silver.

you’d dreamed of this moment for over a year – to lay eyes on the ring cementing your future in stone – or diamonds.

never would you have imagined it to be this tainted with two officers starring you down and the jewelry wrapped carelessly in plastic – a piece of evidence – while your boyfriend is fishing with kim seokjin.

“uhm”, you hesitate as emotions swirl around your brain. he was going to propose? to you?

“i had half a panic attack carrying it around with me the whole day – that thing could pay off all my debt, as well as my kid’s college fees”, the officer jokes, still not recognizing your surprise as genuine.

“uhm”, you try again to form words.

“we’ve all the papers here for you to sign; after that we’ll be ready to get out of your hair… for now”, the youngest states and moves different documents across the table. they lie next to yoongi’s engagement ring – your engagement ring.

“uhm”

giving up on forming a coherent sentence, you move along and sign your name on the different protocols. the paper from your insurance company makes your heart still – reading all the zeros on the price of your ring.

this… is by far the worst engagement set up you’ve ever heard of. your hands shack and your signature looks just terrible, but it’s enough for the two detectives. they still don’t seem to find your reaction odd as they collect their stuff and bid you fare well. like a zombie you get up and follow them to the front door, your ring clutched between your fingertips.

jungkook and jimin are waiting for you next to the foyer and jump at the sight of your pale face.

“everything alright?”, jimin asks and places a protective hand on your back. your slow nod does not convince them and their eyes sour at the policemen.

while the younger officer takes a step back, the oldest just chuckles at your idol friends.

“all is well, kids”, he sooths them. then both bow to you and you can only muster an awkward smile, the jewelry heavy in your hand.

“happy wedding planning, ms. ____”, he winks at you before they leave. the soft click of the closing door is the only sound in the hallway. you’re not even sure you’re breathing.

after a beat of silence you flinch at the sound of jimin’s high-pitched squeal.

“weeeedding”, he asks, way too loud and way too joyful. the mochi-cheeked idol excitedly jumps up and down, not really caring that you remain silent.

jungkook on the other hand looks … really upset. “you told the police but not me?”, he whispers betrayed.

you could cry as you feel the headache from your concussion clouding your mind. this is… too much.

“uhm”, you’ve decided to stick with your running-gag answer and push both idols out of your way.

your feet carry you out of the house, through the terrace door and before you know it, you’re running across the green gras. the smell of the lake invades your nose while you search for you boyfriend. yoongi’s boat is still on the water and you spot both men resting against each other with their rods, ready to catch your lunch. sunshine shimmers on the lake’s surface as you run onto the dock. your bare feet press against the wood while your hair rushes around you – the wind breezing through the unkempt strands.

“is… is that _____, yoongi?”, seokjin asks his fishing buddy who’s more focused watching the water for prey than his surroundings.

“huh?”, he hums, not really listening to his friend.

“i- i think your girlfriend wants to talk to you, yoongi”, the old singer says hesitantly as he sees you jumping up and down on the wooden dock. this can’t be good for your health.

swiftly, the rapper turns to the spot seokjin is pointing at. and there you stand – beautiful and barefoot, dressed in his t-shirt and some old leggings. your hair is a mess and the sun dances across your skin like the tiniest firework.

“MIN YOONGI”, you shout at the top of your lungs. your boyfriend flinches hearing your loud voice across the water.

“she sounds angry”, seokjin whispers.

“YOU FOOL”, you continue to yell and see seokjin’s shoulders shake with silent laughter.

“oh, i hope the crew gets this on tape”, he says with glee while yoongi really, truly tries to find a reason for your anger. he’s left you alone today, at your request. maybe you didn’t really want him to go? was it a test to see how much he wanted to stay with you? did he fail?

“I GOT YOUR RING!”, you shout and flash the evidence bag high in the air.

immediately, the rapper shoots up from his sitting position, rocking the boat dangerously form side to side.

“yah, yoongi, what the hell?”, seokjin swears but your boyfriend’s eyes rest on you, holding your engagement ring in a plastic bag. there is no air in his lungs – he’s been thinking about this moment for the last two years. he dreamed of your joyful tears, how soft your hands would feel while pushing the silver banner on your finger.

and now… he’s an ocean away from you holding on to the jewelry that got you hurt weeks ago.

“DO YOU WANT TO ASK ME SOMETHING, MIN YOONGI?”, you scream and your boyfriend’s eyes widen when they see the smile on your lips; do you – do you find this funny?

without thinking, he takes a step forward.

You can only watch seokjin’s helpless grimace as yoongi brings the boat out of balance. both idols topple over and splash into the cold sea.

the icy water doesn’t bother the rapper as he pushes to the surface. the sun shines high up while he speeds to the dock. you’ve never seen your boyfriend this determent – his laps forceful and quick, leaving a still shocked seokjin behind.

your fingers shake as you watch him come closer and closer to you. in mere moments he’s close enough for you to hear his heavy breathing.

yoongi heaves himself out of the cold, his shoulder screaming in pain, and then he is dripping in front of you. your boyfriend looks like a wet dog, the black hair plastered to his forehead as he steps forward. you can smell the sea salt across his drenched clothes.

the engagement ring screams from the bag to be acknowledged and yoongi is just… staring at you deeply.

“i had it all planned”, he whispers wringing his sweater. the gush of water drops on the deck, but the idol only looks at you. “weeks ago.” his fingers wrap around your writs, a silent plea to give the ring to its rightful owner – for now.

“i wanted to take you to the restaurant where we had our first date”, he admits and opens the bag. your first date had been a disaster – you’re still vividly remembering the food poisoning.

“then all the restaurants closed down; we were both so stressed… and… life went on”, yoongi continues as the ring dances between his fingertips. it looks like art without the plastic cheapening its presence.

“i... wanted it to be perfect.” his whispered words fall to the floor as he kneels in front of you. warmth is coloring your face, seeing your idol submitting to you.

“baby… you know how much i love you… how much you inspire me every day to become the best version of myself”, yoongi’s voice cracks against his words and you can’t help the softest coo from leaving your lips.

“i promise i’ll make you the best trophy wife of south korea.”

you snort as you hear boyish snicker from behind you at yoongi’s joke.

“will you spend the rest of my life with this ring on your hand?”, he asks and without waiting for an answer, he pushes the silver band on your finger. it fits perfectly.

“am i not supposed to agree first?”, you respond as your eyes stay on your future husband.

“oh baby, you agreed the moment you ate my burned pasta.” yoongi gets up and pushes a lose strand of hair behind your ears.

“you agreed the moment you moved in with me, a struggling insomniac.” his hands cradle your face, framing the expression of love between his palms.

“you agreed the moment you let me change your tampon because you were too drunk to move.” he gives you airy butterfly kisses.

“you agreed the moment you didn’t kill me for stealing your favorite ice cream from the freezer.”

“that actually was a close call”, you chime in, only to hear his soft chuckle.

“you agreed all those nights staying with holly in our shared bed while i traveled across the globe.”

a kiss is planted on the fresh scar across your temple. “you agreed all these moments where my depression was too much, where i was trapped in my own misery.”

a line of kisses travels to your mouth. mere millimeters from your lips he stills. “you do, right?”

under all the layers of love, confidence and familiarity, there is still a shy boy unsure of his worth. your smile is infused with giddiness as you close the gap, pressing your lips together in the softest kiss.

“i do”, you whisper in his mouth, only to meet his tongue with your own in a joyful dance. the boys around you are cheering, while the soft waves of the lake clash against the dock. you’re in pure bliss, kissing your wet fiancé fiercely.

and then you hear a loud thud, a wet slash on the wood. surprised, you both jump away a step – only to see a heaving seokjin lying flat on the deck, chest rising at a fast pace.

“i near- i nearly died for th-this engagement, ____. if – if i’m am not the be-best man, i’ll… will cast a spell on all- all yo-ur children.”

____

ah, this fic is crazy and totally not what i imagined it to become. i hope you enjoyed the read! there is only one chapter left (the stalker) – who’s excited for it? i hope you are doing well! to you, your family and/or loved ones i wish only the most festive time this week! love, dana

#btswriterscollective #bangtanuniversity #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #bts x reader #bts established relationship #yoongi idol au #bts idol au #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst #min yoongi

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marchioness-caprina · 3 years

Text

Confessions

Pairings : Reader x Bakugou

Writing Style : 1st Person and 3rd Person

Warning : A Lot of Swearing

Word Count : 3639

____________________

Y/n's POV

" I Just don't Know what To do Izuku! You're Telling Me He Likes me but he barely even takes a glance at me! The bad thing is that whenever I try approaching him... Or even expressing my Love for him... He screams bloody murder and roasts me like there's no tomorrow! " I complained as I buried my face within my palms .

I was on the verge of tears simply because of a shitty crush. I felt Izuku's Hand caress my head as He stared down at me with a sympathetic gaze.

" There, There y/n. Let it all out " He muttered making me want to cry even more but I wasn't done venting.

" I've been chasing him ever since we were in middle school! Ironic how I give nothing but love but receive pain instead... I think... I should finally Give up" I whispered the last part and Izuku's movements were put in a halt.

" Really? After everything you've been doing for him? You'll just give up?! That's not you y/n! You're the type of person who fights with everything you've got without losing hope! And that's pretty admirable! I may not be as close with Kaachan as I was before but I know for a fact that he likes you too and is just too... Errr... Umm... How do I say this? Uhh He just has a really big Ego to admit it " He tried lifting my spirit up but I was tired. My heart was tired and I just wanted to... Give up or maybe Just Rest for a couple of weeks.

" Yeah? Well you think pretty Highly of Me Izuku.... But I'm weak too you know and there are battles I must quit.... I'll just try to recollect myself and rest for a few weeks Or so, I'll have to set my Priorities straight too... Ya know... If you get what I mean and all " I chuckled trying to mask the pain and it was futile. Izuku can read me like an open book.

He gave me a solemn look before nodding. This little cinnamon roll is just too kind and understanding, he even accompanied me to this very cafe we were in when he saw me looking down coming out of the Dorms.

" I get it, People need to cool off from time to time " He gave me a small smile and I returned it with a grin.

" Hey! You know there's this Carnival That was set up last week and it's their last day today! I had two tickets and tried inviting Katsuki.... I mean Bakugou Yesterday and he almost blew these tickets away.... It would be a waste if we don't use it so why don't we start my Personal Growth and healing by having Fun!? " I exclaimed and Izuku looked genuinely as excited as me.

" Really!? Sure! I'd like to go! It's been awhile since I actually had fun because of all the Pressure and Stress! " He smiled and I grabbed his hand immediately and dragged him out of the cafe and Off to The carnival we Go!.

_________________

" Man! And Don't even get me started on the Food there! Although the Almight Mascot looked Really Weird it was still fun! " I Beamed as Izuku opened the front door.

" Yeah! And the Fireworks were awesome Too! I'm really glad we hung out today! " He bashfully stated as we simultaneously stepped inside .

" And Where have you two gone to? Maybe you shouldn't have came back if you'd show up in the middle of the damn night " Aizawa sensei suddenly appeared out of nowhere making me and Izuku flinch in shock.

" W-why... Hello there sensei " Midoriya stuttered fear ridden as he glanced down at me.

' Shit we're screwed '

" Guys! I believe it was extremely irresponsible to be gone without a word and come back at an unearthly hour! You could have atleast sent one of us a message or even answered Our calls! So we wouldn't be this anxious of your arrival! " Iida Sped walked towards me and Izuku and that's when we noticed that everyone was still up and gathered in the common room.

" We were so worried about you guys! We thought a villain took you or something! "

" Not cool dude, Aizawa Sensei almost flipped and called out a search team to look for you guys "

" You could have told us before you left "

Came the concerned comments of our classmates. It made my heart swell up with Joy and at the same time Guilt.

" We're so Sorry! " Me and Izuku yelled in Sync bowing our heads.

" It was my fault! I forgot my phone in my room! And Izuku was just accompanying me to a small cafe in town... And I invited him to go have fun at the carnival... To Distress.... I didn't think you guys would be this worried but thank you for worrying about us! " I yelled an apology and Izuku was fast to take the blame.

" No it's my fault! I turned off my phone and left without informing anyone and without thinking of the consequences! Neither me and y/n were aware of the time. We won't do it again! We're sorry guys" Izuku frowned as I placed my hand on his shoulder.

With a sigh Aizawa gave us a stern look scratching the back of his head before speaking.

" Look, this better not happen again or else you two will be in serious trouble. You're lucky tomorrow's a Sunday so No school . Just make sure to say something next time and not disappear without a trace "

" Yes sensei! " Izuku answered while I nodded my head vigorously.

As Aizawa continued his Lecture my eyes drifted towards the crowd of my classmates and what surprised me was that Bakugou was Present. He was awake. Did he actually give a fuck?... No he's probably dragged into this by Kaminari or Kirishima.

After a long 30 minutes of sermon Aizawa sensei finally let us go.

In the end everyone returned to their rooms and Before I went to mine I gave Izuku a Hug as a ' Thank you for being there for me ' and I was unaware of a pair of crimson red eyes staring at us.

_____________

The Next Day

_____________

I heard knocking on my door which forced me to wake up and open the door and to my surprise it was Izuku and Uraraka.

" Morning Guys.... What brings you here? " I yawned blinking my eyes as the two chuckled at my messy appearance.

Bed hair, oversized t shirt and drool on the corner of my lips.

" We came here to invite you for breakfast! Everyone is gathered in the common room! You're a pretty heavy sleeper! Jirou and Momo tried waking you up earlier and there was no answer " Uraraka explained but still, sleep was very much alive in my system and I just gave a lazy nod before hanging again.

" Looks like she's still Tired Uraraka, you go on ahead we'll catch up with you" Izuku offered and Uraraka was fast to jolt away a from us.

" Ok! But you better not let her go back to sleep Deku! Everyone's counting on you to wake her up! " Uraraka yelled as she headed downstairs.

I was swaying back and forth with my eyes half lidded and I had a sudden urge to sleep on the floor.

" Still sleepy? " Izuku asked and fortunately I was still awake enough to give him a nod.

" Wanna get on my back? I'll carry you down stairs so you'll have time to rest " He offered while turning his back against me and bending down.

Without hesitation I fell on his back and subconsciously wrapped my arms around his neck and my head resting on his back.

I felt his scarred hand grip my thighs and he lifted me off the ground and started walking.

Honestly I didn't know how long it took him to get to the common room but I was happy I had a really nice friend to carry me like this.

" Wow, Midoriya when we told you to get Y/n we didn't know you'd actually ' Get ' Her " The familiar Voice of Kaminari commented and I was thankfully awake or more like I forced myself to be awake.

I peeked my eyes at him and stuck my tongue out.

" Yeah you're just jealous cause Izuku is Carrying me " I retorted and Izuku's chest vibrated in a small chuckle.

" You two a Thing Now or something? " Mina grinned pointing at us with her chopsticks.

" No Mina we're not a Thing. We're People " I countered and she gave a light laugh.

" Smart move y/n. Smart move "

" Do you want me to put you down now? " Izuku asked as he looked back at me and I shook my head.

" No, I like being carried by you. You're really warm " I smirked and the poor boy's face overheated with embarrassment.

" Oo~ are you sure you two aren't a Thing? " Uraraka Teased giving me and Izuku a suggestive wink.

" So you're dumping Bakugou for Midoriya or something? " Kaminari crackled with laughter and the whole room fell into a cold silence.

As if everyone knew something I should be aware of.

" Me and Bakugou aren't Dating in the first place, I don't think we'll ever be together too " I confidently stated and I could hear gasps and the shock faces of my classmates didn't go unnoticed.

" S-She called him Bakugou and Not Katsuki! " Mineta Yelled in panic as he stared at me with wide eyes.

Suddenly a loud bang was heard from one of the tables. Specifically the Table Bakugou was on.

He had slammed his hand on the table along with his chopsticks and he was seething with so much anger and... Are my eyes lying? Is that jealousy!?.

" I ain't fucking hungry! " He yelled and stood up violently that the chair fell off.

He started stomping his way towards us. I was never afraid of Him.... Well not until Now atleast.

" Deku " He growled lowly and I could feel Izuku tremble.

Immediately, I got down from his back and when Katsuki was close enough I stepped infront of Izuku.

" Stay Back Bitch! " He hissed and I stood my ground.

" No you Stay back Asshole! What is your problem!? Why don't you mind your own fucking Business! " I snapped harshly poked his Chest with each word I uttered.

He glared at me tiny sparks popping on his palms.

What he said next was something I have never expected him to say.

" You are My goddamn Business You Little Shit! Hanging around with Deku the whole Night making me worry about your shitty ass! And now you're clinging onto him like a stupid fucking Koala! Can't you see how jealous I am!? Can't you drill it in your pretty little head that you're Fucking Mine! " His voice rang through every corner of the common room.

Everyone was silent for a few seconds. My eyes were wide and full of disbelief.

" Finally, Took Him a long time to actually confess... It was kinda getting painful to watch " Kaminari mumbled but it was loud enough for me to hear.

" Dude, it was so manly confessing to her infront of everyone. Bakugou is a true man " Came another comment from one of my classmates, Kirishima.

Katsuki was glaring at me his Chest rising and falling at a visible way clearly indicating how aggravated he was.

His crimson eyes held a lot of swirling emotions, Jealousy, Anger, Betrayal and Possessiveness.

" ..... Excuse you!? " I managed to voice out and he tried grabbing me but I was quick to evade his hand.

" No! And Just when I finally decided to give up on you. You decide to throw all this bullshit infront of me Bakugou Fucking Katsuki! No you listen here you Egotistical Haughty Son of a Bitch! I suffered through every shitty insult and pain you threw my way because I loved you and when I'm at my limit and ready to go you give me this!? all you gave me was pain and honestly I'm not a masochistic bitch to accept it with open arms how but my middle finger huh?!. Damn you and your very confusing and petty way of claiming me! That is not happening! You hear me!? So suck it up Bakuhoe and Go Fuck yourself " I actually felt proud of myself but that was the first time I actually raised my voice or even cursed infront of everyone in the first place so their dumbfounded expression didn't really surprised me.

" Wow.... Your girl's as good at Cursing as you are Bakugou " Sero was the first to comment and that pissed me off.

" I'm not his 'Girl' " I emphasized the girl part with a hint of mockery.

" Yet " Bakugou added making me glare at him.

" Fuck you " I grumbled turning around to walk away in victory thinking I had won the fight.

But before I could even take one step forward I was slung over Bakugou's Shoulder hanging upside down.

" Put me down you Fucking Asshole! " I yelled as he carried me away from the common room.

" Hey! " I grab hold of his blonde hair which was surprisingly soft and gave it a harsh tug which earned me a groan from him.

" Bitch! " He yelled slapping my butt making me gasp.

" I should get you mad more often, That was hot " He commented as if he hadn't just slapped my butt.

The nerve of this fucker.

" Put me down!" I growled as he proceeded to carry me upstairs.

" Now don't think I'm done with you just yet. I have to get my sweet revenge because you hung out with Fucking Deku and let him touch you! " He barked as I felt him tighten his hold on my fleshy thigh.

I tried everything I could, from squirming to kicking to punching his back but the guy is a Fucking wall and didn't even budge.

" Stop it Bitch! Save your energy for later. You're gonna need it " He muttered making me react violently. Until he had enough of it and slammed my back to the nearest wall with his strong muscular arms trapping me I'm between with his body a bit too close to mine.

His face was inches away and I visibly gulped turning my face to the side as his breathe fanned my cheek.

" Bakugou I'm warning you. I'm gonna do something YOU'RE gonna regret if you don't let me go " I had managed to say without stuttering and I mentally Pat myself on the back for my strong tone.

" Fuck it y/n. You really think I'd let you get away after Saying all that shit and defending Deku!? After you hopped onto his back like you're HIS!? Well you're Fucking Mine! You got that!? " He yelled making me groan. His voice was too loud and I think my ears are gonna bleed.

" You asked for it! " I yelled back as I prepared to kick him where the sun don't shine but I didn't even get to raise my leg halfway when he pulled me down by my leg and pressed his body against mine even more.

Right now I had no way of moving with my leg trapped against his thighs holding me in place.

" Oh? Was that your Great Fucking Move? Well it's pretty pathetic so kick and scream all you want. I'm claiming you right now " Using his hand he raked my locks down and gripped onto my hair roughly forcing me to face him and his lips had already connected with mine.

His kiss was rough, dominating with a tinge of passion and jealousy. Moving his lips at a better angle his other hand trailed down to squeeze my hips.

I ressisted. I really did but after awhile of him kissing me I melted. My hands wrapping themselves around his neck my chest squeezed with his toned chest. Both of his hands resting on my waist as I stood on my tippy toes kissing him back with the same intensity.

Opening my mouth to give him access he didn't waste a second to slip his tongue inside my claiming his new domain. His tongue wrestled with my own and soon gaining dominance as he continued the rough kiss.

It was a very angry kiss with lots of jealousy coming from him.

When we finally pulled away breathless and panting his intense crimson orbs pierced mine a smug smirk slowly rigging on the corners of his mouth.

" Still refusing me after that? After you willingly kissed me back? After clinging onto me for dear life? " He was either mocking me or teasing me but either way it pissed me off.

" Katsuki I'm gonna rip your throat off if you keep that up " I glared at him but I guess actions spoke louder than words because my neck was still wrapped around his neck and my body still pressed against his.

" Yeah right and a moment ago you called me Bakugou now look who's calling me Katsuki again " He sneered and I tried retreating my hand away from his neck to push him away but he beat me to it; grabbing my arms and using it as leverage to pull me closer towards him.

" I know I did some pretty fucked up shit. I'm not the best person at expressing these shitty feelings I have for you but I will make it up to you, I'm s-soow.... S-sooo.... Rrr... Eeyyyy " The way he forced out a ' I'm sorry ' got me laughing so hard .

He didn't appreciate that because his cheeks were tinted red form embarrassment and anger.

" You Fucking bitch! Don't laugh at me! I'm trying! " He yelled as I continued laughing.

Yeah, seeing him like that was new and hilarious.

My laughter was cut off when I felt his warm lips press a kiss on my cheek.

He looked to his side his eyes avoiding mine.

" Don't Fucking laugh cause I mean it though.... I'll make it up to you.... " He muttered the faint red color of his cheeks still present.

A smile formed on my lips as I stared at him fondly. A small pinkish tint coating my own cheeks but me being me I ruined the moment with a bitchy remark.

" Yeah why don't you practice saying Sorry first while not sounding like you were about to take the biggest shit of your life " I retorted and because of that I began laughing once again and he was raging. Screaming at me to stop laughing but I couldn't help it. He did deserve it after all.

I'm pretty sure I'll get more of my little revenge in the future....

________

Bonus :

" Deku.... I know you care about those two and You're a hardcore shipper but... What you did though... Was it on purpose? " Uraraka asked taking another bite of her pancakes as they listened to the two bicker.

" Who knows " Izuku answered with a contented smile on his face.

" Huh... You're a bit suicidal for doing that but I respect you man. Bakugou finally confessed it was getting pretty sad to watch him act all tough and pretending he doesn't like her " Sero chuckled.

" Hopefully those two will stay strong from now on... " Momo took a sip of her tea and everyone silently agreed with her.

" So.... Do you think they're Fucking? " Mineta suddenly brought up the topic which caused Tsu to slap him with her Tongue.

" Mineta-kun you're being a pervert again" Tsu muttered staring at the purple headed boy.

" Hahahahha! " Denki and Mina suddenly came down stairs holding a camera.

" You guys wanna see what they were doing upstairs? " Denki asked while laughing.

" Dude, invading other people's privacy is Not manly " Kirishima stated bit he couldn't help but be curious.

" .... What happened though? " Kirishima asked taking a peek at the camera.

" Oh you know, They kissed and Bakugou tried saying sorry but it was an epic fail! " Mina laughed and on cue Y/n came running down with an in raged Bakugou trailing hot on her tail.

" Come Back here! " Bakugou barked trying to grab hold of the girl.

" I was being honest when I said you need practice in saying sorry! You look like you're about to shit Bricks! " She yelled merely avoiding the hand of Bakugou that was centimeters away from holding her.

" Drama and Breakfast in the morning sure is pretty Good. But Drama, Breakfast and Comedy in the Morning is The best! " Denki chuckled watching the two interact.

" Oh boy... I have a feeling everything is going to be a lot more louder here than usual " Izuku sighed .

#bnha x reader #bnha imagine #Bakugou x Reader #Katsuki Bakugou #Katsuki Bakugou x Reader #Jealousy #Romance #Bnha #Slight Midoriya x Reader #Boku no Hero Academia #My Hero Academia #Oneshot #BNHA Oneshot

186 notes · View notes

aggressive-positivity-network · 3 years

Note

How do you think the mercs would react to engineer getting really tired and doing something absolutely idiotic? Like Engie don't lick the soap it won't taste good sweetie (totally not inspired by the fact ive done this same thing while exhausted)

Also your hcs are great!! They all seem super thought out and they're a thrill to read! Your writing is... Ok no word seems sufficient to describe it! It just too good!

Askers like you make my day! Thank you so much! Sorry if this is a little short, but I’m still working on the relationship ones, which take forever to write.

Scout:

“Hey, uh, Engie...buddy...you good?”

“Listen, I’m the only merc around here that does stupid stuff like that...you’re one of the smart guys, remember?”

Pretends to yawn so that Engie will feel more tired and go to bed faster.

When that doesn’t work - Engie doesn’t pay much attention to his surroundings when he’s working - he asks Sniper for help.

Sniper:

“Aw, bloody ‘ell, ‘as he gone into one of his fits again?”

‘Fits’ meaning bouts of creative invention that can last anywhere from several hours to a couple weeks.

Sniper waves a hand in front of Engie’s face, but to no avail.

“Nah, mate, he’s outta this world. All off in his own universe. There’s nothin’ that can bring him out now.”

Suddenly Medic walks by, and the pair practically pull him in to help.

Medic:

“Hm...zhere’s only vun thing that can avaken zhis building beauty!”

Medic wraps his arms around Engineer’s neck. No response.

Head on the shoulder. Nothing.

Chin resting on top of head. Nope.

Tugging on his collar. Still nada.

Finally, Medic uses his secret weapon: the cheek peck.

Engie still doesn’t look up - in fact, Medic has to pull his arm away from almost putting his hand on a sparking wire, something that an alert Engie would never do.

“Ach! Engie! Dummkopf! Vhat are you doing?!”

Suddenly, Spy peeks his head in as he walks by, but Medic grabs him by the tie.

“I need zhis vorktable for my experiment, and ve have all tried our luck. Any bright ideas?”

Spy:

“Why must I always find myself in these situations? Surrounded by idiots, waiting for my assistance.”

A murmur of complaints all around, but no one contradicts him. They still need a pair of fresh eyes.

Spy snaps in front of Engie’s face.

“Laborer? Do you mind coming down to earth so the good doctor can commit his nightly atrocities?”

No answer. Not even a look.

Spy thumps Engineer’s hat several times. Then knocks. Then takes it off completely. Still no reaction.

Spy has been getting increasingly more frustrated, as he has been waiting to unwind all week, and this is keeping him from a glass of scotch and a good magazine.

“Did your Texan weed of a mother never teach you manners? Or did she not know any herself? She most likely had yet to learn her alphabet, much less any sort of etiquette.”

Scout cringed, Sniper pulled his hat over his eyes, and even Medic put a hand on his bonesaw. You never talked about Engineer’s mom. Scout almost got a wrench through his forehead when he walked into Engie’s workshop in the middle of a Yo Mama joke.

This happened to be an exception, because Engie still stared blankly at his project. This infuriated Spy, whose sharp tongue usually had a much bigger impact.

“LOOK AT ME WHEN I’M TALKING TO YOU, YOU SLACKJAWED SCREW MONKEY!”

Spy gave Engie a stinging, backhanded slap.

Engie scarcely stumbled.

Spy roared in rage and walked out, using his cloaking device so he wouldn’t have to bear a walk of shame. He was also holding his raw hand, which was hurt from the slap.

Demo walked in right after, rubbing his eyes and looking really hung over.

Demo:

“Mmph...whasall this, then? Aye...onea those, eh?”

Demo, being the night owl that he is, had seen Engie in his zone before - in fact, he was usually the first to snap Engie out of it.

“Comere, I’ll show ya how it’s done.”

Demo took the empty beer bottle he was holding and cracked Engie over the head with it. It shattered on impact.

“Don’tcha worry, lads, that hard hat ‘a his is made for more than a strong drink.”

Demo laughed at his own joke, then slowly got serious as he realized Engie still wasn’t reacting.

“Lad? Are ya...did anybody check for a pulse?”

Medic walked over and put two fingers on his neck. After a few minutes, his eyes went wide.

“No bloody pulse?! How the hell-!”

Pyro suddenly walked in, holding a bag of gummy bears.

Pyro:

He mumbles excitedly, then goes over to Engie.

She takes a red gummy bear, which are Engineer’s favorite, and holds it out to him.

No response.

Pyro laughs good-naturedly, as if he was joking about how silly Engineer was being. He put the gummy bear in Engineer’s mouth.

It fell out, but Pyro giggled and put it back in again.

It tumbled out once more, and Pyro cocked their head.

This whole process went on a few more times before Pyro decided to tap Engie on the shoulder.

When that didn’t work, he walked over in front of the table to look at Engie’s face, and hopefully get his attention.

Pyro took one look, started, then backed away slowly. After they had gotten a good distance, he ran to Medic and hid behind him, starting to cry.

Sniper translated: “He doesn’t look good...he doesn’t look like Engie...he didn’t even look...did I do something wrong?”

There was a rattling from above, and Soldier popped his head out of the vent and looked around.

Soldier:

“Morning, maggots!”

“It’s ten o’clock, mate...”

“You shut your godamn mouth before I write you up for insubordination!”

Soldier leapt down, took one look at Engie, and grunted.

“Gone A.W.O.L, huh?”

Everyone nodded, albeit unsure.

“I’ll show you landlubbers what we did in the army...”

He very slowly crept up to Engineer, grinning. Everybody took a step back, just in case.

Finally, Soldier pounced, taking Engineer’s hat and replacing it with his own, whooping and laughing as he went back up the vent.

Everyone just stared at each other, and while they were all recovering, Heavy walked in, still in his nightgown.

Heavy:

“Team is all here...what is wrong?”

Everyone started talking at once, but Heavy just held up a hand.

“One at time. Doktor. What is wrong?”

“Engineer doesn’t have a pulse, he hasn’t reacted to stimuli, his facial expression doesn’t change...he is a dead man valking!”

Heavy just chuckled. “Engie just sleepy. Here. Heavy will take him to bed.”

Heavy picked Engineer up by the underarms, lifting him over his shoulder.

Before he knew it, Engineer was falling apart. Arms, legs, body. It all crumbled to the floor in a mix of wires and cogs.

Pure. Chaos.

Everyone was either screaming, crying, looking like they were about to vomit, or were trying to salvage the pieces.

Suddenly, they heard a yawn behind them.

“Well, howdy, y’all!”

Engineer:

After everyone had gotten over the shock and had made a huge hug pile, Engineer explained everything.

The Engie at the desk was a robot with a realistic skin suit on. In the dark and dusty workshop, no one had noticed the difference.

He was actually doing an experiment - something that resembled a “straight face” experiment they had done with children. He wanted to see how people reacted when there...wasn’t any reaction. His hypotheses were mostly correct - except for Soldier, put he was a random variable anyway.

Scout was mildly put off, Sniper and Medic came up with a logical solution, Spy was furious because of his job’s emphasis on reaction, Demo joked around until it wasn’t funny anymore and then just froze, Pyro was very upset, and Heavy tried to physically change the situation.

“It was all real interestin’...but it had to be a blind study. Sorry I had to worry y’all. It’ll never happen again.”

He looked down at his broken robot.

“Especially not with my Engiebot in pieces.”

Engineer told everybody goodnight, apologized one more time, said he’d make it up to them, and then went to his room.

Needless to say, everyone followed Engie to bed that night.

And he had a certain Frenchman to apologize to over a cold-shouldered breakfast.

***************

I’m a writer...can’t you tell? No, but seriously, by the time I realized it was spinning out of control, I had written too much to delete. I know it wasn’t exactly a normal response, but I just couldn’t resist! I just felt a really good story in this one!

Anyway, I’m sorry this took so long! I have an ask blog and a lot of requests coming my way, so I may be a little slower on the upkeep. But a lot of the requests are pretty short, so I should be able to knock them out.

@catbunblue302

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boop-le-snoot · 3 years

Text

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 31

First time reader click here

it's a mental breakdown *off-key kazoo*. One (1) incident of physical abuse from a parent. And Stephen Strange arc begins opening. Kind of angsty, but more of a filler chapter to resolve the parents-suck thing.

A couple of days was all it took for me to get back on my feet... Figuratively speaking. Neither Bruce nor Tony was particularly excited about me being up and about, I was carried to my desired destination point by one or the other on most occasions. Physically, my body grew tired very easily - I took a lot of sporadic naps throughout the day, more often than not falling asleep in someone's arms. Nobody minded, really - even Loki, who wasn't a touchy-feely person by any means, relented and acted as a body pillow for me when we crashed on the common room couch to catch up with the TV show episodes I'd missed.

Tony was very obviously on the verge of a nervous breakdown. During the few hours I had spent being chased by the Cursed Box Demon in my nightmares, all the leads towards the contractor proved to be cold. Natasha was the most irritated of them all - a late-night talk with Clint through the vent above my room revealed that she took it as a personal insult, unprepared for a simple merc to be so good at evading the world's most notorious spy.

Hulk kept taking over Bruce's body - eyes shining fluorescent green - at the times we were together, periodically clutching me to his chest with clumsy but careful movements. I pitied the mercenary should he encounter my gentle scientist - I didn't think Bruce would even attempt to hold back Mean Green. They seemed to have achieved some sort of symbiosis those days, switching between the two personalities in one body almost effortlessly. Circumstances aside, I was very happy that the tension and the persistent internal conflict inside Bruce had almost disappeared.

What made me upset was Strange. The sorcerer was behaving, well, strangely. He began avoiding all of us - his excuses of helping the search for the merc were flimsy, and Wong's long, deep sigh, when asked about the sorcerer's state of mind, spoke volumes. I suspected Stephen was either seething with anger or drowning himself in the sea of guilt; I had a hunch he was similar to Tony in a way that he hid his vulnerability behind an impenetrable wall of malice and sarcasm and dry wit.

Perhaps I was wrong. But the pent up frustration resulting from the conflict between my overactive brain and my uncooperative body had to blow - and my mother was the fire to my already short fuse. Somehow, she got ahold of the information that I was hurt indirectly because of the actions of the Avengers - and she had called the first available phone she found, which meant Pepper Potts got an earful of vitriol regarding Stark Industries, SHIELD, Tony, and everyone else, including my father. Stoic as she was, Pepper took it all with grace, replying politely to my mother until she hung up on the redhead.

Pepper placed an urgent call to Coulson immediately after that, making the already uncomfortable situation spiral into something truly disgraceful. It ended with strict orders for me to return home - not that anyone besides me and Coulson knew about it. I was a legal adult, I could choose to stay in the tower and my mother was told so on numerous occasions... Knowing her, I was well aware she wouldn't be above storming Tony's home with a small army of her lawyer friends.

Inwardly seething, melting with the anger sitting in the pit of my stomach like a sharp piece of ice, I managed to convince Tony to have Happy escort me home at the guise of gathering more necessities. Tony, being Tony, offered me to buy anything and everything I needed, but relented under my puppy-eyed pleading. It was getting harder and harder to lie to any of my men, the weight of it settling unpleasantly bitter on top of my already foul mood.

Happy grumbled in displeasure at being tailed by a nondescript black SUV - I knew SHIELD would have eyes on me 24/7 now, at least until they catch the rogue mercenary - but seemed to be happy at my general state of relative wellness in his own... Happy... way. Five-second side-grin and "Glad you're up and about, Princess," was probably the most I was going to get from the man who's nickname contradicted his personality. In my humble opinion, he should've been called Brick instead. He was built like a shit house, too.

The moment I stepped into the living room, wearing Wanda's spare sweats and Tony's hoodie, I took a slow look around the room and immediately knew this was it. Most of my anger had receded, courtesy of finally being able to get out of the tower and do something, but the ice in my stomach persisted. The smell of whiskey and cigarettes hit me like a wall, news playing on the TV doing very little to dissolve the viscid, tense silence.

"Sit down," My mother instructed me in the tone of voice she used on people in the courtroom - convicts, people who knowingly broke NDAs.

"I don't think so," I replied, refusing to give in to her bullying. I was being absolutely reckless, I knew it, and still it didn't stop me from standing up for my men. Logically speaking, it could have happened to me anyway, Avengers or not. The cursed box came along long before I'd even met Peter Parker or any of his rag-tag superhero friends.

"Fine," She turned around, steely eyes leveled on me. I was but a speck of dirt under her nails - for the first time in my life, I felt terrified of my mother. I knew what she was capable of. "Listen well, daughter of mine. I'm going to only repeat myself once," She started in that deceptively calm tone of hers. "You are to stop mingling with Stark and his... Company. Immediately. I do not want to hear any more of that Parker boy, either. You will not destroy your future and our family's legacy over some fling with a man twice your age. This little game has gone long enough and it's time for you to get back to reality."

The more she spoke, the higher my eyebrows rose. I was supposed to take orders from my own mother now? Something thin, something thin and crackling with electricity within me just snapped - like a live wire. The hairs on my nape stood up, goosebumps appearing all over my skin. "And what if I do not?" I asked, just as quietly.

I was not prepared for her reaction. One second, she was sitting on the couch and the other - my cheek was burning and my mother was standing over me, breathing the stench of alcohol and tobacco right in my face. I saw the whites of her eyes. "Then you are no daughter of mine. I did not raise you to be someone's cumrag and all this play-pretend scientist shit had to have ended in middle school. I hoped you'd grow up but apparently, you insist on being a baby," She was full-on screaming in my face, so rabid she was shaking.

All I could think of was... How wrong she was. How wrong she would be, her sad little world broken when she finds out just exactly how much I'm capable of. Long gone were the days where I timidly questioned my scientific contributions; thanks to my men - the same men she'd hated so much - I knew my value. I knew I could achieve the things that I wanted.

"If that is your choice, you have thirty minutes to get your shit and get lost. I will not have a whore of a daughter living under my roof," I had missed a good part of her rant; most likely, it consisted of nothing but meaningless insults anyway. After she'd finished, she gave me a shove towards the stairs.

It didn't bother me as much as it should, I think. My cheek smarted and somewhere deep inside, I knew that the eerie calm that had settled over me wasn't normal - on the surface, I felt only relief. The things I suspected all along, finally came to light - she didn't even perceive me as a human being, I was no more than a means to her end. A tool. A thing.

The waterworks started when I frantically shoved most of the shit I could fit in my three suitcases. Upset as I was, my scatterbrain did me a favor that time and I gathered most of the important things. Notebooks full of my research - projects that my mother had called a child's game, projects that could be patented in a week, add a tweak or two. With sudden clarity, I realized I needed none of her money. None of her... At all. In short, I was emotionally all over the place and at the end of it... None of it made sense.

I threw the credit cards with her name on them on the coffee table as I hauled out my suitcases, not sparing the bitch a glance. She was equally quiet, boring into my back with those steely eyes of hers. I felt my skin peel under her stare. In my distraught state, hauling and dumping the suitcases in my car was quick work. Detaching the house key and tossing the last things that connected me to her house on the floor at her feet was a spur of the moment decision; my mother was right, to some extent, and I still had childish tendencies. "You had no right to call yourself my mother in the first place. All you were was an egg donor with more money than you could make sense of. Enjoy your hoard, you damned dragon," I seethed, seeing her frozen in place with her arms crossed and chin held high.

Some part of me hoped she would apologize. That naïve, childish part - I knew my mother and I knew myself, and the trait that we shared was stubbornness. I sped out of the estate without ever looking back, driving aimlessly for a while until the honking coming from drivers around me began reaching alarming levels of volume; tears began flowing down my face at some point, all but obscuring my vision. I parked in the nearest place I could find, in front of a Waffle House out of all places.

Crying in a Waffle House parking lot, how pathetic was that. Logically, I knew at least five people had my back: Tony and Bruce, who surprisingly loved me back; Loki, who had become strangely clingy after my declaration - clingy in the best way. Together with Wanda and Peter, they made my heart warm and my eternally racing brain feel calm and safe.

I called my dad, he didn't pick up. I don't know what I expected of the man, but any and all remnants of my respect for him shattered, breaking into tiny little pieces as I helplessly banged my fists against the steering wheel in a fit of desperate rage. One look in the mirror and my already ashen complexion was made worse by red, puffy eyes and the blooming bruise on my cheek where my mother had slapped me. It was the first time she'd laid a hand on me; I wanted to throw up.

I sat in the car until my breathing slowed; completely and utterly clueless as to what to do. I had no home of my own, three suitcases worth of clothes and research that was useless without a lab to run experiments in, my car, and a small trust fund in my name. The recent incident with the curse box had left me mentally drained as it was, now, I could surely say that my head was empty: no thoughts.

And throughout it all, Stephen's avoidance crossed my mind. As if the self-loathing wasn't enough, as if my own blood, the people who were supposed to care for me, rejecting and ignoring me wasn't strong enough of a blow... The sorcerer's avoidance raised more anger within me. I didn't know why but the thought of him made me want to cry and seethe once again.

Logic gone out of the window, I typed in the Sanctum's address into my GPS with shaking fingers, figuring that if he wasn't willing to do the legwork, I will come to him myself and clarify things for all at once. The mixed signals were just a cherry on top of my sky-high problem sundae.

I banged on the door and it flew open immediately, a surprised sorcerer quickly turning concerned and panicky, noticing my general state of appearance. I was still wearing the same clothes and my hair was in disarray, my face looking somewhere between a coke bender and a manic episode.

"You," I stated darkly, taking a deep breath. "You need to tell me what the fuck is wrong with me and reject me, so I can move on already. And you," I poked the man in the chest, right above the fancy eye-shaped necklace, "Need to stop it with the mixed signals. Stop wallowing in self-pity. Whatever you are doing, STOP IT," My voice involuntarily raised in pitch from all those emotional rollercoasters I've been on that day. "Get back to being normal. Let me fucking live," I finished my tirade as the man stared at me, frozen and open-mouthed.

"I..." He stammered, eyeing me with concern. "What in the multiverse happened to you? What..?" He was so confused, pulling out his phone the moment I bailed my fists.

"My mother threw me out, my father doesn't give a fuck about me, apparently I'm a cheap whore with delusions of grandeur. You're avoiding me and everybody is waiting for me to blow up," I screeched, all but vibrating in my spot. "This is me blowing up. I want answers!" I demanded.

Strange recoiled from me, frowning and pocketing his phone. A deep sigh left him, the kind that made his whole body sag. He ran a careful hand through his hair before looking away and slowly pulling me against his chest, the door shutting behind me and keeping the cold out. I hadn't even noticed I was freezing; my feet were wet from the NYC winter slush and mud.

Stephen's embrace was warm and tender; I wanted to lean into it and push him away at the same time. I was so messed up, it was embarrassing. There was nothing acceptable about this situation - I felt guilty as soon as his face fell.

"Jesus Christ, baby," He mumbled quietly. "Sounds like you had one hell of a day. Let's go, I'll put on some tea," He rubbed soothing circles on my back, something that confused me - I just had stormed in and dumped a bucket of bile right on top of his head.

"I should go," I mumbled, yet had no real strength to move away from him.

"You're not going anywhere. I suppose I need to explain myself, too," He sighed, and despite his obvious discomfort, picked me up, letting my limbs to wrap around his torso like a monkey. I was careful to keep my weight off his hands, even if the trip to the fireplace room was short. As soon as I was placed onto the couch and my shoes were removed, Cloaky drifted over from a dark corner, urging me to take off my soggy hoodie, and wrapped itself tightly around me.

Turns out, semi-sentient cloaks were quite warm.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub @mostly-marvel-musings @vozit @littlegasps @pilloclock @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads @hermione-grangers-wife @individualistfem @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @cutenessloading @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie @mikariell95

#party favours #bun writes #stephen strange x y/n #stephen strange x you #stephen strange x reader #tony stark x you #tony stark x reader #tony stark x y/n #bruce banner x you #bruce banner x reader #bruce banner x y/n

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littleoddwriter · 3 years

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Hurt | Roman Sionis x Male!Reader

This is a purely self-indulgent (and kinda vent-y) Hurt/Comfort fic with my fave comic book Roman version (Red Hood and the Outlaws Rebirth). If anyone should end up reading this, I do hope you enjoy this! Also, uh, reader has BPD in this and the TW’s should say it all, so be cautious when reading, please!

summary; Red Hood makes a snide remark that leaves you overwhelmed with negative emotions. Roman ends up comforting you, after Red Hood inquires about your relationship with him.

notes; TW // BPD episodes; Intrusive Thoughts; Self-Harm (implicit; punching oneself; also attempted self-harm); Mentions of Domestic Abuse, Blackmailing, and a non-con relationship (FALSE accusations); Red Hood handles reader a little roughly at one point; Daddy!Kink. Male!Reader; Emotional Hurt/Comfort; Hugs; Sitting on one’s lap.

"Look, Roman, I don't mind your whole BDSM theme you've got going on. It fits you. But this seems to go a little far, even for you. I mean, this is breakfast, right?" Red Hood said, ever sounding so dry and sarcastic, sitting at the other end of the table opposite from you and Roman. You lowered your head in shame, as your face burned with it, your heart clenched painfully and your hands balled into fists, bunching the fabric of your pants, as you started trembling. Roman's arm tightened around your middle. You sat on his lap, as he fed you forks full of food alternating between you and himself. Having woken up feeling bad, this was routine for such mornings. It grounded you, made you feel a little calmer and had you feeling less like you wanted to rip your own skin off. "I'm sorry. I'm embarrassing you," you whispered quietly, so only Roman could hear it. He squeezed you where he held you around your waist and spoke just as quietly, "Not at all, sweetheart." Black Mask encouraged you to lean back into him with a nudge. Your back rested against his chest and stomach, as your head was supported by his shoulder. Turning your head to the side, your nose pressed against his neck. The smell of his leather mask and perfume all too familiar and soothing to you. You inhaled, a quiet and content sigh left your lips, as you relaxed a little. "Now, now, Red. I don't see why this should be any of your business, hm? This is my home after all. I own everything and everyone in here. Therefore I can do as I please, wouldn't you agree?" Roman said finally, tilting his head a little, looking as inquiring as he sounded. "Sure, sure. Still, it's just... weird. No offense." A dry chuckle left Black Mask's mouth as he shook his head slightly and tightened his grip around you, sure to leave a bruise by now. That was that then. You knew Roman had plans for Red Hood, so he probably held himself back here because of it. Usually he would have shot the person uttering such things as soon as those words had left their mouth. You were glad he hasn't done it this time, as you didn't fancy having someone's blood on your hands. After a couple of minutes of charged silence, in which the three of you finished eating your breakfast, Roman squeezed your waist once more. You lifted your head and sat up properly. "I need to talk some business with Red, here. You can go and do whatever you like, as always, alright, baby?" You nodded and gave a quick, uncertain glance over to Red Hood before turning your head and leaning into Roman. Then you pressed your lips against the cold metal zipper of his mask, which he's closed back up seconds before. Black Mask hummed approvingly in the back of his throat and nudged his masked face against yours in mock of a kiss back. Then you leaned back again and slid off his lap. You waved good-bye and then left the room. As soon as you were alone, the crushing feelings from before came back in a rush. The shame, the guilt, the anxiety, the anger. It was so much. Too much. Promptly, you started trembling again. Your skin felt tight, you wanted to rip it off, scream, cry and disappear. You had embarrassed Roman. Red Hood probably couldn't take him seriously because of you. Just because you're so fucking pathetic that you needed to be sat on his lap and be fed. Fuck! Intrusive thoughts of hurting yourself came over you, such as the urge; and fuck, it was so strong. It hasn't been this strong in at least two weeks. A long time for you. You didn't want to do it, though. You didn't want to give in. Walking around the penthouse and trying to find something to do that would take your mind off things, the urge only became stronger. It loomed over you, suffocated you. It was so tempting. You just wanted to get rid of those feelings. You just wanted them gone so badly. Various images of how you could do it popped up, your mind's eye forced to take them in. It was an itch you desperately tried not to scratch. After an hour of having done skills and tried to get rid of the feelings through some exercise and such, you were still trembling with the urge and overwhelming tightness of the suffocating emotions. You figured that perhaps Roman was done with talking by then, so you went back to the dining room where you have left him. "Hey, Luke, is Roman still busy talking in there?" You asked one of the masked goons standing outside the door. Your voice sounded tight, restrained, and yet so very dull. All those emotions that still tried to claw their way out of you were held back by you by sheer force. "Yeah, he is. What d'ya need him for? I'm sure the boss doesn't mind if ya interrupt him if it's important." "Fuck," you muttered. "No, no thank you. I really don't wanna interrupt him," you then said louder, so Luke could hear you. He nodded and you turned to go back to your room. A while later, you were sitting in the hallway that housed Roman's family portrait. You sat on the floor in front of it, a sketch book in your lap and a pencil and eraser in your hands. Your ears twitched when an unfamiliar footfall came closer to you. When you looked up, you saw it was Red Hood. Immediately panic gripped on to your heart, squeezing it tightly, and surrounded your lungs, making it hard to breathe. Red Hood was looking from side to side before crouching down in front of you. "What are you doing here?" He asked, confusing you. "Shouldn't I be the one asking you that?" "No, I meant here, as in, with Black Mask. Is he forcing you? Blackmailing you? Look, if he's got something on you, I can help you." Your face twisted with both confusion and anger. The panic hasn't subsided, but it made a little way for anger and hurt. "Excuse me? Do you- Who do you think you are? Why do you think you have any place to make such horrendous assumptions?" "He's a bad man and you know it. I'm sure you're not unaware to his 'business', right? It's not too far-fetched that he might have gotten a little too lonely and... y'know?" "What the fuck? Listen, Red, I don't give a fuck who you are or who you aren't. I don't give a fuck that you clearly don't know shit about what you're saying, so just leave me alone, will you?" Instead of leaving you alone, he gripped your arm and pulled it towards himself. "I'm not stupid, I've seen the bruises on you-" You snapped. "Shut up! Shut the fuck up! Shut up, shut up, shut up! You don't know anything! Shut the fuck up!" You shouted, pulling your arm free from him, as he loosened his grip in surprise. Your vision was blurry and red, tears burned your eyes, you were in so much pain all over again. You had just managed to get rid of it. Not without visible bruises on your arms. The bruises Red Hood mistook for abuse marks from Black Mask. It made you feel sick. You took the pencil from the ground where it had fallen onto, after you had jumped up when you had pulled your arm free. Close to stabbing it in your arm, someone embraced you from behind, one arm went around your waist and held you tightly against their chest, pressing their body against your back; and gripped tightly on to your wrist of which hand you held the pencil with. The soothing and familiar smell of leather and his perfume hit you. Roman. You trembled with the panic, the overwhelming emotions and the urge to follow through with what you've almost had just a moment ago. "Ssshhhh, sweetheart, ssshhh," Roman cooed, shushing you quietly. A whimper left your lips as you let go of the pencil. The noise it made when it hit the floor was crushingly loud in your ears. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you repeated over and over again, whimpering and sniveling. Roman continued to shush you quietly, lowered your arm to your side and turned you around, so you could bury your face in the crook of his neck. He wrapped his arms around you tightly and stroked over your back soothingly. "Leave now," he commanded Red Hood, whose quick footsteps you could hear fading away. "Oh, sweetheart, my darling boy. What did he say? What happened, huh?" Your sobs had died down by that point and while it took you a great amount of effort to be able to reply, you did. "He thought you were forcing me to be with you. That you were abusing me b-because of my-my bruises. I'm sorry. I've already embarrassed you at breakfast and now I did it again, I'm sorry, Daddy, I'm so sorry!" "Not at all, sweet boy. You haven't embarrassed me at all. Calm down, eh? It's alright. If anything, he was trying to get a rise out of me at breakfast. That's just how he is. I'll talk to him about this, later, hm? If I didn't have plans for him, he'd already be dead anyway." You nodded against his neck and the grip your hands had on his back tightened. As so very often, you couldn't possibly fathom why he put up with you at all, why he took his time to calm you down and reassure you. He could very well be the worst of the worst, like he was to so many other people; yet he seemed to have the patience and understanding of a Saint with you. It had your mind reeling. "Now, my sweet boy, I know you hate when I ask, but have you hurt yourself before this, today?" Roman asked eventually, his voice a gentle rumble. Once more, you nodded against his neck, inhaling sharply. "I'm sorry," you added quietly. "Why didn't you come to me, hm? I assume it was because of what happened at breakfast. Am I wrong?" "You're not, I'm sorry. I didn't want to interfere. And I didn't want to do it either, I tried not to, I promise. I did everything I could, but I just- broke." "Alright, sweetheart. It's okay. Though, am I remembering this incorrectly or have I really not told you that you could interrupt me and ask for help whenever?" "You've told me, I'm sorry, I know. I didn't want to... embarrass you any further, is all. I'm sorry, Daddy." He loosened his hold around your waist and leaned back, so he could look at you. Reluctantly, you faced him. He let go of you with one arm completely and took ahold of your arm where you've injured yourself a few hours before. A big, blue and purplish bruise had formed already, taking up most of the space of your inner forearm. Ashamed, you averted your eyes. You should have just gotten him to help you. Then Black Mask lifted your arm to his face, as you felt the cold metal of his zipper press against the bruise. The pressure on it hurt, but it wasn't unbearable or truly painful in a way where you'd want it to stop. In actuality, the mock kiss made you feel warm inside. A small smile stole itself on your face. You sighed as the warm leather of his mask gently pressed against your arm, as he turned his head to face you. "Will you promise me to get me the next time?" You could feel his jaw move against your arm as he talked, it tickled. "I promise," you whispered, in awe. He lowered your arm again and nudged his masked face against yours, the zipper pressing against your lips. You kissed it. Then again. And again. "I love you, Daddy. I'm really sorry about this whole mess, I didn't mean for any of this to happen." He sighed, "It's alright, sweetheart. I know you haven't done any of this on purpose." Then he let go of you entirely and bent down, picking up your sketchbook from the floor and looked it over. "You drew me," he stated, surprise clear in his voice. "Yeah, I needed to calm down after- well, you know. And I couldn't think of anything else to do, but sitting down and drawing." "And the best thing to draw was me as a child? Taking this horrendous portrait as reference no less. Although, you actually managed to make me look like a child." "Well, uh, I just thought I'd try myself on it, you know? Make it look less gloomy. Well. You. Not that I'd draw your fucking parents. They don't deserve it," you chuckled wryly by the end of it. "They really don't. It looks good, sweetheart. Will you finish it?" You looked at him in surprise, mouth a little slack. "I can try." "Good. I would like to hang it up, when you have." That surprised you even more. "Are you sure?" He just looked at you, and though his face - or rather, what was left of it - wasn't visible, you knew he was shooting you an incredulous look. "Right, okay. Sure, I will try my best, Roman!" "You always do, my boy." He gently placed the sketchbook back on the floor and put his arms around you once more. "Let's go for a walk then, eh? I feel like it might be good for you, after everything." Nodding, you smiled at him softly, leaning up to press another few kisses to the zipped up mouth of his mask.

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neverendingstories00 · 4 years

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Past The Point Of No Return (Ch.3)

Summary: Safin takes you on a tour of your new home and offers an interesting proposition.

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: n/a

A/n: Guys, sometime needs to take my labtop away. Safin is 100% going to be the death of me. I cannot stop thinking about this pyscho man PLEASE rearrange my guts. Anyways, school is starting for me tomorrow (today since i’m posting this at like 2:30am). I’ll try and get Ch.4 out asap since that’s where the drama is gonna rise. Also, thank you for all the support and comments! I’m gonna respond to them all tomorrow, I promise. I love ya’ll and enjoy the story!! ❣️❣️

Previous Chapter | Masterlist

Three days had gone by. You refused to leave your room after Safin’s temper tantrum. Three days in isolation weren’t the worst thing in the world even if you had no idea where you were. The room Safin had given you was elegant and bigger than your old flat. It was like if Japanese Zen had met modern times. A living room with endless books and plants connected to a bedroom and large bathroom. You felt like you were in a fancy hotel. Inside of the bathroom was a freestanding club that outlook a rock garden. Of course, you had tried to break the glass or crawl out one of the closet vents, but everything had been locked shut. At one point, you had felt the room had been made just for you (which it probably had been). Safin must have had a lot of time on his hands to be able to construct it. The books that were on the shelves were the same books you owned a home, the candles were all lavender and cherry blossom, and even the small amount of clothes he had offered and gotten your sizing in were accurate to your taste. It was oddly amiable, but alarming that he knew so much about you.

As you finished making your Feng Shi bed, you heard a gentle knock at the door. With years in the military, you had recognized footstep patterns. Safin had light but quick footsteps, his boots always making a clicking noise.

“Good morning Y/n.” He says, his cold accented voice slightly muffled behind the door. “I wanted to come and apologize for my uncivilized manner a few nights ago. I didn’t realize that you would be in such a sensitive state. I believe adjusting to new surroundings can be quite difficult. The way I acted certainly didn’t help with that. I did not mean to frighten you.”

Rolling your eyes, you didn’t even want to respond. If you could survive on your own in the wilderness for a month, then you could survive in a lavish bedroom in the middle of god no’s where until-

Oh right. There weren’t coming.

“It truly bothers me that you feel the need to isolate yourself in that room.” Safin. Instead of sounding condescending, he seemed genuine and even beseeching. “You haven’t had anything to eat or drink.”

“I’m fine, thank you though.” You coldy reply, seeing it as a facade. Safin was an anarchist, insane and cruel. “You’re a solid actor though, I’ll give you that.”

Safin sighs but doesn’t give in to anger or defeat. “For what I did to you, you have every right to upset at me. I’m upset at myself. I’m sorry for scaring you into isolation, my dear. It was not my intention.”

You refuse to respond, crossing your arms as you hear him let out a loud sigh. Safin looks at the nearest object to throw in frustration but stops himself for her.

“Y/n, I need you to understand that under no circumstance, that I will ever hurt you. You are a resident, not a prisoner. I want to show you my..” He freezes. It’s not a home, it’s a lair. But for y/n’s sake, it was there home. “I mean, our home. It will be short, and I will get you something to eat. After that, I will not bother you if you accompany me for just one hour.”

Two sides of you were battling with each other. The younger and more stubborn part of you wants to say a snarky remark and tell him to kindly fuck off. But the wiser and more calm side of you says that your starving and need to get out. You don’t sympathize with his actions and hate him more than anything in the world. The man threatened to hurt your friends and family if you didn’t obey his commands. But If he was going to hurt you, then why hasn’t he killed you yet? What was the point of keeping you there, knowing that you could possibly kill him with anything? Safin has stalked your whole life, from your clothing sizes to your military history.

You freeze as your fingers fiddle with each other. Letting the villain win always bothered you. But he offered you food and freedom for an hour. He had better kept to his promise. Looking at the door, you break the silence. “I’ll be ready in five minutes.”

He responds, “Take your time.”

Walking over the closet, you look at the outfits organized by monotone colors. Everything seemed the same as you searched for something that wasn’t oversized on you. Eventually, you came down to wearing a black turtleneck, light grayish blue kimono jacket, and olive peg pants with black boots. The clothes were oddly comfortable and looked more expensive than your shitty flat. You hated wearing tight and revealing clothes, so it was doable. Looking in the mirror before you leave, you see your eyes. They’re tired from crying and sleepless nights. Your body had no energy as your stomach rumbled and throat thirsted for water. The last person you wanted to see was Safin, but you truly had no choice.

Opening the door, you see him standing in front of it with a straight posture and hands behind his back. A subtle smile appeared on his face, seeing you walk out.

“You look lovely, y/n.” He compliments as you walk side by side. He thought you could pull anything off and still looking amazing. You looked at him and nod, a silent response of “thank you”.

As you walk down the hallway, Safin noticed y/n limping more than walking. He made sure Serrano and his men had there asses yelled at. They had done everything they weren’t supposed to do; treat you like an animal, hurt, and embarrass her. No wonder y/n hated him, he thought she was going to be a prisoner or some toy for Safin to fiddle around with. As much as Safin yearned for her beauty, he saw her talent and intelligence. She would be useful in many ways.

In an attempt to be a gentleman, he held his arm out for her for support. Y/n, being the woman she was, silently and polarity declined this offer. Safin found it darling that she was so stubborn, refusing the help of others even if she needed it. Seeing you limp and silently groan made Safin’s stone cold heart drop. He wouldn’t be a gentleman if he didn’t help this sweet, little y/n. In a devilish move, Safin tucked his arm under her hand, linking them both. Her clutched fist dangled in his tight hold, wanting to resist. Seeing her [y/s/c] burn up, Safin softly smiled at her. She eventually gave him as her fist unclenched, softly leaning onto him.

The hallways were long and large, lit by hidden lights. From what you could tell, it seemed like an abandoned Russian military site that had been reconstructed by Safin. It was all concrete and void of any color or life. The Architecture was Raw, brutalist, extraordinary. Taking you up a dark hallway, Safin showed you a bright hallway, full of mustard yellow art. Leading you under a dark tunnel, it revealed a large, empty room. In the middle of the room was a large low black table with cushions, and that was it. On the sides were rock gardens full of shrubs and bamboo. You could hear a running river disconnect the gardens from the concrete gray floor. A few guards stared at you for linking arms with Safin. Seeing them whisper made you look down. Safin had noticed and looked at the men, who had fear in there eyes as they stood straight.

Safin explained that his room was where he and Serrano (or other co-workers in his words) would discuss their ordeals. He saw the light in y/n’s slowly disappear, seeing her thoughts run to something else. There wasn’t really much to show considering that Safin was the only man who inhabited the submarine pen. The soldiers and Serrano resided on another part of the island. He didn’t want to bore y/n but wanted to make sure she was adjusted with her new home.

“Are you enjoying everything, my dear?” He asked, Y/n looked up and nodded in response. She looked exhausted and upset, trying to hide it. Her once glowy [y/s/c] skin was turning lifeless and grey. Safin could see that you were miserable and depressed. He knew being trapped in the submarine pen wasn’t ideal, he had been doing it for years and was ever so alone. Having the company of a woman was something he desired more than anything. Over the years his man had brought him women, but they refused to lay with because of his scars. Safin hated seeing the once joyful and bright light he saw in you.

No words came out of your mouth. You once again nod in response, forcing a faked and sad smile. Safin heart breaks seeing you so silent and upset. His grasp tightens on your arm, to squeeze some reassurance into your dying soul.

“My dear, please speak to me.” He gently cooed, looking into her [y/e/c] orbs.

“I’m fine, just please continue…” You sigh in frustration.

Not knowing what to say, Safin simply continues. It had been years since he had touched or even been close to a woman. Having you here with him was a dream come true. He hated having you sleep all by yourself that was in the opposite quarters of him. All he could imagine was y/n’s soft cries into her pillow from giving up on life. He knew what would hopefully cheer you up. Walking up a spiral staircase, Safin opened the door for you to exit. Upon exiting, you were greeted with a beautiful view. Safin allowed you to walk to the edge to admire the breathtaking view. Not one cloud was in the bright, blue sky. The top of the submarine pen was covered in the island’s rich plants. You truly were in the middle of nowhere, you could have been in the Medaterrian or off the coast of Africa. The Island was so beautiful on the outside, yet so depressing and ugly on the inside. The sun shined onto your skin as you felt the gentle breeze through your hair.

You stand on the edge, seeing that the only island in the distance was you. You were surrounded by miles of water, along with the world’s most feared Anarchist. “It’s so..”

“Breathtaking.” He breathed, standing right behind you. You turn around, somewhat scared by how close he was. Your [y/e/c] met with his milky orbs. His face was grey and dark, his sleek black hair, and dark navy clothes were so dark except for his eyes. He had an usual and exotic face. But his eyes were beautiful and mesmerizing. “Just like you, my dear.”

You huff, rolling your eyes. What had been a nice moment turned into Safin trying to subtly flirt, or so that’s what you thought. “Can you please call me y/n?”

A small frown appeared on Safin’s arms. He’s confused about why you don’t enjoy his attention. “Why not, my sweet?”

“Because I’m not your partner,” You clarify. The way those words rolled over his lips made you squirm and your cheeks burn.

“Whatever you say, my little dove.” He smiles, holding you close. A disgusted “ugh” escapes from your mouth. The time you had outside makes you feel somewhat better. Feeling the sun and wind against your skin felt so normal in your little fucked up world.

Safin tried to pull you closer to him, but you pull away. Even if he was trying to be a “gentlemen’, he was still an anarchist who wanted to kill millions and overthrow the government. All you knew was that you weren’t going to fall in love with him, ever. You shrug him off, looking away from him.

“How did you find this place?” You ask to break the silence.

“Me and Serrano discovered this place when I had left Spectre,” He explains, looking around the gardens before back at y/n. “It was an abandoned communist Submarine Pen. Nobody inhabited it, so I simply took it as my own. I was based in Okinawa before I denounced, so I took slight inspiration from the gardens.”

You raise an eyebrow, “Denounced Spectre?”

“One of my targets resurfaced, a young woman. A woman who I spared...who I loved,” Safin stated, “I had let them go and let them live a comfortable life. She promised herself to me, but loved another man...and birthed his child when she was mine. Spectre wanted her alive, I wanted her and her whole family dead. When they didn’t let me kill all of them, I killed every agent I could. All of them.”

Chills had been sent down your spine. When Safin didn’t get his way, he used violence. You never knew Spectre’s downfall, but all along it had been his man. No wonder Bond was able to take them down; it was all because Safin had practically murdered half of them in a rage since he couldn’t kill his ex-lover’s family. Your thoughts began to race. If you didn’t do as Safin pleased, would he truly kill you? Who could have ever loved someone such as Safin? Too many questions came to your mind.

“So, that’s what you do.” You noted, raising your eyebrows. “Kidnap women and force them to fall in love with you?”

Safin’s face scrunches up with anger, “No, she was different. She was a whore. I never hurt her. I spoiled her and loved her. She betrayed me. But you...” He looks at you with his expressions softening. “Are different. Out of all the women I have encountered, you y/n...are different.”

“That’s all you men come up?” You snort, staring right into his eyes. “Say that were different and then only use us for our bodies? You’re different, Safin. If you don’t get what you please, you act out. You use violence and kill.”

Safin looked at y/n, seeing the smirk on her face. She knew how obsessed he was with her, the anarchist obsessed with the cyrptographer. Safin had no intention of killing you and couldn’t bring himself to kill the woman he was madly in love with. Instead of becoming upset, he saw through you. All y/n was doing was poking the bear, refusing to give into Safin. Safin knew her antics all too well.

“Your hands are not clean either, y/n,” He debated. “Three hundred and thirteen men is a large kill count for such a young woman…”

In your short time in the military, you had achieved one of the highest kill counts in your ranking. Everyone knew you as the girl who never missed. From surviving alone in Serbia and crawling out of building rubble in Iraq, you were respected and feared. But that had been in the past when you still were young and had sanity. Now you were older, wiser, and even more broken. The military had changed your life drastically.

Safin truly knew how to dig under your skin and make you upset. He wanted to see you weak and feel stronger. You refused to let him. A small voice in your head kept telling you, “ Don't play his game. Play yours.”

“ Safin, you’re the most accomplished stalker I’ve ever met” You chuckle. He’s oddly smiling like nothing was wrong.

“A beautiful bird cannot freely fly in a cage.” The anarchist response, a small smile on his face. He relinked your arms as you walked back inside of the submarine pen.

Safin saw y/n, once acting up again. Seeing her make small “hmphs” and look away softly made Safin chuckle. He kept telling himself that with time, she would fall in love with him. Y/n was a young and stubborn woman who didn’t go down without a fight. Once Safin had her, he wasn’t going to let her go. Y/n was all Safin’s now. All the anarchist ever desired was to have company in his lonely lair. Not only someone to love but someone he could talk to and even work with. Y/n was the woman of his dreams who he had yearned for. She had to fall in love with him. She didn’t have another choice.

Safin let her slide away but still kept their arms linked. A part of him wanted to carry her to there next location, but he knew that she would probably punch him. In his spare time, Safin spent hours preparing the submarine pen for Y/n’s arrival. The bedroom was designed to fulfill her needs, but that wasn’t the only place that was meant for her.

“Close your eyes,” He says as you arrive at a large door.

You look at him and raise an eyebrow, immediately protesting. “Your going to trap me in a room where I cannot escape, aren’t you?”

“You are a guest, not a prisoner.” Safin reminded. You roll your eyes, deciding to go alone. Closing your eyes, Safin’s opens the door and leads you in. Taking small steps into the room, you can bear water running and birds chirping. A light that wasn’t artificial was projecting onto your skin. Opening your eyes, you couldn’t believe what you were seeing.

You were inside of a large glass atrium that had an open ceiling, showing the sun and cherry blossom tears. Their sakura petals fell into the garden, a few landing on your clothes and hair. Like all of the other gardens in the submarine pen, it was inspired after a Japanese Zen Garden but with color. There were Cherries, Bamboo, Camellias, Lavender, and a range of other flowers. Out of all of the places in your cold and unwelcoming home, this place had shined the brightest. It brought a true smile onto your face. Letting go of Safin, you walk down into the shrubs and are greeted with a small pond and a chabudai with a teapot and two cups.

“Would you like to have some tea?” Safin offers. You turn around and nod, a smile still on his face. Your not smiling at him, but the beauty of the garden. Before, the flat you had lived in was too small to host a garden (you also lived in the heart of Chelsea). As a substitute, your garden was a bunch of homemade terrariums and flowers. It felt like ethereal heaven.

The two of you sit down in the garden. Safin loves to see you so memorized with all of the plants. He had been in your apartment a few times when you weren’t there. He didn’t know how you managed to live in such a contained space. He had noticed all of the flowers and candles you had kept around and tried to replicate it best. He wasn’t doing something for himself, but his y/n.

“ Your smile is like the flowers in the spring.” He compliments. You look at him as you admire the diverse range of flowers that surround you. “It’s divine.”

“Oh..” You say as you feel your cheeks burn. This man was not going to stop until he got what he wanted. Safin went from kidnapping you to giving you a beautiful garden, along with subtle flirting. You weren’t really into dating much and never were hit on, even if you were a young woman. “Um, thank you..?”

He pours you a cup of Chai tea, and the two of you sit there, drinking in silence. Safin refuses to take his eyes off of you, admiring your every breath you take. Seeing you look at the flowers, fiddle with the cup, and small strands of hair fall into your face as you push them behind your ear. Everything about you was so magical to Safin. No matter what, Safin was going to make y/n fall in love with him. The two of you had enjoyed your tea in peace. Out of all of the madness, being in the gardens brought you peace.

Safin had let you enjoy the moment until he asked the question that he had been pondering about. “Do you love me?”

You nearly spit your tea out. Safin had been subtly flirting with you, but hearing him say the world love made you nearly choke. His face looked surprised, waiting for an answer. You had barely been around this man for a week, and he was already claiming he loved then. Then again, he did stalk you.

“I..um..no?” You spit, furrowing your thick eyebrows. The question had caught you completely off-guard.

Safin smiles, nodding at the response. Although upset at your answer, he knows that you will eventually have to give into him. Safin always got what he wanted, no matter the cost. “Fair enough, you will come around with time.”

The younger and more stubborn part of you would have loved to throw the tea into his hideous face and beat him. But it wasn’t so simple. Safin was a dangerous and mysterious man. The reason Europe was probably going to go into a civil war was because of him. M16 was probably going to have it’s a downfall because his blood became tainted on your hands. Not only were your friends were at risk, but so was your family. Safin had made a threat that if you didn’t comply, then he would...hurt them for you to love you. You couldn’t love a man that would hurt your family and drag them into your mess.

So you did the selfless act. You, a young woman, sacrificed yourself to Safin so your family could be safe from him. You would comply but at a price. No matter the cost, you wouldn’t give Safin exactly what he wanted.

Y/n was giving him the silent treatment again. Her face scrunched up as she looked away, annoyed.

“More like a thousand years.”

“Listen to me, my dear. I will strike a deal. Every night, I will ask you at dinner if you love me. Tell me no as much as you want. I don’t care how long it takes for you to come to your senses.” Safin proposes his plan. He sees y/n’s sudden interest with his “idea.”

“And when I do?”

“The next day will be your wedding day.”

Your jaw almost drops to the ground. Safin was an insane man; you already knew that. He was delusional enough to think that you were going to love him, but marry? That was a whole other level.

“You told Q in Athens you wanted to fall in love before you married, so I have given you however long you need.” He reassures. “But I know it will happen.”

You look at him with pure hate in your eyes. Words could barely process in your mind. You clench your teacup so tightly that you don’t even care if it begins to burn your palms. Safin had a smile on his face. He stood up and walked over to you, helping you up.

“I can get up myself, thank you very much,” You grumble as you walk ahead of him. Safin catches up and walks right beside you, seeing your anger. He pulls you closer than he did last time, tightly holding onto you. He knew that you weren’t going to protest if your family and friends were on the line. As you walk back to the bedroom, you feel relieved since being with Safin is emotionally exhausting. You mentally declare that he is one of the most insane men you had ever come across.

He stops in front of the door. A pissy “goodbye” leaves your mouth before Safin takes your hand, spinning you around. Your faces are even closer now. He smells like an expensive cologne with his haunting, big green eyes. The scars on his face aren’t burns, but horrid cuts that mutated his whole face. His hands were cold and rough from all of the scars. Safin doesn’t speak at all and just looks at your face in a creepy manner.

You feel his fingers brush against your skin as he puts a camellia behind your hair. Safin backs away, a smile on his face as he adores you. Out of all of the gloom in his life, y/n was ever so bright. She had been caught off guard when he placed the flower in her hair. His beautiful bride to be.

“I thought it would go well with your hair,’ He purrs as his fingers stroke it. “Anything would look lovely on you.”

Holding back at eye-roll, a soft sigh escapes your lips. “Thanks…”

“I hope you enjoyed our time together. The garden is for you and only you. Feel free to wander as you please. After all, this is our home now.” He slowly backs away, seeing your eyes watch him disappear down the fall. “I will be pack to pick you up for dinner at seven. Goodbye, my sweet y/n.”

Once he disappeared, you retreat back to your room and slam the door. You see yourself in the mirror with a bright flower in your hair. The hair you had combed had been touched by Safin, making you cringe. As much as you hated him, this new place was your home. This would be your life from now on, whether you liked it or not. Your family and friends’ lives were on the line. It wasn’t such a horrible life. The submarine pen was void of all life but lavish. If being in love with Safin meant your mother and sister would be safe, then so it be. You couldn’t believe you, a simple cryptographer, was the Anarchist’s, true love. Sighing in the mirror, you ask yourself a question that will never be answered.

What the hell had you gotten yourself into?

#rami malek x reader #safin x reader #safin #rami malek #no time to die #james bond #my writing

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empteygold · 3 years

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Clockwork (1)

Summary: It was just like any other Sunday, you were on your way out to meet your two best friends for coffee. It’s been a tradition ever since you all began high school. Now you’re all graduated and your two best friends have officially become pro hero’s. You on the other hand, just lived a regular life as you were quirkless, or so you had thought.

Genre: Angst with a little fluff. It’s not much but things will progress as this fic goes on

Cw: Cursing, talks of depression

Notes: Hi guys, thanks for reading, this is the first fic i have written and the first time in a long time since i have written anything. I have plans for this fic and it will evolve so i hope you stat tuned.

The warm sunlight peeking through your window slowly awoke you from your slumber. You had spent all night tossing and turning. Once you had finally fallen asleep, the sweet bliss was snatched away from you. As a child you remember having recurring nightmares, and now those nightmares were starting to resurface. You weren’t sure as of why they were coming back, since it has been many years since you’ve experienced any form of dreaming.

Not being able to fall back to sleep, you slowly took your time and finally managed to get out of bed. You reached for an oversized hoodie, one you had stolen from your childhood best friend years ago. It gave you comfort. You remember how when you first got it, it smelled like smoke and sweat. It was all he had on him, but you were cold, so he did what he could do. You never gave it back.

As you got up you made your way to the restroom fuzzily trying to remember your dreams last night. You couldn’t quite shake the feeling of the agonizing pit in your stomach. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but your nightmare had felt so realistic. It gave you a sense of déjà vu, like you have been here many times before. It felt familiar and warm, but it also made you sick to your stomach.

You decided to hop in the shower, trying your hardest to push down these feelings. You set the water to an almost boiling temperature thinking it would help. As you stood in the shower crying you suddenly remembered, it was Sunday. Suddenly you felt that ache slowly go away, and you felt a little more at ease. Every Sunday you had a tradition of meeting your two best friends whom you have known the entirety of your life. While you may have known each other longer than you can actually remember, you didn’t actually decide to start this tradition until you started high school.

******

You, Izuku, and Bakugo were completely inseparable up until you all started high school. Both Bakugo and Izuku had gotten into UA, the best school to become a pro-hero. However, you just went to a plain old high school, as you never inherited a quirk of your own. As children you and Izuku had a closer relationship than the one between you and Bakugo. Two best friends basically conjoined at the hip. Izuku was also quirk-less at the time. You all thought he would never get one and that’s how you stayed so close. Two quirk-less best friends.

Bakugo got his explosion quirk young and spent more time with kids who had quirks. Izuku was always hell bent on becoming a hero even without a quirk of his own. The day Izuku received his quirk you and Bakugo were in complete and udder shock. You weren’t surprised though, you had a gut wrenching feeling that a quirk would arise in him someday. The boys were concerned about you making sure you were okay as you still didn’t have a quirk. You were very content with not having one, and it never really crossed your mind on what you would do if you had ever gotten one.

You never considered yourself a bad person, but you didn’t considerer yourself a good one either. Saving people in a heroic way seemed distasteful to you. The only downside of not having a quirk of your own meant not being able to see your beloved best friends as much as you would have liked. Hero training and regular study courses at UA made things very chaotic and hectic for the boys. There was little time for you, and you slowly began to fade from their life’s. During this time period, you had struggled with some major personal issues and not being able to see your friends and have someone to vent to made you spiral into an overwhelming depression.

It had been months since you’ve seen the boys, Bakugo was home for fall vacation and Izuku was out somewhere doing something you weren’t too sure of at the time. Bakugo had called you up and it was so nice to hear his voice. It was low and stoic instead of chaotic how it usually was. When you picked up he could immediately tell something was bothering you and asked if you were free to hangout.

You met Bakugo at a café in town that was in the middle of UA and your academy. It was a Sunday morning, there was a crisp breeze and leaving of different colors falling around you. The walk was somber your mind kept wandering not being able to control your feelings or thoughts. You kept picking at your scarf as you were over thinking. As you got closer to the café the smell of freshly roasted coffee beans and sweet pastries calmed you down.

Once you entered the café you immediately saw Bakugo. He looked nervous for some reason, but his expression changed immediately once his eyes met yours. “What’s with that face Kacchan?” you smirked with a flirty tone. ‘Well good morning to you too dumbass. If you must know, I’m just happy to see you.” Bakugo was only sweet when it came to you, he would never let anyone see him like this. Not even Izuku. While you could tell his feeling were genuine you felt as if he was hiding something. “I didn’t order yet, I don’t exactly know what you like.” He mumbled in a soft tone.

You ordered something new, something you saw one of your favorite American celebrity order in an movie you had to watch for a school project. “I’ll have an oat milk latte with vanilla and hazelnut please.” Bakugo looked at you with a slightly confused face. “I’ll have that too I guess” he stated. You knew Bakugo too well and knew he wouldn’t like it. “Actually, just give him an Americano with vanilla and hazelnut” you smirked back at him “Trust me.” Bakugo was quite impressed with your drink choice even though he didn’t admit it, you could see the smile after his first sip.

You spent the next couple hours catching up, as you realized the time you informed him how you needing to get going. Even though it was fall break you had multiple assignments to catch up on as you were basically failing every single one of your classes. You tended to procrastinate as it was Sunday you had to finish it all by tonight. Bakugo was very displeased in hearing this as he is a top student and knew how much potential you really had.

Upon hearing about what has been going on in your life and how you aren’t doing well in school he decided then and there that every Sunday he would make time for you. He would meet you in this café and he would check on your studies, and even help tutor you. He felt so guilty for not having spent time with you. As he was telling you his plan for the next coming Sunday his little surprised came and plopped down right beside you. “DEKU” you just about cried seeing your two favorite boys together again. Kacchan went ahead and told him his plan and Deku insisted he come along every Sunday as well. Three best friends back together again, and that’s how your Sunday traditions began.

******

After a long-deserved shower, you made your way to your closet, while you knew it was Sunday and the plans to meet with friends was already set in motion, you couldn’t be bothered to put on anything to fancy. Your body still ached from the night before. The fumbling in bed and the jerk of your body as you came pummeling down from your nightmares really put a strain on your body and mind.

A simple pair of leggings and Kacchan’s oversized hoodie seemed to be just fine. Making your way through your apartment, the coldness of the floor made you shiver. As you went back into the restroom to finish getting ready, the image in the mirror startled you. It’s been years since you’ve felt like this. The nightmares bringing up repressed memories and feelings you’ve buried long ago.

The bags under your eyes seem darker than normal and it doesn’t seem like a cup of coffee can help you fix this one. You looked back at your reflection, disappointed in what was looking back and sighed “I swear we’ve been here before, and you can’t go back to feeling like this. Pull yourself together. If not for yourself do it for Bakugo, you know he wouldn’t want to see you like this.” With a little self-deprecation and your pep talk you managed to get ready for the day.

You’re usually known to wear bold eye looks but today you went with something a little softer. A muted brown Smokey eye with a sharp wing liner. As you made your way to your front door, you put on your favorite pair of combat boots. You wore them everywhere, they were in tatters and barley hanging on by a thread, but you loved them more than anything. Upon leaving you felt a slight breeze graze your face.

*Bzzzz bzzzz* You grab your phone from your pocket and answer “Hello?” you mustered up the nerve to get it out as you were not in the mood to be speaking to anyone right at this moment. Once you heard it was Bakugo you felt more reassured. ‘Hey dumbass, where are you?” You didn’t realize the time and how late you had been running all along. “Oh my god Kacchan I am so sorry, I totally forgot about our plans today” a slight hint of sarcasm rolled of your tongue. ‘YOU WHAT” it sounded far more disappointing then angry.” Nah I’m just fucking with you dummy, turn around” There he stood, his sadden eyes igniting at your sight.

This man had the purest crimson red eyes, they matched the fire within in soul. He was beautiful but in the way forest fires were beautiful. He may be destructive, but he did it in the most alluring way. Bakugo made his way towards you wrapping his arms around your waist, you were never one for personal touch even hugs with people you considered your friends was hard for you. With him you felt comfortable, safe even. There was always an unspoken bond between the two of you, after a certain night back in high school but Bakugo would never make the first move and neither would you.

You’ve never held on to him so long in your life. He never once complained though, he just held you until you decided to let go. As the hug came to an end he could sense the tenseness in your body. Your eyes didn’t have the same sheen to them as they usually do. Even though you were wearing makeup he could see the puffiness that still remained. A thumb landed on the apple of your check and slowly rubbed circles into it.

Bakugo let out a small sigh “Oi, I forgot to tell you, Deku won’t be meeting us here today, He’s on a mission and we don’t know when he will be back” A small flash of sadness overcame your face as you would have really enjoyed seeing Izuku, but you understood he had responsibilities as a pro hero. Suddenly your thoughts were interrupted as the barista shouted out your order. You hadn’t realized that Kacchan had already ordered. “Oat milk latte with vanilla and hazelnut and an americano with vanilla and hazelnut for Bakugo and (Y/N).” He was absolutely hooked on that flavor combo since you introduced it to him quite some time ago.

The Barista knew you all by name as they have been working here just as long as you have been coming to this café. Upon receiving your drinks, you make your way to your favorite booth in the corner. It’s hidden away from everyone, it’s nicely lit, and you can see everything happening around you. You’ve always liked to be aware of your soundings in any situations.

Bakugo stares at you intensely, you know exactly where this is going. You take in a deep breath and sigh as he continued to ask you if you were alright. At first, you’re very hesitant but with sweaty hands and a quivering lip you look up and speak. “They’re back Kacchan. My nightmares, they’re back.” The amount of shock of his face was agonizing to see, he still remembers how bad they used to get.

Your nightmares would get to the point where you would call bakugo in the middle of the night screaming and crying because of how real the dreams felt. On days he could, he would sneak out of UA and come to comfort you. He would stay by your side and hold until you calmed down and slowly drifted back to sleep. It was so utterly heartbreaking for him to see you, his best friend so broken and scared. Some days he wouldn’t be able to sneak out but even then he would facetime you until you fell asleep and would stay on until the sun rose. No one ever knew about this not even Izuku.

As you and Bakugo grew closer you and Deku started to slowly drift apart. Izuku only really cared about becoming a hero and his new friends. He spent all of his time with them training and even doing all the stuff you used to do. It made you feel thrown aside and unappreciated. Just because you didn’t have a quirk didn’t mean you still couldn’t hang out with him anymore. For someone who went most of his life unnoticed and quirk less you though he would understand how you felt but he really didn’t. Bakugo on the other hand made some new friends and they’re all really great but thankfully he always made time for you.

Bakugo looks up into your eyes glossed over as tears start to form in the corners, he lays his hands atop yours. (Y/N) are you okay, do you know what triggered them to comeback?” He was quiet, worried about the response you may give him. You stare into his eyes thinking of your response, you didn’t know what to tell him. These nightmares you had were the same as they used to be. He’s already heard what happens. Images and scenes of you and the people you love dying in the most gruesome way. So detailed oriented as if they were memories you had once lived. Recently it has been the same recurring dream but last night, there were minor inconsistencies.

“They’re the same Kacchan, I keep seeing myself and everyone around me die, but the worst part is how real they feel.” As you explained your most current dream to him you could see him become teary eyed. This was a dream that has made you feel so uneasy. This was a dream you had consistently back when you were younger. It started with you walking down an unfamiliar street in an unfamiliar neighborhood. There was nothing unusual about it. You would always pass a thriving Onigiri shop, A couple dogs on a walk and even pass by the most beautiful flower shop. As you come to an intersection waiting to cross the road when you suddenly trip. You fly head first into oncoming traffic and the way your body id torn apart is appalling.

While you only tell Bakugo the dream ends with you being hit, you don’t go into graphic detail not wanting to worry him more than you should. The strangest part is it always felt intentional, like someone was trailing you. You always felt eyes on you, and even though you never knew how to explain it you described them to be eyes that stared into your soul. You saw galaxies floating around in those eyes, just like clockworks. You always heard ticking in the back of your mind. Was it a count down? Why was this all you could now think about.

As your mind came back to the realization you were talking to bakugo he let you know that he will always be there for you and in the end, things would be okay. He tried his hardest for you, but deep down you knew he would never understand. As the morning passes by your usually meeting is cut short as Bakugo was summoned to help out in crime that had gotten out of town downtown. You said your goodbyes and headed your separate ways.

As you headed home you decided to take a new route, a longer way home as you still wanted some time to yourself to reflect on everything happening. The walk was cold, but the sunlight made it bearable. The leaves were changing beautiful colors and were slowly falling. You took in the air around you as autumn was your favorite season of the year. Making your way farther into the neighborhood, you stopped as that heavy and unsettling feeling resurfaced.

You tried to ignore it but as you made your way farther down the street you stop and stared to the building on coming up your right you notice the sign decomposing and falling apart. “Onigiri….” You were in shock, but the place looks like it’s been shut down for years, abandoned even. You continued on your way, but the unsettling feeling kept growing. You next find yourself in front of a flower shop. The flowers are all dead, and the store window was smashed to shreds. Maybe it was a quirk gone wrong. “This has to be a coincidence” you say to yourself trying to believe your own words.

Suddenly you see it, someone walking two dogs passing you. You’re in a trance, panicking not understanding what’s happening and why you’re seeing everything you saw in your dreams. Without thinking you start running down the street. For a slight moment you glance back, to make sure no one was trailing you. As soon as you turned around you felt it, someone had pushed you right into oncoming traffic.

As you look up while you fall you finally see her. A woman with galaxies in her eyes, was that apart of her quirk you wonder as you watch her disappear. As you’re falling you hear the ticking of clocks and see a bus heading for you. “This is it, this is how I die isn’t it?” You slowly begin to sob only wishing you had held on a little tighter to bakugo today. As you fall to the ground you’re stuck looking at the bus like a deer in headlights, when suddenly everything around you comes to a complete stop.

As you’re heaving and trying to catch your breath you look around for a hero who may have been the cause for what’s happening. You’ve heard of hero’s who can slow objects and time around them for short periods of time but a hero who could stop time completely it was unheard of. There was no one in sight, how could that be you wondered to yourself. As you started getting up you heard the ticking of the clock speeding up, for some reason you knew this meant time would be returning to normal, you made your way back to the sidewalk.

You stared at awe at the street where you just about died. You were quirk-less all your life, or so you thought.

#bakugou x y/n #bakugo x self insert #bakugo x reader #bakugou fluff #bakugo angst #bakugo katuski x reader #bakugo katsuki #mha #mha x reader #bnha #boko no hero academia #my hero acadamy #deku

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horrorslashergirl · 4 years

Text

Chromeskull x Cop!Reader x The Collector

A dark themed erotic novel for the twisted minds

Resume: Escaping is never an easy achievement, especially when your captor is a master at traps and doesn’t like disobedience. You tried once. Never made it. Will you try again? Because looks like the spot for his Favorite is open.

_____________

Chapter 1: Nightshift Turn Out

Chapter 2: Twisted Tongue (You are here)

Chapter 3: Rising from fire like the Phoenix

Chapter 4: Video Shadows

Chapter 5: New beginning and Past memories

Chapter 6: Lovers Reunion

Chapter 7: Sweet Blackmail

Chapter 8: False Freedom

Chapter 9: Ugly Jealousy

Chapter 10: Sinful Ecstasy

You heard stories of how people ended being victims to a demented person; torture, humiliation, and the rapes; all where pulled from nightmares of people who managed to escape from such sick person and now you could only pray to God that you would get out alive and with a little hope without being scarred mentally for life by this type of actions.

The place was small and dark when you woke up and there was a deadly silence that made you wonder what was outside this trunk you were in. When you woke up you felt an immense headache shot through your skull and the taste of blood in your mouth. You need to get out so you did what first came to mind, kicking the side of the trunk where you could guess it was supposed to open; one kick, two kicks and it went on like this, until the lock gave up, making you stumble outside on cold and dirty tiles, the small light above you illuminating the room.

The room looked like one of a horror movie; it was like a science lab or surgery room from the tools on a metal table, but what caught your attention was the man strapped to one of the surgery tables or what else it was left of him. It was a middle-aged man, his legs were cut off from his knees and had two more pair of arms attached to his torso, the torso that was ripped open very carefully for so his internal muscles and organs could be seen, but what made you almost throw up was the fact that he was still alive. His heart was still beating, faintly, but still alive. He was unconscious and his lips were sewn shut. Many more tubes and perfusion were attached to him, keeping the poor soul alive.

At that moment you knew this wasn't your everyday kidnapper, this was so much more and you knew you had to think of something to get out or else God knows what that man was going to do with you. You were glad he wasn't here, but that didn't make you sleep on your ear; your eyes looking around for any form of escape. The big metal door was locked, you tried to open it, but no such luxury, then you saw a vent, not big enough for a bulky man to craw into it, but you sure could fit yourself, your smaller form coming into handy now.

Crawling into the vent you were hit by the putrid smell of decay and blood, you could taste the metallic scent on your tongue, but you pushed yourself to move on, your elbows scraping against the walls of the vent, then you saw another window to a vent, some lights showing. Pushing the grill off you crawled out and were met with what looked like a hotel room suite, old from many ages, the furniture victorian style. There was a vanity with make-up products, an old red satin arm-chair, and a king-sized bed, the frame was old, but the bedsheets were brand new.

Then your eyes meet a red trunk, one just like you were trapped in and you gulped down, goosebumps crawling over your arms as you approached it. The floors creaked a little as you took a step and someone banged from the inside of the box.

Someone indeed was inside and your good civilian self couldn't let whoever was inside there, knowing very well what would happen if you left. You unlocked the box and someone stumbled out; a girl, probably no older than you with brown hair pulled into pigtails by pink bows.

She got on her feet and looked at you with wide eyes, the smudged make-up giving her a sad appearance, the pink dress she was wearing a little dirty and her bare feet were all bruised and bloody, along with her knees.

"W-Who are you?" she asked in a whimper.

"I'm [Name]. Who are you?" you asked, giving her a once over to make sure she wasn't deadly injured.

"I'm Samantha. H-He let you out? H-How?" she asked, biting her vibrant pink lips.

"I got out myself. Who is he?" you asked, seeing that your utility belt was taken from you. Of course, whoever he was wasn't dumb.

"He's the master, the one that owns this place. The Collector." she muttered, her eyes widening as she looked herself in the mirror.

"What did he do to you? Did he...?" you asked, afraid of the answer, but alas you had to know what to expect from this psychopath.

"N-No...Not really, b-but humiliation was e-enough." she answered, tears starting to form in her brown eyes that were bloodshot.

"What do you mean?" you asked, the bruises on her knees pretty much giving you some hints.

"I-I'm alive, b-because I'm h-his favorite...H-He made me...." Samantha said, but she was shaking her head like she tried to get that mental picture out of her head.

Flashback...

Samantha couldn't bring herself to get down on her knees, especially after he did to them; piercing her patellar tendon from her knees hurt like hell, but he stitched her up back, her knees now bandaged, but the pain was present.

"No?"

Her eyes widened as his gloved hand was grasping a chain that was attached to an electric collar, said electric collar firmly strapped around the neck of what used to be a male, now more animal than human. He was in a straightjacket and white dirty hospital pants, barefoot, but his face? His mouth was slit open, his tongue licking over his bloody lips as saliva and drool were running down his stubbled chin.

His eyes were bloodshot, pupils all dilated from heavy drugs. This man was looking at her like she was a piece of cake and he was shaking as he saw her fear-filled face.

"N-No! I-I will...P-Please don't." Samantha said, getting on her knees, a whimper leaving her pink caked lips as the pain in her tendons increased, brown eyes locked onto obsidian eyes, The Collector smiled down at Samantha, his favorite, so far.

He attached the chain to a hook, making sure the animal of a man wasn't going to pull a stunt, not like he would, as he pierced him with a needle, the tranquilizing making the male pet fall down into a deep slumber.

The Collector turned back to Samantha with a smile that will give you nightmares for all of your life; he approached her slowly, standing in front of her crouched down form and the real fear began as he unbuckled his belt.

"No teeth."

You looked at her as she cried and all you could do was rub up and down her back, assuring her that you two will get out alive, but she was shaking her head.

"This p-place is full of traps. Deadly, a-and guard dogs. I-Its dangerous." she explained, but you encouraged her, pulling her gently by her wrists, making her follow you. It was probably lucked that the door was unlocked, you two made it out of the room and into hallways.

"You're a cop?" she asked in a quiet voice, wiping some tears of her eyes, smudging the makeup more. You nodded, looking carefully for traps, not wanting to end up dead like a trapped rat.

"Y-You're really pretty, you know?" she said, making you turn around to look at her with a confused face, a nervous smile on her face.

"What's that supposed to mean?" you asked, taking a step back from her.

"I'm gonna end up dead...I know it, but you?....He will destroy you from the inside." she said, taking a step towards you, then she lunged towards you, like a feral cat, but you weren't one to catfight. You took her wrists and threw her over your shoulder, her body hitting the ground then she stumbled back, her feet caught on a wire, then all you saw was blood, some of it hitting you in the face.

Five sharp poles pierced her body, from the wall; one pierced her thigh, second pierced her groin, third and four pierced her breasts and the last one went straight behind her head and came out of her mouth.

Your mouth was hanging open in shock, your body trembling, then you heard it, footsteps and the man in black with the mask at the end of the hall, his eyes taking in what you assumed was his favorite, all dead and bloody. His lips pulled into a snarl and he approached you in large, fast steps.

Without thinking any further you run down the hallway, trying to escape him, turning corner after corner, until you stumbled in what one would assume was the looby of this rundown hotel; your eyes seeing big glasses with corpses? All of them shaped like what you could guess were insects. You felt sick like you were ready to puke your guts out, but you swallowed the lump formed into your throat.

The man entered, a few feet away from you, the exit so close behind you, if you took off in a sprint you would make it, but your legs felt like they were glued on the floor, your eyes wide open, looking into black ones, so empty of emotions.

"You're a sick man." you said, brows pulled into a frown as you took a step back, seeing the knife grasped firmly into his black-gloved hand. He just gave you a lopsided smile, like you just complimented him, then he stalked your way, making you run towards the door, pulling on the door handle, only to be locked. It was just the double doors that separated you from freedom, then the blade pierced the door, an inch away from your head and you felt it, hot breath hitting the nape of your neck and his form behind you, brushing against your back, but you didn't turn around, you couldn't meet these eyes and act all brave, because you were powerless.

"D-Don't kill me." you muttered, they were the only words you could utter out.

You jumped up a little as you felt a hand move over your hip, just brushing against you, the contact felt too intimate for your liking. As soon as the gentleness came, so it went flying out the window when the other hand grasped your ponytail, tugging your head back, making you cry out, your hands never leaving the door handle.

He buried his masked face into your hair, right behind your ear, taking a deep breath. You knew what he most likely did to Samantha and you weren't ready for this. To be stabbed, cut? Yes, you could handle it a little, but this? This is what a lover would do to someone, but who was behind you, surely wasn't your boyfriend or a guy you would crush on like in high school. This was a monster because man couldn't do him any justice.

"N-No..." you whimpered as he gave your hair another tug, a carnal growl coming from him, then he hit your forehead against the door, hard, very hard that you blacked out, falling on the floor at his feet.

Who knew that a sunny day of Iunie would be the end of normality for someone? That was what you were thinking as the ambulance pulled over to the motorbike tournament, paramedics coming out, running towards your brother, all bloody and unconscious, his legs twisted abnormally.

"Nooo!" you screamed, falling down on your knees, your eyes taking in the scenario from what you only assumed till then was just nightmares, but this was reality.

A loud gasp left your lips as your eyes opened, temporarily blinded by the neons above you, your body covered into a sweat from the nightmare that shook your body moments ago.

You tried to move your arms, but couldn't, seeing that your upper body-part was strapped into a white straight jacket, your legs chained on each corner of the metal table you were on. This was bad....very bad. You heard moving from your left and turned your head, only to see broad shoulders and a muscular back, working on a dead body, or at last, was that person dead? The scream from that person answered your question and you cringed, a headache forming into your brain. A groan left your lips and you saw the man in black stop his movement, turning his head towards you, his eyes meeting yours.

"What a-are you going to do to us?" you asked, referring to not only you but the other unfortunate souls that have found their ways into his claws.

He didn't say anything, only returned to the victim, a scalpel in his gloved hand, and the trashing of the said victim became more intense until his body trembled and your kidnapper moved away to see what he just did.

You had seen such things in only horror movies; this psychopath just cut that person's tongue off and had the pink and red muscle in one hand. From the way this man looked at you, you probably had the most horrified expression ever, because he was such slightly smiling like this was just an everyday routine, which probably was.

You squeaked, from what Samantha told you, he was nicknamed as The Collector. Well, The Collector approached you, coming to your head and he dangled the tongue in front of your face, making you grimace. It didn't get any better when he brushed that tongue over your lips and you closed your eyes tightly, feeling your stomach turn and your insides to flip, then he pulled it away, putting the tongue into a jar filled with a substance.

"Y-You're so gross!" you spit out, glaring at The Collector, who stopped and turned towards you, like the fact that you just spit insults at him was a death penalty in his world, which was.

He walked back towards you and before you knew it, he grasped your tongue between his fingers, making fear fill your eyeballs, knowing damn well what happened to the still breathing body on the next metal table close to you.

"Should I cut it off?" it was the first time you heard him speak.

His voice was deep and calm, the type of calmness that gave you badly, bad feelings. His fingers rubbed your tongue, making you tremble and your skin to feel like it would crawl itself from your body, leaving you just a pack of muscles, organs, and bones.

His eyes were inspecting you, taking in all your reactions, not to mention how uncomfortable it was for someone to hold your tongue, making drool accumulate on your mouth, and run down the corners of your mouth.

He let go of your tongue and you quickly closed your mouth, your eyes taking in his drool covered nitrile gloved fingers and your expression was probably pure gold for him when he pulled said fingers, into his mouth, his jet eyes never breaking eye contact.

You had probably the most dumbfounded expression ever, but you were pulled out of your shock when he patted your cheek in a mocking manner, then he left the room, leaving you alone with the other one strapped on the table.

This was going to be bad....

Asa was back at his house, his two German Shepards following after their master, as he put his denim jacket on a hook in the principal hallway of his two-story house.

Tomorrow he had to go to university because his two weeks vacation was done; the time when he took most of it at the hotel where his collection was. He needed to take a shower, the smell of disinfectant and blood still lingering in his sandy brown hair.

He pulled his black turtleneck off, looking into the mirror, his eyes tired looking, then they moved onto his lips. He sighed and undressed fully, turning the water on and getting inside, letting the warm water hit his skin, muscles tight, and sore from overworking.

He still could taste you; the metallic familiar taste of blood, but that faintness of strawberry.

Asa groaned, feeling his length between his legs starting to harden, his hands forming into fists.

He had time, there was no need to rush things.

Your tongue is mine, little girl...

To be continued...

#Laid to rest 2009 #Chromeskull: Laid to rest 2 #Jesse Cromeans #jesse cromeans x reader x asa emory #Chromeskull #Chromeskull x reader #The Collector 2009 #The Collection 2012 #the collector x reader #Asa Emory #Asa Emory x reader #Jesse Cromeans x reader #the collector x reader x chromeskull #slasher x reader

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hyanikaa · 3 years

Text

Chapter 1 • The Secret is Out

So I created an AU where Memey’s cookie monster suit/onesie is possessed by a demon.

My friend Carrot helped me with this fic, go give them a like and follow on IG

WARNING//(Gore, Violence)

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 |

——

Blaza ruffles out of the crowd that gathered around Laff and Socks and noticed Memey panicking. He walked over to the blue man and grabbed a chair to sit on. “Memey, what happened?” Blaza said, his voice dead serious, it’s wasnt like Blaza to be dead serious about things, so his voice sent chills into Memey’s spine. “I don’t know..” He stiffened, “I actually don’t know- I was just here in Medbay, working..” he trailed off, voice shaking “I don’t remember eating them..” he choked a quiet sob. “How could you not remember such a... vital time stamp?” Blaza asked, still holding a dead serious tone. There was a slight quiver in it as Blaza started to lose his composure after glancing at the clueless Laff. “I-I’m not sure, one moment I’m in the Medbay and the next I’m-“ Memey cut off his sentence. He couldn’t finish it.

“Oh my god, oh my god-“ Socks held onto everything around him for dear life, like the world was about to tumble down around him. He whimpered at the digging pain in his stomach but still sat in the same position, his eyes wide and cautious. “Woah, woah, calm down S-“ Dino started, reaching their hand to Socks only to have it smacked away. “...no, no, I’m sorry, I just...” Socks’ chest rose and fell quickly like a guinea pig sitting still in fear. “What’s bothering you?” Dino asked quietly, not wanting to draw attention from the crowd. Socks did not respond in words, instead he let out sob, holding onto his arm as he remembered the pain that struck him when it got ripped off. “Im sorry.” He let out, hugging himself.

Nadwe burst into the room, holding onto the door frame for support as he caught his breath. Socks let out a loud yelp from the noise before calming down and hugging himself again. “Oh... my god...” Nadwe breathed out, letting out a final long breath before standing up straight. “I’m so sorry I’m late. The doors to electrical and storage shut.” He immediately read the room and looked towards Blaza for help. “...it’s not good. Me and Dino walked up on... Memey. Uhm...” Blaza stuttered, trying to keep it down. “Memey was... eating Laff and Socks... Laff doesn’t remember but...” Blaza glanced over at Socks. “Socks clearly does. Memey doesn’t remember either. Once their bodies have fully regenerated we have to discuss this.” Nadwe absorbed the words and quickly stiffened. Blaza swore you could hear the gears turning in his head. “...I’ll go talk to Laff. You guys sort things out.. yeah...” Nadwe trailed off before tipping both of his hats as a goodbye and walking towards Laff’s medbay bed.

Nadwe sat down beside Laff, “How are you holding up?” He asked. “I dunno mate, I was just walkin down to electric an then I woke up here.” Laff replied, looking around the room then at Nadwe then his hands. “Nadwe...” Laff started, “Hm?” “Is it normal, to feel agonizing pain like you’re bein’ eaten, even if you’re not?” He asked, looking at Nadwe with desperate eyes that wanted answers. His eyes widened at his question, holding his hand up his mouth, he knows what Laff meant, Blaza told him what has happened. But he felt guilt clawing at him for not telling the whole picture. He just sat there, lowering his hand, “I don’t know Laff...”

“Socks, calm down!” Dino said, almost a hint of begging in his tone. “Please, please! Socks...” Dino almost started to cry themselves. Seeing Socks in the shocked state hurt Dino’s heart on a level that couldn’t be described. Socks closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, trying to forget the gnawing sensation in his arm. “I-I’m sorry, Dino. It’s just.. a lot.” Dino nodded and quickly placed their hands on the sheets of the bed, eyeing the wound before opening their mouth to talk. “After you and Laff have recovered, i think we still have to... discuss it in the cafeteria. Are you going to be okay...?” Socks sat straighter, contemplating in his mind of the scenes that could play out. “I-I should be okay. It’s fine, I’ll be fine. I just...” Socks looked down on his bandages hands. “Can’t look at him right now.”

Days passed and the two were now physically healed, though that incident left them psychologically scarred, not just them, but also to Blaza and the others that saw the incident first hand. It terrified them, was that really Memey? What happened? These questions and many more invade their thoughts like wildfires. But those questions will now be answered, right? Memey will explain what that thing was, right?

They all gathered around the table in Cafeteria. Socks was with TBH who was supporting him, was his leg injured? surely not. Laff was already in Cafe before the others could arrive, how did he get there without supervision? Once a everyone was there, silence filled the room, it was deafening. Why did no one wanted to talk? Why were they so silent—

Blaza cleared his throat, breaking the silence. It wasnt like him to start the discussion, it wasnt like him to be serious and not even break a smile. He didnt. “So, I think we all know why we’re here.” He stated. Everyone turned their gaze to Memey except for Socks, who looked down at the cafeteria floor. “Memey...” Oompa asked, the eye on his head turned towards him in curiosity. Oompa had been in Navigation and hadn’t heard of the attack until much later. Memey sighed and looked across the table to Socks, who didn’t look up. “I-“ Memey started, feeling a lump in his throat. “I’m... not sure what happened...” he gulped as the pressure tensed. He took a moment to think. “You’re not sure what happened...” came a small voice. Socks looked up and slammed his fists on the table, shaking a few of the old drinks over. “YOU’RE NOT SURE WHAT HAPPENED.” Socks let out a crazed laugh before standing up. “You almost KILLED ME. YOU almost ATE ME. SCRATCH THAT, YOU DID EAT ME. IF BLAZA AND DINO HADN’T COME, LAFF AND I WOULDN’T BE HERE RIGHT NOW. AND ALL YOI HAVE TO SAY IS YOU’RE NOT SURE WHAT HAPPENED.”

Memey’s face paled at Socks’ statement, he’s right, he did eat them, he did. But why can’t he remember? Why can’t he remember meeting Socks in the hallway between Storage and Lower Engine? Why does his head hurt when he tries to remember? Why does everything hurt— Memey block his ears with his hands, pain clawing and screaming in his head, he shrank down from the meeting as he submerged himself into his thoughts. His eyes started watering as the pain get more and more out of hand. “Shut up...” He quietly said. Socks watched as Memey covered his ears, shaking and shrinking to the table. Memey muttered something. “What?” Laff asked, trying to pull Socks back into the seat. “SHUT UP!!” Memey screamed, still covering his ears. He looked desperately at the people around him, pressing his hands tighter as the voices screamed louder with each look of dismay. He let go of one hand and wiped the tears pouring from his eyes, hearing a tight, high pitched note as the voices screamed into the ear. He quickly escaped the cafeteria, making his way to the left side of the ship and hiding in the corner of reactor.

“The hell of a discussion that was,” Oompa said, getting up and slightly looking at the red button in the middle of the table. “I’ll go find Memey. You guys...” he looked at Socks, who started taking in more shaky breaths. “You guys calm down Socks.” Memey crouched down behind the engine on the top part of the ship, he’s tired, he’s drained from the joyful tone he always had. “What wrong?” It asked, “Oh so now you’re here?!...” Memey hissed at it, it stayed quiet for a bit, “Was not cookie?..” he snapped. “OH SO THAT WAS YOUR DOING?!” Memey said, totally enraged by the thing, “I TOLD YOU I WAS GONNA GET YOUR COOKIES AFTER I REST- BUT YOU DIDNT LITSEN- YOU STILL WENT OUT TO LOOK FOR ONE, AND NOW LOOK AT MY SITUATION!!!” He vented out, calling the demon hurtful things, it felt guilty for not waiting, it dragged it’s host into a situation that could have been avoided.

“Memey? Was that you?..” Oompa called from the hallway. Peeking from the front of the engine, his eyes widened as he backed away, “You’re not MemeGod...” he quietly said as slowly went to grab his gun. “Cookie?...”

——

Socks huffed as he felt his confidence dwindle and his strength deplete. He dropped down into his seat and wiped his eyes, anger pushing more tears down his face. “Socks...” Laff started, placing a comforting hand on his arm. “It’s so stupid. It’s all so stupid,” Socks whimpered. “God, It’s all so DUMB. It’s just so...” Socks let out another sob, covering his face with both hands. “After all the pain of being ripped apart, eaten alive, all Memey has to say is... I DONT KNOW WHAT HAPPENED?” Laff looked towards Blaza for words. “Socks, you know that wasn’t him. He couldn’t have done it purposefully. He wouldn’t. You and I both know that.” Blaza finally gave a small grin. “You and I both know the stupid FatMemeGod. He wouldn’t do that.” Socks listened and didn’t respond. He knew this was one of the rare times that Blaza was right. Memey would never do that.

“But...” Socks started. “If that wasn’t Memey...”

“Then who was it...?”

“NO STOP-“ a scream was heard from upper engine, they all looked at eachother, worry plastered all over their faces, they got up from theirs and bolted towards the origin of the noise.

They weren’t prepared, they weren’t prepared to see this. Oompa was knocked out, head bleeding. And beside him was Memey, or was it actually Memey?...

He was screaming, he was rejecting and refusing, he was jerking and kicking himself, pulling the hood of his onesie away from his face. Why is he pulling it away? “LET GO!-“ Memey painfully screamed as the demon took over its host, the hood closing shut. It stood up from the cold ground he was sitting on and shook off the blood on its hands. Memey? seemed taller, this isnt him. Who is it? Why was Memey refusing? Why was he screaming.

The tall figure spoke, “Memey friend?...” (help me). The two voices overlapped, but it was clear the two said different things.

“Oompa!!” Blaza yelled, running over to the bleeding figure on the floor. “BLAZA!!” Nadwe yelled as the creature took a step towards the two. Nadwe rammed himself into the creature and watched as the originally derpy eyes turned sinister and creeper. However, this creature had double— no, triple— the strength of Memey. It quickly overtook Nadwe and slammed him onto the ground, leaving him pushing the wrists upwards and the creature snapping its jaws at his head. Socks quickly pulled Memey off of Nadwe, helping him up. The creature roared in frustration. The space that held Oompa and Blaza was empty. They’d escaped, but the ship was only so big. It all happened in slow motion. Nadwe swung Socks around and switched positions with him, tanking a large crunch down on his right shoulder blade. “AHH!!” Nadwe yelled as a loud crack was heard from the bone splitting under the pressure. His hats dropped to the floor as he tried to escape the monster’s grasp. "You hurt Memey..." It said, it's voice rough from underuse. "Why did you hurt Memey?!" it grip tightens on Nadwe as it screeched multiple questions at the two. Socks ran into Medbay and grabbed a fire extinguisher, he rushed back into the area, screaming his anger as he slammed the extinguisher into the tall figure's head. Knocking it unconscious. Nadwe let out a weak noise on the floor choking for air as the blood form his shoulder began to pool. The mouth of the monster cranked open, exposing an unconscious Memey inside with a bleeding head. Socks huffed a bit to catch his breath, setting down the fire extinguisher. Tbh didn’t hesitate and picked up Nadwe, setting him on his back. He lifted Memey up as well and quickly darted towards medbay. To his surprise, Blaza and Oompa were nowhere in sight. “Socks,” Tbh called, quickly looking back into the room. “Go look for Blaza and Oompa. Where’s Laff, that kid??” Socks darted down the halls as Tbh set down Nadwe and Memey. He quickly pulled out a roll of bandages and tried his best to wrap the bandage around Memey’s head, moving aside the hood with surprising ease. Seems like the onesie also wants Memey healed as well. Tbh turned his attention to Nadwe’s shattered shoulder. Socks eventually found Blaza and Oompa in Admin. Socks peeked from the door, “There you guys are..” Socks huffed, relieved they weren’t that injured. “How’s Oompa?..” “Not good..” he replied, putting his hand onto Oompa’s neck to find a pulse. “Is he still breathing?...” Socks worriedly asked, “...” “What?..” “I can’t feel any pulse..” “oh god...”

Socks rushed towards the two, he’s desperate, he’s not used to experiencing any violence first hand, he’s scared, he doesn’t want to experience a death of friend first hand. But he did. Oompa laid limp on the floor where Blaza placed him, there was no sign of life, he died..

——

The two went back to Medbay, when the scanner started beeping, creating high pitched sounds that hurt TBH’s and Nadwe’s hearing. Nadwe leaned up from the bed, moving carefully trying not to disturb TBH who was patching his wounds. “What-“ he was cut off as a loud choked scream was heard as the scanner stopped screeching.

Oompa dropped to the ground, coughing up air as he suddenly regains his life. “A-alive... holy crap... I’m alive...” Oompa gasped, clutching his heart as a fin reminder that his life lives on. Socks tackled Oompa in a hug, slurring words together as worry and relief washed over the two of them. “Im so surprised!! I thought you’d died!!” Socks yelled, hugging Oompa tightly. “You and me both...” Oompa hugged back and looked up at Blaza, who let out a sigh of relief. Oompa patted his heart twice and a thumbs up, reassuring Blaza from afar that he was okay. Oompa coughed and spat more blood. “Shoot... the medbay scan doesn’t quite heal large wounds...” Oompa said, his grip getting loose as blood continued to pour down his head. Socks quickly helped Oompa to a bed and took another roll of bandages, beginning to wrap it slowly around the wound. Nadwe sighed in relief as Tbh finally finished putting his shoulder blade back in place. “Nadwe, you’re so stupid,” Socks said, sitting down and pouting.

“What...happened?..” Memey said as he sat up from the bed, he flinched at the burning pain that scattered around his body. Looks like him kicking and banging himself into the ground and walls did a toll on him. “Glad your awake MemeGod.” “That is so unlike you to be nice Oompa- ow-“ his head still hurts.

“Mind telling us what happened back there?” Blaza asked.

#MonsterCookie au #fanfic #angst #fluff #blaza #its blaza #blaza plays #meme #fatmemegod #laff #laffengas #socksfor1 #nadwe #oompa #dino but b #tbhonest #cookie

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kulaykape · 4 years

Text

The Chief’s Kid Part 1

Ok so, ngl. I don’t much like how this first chapter turned out, but I burned out of energy writing it and I don’t wanna lose interest in writing this story by redoing the first part over and over again.

So here it is anyways, lmao. I promise that part 2 will be much cleaner. This is just me trying to get off the ground with the story. I’ve decided that this is probably gonna carry on much longer than 12 parts, so that’s good :)

Enjoy! (if you can)

---

It was stormy that night. The spirits seemed to be particularly angry, beating down with as much water on our heads as they could. Our uniforms were heavier than usual, and we were soaked to the bone before we’d even reached our destination.

But at the same time, it was a blessing. The rain would make it harder for our targets to make an escape, and they’d never see us coming.

I stood on a roof right across from our targeted building. A few of my men were at my side, and we all watched intently as the other officers got into position below us.

The radio crackled quietly, having been turned down to a low volume. Likely nobody would’ve heard it if it’d been louder, given how furiously the sky was raging, but we weren’t going to take chances.

“Squad 3 in position, Captain.”

“Squad 2 in position, Captain.”

“Squad 4 in position, Captain Beifong. On your call.”

I nodded, and one of my officers flipped the radio off. I wiped my now-floppy hair out of my line of sight and narrowed my eyes down at the building. With how much trouble the Terra Triads had given us- given everyone- I’d seriously been considering collapsing the building on their heads. Until we’d found out there were kids involved.

I retracted the metal from around my right foot, and then slammed it on the ground. Through my mother’s way of sight, I was able to see everything through an echoey, tunnel-like view. There was no exit where Squad 2 was covering, but there was one in the back. When I opened my eyes again, I gestured down below for them to move around to the back. They did so, quickly and quietly.

After a few beats of waiting to let them reposition I looked back at my men. “Jin, Taro, take the two left windows. Pao, Hanji, the right ones,” I ordered, and they all nodded, “I’ll take the middle. Let’s move!”

Our metal cables sparked and sang as we cast them out to the top of the building, and then swung down to the second level of the building. I glanced down to catch my men crashing through the side windows of the first floor, and then some of them shooting up into the second.

I turned my shoulder towards the window before I crashed through, and rolled onto the floor. The sound of thunder was drowned out by screams and yells of fright , and I was immediately thrown into combat mode.

I stomped my foot on the ground and raised a good chunk of the floor up, jabbing at a firebender as he tried to blitz me. The rock caught him and took him with it to the wall. The earth buzzed beneath me, urging me to turn around. And so I did, arcing a kick around as I went and smacking another thug squarely in the fact with a rock.

“Captain!” Pao called out to me. I snapped my gaze towards him. He was pinned down near the wall by two earthbenders, tanking as many shots as he could manage but he was fading.

I sprinted over and whistled at Jin as I neared him. Wordlessly, he stuck his hand out to offer me a boost. I jumped up, and with a loud cry, I slammed my hand into the ground when I landed. Two pillars jumped from the floor, ramming the two into the ceiling with a crack before sinking back down.

Pao nodded at me. “The kids are supposed to be in the basement,” he said.

“Then let’s hurry.”

Pao was the Captain of the Metalbending Police’s Special Corps, the best ambush and combat team the RCPD had to offer. Barring me just having to save his ass, he was the best to have alongside you in a fight.

We barreled through everyone that stood in our way as we made our way down to the first floor. We didn’t stop to fight, Spirits only know what could be happening to those children as the seconds winded down.

I vaulted over a table and pushed my arms out, causing the trapdoor that led into the basement to swing open. Pao and I jumped through, and the yells we heard this time around were much more adolescent.

I couldn’t help but gape for a moment at the sight before me. None of them could’ve been over the age of nine or ten. It was all little girls, lined up in chains along the wall looking less dignified than cattle. Some of them were naked. All of them were bruised and battered.

I remembered what mom had told me before she’d left, advising me with what I’d need to know for when I eventually became Chief.

“You’re going to have horrible, gruesome things come across your desk. And it’s never going to stop, no matter how good you are, Lin. So find some peace in knowing that.”

“Let’s get these kids out of here. Hurry!” I said. Pao and I circled our hands around, then splayed our fingers out. The shackles around each of the kids fell to the floor, but none of them moved towards us. Something tingled in my feet, telling me that this wasn’t right.

Then the basement door slammed shut.

I heard a rock crash into something, and Pao crying out in pain. “Pao!” I turned around just in time to be rocked in the jaw with a rock. I fell to the ground with a grunt, cursing when I saw Pao lying not so far away, soundly unconscious. I looked up to see a figure standing over me, a rock raised above his head, but the world was spinning too quickly around me.

I gritted my teeth as I stared my fate defiantly in the eye, silently apologizing to the kids behind me.

But that quick blow of the end never came. Instead, I heard that sick, cold sound of metal entering skin. But it wasn’t mine.

I let out a groan as the world slowed down and eventually stopped spinning around me, and dragged myself to my feet. The earthbender fell as I rose, and I stared down at him with wide eyes. What looked like one of the shackles had been bent into something like a weapon, a sharp, haphazardly piece of shrapnel. And it was sticking out of his back.

My gaze slowly traveled back up, and I met the eye of a little girl. Her hands were splayed out in front of her, like she was reaching out to the man on the floor. She’d killed him.

And, as a result, saved me.

---

“‘S the matter, rookie? Nervous?” Pao asked me. The van passed over a bump in the road, and jumped up and down with a ba-dump.

I gave him an incredulous look and smiled. “I’ve never had the decency to be nervous,” I replied. Pao laughed heartily and slapped me on the back, like we were headed to the bar rather than a Terra Triad holdup. Everybody else looked like they were at ease too. Which made sense, I guess. I was the only rookie here. Everybody else had been doing stuff like this like clockwork for over a decade.

“Did I ever tell you about the first time your mom coordinated an ambush?” He asked.

I made a face. “Wasn’t I there?”

“No, that was a little while later.”

“Pao, Beifong, can it,” mom- or rather, Chief Beifong- snapped at us. Pao raised his hands placatingly, while I cowered back sheepishly. Mom held onto a hook overhead, the only one standing in the moving vehicle. I stared up at her with wide eyes.

This was who my mother was. An intense leader, with a perpetual glare that scared the shit out of even the people she cared about most. I’d seen her fight (well, spar), and she looked relaxed at worst and amused at best. Neither of those qualities lined her face right now.

The van slowly came to a stop, and I looked out the front window. We’d parked behind a building two blocks down from where we were headed. We’d move the rest of the way across the building tops. I inhaled slowly and then exhaled, and pulled on my helmet. I started to stand up, but a hand pushed me back down. I looked up and met my mother’s stern expression.

“Not so fast, rookie. We still have a briefing,” she said.

I nodded. “Sorry, ma’am.” She squeezed my shoulder subtly, before folding her hands behind her back and facing the rest of the Special Corps Team.

“Our mole said the hostages are going to be on the airship in the hangar. I’ll lead Squad 2 on the rescue,” she proclaimed. I looked around. Squad 2 was me, Jung, and Yen. Two of the older veterans and the ‘little baby’, as I’d been dubbed. “Squads 1 and 3 will coordinate as we discussed earlier. Any questions?” Mom didn’t even give enough time for someone to open their mouths, “Good. Now let’s get this over with.”

The back doors of the van opened and we silently filed out.

“What a briefing,” I muttered to Pao.

“Your mama doesn’t mince words,” he replied quietly, “Now focus, rookie.”

“Jung, Yen, rookie. With me,” the Chief called. We all stepped towards her, and followed her lead as she threw out her metal cable and shot up to the roof. The others maneuvered through the dark alleys below, and their stealth uniforms coupled with the pitch-black darkness of the street made them quickly fade away.

We made our way across the buildings quickly and quietly. I was smiling under my mask as I hopped over ledges and vaulted over ridge vents. It was like we were going on a parkour run, only there were crack dealers and murderers at our destination.

We finally came to a halt at the building across from the port warehouses, and crouched down low as a security light sweeped over us.

“Rookie,” the Chief barked.

“Ma’am?”

“Locate the hangar,” she ordered.

I nodded, and promptly retracted my metal shoe. It made sense that mom would ask me to do it. I’d proved to have a stronger seismic sense than her (maybe because I might as well have been as blind as Grandma Toph). I furrowed my brow as I searched through the ground, until I located a mass of heartbeats clumped together in one of the warehouses further down.

“Second closest one to the dock on the left,” I whispered.

“You sure, rook?” Jung asked.

I blinked twice at him. “...Yeah.”

“Any guards?”

“There’re fifteen people in there.”

“Eight hostages, right Chief?”

Mom hummed as she contemplated our next move. I touched her shoulder, half-expecting to get shrugged off, but she looked at me expectantly.

“We have the element of surprise. We can take ‘em,” I insisted. Truth be told, I just wanted to fight. But that was the type of statement that would get me a smack in the head instead of a scrap.

My mom looked me in the eye as if searching for that masochistic desire of mine. When I hid it well, she let out a resigned sigh. “...Fine. Let’s move underground,” she said. We all nodded, and jumped down to the back alley, then spiraled ourselves into the ground.

---

We popped back up at the back door of the hangar, between the tall building and the endless expanse of water on Yue Bay. My mom signaled for Jung and Yen to take one side of the door, while the two of us crouched on the other.

I grinned underneath my mask as I clenched and unclenched my fists. Something told me this might end up being more fun than any Pro-Bending match I’d been in.

“Three are on the far right, three are guarding the aircraft. The last one is at the front door,” my mom whispered, “Jung, Yen, secure the aircraft. Beifong and I will take care of the rest.” We all nodded dutifully at her, and shifted into a more explosive position. Jung stood in front of the door, his hands poised behind his waist to blast the door through.

I shook the tension out of my hands, and then settled into my fighting stance. The Chief tapped my shoulder twice. Her own little way of saying ‘be careful’, which had sprouted from my Pro-Bending days. I scoffed quietly, but gave her a reassuring look. She turned to Jung, and nodded.

“Now!”

Jung pushed his hands forward, and the door was blasted in. I stomped on the ground, and the earth beneath propelled me through the doorway. Jung and Yen ran past, making a beeline for the aircraft.

Mom and I headed right. I lunged forward and reached towards the ground, awake and rumbling beneath me. It rippled and shook, then crashed against two of the guards before they even knew what hit them.

Metal cables rang out as my mom shot them at the remaining guard. He extended a metal blade and cut through the cable.

I stomped on the ground and raised a rock into the air. Mom stepped forward and kicked it squarely. The guard dove out of the way just in time, but I whirled around and slung a rock in the direction he was diving.

I let out a laugh in spite of myself. “That was fun!” I exclaimed, bouncing on my heels. Mom shot me a withering glare, and I averted my gaze sheepishly.

A yell from the airship ripped me from my embarrassment, and we both watched as the guard at the front door rushed towards it.

“You get in the aircraft, help out Jung and Yen!” Mom barked, “I’ll take care of him.”

I hesitated. “You sure, mom?” I asked a little quieter.

“Don’t worry about me, kid. Now do as I say!” She snapped. I nodded reluctantly, and made my way towards the aircraft while mom took care of the lone guard.

I bent my foreguard into a blade as I came crashing through the window of the control car. I landed with a roll, and took a half-second to see my opposition.

There were definitely more than three guards. I sighed inwardly, making a mental note to make sure I did all the seismic sensing from now on. Then I darted forward.

Fire lit up the control room while metal creaked and whined. Three guards descended on me all at once, but I had more than enough experience fighting in small spaces to take them. I bobbed and weaved around until they were all standing on the same panel of metal.

I slammed my foot into the floor, and the panel shot up, ramming all three of them into the ceiling with a collective cry.

I smirked as I bent the panel to hook onto the ceiling, and threw the guards a small wave as they struggled and squirmed.

“I’ll come back for you later,” I chimed, “You’re going to jail, by the way.” I heard one of them mutter a ‘duh’ as I left, and snickered to myself.

When I got to the main haul, Jung and Yen were finishing tying up a couple of guards. Behind them, the eight hostages (mom had gotten that number right) stood anxiously. “Are we good?” I asked.

Yen nodded. “You handle those three guys by yourself?” She asked.

I huffed. “Yeah. Thanks for helping me out.”

“We wanted to see if you could handle it,” Jung said, “Yen owes me twenty yuans. Thanks, kid.”

“Then I better get half of that,” I quickly said. This could be a nice side hustle…

I looked at the hostages, and frowned slightly. “Let’s get these people out of here.”

Metal footsteps from behind caused us all to turn. My mom looked at us oddly, and then back into the control room. “Why are there people on the ceiling?” She asked hesitantly, and looking slightly fearful for the answer.

“I’ll get ‘em off later,” I said, “Should I take these people back to the vans, Chief?”

The Chief nodded, expression quickly sobering back into seriousness. “Jung, Yen, we’re going to the main warehouse. That’s where the rest of them are holding up.”

“I’ll meet you there-” I started.

Mom swiveled her steely gaze on me. “No. You stay with the hostages. If we’re not back there in twenty minutes, call reinforcements and head back to the station,” she barked.

My stomach sank. I was being sidelined?

“Chief, I can-”

“Do as I say, rookie.”

“...Yes, ma’am.”

---

“You know Chief, she’s more than capable of holding her own,” Jung said once Aiko and the hostages had all filed out. I shot him a look, but he’d been in my service too long to waver. “Kid’s good.”

“Thank the Spirits you’re not in charge Jung, lest we have a rookie killed because you ordered her into a situation she’s not ready for,” I said. Jung raised his hands placatingly. “Squads 1 and 3 are already at the warehouse. Let’s move.”

When we got to the warehouse, we were immediately greeted by a repository turned battlefield. It seemed like everybody in the Terra Triads and their mothers had decided to show up at the port. We were soundly outnumbered.

“Chief, what do we do?” Yen yelled over the commotion.

I gritted my teeth. We needed to shut down their port operation. Not only would they have their emboldened numbers if we didn’t, but they’d have technology.

“Pick up our fallen, get them back to the vans,” I ordered, “We’ll hold it down here.” The two of them nodded, and moved to pick up the injured and unconscious. I took to covering them as they went, fending off any Terra Triad that tried to pounce them.

I shot out my metal cable at one of them, and threw him into another as he ran forward. One of them charged at me from the side, grabbing onto my midsection and pushing me back. I growled, bringing down my elbow on the back of his neck and let him slide to the floor.

I looked back at Jung and Yen, who were both hauling two men apiece on their backs. “Tell Aiko to call reinforcements!” I yelled.

“Chief!” Jung called to me. I looked at him, eyebrows raised. He smirked sardonically at me. “You were right. Sorry.” I scoffed, shaking my head.

“Of course I was right,” I replied.

With that, the two of them sprinted off. I turned back to the battlefield.

The air was heavy with loss and struggle. My officers were suffocating right now. Skilled as they were, the Terra Triads were crawling from every crack and crevice.

Well. This’ll be a lot of paperwork.

---

“Is anybody else injured?” I asked, rising to my feet once I finished wrapping one man’s arm. He’d been slashed in warning by one of the thugs. When nobody raised their voice and I didn’t see any pools of blood, I nodded resolutely.

“You’re a bit young for an officer, aren’t you?” One of them asked in a scratchy and parched voice. I turned around to face the woman that’d spoken, who smiled kindly at me.

“Maybe ma’am, but I’m pretty good,” I said, grinning brightly under my mask. I perked up at the sound of heavy footsteps, and my smile soon disappeared. Jung and Yen were both running towards the van, two injured men resting on each of their shoulders. One of them was Pao.

I hopped down from the van and quickly took Pao off of Jung’s shoulders. “What happened?” I demanded.

“I tripped,” Pao said sarcastically.

“Seriously, Pao!”

“One of those guys… ngh… caught me in my side,” he gestured to a bloody injury near his stomach.

I let out a sigh, trying to force down the twisting in my stomach. Some first mission this was turning out to be. “Alright, lay down here,” I said, settling Pao in the back of the van before starting to help Jung and Yen with the others.

Pao grabbed my wrist before I could. “Aiko,” he said gruffly, and then pausing to cough, “You gotta help her, kid.”

“Is she okay?” I demanded.

“Survivin’. For now.” And with that, he let go of my wrist. I turned towards Jung and Yen, both of them still trying to catch their breath.

“There’s too many,” Jung said shortly, “Call- huff- call reinforcements, Aiko.” I nodded, and went to the front of the van.

“Take these people back to the department. Wire them for reinforcements on the way,” I said to the driver. Once we’d loaded the other officers in, he sped off back to headquarters. I adjusted my mask on my face and started for the warehouse. “Where’re you going?” Jung asked.

“Back to the warehouse.”

He grabbed my arm as I passed by him and looked at me sternly. “The Chief ordered you to stay here.”

I wrenched my arm out of his grip furiously. Jung was only following what my mother ordered, but it felt like more of a betrayal to her than anything else. “She’s my mom, Jung!” I exclaimed.

“And it’s not your job to protect her! She's the Chief, she'll be alright,” He replied. I glared witheringly at him, but I just didn’t have the intimidation factor that my mom did. “You know why she ordered you to stay here. And so that’s what you’re going to do,” he said firmly.

Oh, like hell. “No the hell it’s not,” I snapped at him. And before he or Yen could stop me, I catapulted myself into the air, shooting a metal cable out towards the warehouse. I heard Jung call my name, but it soon faded the further I got.

If they’d really wanted to stop me, they could’ve cut my line or shot theirs out to snag me. But even Jung didn’t have the nerve to separate me from my mom.

---

Finally. The momentum had decided to sway into our favor, as we all started to become less of disciplined soldiers and more of desperate brawlers. The Triads were on their last leg, their numbers no longer multiplying endlessly. And we’d have reinforcements soon to help finish the job.

But I hadn’t been able to get through scot-free. I was fighting on a limp now, doing more hobbling and shuffling than I was swinging and attacking. I’d landed on my ankle wrong after two of the more adept fighters of the Triads had ganged up on me.

I grimaced as pain shot up through my ankle while I weaved around an attack, the pain dull but biting even through the adrenaline. I could only imagine what kind of hell it was going to feel like once the dust settled.

We were pushing back, but we weren’t winning. My men were still dropping off like flies. If we didn’t get those reinforcements soon, then I was going to be suffering much more than a twisted ankle.

The injury proved to be too much of a hindrance, slowing me down just a tick. And just a tick was all my opponent needed to slam me with a rock, wailing me across the warehouse and into the wall. I let out a loud cry as something in my shoulder cracked, and I sank to the floor in pain.

“Oh, well that’s just great,” I muttered to myself through gritted teeth.

“Damn,” the thug wheezed as he approached me, “I’m gonna get to tell the boss I took down Chief Beifong. Wasn’t all that hard, either.” He laughed victoriously to himself.

“I’m not through,” I growled at him as I stumbled to my feet. I must’ve looked pitiful.

Slowly, I tried to raise my hands in a defensive stance. When my right shoulder roared at the effort, I let it drop uselessly with a growl, and was left to hold up only a single fist. I’d figure a way to make it work. I had to.

Or… maybe not.

I watched- rather dumbly- as a flash of black and gold bulleted at the thug, tackling him to the ground with an angry cry. I looked up in relief to see fresh reinforcements start to flood in, but then back at the initial attacker. And I nearly had a brain aneurysm.

Aiko. She had the Terra Triad pinned beneath her now, forgetting (or maybe rejecting) her bending in favor of bloodying her own fists. She rained punches down mercilessly on his mug, and when he reached weakly to stop her, she picked up his face and slammed him back into the floor.

“Aiko!” I snapped, limping towards her. She continued her beatdown, teeth bared and eyes wide. I hurried over and yanked her away from the now-unconscious body. “That’s enough, rookie,” I said. She pushed against me, but I was still a little stronger than her. But I let out a wince as I stepped back on my bad ankle.

It was then that Aiko finally saw me. “Mama,” she said worriedly, catching me as I stumbled.

“You disobeyed my orders,” I grumbled weakly.

“But-”

“There's no but's about it, Aiko,” I snapped, even as she helped me out of the warehouse. I looked around to see the remaining stragglers being quickly neutralized by our more energized forces. I let out a sigh. This wasn't feeling like much of a win. “I shouldn't have brought you on this mission.”

“If you hadn't, you'd be dead right now.”

I was too livid to answer her. So what if I'd died? I was the Chief of Police, it wasn't her job to worry about my welfare. It was the other way around.

For Spirits’ sake, the kid was only seventeen. Even younger than I'd been when I first started out. Maybe she was good. Maybe she was talented. But she was a child. My child.

“Mama. Mama, look, I'm… sorry,” she said. I could hear her voice straining with the apology. The typical Beifong pride.

I shook my head. “I'll chew you out later, trust me. For now,” I let out a pained groan, “Get me back to the department.”

---

SLAM!

I let out a sigh as the door shut behind Aiko (who I’d just finished my promised chewing out with), pinching my brow with my good arm. The healer was still working on my ankle.

She shot a questioning look towards the door, then back to me. “She's very strong for her age,” she commented. When I gave her a look, she added, “Carrying you all the way up here by herself like she did.”

I hummed half heartedly. “Sure. But she's about as stubborn as five earthbenders in one,” I quipped.

The healer chuckled easily, and I shot her a glare that would've been more intense if she wasn't responsible for my wellbeing. “If I were you, I'd be grateful to have a daughter that cared so deeply for me. They're not usually so unconcerned with themselves at that age,” she said.

“I don't need your advice on parenthood, thank you,” I snapped, “I'd like to have my ankle healed, my shoulder repositioned, and to get the hell out of here.”

The healer didn't look the least bit phased. Was I losing my edge? It was probably the kid’s fault. “She's a good kid, Chief Beifong. Maybe a little reckless, but there are worse things.”

I stayed silent. It wasn't like I could disagree with the healer. Aiko really was remarkable. So much so that someone on the outside might even be able to rightfully say a parent’s worry was unwarranted.

And yet, here we were.

“She's my- she's a rookie,” I said, “She made a call that was explicitly against my orders. Hell. I should have her fired for insubordination.”

The healer laughed merrily. “According to your tirade from earlier, it sounded like a simple case of a protective mother and her stubbornly heroic child,” she replied, “I think it's sweet.”

I let out a loud huff in reply. This… this was the price of letting my kid become a cop. Yet another layer of worry atop the whole damn cake. And it was the thickest of them all.

Aiko was good. But I just knew this was going to bite me in the ass sooner or later. It'd been me that took the brunt of it tonight. But only the Spirits know what I'd do if- when- Aiko would suffer down the line.

---

The back door of the department screeched as I opened it, and stepped back out into the chilled air of Republic City. I checked my watch. It was almost three in the morning now, but long nights of the winter were going to keep any brightness away for a long while. And I was still too jittery from the mission to feel the exhaustion yet.

I kicked a pebble and scuffed the sole of my shoe as I stood at the edge of the sidewalk. I then closed my eyes and focused on the city sounds (which never faded, in a town that was perpetually awake). Mom always told me to do that whenever I wanted to calm down.

Mom. My stomach sank, and so did I to the edge of the sidewalk. Slamming the door like that back there would've warranted a deserving ass-beating from any less merciful (or injured) parent. I let out a sigh.

“I expect better from you.”

Her words, filled with all their sharpness and spite, kept echoing in my head.

“Ugh…” I muttered to myself, cradling my face in my hands.

No matter what mom said or how disappointed she was, I didn't regret what I did one bit. But a simple ‘thank you’ would've been nice. Would've been more than nice, actually. I was starting to wonder what it was gonna take for those two words.

“Hey, Beifong? That you?” A voice further up the sidewalk called.

I perked up, taking my face out of my hands. “Yeah?” I called back at the silhouette. As the figure walked forward, I realized that it was Koru, one of the guys from my graduating class. He was working in communications. “Hey, Koru.”

“Hey,” he replied, waving at me with a hand that contained a telegram, “This just got wired over to the station. It's for you.”

I took the message with a knowing smile. “Thanks a lot,” I said.

“No problem.”

As he walked away, I turned my attention back to the telegram. In bold letters near the top left corner, SUYIN BEIFONG was etched into the paper.

I was still smiling brightly. The last telegram I’d gotten from my aunt had been almost a month ago, after my graduation. I quickly got to reading it.

Dear Aiko,

I hope you're doing well! Your cousins and your Uncle Baatar all say hello, and urge you to come visit as soon as you can. Ever since they saw you in the papers, the kids have been wanting to meet you. They think you're a celebrity! To which I told them you might as well be.

I chuckled quietly. I made a mental note to write her back and ask her to ask Junior to start writing me too. We were the same age, and Aunt Su made it out to seem we'd get along well.

How is your mom? I would ask you to tell her I wish her the best, but I wouldn't want to invoke her wrath upon you.

You’re so much like her yet so different, you know. Admittedly, you have a little bit of me in you (don't tell your mom that, though), but you deciding to follow in the footsteps of your mother just screams Lin. Which reminds me to tell you to be careful, please. You’re stubborn and strong-willed (a Beifong trademark), but don't let that be a disservice to you. Your work is very dangerous.

Which is why I hope that you went into the force with your heart invested in it alongside your body. Lin might say otherwise, but I know better. She didn't become a cop because she loved it, but because she wanted to please our mother.

Do what's best for you. If that means being a cop, then by all means, continue. But if you feel the need to escape, then do so. I highly recommend traveling.

Heh. Of course she'd recommend traveling.

Remember, you'll always be welcome to Zaofu. Lin as well, though she might not appreciate that as much. Give her a hard time for me please, since I'm not around to do it myself.

Sending you all the hugs and kisses from your second home,

Aunt Su

PS: Your birthday gift should arrive within the week of your special day. I hope you like it.

I folded the telegram and tucked it into my coat, feeling significantly more warmed up now. I looked up at the sky, bluish-grey with all the Republic City lights it had to reflect. But just a few stars made it through, and peeked and winked at me.

“Thanks, auntie,” I whispered with a small chuckle, “And don't worry, I'll give her the hardest time.”

My aunt was the matriarch of the Metal Clan in Zaofu, a city near the Earth Kingdom made entirely of metal. I knew her face from pictures in mom’s photo album. But something about the way mom looked at that album made me decide against asking about my mysterious aunt and grandma. And so I did my own research. Of course, it didn't take much looking. And Aunt Su had been over the moon elated when I'd sent her my first telegram.

That was three years ago now. Since then, she'd sent me telegrams and pictures religiously, but I always had to make sure I got to the errand boy before mom could. This familial correspondence was my best kept secret.

I stroked my chin as I started to contemplate what my birthday gift could possibly be. If she sent me a meteorite, I was going to freak out- mom probably would too.

I grimaced. Hopefully it was something more subtle, something that wouldn't become a noticeable new decoration in my room.

“Kid, what are you doing out here? It's freezing,” a voice from behind me said. I hadn't even heard the door open.

I looked back to see my mom, who was limping only slightly as she moved to stand next to me. I held my hand subconsciously to my coat, the telegram crumpling quietly. “Mama, you alright?” I asked. She waved me off before handing me one of the coffees she was holding. “Thanks,” I said, and practically chugged it in my gratefulness. I let out a sigh as the black coffee flowed down and warmed my stomach.

With a tired sigh, mom shifted to sit on the curb next to me. We drank our coffee in comfortable silence, simply appreciating the peace.

Damn. This was gonna be life now. Gang raids and near-death situations were going to be weekly. And the paperwork. I let out a groan, not all too excited about coming into work tomorrow- or rather, in five hours.

“Something the matter?” Mom asked.

I shook my head. “Nah. Just tired. I just… can't believe this is my life now,” I replied.

Mom gave me a look I couldn't quite decipher. “You know, you… you did well today. In spite of blatantly disregarding my orders.” I blinked wide-eyed at her. She turned away from me with a growl. “Don't look at me like that, kid. That's the highest compliment you're going to receive from me until you straighten out.”

I smiled sheepishly, before resting my elbows tiredly on my knees. “Hey, uh, Chief… I’m sorry,” I said, she cocked a brow at me.

“You already apologized.”

“No, I'm sorry for giving you an attitude in the med wing. I get it, I'm a rookie, I'm just not ready yet-”

“That's not-” mom stopped herself short with a sigh, brows pulled in almost angrily. I looked off to the side in guilt.

The guys in the special corps said I was remarkable. A talent. Hell, dare some of them say the best since my own mom. But what'd any of that mean if the Chief herself didn't believe it?

“Look, kid. This work, it's dangerous,” she said sternly, drawing my gaze back to her, “No matter how hard I try, I lose at least one of my men every year. This city’s a breeding ground for crime. If something were to happen to you, I don't know what I'd-” she stopped herself short, and I caught a rare glimpse of vulnerability nobody else saw from my mom but me.

I leaned towards her earnestly. “Mom, you know I can handle this. I was the product of all that before you found me!” I saw her flinch at that statement, eyes twitching ever so slightly. But I didn't waver. “I just…” I sighed stubbornly. “I just wanna help you, okay?” I said softly, “I know you're gonna tell me you don't need my help, but you can't be the best forever. Somebody’s gotta look out for you.”

Mom’s gaze shifted from troubled to- well, maybe a little less troubled.

“Is that why you gave up Pro-Bending? To help me?” She asked.

I cringed a little. A part of me would always yearn to go back to the game, back to where everything was a little more humble, with the highest stake not being a life, but a loss. Where fighting was for glory, not for justice.

I felt a little out of touch without it, like I was without that balance mom had always told me was so important for an earthbender. But the reason for my exit far outweighed the pit in my stomach. I was going to stand by my mom no matter where it took me.

“It's not important, mom.”

“Aiko-”

“Look, can we go home? I'm really tired. And we've gotta come back in like, five hours,” I said.

She scrutinized me for one extremely terrifying moment, but eventually found that she was too tired to hold onto the subject as well. With a resigned nod, she held her hand out to me, pulling me up with her from the curb.

As we walked towards the parking lot, she wrapped an arm tightly around my shoulders.

“You're a good kid, Aiko. I'm lucky to have you.”

“Heh. Thanks, mama.”

That was more than I’d been expecting to hear that night.

---

And that’s a 6000+ word sh**storm wrapped up right there. Sheesh. And it was out almost a week after I’d promised to put it out, jc. I’ll try to have part 2 up by next week, here’s to hoping it’s much better! Regardless, I hope u enjoyed this, or at least enjoyed making fun of it. If you have any tips or things you’d like to see in the story, pls let me know! :3

tags: (small gang but i like it :D) @themost-obsessivefangirl @inter-net

#lin beifong #mom!lin beifong #oc:#aiko beifong #the chief's kid #legend of korra #lok

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denyingmyselfalways · 4 years

Text

you can trick my mind but you can’t infect my soul

Set before Avengers Age of Ultron

Manhattan, New York. Present Day.

It was a typical Wednesday morning. Pepper made him get up at 7:04 to attend one of his drawling meetings, was forced to eat breakfast, and was restricted to two coffees. He was up and out of the meeting room as soon as it was over, making some snide remark in response to questioning. And then he was free. Free from responsibilities and anxieties for the day until three in the afternoon for another pointless meeting.

Tony scrubbed his face with one hand, the other sporting his second coffee. He needed to get out. Out of the stifling Tower with its facilitated air and important businessmen. As much as the Tower was a work of art, even Tony Stark needed a breath of fresh air every once in a while.

He wandered to the elevator and told FRIDAY to take him to the ground floor. The tiny vibrations beneath his feet kept him grounded, and he closed his eyes just for a moment to gather his thoughts and just breathe. It had been a while since he’d had enough time to do that.

The elevator doors opened, and Tony made his way to the exit, waving off any of his employees who questioned if he was supposed to be somewhere or if he would be safe.

He was Iron Man. He’d be fine.

Queens, New York. Ten Years Ago.

Peter’s brain couldn’t process what was going on. There was red in his vision, and people in black running around everywhere, and his father, his dead father laying on the ground in front of him. He felt as if he should be crying, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to tears. Instead, he just felt numb, as if the coldness of death had gripped him too.

Peter’s legs went out, his knees hit the ground, and his small, six-year-old hand reached out to grab his father’s. He was inches away from contact when a hand grabbed the collar of his shirt and yanked him back.

And then the world went black.

Present Day.

Something wasn’t right. Tony could taste it in the air. Perhaps years of being Iron Man had trained him to be more alert. Perhaps it was years of being under a target for his money and fame. Perhaps the two spies he was friends with had rubbed off on him. He didn’t know what it was that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up, but it made him uneasy.

Tony, waiting on a street corner for the crosswalk to turn, checked his watch, reaching his other hand up as if to adjust it. Instead, he tapped its surface and woke up FRIDAY. The lens of his glasses lit up with his interface, but he didn’t have the suit on him, only his glasses and a wristwatch.

He murmured for her to check his surroundings for any suspicious activity. With all the people around, she couldn’t pinpoint anything, but Tony was still uneasy. He felt like he was being watched. And not the awed kind of watched he’d gotten used to from being famous.

His jaw clenched as the light turned and the crosswalk opened. He walked swiftly across, made his way down a block, and ducked into a deserted alley. It smelled like used socks and sewage, but he didn’t acknowledge the environment as he double-tapped the watch and pulled the Iron Gauntlet over his hand.

The world seemed to still for a moment.

Tony’s gaze switched from one end of the alleyway to the other, his ears straining to hear footsteps amongst the madness of the city.

But no footsteps came.

Ten Years Ago.

The world focused a few particles at a time. Peter heard a groan and realized it had come from his mouth. He felt his eyes blink once, twice, three times, but his vision cleared no faster.

His head felt heavy.

He wanted to fall back asleep, but he forced himself to shake his head. He squeezed his eyes tight and popped them open and finally he could make out his surroundings. He was laying in a single bed in a small, windowless room.

He was alone.

Peter sat, up, rubbing his face with his hands and trying to remember.

There had been people, loud bangs, and then his parents…

The tears that had not come before, sprang into his eyes.

His parents, Mary and Richard Parker were dead. They had just been out for ice cream. His parents had created something big, something they’d told Peter he wouldn’t understand. He didn’t really care, he just wanted ice cream.

They were leaving the parlor when the first bang went off. His mother dropped to the ground.

He heard his father screaming, but his mother, struggling to breathe had told them to run, to go.

So his father scooped him into his arms and had run.

The second bang went off and the world turned upside down as Richard fell and then… and then…

Peter was still trying to figure out that part.

The door creaked open.

Peter scrubbed his eyes, trying to hide the tears as a tall, elderly woman stepped into the room.

“Hello, Peter Parker.”

He managed a wobbly, “Hello.”

She smiled tightly, but the smile didn’t hold warmth. “We are great fans of your father’s work.”

Peter said nothing, too afraid and upset to respond.

The woman straightened. “I am very sorry about your parents.”

Peter curled into himself a little. “C-can I go home now?”

The woman’s tight, unwelcoming smile returned. “Oh, Peter. This is your new home.”

Peter’s eyes widened, his whole body tensing. “Where… where is here?”

“Well Mr. Parker, this is the Red Room.”

Present Day.

Still shaken from his earlier paranoia, Tony made his way back to the Tower as fast as he could. Earlier the fresh air had felt freeing, but now he just felt exposed. He wanted the safety of his suits and his tower and the presence of Pepper Potts.

He walked straight through the entrance of the Tower and took the elevator all the way to the penthouse before he allowed himself a breath of relief. He was safe. He was home.

However, the adrenaline slipping away also took his distraction, and the anxieties of his life returned.

He collapsed into his desk chair and put his head in his hands. Nightmares, Ultron, Pepper. All fresh wounds. The nightmares were returning, Ultron was his fault, and Pepper was leaving. Maybe. Probably.

He was alone, he was alone, he was alone.

The Avengers were no longer at the Tower, Rhodey was off being a Colonial, and Pepper. He shouldn’t cry because Stark men were made of iron and Stark men didn’t cry. Tony must not be made of iron.

He needed her. But he blew it.

His whole body trembled as he held in his tears. He’d hoped getting out today would help but all it did was distract him for a moment. In the end, it would always come back to Pepper.

Something shifted in the air.

Tony felt it again. The hair on the back of his neck rose, his shoulders tensed, his eyes began darting around the room. His ears had picked up on a shuffling. An almost-imperceptible shuffling in the vents.

“FRIDAY?” Tony chirped as if he hadn’t just been holding back tears, as if he hadn’t a care in the world. “Be a dear and make sure our ventilation system is clear. The air is feeling a bit stuffy.”

Before she could even respond, the vent in the ceiling burst open and a masked figure in an all-black bodysuit landed on all fours. Tony blinked, stumbling up out of his chair and calling out for FRIDAY to dispatch his suit, but the man in black ran to the window, barreled straight through, it and fell out of view. Tony sprinted towards the opening, looking down for a corpse landed on the pavement, but there was no body, living or dead.

Tony stumbled backward, scrubbing at his eyes. “FRIDAY, am I seeing things?”

“All visuals are down, boss.”

Tony frowned. “Excuse me?”

“My video feed has been completely disabled.”

“Why didn’t you alert me?”

“You told me not to.”

Tony’s frowned deepened, but when the reality of the situation hit him, he sighed and plunked down in his desk. “FRIDAY, get Pepper up here. Tell her we have a situation.”

“Yes, boss.”

A beat of silence.

“May I ask what kind of situation?”

Tony chuckled humorlessly, shaking his head as he picked up his phone to make some calls. “Well Fri, you’ve been hacked.”

Ten Years Ago.

Peter’s footsteps echoed in the dim hallway. The woman leading him hadn’t said a word since they’d left the room, and Peter was feeling more and more anxious. The longer they walked, the more Peter’s chest ached with a loss he didn’t quite understand. He didn’t know where he was going, or who was now taking care of him, or where his parents really were. He just wanted to go home.

The woman stopped abruptly next to a door and turned to unlock it. Peter shivered, terrified of what lay beyond.

The door opened seamlessly, and the woman looked at Peter expectantly.

“Well,” she said when he didn’t move. “Go on.”

Peter took a few tentative steps forward, before freezing in the door frame. It was a small room, with a single chair in the center and a man in the corner hunched over a table.

“Master Mikhailov, this is Peter Parker.”

The man turned around, and Peter tensed. But the man wasn’t hideous or creepy or anything that Peter had expected. He was just a normal-looking, middle-aged man.

The man smiled at Peter, but it felt as warm as the woman’s smile had. “Hello, Peter. I am Master Mikhailov.”

Peter said nothing, only blinked back in response.

The man’s gaze hardened, and he turned back to messing with the items on his table. “Come in,” he ordered, his voice had no give to it.

The woman turned on her heel and walked swiftly back down the hallway, leaving Peter with very little choice in the matter. He took a slow step inside, still unsure.

“Sit,” Master Mikhailov commanded, his back still facing Peter. Peter trudged to the chair and plunked down into it. “We’re just going to do a little medical procedure, make sure your body’s in prime physical condition.”

Peter tried to listen, he really did, but his memories kept pulling at his skull. His brain dragged him back to his parents and his city and his friends and his home and how this was not home. This was terrifying and nothing about this place felt right. His eyes began to water, and Peter sniffed, trying so hard to keep his composure. He didn’t want to cry in front of people that did not seem at all friendly, but his eyes refused to dry at the thought of living here, with these people that had no words of kindness or softness in their smiles.

The master came to stand in front of him and clicked his tongue. “Ah mister Peter we cannot have crying, now can we?”

Peter scrubbed his fists in his eyes, trying to hide his vulnerability. “I want my mom!”

“Your mother is gone, Peter.” The master said, no sympathy in his voice. “Hold out your wrist for me, please.”

Peter did, not looking up at the man. “I want to go home,” he murmured, his tears beginning to diminish before he really wanted them to. Now that he’d begun letting out his emotions, he didn’t want to stop. “I want my dad.”

Something soft brushed against his arm.

“Oh, Peter, didn’t Madame B tell you? This is your new home.”

A tickling sensation made Peter’s gaze snap up at his wrist a second before the spider sitting on it sunk its fangs into his skin.

Present Day.

The Wolf Spider hung upside down by a single thread, twisting through the air silently. His eyes were closed, his senses open to the bank and the people bustling beneath him. The businessmen and women were too preoccupied with their little nothings to glance upward and see his dark form. He listened beneath his mask without saying a word.

He shouldn’t have been caught. He should’ve been more careful. Stupid Tony Stark and his paranoia. If only he’d been better. If only he’d been quieter. There were a thousand if only’s but he couldn’t focus on the past now, he could only focus on this next mission and going back and fixing it. He couldn’t have another person hurt because he failed.

His eyes snapped open and his pupils dilated as the hair across his arms rippled. He could feel it. The presence of an insect buzzing its way towards his delicate web of death and carnation.

The insect in question was a balding man with the navy suit and the dark gray suitcase making his way towards the teller’s desk. The Wolf Spider, holding onto his thread with one hand, raised the other to his mouth and yanked the switch on his wristbands with his teeth. He raised his wrist to eye-level and aimed with his now activated kill switch. His hand began to tremble as the target and the weapon matched up.

He growled at himself and shook it out. He’d killed before. He could do it again.

But this man is innocent, a small voice in the back of his head whispered.

“So were my parents,” Peter murmured to himself, took aim again, and fired.

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pip25 · 4 years

Text

Refuge - A Lina/Xelloss fanfic

Hi there! This is a small companion fic written for the the April prompt of @slayersweek, a prequel of sorts to my main fanfiction story, “Slayers - Order in Chaos”. Knowledge of that fic is (hopefully) not necessary to understand most of what’s going on. Hope you’ll enjoy! :)

It was definitely not the average summer downpour.

The wind howled like an army of restless ghosts, while innumerable flashes of lightning turned dusk into noon for several seconds at a time. Not much could be seen, however; obscuring all sight beyond a couple of steps, the rain poured with a ferocious intensity that would give even seasoned adventurers pause.

Watching the storm vent its rage over the jagged mountainside, Lina Inverse found herself to be no exception, despite having over a hundred years of experience under her belt.

They had to consider themselves extremely lucky, having managed to find shelter moments before the rainfall went entirely out of control. The rock alcove the two of them had stumbled upon had its entrance opposite the wind’s direction and it seemed like no water could get inside from above either.

On the other hand, their hiding place was, to put it mildly, incredibly small. A far cry from anything that could be considered a cave, the alcove was barely high enough for the average person to stand, and had just enough surface area to fit a single bed. It was enclosed by cold, uneven rock on three sides, and a low stone wall on the fourth; beyond that, there was nothing but rain and wind.

“Well, I think we will be safe here for a while,” the sorceress said, turning away from the storm to look at her companion. “I doubt we’ll be going anywhere before tomorrow morning though, so… we might as well set up camp.”

She loosened a clasp below her neck, reached over her shoulder with one hand and took off her cloak.

“Here, hold onto this for a sec.” Despite her dangling the piece of clothing in front of him, the dark-haired man remained motionless, his face turned in the direction of the rain as he leant against the stone wall. “Um, hello…! Urgent message from the Material Plane to Xelloss! Please respond…!”

“Oh, my apologies,” the priest dismissed his staff from existence and grabbed the cloak with both hands around its shoulder line. “I was looking for any alternative accommodations nearby, but regrettably came up empty-handed.” He cocked his head to the side. “There does not seem to be much we can set up here, I’m afraid.”

“That’s what you think,” Lina smiled mysteriously. “Watch me turn this tiny jail cell into a high-class inn in no time.”

Now that she could use two hands, the sorceress removed her gloves and shoulder guards as well, then started rummaging through the countless magical pockets of her cloak with dizzying speed. She first retrieved a bedroll and laid it down; it fit the available room on the stone floor almost perfectly, leaving only a tiny bit of space at Xelloss’ feet. Next came a thick blanket, then a notebook, a wooden case about the size of a deck of cards, two large sacks of nuts and jerky, and finally a waterskin, still half-full.

Putting the case, the snacks and the waterskin next to the pillow section of the bedroll, Lina hopped down on the opposite end, threw her boots into the corner next to the priest, then crawled under the blanket.

“There! A cozy little alcove, in more ways than one.” Her head reappeared on the other side, soon to be joined by her right hand which flung a piece of jerky into her mouth. “Sure, the floor isn’t exactly soft, but from what I’ve heard that’s good for your back. Really, if it wasn’t for the fact that it’s out here in the middle of nowhere, I’d be shocked that people aren’t charging money for this.”

“It may indeed look comfortable, but I would not call it especially warm, even now in late summer,” Xelloss mused. “The weather being as it is, you might run into trouble by the early morning hours, even with that blanket on.”

Hardly appreciative of his warning, the sorceress folded her arms and stuck her tongue out at him. “Fine, be that way, you doomsayer. Remind me to gloat about how wrong you were in the morning.”

With that, she immersed herself in her late dinner. The food looked plenty, more than sufficient for four or five ordinary travelers; but Lina Inverse was quite far from ordinary, and for her it was just enough to get by until tomorrow. Unwilling to let that dampen her mood or to give her companion any more openings, she resolved herself to do something she rarely did: eat slowly, try to savor each bite, so her rations would last longer.

However, being accustomed to a meal requiring her full attention (to keep the plates, silverware and food from flying all over the place), she now found herself easily sidetracked; her gaze kept jumping back to the priest, who still stood there with his back against a wall, unmoving, as if he had become part of the makeshift room’s furniture somehow.

An unsettling thought ran through her head: she once saw him standing in the exact same spot for an entire night at the edge of a cliff, gazing into the distance.

This time there was no cliff edge, and he was not staring into the unknown – but at her.

“Um, Xelloss, don’t you want to sit down or something?” she asked. The prospect of him staying like that until morning – she had to admit, it creeped her out quite a bit. At least if he lowered himself to the floor, the whole thing would become less obvious.

The mazoku looked down at his feet. “I’d be glad to, but with so little room I fear I’d be sitting on you instead of the ground… unless…” He snapped his fingers. “Ah, here’s an idea!”

His body started floating upwards as if submerged in water, and a few seconds later he was waving cheerfully at the sorceress from above – sitting cross-legged upside-down on the rugged ceiling.

“What do you think? An imaginative solution, don’t you agree?”

Lina’s head plopped down weakly on the cushion. “Oh gods, this is even worse!”

“But why? I am sitting, am I not?” Xelloss looked at her like she had refused to accept that one plus one did in fact equal two.

“That’s not the issue here! It’s… uh…” the sorceress stammered. Explaining the problem to her companion felt like willingly inviting a terrible headache. “Geez, just come down from there already!”

The priest shrugged, lowered himself from the ceiling – and began floating halfway between that and the floor, seemingly lying on his stomach in the air just above her.

“Any better?” he asked, relaxing with both hands behind his head.

The sorceress hid her face in her hand. “Two words: Hell no.”

What seemed like genuine disappointment spread through Xelloss’ features.

“I… see.” he muttered with a pout. “Well, if you feel so strongly about this, I suppose I can simply withdraw to the Astral Plane for the time being…”

With a sigh, his projection blurred, then disappeared.

The sorceress frowned. She was quick to remind herself that he probably said all that just to make her feel guilty about driving him out of their shelter, at least in the physical sense. Being the annoying person he is, Xelloss cared nothing of the fact that she had several good reasons for doing so. Very good reasons.

To her even greater annoyance, however, this knowledge brought no change to the outcome: she did feel somewhat bad about it.

She looked around frantically in the alcove, but the priest was right: there simply was not enough room for him on the floor… with one possible exception. An exception he did not point out, and it was painfully obvious to her why.

In utter disbelief that she would even consider this, Lina rolled her eyes… and patted the bedroll beside her.

“Hey, Xelloss… I… guess you could fit under the blanket…”

She barely had the time to withdraw her hand, and the mazoku was already there, his head sticking out from beneath the thick fabric, his grin bigger than ever.

“My, Lina-san, aren’t you being bold this evening?”

Lina figured the two of them would not have much room next to each other, but it was far worse than she thought: the priest’s right arm was already bumping into her own.

“There’s absolutely nothing ‘bold’ going on here, capiche?” Her words sounded like she wanted to convince herself just as much as her companion. “You’re the one who said it’s going to get cold later on. Well, luckily for me, your projection has plenty of body heat you don’t need, so consider that your price of admission. Now, put your hands where I can see them.”

The priest raised a provocative eyebrow. “What exactly are you suggesting I would do with my—”

“Your hands where I can see them. Right. Now. Or I might really start entertaining some bold thoughts, like dragon-slaving you from under the covers.”

Xelloss obediently slid further up towards the wall behind his head, revealing his hands, arms and shoulder line; while he was still wearing gloves, his cloak and sack seemed to have disappeared.

More than eager to close the book on the previous conversation topic, the sorceress moved towards the edge of the bedroll to get at least a few inches of distance between them, then grabbed the wooden case next to the near-empty sacks of food. After a couple of botched attempts, it yielded its contents.

“…Glasses, Lina-san?” The priest seemed so surprised, his eyes fluttered open for a second.

“Yep, I need these to read my notes.” After levitating a ball of light to just below the low ceiling, she retrieved the booklet and opened it around the middle. Adjusting the tiny rimless frame on her nose, she scanned the seemingly empty page – but turned to the mazoku immediately afterwards. “Go on, say it.”

“Say what exactly?” Xelloss replied, wearing his best ‘I’m going to play dumb and there’s nothing you can do about it’ expression.

The Lighting spell at the ceiling suddenly became very interesting to Lina for some reason. “Well, me cooped up under the blanket, reading a book with these glasses on… makes me look like some old lady, doesn’t it?”

The priest scrutinized her features for several long moments. “Hmm… I don’t think I see much of a difference.”

Her shoulders drooped. “Oh. Too bad.“ She glanced back in Xelloss’ direction. “…What? I am an old lady, you know. It’s great being the irresistible ageless beauty and all, but is it so bad that I sometimes wish I could look the part a bit more?”

He raised both hands in a gesture of denial. “Not at all… though countless women and men less than half your age would want to have your head, Lina-san, if they could hear of this.”

The sorceress let loose a dangerous-sounding snicker. “Let them have it… if they can take it.” She turned a page back in her notebook, which seemed just as empty as the one before. “I don’t think I’ve ever been a pushover, but if this pans out… their odds might just get a tiny bit worse. As in a snowball’s chance in hell.”

His eyebrows soaring upwards with curiosity, Xelloss slid closer to her to take a peek; she was about to pull her notebook away from him when her body froze up, almost as if struck by a surge of electricity. But to her embarrassment, it was no attack magic – merely the priest’s shoulder-length hair brushing the tip of her ears.

“Ah, invisible ink! No wonder you need special glasses to look at the pages,” he marveled.

“And of course, you don’t. Why am I not surprised?” Lina grumbled, but the mazoku’s curiosity was starting to rub off on her. “So…? You’d better be amazed; you’ve been given the honor of being the first person ever to see my ground-breaking, top secret research project.”

Xelloss’ eyes opened ever so slightly, and the previously invisible paragraphs and diagrams started to glow on the pages with a faint bluish light. “This appears to be fundamental magic theory for holy spells…” his eyes opened further, “…cast in the human language.”

The sorceress broke out in a smug grin. “Pretty fancy stuff, isn’t it? Holy magic’s been around for almost a century now, so you’d think someone would’ve done this ages ago, but nope. Some lunatics wanted to learn the golden dragons’ language instead! Theyiiii—”

She desperately bit back a yelp as the priest leaned forward, and the hair on the back of his head tickled its way down along her neck. “…Uh… Long story short… I don’t want to brag, but I think I’ve really outdone myself this time.”

Her companion did not respond immediately; his eyes seemed to be glued to the notebook in thought.

“Is this the most recent version of your theory, Lina-san?” he finally spoke. “Because, if I may be blunt, these numbers appear to be grossly inaccurate.”

“…H-Huh?” She leaned forward as well; their faces were basically touching from the side, but she was too upset to pull away at that point. “What do you mean ‘inaccurate’?! Look here, it makes total sense! I’ve been doing some experiments to boot, and it all works!”

Xelloss’ smile was as warm and understanding as it was insincere. “But of course. And if you intend to restrict yourself to the holy equivalent of that Lighting spell above our heads, this will do just fine. If you wish to go anywhere beyond that, however… I’m afraid it’s not even close.”

After those words, it came as little surprise when Lina’s left arm circled around his neck and pulled him into a headlock, one that could have been much more fierce if it weren’t for the fact that the limited room required her to basically hug the priest to her chest.

“And what do you know about holy magic, huh? Huh?!” she yelled, her flushed cheeks just making her even more angry. “You’re not going to play the ‘age-old mystical being’ card on me this time, Mr. Know-it-All! The power of the gods did not come anywhere near the peninsula when you were prancing around during the last thousand years!”

The priest reached up, his left hand resting casually on her elbow as if her throttling truly was little more than an affectionate embrace.

“You wouldn’t believe how many holy spells I’ve found in Claire Bible manuscripts, Lina-san. I know much more about such magic than what I suppose would be appropriate for a mazoku of my stature,” he added jokingly. “It likely also helps that I speak the language of the golden dragons without difficulty; once you understand how they think, the fundamentals of their spells aren’t that hard to grasp.”

Her arm slowly relaxed around his neck.

“Okay, if you’re that sure of yourself… then prove it,” she said simply. “Tell me what the right numbers are, and maybe I’ll believe you.”

His hand ascended further, and he waggled an index finger in front of her face.

“A respectable attempt to bait me, I admit, but surely you realize that those numbers are a se—” Chomp. “Um… Would you mind not eating my finger?”

Ignoring his plea, the sorceress started chewing instead. “No, dheir nyot a decret!” With a look of displeasure, she finally released both his finger and his neck. “Bleh!… Seriously Xelloss, why don’t we try something new for a change? This is important, valuable info, I get it; but I don’t think Zellas specifically ordered you not to reveal it to anyone. So how about we try to make a deal? There’s no harm in seeing if there’s anything worthwhile I can offer you in exchange.”

Still well within the boundaries of her personal space, the mazoku’s eyes opened once more. “I can’t help but repeat myself: you really are quite bold this evening, Lina-san.”

She tried to move her head further back, but immediately felt her hair touch the unforgiving stone wall behind her. “Uh, let me rephrase that: I’m talking about an exchange of information, okay?”

As if on cue, Xelloss’ expression morphed into the friendliest one imaginable. “Naturally! What else could you have possibly been referring to just now…?” Apparently satisfied by the murderous look she sent his way, he let the topic drop. “In all seriousness though, while I find your proposition intriguing, I don’t see what you could offer me that would be of similar value to the human race discovering an entirely new form of magic… especially if we restrict the exchange to nothing but information.”

With unhurried movements, Lina put her glasses back into their case, and when she looked at the priest again, her lips curled into a smirk that matched his perfectly.

“Come on, don’t disappoint me like that,” she spoke in a low, soft voice. “I’d come up with the right numbers by myself eventually; no need to blow this out of proportion. Meanwhile, here I am, ready to answer any and all questions you could possibly have, and after all we’ve been through, you really can’t think of even one thing you’d like to ask?”

The mazoku propped himself up on an elbow, his other hand touching his chin in contemplation. “Any and all, you say…? That would be tempting… if it weren’t for the severe restrictions I feel I’d nonetheless have to uphold if I wanted to keep our little shelter here in one piece.”

Now it was the sorceress’ turn to lean closer to her companion.

“You don’t have to. If I get wet, it’s my loss,” she whispered, her tone dead serious. “Try me.”

His smile widened, a flash of lightning illuminating his face at the exact same moment, making the sight even less comforting.

“If you so wish. Assuming that I’d agree to this arrangement, my first question would be this: eighty-seven years ago, the five of us were travelling through the Kathoman islands at the southern part of the ocean.” Lina’s eyebrows twitched with discomfort. “One night I was called away on unrelated business, and when I returned in the morning, I found both you and Gourry-san looking like you did not get a minute of sleep, while Amelia-san informed me that the two of you did not get back until dawn. I never found out why; in fact, even years later, the mere mention of the incident sent you into a bout of embarrassed rage.” He put a gloved hand on her trembling fist which dug into the blanket like she was hanging on to it for dear life. “Would you be willing to explain exactly what happened that night?”

Speaking through gritted teeth, it took all of the sorceress’ willpower not to snap. “If that’s what you want to hear, fine,” she hissed. “Do we have a deal?”

Her reply visibly took the mazoku by surprise. “…Perhaps, but hold on, I’ve yet to state my terms in full. I’d like to ask you five questions; this is the first one. If you refuse to answer any of them, or I have reason to believe that you are not telling the truth or are omitting significant details, I reserve the right to withdraw from the agreement. Is that acceptable?”

In response, Lina slapped his hand away and receded under the blanket to the point that only her angry crimson eyes were visible.

“Alright you damn pervert, listen,” she muttered. “Gourry and I… we thought we’d explore the island a bit before sunset. We were about to head back to camp when we ran into a couple of natives; they spoke with a really thick accent, but were a genuinely friendly sort and seemed to have taken a liking to us. They’ve invited us to a… festival of some kind they were holding in their village, with free food and all that. There was a catch though: those wishing to attend had to be there by sundown. We didn’t have the time to tell Amelia and Zel… but, well, I thought we’d just eat some delicious grub and leave after an hour or so.” She winced. “I think I should have known better. If not right there, then after we arrived in the village and I saw all that… weird… stuff.”

“Details, Lina-san,” Xelloss reminded her in a sing-song voice. “Don’t forget about the details.”

“Aaargh… There were… statues of…” She forced the words out of her mouth. “…statues of… male… genitals… everywhere. And I do mean everywhere. Big, small, tiny, house-sized… you name it. They told me they were just… decorations… and that, combined with the mountains of food I saw being served won over my urge to get out of there at top speed. Gourry looked pretty relaxed too, so it didn’t seem like we were in any danger… I guess we really weren’t. But…”

She trailed off for a couple of seconds, her chest heaving like she was short of breath.

“The whole festival thing soon became even more suspicious,” she continued with considerable effort. “The invitation sounded like they simply wanted us to join the fun, but once we were there… we were treated like guests of honor, like the success of the entire celebration hinged on us. My nerves were already somewhat on edge, so I made a mental note to watch my back. Nothing happened though… not at first. The food just kept on coming, each course more delicious than the one before… until around midnight.”

The priest watched as her gaze became unfocused, her eyes widening with horror.

“I glanced up from my meal and saw that… the whole village started taking off their clothes… not like they wore many to begin with. Then… the guy who invited us stepped beside me and… encouraged me to do the same. Like it was… no big deal at all.” She clenched her eyes shut. “I was… this close to leveling the entire island… but then… I noticed Gourry. He was talking to the village elder in a perplexed voice saying something like… this wasn’t exactly what he had in mind.”

Xelloss stared blankly at her. “I… I’m not sure I follow,” he stammered.

“You’ll understand soon enough. Now shut up,” Lina growled. “Obviously, I started grilling Gourry for answers… you can take that literally, I know there were at least a few Fireballs involved. It turned out… he paid the villagers for the food, and asked them to invite us here. He wanted it to be a surprise, to… to celebrate… our anniversary.” She turned under the blanket to face the priest, a strange, agonized smile appearing on her lips. “It was actually a week later, but leave it to him to mix up the dates. To make things worse, the natives didn’t understand what an anniversary was, and thought he was trying to arrange some sort of… fertility… ritual.”

She gave a deep, forlorn sigh.

“Gourry wasn’t done though. After explaining to the villagers that we were going to keep our clothes on, he told them to ‘skip to the next part’. Before I could recover from the shock and bring myself to ask what the hell was that supposed to mean, I saw drums, flutes and… other instruments I didn’t recognize being brought out by the dozens. My husband stood there in the middle of them, and, accompanied by a choir of still butt naked men and women… he started to sing.”

She suddenly reached out and grabbed Xelloss by his collar, pulling him closer. The strained smile on her face blossomed into an expression even more baffling: it was impossible to tell whether Lina was about to laugh or cry.

“That idiot jellyfish…! I have no idea where he got the melody from, but get this: the lyrics were about how he couldn’t come up with any lyrics! How, no matter what he tried, he could not think of anything fancy to fit the occasion, but… he hoped I would like the song anyway, because… he thought it would… it would make me smile.” Her voice almost broke for a moment. “That… was so… him.”

She released the priest, but did not pull away.

“I think I fell out of my chair somewhere in the middle of the song… I don’t remember when or if I ever got back up. The rest of the night felt like I was in a daze… we were eating, singing… Ceiphied knows how, but I think they even got me to sing something, but I can’t recall what it was… I distinctly remember, though, trying to find a way to get Gourry and me alone, so I could beat the living crap out of him. I… or was it him?... managed to find an empty tent many hours later. In the end… well, the beating was postponed… and our second child was born early that next year.” She gazed at her companion with a weary look. “Is that enough detail for you, or do you want me to list the goddamn positions?”

The mazoku hastily donned a cheerful façade to hide his stunned expression. “I reckon I can fill in the blanks.”

“It’s so weird though,” she muttered absently, as if she did not even hear him. “I always figured if I told anyone about this, I’d either die of embarrassment, or at least blow up half the continent. But now… I don’t know how I feel. I…”

A single tear rolled down her cheek onto the bedroll.

Xelloss’ brows furrowed slightly. “There was no time limit in the terms I’ve set. Would you prefer if we continued this conversation tomorrow?” he asked in a careful voice.

“No… it’s fine,” she spoke in a half-whisper, managing to add a shaky wink. “And that was your second question.”

The priest wrinkled his brow further in confusion, then let out a small chuckle. “Oh dear… I did let my guard down, didn’t I?”

While he did not look particularly offended, his last few words - possibly a warning, a provocation, or just a remark of no consequence - were left hanging in the air. For the next few minutes, the two lay in the tiny stone alcove, under the cozy blanket, facing each other in complete silence.

Outside, the storm somehow managed to intensify even further. Instead of providing the occasional blinding flash or two, lightning became a constant feature of the night sky. The claps of thunder were distant at least, but as they melded into the scream of the wind, they created a horrid alloy of sound that seeped inside the tiniest cracks, wailing like a harbinger of doom.

Still, somehow all of that did not matter one bit. Lina pulled the blanket back above her shoulders, and let herself relax in the soothing warmth that enveloped her. Her gear was the best money could buy of course, but the sensation went far beyond what wool lining alone could provide; she felt some of this warmth coming from within her in greater and greater waves, like a hot spring that burst forth from her chest.

“I’m starting to feel sorry for the weather,” she said lightly, breaking the silence between them. “It’s trying so hard, and here I am, my only worry being what you’re going to ask me next.”

Xelloss put a hand behind his head in an almost bashful gesture.

“My, you flatter me, Lina-san.” His smile turned mischievous. “Unfortunately, flattery will get you nowhere. My first question was mostly aimed at testing your resolve; now that we’ve moved past that, let us get down to business, shall we?”

The sorceress nodded, rubbing her eyes. “Ask away.”

Somewhere nearby the roaring wind managed to fell a tree, sending it tumbling down the mountainside.

“I’ve been curious about this for a good while now: what exactly is your greatest fear?” the priest asked in a conversational tone. “The real one, I mean. I’m rather convinced the answer has little to do with slugs, and these days the mention of Luna-san also doesn’t quite cause the same panic attack it used to.”

As if to prove his point, Lina indeed merely frowned upon hearing her sister’s name.

“We really are getting serious, huh?” she spoke without much enthusiasm, blinking a few times. “Well, at least I don’t need to think too hard on that one. A word of warning though: I doubt it’ll be as interesting as you hope it to be, and it’s also kinda… hard to explain, at least in any detail.”

“Oh, no need to worry,” Xelloss on the other hand did not even try to hide his curiosity. “We can start with the simplest version, and go from there.”

Followed by her gaze, the sorceress’ index finger drew a shaky line on the bedroll between them.

“How do I say this… Remember Auntie Aqua?” With the raging storm as its backdrop, her voice was barely audible. “When we first met her while looking for a spell I could use against Garv, she showed me a vision… an alternate reality or just an illusion, I still don’t know… where I miscast the Giga Slave and destroyed the world.” Her finger came to a halt. “I think that’s where it all started… but that’s not it. My greatest fear isn’t what this would lead you to believe.” She looked at the priest again. “Maybe we should try to find some common ground first. It feels weird to ask this, you being a mazoku and all, but… how close did you ever get to experiencing true nothingness? Not just darkness or desolation, but a void without light, without matter… without anything.”

The priest’s cheerful smile waned inexplicably. “I believe I have seen what you describe… or at least something not far from it.”

Her hand slowly moved to touch the edge of his cloak. “Could you tell me about it? It might help me explain.”

Breaking eye contact, Xelloss appeared to be studying the orb of light above for several long moments, his face an expressionless mask.

“Very well. I suppose I did say we’re in no particular hurry,” he finally answered, sounding like he had made his mind up about something.

As if in anticipation, the incredible winds outside let up slightly.

“It happened a century or two after the War of the Monster’s Fall,” he began, his open eyes still fixed on the ceiling. “Nothing in particular prompted me to do what I did, aside from idle curiosity perhaps. Sometimes humans simply feel like testing how far they can jump; that day, I decided to test how high up I could fly.”

He gave a light shrug. “Well, I said ‘fly’, but once I realized the true extent of the distance between me and the clouds, I quickly added short-range teleportation as an option. I reached my destination in just a few minutes; while the view was no doubt fascinating, to my disappointment there seemed to be nothing further up but an endless, empty azure sphere. Honestly, I was close to ending my little escapade right there, but ultimately I chose to go a bit higher regardless, just to be certain.”

Xelloss raised an arm to point at the unseen sky behind the layers of rock. “That blue sphere, I soon realized, is simply an illusion of some sort, if not necessarily magical in nature. The higher one goes, the more the color fades away into a starless night, caring nothing of the fact that the sun is still far from the horizon. Also, even with constant teleports, it eventually began to feel like I was barely making progress; thus I decided to bend space further, and multiply my distance from the ground many times in a single instant.”

After a beat of silence, the mazoku spoke in a voice that felt strangely weak and distant. “What I saw then… was genuinely unexpected. For one, the Material Plane is apparently a misnomer. It is not the sky, but the realm itself which takes the form of a sphere, not unlike the moon and the sun, which seem to exist as worlds separate from our own.” His expression hardened. “A lot more… unsettling, however, was what I did not see. The three orbs aside, everywhere I looked, both on this side and on the astral… I saw naught but emptiness, a black void stretching into a distance so unimaginably vast, it seemed impossible even for me to comprehend. It indeed lacked virtually everything: not just light and matter, but even force and motion. I was floating in place without using magic; I did not fall and, aside from spinning uselessly in place, I could not move either. Without the ability to teleport… I would have been trapped in that void for an eternity.” His eyes slowly closed. “Needless to say… my stay there was brief. I returned to the surface in short order, and have felt no desire to revisit that place ever since.”

The winds died down completely, wrapping the alcove in the much gentler sound of pouring rain.

With a faint smile on her lips, Lina drew closer, and rested her hand on the priest’s shoulder. “Well, what do you know,” she mused in what was little more than a whisper. “I didn’t expect us to share the same fear.”

Her companion frowned a little. “I said nothing about fear.”

“Right, you didn’t,” her soft voice quelled his protests quickly, almost ruthlessly. “But you should be able to understand then. What my true fear really is.”

Taking a deep breath, the sorceress closed her eyes as well. “Auntie Aqua showed me a vision of it, then Hellmaster Fibrizo let me experience it in reality. I can’t really put its horror into words the way you did, but… it’s like the exact opposite of all I hold dear in life. Something that terrifying, no matter how I’d try, I could never forget.” Her hand tightened its grip on Xelloss’ shoulder. “No, it’s more than that. At times… on some really bad days, I could still feel it lingering: its coldness hiding in every conversation turned sour, its weight pushing me down with each loved one I’ve lost.” Another tear rolled down her cheek. “When… when Gourry died, and I did not know where to go, what to do… when I looked at the road ahead of me, I did not see new things to discover, people to meet, good food to eat… I only saw black nothingness spreading before me throughout the centuries to come, until the last shred of the person I used to be gives up hope… and ceases to exist.”

Despite the sadness filling her words, Lina’s expression was not upset, not even worried. Her eyes still closed, she put her head against the priest’s shoulder next to her hand, her deep, even breaths becoming the loudest sound in the alcove as even the downpour began to lose its momentum outside.

“And yet, here you are.” Xelloss replied after a little while, his own voice likewise strangely calm. “Roaming the lands, fighting battles, solving mysteries, eating a truly astounding amount of food, discovering new magic… Lina-san, as far as I can tell, and I do believe I can tell – you’ve never been more you.”

Slowly but surely, that faint smile from before returned to her face.

“Yeah…” she breathed. “….and whose fault is that?”

His widening grin aside, the mazoku gave no answer to her question.

Instead, he turned his gaze outside, above the low wall of the alcove, noting that only a slight drizzle remained of the cataclysmic onslaught from before. Even the clouds did not fully cover the sky anymore; through a small gap, one could glimpse a quite clear view of the waxing moon.

Xelloss’ eyes reopened, then immediately narrowed into a line of foreboding amethyst. For a minute, he stared at the moon, or perhaps what lay beyond it with a dark expression, as if sizing up an enemy of considerable power – then he smiled, like he was amused by his own reaction, and turned away.

“It seems we’re through the worst of it,” he commented absent-mindedly. “Most strange; judging from its sheer intensity just a little while ago, it would’ve been no surprise to see it last the whole night, don’t you think?” After several seconds had passed without any reaction, his gaze slid to the side. “…Lina-san?”

The sorceress was asleep. Her head still leaned against his shoulder, her hands hugging his arm like a small pillow.

Visibly surprised, Xelloss let out an awkward chuckle. “Goodness, Lina-san, do you expect me to stay like this all night?”

“…Mmmnhgnm…” came the eloquent reply.

The priest nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Of course, that was my fourth question.” With his free hand, he smoothed out the woolen fabric covering her shoulder. “And I suppose… the answer could not have been more obvious.”

Reacting to his brief glance upwards, the sphere of light blinked out – and the alcove was covered by a comfortable second blanket of darkness.

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

Lina stirred as her consciousness emerged from the realm of dreams, but decided almost immediately that she did not feel like waking up just yet. Her entire body was surrounded by soothing warmth, like a cocoon; even the strangely-shaped cushion she cradled in her arms radiated comfortable heat. She felt she could still spend many hours like this – it’s not like she had anything important to do, right?

Amazingly, the cushion shook a bit, not letting her drift back to sleep. With great reluctance, she opened her eyes to see what was happening. The first thing she noticed was a small notebook, lying on the edge of the bedroll and her blanket. It was opened around the middle, the pages filled with notes written by a steady hand, using what seemed to be black ink; even a few small diagrams were squeezed into the margins here and there.

Her right hand reached drowsily for the booklet. She did not understand how she could read its contents without her glasses, but what she understood even less was the simple fact that these notes were clearly not hers.

“Good morning, Lina-san,” her pillow greeted her in a gentle voice.

The sorceress was very much convinced that cushions did not usually move, much less talk, so with some apprehension she quickly glanced to her left.

As it turned out, her pillow did talk – this oddity being explained by the fact that her pillow was none other than a most cheerful-looking Xelloss.

She pulled away from the priest with breakneck speed.

“Uh… um… g-good morning,” she stammered, trying to remember how on earth she ended up falling asleep in that position. The events of last night were slowly coming back to her, but some details still remained frustratingly hazy. “Err, I see you wrote some stuff about holy magic into my notebook… thanks.” She still could not banish the look of confusion from her face. “This seems like… way more than what we agreed upon though.”

The mazoku gave a frivolous shrug.

“Well, I certainly had a lot of free time on my hands in the past few hours,” he explained. “Also, it was only fair; after all, our little question and answer session also went, how should I phrase this, quite above and beyond my initial expectations.” He winked at her. “I didn’t know you had it in you, Lina-san. You were absolutely right when you took the initiative, and I was in the wrong for being skeptical; feel free to gloat to your heart’s desire.”

The sorceress basically flattened herself against the wall in the corner. She did not like the sound of that, not one bit. “I know I’m going to regret asking this, but… what are you talking about exactly?”

“Hmm, it would be rude of me to go into the most graphic of details,” the priest pondered, his words making Lina flinch. He drew closer, trapping her into the corner completely. “But since you insist, a few highlights that come to mind… You hiding bashfully under the blanket, not wanting me to see your face, much less anything else under it… The feel of your labored breaths… That expression you had in the moment when we reached one of the many climaxes of our evening, torn between joy and pain… And when the raging storm that drove us into this frenzy of emotion had finally calmed down, your head resting against me, peaceful and content… Though I understand that you were perhaps not entirely satisfied, given your offer to tell me about various ‘positions’ – but I think we still have plenty of time for that. We can slowly get to know this new side we discovered of each other yesterday, and see where it leads us.” He put both hands to his (illusory) heart. “Truly, Lina-san, this night we have spent together… it was a night to remember.”

The cold stone behind her back suddenly feeling searing hot, the sorceress flailed about mentally, trying in vain to calm down and make sense of what was happening. Xelloss would not lie, that was for certain, but the things he said…

One by one, they clicked into place. All of them were true of course, but none of them were real, at least not the way they were intended.

She turned her attention back to the priest, who waited expectantly, like a child causing mischief to be noticed by his parents. With every ounce of her willpower, she forced her expression into a calm smile.

“It really was,” she said as she reached forward to trace her finger along Xelloss’ cheek, much to the mazoku’s astonishment. “This is a nice place. It might be small, a bit cramped, but I liked it here.” The moment her hand touched his ear, she grabbed onto it and started yanking it in every possible direction. “WHICH IS THE ONLY REASON WHY I’M NOT GOING TO BURY YOU UNDER THE SMOULDERING RUINS OF THIS MOUNTAIN, UNDERSTOOD?!”

The priest did not put up much resistance beyond a playful wriggle or two. “Yes, Lina-san, I hear you loud and clear… as long as there’s anything left of my ears, that is.”

With a grumble, she let go of him and got to her feet. “You can keep them… for now.”

It took her a minute to pack things up, most of that time being spent on waiting for the best moment to strike, then savoring the view after she unceremoniously pulled the bedroll out from under Xelloss and made him tumble over the stone floor.

“Oh my, such viciousness,” the priest commented as he picked himself up, summoning his staff into his hand. “They say one’s choice of travelling companions reflects on oneself – what does this mean for me, I wonder?”

“You have something to say?” Lina asked in a dangerously sweet voice as she secured her cloak to her shoulder guards.

The mazoku glanced at the sky. There was barely a stray cloud to be seen; nothing challenged the pleasantly warm rays of the morning sun as they poured down on the mountainside.

“Actually, there is one thing I forgot to mention.” He leapt over the low wall to join the sorceress outside the alcove. “I never managed to ask my fifth question yesterday.”

Lina eyed him warily as he reached over her shoulder and gestured towards the winding mountain trail that disappeared and reappeared among the giant boulders and tall trees below them; a beautiful sight to behold.

The priest’s question came in a mellow voice. “Could you tell me what you see now, when you look at the road ahead of you?”

Her apprehension melting away, a smile with the same radiance as the sun above spread over Lina’s features. She took Xelloss’ hand and made him point towards the horizon.

“There, right there! See that?”

“I’m… not sure what ‘that’ is.”

His uncertain words were met with bright laughter as she started running along the trail, down the mountain.

“Don’t worry, I don’t know either!” she yelled back. “But something tells me it’ll be fun!”

Looking satisfied with her answer, Xelloss quickly followed suit.

#slayersweek

11 notes · View notes

ghostez · 4 years

Text

Until Someone Gets Hurt

Summary: Techno takes the bois on a field trip and yells at Wilbur :)

(some hurt/comfort after the storm but mainly more hurt :'))

(tw: a bit of crying and yelling and swearing)

~*~

The front door violently swung open, making Techno jolt up. He glanced up from his phone just in time to see Tommy storm into his room and slam the door close. Techno raised an eyebrow, confused, and looked over at Wilbur who hadn't even seemed to notice.

"Hey Wil?" The brunette looked up with a slight hum to let him know he heard him. "What's up with Tommy?"

Wilbur shrugged, leaning back in his chair. "Probably still baby-raging over his broken gun," he snickered. "Did I tell you about that? I broke his Vlog Gun during MCC, it was hilarious."

"Vlog Gun?"

"Yeah, it's just one of those Nerf guns." Wilbur set down his phone and whipped a plastic gun out of his inventory, spinning it around in his hand. "He got two at the arcade but I broke one of 'em."

Techno gave him a confused look. "Wh- Wait why'd you break it?"

"We made a deal for MCC; if we got above fifth place then I'd give it back him. If not..." Wilbur pulled back the loading trigger and fired a foam bullet across the room, grinning. "Then I'd get to break it."

Techno hummed to show that he heard and turned to glance back at Tommy's room. "Well... I'm gonna go check on him."

"Okay then," Wilbur shrugged, getting back to his phone. "But don't blame me if he yells at you."

Techno got up, shoving his phone into his pocket, and went over to lightly knock on Tommy's door. "Tommy?" He opened the door and was almost immediately taken back.

The blond was crumbled on the floor next to his bed, face buried in his messy blanket and chest heaving for air. As Techno approached, he could hear quiet sobs that were muffled by the sheets and broke Techno's heart.

"Hey, Tommy?" He knelt beside the younger, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You okay?"

Tommy snapped his head up, glaring with bloodshot eyes and tear-stained cheeks. "No, of course I'm not you idiot!" he snapped, voice cracking in the middle of his words. "I'm not fucking okay!"

He shoved his face back into the blankets, his voice breaking into sobs once again. Techno was never good at comforting people, but he at least knew when someone just needed to vent.

"Tommy. Look at me."

The blond lifted his head with a weak glare and Techno immediately pulled him into a warm hug. Tommy was frozen for a few moments before instantly breaking down in his arms, grabbing at the back of Techno's cape and burying his face in his shoulder.

Techno waited quietly, letting the younger cry in his embrace until he was ready to speak. Tommy's sobs slowly stifled to sniffles though he was still shaking slightly. Techno gently tugged away from him and gave him a soft smile.

"You okay now?" he asked, trying to keep his usually monotone voice gentle.

Tommy sniffed and rubbed his eye, wiping away some of the tears. "K-kinda..." he murmured, his breaths hiccuping slightly.

Techno smiled. "Good. Now, what happened?" he asked, before tentatively adding, "I heard Wilbur broke your gun."

That seemed to trigger something because Tommy's expression twisted into a glower and he looked down, blue eyes burning with anger. "Yeah, that... bastard destroyed my fucking Vlog Gun," he spat in a hoarse voice, almost making Techno wince at the amount of venom in his voice.

"Is that what you're mad about?"

"I- Well- Kinda!" Tommy exclaimed, barely able to form any words let alone a sentence. "But also not really... well no, yeah! Kinda? I don't know!" He huffed in frustration and crossed his arms.

Techno nodded understandingly. "What happened?"

"Wilbur broke my Vlog Gun, that's what!" Tommy yelled. "And now I can't team with Tubbo next time and we're gonna have to fight and I don't wanna fight but fucking Scott didn't quit the team for Tubbo and now Wilbur has my fucking Vlog Gun! I don't even know if I still want it, I just want Tubbo on my team..."

The blond sighed, hugging his knees. "I just... I wanna play with Tubbo... it's gonna be his first MCC but..." He trailed off, looking away.

"But what?" Techno tilted his head slightly, scarlet red eyes soft despite their glaring color. "We can always get you another gun you know-!"

"I KNOW I KNOW!" Tommy snapped. "But it's not about the stupid gun anymore!" He sighed and rested his head on his arms. "It's about winning. If I let Wilbur win he'll never let me live it down..."

Techno couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy. Tommy's round face, glowing with tears and bloodshot eyes, made him look so much younger and smaller in his arms. It made Techno realize that he really was still a child, no matter how mature he acted at time or how many "adult" jokes he made, he was still only 16.

Techno reached out and gently cupped Tommy's cheek with his hand, wiping away some of the tears and lightly brushing over the scar under his eye. Tommy had never told him how he got the scar, but he was certainly proud of it, showing it off to him all the time like it was a trophy.

"Tell you what Tommy," he said, breaking into a grin. "Call Tubbo and tell him to meet us outside the house. I'm taking you two on a field trip."

Tommy looked up at him, confused, but nodded. "O-okay... where're we going...?"

"It's a surprise," Techno explained with a small wink that made Tommy giggle. "But I'm sure you'll recognize it." He stood up and gestured for Tommy to follow, and the two made their way to the front door.

"You finally done baby-raging?"

The voice made Tommy physically flinch and pause in his texting, looking up to glare at Wilbur who sat snidely across the room. "Piss off Wilbur," he growled, his throat still raw from crying.

Wilbur rolled his eyes, seemingly not having noticed his hoarse voice. "Typical Tommy," he teased, sticking his tongue out with a snide grin. "When you gonna stop baby-raging over your toy?"

Tommy gripped his phone so hard his hand started to shake and Techno quickly stepped in. "Tommy, go wait for me outside," he ordered, casting a glare Wilbur's way. "I have to get something."

Tommy seemed to pick up the hint and snapped his head towards Techno. "I can't handle him myse-"

"Tommy." Tommy winced slightly and nodded, silently slipped out the door to go wait for Tubbo.

"So what'd you need Techno?" Wilbur's voice was cool which only fueled Techno's anger. How could he be so calm when Techno clearly wasn't happy with him?!

"What the fuck Wilbur?!" he yelled, red eyes glaring at the brunette.

Wilbur jolted, putting his hands up in defense and nearly throwing his phone in surprise. "What did I do?!" he exclaimed with a bewildered expression.

"Are you serious?!" Techno spat, stepping closer to him. "You made Tommy fucking cry, that's what!"

Wilbur froze, brown eyes going wide. "I... I did...?"

"Yeah you fucking did you asshole!" Techno's words were dripping with venom that made Wilbur physically recoil. "He was fucking crying in his room and it's your. Fucking. FAULT!"

"I-I'm sorry-"

"DONT SAY SORRY TO ME!" Techno yelled. He could feel his throat tightening and tears pricking t his eyes but he didn't care. "SAY SORRY TO TOMMY YOU DENSE IDIOT!" He sighed, putting a hand over his eyes. "Why would you do this Wilbur? He's your fucking friend, not to mention a child."

Wilbur looked down guiltily, clasping his hands together. "I didn't... I-I thought-"

"No you didn't," Techno interrupted, his tone cold and harsh. "You didn't think and that's the problem. You better fix this or else there will be consequences. Hell, there already are consequences but there'll be more."

There were tears in Wilburs eyes by the end he finished speaking and when Techno turned to leave, his last words completely broke him.

"Wilbur, I mean this in the nicest way but... you fucked up."

Wilbur was sent into sobs, hands covering his mouth to try and contain them. Techno's cold gaze wavered slightly but he didn't linger any longer and closed the door behind him. Wilbur reached into his pocket and fumbled for his phone, quickly dialing the first name he saw.

"Ph-Phil- *hic* I-I messed up..."

Techno closed the door, trying his hardest to ignore the sobs behind him that poked at his heart. Wilbur deserved it, he thought as he made his way out the house. There were tears in his own eyes, but because of his own anger. He cried because of Tommy's anger and the betrayal he felt.

Tommy and Tubbo were stood outside the house, talking in a way that probably could've been as arguing to an outsider. Tommy was the first to notice Techno and greeted him with a grin.

"Hey Big Man!" he exclaimed.

"Oh hey Techno!" Tubbo greeted, smiling. "Congrats on the win, Tommy was telling me all about it."

Tommy scoffed, muttering under his breath something along the lines of, "green bastard."

"Where were you taking us?" Tubbo asked, ignoring Tommy's grumbles. "Tommy said you had a surprise or something?"

Techno smiled at the two. "Yeah I did," he admitted. "I'm taking you two to the Minecraft Championships."

"WAIT WHY'D YOU TELL HI- Wait the championships?" Tommy cut off his own rant, confused. "What do you mean?"

Techno shrugged. "Well I thought we could get some practice in. Everyone's probably tired so it'll be empty anyways."

Tubbo stared at him for a moment before breaking into a grin. "Hell yeah! Thanks Techno!" he exclaimed. "I haven't even seen the place in person before, this'll be awesome!"

"Hey, I'll show you around!" Tommy said, slinging his arm over the shorter's shoulder. "Show you all the bastards we have to beat!"

"Yeah, bastards!"

Techno smiled as the two bantered about the championships. He was just happy to see Tommy finally smiling again.

#tommyinnit #tommy innit #tubbo #tubbo_#wilbur soot #philza #ph1lza #technoblade #sleepy bois inc #sbi #fanfiction #mcyt #mineblr #my writing #minecraft

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katsens-writing · 5 years

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See You Again, Part 3

Summary: Peter runs into a situation he just can’t ignore, Tony remembers what it’s like to be a hero.

Content: Fire, implied bad language. Angst, danger, injury, mention of panic attacks. Let me know if I need to add anything!

Word Count: About 3.4k (Does not include recap.)

A/N: This story was inspired by a post and a resulting conversation I had. This story is spoiler-free for Far From Home so if you haven’t seen it yet, don’t worry! This part is full of action and daring heroics so naturally, I had to end it in a cliffhanger. My asks and messages are open if you want to yell at me! Also, if you want to be added to the taglist, let me know. Thanks to @wisemanwhodoesntknow and @itsallavengers for the inspiration!

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“Boss, the police scanner is going crazy with chatter. I-I can’t make it out, but--”

FRIDAY’s voice was cut off as Tony slid back his mask. He wanted to see for himself. A cold wave of fear hit him and his blood ran like ice in his veins. A knot of terror clenched in his stomach as he engaged the mask and blasted off in the direction of the glow. “Not again,” he whispered.

---

As Peter drew closer to where the red dot was on the map, a bright yellow spot in his vision caught his attention. “Karen, switch to regular vision,” he spoke without a second thought. His vision changed, but the bright spot was still there. He retracted his mask and saw a strange glow coming from around the corner and a few blocks down. He squinted as he tried to make out what it was when realization hit him.

“Karen, bring up the map!” He spoke as the mask slid back into place.

“Yes, Peter.”

Peter looked at the map coming from his wrist and his eyes widened in horror. An uneasy feeling hit him so hard he felt like he was going to be sick. “We gotta get over there, now!”

Peter jumped off the roof and the hoverboard materialized under his feet. He crouched down and rested his fingertips on the panels perfectly placed in an outline of them. The second all his fingertips made contact, the thrusters maxed out their power. Quentin had warned him against maxing out the thrusters, telling him it drained the board’s power almost instantly, and to only use it in the direst of emergencies when he needed to get away. Peter wasn’t trying to get away from anything, but something in his gut told him this was an emergency. He was right.

In a matter of seconds, he saw what was the source of the light. “Oh my God,” Peter’s eyes widened. He landed in a familiar alley just as the board began to flash, alerting him to the inevitable power failure, but he didn’t notice. The second his feet hit the ground, he yanked off his mask and looked up. His eyes widened in horror at the sight before him. The building where the first working monitor was located stood before him, completely engulfed in flames. Fire was pouring out of every window and vent, the heat keeping the first responders at the front of the building at bay.

“Karen! This- was this- did-” Peter stammered, overwhelmed by shock. The monitor. It couldn’t have done this, it just couldn’t have- could it?

“Peter? You need to take a deep breath. You should sit down, you may be having a panic attack,” Karen spoke urgently. Peter started having panic attacks after he returned from the snap. When Harley found out, he checked Karen’s programming and made sure she knew what to do and what the signs were. Peter appreciated it even though it wasn’t necessary. He was a lot like Tony and didn’t want the people he loved to see him like that. At first, it was purely out of shame, but now it was in an effort to protect them.

Peter shook his head vehemently. “No, no I’m fine. I need to get in there!”

“Peter, no, you--”

“Karen, activate filters,” Peter cut off his AI’s protests as he began searching the wall for an entrance. He found a couple of windows at the far end of the alley that had smoke billowing from them, but no flames. He ran down to the farthest window and climbed in.

“Hello? Is anyone in here?” he called out. He was met by the sound of smoke detectors going off and a faint rattling noise. Following the sound, he came to a door. “Hello?” In reply, he heard a louder rattling and a panicked sounding squawk. He opened the door to find a bird perched on the side of its cage, flapping its wings furiously.

“It’s ok Polly, I’ve got you,” Peter spoke as he hurried to open the cage door. The bird immediately flew out of the cage and out the door. Peter got out the door just in time to see it fly out the window.

“Anyone else in here?” he called out. He quickly went room to room searching, but he didn’t find any other animals or people. He went to the door of the apartment and felt the handle. It was warm to the touch. Peter set his jaw and his muscles tensed as he braced himself and burst through the door. There was fire farther down the hall to the left toward the main entrance of the building. Peter ran down the hall to the right and found a set of stairs. He opened the door and quickly shot a web up to the second floor, very grateful that he hadn't listened to Fury and brought his webshooters with him.

He flew up to the second landing and threw open the door. He paled and quickly shut it. The entire floor was consumed in fire. His heart was racing, and his lungs were burning from the smoke. The mask’s filters could only do so much. He quickly moved to the third floor and cautiously opened the door to find the same thing with the fire mere feet away.

“Peter, the building is unstable. You need to get out of here, now,” Karen urged, but her words didn’t register. The AI’s voice sounded kind of distant or muffled like she was speaking through a pillow. His head was starting to spin from lack of oxygen, and he had to lean against the doorframe to steady himself. He turned and was starting to close the door when a cry came from down the hall, cutting through the smoky haze that filled his mind. His heart skipped a beat and every muscle in his body tensed as he took a few steps back.

Karen sensed the changes and objected, sounding almost panicked. “Peter, you can’t! There’s no way to know how deep it is!” But it was too late. Peter set his jaw and braced himself as he ran toward the fire before leaping through the wall of flames. When he landed, he was still in the middle of a pocket of fire and he dashed forward. He squinted but he couldn’t see through the flames and smoke. He could feel the heat encompassing him, suffocating him, making it harder and harder to breathe with every step before he burst out into a clearing. He gasped as the mercifully cooler air enveloped him, rushing into his lungs.

He didn’t even finish catching his breath before he cried out. “Hello?”

“Help! Is someone there? Please, help me!” He heard a terrified voice and frantic pounding coming from a door to his left.

“I’m here!” Peter ran forward and grabbed the door handle and tried it.

“The door is stuck!” The voice cried.

“Back up!” Peter shouted, his voice catching. His eyes were beginning to sting through all the smoke. He kicked at the door but it wouldn’t budge. Panting, he stepped as far back as he could. He charged the door, ramming it with his shoulder. He felt a sickening crunch as he hit the door, but it finally burst open. A searing pain shot through him, running from his shoulder through his collarbone and to his other shoulder, but he didn’t hesitate. A man a little older than Peter stood on the other side of the door, looking shocked. Peter grabbed his arm and ran toward the back of the apartment just as a pillar of flames burst through behind them, incinerating the room they had just left.

“Which way?” Peter coughed, the crackling right behind them.

“Left, but the window won’t open!” The man pointed toward an open door and Peter dashed through it. He turned and slammed the door closed behind them. He collapsed against it and disengaged his mask with a gasp, trying to catch his breath.

“Over here!” The man called from beside a window. Peter pushed himself up off the door and stumbled over. “It’s painted shut,” the man continued bitterly.

“Stand back,” Peter choked. He grimaced before swinging his fist through the window, shattering it. “Cover your face,” he ordered as he cleared as much of the glass as he could from the frame. His mask formed and he climbed out the window and turned to face the man. “Come on, I’ve got you.”

The man’s light brown eyes were wide but he didn’t hesitate. Peter shot a web up to the roof of the building across the alley with his sore arm before wrapping his hand up in the web. Peter grabbed the man with his good arm. He pushed himself clear of the window frame, letting out a small cry as a blinding pain shot through his injured shoulder. He gritted his teeth against the searing pain, fighting his instinct to let go of the web, instead tightening his grip. When the white faded, his vision was swimming. He slowly lowered down to the alley. As soon as his feet hit the ground, the man let go and pulled back.

“S- Spider-Man?” he asked wide-eyed as his voice came back to him.

“Are you ok?” Peter asked, ignoring the man’s question. Shaken, the man nodded. “Ok, good. You- you should probably get checked out. I, uh, think you’re hallucinating, you probably inhaled too much smoke. Walk up to one of the paramedics, they’ll take care of you.” The man nodded again before he turned and headed for the street. Peter watched until he was sure the man was safely out to the street and that a paramedic had noticed him before turning back to face the building. As he placed a hand on the wall, a window beside him exploded, sending glass flying into his face.

- -

Horrible memories flashed through Tony and his breathing quickened. No, not again. Please not again, he silently begged.

“Sir, are you ok?” FRIDAY asked, jarring Tony out of his head. Her voice sounded concerned. She knew about his panic attacks, he’d had them since before he created her. They were one of the reasons she wasn’t sure going out would be good for him.

“What are the scanners saying, Fri?” Tony ignored the AI’s question.

“The chatter is saying there’s a fire. Responders are on the scene, the cause hasn’t been determined yet.” FRIDAY reported. Tony’s stomach lurched, his worst fears now realized. Within seconds the fire was in sight and Tony’s eyes widened in horror. It was worse than he could have imagined. The entire building was consumed by fire. The blaze was visible in every window and had burned through in some places. He landed on the sidewalk beside a man barking orders. The man whipped around, surprise filling his face.

“Iron Man?” the man gasped.

“What’s the situation, Chief? Is everybody out?” Tony asked.

“My guys got all the civilians out, we’re just waiting on confirmation that--” the fire chief was cut off as a commotion behind him broke out. He and Tony looked over his shoulder to see two firefighters coming out of the building. One was barely conscious and the other was helping him.

“Reyes!” The chief shouted as he ran to the firefighters.

The firefighter turned at the chief’s voice with her partner’s arm around her shoulders and she cried out urgently. “Chief! It’s Carson, he’s down!”

The chief grabbed Carson’s other arm and helped Reyes carry him over to a waiting stretcher. “Is everyone else out?” he asked as they worked together to lay Carson down.

“I think so, didn’t see anybody,” Reyes replied as the paramedics started to take Carson’s gear off. He came to a little and fought weakly against one of them, swatting at their hand as they tried to place an oxygen mask over his mouth.

“Wait, Reyes!” His voice cracked as he grabbed the paramedic’s arm, reaching out blindly for his partner.

“I’m right here, you pain in the ass,” Reyes grabbed his hand in relieved exasperation. “What is it?”

“R-Rook. He- he’s still in there,” Carson choked out feebly before falling back onto the stretcher in a coughing fit.

Reyes paled but did her best to hide it from her partner. “Ok, ok, rest,” Reyes soothed him and patted his hand as the paramedics finally managed to place the mask over his face. They loaded him into an ambulance and she turned to the chief, her brow pinched in worry. “Has anyone seen Rook?”

“No,” the chief replied. He swore under his breath. “Damn rookie. I told him to stay out here.” Reyes blanched before looking furtively back at the building, then to the ambulance holding her partner with a pained expression on her face.

The chief’s eyes widened then he scowled. “Don’t even th--”

Tony put his hand on the firefighter’s shoulder. “Go with your partner, I’ll look for him.”

Reyes smiled at him gratefully before pounding on the ambulance door. “Wait up!”

Tony turned to face the burning building. He clenched his jaw and braced himself. Before the captain could object, Tony engaged his thrusters and flew through the front door and straight into the blaze as it flared up.

“FRIDAY, scan for any signs of life,” he ordered as he flew through the flames. He knew there wasn’t going to be any on the first floor. He found a hole in the ceiling leading to the next floor and flew through it.

“No one’s here, boss,” FRIDAY answered. “And with good reason. The whole place is going to come looking at any minute.”

“Keep looking,” Tony grimaced. He flew above the fire on the third floor and found a clear spot to land. The second his feet touched the floor it gave out from under him, disappearing in a ripple as the hole spread and the whole floor vanished. “Ok, next floor it is.”

Tony continued on to the fourth floor, keeping a constant eye on the reports from his scanners. He slowly flew down the hall. It was filled with fire and smoke but the stairway door at the end had swollen so much in the heat that he couldn’t open it. He didn’t find anything, so he doubled back and moved on to the fifth floor using the stairs at the other end.

Once he got there he stopped dead in his tracks. Three doors down on the left was a door that was open a few inches. Tony’s brow furrowed. Every door he had seen up until then had been closed. It was the first thing you learned living in an apartment; if a fire breaks out, you close the door behind you when you leave. Leaving it open just fueled the fire with more air.

“Boss?” FRIDAY spoke up suddenly, her voice alert.

“I see it,” Tony frowned. He went down the hall and some flames flicked at his suit as he flew above them. He landed tentatively just outside the door, testing the floor first before turning off the thrusters. Against all odds, it held steady. He opened the door slowly and stepped inside. The room was filled with flames, but that didn’t stop him.

“Hello?” he called hesitantly. All he heard was the creaking and groaning of the building. He cautiously crept forward, the floor protesting with every step. He was afraid the whole level would fall out beneath him like the third floor had. He froze as he heard a soft whimper coming from a room down the hall. He flew above the flames and quickly opened the door. He was immediately blinded by the smoke.

“Is anyone here?” he coughed, landing and shutting the door behind him as fast as he opened it. He waved a hand in front of him as he walked further in. As the smoke cleared a bit, he saw something trembling in the corner of the room. “What...?”

He hurried and knelt down beside the form and Tony’s stomach lept to his throat when he realized he had found the missing firefighter. He reached out a hand and placed it on the man’s shoulder before gently rolling him over partially onto his back. It was then he realized the firefighter’s mask was gone. A tiny whimper caught his attention. Tony looked up and his eyes widened at what he saw. A little girl was wearing the firefighter’s mask. He had curled himself around her to protect her from the heat and smoke before he passed out.

“It’s ok sweetie, you’re safe now,” Tony spoke softly. The little girl whimpered and cowered further into the corner. Tony disengaged his mask so she could see his face before he tried again. “It’s ok, I’ve got you. I’m going to get you out of here, ok?” Tony’s eyes shifted to the brave young man lying unconscious before him. “Both of you.”

He held his arms out to the little girl and she quickly crawled into them, nearly knocking him over. “Oof!” He grunted lightly. “There we go, that’s it. Hold on tight now, ok?” Tony took off his helmet and placed it on the firefighter. “Take care of him, FRIDAY. And find us a way out.”

Tony scooped up the young man in his arms and began scanning for a way out himself. The floor was creaking louder than before, so going through it wasn’t an option. He turned for a door down the hall when he saw some flames push through. “Ok, not that way.” The little girl began to cry softly on his shoulder, clinging onto him for dear life. “Shh, shh, it’s ok honey, everything is going to be ok, I promise--”

His words were cut off by a loud groan as the floor trembled below his feet. He engaged the thrusters just as it gave way. He went back through the front door and burst out into the main hall. At the end of it was a floor-to-ceiling window, and the flames before it were just low enough to fly over. He had to hurry because he knew the whole floor was going to collapse. “Hold on as tight as you can, ok?” he turned to the trembling little girl. She nodded and tightened her grip around his neck and burrowed her face into the back of it. “Good girl,” he soothed. He tightened his grip on the firefighter as he flew for the window at full speed. When he was just a foot away, he turned in midair and briefly cut off the thrusters. At the same time, he grabbed the little girl in one arm and pulled her around to his chest as he twisted his body around to shield her and the firefighter from the shattering glass before he sailed through the window feet first. As soon as he was clear of the window, he engaged the thrusters again and flew around to the front of the building.

He landed on the sidewalk once again, kneeling down as he carefully laid the young firefighter on the ground just outside the chaotic throng of paramedics and firefighters. “How is he, Fri?” he whispered softly.

“His vitals are weak, boss. He needs help,” the AI replied with a hint of sadness. As if on cue they were surrounded by paramedics. Tony gently took his helmet off of the firefighter and was momentarily stunned by how young he was. The paramedics took the young man from him and whisked him away. Tony slowly rose and watched as they loaded him into the back of an ambulance. As they pulled away he saw the paramedics starting chest compressions and all he could think was that he must have been about Peter’s age. He was brought back to reality by a small sob in his ear.

“Oh, hey! Hey there, shh, shh,” he put both arms around the little girl as he rose to his feet. She leaned back a little to look at him through tear-filled eyes. There were lighter streaks down her cheeks where her tears had flowed through the soot and dust on her face. “It’s ok. Everything’s going to be ok. We’re going to find your family, ok honey?” The little girl nodded and wrapped her arms tightly around Tony’s neck and he closed his eyes. God, he missed that feeling. He walked over to the fire chief holding the little girl in his arms. “Hey chief, have you seen anyone looking for a little girl?” he asked.

The chief turned to Tony and when he saw the little girl his face fell. “No one has said anything. I’ll start looking around.” Before Tony could answer, a woman came running up to them.

“Allie? Allie!” The woman called, tears running down her face.

“Sasha!” The little girl cried out, wriggling in Tony’s arms.

“Oh baby, I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry!” The woman sobbed, taking the little girl in her arms. “I tried getting to you, but they wouldn’t let me!”

“It’s ok sissy, I’m here, I’m here,” Tony smiled at the little girl, comforting her sister. She reminded him so much of Morgan. The smile vanished from Tony’s face as he turned to the chief. “How did this thing get started?” he asked with a frown.

“We aren’t sure yet. The guys did say something felt off though,” the chief scratched his chin thoughtfully.

“Thanks,” Tony’s brow furrowed. “FRIDAY, check for reports--” Tony’s words were cut off as the intense blaze flared up, sending glass and debris raining down upon the gathered crowd.

---

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Taglist: (If you want to be added, let me know, it’s no trouble at all!) @xmarveled @parkerspicedlatte @myworstdays @bla-369

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#Avengers #Avengers fanfic #Marvel #Marvel fanfiction #mcu #Spider-Man #Peter Parker #Iron Man #Tony Stark #my writing #writeblr #katsens-writing

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