#Except behind a bush. And then putting a sign in front of the bush saying ''look behind bush''
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Fire of Souls
Part 4: Celebration
part 1 // part 2 // part 3
Tsu'tey x Reader (younger sister of Jake Sully, dreamwalker) Enemies to Lovers
Contains: hunting, secrets, return home, and a party
Anything written in italics is spoken in Na'vi
Tsu’tey moves silently through the bushes, his weapons dangling around him. I glide behind him, my feet stepping into his footprints. We’ve been tracking the beast for the entire day. Tsu’tey’s jaw is clenched and his eyes are focused. We are right on it's trail.
There have been no signs of the Na’vi who attacked Tsu’tey but I keep my eyes open, prepared for anything. Tsu’tey crouches further to the ground as an animal chitters above us. I follow his lead, unable to see anything except his braids as he peers through some underbush.
He lifts his hand, his long blue fingers pointing upwards, telling me to stop. I halt instantly, my heart rate rising. Tsu’tey’s ears flicker against the side of his head as he listens. I strain my ears, trying to hear whatever it is he hears.
After a moment, he closes his hand and beckons me to keep moving. I follow after him, my back aching. The only time we’ve spoken is when we made our plan for killing the beast. After that, we fell into a rhythm of silently working together, knowing what the other person meant without them saying a word. It’s much better than our usual arguing.
Tsu’tey leans back and puts something in his loincloth. His eyes meet mine and he gives me a curt nod that means, we’re close. I nod in response.
A crack sounds through the forest. I freeze as Tsu’tey reaches his hand in front of him, telling me to stay calm. Sweat gathers between my knees as a strong burst of air filters through the treetops above us. It smells of raw meat and decay. The beast.
My eyes widen. Tsu’tey’s face goes flat, his lips in a straight line and his hands clasp around his bow. He creeps forward, not making a single sound. He pulls a string of leaves to the side. There, the beast stands in the middle of the clearing. His horns curled around his huge, unnatural head.
My breath catches in my throat. Tsu’tey whips his head around. He cocks his head to the side, are you okay? His eyes ask. I nod, forcing my nerves down. Tsu’tey watches a moment longer, contemplating the nervous look on my face before lifting his three fingers up. It’s our signal. It's time to go.
Tsu’tey breaks through the trees as one of his arrows goes sizzling through the air. The beast rears back in surprise. I climb up a nearby tree, my fingers digging into the bark as I cock my arrow into place. Tsu’tey springs out of the bush, distracting the beast as I shoot an arrow down. It slams right into the beast’s side.
The beast roars an ugly, almost mechanical sound. Even the tree I’ve climbed seems to go still at the sound. I load another arrow and shoot again, this time ramming into the beast on the other side. It roars again, sending leaves down from a nearby tree.
Tsu’tey doesn’t hesitate to jump onto the beast’s back. He grasps its horns and clamps his legs around its throat. He looks up at me, his eyes viscous. I grab the long knife from beside me and throw it to him, angling the blade so it lands perfectly in Tsu’tey’s hands.
Tsu’tey catches it even as the beast thrashes beneath him. He rears back and slams the dagger into the beast's heart. I suck in a breath as Tsu’tey jumps off and takes a few steps back. The beast roars, stumbles, blows out a nasty breath, makes a strange gurgling sound, and then collapses on its side. The beast shudders and goes still.
Tsu’tey doesn’t move as he observes the now dead beast. I climb down slowly, not fully believing our success. I drop my weapon and move closer to Tsu’tey. He begins to inch towards the beast. I hold my breath until Tsu’tey turns around, a huge grin plastered on his face. A real smile, that spreads across his face and lights his eyes. “It’s dead!” He yells.
“Hell yea!” I holler and pump my fist in the air. “We did it!”
Tsu’tey turns back and whoops excitedly. I instinctively offer my hand like a high-five. He instantly grabs it, his fingers wrapping around mine like a handshake. He gives me a firm squeeze.
I squeeze back, feeling the callouses of hands.
“Not bad,” Tsu’tey says before pulling back. “Now, let’s go home.”
Home. I smile at the thought as Tsu’tey walks over and cuts off the beast's horns.
~~~
I wake in my human body feeling weak and hungry. I push open the machine that links me to my Avatar. It takes a moment to fully adjust. It’s dark out but I can still make out the sharp outline of the Floating Mountains. I groan as I stand, my back cracking.
Grace and Jake’s voice float into the room, followed by a clatter of utensils. I sniff the air. It smells like burnt bread…
“Oh shit!” Grace yells from the other room. I chuckle to myself and head towards them. My legs feel weak and foreign. I miss my Avatar body the second I’m not in it. It’s starting to feel like my human body is the fake one.
There’s a banging sound like Grace just plopped the bread down. I can’t wait to tell them about slaying the beast. Jake laughs but it sounds different, almost strained. Nerves bubble in my stomach.
“You have to do something,” Grace says, her voice serious.
I freeze at the entrance to the room and push myself against the wall so they don’t see me.
Jake hangs his head in his hands, his wheelchair pushed all the way against the table. He sighs. “I don’t know what to do.”
Grace pulls out a chair with a loud scraping sound and sits beside him. “You have to tell Neytiri and soon.”
Tell Neytiri what? My hands flutter nervously at my side.
Jake scoffs. “No way. She’ll never forgive me. And my sister…”
My blood runs cold.
“You should’ve told your sister a long time ago.”
I step out from behind the entrance before I even have time to process a thought. I cross my arms as Jake’s face goes from shocked to nervous. “Tell me what?”
Grace lifts her eyebrows. She glances at Jake. “Well,” she heaves a sigh and stands from her chair, “at least you can check one of those boxes now.” She leaves, walking off to her own link station.
“Tell me what, Jake?” My voice is rough, almost panicked. My nerves are growing by the second. Things are starting to go well for me. We just killed the beast. We’re going back to Hometree. I could be one of them. I just pray it isn’t all about to come crashing down. Jake doesn’t respond, he just runs his hands across the armrest on his wheelchair. “Jake.”
He blows out a rough breath. “Okay, look,” he begins nervously, “do you know why we moved up to the Floating Mountains?”
What is he getting at? I nod, clearly irritated. “Yea. Your dumbass was hanging around Quaritch.”
“Do you know what we had talked about?”
I pause, unsure of where this is going and suddenly not sure that I want to know.
Jake exhales slowly. “He wanted me to get the trust of the Omatikaya so I could negotiate terms of their relocation.”
Relocation? I swallow the bile that rises in my throat. I dread the answer but I have to ask, “What do you mean by relocation?”
Jake runs a nervous hand through his hair before meeting my eyes. His face is full of pain. “It was before I knew. Before I saw how amazing the people are and before Neytiri…”
My heart starts pounding in my chest. Jake is always straight forward. Whatever this is– it’s bad. “Jake,” I say harshly, “out with it.”
“Promise you won’t do anything rash,” he says.
“Fine.”
“They’re gonna destroy Hometree.”
The air in my lungs is sucked out. I reach my hand out to steady myself as a wave of nauseous rolls over me. My ears are suddenly ringing. He can’t be serious. There are thousands who live in Hometree. It’s their home. It’s everything. I shake my head, unable to process this.
Jake wheels himself closer, his face peering up at me. “We still have time.”
I suck in a breath, trying to calm myself. Nothing feels real.
“Y/n,” Jake mummers, “please, try and listen.”
“What do you mean by time?” I ask, my voice raw.
Jake sighs. “We have time to gain their trust and convince them to leave.”
It feels like I’ve been kicked in the gut. My hands cradle my stomach as I let out a small moan. Tsu’tey’s trust? I’ve just barely gotten it, just silver. When he finds out… Any hope for friendship will be out the door. It will have been for nothing. “We have to stop them,” I say flatly.
Jake shakes his head, his eyes sad. “We can’t. All we can do is warn them when the time is right.” He pauses as he observes my face. “Will you help me, sister?”
I press my fingers to my eyes, fighting back tears. I wait a moment before nodding. “I’ll help you,” I whisper defeatedly, “what other choice do I have?”
~~~
Linking with my Avatar again felt like coming home. I opened my eyes to the streaming morning light. Tsu’tey had already packed the direhorses, the beast's horns curled from around the sides. There was something more relaxed about his demeanor; he’s happy to have killed the beast. Happy to be going home.
His relaxed stance hasn’t gone away as we journey back to Hometree. I try not to think about what Jake told me. I try, with every ounce of willpower, to force it out of my mind. But it still plagues me. Making me feel numb.
I don’t think Tsu’tey has noticed because we’ve hardly spoken any words to each other. We just move in silent agreement, a team that doesn’t need to write a plan; we just know.
We’ve been going for hours and my legs are going numb. “How much further?” I ask, breaking the long silence.
Tsu’tey slows his pace and looks back at me, flicking his braided hair over his shoulder. A small smile grows across his face. “Very soon.”
I raise an eyebrow at the rare smile on his face. He breaks through a line of dense trees, the leaves brush against his calves. My vision is blurred by the greenery for a moment before coming into full focus. An entire crowd of Omatikaya stand before us.
I gasp. Hometree looms right before me, looking mightier than ever. There’s no way Quaritch could destroy it. I force the thought away as Neytiri runs up to me, a brilliant smile across her face. “Welcome!”
I can’t help the grin that makes its way onto my face. All of the people have gathered outside Hometree. They're all cheering, whooping, and pumping their hands in the air. All of them are full of so much pride that it warms my heart.
“Is the beast dead?” The Olo’eyktan, Eytukan, calls above the cries. The crowd goes quiet as he makes his way through in his feathered chest piece. Neytiri backs away, joining Jake in the crowd. He gives me a goofy thumbs up but I look quickly away, not wanting to acknowledge him, not wanting him to think that I’m okay with this.
Tsu’tey dismounts and walks closer to the crowd as he holds his pack, the beast’s horns jutting out. I copy him, immediately hopping off my steed and falling into step beside him. Once, Eyutkan is right in front of us, we bow our heads in respect.
“The People want to know,” Eyutkan says, his face stern but his eyes proud, “is the beast dead?”
Tsu’tey grins. His smile sends chills down my spine, it’s lethal and charming at the same time. He reaches down and yanks the horns of his pack. “The beast has been slayed!”
The entire village erupts into roars of delight. Smiling faces as people hug and praise Tsu’tey the warrior. Then, I hear my own name. They are praising both of us. A small blush creeps onto my cheeks as various clan members look right at me and smile proudly.
“We will have a celebration! Tonight!” Eyuktan yells again before turning and facing the crowd. “A feast in honor of Tsu’tey and Y/n.”
The clan bursts into an array of activity: conversations and giddy excitement, as some run into Hometree and other’s grab hunting gear and head for the forest. A feast in my honor. Neytiri and Jake join us as Eyutkan pats Tsu’tey on the back. Tsu’tey’s eyes brighten at the gesture.
Neytiri grabs my hand and squeezes. Jake smiles at me and I feel my blood run cold like I’m suddenly back in the Floating Mountains, talking to him about Hometree. I feel sick. I don’t deserve this feast. If only they knew…
Neytiri’s face flickers with concern but before she can say anything, Eyuktan asks, “did you have any hardship along the way?”
Tsu’tey tenses beside me. I remember the cut along his chest, the poison seeping into his blood, and how I saved him. He remains silent beside me, waiting for me to speak. I clear my throat. “No, Tsu’tey and I worked well together.” Tsu’tey’s head whips towards me, his eyes light with surprise. I pretend not to notice and continue on, “all went well.”
Eyuktan nods as he pats me on the back. Pride swells in me. Neytiri’s eyes flutter between Jake and me. She looks at her father. “They are ready.”
Eyuktan grunts in agreement. “Tomorrow, take them to the ikran.”
My mouth drops open as excitement pools in my stomach. I look at Neytiri to find her smiling at Jake. I raise an eyebrow. Interesting…
Tomorrow, I’ll get to choose an ikran. I can’t contain my excitement to do something I’ve only ever read about. Tsu’tey catches my eyes and gives me a curt nod. My stomach flutters. He’s proud of me too.
~~~
There is a large fire in the center of Hometree and the clan dance and eat all around it. Loud drums pierce the air as people talk and laugh. The celebration is in full swing. I’ve managed to forget about all my worries and just enjoy this moment.
Earlier in the night, Tsu’tey brought me a plate of my favorite berries to which we shared a knowing look. Neytiri had cocked her head to the side in curiosity but said nothing else. Tsu’tey then tipped his head and stalked off, presumably to enjoy the party on his own. I haven’t seen him since and I pretend that I’m not slightly upset by that.
Besides, I’ve been too busy dancing. Neytiri and I danced and danced. My feet are practically burning. All around me, the clan moves their bodies to the rhythm of the drums, it’s magnetic and alive. I’ve never experienced anything like it before. Then Jake comes and sweeps Neytiri off into a dance off their own. With my aching feet and tired muscles, I begin to push my way off the dance floor when a male blocks my view.
“Congratulations,” he says. It’s a man I’ve never seen before. He’s tall, broad shoulders, and his hips are wider than Tsu’tey’s. Not that, I’m thinking of Tsu’tey… I shake my head feeling suddenly fuzzy from the party. The man tilts his head. “I’m Kiezan, I don’t think we’ve met.”
I swallow, forcing myself to get a grip. His eyes are wide and amber. His hair is loose and tied behind his head with a single braid. He’s handsome. I smile at him. “I’m y/n.”
He smiles back at me. “Pretty name,” he reaches his hand out, “do you want to dance?”
I take his hand without thinking, allowing myself to get swept away once again in the enthrallment of the party. He is a good dancer and he leads me through the crowd with ease. The drums pound loudly and we sway our bodies, matching the rhythm, the heat of his body melting into mine.
I catch Neytiri’s eyes from across the floor. She nudges her head as if to say, oooo. I roll my eyes and shrug. It’s nice dancing with Kiezan but it isn’t amazing. I don’t feel that warmth in my stomach or flutter in my heart. It’s just nice.
My eyes move from Neytiri, across the crowd and up to the stairwell where a familiar frame leans against the wall. I jolt. Kiezan’s hands trail down my side as I watch the figure lean forward. There is something familiar about their stature…
“You like dancing?” Kiezan’s whispers in my ear, his hot breath hitting my neck, making me feel suddenly sick. The figure on the wall immediately straightens before whipping around and disappearing up the stairs. I freeze as I watch their braided hair swing behind them. It’s Tsu’tey.
I shove Kiezan’s hands off me. He grunts in surprise. “I’ll be back,” I muster as I run into the crowd. He calls after me but I can’t make out what he said.
There was something about Tsu’tey’s posture, the way he was watching; it sparked a feeling in me, one I can’t discern. I’m following after him and I’m not even sure why. I guess I’m curious about him. Maybe he’s upset? He should be enjoying the celebration… After all, it is for him.
I make it through the crowd and up the stairs. The air feels cool as it hits my skin. It’s darker here as I walk deeper into Hometree, searching for any sign of him. I keep going, my heart thudding in my chest. Why am I nervous? It’s just Tsu’tey.
After a while, I’m nearly at the top of Hometree and I haven’t seen him. This was stupid. What was I thinking just going after him? He doesn’t need me. I shake my head, silently scolding myself before turning around.
“Y/n?” Tsu’tey’s voice stops me right in my tracks. I slowly turn to find him standing between an archway that leads outside onto a branch. He peers curiously at me. He’s wearing a yellow and red beaded chest piece that brings out the gold in his eyes. I swallow.
“I, uh,” I mumble, struggling to find words, “I was wondering where you went.”
His eyes grow. “I just needed some space.”
“Oh, right, I’ll leave you to it,” I say awkwardly.
“Would you like to join me?” Tsu’tey asks before slamming his lips shut like he hadn’t expected to ask me that. I raise my eyebrows in surprise. A breeze floats in from the archway, blowing his loincloth softly. My heart begins to pound again as I nod my head.
He turns and walks through the arch. I follow him to find myself on a branch, far above the ground. The night sky is clear and the moons illuminate the forest beneath us. I gasp in delight as I take in the sight.
Tsu’tey hums under his breath, “I love it up here.”
He sits down, letting his long legs dangle over the edge of the branch. I sit down next to him, making sure to leave a bit of space between us. I take a deep breath, tasting the sweetness of the air. “I can see why,” I reply.
“I wanted to thank you,” He says as he looks out at the view.
I tilt my head, my lips turning to the side. “For what?”
“You didn't tell the Olo’eyktan about my injury,” he continues as the moonlight hits his high cheekbones, “you could have gotten much praise but you chose not to tell.” He looks at me, his eyes containing a feeling that I can’t quite place. “You are unexpected.”
My ears perk at his words. I’m not sure how to respond. I clear my throat and shrug, trying to seem nonchalant. “You don’t need to thank me for that.”
“Hm,” he hums as he returns his gaze to the forest. Pandora is gorgeous at night. I’m constantly awestruck by the forest and the Omatikaya. Tsu’tey, despite living here his whole life, seems to still appreciate the beauty of it all. All the way up here, away from any noise.
“You don’t like celebrations, do you?” I ask him.
He lifts his head at this and lets out a little laugh. “You are observant.”
“I am a scientist,” I remind him, “and not a useless one.”
He looks at me, his eyes gleaming with remembrance. “No,” he agrees, “certainly not a useless one.”
My cheeks heat and I quickly look away. “So, why don’t you like parties?”
He shrugs. “Too many people in one space.” I can’t argue with that. There were so many bodies, all of them dancing, it could easily become overwhelming. I drag my fingers along the bark of the branch.
Tsu’tey inhales. “Kiezan seemed to like dancing with you.”
I whip my head towards him, my eyebrows raised and mouth slightly open. “What?”
Tsu’tey reaches up and scratches his forehead. “Oh, I just saw you guys. Nice that you have made friends but…”
“But what?” I scrunch my eyebrows together.
“You could do better than Kiezan,” he says like it’s a fact as his tail flicks behind him.
A laugh escapes, full of disbelief and bewilderment. Why is Tsu’tey talking to me about this? His ears flatten against his skull for a moment before returning to normal.
“What friends would you recommend?” I ask playfully.
“Neytiri,” he begins as he counts on his fingers, “any of the hunters, not Jake but I suppose he is your brother, so...”
I laugh again, the sound rumbling from my stomach. Tsu’tey’s eyes soften. I shake my head. “Okay, good recommendations,” I say lightly, “so who are your friends then?”
He freezes. His entire body goes rigid. My heart sinks into my stomach. Did I say something wrong? I bite my lip as Tsu’tey rubs his hands together as if he is contemplating what to say next.
An ikran crows in the distance, piercing the silence between us as I wait for Tsu’tey to say something. I scratch the bark beneath my fingers anxiously.
Tsu’tey blows out a breath. “I had a best friend, a finance, I loved her so very much,” he says and the deepness of his voice pains me, “her name was Sylwanin.” My heart sinks lower into my body as I recognize the name of Neytiri’s sister. I hold my breath, waiting for him to say more. His lips turn downward as he stares at his hands. He looks beaten down, vulnerable. I’ve never seen him look like this.
“She must have been pretty amazing,” I say softly.
He nods. “She was killed by skypeople.”
I gasp. I didn’t know that part. My brain searches for something to say, anything, but no words form as I watch the grief stricken man before me.
“That is why I hated you so much,” Tsu’tey says, his voice barely above a whisper, “every time I saw you, I saw the enemy.” He turns to me, his face open, his eyes full of pain and something else– something hopeful. “But I was wrong.”
My heart springs back into my chest and flutters. I blink a few times, processing his words. “I understand,” I reply, “when my brother died… I felt so lost. So lost that I came to a whole other planet.”
Tsu’tey’s face is somber as he nods. A shared sense of understanding floats between us. The same kind of understanding as when we hunted silently. We allow our pain to mingle quietly between us, not needing to speak to know it is there. The only sound is the chitters of animals beneath us.
After a while, I decide to lighten the mood. It is our celebration after all.
“I guess I should go back,” I say as Tsu’tey turns to me, “since I need to go find some better friends.”
“Ah,” Tsu’tey replies, “I’ll be your friend.”
My mouth falls slightly open. Warmth spreads through my whole body, starting at my toes and into my fingers. My lips split a part into a wide grin. He spoke to me in Na’vi. Friends.
I nudge his shoulder as my grin turns into a smirk. “Who said I want to be your friend?”
~~~
Hi! Thank you so much for reading <3
I'm sorry I took so long to post, I've been having bad writers block lol
Let me know what you think of this part and if you have any feedback :)
Taglist: (i will be adding new people for next part!) (thank you all sm))
@qu33n0fth3n3rds @star-dusst @smol-book-nerd @elegantkidfansoul @h0n3y-sug4r @aonungs-tsahik @kpopslur @perseny @myheartfollower @perilous-pasta @zilena9 @galaxyfruits @tanchosanke @eternallyvenus @glitterandgoldfinds @willow-sages
#avatar 2#avatar#avatar 2009#avatar 2009 x reader#tsu'tey x you#tsu'tey#tsu'tey x reader#tsu'tey avatar#avatar fanfiction#avatar the way of water#jake sully#jake sully x reader#jake and neytiri#neytiri#neytiri x you
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Oc-tober Day Three – Haunted House
Yandere Supernatural Harem(Angel, Demon, Reaper) – Alasdair, Baron, Maddox
Word count: 1.5k
Tw: Violence and blood
“Suspect in multiple robberies is still at large. It is advised to-"
You shut off the tv as you walk by; sliding your jacket onto your shoulders. You had been invited to a haunted house hosted by none other than your housemates at one of their brother’s house across town. You use housemates as a loose term due to the fact you had little say in the matter. The combined three – demon, grim reaper, and your very own guardian angel- had taken up residency in your home for the better part of a year. They’re overprotective and barely give you space to breathe, but you’ve made your peace with their continued presence.
-
Following the instructions given to you leads you to a three story house overlooking some beach. The yard is decorated in painted lawn gnomes and the garage is open; flashing lights and fog rolling onto the driveway. One of the gnomes holds an “enter here” sign pointed towards the old gate. You do as such, the door shutting as you step inside.
“Welcome…”
You navigate the foggy domain with your hands in front of you, taking small steps so that you don’t trip. You can barely see anything, an open window keeping you from asphyxiating your only source of light. You nearly trip over and erupted tombstone, and scream at its feet ahead; rotted face peering through smog. Just a zombie prop. You continue a little further, bumping into a wall of black. Tilting your head up to face whatever it was, you’re greeted by a skeletal grin pointed at you. You freeze.
The being’s blue eyes lock onto yours; shimmering like sapphires. It’s jaw hangs open in a single breath; the room growing colder as it exhales. The wind blows the smoke from its face; revealing its bony face to be nothing more than face paint.
“Maddox?”
The reaper nods. “Hi…”
You look at the rest of their body. They were dressed like a stereotypical grim reaper down to the plastic scythe they weld. They look a bit dejected, but smile faintly in your presence.
“Did I scare you?”
“A bit.”
They sigh. “That makes me feel slightly better about this. Baron made me put it on in exchange for letting me do the majority of the decorations. I wanted to be a nurse. Halloween is still new to me, but it seems fun. Can we try this.. trick or treating later?”
“Sure.”
They point towards the garage door. “The others are inside. You’ll find them eventually. I’ll be here until you’re all done.”
“Alright. See you later then.” You head out the door; following the blood stained, sheet covered walls to the next location. The trail leads you to the living room. It seems relatively normal except for two glasses filled with a dark liquid on the coffee table. One has lip marks around its rim. You pick up the other and inspect it. It’s grape juice.
“oh~ has a little human come to join me in my den?”
You hear the sound of flapping wings; wind kicked up behind you as a black feather falls on your shoulder. You’re greeted by a horned figure; their points positioned in an angle that remind you of a broken halo. Four wings protrude from his spine; his body visible from the torso up as they wrap around him. He wears a sleeveless, open back shirt; black lines marked on his dark skin. His usual bow tie is replaced for a collar with an upside down cross. He sports a toothy smile; eyes flashing red.
“Hello, Y/n.” Alasdair purrs. “It’s so lovely of you to join me.”
You step back as the angel steps closer, falling onto the approaching couch. He looms over you, reaching back to grab the untouched glass. He rests his hand on the cushion besides you as he leans in, the glass bushing your bottom lip.
“You know, Baron gave me this role because he thought it would be a good laugh. He seemed to think he could decide everyone’s costume since Maddox eventually caved. He probably assumed I’d chicken out last minute…” He brings his arms around your neck, breath fanning your lips as his lips cress it. “but I’ve decided to embrace it.”
A smack against the glass panel of the backdoor catches your attention. You gently push Alasdair aside to see a football rolling into the grass. Curious, you walk outside and pick it up; a shout heard from across the field.
“Hey! Y/n! Throw it over here!”
You look up. The entire backyard had been transformed into an American football field. A player waves excitedly to you from the opposite goal. You’re unable to make out his face due to his helmet, but you see the faint pink hue of his eyes.
“Oh Lord, he was serious.” Alasdair steps outside; heels clicking against the patio as he folds his arms. “Baron! Get your ass over here right now!”
Baron runs across the field in record pace; a 666 displayed proudly on his shirt. The seven foot tall devil had been reduced to an even six feet and just as muscular. “What?”
“What the hell are you wearing?”
“I’m a football player! What else would I be.”
“You’re supposed to be scary!”
“And you are? The only thing I see you trying to do in that outfit is making my mate horny!”
“You choose the costume for me!” Alasdair sighs, rubbing his temple to calm the forming headache. “Alright. Y/n, please go back inside. This could last for a minute and I don’t want you to hear it. There’s refreshments in the kitchen and dinner will be prepared shortly.”
You walk back inside and shut the door as the screaming match picks up. Without direction you aimlessly wander the large house for longer than you’d like to admit. It wasn’t going the best for them in the scare factor, but you admired the dedication. You eventually find the kitchen and someone inside, looking through the drawers.
“Hello? Are you Baron’s brother?” Upon a second look you can see that he’s not just looking through the drawers, but dumping their contents into a large bag on the floor. He seems to notice where your eyes have trailed as he picks up a knife from the counter. You slowly back away as he approaches.
“Look I don’t want any trouble…”
He continues to walk towards you, clutching the knife so hard his knuckles go white. You bump into something as he charges; bracing for what’s to come. All that does is the splatter of something warm on your face and an arm around your chest.
“Don’t you fucking dare.”
You open your eyes to see claws in the man’s chest; the knife falling to the floor as they’re ripped free. Blood trickles down Baron’s arm as he lifts it to his face. He shoves his fingers to the gates of his helmet and takes a lick; reaching at the taste.
“Even your blood tastes like shit.” He spits. The robber lays eyes widened on the kitchen floor as Alasdair rushes in.
“What happened? We sensed that you were in danger.”
“Pencil dick over here tried to stab Y/n so I killed him”
Alasdair walks over to see the damages. “Honestly, Baron. It’s not like he didn’t deserve it, but try not to be so messy with it. Besides, he’s still alive.”
A spear of light appears in his hand as Alasdair stabs the man through his heart with his blade. The man twitches from the force before going limp. Alasdair kicks his outstretched arm back to his blood. He lifts his head up to shout. “Hey Maddox! We got another one.”
“I’m already on it.” The grim reaper appears at the man’s side; taking off their gloves and placing their hand on his head. His body shrivels until it crumbles away into human shaped piles of ash that slowly break away. “He’s been taken to the sands of time. You don’t have to worry about him getting a lighter sentence.”
“We still have to clean up.”
“Do we really have to?” Baron retorts. “There’s already like twenty bodies buried around this place. The most C.C will be mad about is what we did to the gnomes.”
“I don’t want to touch vermin ashes either, but it’s the right thing to do.”
“Should’ve made him swallow his own tongue.”
In the time they had spent feeding you and caring for you were sick; you forgot the true horror of your band of misfits. They were willing to kill for you at the drop of a dime, and already had in the past. Retribution wasn’t in the cards for anyone who crossed you; their bodies destroyed by powers like no other and their souls dragged to a place where none could return from.
Maddox takes off their robes and drapes it over your shoulders. “Happy Halloween, Y/n.”
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere oc#yandere scenarios#yandere imagines#yandere x you#yandere headcanons#male yandere#yandere insert#yandere demon#yandere angel#yandere grim reaper#yandere drabble#yandere x y/n#yandere ocs#yandere oc x reader#yandere x darling#halloween event#yandere monster#yandere teratophilia
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Meet Me By Moonlight
Words: 1563
Ship: Millie/Lazav
The scent of fresh roses wafted through the air, and Millie sighed softly. They were sitting on a marble bench in the middle of a gorgeous sunlit park; birds sang, leaves rustled, and they were all alone in this perfect world.
Except for him.
The mysterious stranger, wearing a leather cloak and smelling of sandalwood and geraniums, manifested from behind a bush. Millie couldn’t ever see his eyes, though sometimes, they swore they caught a cryptic glimmer shining from under the shadow of his hood. His shaggy blond hair hung loose around his scarred chin. The half-elf had wanted so badly to ask if they could remove his hood, just once – but for some reason, their throat closed up whenever they went to ask.
The stranger came closer, and even in a dream, Millie could feel the power reverberating off of him. “My dear girl,” he purred, extending a hand to them. “Walk with me.”
Millie stood, their teacup-length dark blue skirt swishing around their knees. The stranger’s hands were calloused and warm to the touch, and he squeezed their dainty little hand in his as he led them down a pathway lined with pink and white roses.
The stranger plucked a white rose from one of the bushes and turned to Millie, placing it behind their ear. “There.” His lips curled into a sly smile beneath the shadows, and Millie couldn’t stop themself from leaning against him slightly. He was a blazing fire, and they were a fledgling moth, completely drawn into him.
“How come I never get to see you outside of dreams?” Millie asked as he led them further down the path.
“I’m a busy person,” he replied nonchalantly.
“But you make time to see me in dreams,” the half-elf said, glancing up at him curiously. “What are you doing right now? Are you awake?”
“Hard to say.”
“You could be a little more forthright.”
“That’s beyond my nature, kisa.”
Millie tried not to roll their eyes. This stranger, charming as he was, disliked when Millie behaved impolitely, or like a brat. And being an impolite brat included pressing him too hard for information, or outwardly disapproving of his mercurial, whimsical speech.
“Though…” the stranger began, stopping in his tracks. A clearing had opened before the two, with a white fountain in the middle. He tugged Millie’s hand slightly, urging them forward. The sky had begun to darken. Even in dreams, the stranger distorted all sense of reality.
“Though what?” Millie asked, trying to keep their tone even, mild.
“I want to see you. I want you to see me.”
Millie’s heart nearly leapt from their chest. “Really? Where? When?”
“Patience,” he chided, and Millie deflated a bit. “In the Tenth District, in Precinct Five – where the light of the full moon first hits Ravnica – that’s where you’ll find me.”
Another riddle. Still, Millie tried to be cheerful. He wanted to meet them – really meet them! And if they were being honest, someone putting in the effort to court them in their dream was more than could be said for any past crush or failed fling. The half-elf grinned in spite of themself. “I’ll find you,” they said.
“I know you will.” The stranger tipped their chin up with one finger, and Millie saw that mystical glimmer under his good once more.
Then, they awoke.
—
Days of research at the Ismeri Library had led Millie to this place: Dinrova Heights. The half-elf pulled their plaid overcoat tighter around their body. The night was clear and chilly; the full moon cast deep shadows over the streets. Millie knew they were in Dimir territory, but they hoped their mysterious paramour was watching out for them.
Still, the Dimir weren’t all bad – during the Invasion, Millie had helped a few agents out with healing spells, fresh food, and a bed to sleep in, and in turn, the agent had kept the Phyrexians at bay. Perhaps they were safe here, regardless of the stranger’s influence.
The sign at the front of the building came into sharp focus.
WELCOME TO THE DIMIR PUBLIC OFFICES. NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR DEATH OR LOSS OF PROPERTY. BASEMENT OFF-LIMITS.
That was inviting.
The Dimir were thought to be destroyed during the invasion, but anyone with half a brain knew better. Some of the lights in the Dinrova building were still on; the building itself was in decent shape, all things considered. A few windows had been boarded up, but the majority just had the blinds tightly shut, save for a few busybodies working furiously in the upper echelons.
Millie stepped inside the building, where a soft buzz marked their entrance. The lobby was seemingly empty, but the half-elf got the feeling that they were being watched. Suddenly, they were acutely aware they may have walked right into a trap – all in the name of romance, like an idiot.
The door swung shut behind them, and the Selesnya cleric swallowed hard. Nowhere to go but forward, they thought, setting their shoulders and marching to the elevator.
The elevator creaked open at their approach, and it seemed the entirety of Dinrova was inviting them further in. Millie stepped onto the rickety elevator and pressed the button for the top floor. The elevator dinged, the sound slightly distorted. The lift began its ascent, and Millie mentally prepared themself for whatever was going to happen next.
After a few moments, the elevator stopped moving, and the doors opened to a penthouse suite. It was lavishly furnished, if a bit dusty. Still, Millie knew this wasn’t what the stranger meant in his riddle, so they pressed forward, cautiously stepping into the apartment.
Through the kitchen, Millie could see a lush balcony, where moonlit danced on silver brick. The cleric tiptoed over to the door and exited to the terrace.
The terrace’s edges were surrounded by rose bushes adorned with pink and white flowers. This was the place, then! Millie felt a surge of pride as they walked forward. They tried to take a thorough survey of their surroundings, but even with the bright moonlight, it was difficult to make out much. Curse their mother for giving them her human eyes.
Millie was pulled from their thoughts by a soft hum, and they glanced around, their heart picking up speed. They took a cautious step further into the terrace, and then, they felt it: that aura of undeniable, absolute power, followed by the scent of sandalwood and geraniums. At the edge of the balcony, the stranger revealed himself, his leather cloak blown by the breeze.
Somewhere, deep within Millie, a name echoed: Lazav. It was as if his name had been inside them all along, hidden in their bones.
Beneath the shadows on his face, the stranger smiled.
“Millie,” he said pleasantly, extending his arms. “Come here. My clever girl.”
They obeyed – as if they could do anything else! – and tiptoed over to him, as if they were afraid to shatter this moment. Lazav took their hands in his, and they were just as warm and rough as Millie remembered. It was nearly overwhelming to stand this close to him; he radiated power, more power than Millie had ever witnessed. And he had taken interest in a lowly Selesnyan cleric, nearly abandoned by their own guild for their perceived ineptitude? This was a dream. It had to be. Right?
“I knew you would find me,” Lazav murmured. He tilted their chin up with the side of his pointer finger.
“Can I…” the half-elf’s throat felt dry, but they pressed forward. “Can I see your face?”
Lazav smiled gently. “You have earned it, haven’t you?”
Millie reached up and took his hood off, and they gasped. He was quite handsome, especially now that they could see his entire face. His blond hair had a lovely sheen in the moonlight, and his irises were like pure black ink. Crows’ feet crinkled up beside his eyes, and deep laugh lines framed his lips. The half-elf’s face warmed. This was their stranger? How had they gotten so lucky?
Lazav leaned closed, and Millie closed their eyes, allowing him to fill their senses completely. When he kissed them, it felt like they were falling through a starlit void, all other sensations melting away, replaced by him and him alone. Briefly, Millie wondered if they were dying; how else could they feel so close to heaven?
Millie followed Lazav’s lips as he pulled away, and the cloaked man chuckled. When Millie stood on their tiptoes to try and kiss him again, Lazav grabbed their cheeks in one hand, his thumb and fingers squishing the soft skin.
The half-elf couldn't help but pout, to which Lazav laughed, and Millie couldn't tell if they were more furious at or desperate for him. “Oh, poor thing,” Lazav cooed, his voice soft yet mocking. He pulled Millie's face a little closer but refused to kiss them again, and smirked at their neediness. “Am I breaking your heart?”
When Millie didn't reply, he finally leaned close again, allowing his lips to grace theirs. “There,” he said when he pulled back. “That's better, isn't it?”
The half-elf nodded dreamily. “I found you,” they mumbled, more to themself than him, still dazed by his kiss.
“You did. Now, you have me…” Lazav held them flush against his chest. “And I have you.”
What a wonderful thing, to be his.
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INTRODUCING MAXINE ‘MAX’ HUMMEL. 🧡
BASICS:
Full Name: maxine violet hummel
Nicknames: max, maxie or maximilian (nick-named by her father)
Age: 27
Date of Birth: september 23rd, 1994
Hometown: hathaway, north carolina
Current Location: hathaway, north carolina
Gender: cisfemale
Pronouns: she/her
Sexual Orientation: bisexual
Religion: humanism
Occupation: receptionist at all american tattoo & piercing
Education: hathaway community college
Living Arrangements: lives with a roommate
Language(s) Spoken: english & spanish
Aesthetics: the smell of cookies fresh out the oven, flannels, the sound of a guitar strumming
PHYSICAL APPEARANCE:
Faceclaim: zoey deutch
Height: 5′ 4″
Eye Color: brown
Hair Color: brown
Piercings: earlobes, nose ring
Tattoos: a small butterfly on her right hipbone, a group of bats (stranger things inspired tattoo) on her right forearm, a saying on her ribcage that says, “not all those who wander are lost”, and a bride of frankenstein inspired tattoo on her left forearm
Fashion Style: depends on the mood she’s in. she can go from very tomboyish to full blown stevie nicks, 70s vibes, owns a lot of black clothing
FAMILY:
Mother: elizabeth hummel, deceased
Father: burt hummel
Siblings: kurt hummel
Pets: waffles, bulldog
PERSONALITY:
Sun Sign: libra
Moon Sign: capricorn
Rising Sign: virgo
Label: the facade
Goals/Desires: travel around the world, visit greece and have a summer fling with three men who one of whom may potentially be her future baby daddy
Fears: not being good enough, failing
Likes: breakfast food, the moon, bottomless mimosas, the color red, horror movies (still won’t watch IT, clowns are a BIG NOPE), the sound of rain, vinyl records, fashion, spending too much money on stuff she doesn’t need but has convinced herself she needs it
Dislikes: people chewing with their mouth open, the word “moist,” birthdays (except her own), onions, people who don’t wash their face, when people say “everything happens for a reason,” bras that hook in the front, the heat, funerals
Positive Traits: independent, creative, confident, realistic
Negative Traits: petty, impatient, stubborn, critical
Habits: hums when she cooks, when she’s lying her nose flares, plays with her rings when she’s feeling anxious
Hobbies/Skills: yoga, playing instruments, mixology
FAVORITES:
Film: scream, thor: ragnarok
Book: pride and prejudice by jane austen
Song: running up that hill by kate bush
TV Show: stranger things
Food: breakfast food, especially waffles
Drink: white russian
Color: red
Weather: fall
HEADCANONS:
Maxine Hummel’s life depended on music, whether it was playing, singing or composing. From a young age, she made it crystal clear that music was her passion. Her first steps were urged on by the rhythm she heard from the radio. As far as she could remember; there was never a moment when she wasn’t listening to something one way or another. The brunette drove the Hummel household crazy with her constant beating on pots and pans – making a beat out of anything she could get her tiny hands-on, finding rhythms, and putting on shows for whoever would stop and listen. Every time someone brought out a camera, Max hammed it up so hard she nearly gave herself whiplash. It was apparent that Max had a knack for making music; which suited her as she always wondered what went on behind the scenes and how a song was created.
Her first instrument was the piano, and she started taking lessons when she was five. To Burt and Elizabeth Hummel – they figured, why stop there? They proceeded to hire tutors to teach her how to play the violin, the drums, the guitar – nearly every instrument imaginable. When it came to music, Max was a fast learner, although she would easily get frustrated at times, her tutors had always described her as ‘brilliant,’ with one of them dubbing her as a ‘little prodigy in the making.
When high school and college came around, she signed up for as many music courses as she could. In her eyes, she figured if she learned other instruments – it would suit her best, to keep her diverse. Thus, she started learning a bit of everything she hadn’t already learned. Messing around with software, Max didn’t know what she was doing, but it was something she was never getting bored of – creating different tunes and sounds.
For her 25th birthday, her dad got her the most precious items she’d ever own in her life; a Gibson Custom True Historic 1959 Les Paul, a synthesizer, and a professional pad controller. They are her loves, and most importantly, her pride and joys. Any opportunity Max had to break out her guitar or create beats were ones she was more than likely to take.
Loves dad jokes and will probably make a pun out of anything when the opportunity arises.
She’s got an obsession with horror movies. Although the movie “IT” scared her as a kid, thus creating her fear of clowns. To this day, she still hasn’t seen the movies.
Max’s a pack rat and will hold on to anything that was once important to her.
If you’re a fan of gluten, watching bad TV shows or anything involving breakfast food, she’d love to be friends.
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Hello! I'm in love with the way you write c! Ranboo like hsgsj- amazing! So I would like a request Yandare c! Ranboo and tubbo with a soft reader that is oblivious on how they act twords them but loves them unconditionaly (just fluff please maybe maybe put a Micheal seen in there as well because Micheal is the best character 😌)
I think this is the best compliment I have ever received... Thank you so much🤍🖤
I didn't know whether or not to do headcanons or a full-length fic, so I went with a shorter story if that's alright. ^^ if it's not feel free to send another request!
FYI THIS CAN BE SEEN AS PLATONIC OR ROMANTIC
Too Sweet (For This World) Yandere!C!Ranboo x F!Reader x Yandere!C!Tubbo
It was very common for you to see something out of the corner of your eye, but when you looked, you only saw a bunch of purple particles drifting slowly towards the earth due to gravity. You just assumed there were quite a few endermen still hanging around Snowchester, or some of the goats had come down from the mountains when you saw small little horns peeking out from behind bushes.
There were a couple times a day where you accidentally and very conveniently bumped into Ranboo out in the crater of L'Manberg or Tubbo when walking around Snowchester. It honestly was funny to you that you always seemed to bump into them when you were feeling sad or lonely. Plus, after talking to them and spending time with them, your problems almost magically seemed to disappear!
Such as, there was one time when you were helping clean up the red vines around buildings and Fundy was nagging at you for being so slow or bad at doing everything. After storming away and ranting to Ranboo about it on the verge of tears, Fundy practically scrambled up to you the next day shaking and almost crying, apologizing for every single thing he's ever said or done.
Huh... Maybe he felt that bad about it to the point where he was crying?
Although Fundy never said anything mean to you again, he also stopped hanging around you completely.
When you mentioned this to Tubbo, he explained that Fundy must not have been a real friend and that he and Ranboo would always be there for you before anyone else.
Once the mansion was built, the two platonic husbands eagerly invited you to stay with them, even saying they had Foolish make a room specifically for you! At first, you quite enjoyed your home around L'manberg, but then one day you returned home to a wall of your home completely destroyed by vines, deeming it unlivable. Although a tad convenient..
Tubbo and Ranboo had heard about it through your sobs when you called them, saying you had no clue what to do anymore. They had arrived at your side in almost minutes and quickly helped you pack and move everything to the mansion.
"I thought Snowchester was like... Half a day's walk away from here..." You sniffed, rubbing your red and puffy eyes. The two men of greatly varying heights tensed up momentarily.
"We were in the area." They both blurted out at the same time before glancing at each other.
Tubbo cleared his throat first, "I was in the nether, but luckily for you, I was close to the old L'manberg portal!" He smiled softly at you as you three walked away from your old home.
"M-Me too!" Ranboo coughed awkwardly, causing Tubbo to shoot him an odd look that you decided to brush off, "Now, uh, come on! Michael needs to meet his new mother!"
You blinked in surprise at the new title but didn't question it much, assuming it was simply just a title. Unbeknownst to you, your two best friends already thought you were part of their platonic relationship, despite you never agreeing nor denying, or them even asking.
It took a few days, but the zombie piglin warmed up to you and practically saw you as another one of his parents, which made Ranboo and Tubbo extremely happy. Instead of placing you into one of the regular rooms, they had Foolish turn the basement into two heavily secured rooms a few days before your house had been destroyed, strangely enough, and even designed one perfectly to your liking!
After washing the fruits you had, you walked towards the bookshelf and pulled on the fake book that caused the shelf to swing open. You walked down the quartz stairs after shutting the hidden door, then made your way up to one of the two doors with a pink sign with 'Michael' written in yellow cursive paint. Punching in the code, the iron door slid open and you stepped in before closing it behind you.
A loud cooing grunt was heard and the sound of quiet tapping echoed through the room before a pair of arms wrapped around your leg. "Hello, Michael." You giggled softly as Michael made grabbing hands up towards the bowl of fruit. Placing it down on the table, the child eagerly ran over and began munching on the food as you brushed over the books on the shelves to find one you haven't read to Michael before. "What about... The story of Persephone?"
A disappointed grunt was your only response.
"Guess I did read that one... Hm... Oh! What about the story of Icarus?" This time his response was a happy squeak and tippy taps of his hooves against the warm quartz floors. You sat down in the rocking chair and waited until the child scrambled over and jumped into your lap.
You opened the book and began reading to him for an hour until your eyes slowly slid shut to the quiet snores of the child of your two best friends, who at this point was beginning to see you as a mother.
Quiet 'meh' sounds and 'vrrr'ing noises and a dim flash woke you up from your spot in the rocking chair. Cracking open your eyes, your arms shifted around the nether hybrid as you saw Tubbo holding a camera making happy bleating noises, while Ranboo, who was the source of the buzzing noises, took the book you had been reading from your limp hand to put it back on the shelf.
"What time is it?" You murmured softly to keep the child asleep as you rubbed the back of your stiff and sore neck.
"It's about 5:30pm. Still rather early. Tubbo walked over and gave you a gentle yet affectionate headbutt while he scooped Michael up from your lap to bring him to bed. This caused an odd whining noise to come from the enderman hybrid before he quickly walked over and rested his forehead against yours, resting it there for a few moments before pulling back, his cheeks flushed the same colours as his eyes.
You giggled softly and gave him a gentle pat on the head as he helped you up. He held onto one of your hands as Tubbo eagerly went for the other, jokingly sticking his tongue out at Ranboo who gave a noise of mock offense, causing you three to giggle softly as you left Michael's room and went upstairs.
Tubbo and Ranboo weren't big fans of you leaving the basement on your own, and you were rarely allowed to leave the mansion even with the two boys at your sides. The former president told you it was because he heard rumours of Technoblade searching around for all the members of his cabinet back when he was in charge of L'Manberg, and he just wanted to protect you.
You saw no problems with his story as it was extremely believable. Your history with Technoblade hadn't been the cleanest and he would've definitely taken one of your canon lives back during the attack on L'Manberg, had a stray black and white firework not saved you that day. It had fired off and must've swerved a way that wasn't predicted, because it hit Technoblade hard enough in the chest to knock him away from you.
You don't remember much of that day, except for Ranboo immediately running over to you and dragging you away from the destruction and chaos. Thanks to him, you were almost completely scar free and standing proudly at three canons lives.
A gentle hand on your shoulder brought you back to reality and you saw two sets of eyes staring at you with concern. "Hey... Are you feeling okay?" Ranboo asked softly, tilting your head up to place his free hand against your forehead, "See. I told you she should be getting more sunlight, Tubbo!"
"I'm okay, I'm okay!" You laughed softly at their worry, rubbing your thumbs along the back of their hands, "Just... Remembering the war with Dream and Techno..."
"What about it?" Tubbo asked, bringing you into the living room to sit down with your friends on either side of you.
You pursed your lips together for a moment as you looked at the ground, "Just how... Scary Techno is. And how he was about to kill me without a care about who or what I was."
Angered growling and seething noises came from Ranboo and Tubbo as you felt their grasps tighten around your hands, almost to a painful degree. You looked up and saw their expressions stone-cold and steely although vastly different from each other.
Ranboo's green eye was purple, and the black tone of his skin was beginning to seep into the side with the lack of colour. The corners of his mouth were slowly splitting open wider and wider as his lips parted, allowing you to see the glowing purple colour inside his mouth.
Tubbo's was less obvious. His eyes were blank but also had a bright fire, one burning for revenge, reflected in them. His ears weren't flicking and neither was his tail, his entire body stiff except for a faint sound giving away the fact that his teeth were grinding together.
As much as you tried to endure it, the grip became too harsh and you couldn't help but give a small pained gasp. This caused all physical contact with you to suddenly vanish as the two boys immediately flung themselves away from you, horror and fear in their eyes.
"Oh my god! I'm so sorry!"
"Are you okay?! Do you need an ice pack?!"
"Or a bandage from my claws?!"
They were both kneeling on the ground in front of you with both of your hands in their grasps again. They repeatedly turned your hands in their own, testing the joints and checking for marks or bruising. "Boys, boys!" You laughed softly, placing your hands on their heads to ruffle their hair gently. You pulled your left hand adorned with two beautiful rings and held it up for them to see, flexing it and moving it around, "See? Perfectly fine. No pain whatsoever!"
While they seemed to have calmed down a lot, they still seemed to be extremely upset and guilty. "I'm still going to get an ice pack... We don't want our wife to be injured..." Tubbo murmured as he quickly got up and walked towards the kitchen.
"I will get started on dinner. And as an apology, I'm making your favourite. (F/f)." Ranboo tried to be a little more upbeat than Tubbo, but you could still see the small amounts of guilt as he turned and followed after the goat hybrid.
Sighing softly at their overreactions, you leaned back against the couch...
Before doing a double-take.
Adorned with rings?!
You quickly flung yourself forward again and looked at your left hand. On your ring finger were two diamond rings, one gold with a green gemstone, and the other silver with a black gemstone, both glistening a faint purple from enchantments...
...
When did these get put on you- wait... Did Tubbo say... wife?
#tubbo x reader#yandere tubbo x reader#ranboo x reader#yandere ranboo x reader#mcyt x reader#yandere mcyt x reader#mcyt#ranboolive#ranboo#tubbo#dream smp#dsmp#ranboo dsmp#ranboo dreamsmp#tubbo dsmp#tubbo dreamsmp#tubbo mcyt#ranboo mcyt
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Something ‘Bout You (Biker Natasha x Reader) Chapter 1
A/N: Hey this is a new series! I’ve been meaning to write something for her for a while now so here ya go enjoy!
MAIN MASTERLIST
MCU MASTERLIST
NATASHA ROMANOFF MASTERLIST
REQUESTS ARE FREE AND ENCOURAGED
SUMMARY: After Wanda announces her engagement a familiar face returns into your life.
“(Y/n)!”
You heard the familiar chime of the doorbell and the familiar excited voice of your friend fill the relatively empty store. You whipped your head to her just in time to see her barrelling toward you and captured you in a bone crushing hug.
“Whoa there Wands,” You said as you returned the hug, “did something happen or are you just that happy to see me?”
Wanda quickly released you from her vice grip, “oh nothing much happened,” Wanda paused before holding up her left hand, “except this.” On her left hand on her ring finger sat a beautiful vintage ring.
“Oh my god!” You exclaim smiling as you grab her hand to get a closer look at the ring, it was simple in design but it really suited Wanda. ‘When did this happen?!”
“Last night,” Wanda reveals happily her smile never deterring, “Vis and I were watching reruns of the Dick Van Dyke Show, I told him how Mary’s ring was beautiful and next thing I know he asks ‘is it as beautiful as this ring’ next thing I know he’s down on one knee with the ring in his hand asking me to marry him.”
“I’m so happy for you and Vis.” You congrat Wanda as you and her continue to talk about her engagement for a few more minutes.
“Actually Vis and I were planning on going to the city tonight to celebrate, are you busy?” Wanda asks. You take a quick look at your calendar finding nothing but closing the store on the agenda for tonight.
“Nope,” You respond, “just have to close the store.”
“Close early and Vis and I will pick you up,” Wanda said, “We’re bringing Pietro, Steve, Bucky, and Monica with us.”
You hesitate for a bit, but you take one look into Wanda’s pleading eyes, the same eyes that have gotten you into more than your fair share of trouble since highschool, next thing you know you’re nodding your head in agreement.
Wanda lets out a small squeal before enveloping you once again in a small hug before saying goodbye and that Pietro will pick you up by seven.
As you continue about your day, stacking books and working the register you start to wonder when the last time you actually had a date was.
During the slow rush you decide to check your calendar again. You flip through each page until finally you land three months prior where you had plans to meet up with the local coffee barista at some bar you can’t remember the name of. What you do remember is that the date ended with you buying a half quart of ice cream and watching reruns of Gilmore Girls.
You check the clock and check the store to find it empty. You decide now would probably be a good time to close and to start getting ready for the night in the city with Wanda and the rest.
You turn the sign on the door to ‘closed’ and push all thoughts of dating to the back of your mind.
---
You had just slipped your shoes on when you heard Pietro knock on your door in the familiar pattern he’s done since high-school.
You answer the door to reveal Pietro. You always thought he had looked handsome in that mischievous way. But when he wears that white button up and slacks with his hair gelled back he is a special type of handsome.
“Well damn don’t we look fancy tonight?” You say as Pietro noticeably checks you out in the same appreciation. You did a small turn in your black dress that fell just mid thigh.
“And you don’t look too bad yourself Princeza,” Pietro said as he offered his arm in an overdramatic gentlemanly style. Which you responded in kind, laughing slightly as you made sure to lock the door behind you before finally heading out.
---
You were back in your parents backyard, sitting in that hammock with a book in your hands. Nancy Drew had wormed her way into eleven year old you’s heart, with all of her adventures and detective skills.
Just as you were about to reach the climax of the book you heard a familiar voice.
“Whatcha reading today?” You look away from the book and spot a familiar blue haired girl the same age. She was the neighbor that moved in about three years ago, Natasha, who quickly became your best friend.
“Nancy Drew,”
“Again?”
“There’s more than one Natty.” You responded, next thing you know the book is lifted from your hands and Natasha is hovering over you with the book in her hands.
“Naaat.” You whine as you try to reach for the book only to have her expertly move it away from you.
“C’mon,” Natasha says as she makes her way to the bushes separating your yard and hers, “adventure awaits.”
You struggle a little as you make your way out of your hammock and through the lush bushes to Natasha who slips through the crack in between.
“Nat,” you warn lightly.
“I promise I’ll give you the book back,” Natasha promises, “but first we go on an adventure! Grab your bike and meet me out front!”
“Where exactly is this adventure?”
“Just grab your bike, chatty cathy!”
You hear her footsteps rush over to her bike as you rush to yours.
By the time you let your parents know you’ll be riding your bike and get to the front of your house Natasha is already waiting for you.
Together you both rode your bikes until finally settling on a clearing near the local park. There was this big oak tree and in front of it a huge rock as well covered in green moss.
For a while both you and Natasha played by either climbing on the rock and proclaiming yourselves rulers of the land, climbing the tree, playing pretend in the most kid way possible.
However you would catch glimpses sometimes, you didn’t know what, but it made you worry for her. Like how sad she looked, or scared.
Finally, after being worn out by playing you both lay on the grass beneath you and watch as the fireflies began to dance around the big oak looking like thousands of moving stars.
You were enjoying the bit of peace and silence when you felt her hand hold yours. You look over and see the blue haired girl still staring at the millions of fireflies with a smile on her lips.
“Thank you for being my best friend.” She said gently as you looked away from her and continued watching the fireflies dance, until the sun finally set and it was time to go home.
She never did give that book back.
---
“Princeza, we're here.” You hear the familiar accented voice say. You slowly open your groggy eyes to see the glittering lights of the city.
“How long was I out?”
“An hour.”
“So the whole car ride,” You say, you could see Pietro nod from the driver's side, “I’m sorry.”
“What for?”
“I was asleep the whole car ride, you were probably bored.”
“No, I wasn’t bored,” Pietro said, “I know you haven’t been sleeping much because of the store.”
Here it comes.
“You need to start working less Princeza,” Pietro continued concerned, “you spend all your waking hours at the store, tending to your books, and life is going to pass you by.”
“Pietro-”
“I don’t mean to be harsh or rude,” Pietro quickly added, “it’s just I see you all the time at the store and nowhere else lately. I get that the store is demanding, but just try to make some time for yourself. Promise me?”
You look at him and can’t refuse.
“I promise.”
You can start relaxing tonight.
---
You came to quickly realize that clubbing really wasn’t your thing.
A pile of random sweaty bodies ground on each other on the dance floor to music that hurt your eardrums.
It wasn’t that you were judging anyone for liking this atmosphere, it just wasn’t your cup of tea, you preferred to stay on the sidelines and watch your friends dance.
And the full bar proved that you weren’t the only one.
You had looked away for a second to order a beer when you spotted someone familiar.
It was dark save for the flickering lights that illuminated her every once in a while. You couldn’t place where you knew her but you knew that you knew her. It was in the way she walked with a certain grace and her eyes were sharp enough to cut through you and you imagined her tongue was the same way.
She must have noticed you staring because the next thing you know she’s staring right at you. Your eyes lock and that’s when it hits you.
You didn’t recognize her without her blue hair.
Natasha.
You panic and turn back to the bar to order that beer you were going to order about five minutes ago. You mentally beat yourself up, if you didn’t look like a creep before you definitely did now.
You were so busy mentally assaulting yourself that you didn’t notice the redhead sauntering her way to you and sit on the empty barstool next to you.
“Well if it isn’t Nancy Drew.”
You turn your head and see Natasha there beside you. Her hair was shoulder length and no longer blue. Now her hair was it’s natural elegant red color, her blue eyes sharper than you remember as well as her cheekbones. You noticed hints of tattoos peeking out from the collar and sleeve of her leather coat.
“You never did return that book.”
You both couldn’t help the laugh that erupted. Even though it’s been years somehow it almost feels like no time has passed.
Almost.
“So what’ve you been up to?” Natasha asked, “still into books?”
“Uh yeah,” You confirm, “I actually own a bookshop back home.”
You see Natasha smile from ear to ear before taking a sip of what was your beer now it seems to be adopted by Natasha.
“That’s so you,” Natasha said before taking another sip from the beer bottle.
“Well what about you?” You ask, “what have you been up to?”
You could see the hesitancy in Natasha’s face, just as she was about to answer, however you see a light brown haired male come up beside her.
“Hey Nat, I hate to interrupt but we got a Budapest situation over here.” Natasha swerved her attention to where he pointed at the blonde who was obviously drunk off her ass putting a six foot tall man into a choke hold. Which you had to admire and be impressed at.
“I guess that’s my cue Nancy Drew,” Natasha said as she took one last sip from the beer bottle before abandoning it. As she was making her way through the crowd but before she got too far you saw her turn around.
“What was the name of your bookstore again, Nancy Drew?!” She yelled over the crowd.
“Oh-um- Summertime Stories!” You call out, you catch a glimpse of something in her eyes before it disappears.
“I’ll see ya soon Nancy Drew!”
Oh how right she was.
#natasha romanoff#natasha and yelena#natasha x you#natasha x reader#natasha romanov#Natasha romanoff x reader#MCU#mcu natasha romanoff#marvel characters#marvel cinematic universe#marvel#marvel x reader#mcu x reader#x reader#x reader fluff#x reader smut
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🤍 Haikyuu WIP excerpts
preview post for hq because recently i showed sara a list of my works in progress and she laughed at me and then made a dn joke like this is 2015 or something. we got:
🤍 communal property /// ushijima x f!reader x tendou
🤍 sunshower /// atsumu x f!reader x osamu
🤍 corporate ethics /// kuroo x f!reader
anyway these are all terrible first drafts and i'm not sorry. however i am very very into these pieces and if you're interested in seeing them finished, you should tell me fr fr
🤍 communal property /// Ushijima x f!Reader x Tendou
Summary: Tendou shares everything with Ushijima—his food, his dorm room, even the AVs he likes. Why not his girlfriend, too?
Tags/warnings: poly relationship in progress (only you and Tendou are dating at this point), mild suggestiveness ??, s*ze k*nk
Status: 10k words written (holy fuck lol) out of ~11k total? this bitch better get finished is2g
After the match, your voice is hoarse from screaming but you still manage to yell congratulations for your boyfriend when you meet him and Ushijima outside the locker room in the stadium. You’re pumped on the adrenaline of the game, so you don’t even protest like you usually would when Tendou picks you up in the middle of your hug and lifts you off the ground effortlessly. “How was I? Awesome, right? I told you we would beat them!”
“You did, you so did—“ Even though your throat hurts, you can’t help gushing about every rally, every soul-crushing block, every impossible spike. “—and then the guy on the left thought he was clear to shoot it but you just—“ You throw your arms in the air and mime hitting the ball down like a blocker. “Wha-bam!—and the look on his face! I thought he was going to punch you!”
Tendou laughs and lays a sloppy kiss on your cheek, just as thrilled as you are by the win. “You really liked it that much? I thought you weren’t into sports.”
“I loved it! You were so cool! I can’t believe I’m dating someone so cool!” You wrap your legs around his back and hug his face close to yours, reveling in the fact that this weirdo belongs to you wholly and entirely, that you get to have him to yourself (well, other than his roommate). “And I’m not into sports, I’m into you.”
Tendou smiles in a way that makes the sides of his eyes crinkle up and little red patches bloom over his cheeks, a look that says, I like you so much (Y/N), I like you I like you I like you, except he’s probably trying not to be mushy like that since Ushijima is standing off to the side.
You feel a little bad for ignoring him (no one likes being the third wheel, even if he never shows signs of caring) so when Tendou sets you down you turn to Ushijima. “And you! Holy shit, Tendou said you were good, but I didn’t know you were that good. The ball when you hit it was super loud—honestly, how are your hands okay? If I hit it that hard I’d probably break something.”
“My hands are fine…this is normal for me.”
But just because you’ve got them here in front of you and you’re still pumped from the exhilaration of the win, you can’t help grabbing Ushijima’s hand and flipping it palm-up to inspect. True to his word, there’s no redness, just the calluses he’s built up on his long fingers. “Wow.”
“You don’t need to worry about Wakatoshi,” Tendou tells you, grinning and then making a face. “He’s a monster, he can handle it.”
“No kidding. You’re both monsters.” You put the base of your palm up against Ushijima’s to gauge the size of his hand against yours, and without prompting Tendou grabs your other hand to press against his own. Tendou’s fingers are a bit longer, but Ushijima’s are…thicker, more solid. Your hands look like a little kid’s in comparison. “Can I be honest? Half the time I was thinking I actually feel bad for the other team. If I had to take on both of you at the same time, I’d probably cry.”
You’re (mostly) joking, but it’s still a complete shock when you see the side of Ushijima’s mouth curl up a tiny bit. You’ve known each other for months at this point, but you’ve never seen him smile until now. Half of you is wondering if this is some kind of optical illusion caused by the atmosphere and the dim light of the stadium cutting through the evening, but the other half of you enjoys it. You made Ushijima smile. You did that.
“Don’t sell yourself short, (Y/N).” Ushijima says, tipping his head to the side.
“Yeah!” Tendou chimes in, resting his chin on top of your head and folding his arms around your neck from his place behind you. “I’m sure you could take both of us. Right, Wakatoshi?”
So that’s probably a sign.
🤍 sunshower /// Atsumu x f!Reader x Osamu
Summary: [Kitsune AU] You find an old Ō-Inari shrine in the woods that may not be as abandoned as it looks.
Tags/warnings: Shinto religion, this preview is biased toward tsumu oops, yearning/soft vibes
Status: 3.9k words written out of 5–6k? total
Atsumu was the one who found you.
That’s how he likes to talk about it, that he found you, like you’d still be wandering around lost in the woods if it weren’t for him. Osamu thinks you would have found your way back home eventually but Atsumu likes it better this way, this framing that makes it seem like they saved you.
It’s hard for him to tell time linearly the way humans do but you mention once that you’ve known them for a year and that seems to fit. It’s spring now, almost barely tipping into summer, and it was spring when Atsumu found you. He remembers because of the way it was raining: light and tender, a summer rain early in the season, each little drop tapping off a leaf and then rolling into the forest bed to be eaten up by the grass and the soil.
Atsumu likes the rain, likes the sweet earthy smell it makes and the way the plants look so lush and green and alive, like they’d bleed if he sunk his teeth into them. He was out in the woods because of the rain ('Samu was in the shrine, as usual, attempting to set buckets under the millions of holes in the roof so the rainwater wouldn’t pool and rot through the wood underneath). But Atsumu was half asleep in a tree when he heard you crashing through the undergrowth, tripping over ferns and snapping every twig in your path (thought ya might be a bear, he tells you later, that’s how loud ya were) but he wouldn’t really have woken up if he hadn’t heard you singing.
(The odd thing is, you weren’t actually singing. You remember that day as vividly as they do: the warm, humid air making your skin feel sticky under your yellow raincoat; the tiny raindrops filtering through the canopy and kissing your cheeks; the ink feathering out on the damp xerox of the old map you found in your great-aunt’s attic so you could barely make out the “X” that was supposed to mark the location of the lost Inari shrine… You were cursing how stupid you’d been to go on a wild goose chase into the mountains with no cell service and no marked trail to look for a shrine that no one had seen in decades. You definitely weren’t singing.)
But Atsumu remembers it differently. No matter how many times you explain that you were just talking to yourself, when he replays the sound of your voice back then (reaching and lilting and falling, the way the birds talk to each other in the early morning, except the music of it was poured into syllables and words), it sounds like you’re singing. He wasn’t sure at first, hadn’t heard a voice that wasn’t Osamu’s in so many years that he gets tired counting them, but then he saw you push into view from between two bushes and he thought, a human!
A girl, too—it was hard to say at first because you were wearing that weird, slick jacket of yours, so bright yellow it was like an oversized flower blooming out of the grass, but then you tilted your head up to feel the rain on your face and the hood fell down and he knew. Not just a human, a girl! Atsumu wanted to yell for Osamu, make him come and confirm that there was a person wandering around not a mile from the shrine. A real person! Singing and smiling and wiping the rain off her cheeks (does that mean you like the rain, just like he does? did you come out to feel it too?) But he also wanted to surprise Osamu so he hid his tails and his ears and came down from the tree and asked if you had lost your way in the forest, since you were so far from any path…
When you think back on this yourself you’re amazed that you just went with him: a strange boy (man?) wearing a fox mask and traditional Shinto priest robes, which were somehow pristine white and red despite him having appeared from nowhere in the middle of a dense forest, who told you he had no idea what direction the village was but he could take you to the Inari shrine you’d been searching for…well. Maybe you were too surprised to be wary, or maybe you were just exhausted and lost. But you like to think you had a sense of it even then, the irrational belief that the boy in the woods was not just a boy in the woods.
Atsumu thinks you knew. Humans always understand, even when they try not to… He remembers, he took your hand that day in the forest and you saw that the claws on his fingers were too long to be human, and you said nothing because on some level you already felt it. Your skin was cool then, smooth and damp from the rain; he wanted to stop, run his hands up your arms, touch the places on your face where your mouth had been turned up at the corners and press his fingers into your cheeks.
🤍 corporate ethics /// Kuroo x f!Reader
Summary: [Office AU] The new junior marketing associate just happens to be Kuroo’s favorite camgirl, and he’s having trouble keeping his hands to himself.
Tags/Warnings: boss/employee, businessman!Kuroo as a reformed player, camgirl reader, this excerpt has a lil bit of 18+ content 👀
Status: 1.2k words written out of 4k? words total
Kuroo doesn’t watch porn.
It’s not, like, a moral principle or something. He has nothing against pornography. As far as he knows, it’s perfectly normal for single men. He just doesn’t like it…unless it’s you.
When he was in school it was easy. Being a teenager meant being so flooded with hormones that a warm breeze could get him up, and the adrenaline rush of winning a game was better than any big-titted porn actress faking moans into a shit-quality boom mic. Sure, he watched porn back then (what teenage boy didn’t?), but it was more out of curiosity than necessity. It was all kind of a mystery at that point, the way it can only be when you’re a clueless virgin and you and all your friends are too busy practicing for the next game to get girls.
Somehow Bokuto was the first one in their friend group to lose his virginity, and the memory of the dumbass self-consciously describing the experience has been lodged in Kuroo’s brain for the 10+ years since. “It was…I don’t know. She smelled good. You know how girls always smell good?” Bokuto’s hands twitched and his face was pink. “It’s just really…soft.”
Soft was right, Kuroo would reflect when he got laid for the first time a few months later. Soft, warm, wet. Sex was awkward at first, but before he knew it it was more natural than breathing.
It didn’t change much after high school, either. He didn’t get into volleyball for the groupies, but they didn’t hurt. There were girls when he played for his college team, more girls when he joined a business frat, so many girls he couldn’t keep track…they blurred together after a while. It didn’t take effort. You don’t need game when you’re 6’2 and you’re in the gym 40 hours a week, and you definitely don’t need porn.
So he never got into it. Now that he’s promoting volleyball instead of playing, things are more complicated. Kuroo’s never been the type who expects things to fall in his lap, but there are so many rules when it comes to dating in the real world. Good morning texts, anniversaries, flowers, parents. It’s exhausting. One time—seriously, just one time—Kuroo misses his girlfriend’s birthday to go watch a Jackals game, and the next time he sees her she throws her drink on him in public and keys his car. After that, Kuroo decides that until he’s ready to settle down there will be no more girlfriends. Which means no more reliable sex. Which means resorting to porn.
Which means you.
You, batting your eyelashes at the camera and biting the side of your lip. You, purring and mewing like a kitten. You, lying back on your pretty pink bedsheets in your pretty pink lingerie, sliding your hands between your legs. It takes Kuroo a full month to decide to pay for access to your website (Kenma’s unsolicited recommendation) but it takes less than five minutes for him to upgrade access to premium. You look like a wet dream—no, you look like the centerfold of every dirty magazine Kuroo managed to get his hands on when he was younger. Pristine and alluring and so deliciously out of reach.
And you make it so simple. No delicate emotional games with rules Kuroo never bothered to learn. No pretending to care how your day was. You untie the little bows on the side of your panties and lick your fingers and Kuroo just has to take his dick out and watch you. Getting off hasn’t been this easy for him since college. You’re a camgirl, you exist on his computer screen, and that’s how he likes it.
Which makes it a lot more awkward when Kuroo finds out that the only woman he’s gotten off to in the past…year, maybe?…somehow just got hired in JVA’s sports promotion department as his junior associate.
Your prim work blouse is buttoned up to the collar and your makeup is different, but he knows it’s you. You have to tell him your name twice because he’s too stunned to respond the first time, and even then he can’t summon up more of a response than a curt nod because his mouth tastes like dirt.
You smile a little awkwardly at his cool reception, and the hand you’d extended out to shake swings back down to your side. “Um, the guy at HR said he sent up my info yesterday…I’ll be working directly underneath you?”
Directly underneath me. Kuroo is taking a sip of his coffee when you say this. He doesn’t spit it out, but it’s close.
#haikyuu x reader#ushijima x reader#tendou x reader#atsumu x reader#osamu x reader#kuroo x reader#hq x reader#haikyuu#ushijima wakatoshi x reader#tendou satori x reader#atsumu miya x reader#osamu miya x reader#kuroo tetsuro x reader#haikyuu imagines
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Invisible String (8/?)
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female reader (Modern AU)
Description: James Buchanan Barnes, the owner of the most expensive-looking club in town and your new apartment. He was a dick and you hated him. What could possibly go wrong when you, the new girl in town, start bartending at his club to pursue your dreams?
Word Count: 2.4k words
Your parents’ house was exactly how you remembered it, but again, it had been only two months since you last saw it. Contrary to your usual life, a lot has changed in two months. You aren't working in a cubicle anymore, you're not going on random blind dates that your sister and mother plot for you. What you are doing is bartending in a town far away from your family. You're fake dating your boss who happens to be the most dangerous person in the town, at least that's what you've heard of the rumors, but so far, James has been nothing but non-threatening to you. Yes, he was mean in the beginning, but a lot has changed since then.
And now sitting in front of your parents with James beside you, eating lunch; you recall Barry's diner and you miss the food there. It's funny because you always thought that this was your home, your family and everything associated with them should make you feel at peace, but you were feeling everything but that. You were restless and anxious, and you wanted to go to that cozy dinner with James where Sally would tell you anecdotes about her life. You wanted to sit with James and watch him debunk the myths about his career that you believed were true your whole life. Turns out, he doesn't cut off people’s dick for disrespecting him. Who would have thought? And you decided that maybe you should stop reading those stupid mafia stories.
James sensed your discomfort, you don't know how he does that, but he always knows when something is bothering you. He brought his chair closer to you in hopes of providing you some relief. And it did, his presence made you feel at ease and you weren't sure how you felt about it. You knew you were dependent on him for comfort since the incident at his club, but being with him didn't make you feel caged.
You always thought that a relationship would make you feel stuck. That's why you never engaged in one, but with James, it felt liberating. Maybe because this wasn't real and the moment this turns real, it'll be a shithole. At least that's what you told yourself.
“So, what do you do, James?” your father asked, and you nearly choked on your food. James's hand involuntarily reached towards your back, his thumb running soothing circles while his palms patted gently.
“I own a club and a few other buildings in town,” your faux boyfriend answered, and you were thankful he didn't get into his other business. You wanted to ask about all the rumors in town and why people are so scared of him and why does everyone in the club carries a gun, but you were scared to ask. You feared that you wouldn't like the answers. Honestly, that's false, you weren't scared of the answers, you were scared that what if he closes himself again the moment you step into uncharted territory. And you really liked this fun, caring, swiftie James.
Everybody was sitting silently at the table which was unusual because usually family dinners were the place where everyone pointed out your faults. Carol kept glancing at your parents every few seconds and vice versa. Your brother-in-law, Nick, was focused on the food and their kids were taking a nap.
You were going to thank your stars for this peaceful lunch when your sister broke off the silence. “So, how did you two meet?”
Every head on the table turned towards you expectantly, waiting for you to explain how you met James. What were you supposed to say? That you met when you interviewed for your current job and he clearly rejected you?
Before the panic could make its way to the surface, James' palm landed on yours softly, grounding you. Your sister's eyes fell to your hands on the table and she scoffed.
“We're glad you're happy, but at least don't forget basic table etiquette,” She commented. How could you forget the ‘no hands on the table while eating’ rule? Just when you were about to remove your hand from the table, James held your hand and placed it on his lap, lacing his fingers with yours.
“Auntie Y/N!” A shriek made you turn behind, and you saw your nephew and niece running towards you with the biggest grin on their faces. Both the kids jumped in your embrace without a care of their surroundings and you stifled a laugh.
Bucky didn't like kids, hated them, to be honest. In his defense, what's there to like, they're always whining and crying, but seeing you attempting to straddle two 5-year-olds on your lap while their mother complained might change his opinions on the subject.
You didn't like kids either, except your nephew and niece. They were perfect in your eyes, but maybe you were a bit partial because you sort of shared genes with them. You were so focused on the stories Alec and Izzy were telling you that you didn't notice the eyes that were fixed on you. James looked at you with not only adoration, but also devotion. He knew if he kept looking at you like that, he'd be deep in shit, but it was too late now.
After dinner, you made your way to the bedroom, only to realize that there was one bed. Fuck. You really should have thought this through.
Before the embarrassment could seep in, James started collecting a blanket and some pillows. “I'll take the floor,” He said.
You frowned. “No, James. You've already done so much for me. Take the bed, please.”
James pretended not to hear you and started preparing his bed on the floor.
“Seriously?” You queried, slightly huffing at his childish behavior. “You're gonna pretend you didn't hear me. How old are you, five?”
Without saying a word, James started humming a tune and situated himself on the makeshift bed on the floor and closed his eyes.
You stomped your foot furiously, yeah, maybe you were a little childish too. Without muttering another word, you made your way towards the bed and tucked yourself in a comfortable position.
“You were saying something?” James asked, his voice laced with tease, and you huffed at his tomfoolery.
“Yeah, just how immature you are.”
“Sorry, I didn't hear that. What was that?” you couldn't see him, but you knew he was doing some theatrical actions by putting his hands on his ears for better listening or furrowing his eyes in feigned confusion. “That I'm so smart? Oh, why, thank you. You're not so bad yourself.”
“That's real mature, James,” you murmured, clearly not enjoying his antics.
A comfortable silence fell in the room. The only thing that could be heard was your breathing and the air conditioner that always sucked in your childhood room but your parents never thought it was a primary concern. Oh, yeah, also, you were staying in your teenage room with your boss. You tried telling your parents that you could get a hotel, but they insisted so now James could see one direction posters on the wall right in front of him.
You would have assumed that he fell asleep if he hadn't broken the silence. “I know it's not my business and you don't have to answer if you don't want to,” he paused, wondering whether he is crossing a line by asking you this. “But why do you let them treat you like that?”
You coughed in surprise, you clearly did not expect him to ask this. You thought maybe he was going to ask you who is your favorite one direction member. Anything really, expect this. “Wow, you do not beat around the bush.”
You could hear him shuffling and once he settled you were sure he was facing you. Well, the bed actually. You did the same, turning towards him. You couldn't see him, but it still felt so intimate.
“I'm honest with people I trust,” he informed and you smiled, thinking about the time when he told you he did not trust you or your intentions.
“What do I get in return?” you teased, although you would have told him without getting anything in return.
“What do you want?”
You debated for a minute whether you should go forward and just ask him so you did. “What do you do?”
You didn't expect him to actually answer. You knew that your relationship (whatever that was) with James had increased from where it was a few months ago. You deeply cared for each other and had mutual trust in the other. But you still didn't know about the actual work he did. Your realtor told you that he was a criminal, a mobster to be exact, and had sketchy connections with the mafia but you didn't know the exact nature of his work.
He signed heavily and you were ready to drop the subject, scared that it would only push him away again and you couldn't lose whatever you had this early.
“We provide weapons to the government at a cheaper price, eliminate problems or shootouts that the government is too scared to take the blame for,” he said, voice unwavering but you could sense the tension. Bucky thought that telling you about his work would make you fear him, and he didn't want to risk losing the progress he made with you, but he also knew that if he wanted you in his life in any form then he has to be honest with you. “We don't do the kind of stuff you're thinking of, it's mostly assisting the government to do stuff where they don't want to get their hands dirty.”
“Why?”
“How would you feel if the leaders of your country were involved in shady business?” It was a rhetorical answer, of course, you would feel unsafe, but your sleep-dazed brain was about to muster up an answer but he quickly spoke. “So if it backfires then they don't lose their men and women and can blame it on us, the criminals.”
“So that's why you weren't scared if I went to the cops? Because you kinda work for them?” you asked. His reaction made a lot of sense now, but some part of your brain hoped that he did that for you. That he would defy the police for you.
“Off charts yeah,” he answered, “Although that has nothing to do with why I wanted you to go to the cops. I wanted you to because what Rumlow did was unacceptable and he should pay for his actions.”
“Wow,” you didn't know what to say. Anything further could push him back to the 'I don't trust you' James and you couldn't risk that.
Bucky didn't want to elaborate further, “Your turn.”
“Sir, you just set yourself up for the biggest disappointment,” you joked, already imagining his reaction and smiling to yourself.
“I let them treat me like this because they are my family,” you replied honestly. “I don't have anyone else but them.”
Bucky knew all about the issues that come with family, but he didn't think you'd be the victim of it. Bucky realized that in his head, he had conjured up a version of you that was perfect, so if he were to know you better, it would decrease his crush on you, right?
Wrong. The more Bucky got to know you, the more he realized you weren't some angel and were just a vulnerable human like everyone, and the more he wanted you, all of you.
“Where does Rumlow come in this?” you questioned.
“His work is dirty like drugs, sex trafficking so he doesn't work well with government or any sort of authority,” he explained, “He's one of the problems they wanna eliminate but can't because he's too powerful. He works with Hydra.”
“Wasn't Hydra a myth?” you queried. You have heard stories about Hydra too, how Bucky was their rival. You assumed it was about territory or money. You know, like in the movies.
“Nah, doll, it's real. He's part of that organization and that makes him shielded from us and literally everyone.”
“So you're technically not… you know, killing people for fun like the mafia and all? You're like undercover agents,” you concluded and he shook his head, chuckling at the disappointment in your voice.
In your defense, you expected him to be the movie-type mafia boss who kills people for raising their voice but again, this is not a movie.
“If it makes you feel better, we smuggle weapons for the government. We're still criminals and dangerous,” he articulated, his tone laced with amusement at your reaction.
“No offense, but that's a horrible career. Is that what you wanted to do growing up?” you asked, yawning, your eyelids becoming heavy from the exhaustion.
“No,” he answered truthfully. “Not everyone gets a choice, doll. My dad was murdered when I was a kid and I was shoved into the business to protect my family.”
“Where are they? Your family, I mean,” you inquired, hoping you weren't overstepping.
“Ma basically hates me and my sister maintains her distance, but it's for her own safety.”
You didn't ask about them further, realizing his family was a touchy subject for him. You could relate to that. “What do you want to do?”
Out of all your questions and weird assumptions, this took James by surprise. No one asked him what he wanted to do. Hell, he didn't even ask him that, and now someone finally asked him, he didn't know what to answer. You understood his silence, you always understood everything James felt even without it being voiced. He generally hated when people predicted him, he prided himself on being unpredictable but not with you. James wanted nothing more than to just be Bucky with you.
“Don’t worry, you'll figure something out,” you mumbled, already drifting off to sleep.
James turned towards the opposite side. “Sleep well, doll.” he murmured, his breath growing even, matching yours.
TAGS: @bananapipedreams @akkinda10 @rivers-rambles21 @emmabarnes @goodcleanfunsis @valsworldofcreativity @boofy1998 @marvel-3407
#bucky fanfic#Bucky Barnes#bucky fic#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky x reader#bucky x you#mob!bucky x reader#bucky x y/n
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trapped - kim doyoung
pairing - yandere!doyoung x gender neutral!reader
summary - you should have known better..
genre - yandere!au
warnings - yandere themes, a lot of manipulation, doyoung is a sly mf, mentions of an abusive household, running away from home, mentions of stitches, mentions of blood, they bury a dead body, doyoung kills someone.
word count - 2.6k
prompts used - ‘everyone’s gone now! no one can get in our way now. why deny our love?’ + ‘hopeless? you think i’m hopeless? sweetheart. pigeon. dove. don’t you see that you’re the one caged here’ from this prompt list
a/n - i was in midst of completing this fic, couldn’t figure out the end when i came across this prompt list and honestly i couldn’t have completed it without it. shoutout to @go-shotaro for proofreading it <3
Doyoung's sobs rang softly in the house as the loud noises from the television covered it well. You attempted to catch your breath, courtesy of running too fast after he texted you, “emergency”.
Now normally people would counter question each other, “what emergency?” And “what should i do?” But it was something you had established with him after you came to know about how both of your households had been abusive. And it was never to be taken lightly, april fools or not. No one from the two of you was allowed to text it except if it was really bad.
So hence why you ran with all the speed you could muster after sneaking out from your window. Chances of you getting caught were not absolutely zero but you thought about how your best friend could be in danger.
At present, his door was already unlocked, but you don’t pay much attention to it, the sobs absolutely making you fear for the worst.
and some smell. some metallic smell. Before you could recognise it as something you’ve smelled when you got cut while you were chopping off onions, you’re greeted with a pool of blood in the kitchen.
Pool of blood with a body.
A body. His father’s body, precisely.
There's a hollow pit in your stomach which digs deeper as you take the seriousness of the situation in, sirens going off in your brain. But you move your eyes all over the kitchen to find the source of the cries, your best friend.
he’s crying softly as if he hasn’t fathomed what he’s done, numb even.
He’s shocked to see you even when it was him that texted you and immediately begins sobbing a little louder when you bend down to his level.
“What happened?” You ask in a hush as if his father is going to wake up if you make a sound.
Instead of replying he clings onto your frame in a hug, his crying getting uncontrollable by the minute.
“He....he..he was going to kill me, y/n.”
it doesn't take you much to be convinced of that, you’ve had past experiences when you bandaged up doyoung's wounds.
Even accompanied him to the hospital for a few stitches on his forehead.
It absolutely pains you that your best friend has to go through this. All this torture at an age where he should be partying out or just overall be carefree, he was burdened with the load of the house. His father off to gamble and his mother, well, she was dead so you can’t really blame her.
And a bulb goes off in your brain
So you get up and offer him a hand as well.
“Doyoung, get up, stop crying, quick, we’re getting out of here.”
“What?” He sniffles.
“You heard me. I’m not letting you go to jail.”
His tears stop finally as you scour his cabinets for gloves and a cloth to wipe the blood off the floor, and he brings a bucket of water as you attempt to wipe off the blood off the floor.
around half an hour later, the blood's no longer visible on the floor and doyoung's dad's body rests in a sitting position in front of the living room.
he sobs occasionally as you both work in silence to eliminate anything that connects doyoung to this.
you would have thought twice if it was someone else. but Doyoung's dad was one of those drug addicts, who if they found some good stuff, would sell their own spouses.
he's been torturing doyoung since you knew him, which was about five years ago.
The only people that would look for his dad were the ones he used to smoke with. that is, if they remember him at all.
and as for you, it had been a recurring thought to run away from your home. with all the beatings getting out of hand and your parents just over all blaming you for every problem.
maybe this was a sign that you just should.
maybe you and doyoung be a little happy, make a life for yourselves and not end up like everyone else in the town.
maybe you had a chance at this.
you help doyoung fit the body inside a suitcase. it takes about 20 minutes but it does, finally, close.
and you let out a visibly loud sigh, cutting off the silence that had taken over you both.
"Can you tell me what happened now?"
"he found out i was stealing from him, planning to run away,”
"Oh,”
he wraps his arms around you, resting his face on your shoulder, and you let yourself loose as well. Head on his shoulder as well.
Without any words, just standing there with the warmth radiating between you two saying something words just could never.
-
You get out of the house and doyoung is behind you, locking the door softly, the walls were thin here and someone could rush out to complain or just to pick a fight for the fun of it if they were drunk.
You stroll the suitcase as if you’re going on vacation to Hawaii, making sure to look at every direction. Left, right, behind, straight.....
He follows close behind you carrying a hoe he found outside in the garden shed, it was rusted; but it would work. And he leads you to his car.
His dad’s, actually.
No one would actually suspect doyoung and you unless they witnessed this happening. Because there were a lot of times Doyoung’s father would just disappear for days, leaving him to sneak into your room and sleep in hiding.
So it wasn’t quite suspicious.
You reach the boot of the car, your slippers creating a slapping sound on the road; it was a little wet from the showers in the afternoon and muddy.
The silence around is deafening and you turn around for the umpteenth time, scouring every window around to confirm there’s no one watching you.
Doyoung taps the car lightly to get your attention, preferring to maintain the quiet. And you don’t take twice to nod to him and get into the passenger seat.
As the engine revs up, the seriousness of the whole situation settles in your body. Should you just have turnt doyoung in? No, never, that was your best friend. He was the one who did feel like home; you could do this.
And maybe if you do get caught, you’ll be doing something you won’t be regretting. You’d be doing it for your best friend.
Doyoung’s eyes meet yours through the rear view mirror and he breaks the silence with a cough and a soft whisper,
“Are you sure about this?”
You nod. Words refuse to come to you.
“You won’t be able to turn back after this,”
“I’m sure, doyoung,”
He smiles painfully; like a friend forced to put their friend in danger due to circumstances. But you knew doyoung would do the same for you if it were you in his position.
After driving to the outskirts of the city, doyoung takes a turn around a cluster of trees, the beginning of a forest.
And you turn on your alert mode again, constantly turning back to ensure there was no one lurking around in his uninhabitable area; every slight noise of a vehicle passing by made you jump.
Doyoung was surprisingly calm, this time around he carried the suitcase. And you look at his hands which were blood stained just about an hour ago.
The darkness makes it hard to see but you follow him through bushes and stones, careful with each step of yours.
Trying not to make a sound plus trying to slip.
You swear you can almost hear your own heart pound inside your chest as you walk.
Doyoung stops nearly 15 minutes later; deep inside the forest, there’s a clearing of trees here and he stops you by grabbing your arm.
“I think this will be okay?” His tone is more of a questioning one, but you nod, it was deep inside the forest and no one would ever actually think about digging this up, would they?
Doyoung puts the suitcase aside gently and stretches out a hand in front of you, motioning for you to lend him the tool.
And you give it to him, but feel a sense of insecurity later, it felt like something you could hit someone with in case they found you, but you found yourself defenseless now.
He dug his first jab slowly. But upon realising that slow won’t do much, he did the second one with more impact.
And he hits it till the ground finally breaks, while you keep a lookout towards every direction;
Gradually, doyoung is exhausted and his hands pain from the torture of digging, so you volunteer to dig the rest of it.
Sweat trickles down the back of your neck to your t-shirt, but at least you’re done digging.
Doyoung stands up from his spot where he sat on a protruding tree root to examine if it's deep enough, and you both look at each other for the other’s approval.
And in a swishing motion, doyoung is dragging the bag to the suitcase to the edge of the hole. And his reluctantly trace the suitcase, you have to bury the body alone if you want it to decompose fast;
So you help him out by getting the body out of the suitcase.
It's deteriorating fast, and the smell makes you breathe through your nose, but you position him the way you want him to be buried and nod to doyoung.
-
an hour later, you’re at a diner sitting quietly and fiddling with your fingers.
trying to figure out what to order.
doyoung stares at you worried; mostly because when the waitress came to place menus at your tables, you let out a loud gasp.
“..and some sprite, yeah that’s it,”
the waitress smiles at you as she completes jotting down your order and disappears right down the hall.
“Hey, are you okay?” Doyoung’s features are concerned and you nod at him and throw him a small grin.
And he smiles warmly back at you.
he takes your hands in his and looks at you, “i’m not sure what i’d do without you,”
The sun’s up, and your mother’s surely banging at your door to wake up; but it doesn’t even matter much, because you’re free and that’s all that matters.
-
An hour later, you're back at the road, when you're hit with the realization that you still don't know where you're going.
"where should we go?"
to which doyoung replies, without taking his eyes off the road - "i have it all planned, don't worry,"
"how do you have it all planned?" you raise your brow, hoping he'd clarify what he meant.
"I mean. i just planned it all out, you don't need to worry,"
and he scoffs, "you're acting as if this was a plan."
"of course not," you cross your arms. and begin to ponder if anyone would be onto you both;
it would be counted as a coincidence at most because you were never seen together, mostly because of the orthodoxy of both of your families.
nevertheless, your family would try for a month at most, and give up later, not thinking of you to be worth it.
it's what they had done when you attempted to run away a few months ago, escaping to Doyoung's house.
and it had hit you there, that there was no one apart from doyoung who cared for you.
-
a few hours later, you had dozed off against your better judgement, while doyoung kept driving to said place cautiously.
and he pulled up inside a cozy parking lot, causing you to jerk awake and yawn loudly;
"where....are we?" taking in the informality of the place, you were sure this wasn't a hotel, it was something way too familiar. but what bugged you more was how despite being like an apartment complex, the parking was mostly empty.
doyoung threw you a smile in reply and extended his hand towards you, motioning you to take it, "come with me."
you reluctantly fit your hand inside his, after all he was your friend, he couldn't do you any harm, right?
and he leads you into a bit deeper inside the parking lot, the sound of your breath being prominent in this silence.
at last an elevator comes into view, it's small and cozy; maybe we're going to an airbnb? you glance around the lift warily as doyoung waits eagerly.
as a small bell rings and the elevator doors open, he takes your hand in his once again and looks back at you, "you're gonna love it,"
and you take in the floor number, "9", and follow him through around two doors, both of them absolutely new and maybe even unoccupied.
he finally reaches the end of the hallway where there is a similar door like the ones you passed through, the only difference being that doyoung fished out a key for this one.
and you don't remember stopping for anything after the diner..
Was this planned?
he was creeping you out more and more every passing minute.
and he opens it to reveal a fully furnished, small, and a cute apartment.
but well that would have been your first thoughts if you had been here under different circumstances.
"Do you like it?" doyoung asked, as if he was a little kid asking for an opinion on his drawing.
he shuts the door behind you as he takes your off guard-ness to pull you inside.
"doyoung, what is this?"
"what, you don't like it?" he pouts a little.
"Since when have you been planning this?" you ask, expecting an answer that you know is gonna make you completely repulse Doyoung.
"Remember I told you how my dad found out I was stealing money from him?" you can't move your eyes from the sofa in front of you, and doyoung moves around you like a merry go round
"why don't you look at the bright side, y/n?" he hovers behind you, his breath fanning your neck.
"and that is?" you ask in a small voice. you had no idea who this man was. because he clearly wasn't the one you had vowed to protect a few years earlier.
"we can finally be together," he whispers in your ear.
"Are you kidding me, doyoung? this can't happen."
and he snaps from his calm demeanour, "everyone's gone now! no one can get in our way now. Why deny our love?"
"doyoung, you're my best friend, i don't love you romantically, please stop with this it's creeping me out."
"that's not a thing to worry about, I'll make you love me."
"it's hopeless doyoung,"
his hands travel from your shoulders to your wrist.
"hopeless?" he scoffs, "you think i'm hopeless? sweetheart. pigeon. dove. don't you see that you're the one caged here."
and as he pulls away, he leaves you free.
but you can't move a limb because a part of you knows doyoung has a trick up his sleeve.
"this memory card," he flicks it in front of you, "belongs to the camera that was installed in my living room, moments before you came. and hence, i have proof that you were an accomplice."
you walked right into that. no one in their right mind would help cover a murder. they do say that they would, but no one would. and you, being the hopelessly foolish, helped him out.
"do you get it now, dove?"
#prism.nw#neoturtles#tw yandere#yandere kpop#yandere nct#yandere kpop x reader#yandere nct x reader#yandere!nct#yandere!au#yandere!kpop#yandere!doyoung#yandere doyoung#yandere nct 127#yandere nct 127 x reader#yandere au#kim doyoung#kim doyoung x reader#doyoung x y/n#doyoung x you#doyoung x reader#nct x reader#nct x gender neutral reader#nct 127#nct x you#nct 127 doyoung#nct doyoung#nct doyoung x reader#yandere x reader#yandere x y/n
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Too Sweet (For This World) Yandere!Ranboo x F!Reader x Yandere!Tubbo
Hello! I'm in love with the way you write c! Ranboo like hsgsj- amazing! So I would like a request Yandare c! Ranboo and tubbo with a soft reader that is oblivious on how they act twords them but loves them unconditionaly (just fluff please maybe maybe put a Micheal seen in there as well because Micheal is the best character 😌)
I think this is the best compliment I have ever received... Thank you so much🤍🖤
I didn't know whether or not to do headcanons or a full-length fic, so I went with a shorter story if that's alright. ^^ if it's not feel free to send another request!
FYI THIS CAN BE SEEN AS PLATONIC OR ROMANTIC
-
It was very common for you to see something out of the corner of your eye, but when you looked, you only saw a bunch of purple particles drifting slowly towards the earth due to gravity. You just assumed there were quite a few endermen still hanging around Snowchester, or some of the goats had come down from the mountains when you saw small little horns peeking out from behind bushes.
There were a couple times a day where you accidentally and very conveniently bumped into Ranboo out in the crater of L'Manberg or Tubbo when walking around Snowchester. It honestly was funny to you that you always seemed to bump into them when you were feeling sad or lonely. Plus, after talking to them and spending time with them, your problems almost magically seemed to disappear!
Such as, there was one time when you were helping clean up the red vines around buildings and Fundy was nagging at you for being so slow or bad at doing everything. After storming away and ranting to Ranboo about it on the verge of tears, Fundy practically scrambled up to you the next day shaking and almost crying, apologizing for every single thing he's ever said or done.
Huh... Maybe he felt that bad about it to the point where he was crying?
Although Fundy never said anything mean to you again, he also stopped hanging around you completely.
When you mentioned this to Tubbo, he explained that Fundy must not have been a real friend and that he and Ranboo would always be there for you before anyone else.
Once the mansion was built, the two platonic husbands eagerly invited you to stay with them, even saying they had Foolish make a room specifically for you! At first, you quite enjoyed your home around L'Manberg, but then one day you returned home to a wall of your home completely destroyed by vines, deeming it unlivable. Although a tad convenient..
Tubbo and Ranboo had heard about it through your sobs when you called them, saying you had no clue what to do anymore. They had arrived at your side in almost minutes and quickly helped you pack and move everything to the mansion.
"I thought Snowchester was like... Half a day's walk away from here..." You sniffed, rubbing your red and puffy eyes. The two men of greatly varying heights tensed up momentarily.
"We were in the area." They both blurted out at the same time before glancing at each other.
Tubbo cleared his throat first, "I was in the nether, but luckily for you, I was close to the old L'Manberg portal!" He smiled softly at you as you three walked away from your old home.
"M-Me too!" Ranboo coughed awkwardly, causing Tubbo to shoot him an odd look that you decided to brush off, "Now, uh, come on! Michael needs to meet his new mother!"
You blinked in surprise at the new title but didn't question it much, assuming it was simply just a title. Unbeknownst to you, your two best friends already thought you were part of their platonic relationship, despite you never agreeing nor denying, or them even asking.
It took a few days, but the zombie piglin warmed up to you and practically saw you as another one of his parents, which made Ranboo and Tubbo extremely happy. Instead of placing you into one of the regular rooms, they had Foolish turn the basement into two heavily secured rooms a few days before your house had been destroyed, strangely enough, and even designed one perfectly to your liking!
After washing the fruits you had, you walked towards the bookshelf and pulled on the fake book that caused the shelf to swing open. You walked down the quartz stairs after shutting the hidden door, then made your way up to one of the two doors with a pink sign with 'Michael' written in yellow cursive paint. Punching in the code, the iron door slid open and you stepped in before closing it behind you.
A loud cooing grunt was heard and the sound of quiet tapping echoed through the room before a pair of arms wrapped around your leg. "Hello, Michael." You giggled softly as Michael made grabbing hands up towards the bowl of fruit. Placing it down on the table, the child eagerly ran over and began munching on the food as you brushed over the books on the shelves to find one you haven't read to Michael before. "What about... The story of Persephone?"
A disappointed grunt was your only response.
"Guess I did read that one... Hm... Oh! What about the story of Icarus?" This time his response was a happy squeak and tippy taps of his hooves against the warm quartz floors. You sat down in the rocking chair and waited until the child scrambled over and jumped into your lap.
You opened the book and began reading to him for an hour until your eyes slowly slid shut to the quiet snores of the child of your two best friends, who at this point was beginning to see you as a mother.
Quiet 'meh' sounds and 'vrrr'ing noises and a dim flash woke you up from your spot in the rocking chair. Cracking open your eyes, your arms shifted around the nether hybrid as you saw Tubbo holding a camera making happy bleating noises, while Ranboo, who was the source of the buzzing noises, took the book you had been reading from your limp hand to put it back on the shelf.
"What time is it?" You murmured softly to keep the child asleep as you rubbed the back of your stiff and sore neck.
"It's about 5:30pm. Still rather early. Tubbo walked over and gave you a gentle yet affectionate headbutt while he scooped Michael up from your lap to bring him to bed. This caused an odd whining noise to come from the enderman hybrid before he quickly walked over and rested his forehead against yours, resting it there for a few moments before pulling back, his cheeks flushed the same colours as his eyes.
You giggled softly and gave him a gentle pat on the head as he helped you up. He held onto one of your hands as Tubbo eagerly went for the other, jokingly sticking his tongue out at Ranboo who gave a noise of mock offence, causing you three to giggle softly as you left Michael's room and went upstairs.
Tubbo and Ranboo weren't big fans of you leaving the basement on your own, and you were rarely allowed to leave the mansion even with the two boys at your sides. The former president told you it was because he heard rumours of Technoblade searching around for all the members of his cabinet back when he was in charge of L'Manberg, and he just wanted to protect you.
You saw no problems with his story as it was extremely believable. Your history with Technoblade hadn't been the cleanest and he would've definitely taken one of your canon lives back during the attack on L'Manberg, had a stray black and white firework not saved you that day. It had fired off and must've swerved a way that wasn't predicted, because it hit Technoblade hard enough in the chest to knock him away from you.
You don't remember much of that day, except for Ranboo immediately running over to you and dragging you away from the destruction and chaos. Thanks to him, you were almost completely scar-free and standing proudly at three canons lives.
A gentle hand on your shoulder brought you back to reality and you saw two sets of eyes staring at you with concern. "Hey... Are you feeling okay?" Ranboo asked softly, tilting your head up to place his free hand against your forehead, "See. I told you she should be getting more sunlight, Tubbo!"
"I'm okay, I'm okay!" You laughed softly at their worry, rubbing your thumbs along the back of their hands, "Just... Remembering the war with Dream and Techno..."
"What about it?" Tubbo asked, bringing you into the living room to sit down with your friends on either side of you.
You pursed your lips together for a moment as you looked at the ground, "Just how... Scary Techno is. And how he was about to kill me without a care about who or what I was."
Angered growling and seething noises came from Ranboo and Tubbo as you felt their grasps tighten around your hands, almost to a painful degree. You looked up and saw their expressions stone-cold and steely although vastly different from each other.
Ranboo's green eye was purple, and the black tone of his skin was beginning to seep into the side with the lack of colour. The corners of his mouth were slowly splitting open wider and wider as his lips parted, allowing you to see the glowing purple colour inside his mouth.
Tubbo's was less obvious. His eyes were blank but also had a bright fire, one burning for revenge, reflected in them. His ears weren't flicking and neither was his tail, his entire body stiff except for a faint sound giving away the fact that his teeth were grinding together.
As much as you tried to endure it, the grip became too harsh and you couldn't help but give a small pained gasp. This caused all physical contact with you to suddenly vanish as the two boys immediately flung themselves away from you, horror and fear in their eyes.
"Oh my god! I'm so sorry!"
"Are you okay?! Do you need an ice pack?!"
"Or a bandage from my claws?!"
They were both kneeling on the ground in front of you with both of your hands in their grasps again. They repeatedly turned your hands in their own, testing the joints and checking for marks or bruising. "Boys, boys!" You laughed softly, placing your hands on their heads to ruffle their hair gently. You pulled your left hand adorned with two beautiful rings and held it up for them to see, flexing it and moving it around, "See? Perfectly fine. No pain whatsoever!"
While they seemed to have calmed down a lot, they still seemed to be extremely upset and guilty. "I'm still going to get an ice pack... We don't want our wife to be injured..." Tubbo murmured as he quickly got up and walked towards the kitchen.
"I will get started on dinner. And as an apology, I'm making your favourite. (F/f)." Ranboo tried to be a little more upbeat than Tubbo, but you could still see the small amounts of guilt as he turned and followed after the goat hybrid.
Sighing softly at their over reactions, you leaned back against the couch...
Before doing a double-take.
Adorned with rings?!
You quickly flung yourself forward again and looked at your left hand. On your ring finger were two diamond rings, one gold with a green gemstone, and the other silver with a black gemstone, both glistening a faint purple from enchantments...
...
When did these get put on you- wait... Did Tubbo say... wife?
#tubbo x reader#yandere tubbo x reader#ranboo x reader#yandere ranboo x reader#mcyt x reader#yandere mcyt x reader#mcyt#ranboolive#ranboo#tubbo#dream smp#dsmp#ranboo dsmp#ranboo dreamsmp#tubbo dsmp#tubbo dreamsmp#tubbo mcyt#ranboo mcyt
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SANGCHENG FIC RECS
flight of a one-winged dove by bloodletter
Talking at someone is only fun for so long. That's all being a sect leader is: talking and talking to people bound by courtesy to listen to you. It's so fucking dull. A relief, then, to face one’s equal, and no less an old friend who is inclined to interrupt you whenever you ramble. He likes it. It’s one of Jiang Cheng’s best qualities.
In the years after Guanyin Temple, Nie Huaisang attends to unfinished business.
whipped by reindeercolin
Jiang Cheng blinks. “Dammit, they do think you’re dating one of us! I hate it when Wei Wuxian is right.”
“Excuse me?” Nie Huaisang gives him an incredulous look. “First of all, they think I’m dating you, and if anything, they’re getting more aggressive!”
(or, the one in which Jiang Cheng has too many relatives, not enough patience, goes through a brother-divorce and finds out he has a boyfriend - in that order, more or less.)
Ponder the Manner of Things by Pip (Moirail)
It's not that Jiang Cheng can't do a quadruple flip followed by a triple toeloop. It's that his mother seems to think that's still not good enough.
Jiang Cheng is grateful that Huaisang doesn’t have the same kind of family life that he does, all - messy with expectations and cravings for closeness and nothing but vague filial piety where love is meant to be.
a matter of time and organ donation by nev_longbottom
This is it. The call he’s been waiting for. His brother had ‘an accident’ or ‘died in his sleep’ or some other lie to cover up the murder.
“Please, Mingjue is missing. He got into one of his moods and he was gone when I came back from grocery shopping. He’s not answering his phone. I don’t know if he left or was kidnapped or if something else happened. Huaisang, please, if you’ve heard anything,” Meng Yao begs.
Nie Huaisang hunts his brother's killer.
no tip necessary by tattletold
With all the nervousness of a virgin in a whorehouse, Jiang Cheng closes the door behind himself and enters, sitting on the low seat across from the escort. The pretty young man keeps his face hidden behind the delicate fan, and Jiang Cheng thinks for a moment that he recognizes the design painted onto it now that he’s closer.
It’s only when he lowers the fan and opens his eyes, wide, does Jiang Cheng paralyze with realization.
They speak at the same time in equally horrified tones.
“Jiang Cheng?”
“Nie Huaisang?”
Your Place in the Family of Things by raisedbyhyenas
No matter what happens, no matter the circumstances, Wei Wuxian will always leave and Jiang Cheng will always get stuck trying to rebuild from whatever’s left.
*************
In which Jiang Cheng makes friends; gets a cat; begins to rebuild a relationship; and maybe, possibly, potentially, learns a little bit how to be happy.
sigh yourself to sleep by merthurlin
“Let me take care of you, A-Cheng.”
No one—no one has ever said that, not to Jiang Cheng. He wasn’t a very sickly child, true, but the few times he remembered being sick it was never—he had a-jie, and later on he had Wei Wuxian, for what it was worth, but he never—
halcyon days by serein
They're in a forest, it seems just the two of them.
"You have to be patient," Nie Huaisang says, "I once waited for three days to catch a sparrow."
"Three days?" Jiang Cheng replies, sceptical. He can't imagine Nie Huaisang having the attention span for that.
"It's not that hard," Nie Huaisang says, "if you know what they want, and find a way to get it for them."
[JC stumbles across an array and gets physically de-aged to be 16/17. NHS kindly offers his help to an old friend, but things... escalate.]
To Distraction by isozyme
It’s the third night of Yunmeng’s kite festival celebrations. Nie Huaisang has come visiting, eager to partake in the food, the arts, and Jiang Cheng.
-
Jiang Cheng wants to forget. Nie Huaisang has some new lube and wants to see if he can put his whole fist in somebody’s ass.
Lights, Camera, Kiss by MissMagus
When Nie Huaisang gets paired with straight porn star Jiang Cheng for a five-part series, he’s sure it will be an utter disaster. Until the cameras start rolling and their chemistry alights like wildfire.
(Or, the five times Nie Huaisang and Jiang Cheng have sex for their job, and the first time they have sex outside of it.)
Only the Shallow by hamburglar
When Nie Huaisang gets bored and convinces Jiang Cheng to make out with him, he’s probably not expecting to still be dealing with the guy 16 years later.
OR the story where Jiang Cheng goes into: the Cloud Recesses, denial, some bushes, the private porn library at the Unclean Realm, and subspace.
Blind for Love by manamune
Jiang Cheng is poisoned with an aphrodisiac and needs to orgasm repeatedly in order to flush it from his system.
The first person he thinks of going to for help is Nie Huaisang, who does what any good friend would do: he shoves his three decades worth of feelings for Jiang Cheng deep into the recesses of his mind, locks them up so he can pretend they don’t exist, and then fucks him so hard that he passes out.
Descending by lightningwaltz
“I want to… to not be embarrassed.”
“To not be embarrassed during what?”
“During sex.” There. Jiang Cheng can say it. “In general. Also with you right now.”
“Very good.”
“When did you become so authoritative?” Jiang Cheng wants to sound irked, but can’t quite manage anything beyond nervous curiosity.
dark water by Morgan (duckwhatduck)
There are words, somewhere, for this. Words that would put a shape to the thing that sits between them, would seal their understanding. There are words for sympathy, for friendship, for understanding, for that touch, for this feeling.
Jiang Cheng can feel them, somewhere, fluttering formless at the back of his throat, squirming under his ribcage, but he cannot grasp them. They swim beneath the surface, fish in muddy water - and like fish, they will dart away if he grabs for them incautiously, and leave him nothing but cold splashes and grit.
Or: Why talk about things when you could fuck about it instead?
never knew i was a dancer by isozyme
“What’s a stone butch and why aren’t they real?” Jiang Cheng asks, too buzzed to care too much about not being up on lesbian culture.
Huaisang pats Jiang Cheng on the no-man’s-land between her boobs and her shoulder. “You’re so useless, Jiang Cheng. A stone butch is a fictional hottie who doesn’t make you do any work at all, just wants to give head and fuck you stupid on her strap.”
“Fictional?” Jiang Cheng echoes, having - not a moment, per se, but sort of a problem where her thoughts are going too fast for her poor drunken brain to keep up with.
“Nobody actually wants to fuck a chick who’s too lazy to eat you out after,” Huaisang mumbles.
-
After leaving Wei Ying and Lan Zhan’s bachelorette party, Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang decide to experiment with some outdated stereotypical lesbian sex roles.
lights out by rynleaf
“Nie-zongzhu makes the most sense,” Sect Leader Yao nods sagely, to murmurs of assent across the Jin Sect’s gold gilded banquet hall. Jin Ling, clad in opulent robes that look somewhat comical on a boy of sixteen, inclines his head as his scribe makes a notation, and the noise rises as sect leaders pat themselves and each other on the back for a decision well made.
Jiang Cheng groans and downs his cup of wine in one go.
-
In which the Sect Leaders elect a new Chief Cultivator.
shadow eternal by rynleaf
“You want me to distract the Chief Cultivator from the Annual Cultivation Conference, so you and other sect leaders can… what. Sign contracts without adult supervision?”
“If Jiang-zongzhu is amenable,” Sect Leader Ouyang repeats with a nod.
Jiang Cheng pinches the bridge of his nose. The pressure he felt building behind his eyes all morning is swiftly coalescing into a bitch of a headache. “Just what do you all think I’m capable of?”
Sect Leader Ouyang bows with a cheerful smile. “We have utmost faith in Sandu Shengshou’s abilities.”
-
In which a night hunt ends in disaster, Jiang Cheng catches a glimpse of Nie Huaisang's heart, and feelings are discussed after a certain fashion.
Four Days in Lanling by halotolerant
Nie Huaisang looks at him. ‘You are confusing me, Clan Leader Jiang, perhaps I misunderstand, but…’
‘You didn’t misunderstand. You don’t misunderstand. You understand all of it.’ For six months Jiang Cheng has been mulling this over, and now with Nie Huaisang in front of him he can’t figure out if he most wants to knock him down or kneel at his feet. What he does is try and breathe. Clench his hands at his sides. ‘And now I am going to ask you to do something for me. You have to do something for me. You have to help Jin Ling.’
Lean for Love Forever by Pip (Moirail)
Having a crush on your roommate is really embarrassing, except that's apparently the opposite of a problem. Jiang Cheng can't deny that's pretty convenient.
Wei Ying holds it up, a series of straps and buckles and velcro and wow, really a lot of leather. It has absolutely no conceivable form beyond tangled.
Nie Huaisang opens the door at exactly the moment that Wei Ying holds the thing up to Jiang Cheng’s chest, as if he’s trying to imagine how exactly it would fit onto a person, and it falls into a tangled pile between them while they stare at Huaisang in mild mortification.
acquired momentum by mongrelmind
Had Madam Yu known that this is where her son would end up, she would have gouged his eyes out with her bracelet before he made the grave mistake of looking in the direction of Nie Huaisang.
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in which Nie Huaisang has an art show, Jiang Cheng is begrudgingly topless*, and there are. Shenanigans.
*Nie Huaisang excluded.
#sangcheng#mdzs#mdzs recs#fic recs#jiang cheng#nie huaisang#ill probably add more fics when I read more fics
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There’ll Be Peace When You Are Done AKA the REAL finale (Destiel + Sam/Eileen)
[read on ao3]
The shot focuses on DEAN, asleep in his bed. It’s angled so you can’t see the other half of his bed. Dean is lying on his side, and looks like he’s having a nightmare. His eyes fly open, and he calms himself for a moment before rolling over to look across the bed. The shot follows him to see CAS, under the covers beside him and obviously unclothed. There’s a glow, like sunrise, through the shot, making it look soft and peaceful, though that makes no sense since his room in the bunker has no windows, and an unobtrusive but calming background music.
CAS: [tilting his head, looking into Dean’s eyes] Dean? What’s wrong?
DEAN: Nightmare. I thought… [he pauses, evidently confused] I thought I’d lost something important…
CAS: What did you lose?
DEAN: I don’t know.... [he leans forward, buries his head in CAS’ shoulder. He still seems rattled]
CAS: [running a hand over Dean’s hair] Whatever it is, I’m sure you’ll find it.
DEAN: I hope so. [chuckles] How do you always make me believe in miracles, Cas?
CAS: [confused] Well, I am an angel.
DEAN rolls his eyes and is about to say something snarky with a grin on his face when—
Shot cuts to a farther one. From above, showing Dean alone sleeping on the side of his bed, waking up. No music. No light. Just the sounds of his gasping breath and the light from the clock on his bedside table. He sits up, turns on the lamp, eyes still wild and you can see that he’s a complete wreck. His eyes are bloodshot, he looks like he hasn’t slept well since Cas died, which he hasn’t. The look on his face is one of profound and inconsolable bafflement and loss.
CUT TO SAM waking up. You see him walking out of the shower and getting ready, and to all intents and purposes, he looks like he’s doing fine. Not great, maybe, but definitely at least okay. SAM walks into the kitchen where DEAN is eating breakfast and already on his second beer. SAM looks, obviously notices, but doesn’t say anything. He sits at the table to join him.
CUT TO SAM doing laundry and reading, DEAN working on BABY, checking the motor, cleaning all the windows… as SAM is shown making phone calls, looking through books, eating lunch, DEAN is still working on BABY. He looks driven, almost frenzied, as though if he stops he’s going to fall apart where he stands. SAM stops by a door in the hallway and looks in, it’s obviously JACK’S room. It’s empty and dark. SAM doesn’t turn on the light but leaves the door open and stands there for a moment. He’s got a hollow expression, not entirely sad but not happy either.
CUT TO the library. SAM is on the computer when DEAN walks in, a duffle bag over his shoulder.
DEAN: Hey.
SAM: Hey. ...You doing all right?
DEAN: I can’t stay here anymore. I need some fresh air for a few days. You’ll be okay?
SAM: [with a surprised huff of a laugh] Of course I will.
DEAN: Good. [awkward silence] Good. Well then… [clears throat] See you.
He walks up the stairs toward the top of the bunker. Shot changes to SAM’S reaction. He looks worried and sad. You hear the clang of the door shut. SAM lets out a sigh and bows his head, closing his eyes. He speaks in a quiet tone…
SAM: Jack? I know you can hear me, and I know… you didn’t want people to pray to you, but… Dean’s not doing well, and I don’t know how to help… [shuddering sigh] actually, I’m not doing so well either. So, I mean, if you could…
SAM opens eyes. Looks around. JACK is still, obviously, not there. SAM leans back in his chair, looking gutted, but just then his phone, lying on the table beside him, vibrates. He picks it up.
EILEEN: [text] Sam, how are you?
SAM: [slight smile, texts back] Not great, honestly.
EILEEN: [facetime request]
SAM: [accepts request]
EILEEN: [speaking and signing] I found a hunt, just a simple salt and burn. If you want to join me?
SAM: [speaking and signing] I’ll be there.
NIGHT. Exterior, the Impala is parked on the side of a long, empty stretch of highway with trees around it. There’s a dirt path like a long driveway, which is where it’s parked at the front of, but you can’t see where the path leads, except into the woods.
CUT TO DEAN lying in the front seat, asleep, still from above. Then from the side, shot facing toward the back of the car. There’s a noise from the back seat, like someone shifting. DEAN’S eyes open, and he’s on the alert. He slowly inches up, hand reaching for a knife in its holster. The shot follows him until the camera, and DEAN, are peering into the backseat, where CAS is lying down, possibly asleep. As soon as it is clear that DEAN sees him, CAS opens his eyes, as though he’s sensed DEAN’S presence. He sits up.
CAS: Dean.
DEAN: [exhales] I’m dreaming, aren’t I.
CAS: [looks puzzled]
DEAN: [puts down knife, and reaches across the seat back. CAS leans forward till his hand is resting on the seat back and DEAN’S hand is resting on top of it. There’s a long silence.]
CAS: [gesturing to the car and the road] Where are you going?
DEAN: [sounding sad/lost/bitter] I don’t freaking know.
CAS: I’m sure you’ll realize when you get there.
DEAN: [brokenly] How the hell am I supposed to get there?
DEAN leans his head down until it’s resting on his elbows. When the shot cuts back to where CAS was, the seat is empty. DEAN opens his eyes blearily and stumbles outside, with his phone. He turns it on and you can see it says 12:00. He opens up SAM’S number and stares at it for a long time before not calling. He puts the phone down, and the shot follows it, becoming a close-up on the phone screen and the time.
CUT to DEAN again, he’s leaning against the back of the Impala, drinking beer.
CUT to closeup of phone. 1:00.
CUT to DEAN again. Still drinking, but there are empty bottles by his feet.
CUT to closeup of phone. 2:00.
CUT to DEAN, he walks off a few paces and offscreen vomits into the bushes.
CUT to closeup of phone. 3:00.
In a motel room, that’s lit only through the exterior lights outside the uncurtained window, SAM wakes up, looking uneasy. As he sits up, he disturbs the other person lying beside him, who you see, as she sits up, is EILEEN.
EILEEN: Sam? What’s wrong?
SAM: [gets out of bed, unplugs his phone from the wall, and calls DEAN. The phone rings. And rings. SAM looks back at EILEEN, he looks scared.
SAM: [putting down phone so he can sign and speak] It’s Dean. I think something’s wrong.
EILEEN considers this for a moment. You can see her considering that this is the middle of the night, and SAM is probably overreacting, but then you can see her deciding to take this seriously.
EILEEN: [getting up, speaking and signing] You can track his phone, right? [she is just wearing an undershirt and shorts right now, but after she speaks she starts changing, pulling a shirt over her head]
SAM: [distracted, picking up the phone and speaking basically to himself] Yeah, I’m on it.
EILEEN starts packing everything and SAM jumps to his feet. They leave the motel room, [the shot continues from inside the room, showing them closing the door behind them.]
DEAN has finished putting branches over the Impala to hide it and is starting to walk down the trail. As he leaves, shot cuts to DEAN’S PHONE, sitting on the front seat, with his knife beside it.
DEAN walks through the woods, which are dark, crashing into things, scratching his arm on some brambles.
DEAN: son of a bitch!
Then DEAN stumbles out of the woods and sees a small field, with a barn in it. He walks toward it, interested and wary, and creaks open the door.
The moonlight is bright, but DEAN flicks his lighter open, and in the patches of brighter light, casting shadows on the walls, you can see numerous sigils spray painted on the walls. It looks like the barn where he first met Cas all those years ago.
DEAN walks further inside and trips over some farming tools. His lighter falls out of his hand and, fortunately, closes. Now it’s just moonlight again. DEAN pulls himself to a sitting position on a bale of hay.
DEAN: All right, Cas. I’m here. What now? [pauses. No answer. DEAN laughs self-depreciatingly, and then puts his head in his hands] Cas, man, I’m trying. I’m trying to be… to be the person you saw in me. [his voice gets choked up] to keep living for you… but I can’t. I need you. [silence. Long, resounding, and empty.]
DEAN takes a shuddering breath, leans his head up from his hands and you see that he’s been crying.
DEAN: Fine. You want the truth? I don’t need you. I’ll survive… hell, I’ve done it before. But I don’t freaking want to. [a pause. DEAN looks almost surprised at his own words. Then, as though admitting something that is hard to say, even to an empty barn:] I want you here, Cas.
All of a sudden, something in the barn is moving. A space of blackness that is darker than the night shadows, and more gooey. It gets bigger and forms itself into a DOORWAY into the Empty. Dean stands up, steps toward it, and stops at the threshold. He reaches his hand through the doorway, and pulls it back. His hand is fine. Then he looks around in his pockets, and there’s a quick cut to DEAN’S PHONE sitting on the front seat of the Impala, with his knife next to it.
DEAN: ...Shit. [DEAN looks at the doorway to the Empty as though considering doing something very, very stupid. Then he steps through]
CUT TO SAM and EILEEN at the IMPALA, they’ve found the phone and start to run along the path through the trees, EILEEN has her gun out, SAM has a flashlight.
In the empty. It’s dark. At first DEAN wanders through darkness and silence, and then he hears cries of pain. As he comes closer, he sees CAS curled up on the “ground” with Meg!Empty torturing him.
DEAN: [rushing forward] You get your hands off him, you bitch!
THE EMPTY: Dean Winchester? [surprised, but recovering quickly] Who are you to give me orders.
DEAN: [with a cocky attitude, glancing at CAS, and obviously speaking to him, and not THE EMPTY] I���m the one who’s going to grip you tight and save you from perdition.
CAS stands up, looking tired, and worried. He glances between DEAN and THE EMPTY.
THE EMPTY: [laughs] You can’t save him. Cas and I made a deal. Fair and square. His happiness brought him here and I’m never letting him go again.
DEAN: Oh yeah? And that’s how you get your kicks, is that it? Torturing people? You can’t stand how alone you are and you take it out on everyone else. Man I get that but you, you’re on a whole other level. Not caring about anyone else, you’re just… just... just empty !
THE EMPTY: I want to sleep! I’m tired!
DEAN: [looking at the EMPTY for a moment, realizing] No one’s ever given a shit about you, have they.
THE EMPTY looks furious.
DEAN: God screwed you over. Billie—Well, Billie said she’d help you fall asleep, but let’s face it, she didn’t even have a clue how to begin.
THE EMPTY: [hysterically] So I’ll stay awake forever, then! And so will everyone else!
DEAN: It doesn’t have to be that way.
THE EMPTY: You can’t save me. You’re just a hunter who got lucky… God’s little pet…
DEAN: You’re right. I’m nobody special. [steps forward, looks her in the eyes] But I’m willing to try.
CUT TO SAM and EILEEN. They are now in the barn. SAM sees the portal to the EMPTY, which is closing, and notices DEAN’s lighter on the ground and puts two and two together.
SAM: [into the empty] Dean! [turns back to look at EILEEN.] The portal’s closing—Dean’s on the other side. He’s not going to make it back.
EILEEN: [speaking only, still holding her gun] Can you keep it open?
SAM: You’d have to be a powerful witch to pull off a spell like that. I mean, I have some idea… Maybe, for a few minutes… [he’s started considering] But I can’t do it, without focal points, ingredients… there won’t be enough power…
EILEEN: [puts down her gun and holds out her hand] I trust you. We’ll make it. Together. [SAM stares at her, surprised, and grateful, and overwhelmed. He takes her hand and faces the portal. The shot shows the two of them from the back, the portal before them: Sam standing centered, EILEEN to his left. Then he turns his head as though noticing someone. Close up shot of ROWENA, in the pink dress. She smiles at him, and close up shot, puts her hand in his other hand. Back to wide shot, it’s just SAM and EILEEN again, but you get the idea that ROWENA is there in spirit. SAM starts to speak a spell.
CUT back to the Empty. THE EMPTY is lying on the “ground” looking uncomfortable. Cas is kneeling on one side of her, DEAN on the other.
THE EMPTY: How is this supposed to work?
DEAN: Uh… [embarrassed laugh; looks desperately at CAS, hisses] what should I do?
CAS: [exasperated] This was your idea!
DEAN: [annoyed] Sorry, I haven’t exactly been tucked in since I was four!
THE EMPTY starts to get up.
DEAN: Wait, wait! [everyone looks at him. Dean, rambling, continues] Uh, you know, my mother… she used to, uh… [laughs nervously] she used to say angels were watching over me. [Glances at Cas shyly, then away. Clears his throat.] And sometimes, she… she’d sing me a lullaby.
[sings, thready and uncertain] Carry on my wayward son… [looks from Cas to the Empty and his voice gets firmer, more confident. He continues, acapella] There’ll be peace when you are done… lay your weary head to rest, don’t you cry no more. [by now his voice is strong and steady, and he’s gotten into the swing of it]
CUT TO SAM and EILEEN on the other side of the portal. You can see that SAM is still speaking, there’s the sound of thunder, and hear the words of the spell, overlaid with DEAN’S voice, still singing:
Once I Rose above the noise and confusion, just to get a glimpse beyond this illusion, I was soaring ever higher, but I flew too high… [as the shot focuses on SAM’s face, speaking the spell, looking powerful and confident]
CUT back to the empty, DEAN is singing and looking at CAS:
Though my eyes could see, I still was a blind man, though my mind could think I still was a mad man, I hear the voices when I’m dreaming, I can hear them say [DEAN is now stroking THE EMPTY’S hair, THE EMPTY looks relaxed, quiet, and her eyes are fluttering shut]...
The SONG starts up in actuality for the chorus,
Carry on my wayward son, there’ll be peace when you are done, lay your weary head to rest, don’t you cry no more.
As the chorus plays, DEAN and CAS stand up, and walk away from the now sleeping EMPTY. They hold hands and step forward—
And tumble out into the barn, where there’s a final crash of thunder and the song cuts out, and the portal closes.
SAM: Dean? [runs forward, hugs him] Cas! [All four of them embrace, then SAM and EILEEN step back. SAM is crying but looks happy.
DEAN: [turning to CAS] I told you something, before I went into the Empty. Did you hear it?
CAS: No.
DEAN: I don’t need you.
CAS looks shocked, betrayed, but then resigned, tries to look like it doesn’t bother him
DEAN continues: but I want you. I want you here, Cas. With me. Please tell me you’ll stay. [He steps forward, uncertain, and CAS, with a blinding smile, says]
CAS: Of course I will. As long as you want me to. [he takes DEAN’S hand carefully and DEAN pulls him into a hug again, and then, looking into his eyes, puts both hands to the side of Cas’s head as he speaks]
DEAN: I want you to stay until I die. No matter what damn curses we have to deal with. What monsters. Or how bad it gets. Or… even if things are fine. Even when there’s nothing to do, even when we don’t need you… I want you to stay through all the boring, everyday crap…
CAS: [laughing and crying] Dean, yes. Yes, of course.
SAM: I now pronounce you man and angel.
DEAN: [looking over, half laughing and still overjoyed] shut up.
SAM: I don’t know dude, you kind of married him. [SAM looks at EILEEN, who has been watching, and repeats himself in sign language. EILEEN laughs.]
DEAN: [defensively blustering] No I didn’t.
ELEEN: [speaking and signing] Yeah. You kind of did.
DEAN: [at a loss for words, looks at CAS, who shrugs] Fine. Then… [obviously making his mind up on a whim, he leans close to CAS’s face and whispers] If you don’t want me to do this, just say no and I’ll forget all about it.
CAS: I told you yes and I’ll tell you until the day you—
DEAN: [kisses Cas, slow and sweet, and Cas reaches up to hold him. Then Dean breaks the kiss. He’s breathing heavily, mostly out of nerves, and can’t meet anyone’s eyes, but he says,]
DEAN: There. Now it’s official.
CUT TO exterior. Everyone is sitting on the hood of the Impala. SAM is opening a beer and offers one to DEAN, who shakes his head
DEAN: Nah, I think I already had enough of those tonight. [He is sitting in Cas’s lap and looks perfectly happy, and Cas is holding him like he’s never going to let go. Eileen is sitting next to SAM and she and SAM clink their beer bottles together.
Turns into a small montage [no sound] of them all talking and laughing. First from afar, then close up shots. But as it shows the close up shots, you see Jack sitting with them. It seems that they almost “feel” him. Farther out shot again, Jack is still there. At the same time, the song starts playing again:
Masquerading as a man with a reason
My charade is the event of the season
And if I claim to be a wise man, well It surely means that I don't know
On a stormy sea of moving emotion
Tossed about, I'm like a ship on the ocean
I set a course for winds of fortune
But I hear the voices say… [song ducks but continues playing, skipping the chorus and playing THIS under the next bit instead:
Carry on, you will always remember
Carry on, nothing equals the splendor
Now your life's no longer empty
Surely heaven waits for you
JACK: [quietly, smiling] I love you. All of you.
SAM: [turning his head, as though noticing something] Did any of you feel something? A presence?
DEAN: Oh, come on. I don’t need any more ghost crap tonight.
SAM: no, not a spirit, just… a presence. It felt familiar. It felt like…
CAS: [quietly, knowingly, meeting Sam’s eyes] like family.
Song is at… “surely heaven waits for you” which is audible, and then:
FADE TO BLACK
Then, the very last chorus and the song ends, over black.
[on ao3]
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Chemical Warfare Weight Gain
As I began waking up, the only thought running through my mind was the beeping of the EKG, my arm was attached to. I laid there for a few minutes, my thoughts slowly returned to me.
I began remembering my name, my past but, I had no idea how I ended up there. (I was a soldier in my countries army), I told myself. Although I felt no pain, I feared the worst. (Did I get injured in an enemy attack), I continued thinking to myself.
With a deep breath and my growing strength, I opened my eye and, looked up at the world, around me. I was in a dimly lit hospital room, a curtain prevent me from viewing more than my immediate surroundings. I turn my attention to my body still covered by a thin blanket.
By this time I had no trouble sitting myself up. And, as I did I threw the blanket off me, revealing my hairy yet muscular body, which only wore a pair of boxer briefs. I was thrown a bit off guard but, started to rub the different parts of my body, letting the hair slide through my fingers. (Damn I must have been out for awhile), I thought while feeling the field of hair that covered most of my body. I knew my body had the potential to get really hairy, but I usually shaved on a daily basis to prevent it. Now all that constant work wasted.
My attention turned to my underwear. I looked around and waited to see if I could hear anything. And, when I thought I was safe. I took off my underwear. Again I was relieved. My 8 inch dick was still there surrounded my meaty sized balls. However, I would admit they looked smaller, as the hair on my legs and torso met at my pelvic region to create a massive bush of hair.
Looking around the room I noticed a mirror, which allowed me to see my back and ass, which were also covered in a layer of fur. (Damn, I going have to fix this), I thought to myself.
As I sat there becoming acquainted with my hairy body, something odd popped in my head. (This hair on my body had to take at least a month to grow out. So, I was on this bed for awhile. But, there wasn't an IV placed on me. No, feeding tube. I don't remember waking up to feed myself. How did I survive without food and water.), I started to question the situation I found myself in. But, the strangest part was that I didn't feel hungry.
With questions running through my head, I put my underwear back on and went to look for a doctor or nurse. Leaving my covered area, I finally noticed I wasn't alone. On the other side of the room, partially covered by a divider. I saw a man, also, on a ER bed. Unlike me he was very fat. His belly was exposed as his blanket was on the floor.
As, I got closer to him, I noticed he was completely naked. Ripped pieces of underwear were buried under his fat ass. He was also hairy, but not as hairy as me. His big beefy legs and puffed out fat pad made his dick look small. But, It wasn't like he could have seen it over the mountain that was his stomach. His chest looked somewhat muscular, but now an equal layer of fat made his pecs look more like boobs. Seeing his face, something seemed familiar but, I couldn't make it out. Even through the double chin and fat checks, I felt like I've seen this face, before. (But this guy must be close to 300lbs, I would remember someone this big), I thought to myself.
Feeling embarrassed for him, that his fat naked body was on full display. I picked up the blanket and covered him. His fat stomach even more pronounced with the thin fabric clinging to it. Unable to resist the urge, I patted his stomach, "there ya go big guy." I was shocked as he began to move. His eyes struggling to open. He softly moaned, trying to tell me something. But with the breathing tube in his mouth and the fact he was half conscious, he wasn't understandable. I looked around and also noticed no IV, was placed in him. "Don't worry buddy, I'll go get us some help and answers." I left as his eyes began to close again.
I continued walking and every room I past had the same sight. Big fat men, of different sizes, laying on hospital beds. Not one of them hooked up to machines, other than heart monitors and some had breathing tubes . I reached the elevator and pushed the button. Nothing happened. I started to panic and moved quickly to the stairwell. The doors that lead out were locked. I started yelling for someone ... anyone, as I continued walking the empty halls.
I found my way into a big room, with the biggest guy on the floor here. He must have been 600 pounds. There was no way this man was able to move as his body was nothing more than a giant bean bag of fat. No curves ... just a blob of fat. His file sat on a nearby desk.
"Officer Ryan Lakewood" the file read. I paused for awhile, but suddenly a wave of recognition rushed my brain. I knew that name. Lakewood was one of the more well known guys in the troop. He was massive with muscle; easily the strongest guy. I remained in shock as I walked towards the fat man's face, "It couldn't be" I told myself. But, as I looked at the man's face ... It was him. Underneath all the fat that filled his once chiseled face, I could see him; the man he used to be.
How did that happen. He did eat a lot, but all of that went to fueling his massive muscles. Before, I could think anymore the heart monitor he was attached to flatlined. Panicked, I started to do chest compressions. But, it wasn't long before doctors and nurses, covered up in protective gear, rushed in. They grabbed me and in my panicked state, I started to fight back. But, I was no match as I felt a syringe being stabbed into my skin. As the drowsiness set in, I heard the doctors say "He's gone, the last one over 400lbs ... at least the others still seem to be in stable condition."
I woke up tied to a chair in an empty room. I looked up to see two doctors in front of me. "Hello Liam."
"What the fuck is going on." I yelled.
They explained everything to me. Our enemy secretly broke into our base and unleashed a gas attack. However this gas attack was a new chemical warfare weapon. Once inhaled it latched on to any food in the stomach. The calories release from the food became a deadly ridiculous amount. But death was prevent by the second affect of the gas. It speed up the fat production process and allowed the skin to become more elastic, allowing the infected to safely grow fatter. Even then those who gained an insane amount of weight had other complications, and were deemed very likely to die. Most of these men were 400lbs or more.
However, the worst part is that the men stayed affected by the gas. Meaning if they ate anything, another massive weight gain would happen. The only positive was these men never had to drink or eat anything ever again.
Our base was the first and two more came after. The doctors feared more attacks. So, they started looking for a way to negate or reverse the affects. But, they weren't able to see how the gas worked first hand. They could have given a man something to eat. But all the men were too big. Giving these men anymore to eat would have been a death sentence. All the men where to big ... except me.
My stomach was completely empty when the gas attack happened. The doctors proceeded to tell me that I was their best choice to help save 100s if not 1000s of my brothers. So, I agreed. In a short time, numerous machines were attached to me. When all of it was done, they brought out a small salad
I put one piece of lettuce in my mouth and the flavor was amazing. It was the best thing I ever ate. All this time, I didn't feel hungry, but now I was starving. I ignored the fork and started shoveling food into my mouth, with my hands. Over the euphoria of the sensations happening in my mouth, I could here the doctors outside the room, yelling to stop. But, I couldn't stop. I didn't want to stop. By the time they came in the room, I was done. But, I was still hungry. I felt my body tingle but, it only made me hungry. I tried to run past the doctors but they stopped me and knocked me out with another dose of tranquilizers.
When I came to, I felt myself laying on a hospital bed again. I was no longer hungry, but I felt heavy. I slowly opened my eyes to face the truth. I looked down to see a hill of fat where my abs once were. I uncover myself and started to examine my new fat body. I sat up and looked into the mirror placed by my bed, as I continued to feel different parts of my body.
My face now had chubby checks and small a double chin, hidden behind my new beard. My stomach jutted out, covered in fur. I used my hands to push it in and felt no signs of the abs that once graced the area. Instead of hard muscular pecs, sitting on my chest were hairy soft breast. I reluctantly touch my new man boobs. It felt weird. As, I touch them I notice how they and my new belly jiggled with every movement. I looked at my, once slender, thighs; they were big, juicy, and also covered in hair. I tried to suck in my stomach but couldn't. It was like my body wasn't use to sucking it in, a muscle I would have to work on.
So, I used my hands to adjust my stomach so I could get a good view of my dick. All this jiggling, reluctantly made my dick hard. Surrounded by fat and a bush of pelvic hair, it didn't even look 8 inches any more. I was lucky if it past of as a 4 incher. I stood up and looked in the mirror. This was my new body ... I couldn't believe one small salad did this.
Over the course of the next few days, doctors came in talk to me. The data they received from me was helpful but, they would need more cases like mine to get enough data. They continued working on a cure but without that additional data they keep running into problems. And that data would never come because, the gas attacks stopped. Many of the world countries secretly got together to stop the country responsible. The use of that gas was a war crime. And, all information was kept secret from the public.
In total I gained 60lbss from eating one salad, going from my fit 186lbs to a fat 249lbs. The rest of the survivors and I were gathered and were given a debriefing. I look around and was a little happy to see I was still one of the thinner guys there. But, you could tell we were all bummed out about our new bodies. We were told to never eat anything again, unless we wanted to die. They explain that as long as we didn't eat anything we wouldn't feel hungry. But, once food entered our mouths we would be insatiable unless we were isolated from all food for a couple of hours.
They also told us the weight gain was permanent no amount of exercise would lead to weight loss, but it would still help the muscle we loss from spending months at the hospital, being inactive.
Many of the bigger guys were forced out of the army. The, still very fat, thinner guys were given a choice to leave. I stupidly agreed to continue serving my country. I didn't realize being overweight, the best way to serve my country was patrolling the streets like some glorified security guard.
Now, I'm constantly mocked by civilians and other soldiers who know nothing about what really happened. I get teased with food and called pig. I had a few close calls where people threw food at my face. Luckily none landed in my mouth. The hardest part is never eating again. It's not that I'm hungry, it more like a habits. Imagine doing the same thing for 26 years of your life and now you can't do it anymore. I miss eating, I just want to be normal again. But, the urge to stay alive is stronger. If I give in, the inner pig would be unleashed, eating every in sight and killing me in the process.
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Therefore I Am | Russell Adler x Bell! Reader VI
Series: Call of Duty: Black Ops Cold War
Therefore I Am | Russell Adler x Bell! Reader
Chapter VI
Word Count: 7400
[Chapter V] [Chapter VII]
Summary: After somehow reconciling with Adler, Bell and the team are left to continue their pursuit of bringing down the undercover spy ring, but it proves to be more of a challenge as Bell struggles to move on from their Perseus-affiliated past.
Content Warning: mature content, vulgar language, drugs, needles
Notes: We're basically at the halfway point for the series! Good job on making it this far, and I pray that this chapter isn’t too confusing. Also if you guys have song recommendations please let me know in the tags or something I’ve been listening to the same stuff over and over.
[Y/N] "Bell" [L/N]
September, 1983
West Berlin, Germany
The ride to the meeting place was a bit tedious.
Admittedly, the entire neighborhood was foreign to you, and it was only recently that you decided to study an aerial reconnaissance photo of West Berlin. Unlike its counterpart, it felt more vast and populated, multitudes of buildings crowding the damn area. One wrong turn and you would probably wind up in an underground tunnel.
On the bright side, you were allowed to pick a vehicle of your choosing.
You had put in a request for a motorcycle a week ago with Sims. He really wasn't joking when he was able to get practically anything, as long as Adler approved (he was the one that keeps the checks after all).
"It's one of the newer models. I had it modified for longer distances and smoother sailing, if you get my gist," Sims had informed as he pulled away the grey tarp. "You have good taste, Bell. Mind if I take it for a joy ride sometime?"
Practically the entire team, aside from Hudson, were already signing up to try out the bike, and you had to set some boundaries. The moment you set eyes on the bad boy you fell in love with it, and knowing everyone else, they would somehow mess it up one way or another.
"Wow. Looks like there's space for two people on there," Woods had commented, who was trailing behind as you pulled the bike outside of the garage earlier today.
"Yep."
"So this op is basically like a date then."
You gave him a confused look. "What are you talking about? I'm going by myself."
"Oh, did we forget to tell you? Adler's going to tag along."
He had a smug face as he told you this. Woods didn't even give out a laugh, just patting you on the back as if content with himself.
"Is this revenge for the five dollars?"
"Nah. But, since you mentioned it, sure, that too."
After bugging Woods for more details, it also turned out Sims had taken the Sudan and van in for maintenance on this very day, and won't be finished for a few hours. You were starting to think some ploy was at hand, and either they were all in on it, or everything just conveniently occurred.
Fast forward about an hour later, Adler's arms were now wrapped around your lower torso as his chest pressed against your arched back. He was wearing the leather jacket you gave back to him with a long sleeve black turtleneck underneath.
He was a bit too close for someone hitching a ride, but you didn't object. His presence kept you warm while you drove on the cold streets of West Berlin. Having someone hug you after God knows how long felt… reassuring, bringing on the feeling of being coveted with a veil of comfort and longing. It took everything to not just pull over and take a moment to wallow in the feeling.
You seize the bike to a stop at a red light, planting a foot onto the pavement. A car comes to a rolling stop next to you, peering at the both of you briefly before playing with the dials of the radio.
"The hotel's going to be on the next left," Adler informs you through his helmet.
"You don't think I know that?"
"Then what's that sticking out of your back pocket?"
"...A map." You could hear him hold back a snicker, and you roll your eyes. "What? As if you never got lost before."
"Me? Never."
The light turns green. You pull your foot back on the hold, and drive off before the car next to you could think about merging to your lane.
As of late, it feels like Adler has been a bit more light-hearted and expressive whenever you both happened to be together. It was hard to tell at first, but it was the inflection in his voice and the barely noticeable curl of the corners of his mouth that gave it away whenever he talked to you specifically. Does he notice similar things about you?
Focusing on the mission, it was a bit spotty. There wasn't much content in the folder Adler was provided. No photo, no name, just the transcript, as well as the meeting place, where you were instructed to look for a man with a white dress shirt and blue-yellow striped tie sitting in front of three ashtrays. The plan was to drop Adler off at a hotel that stood across from the bar you were meeting the asset at, where he would keep watch and provide any needed reinforcements while you had to go in alone.
You pull up to the front of a moderately styled building, parking the motorcycle in an appropriate place. The area was pretty mellow, as it wasn’t very populated.
Taking the keys out, they jingled as you handed it to Adler. "Don't lose it. That's one whole paycheck right there."
"Are you sure you're going to be okay?" he asks, taking off his helmet. He gives his head a little shake to let the hair loosen up before reaching into his jacket and putting his shades back on, even though it was night.
You nod. "I'm just meeting someone. It'll be just like last time, except I won't be sneaking into an apartment." His perpetual look didn't cease at your assurance. "Why, what's wrong?"
"No, it's probably nothing. Just keep your comms on. I'll be your second set of ears."
"If you say so."
Pulling on a beanie, you made sure it covered your ears to hide the earpiece. Adler secures his own, giving you a good luck nod before heading into the hotel. "See you in an hour."
The weather seemed to be in a good mood today, the rain that you associated Berlin with now gone, leaving behind grey streaks of clouds in the night sky. Neon lights protruded through the glass windows, and you could hear the muffled music seeping through the walls as you made your way closer (it would serve as a way to deafen the conversation). The bar was slightly crowded upon entering. Nothing seemed out of place.
It was a simple task: meet up with the guy, learn what he has to say/give, then leave. If everything was done right, there should be no trouble.
You made your way further in, taking small peeks at each table, looking for a row of ash trays. As easy and boring as it sounded, you felt a bit on edge. Even the most simplistic things can be the cause for most problematic issues. Why did Adler sound bothered?
Continuing deeper inside, there was a man sitting towards the middle of the bar at a rounded table pushed against the wall. He was wearing the white shirt as promised and the ugly striped tie. With gelled back dirty blonde hair, you estimate him to be around his early forties. Three ashtrays made from glass sat in front of him, only one in use.
"Bell," you hear Adler, "Did you find them?"
"Yeah."
"Keep a low profile. The room they gave me doesn't give me a clear view of the bar."
You slip into the seat across from the informant. It only took one glance at you for him to break into a wide, welcoming grin.
"It's nice to finally meet you, friend," he greets enthusiastically. "Come have a drink."
Judging from his voice, he already took a few drinks himself. He slides one of his glasses towards you, and you stop it with one hand. Picking the glass up from the rim, you swirl the brownish liquid around, trying to see if there were any strange particles floating at the bottom.
"You have information, yes?" you start.
"Yes, yes of course! But first, introductions."
That's right, you didn't even know this man's name.
"Aleks Ander," you make up on a whim.
It was probably the stupidest undercover name to use. Yet, it seemed to fool the asset in front of you. He seemed like a nice person, perhaps a bit naive.
“Mefodiy Nikitin.”
"Ah. Nice you meet you, Mister Nikitin."
It was a peculiar name, yet there was something awfully familiar about it. And now, having a face to associate with it, the feeling of hostility rose. You knew him from somewhere.
Adler seemed to be on the same wavelength, as you could hear him repeat the name under his breath.
Contradictingly, you still bring the glass up to your lips, tipping it slightly and letting the liquid move. A weird, almond taste filled your mouth the moment it touched your tongue. Alarms started to go off in your head, and following your instinct, you spit it back out in a discreet manner. You survey the table for a glass of water, but only find hard liquor.
Eying Nikitin warily, you put the glass back down and clear your throat. The taste still lingered in your mouth. You haven't drank alcohol for a while. Maybe modern tastes are accustomed to strange flavors.
Something like this would be reason to abort, but you still stayed in place. The mission was to find out what he knew, and you couldn't leave empty handed. Even if the source wasn't immaculate, you needed at least something. "I came here to learn what information you want to share. We do not have all day, my friend."
"Of course. What do you want to know?"
"You tell me.”
He sure liked to beat around the bush, you note. It wasn’t like the Greta Keller mission. At least she was cooperative, even after you both got captured. Nikitin, on the other hand… You could already feel a headache coming on.
Although, you got a good grasp of his character. You expected the guy to be timid in nature, perhaps a bit like Lukas Richter to an extent, but Niktin was the opposite. He seemed like a guy of luxury, who probably likes to dwell in fantasies of being in control. People like him craved for power, trying to scope out the competition, but will avoid everything to get his hands dirty. Spending money to feel himself better, flaunting his richness. A tricky man, if you will.
People like him got on your nerves.
“Well,” he begins. “To start off, how well do you know Perseus?”
"...How the hell does this guy know about Perseus?" Adler voices.
Perseus should have been insider knowledge. Only the top brass knows about the group, so how does Nikitin know of it? Your finger twitched at how easily the name fell off of his tongue, masked in such casualty for someone who's supposed to be a KGB double agent.
"Right," you reply coyly. It was going to be difficult to extract any info from him since you couldn't disclose anything pertaining to the matter, so you had to play your cards carefully. "We haven't heard of anything as of late. I'm hoping your info can help move our investigation efforts forward. Working in the KGB must yield some information, right?"
"Like names of sleeper agents?" Nikitin alludes.
You raise a brow, thinking momentarily back to Lubyanka. "If that's what you have to offer."
He chuckles, fanning a hand in the air as if to relieve the tension. "I'm joking! But yes, I do have something." The agent brings out a floppy disk, setting it down on the table. It was black with scrawled handwriting in blue ink on the paper label. "This should be useful for you."
You reach out to grab it, but Nikitin draws his arm back.
“Is there a problem?” you ask, trying to conceal your increasing irritation.
“I could just hand it over, but a fair exchange would be appropriate for this kind of information, don’t you think?”
“Alright, what do you want?”
Nikitin muses over it, scratching his chin. After a short period passes, his face lightens up, finally coming to a conclusion.
"Russell Adler."
"I'm...sorry?"
His name didn't even register the moment you heard it. Nikitin held a smirk, content with his answer and your reaction. You pull your arm away from his end, sneaking it underneath your jacket while pretending to take another sip of the drink. Your nose wrinkled at the smell of liquor.
"To elaborate, you need to take care of him. After all, he was your assignment when you were with Perseus."
“What's he mean by that?” you could hear Adler growl.
"I don't know what you're talking about," you insist. "But, for you to know of Perseus… Who are you, really?"
The trail to Perseus has been cold as of late, pretty much leaving the CIA to pick up breadcrumbs of intel that was left behind. Your memory was shoddy and complicated, so Nikitin would be one of the biggest leads yet, but this attempt at bargaining information was beyond reasonable. You were going to have to talk to Hudson and Belikov about their selection of assets.
"I already told you who I am," Nikitin responds. "Well, you may not know me personally, but, I did hear lots of great things about you. You made quite a name for yourself in Perseus, Lieutenant Colonel [L/N]."
Your blood ran cold. No one had addressed you by that title for so long.
Then it dawned on you.
East Berlin.
The intel Mason found. Mefodiy Nikitin. His name was one of the ones mentioned there. The man in front of you was a Perseus member?
"But, I heard you go by 'Bell' now."
"The old man must be running out of options if they're recruiting people like you.” You couldn't help but chuckle at him, looking at the pathetic face he made in an attempt at intimidation. He truly was naïve. “I'm actually starting to feel a bit sorry for you all. I switch sides and you're all already beginning to fumble."
"How the general even put up with your bullshit is beyond my understanding," Nikitin belittles in return, balling his fist at the humility. "He's too trustworthy of you. Even after what the Americans did to you, he still has some faith that you'll come crawling back to him. Hell, I even went through all this effort to meet you.”
“You set this up?”
“With some false promises and a case full of cash, what kind of CIA agent wouldn’t jump on the opportunity?”
"The ones who are no longer alive."
The network you've all been working hard to dismantle was already rebuilding itself. Your mind races back to Nikitin's earlier words, anxiety beginning to pave its way in. The conversation should have been cut off as soon as he refused to give you the disk, but there was something about the way he spoke that drew your attention. He knew something you didn't. "Is this your way of blackmail? What the hell do you have to offer that I don't know about?"
"Ah, I got your interest now didn't I?" Nikitin clasps his hands together and rubs them as if he were about to partake in a feast, a sick feeling washing over you. He was enjoying this little game of cat and mouse, just holding onto the intel like bait. "Perfect! Let's get to business then."
"Bell! Forget him, just grab the—"
Adler's voice is cut off as the sound of silenced gunfire occurred right behind you. The civilians around you gave out yelps of shock, before they slumped over, as if they had lost all control of their muscles. Glasses shattered as they fell onto the floor, the translucent shards mixing in with the dark colors of the alcoholic drinks it once harbored.
Twisting around, you see two men standing amidst the bodies, guns in their hands.
You whipped out your pistol within the blink of an eye, just as Nikitin's men redirected their aim at your direction.
"To think the asset I had to meet up with is nothing more than a puny attempt of manipulation from a man who doesn't know how to control his ego," you fumed.
Your instincts were going off, screaming at you to run, but being held at gunpoint didn't exactly give you the advantage you need. You should have listened to your gut feeling. The resentment that had coiled within the depths of your stomach was beginning to unravel as you feel a rush of adrenaline coming forth. Looking down the sights, the shot was perfectly lined up within the space between Nikitin's eyes.
"But, to have gotten this far, I must be doing something right," he comments.
The civilians.
Your finger twitched, hovering just mere millimeters from finishing the job. The impulse to kill him was getting difficult to fight off. You were going to do it.
But just as you were about to rest your finger on the trigger, something warm ran over your lips and off of your chin. It gave off a dark sheen as it plattered onto the table, a couple more droplets following suit. What the fuck?
You wipe your nose with the back of your hand, and your eyes widen, seeing a red streak painted across. A nosebleed?
"Is it taking effect?" Nikitin inquires with disgusting amusement.
You flick your hand. "What the fuck did you give me?"
"I didn't know how much to add, but assuming from your reaction, it's pretty strong. Apparently even a small intake can do lots to the consumer."
You could feel yourself getting lightheaded and drowsy, but consider yourself lucky enough to be let off without much other effects of whatever strange drug he spiked your drink with. The nutty taste never left your palate.
"I've heard you to be cunning and ruthless, but look at you now," Nikitin mocks. "Accepting drinks from a stranger. How American."
"You—"
"Bell!"
Nikitin’s gaze redirects to something behind you, the entry door being kicked open, as well as the surprised yelps of the two agents. As a result, you feel something pierce your right shoulder, and you grind your molars to stifle the howl that almost escaped as you recoiled back a few steps. It hurt like a bitch, but you had to tolerate it.
Turning around, you see Adler barge through the entrance, taking down Nikitin's men with ease. His shots strike them right at the chest, their bodies collapsing over the wooden tables and knocking everything off of it.
“Ah, so this is the infamous Russell Adler," Nikitin muses loudly. "To think the man you were assigned to kill is now your best friend. You were such great buddies with Naga as well, I wonder what he'll—”
"Shut. Up."
You shoot him in the shoulder in revenge, earning an excruciating yelp from him. Nikitin's hand flies to cover his wound, and yet he guffaws, a sadistic smile spreading across his face.
“You really lost it now! I-It's a bit disheartening to see you were never able to complete the task. But, then again, I guess Kuzmin will be ecstatic to hear that." Nikitin shifts his attention to Adler. "He does have a vendetta against you after all."
Kuzmin? Adler?
"...What is he talking about, Bell?" Adler joins in, rushing to your side after checking on one of the civilians. Oddly enough, there were no open wounds on any of the innocents, just one round of tranquilizer darts in each of them. Nikitin really didn't want a mess to clean up.
"How the hell am I supposed to know?"
The information was overbearing— too much happened within the short span of the past hour. Everything went deeper than you had surmised. Just trying to wrap your head around everything made your headache worse. The name Kuzmin and Naga was constantly recurring in your mind, and you swore Perseus himself had even said these aliases a couple times.
Shit.
You didn't want a repeat of that morning.
Shoving the barrel into Nikitin's forehead, you yell, "Who the hell is Kuzmin?!"
"V-Vikhor Kuzmin, of course!"
Adler turns to you now, you could feel his scrutinizing gaze poking at you behind those shades. "You know Stitch?" he asks. You could detect remains of hatred and detest as he said the name.
Nikitin laughs. "Of course they do! They were colleagues—"
“Enough!” you interject. “I'm tired of your shit. This is going nowhere."
Adler picks up the floppy disk, eyes darting between the label and you. "Bell, is there something you haven't told us?"
"I already told you everything I know, didn't I?" you insist irritably, but it was a feasible attempt. The confidence you had earlier was draining.
"Well, after hearing what he had to say, there's clearly something else."
"What is this, an interrogation? I don't know—" You give out a frustrated groan, feeling the migraine persist. "Fuck, I can't think—"
"This would be the perfect opportunity to kill Adler, [L/N]!" the Perseus member interjects provokingly. "Redeem yourself! At least Perseus never brainwashed you—"
You shoot him in the thigh, and he lets out a yowl.
"Do you ever shut up?!" you seethed. "For a Perseus member you sure like to run your fucking mouth. Is that how the general planned to rope me back into his stupid scheme? By pissing me off?"
"That's enough, Bell!" Adler warns. As much as he wanted to shut the guy up, he was the only other person associated with Perseus that the CIA managed to get close to. "If you're telling the truth, then I want this guy. Alive."
He could tell you were about to snap from your dark expression. He puts a hand on your arm, guiding it downward and away from Nikitin with the gentle touch of his gloved hands. "Enough."
Calm down.
You needed to stop letting him get under your skin. But with that damn cocky, arrogant grin of his, you just wanted to knock his teeth in. He kept going on and on about this Kuzmin character and killing Adler, and your inability to make sense of what he was referring to only added onto the aggravation.
Don't trust Adler.
“Yes! That look!" Nikitin exclaims upon noticing your conflict. "Do it. Shoot me. It’s what you do best, isn’t it [L/N]?”
"Volkov said the same thing," you growl. "You're one of his rats?"
"So you do remember. One could only imagine my surprise when I discovered that you sent him off to the M16." He cackles. "Though, I guess hearing what happened to your British friend back in Cuba, it’s a fair trade, don’t you think?”
"Ignore him." Adler stuffs his gun behind, taking it upon himself to restrain Nikitin, who winced at each subtle movement. Holding him under the arm, Adler hauls him up to his feet begrudgingly.
Hearing no response, he turns his attention to you. “Bell?”
Your gun goes off, a single bullet shell clattering at your feet while white wisps of smoke trail out the barrel. Nikitin’s body slips away from Adler’s grip, landing on the floor with a heavy thud.
You stuffed your firearm back in its place. That was one less person to worry about.
“What the fuck Bell?” Adler seizes your wrists. “I wanted him alive!”
“My bike didn’t have enough space anyway.”
“The bike? This isn’t about your fucking bike! He was a Perseus member, for crying out loud! Do you know how much we could have—”
“You said you wanted Nikitin alive if I was telling the truth.” You bend down, searching Nikitin’s pockets for anything beneficial. In the end you take his watch, knowing that a lot of agents within the rogue organization held items with secret compartments for their leisure. “I'm just making it easier for both of us. Just give me another of your stupid injections. That'll balance things out, wouldn't it?"
"Are you out of your fucking mind?"
"Seeing how things just played out, I might just be," you articulate. "And stop yelling, my head's about to burst."
"I'm NOT—" He catches himself, bringing his voice down to a good level. "You can't just go and kill someone because they got under your skin, Bell."
"As if you haven’t done so on occasion. I was just doing us a favor." Shuffling through the pockets, you find a phial with an unrecognizable substance. You push against your knees and straighten, stuffing it and the watch into your jeans. "Bastard tried to drug me, and dishonored Park? I should have killed him the moment your name escaped his mouth."
Adler won't admit it, but he found himself a bit tense and astonished at your own brutal nature that somehow slipped through the cracks. It was the twitch of your eye and the tense grip of the handle that gave away your resistance against the urge to kill the Perseus spy, but in the end you caved in. Was that the type of person you were when working with Perseus?
Though, he noted, there were always signs of that hidden, disturbing trait of yours. Adler bared first-hand witness to your surprise attacks on unsuspecting individuals, and the "creative" ways you would finish them off.
No wonder Perseus continued to pursue you. He trained a loyal soldier. But, Adler knew that there was more to you than just a Soviet-made killer.
"Fuck it," he hisses. "Let's get out before the cops come."
"What about the civis?"
"Leave them, they're tranquilized. Give them an hour or two to wake up."
0000
During the ride back to the safe house, there was that feeling of disconnection, both between your own feelings, and with Adler.
It was silent on the way back, and you had to stuff the earbuds in your ear just to avert your attention from what you had just done. The decision to kill Nikitin came easy, but it was the fact that you did it because of his provocation is what startled you the most.
You couldn't think properly, and whatever was in your drink still coursed through your system, despite taking that tiny amount. Adler's growing concerns weren't heard as you put the bike into full throttle, speeding through traffic lights and empty roads.
The comfort of Adler's arms around your waist lost it's magic, and it felt a bit suffocating. Whatever Nikitin implied, of you having a duty to kill Adler, still persisted in your mind, and you couldn't bear to look at him with that guilty conscience.
So with your only lead gone, that left the floppy disk, and you. It would take a couple hours to decrypt everything, but you had a feeling that it would only provide the bare minimum of evidence, so that leaves you and your memory.
And there was one way to trigger it.
The moment you both arrive at the hideout, you immediately head to the bathroom. Woods attempted to ask how it went, but you pushed past him. That left Adler to answer the questions.
"What's up with Bell?" he asked. "You didn't do anything, did you? Because, if you did—"
"Bell killed the asset."
Woods raised an eyebrow in interest. "Damn, what'd they do to piss them off?"
Adler didn't find it funny. "Talk."
"Must be within good reason then?"
"That's what I'm trying to find out."
Slamming the door closed, you lock it and lean against the door. Exhaustion began to overwhelm your body as the adrenaline died out, and your shoulder felt like it was being held on top of an open flame.
Looking at it, you could feel the bullet wedged in there. It wasn't too deep, but was a good hit. Peeling the top of your clothes away, you sucked in air as you carefully removed the fabric from the area. The sight wasn’t pleasant, and the air stung at the raw flesh.
You pull one of the drawers open, retrieving a fresh cloth and ran it under the faucet. Taking a seat on the counter, you carefully wiped down the surrounding area, grimacing as the fibers brushed against your skin. Medical attention wasn’t your specialty, since there was always someone else to do the work.
“Bell?” Adler’s voice came from the other side of the door, causing you to stiffen. “Are you going to hide like a coward, or am I going to have to fucking force the door open?”
Well, he’s pissed. You didn’t blame him though.
“Can’t I get some privacy around here?” you hiss, trying to cover up your nerves.
“Seeing how you just murdered someone right in front of me after disobeying my order, I think that should be the least of your concerns. Now open the damn door.”
Sighing exasperatedly, you quickly cover yourself up and set the cloth down. There really was no way to avoid the guy. Just how the hell were you going to explain everything? You, yourself, couldn’t even fully comprehend everything, leaving it up to speculation and theories that your shrewd up mind came up with.
You flush the toilet before opening the door, hoping to throw Adler off your trail for a bit. “I’m kind of busy at the moment.”
“The hell you are. Get out. We need to talk.”
"You're really going to interrogate me in front of a toilet?" you reply snarkily.
He ignores the comment. "We're not finished yet."
Adler grabs your wrist, only to realize that you were shaking. You refused to look him in the eye, biting the insides of your cheek in shame.
The metallic smell was starting to bother him, and his eyes did a quick scan, and noticed that there was a hole in your jacket. Startled, Adler tugs at the zipper and opens it, pulling the edges back only to reveal the red seeping through your clothes underneath.
"You're hurt."
"You realize that now?"
“Un-fucking-believable.”
Adler ushers you back into the bathroom, gesturing you to hop back onto the counter. You oblige, waiting as he takes out a kit and a new rag from underneath the sink. He unpacks everything, taking out a thin needle and some thread while setting a couple of pads and tape to the side.
“You better tell me what happened at the bar,” Adler says, pulling the thread through the eye of the needle. “Or I’m never sending you on another mission again.”
"I got shot."
"No shit."
“I told you what you wanted to hear, didn't I?” you chided. It was uncharacteristic of him. He never really batted an eye in your direction when it came to previous wounds, yet today he was more considerate. "Why're you getting so worked up about it?"
Adler wrings the cloth out in the sink. “Gee, I don't know [L/N]. Maybe it's because our only lead is gone, and now you try to hide the fact that there's a bullet in your damn shoulder?”
"It's nothing."
"Last time someone said that, it got infected. You don't wanna know what happened afterwards." He brings the towel up to your shoulder. "Take off your shirt."
"What is this, a strip search?"
"My god, just fucking— Your damn shoulder Bell, just show it."
You shrugged off your jacket, undoing the first three buttons to your dress shirt, and pull your arm out of the sleeve, exposing the rightmost side of your body. "There, happy?"
Adler's eyes notice the two scars on your chest that barely peeked out from underneath the fabric. He brings the cloth to the shoulder in an attempt to not get distracted, but his sight wanders back to it.
The tissue was discolored and discernable from your actual skin complexion. They were both close in proximity, just right above your sternum. He already saw one of them— the bullet they extracted from your chest was used as evidence of the illegal gun cargo at Trabzon Airport. But, the other scar…
"Are you going to just stare at your mistake and let me bleed out, or are we going to get this over with?"
You break his line of thought, and Adler disinfects the tweezers, before proceeding to pull out the single round in your shoulder.
Right. He was supposed to be mad at you.
“I can't even take my eyes off of you for one second, can I?" he grumbles, shifting his mood appropriately. You shuffle a bit as you feel Adler pull the lump out. "Stop fucking moving, Bell, it might sink in more.”
You turn towards him. “You met this Vikhor Kuzmin, haven't you?”
Adler ceases all movement at the mention of the name. Behind his glasses, you could see him lost in thought for a brief moment, before continuing to work on your shoulder.
He places the bullet down on the bloodstained rag beside him, before taking the needle. “I’m not going to talk until you tell me what happened,” he responds brusquely with a bit of malice.
You trail off, leaning your head against the wall behind you.
Vikhor Kuzmin, meeting Adler… All the pieces started to link up with one another, the puzzle slowly becoming more finished each move. Whatever Perseus was planning, you played a part in it, and knowing that his grasp on you was still strong made you reluctant to even return to the safehouse, not knowing what'll happen to you.
But you needed to confirm it. If your memory was correct, then the CIA could use it to their advantage. You hated being used, but you didn't want Perseus to win. The only thing in your way was your psychological roadblock that prevented you from remembering.
"Before I tell you," you bargain. "I want you to do something for me."
He finishes stitching your wound closed, placing a pad above it before wrapping bandages around, bringing over the shoulder and under your arms.
"You're in no position to barter with me."
"I'm your only connection to Perseus, so we both know damn well that an injection is in order."
Adler straightens up, eyes narrowed. "What the fuck are you talking about—"
"From back then. The MKUltra shit. I need it."
The psychoactive drugs. That's the solution you came to?
"You're not thinking straight."
He begins to put everything back into the box, and you sit up and grab him by the collar and pull him close. Adler could see the desperation written all over your face as you gave out shaky breaths. But, he wasn't swayed.
"Adler—"
"You just got drugged with an unknown substance, and now you're claiming that running you through the procedure will somehow recover your memories. I’m not going to give you an injection over something so trivial.”
"Trivial? This isn’t fucking trivial! How can being sent as a hitman and setting off Nova Six be trivial?!"
Adler shakes his head. Your requests were beyond reasonable now, and you were coming up with some Hollywood spy flick plot with hitmen and Nova Six. Maybe you were hallucinating.
"I'm not going to give you the injection Bell. It's too damn risky. The trigger phase was meant to recall memories of Vietnam, not anything else."
Following that conversation you both had the morning after East Berlin, he swore to never touch upon the topic of MKUltra, or anything directly correlated to it. Not again.
"Why not?! You didn’t hesitate to fucking poke a needle in my eye last time. So, what’s different about now?”
He pries your hand off of his collar. “You know why.”
"Don't you dare bring personal feelings into this," you beseech, "Especially when millions of lives are at stake."
"You're not the one administering the fucking thing Bell. You don't have the authority to decide—"
"Whoever this Vikhor Kuzmin is, they're with Perseus," you argue. "They're planning something. I know it's risky, but if you would just run me through the scenarios one more time, I'll find out what it is."
"Bullshit. Kuzmin is in prison."
"He's not! Why can't you just listen to me?!"
At this point, trying to convince Adler was like talking to a brick wall. As much as you despised the medbay, you were about to walk in there yourself and poke it in your damn eye if it meant figuring out everything Nikitin told you.
You and Adler glared at each other, and your little show started drawing the attention of others just down the hall.
Taking a deep breath, you lower your voice so only he could hear. "Nikitin said that I knew Kuzmin. I-I don't know how important this guy is, but if I worked with him, then there's still some unfinished business. I don't care what you think, but there's no fucking way I'm letting this slip past, especially if I already know the answer. Nikitin's should have been our lead, but I fucked up, okay?"
"[L/N]—"
You cut him off. "Just let me do this for you. For the team."
There was a pleading look in your eye, and Adler could feel your craving of answers about your past. Getting left in the dark for so long must have taken a toll on you, and he couldn't even begin to fathom to imagine how it must feel to live life with a large chunk of your memories being locked off behind a door that could never be reached. There was nothing in the archives nor any of the foreign databases of your birth records or identity, other than the one he had made for you. Your life was so shrouded in mystery, it sometimes even felt like you were just a by-product of the CIA. And he just so happened to be one of the reasons why you were like this.
Adler presses his lips in a thin line, before cracking open the door and entering the back part of the safehouse, with you following closely.
"Lazar," he announces, "Meet us in the medbay."
The aforementioned male perks up at his name, placing down the newspaper in his hand. "Why, what's happening?"
"Our back up plan."
"You don't mean…"
"We're doing it."
Lazar shoots you a look of concern, remembering the seizures that you had last time. "No."
"Well, we don't have a choice," Adler dejects. "The asset's dead thanks to Bell."
"Hey!" you chime in. "It was fully well—"
"Enough. We talked over this already. Don't make me change my mind."
Mason and Woods played witness to the events that occurred in front of them, but didn't partake in the conversation. They've only heard rumors and a half-assed retelling of what happened in the medbay back in 1981, so they could only infer what you three were talking about.
It didn't stop them from prying, though, Mason immediately getting up from his spot. "What's going on?"
"It's none of your concern, Mason," Adler states sternly, pushing open the door to the room.
Mason, unsatisfied, grabs the handle and pulls it closed within a flash. "I think it is," he replies coldly. "What the hell are you planning to do to Bell?"
"Let go of the damn door."
"Not until you tell us what's happening."
"Mason," you join in a weary voice. "It's fine. We're just going to go over some things. It should give us a better angle on Perseus."
He tries to read into it, but the only thing he saw was a person who's been through too much shit in their lifetime, clothes speckled in red spots and the innocent light long gone from their eyes. Yet there was that newfound determination behind it all, and he knew there was no use trying to argue.
"As much as we have in common," Mason indulges, letting go. "I'll never understand why you go this far."
You grin weakly. "So no one else has to do the dirty work."
Your hands were far from clean. Compared to everyone else, you were sure you hit high on the list when it came to war crimes. Hell, your own existence became one. Even on the CIA database you're listed as MIA and under the watchlist, and the only ones that knew the truth was the team.
Lazar closes the blinds to the rooms, granting you three a bit of privacy. Adler gives him a brief rundown on what you told him, and you were met with disagreement once again.
“You don’t need to do this Bell.”
“Your right. I have to," you elaborate. "We're running out of options here.”
"There's the floppy disk."
"I'll get to it after. The more the merrier is the saying, right?"
Lazar wasn't looking forward to this, but if what you knew was that important, to a point where you pleaded to be put under this serum, then they definitely needed to find out. The CIA's been chasing around Perseus for god knows how long, and you're a key part to taking him down.
"Are you sure?"
"Stop asking, or else I might start getting second thoughts."
The plan was superficial, with the highest possibility of going to tits down (or up, as Sims put it). If you were going to subject yourself to one of the most mentally draining interrogations you had, then you might as well get the full authentic experience.
You adjust the light that hung above accordingly, making the position similar to before. Lying down on the gurney, it felt like you were about to go into a mental asylum. You had to convince Lazar to wrap the leather cuffs around. "Come on, you don't want me falling off and hitting my head, do you?"
"I would honestly prefer you to hit your head and pass out than to go through all this shit again."
"Thanks for the pep talk."
As you both verbally loosen up, Adler shifts through the shelves, pushing aside boxes to reveal that old black duffel bag. He unzips it, and sees the god-forsaken phial with the sickening yellow liquid just sitting at the bottom, just right above the old booklet. Bringing them out, he passes the manual to Lazar, before he himself rips open a new syringe from its package and disinfects it.
Adler turns around once he's done, feeling a bit of remorse as he sees your weakened figure. "Your arm."
"No. Intracerebral. Like last time."
"Don't be ridiculous. You know how dangerous that was?"
"Fucking do it," you growl, before resting your head back down.
"You're insane, you know that?"
"All part of the package."
He flicks the needle, testing it. "Are you ready?"
You nod as he positions it right above your eye while holding your chin to keep your head still. Staring right down at the needle, your stomach churned, knowing what's going to happen next.
Damn, through the eye socket?
Clenching your jaw, you brace yourself. "Hit me."
Without any countdown, Adler plunges it into your eye. You writhed in pain, nails digging into your already stained hands. Your legs shuffled in an attempt to instinctively move away from the needle, but with the cuffs around your wrists, you were going nowhere.
"Fuck!"
"Don't squint Bell, it's only going to make it worse," you hear Lazar advise.
Adler takes the needle out, trying to keep a level head. He didn't want to do this, but trying to reason and extract any information from you without it would be more tedious and cumbersome. Plus, how could he ignore that pleading look in your eye? It was like a whining puppy begging to try chocolate. But of course, chocolate is deadly to dogs.
He didn't want to verbally agree with you, but if you had anything relating to Perseus still hidden within the depths of your mind, and if it had the chance of pushing the investigation forward, then so be it.
Adler watches as your movements begin to ease, your pupils expanding as the dosage begins to take effect. Your tense expression loosens up as you plant your head back down, eyes glued to a random spot of the ceiling with drooping eyelids.
He and Lazar share a look of uncertainty.
Adler resists the unexpected compulsion to reach out and grasp your hand. This was something you had to do on your own, and he was just there to make it happen. He just prayed that everything went better this time around.
He takes a deep breath, before uttering the words he too has come to despise.
"We've got a job to do."
#russell adler x reader#adler x reader#russell adler x bell#cod black ops cold war#black ops cold war#call of duty#call of duty x reader#bo:cw#text#fanfic#bell#russell adler#abcd briefing#call of duty imagine#sorry this took a while had to rewrite it#:)))) suffer
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Quarantine - 2
There was no sign the house had any other occupants for days. I hadn’t been able to drag the mattress out of the room where he had put it. It was heavy and I couldn’t compress it enough to get it through the door.
I went back to working from home. The conference calls helped me feel sane. After a while it was easy to pretend the whole thing was some fever dream. I was pretending, though. I still hadn’t tried to open the closet. Grocery delivery was set on a rotation so that once a week they arrived at the gate. My neighbours had theirs brought right up to the house. Mine were always left at the gate of the picket fence that surrounded the front yard.
I used the hedge trimmers to shape the lilac bushes that the neighbours on each side had planted to obscure their view of my house. I weeded and mowed the lawn wishing for grass seed before just giving up and calling it a meadow. Some of the flowers were even pretty. I chuckled with my friends about how much drywall I was going to need when this was over. We laughed about how it was lucky I was alone instead of having a roommate watching me through the holes in the walls.
Well, they laughed. I sort of more chuckled nervously.
I kept an eye on my laptop battery and there weren’t any unexplained power outages. Everything seemed normal.
Until I was cleaning out the basement and found the wine room. I don’t know wine, but there was a lot of it and the newest bottle that I could find was pre world war two.
I wasn’t expecting it to still be good. It was. It felt ridiculous drinking a hundred year old bottle of red wine with a frozen dinner. I did it anyway.
“Are you still here?” I demanded as I was getting ready for bed.
There was no answer.
I found the box that had my vibrator in it and fell asleep in a sweaty puddle.
I woke up a little hung over and found my vibe squeaky clean on the bathroom sink when I went to brush my teeth. My stomach dropped.
“Were you watching me?” I hissed. I don’t know what sort of reply I was expecting, but I didn’t get one.
Once again, I tried to move the mattress to another room. Once again, I failed. I spent the night wrapped in a blanket, sitting on the floor in the other bedroom, with my laptop plugged in and netflix running to keep me company.
I screamed and stood up when he said from the doorway, “I get lonely too.”
“Jesus Christ!”
He chuckled, “Not even close.” There was a moment of silence as I strained my eyes to see something, anything, in the dark. “I can’t leave either,” he whispered. I stood there shaking in the light from my laptop screen. “Sleep in the bed. I will not bother you.”
I didn’t move. He had just sounded sad when he said it.
“Why can’t I ever see you?” I asked.
“I live in the shadows, you can only see me in darkness.”
I blinked at that. “But you are always here.”
“Yes.”
“And I can’t see in the dark,” I pointed out.
“I know.”
I didn’t know how to respond to that, so I changed the subject. “What do you want from me?”
“When you first arrived, you slept in the garden. If you had started by sleeping in the house, I would have run you off. But you were fixing things, so I let you stay. I got used to you being around. Then you got sick and it would have been so easy to just let you die. I would have gone back to being on my own. I no longer want to be on my own but I hadn’t considered the weight of you being unable to leave. I do not like the idea of you being scared of me and trapped here.”
“But I am,” I mumbled.
“Yes. So take care of yourself. Sleep in the bed. Care for the house. I will stay out of your way.”
I licked my lips. I didn’t want to ask but I had to know. “What were you doing with my vibrator?”
There was no answer. I waited for what felt like an eternity before I continued. “Look, it isn’t a good idea to share sex toys, so depending on where it’s been, I might need to throw it out. I can’t exactly get a new one just now. Please just tell me.”
It was the barest whisper, “I wanted to taste you.”
I froze feeling like a deer in the headlights, completely unsure how to respond to that.
“I have not touched you since you asked me not to,” he argued.
Except for when I almost fell, I thought. You caught me then. And my laptop. I wouldn’t have been able to get a new one of those either. I wondered if soap and water would do it or if I was going to end up with some shadow monster disease. How do you even ask that?
“Ok,” I mumbled. I stood there in the dark and silence. The house was silent. I realized I hadn’t heard rattles or banging or hissing since I learned he was here. “Nyctophobia,” I blurted out.
“I don’t understand,” he replied.
I shifted awkwardly. “Can I call you Nick?”
The silence continued. Then, “Why?”
“Nameless things are more scary. It isn’t as bad having a roommate named Nick.”
He never did answer. Eventually, I sat back down on the floor and wrapped the blanket more tightly around myself. I wasn’t brave enough to walk through a pitch dark house, past a staircase, to get to the room where there was a monster in the closet.
----
There was coffee waiting for me when I got up, and the smell of cinnamon buns baking in the oven. The oven timer said there was 10 minutes left. I peeked inside to find the tiniest pan of monkey bread baking. I recognized the recipe and pulled out the cookbook it came from. Sure enough, in Nick’s careful handwriting was notations about scaling the recipe down to one sixth of how it had been published.
He had used pencil.
“Is this a peace offering?” I asked.
I didn’t get a response, but he did the dishes while I had my bath that morning.
When my groceries were delivered, popcorn had been added to my order.
I didn’t see him. Well, I mean, I never see him, but the only signs of him were things being done and left obviously done while I was bathing or getting dressed. Aside from how nice it was to not do the dishes I appreciated the signs that he was not watching me.
It came as a surprise when I went to put the popcorn in the microwave and the power went out.
“Nick? What are you doing?”
“This isn’t me,” he hissed.
I was lifted and carried squirming through the dark before being pushed into a space and having the door locked behind me. I panicked as I thought I might be in his closet before I realized I was in the wine cellar. Flashes of Edgar Allen Poe stories ran through my mind.
I have no idea how long I was in there, in the dark with my heart pounding as I tried to get the door to open. Eventually, it did.
“All better now,” he assured me, breathing down the back of my neck.
There were a lot of cop cars outside on the street.
“What happened?” I asked. There wasn’t any answer.
A uniformed officer rang my bell, then politely stepped back from my door the requisite six feet.
“Did you hear or see anything unusual last night, Ma’am?” he asked after identifying himself.
Yeah, all the time, I thought. There was still no way to say that and sound sane. I went with a modified version of the truth. “The power went out around 10pm and I ended up stuck in the basement since I couldn’t see the stairs.”
He frowned at me. “Have you noticed anything missing? Any signs of a break in?”
“No? Should I have?”
He appeared to consider this, then stepped further back to look at the state of my house. “There were break-ins all down this street last night. This place might not have been a target.”
“Is everyone OK?” I asked.
“It’s an ongoing investigation,” replied walking towards me again. “I can not disclose anything further, ma’am.”
I swallowed, “That sounds like a no.”
“Do you mind if I come in and have a look around?”
I considered this, “Do you generally advise that women living alone let strange men into their houses? If you are coming to search, I want my lawyer here as a witness.”
He was already peering in around me. The house isn’t that big and the walls were all gone. He could see the whole main floor whether he came in or not.
“Doing some renovations I see.”
No shit Sherlock. “My building permit is posted in my window. I haven’t been able to get trades people out in months but-”
“I'm sure everything is in order with that. Good day.” Then he left. Standing on the porch I could hear him telling the other officers what a shit hole my house was. He thought it should be condemned.
I mean, he was right, still you never like to hear that. And it didn’t need to be condemned. I had the structural engineer’s report to prove it.
I went to work while keeping an eye on the news sites.
It wasn’t break ins. It was looters. The house next to me and the four next to it, all the way to the corner, had been hit. The owners had been found tied up at best and dead at worst with a variety of options in between.
It has escalated all the way down the street.
Then stopped before my house.
“Nick? What did you do?”
He wasn’t talking to me yet.
----
I sat on my bed and waited for the sun to go down. My laptop was in the kitchen. My phone was next to me but set to do not disturb. I waited, straining my ears for any noise.
“Are you there?”
Nothing was said but I was sure I could feel him watching me.
“Please tell me what happened.”
“No one comes into my house,” he snarled.
I swallowed and fought down my fear. “I did.”
“You are different. You are helping.”
I considered that. He had walls before I got here, now he didn’t.
“Am I safe from you?”
“Yes.” It would have been more comforting if he hadn’t growled it.
That was the point where I started to cry. I had made it through everything life had thrown at me without turning into a weepy woman, but that did it. I’m going to blame it on a night of panicking in the wine cellar combined with news reports detailing what had happened to my neighbours.
“Please don’t,” he whispered.
I sniffled. “Fuck. Why don’t I have kleenex?”
A roll of toilet paper was pressed into my hands. I ripped off a length and blew my nose in a way that women in the movies never do, then I jumped as he stroked my cheek with a cool finger, catching my tears. His hand was gone an instant later.
“What if they come back tonight?”
“They won’t,” he said firmly. I don’t think he was talking about the ongoing police presence on the street.
“What did you do?” I sniffled.
“I defended my home. That includes you now.”
I didn’t know how to respond to that. I wasn’t sure that I couldn’t catch glimpses of him as the lights on the street kept flashing. Red, blue, huge black shadow.
“I don’t want to be alone right now,” I whispered.
The bed dipped but when I reached my arm out in that direction all I could find was a long fingered hand to hold mine. “You won’t be.”
I felt him tug at the blankets underneath me and I slid over so he could turn them back. Even in the dark I could find my sleep shirt under my pillow. I stood up next to the bed, stripped and pulled it over my head. Under the covers looking at the ceiling. Red, blue, shadow, red, blue shadow.
“Are you .. human shaped?”
“I can be.”
I snorted, “What kind of answer is that?”
“An honest one.”
I rolled on to my side so that my back was to him, or at least to where I thought he was.
“I can go.”
“Can you stay?”
The weight on the bed changed. “Don’t try to look at me, you will only give yourself nightmares.”
“You said you’ve read Blue Beard?”
“Yes.”
“Have you read Cupid and Psyche?”
He just snickered.
“I’ll take that as a yes. Does any of that apply here?”
“Are you going to try to burn me with an oil lamp?” he teased.
“Are you going to get me pregnant then cast me out into the wilds?” I countered.
He hissed at that, “Never.”
“Never get me pregnant or -”
“I’m not human. We can’t procreate. I can’t make you sick. You can’t make me sick. We can drive each other insane and you will be able to escape someday. I can not leave.”
“Why not?”
“You need to rest. Don’t ask questions with scary answers.”
“How am I supposed to know they are scary?”
“Because you are asking a monster. Now, go to sleep.”
That was the most ridiculous thing but I wasn’t up to arguing about it. Not while there was still an active crime scene next door.
I fell asleep to the feeling of him stroking my back.
----
The only furniture in the bed room was the bed and a few boxes of random stuff I had moved in. I woke to find one of them had been used as a table and was holding breakfast for me. Or at least a travel mug of coffee and a plate of toast. I sat in bed, drank my coffee, ate my toast and read the thirty seven emails from everyone I knew asking what the fuck happened next door.
I ended up posting a blanket statement on facebook that I was fine. I was still in my house. I had no idea what had happened other than what I had seen on the news. Then I posted a picture of the three squad cars I could still see out my bedroom window.
My boss emailed me to ask when he could expect the report I had been assigned, so that took up the rest of my day. It was getting dark when I realized I hadn’t eaten all day. Another freezer meal, some salad and I was raiding the wine cellar again, god damn it!
As I was pouring wine into a coffee mug, he asked me, “Are you drinking alone?”
I got up, took another mug out of the cupboard, poured a second drink and turned off the kitchen light. “Nope. I’m not alone. You’re here.”
He didn’t answer, as I ate my dinner by the light of the street lights outside. The porch light was outside the kitchen window, so I turned it on to wash the dishes then turned it off to go upstairs. It would have been better if I hadn’t stubbed my toe on the bottom step. I swore. Nick picked me up and carried me up the stairs.
“I didn’t have that much to drink!” I protested.
“No, but you can’t see in the dark.” He tucked me safely into bed.
“Did you change the sheets?” I asked. He didn’t answer. “You did, didn’t you?”
My laptop opened and his body blocked the screen for a few moments. Then Brooklyn 99 came on and it was set next to me.
“Why are you doing this?”
“We need a distraction. Call Penny.”
“We need a distraction? We?”
“Yes.”
I hesitated. “Do you need me to move out and camp in the backyard for a few days?”
His reply was a nonverbal roar that rattled the windows and set off a car alarm outside.
There was a commotion then the cops were knocking on my door. I sighed and turned on the lights. I decided to be proactive this time. I flung open the door and demanded “What the hell are you doing out here?”
The cops on my porch blinked.
“I’m trying to sleep! Can you keep the noise down? Please? I know whatever you are doing is important but can you just do it a little quieter?”
“That wasn’t us!” the youngest protested.
“Then can you find out who it was and make them stop?”
To my delight, they left.
I closed the door, smiled to myself and bounced off a wall of darkness that caught me before I rebounded against the door.
“I do not want you sleeping outside!” he growled in my ear.
There were one set of arms around my shoulders and another holding my hips and back. I tried to think of a ‘what big arms you have Mr Wolf’ quip but it died on my lips and the touch was gone in an instant.
“Nick? Can you help me not trip on things on my way to the stairs?”
Hands on my hips, pushing me gently forward and steering me around boxes. Another hand guiding mine to the banister. Then nothing. I carefully inched my way upstairs. I did that awkward thing at the top where you think there is still one more step but there isn’t so your leg falls through nothing and you stumble. To my right was the bedroom, still lit by the flickering screen of my computer.
I climbed into bed and closed it.
Then I opened it, stared at the browser for a moment, then closed it again.
“What’s wrong?”
I considered this. I really had no secrets from him anymore. “I’m anxious and keyed up. I need … some ‘alone time’ but it’s weird if you are watching.”
“Would it be better if I was helping?” he teased.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I don’t know what you are working with. But I feel lonely.”
Gentle fingers took my hand and raised it. The lips that kissed and the tongue that laved were not human. I turned my hand to stroke his face but he leaned away.
That stung. I let my hand fall to the bed. “It isn’t fair that you get to touch me but I can’t touch you.”
He didn’t say anything to that. A car drove past and the headlights lit the room for an instant. Long enough for me to see four glittering eyes watching me, two forward facing and two further to the sides. Not human, I reminded myself. In the darkness, a hand cupped my face, thick lips caught mine and as I kissed him a tentacle like tongue licked at my lips before darting briefly down my throat.
“I can do better than that toy,” he promised, “but you can not see me.”
I nodded. Four hands stroking me over my clothes. A mouth kissing and licking at my neck. I was expecting him to peel me out of my clothes, instead his touch was so feathery gentle. Hands cupped my face as he nuzzled my hair. I strained my eyes trying to see him, but I could catch only the faintest outline. Any time I reached out for him he pulled away. Finally, he got frustrated with that and pinned my hands over my head.
I panicked and pulled my hands away and just like that he was gone.
“Nick?”
I don’t know why I was expecting an answer. I groaned and pressed both palms to my face covering my eyes. I jumped when he caressed my calf, but I didn’t move my hands.
“What are you doing, little girl?”
“Damned if I know,” I admitted. “It’s been … I don’t even know anymore… how long have I been stuck in this house? Weeks? Months? None of this seems real anymore. Sometimes I don’t know if I’m real anymore either. I just need … something.”
“Someone,” he whispered.
“Yeah. Someone to make me feel like I’m real. Just to make me feel.”
“Humans need other humans to be human,” he muttered. “You should have just called your friend.”
My eyes prickled again and tears splashed against my hands. “How long have you been here?”
“There was an accident shortly after the house was built. I came because of that.”
That raised a lot of questions, but my immediate one was, “How long have you been here alone?”
“On and off since then. Most people don’t last much more than a month or two. Normally, construction crews are the advance party before they move in. It’s easy enough to get rid of the new owners. You were just too stupid to leave.”
I snorted, “Were you really trying to make me go? Because living here was creepy but not anywhere close to the scariest place I’ve ever lived.”
“My heart wasn’t in it. I need you to finish fixing the place first. Sooner or later someone would have built one of those ridiculous houses on the lot.” He started to massage my calf as he spoke.
“The house is more than a hundred years old. That’s a long time to be alone,” I pointed out.
“Enough time to get good at it,” he countered.
I moved my hands then and sat up to look at him. I thought I could see a pool of shifting darkness. “What are you? Are you a ghost? Did someone die here and -”
“Many people have died here. I am not one of them.”
I thought about that for a moment. “Am I?”
“What?”
“Am I some dead woman who is all alone here making excuses for why I can’t leave?”
He laughed at me then, not a jolly laugh, an odd howling laugh. “How did you come up with that ridiculous idea?”
It stung a little, “It’s a popular plot point in a number of movies. And I can’t help but notice you didn’t answer the question.”
He stopped laughing when he realized I was serious and said flatly, “You aren’t dead.”
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The Rebel/叛逆者: A Review of Sorts
After being only semi-invested in the Rebel, I ended up getting so into it in the final weeks of its release, I’ve shelled out on IQIYI premium just to get the final couple of episodes a few days earlier.
That’s right kids, it’s a Review of Sorts. Unfortunately, I could not find a translation of the novella the drama is based on, so will be looking at it as a separate entity.
Most of this post is spoiler-free, however I have dedicated a few paragraphs at the end of it to discussing the final episode, as there are a few specific things about it I wanted to mention. There is a clear spoiler warning before that part.
If you don’t want to risk it, TL;DR version of this review goes something like this: Rebel is very decent, and positively one of the best things that I have seen to come out of China since I’ve jumped into that particular rabbit hole. It’s pretty well written, it’s very beautifully dressed and shot, and the cast is killing it. I thought it dropped the ball a little in post production, and I did not always love the pacing. Other than that, it’s incredibly decent, and well worth watching, unless communist propaganda really irks you, in which case stay very well away.
I have been having many conversations with @supernovasimplicity all the way through watching this drama, so there are likely to be some thoughts here that are influenced by those.
The story centers around Lin Nansheng, a struggling servicemen in the Guomingdang party. He has a great analytical mind, and absolutely no emotional capacity for his job. He has trouble handling violence, he is impulsive, he cannot speak to his superiors without bursting into tears, and has nothing even remotely resembling a poker face. And that is what makes this drama as enjoyable as it is.
I don’t think Lin Nansheng’s journey would have been nearly as exciting had he started it from a place of competence. He botches up everything he touches because his big brain switches off the moment his emotions kick in. And so, when you see him grow in confidence, learn to control himself, learn to fake his smiles and compliments, you can’t help but feel a strange sense of pride. It also makes Lin Nansheng very likeable as a character for reasons other than Zhu Yilong’s ability to look like a bush baby.
It did take me a while to feel fully engaged with his performance - not because there is anything lacking in it, but just because it’s hard to be truly surprised by his choices after the exposure I have given myself to his work. That said, at about a half-way point I got charmed by him anyway, and there were quite a few scenes that were truly mesmerising. There were scenes where he broke out of the familiar mould of big unguarded eyes and fluttering wet eyelashes, and tried something that was not pretty: every time to a great success. I am hoping to see more of that in his future work.
I really wanted to like the female lead, Zhu Yizhen, but unfortunately both the way she was written and the way she was performed by Tong Yao left me somewhat cold. It did not help of course that the screenplay ended up sidelining her at every turn, leaving her with very little personal agency. She was set up so interestingly, but in the end her sole purpose became being someone for Lin Nansheng to pine over. It is particularly curious from a perspective of meta storytelling: seeing how this is all centered around superiority of communism, which as a whole was, arguably, ahead of its time in the matters of binary gender equality.
The ensemble cast of the drama is stunning. Wang Yang came very close to stealing the show at several points as Chen Moqun, somehow managing to make his rather unlikeable character interesting. I can say the same thing about Zhu Zhu who absolutely shined as Lin Xinjie, showing an incredible range and imagination in her performance.
The overarching story of the show is engaging, with some incredibly suspenseful elements; every narrative arc including a nice progression through it. As spy thrillers go, it was fairly well plotted. You could if you go looking for a few things that did not pay off in a satisfying way (notably, the Chekhov’s cyanide capsule), but you overall the story really was well told for the most of it.
I did, however, feel like the pacing started to fall apart in the last quarter of the drama. Last episode in particular really did feel rushed, not just due to its pace, but also in a way it failed to pay off the final mission in any visible way. There will be more on that in the spoiler section of this post.
Important to note that The Rebel is a show made in Communist China in the year 2021. It does not ideologically side-step from the path that was laid out for it by that fact. Which is to say, it is, undeniably, filled with propaganda. Communists are the good guys, and if you think a good guy (or gal) is not a communist, they probably secretly are. With one exception of a friendly character who is not a communist, and whose fate we actually never find out. Curious, that.
The Rebel is not a kind of a show where censorship-appeasing scenes are shoehorned in. It’s a kind of a show in which the main theme is Sacrifice For the Party.
Aside from the being the moral vector of the show, Mao’s gentle teachings explicitly help get Ling Nansheng out of prolonged depression following his injury, and almost annoyingly, this sat incredibly well with the character, as he was written. Lin Nansheng is conceived as this naive idealist who wants to be on the front line, who needs validation and support of others. His - and I can’t believe I’m saying this - his being disillusioned in his beliefs and choosing to join a party which includes people whom he likes and trusts makes sense. Him finding this one thing that gives him hope and letting it propel him into gaining confidence and competence makes sense.
In many ways, the Rebel is a story of Lin Nansheng’s failure to become an antagonist within the world of the drama.
I have honestly spent this past couple of weeks pondering whether being well written makes political propaganda better or worse, whether the subtlety of it makes it more or less palatable, whether it’s enough, as a viewer, to be aware of it to shrug it off. Ultimately, this is not something I could or should make moral judgements on, but I do believe that it’s possible to acknowledge the fact that propaganda exists in the drama, and still appreciate it for a good piece of television that it is.
That said, I am very well aware that me being kind of okay with it stems entirely from my own removal from the culture this is made in, and I am, perhaps, lucky to even have a choice as to whether I want to engage with a product which is, undoubtably, here to dress political ideology in fancy clothes.
I have, on the other hand, also seen many things in Russian media of the “Annexation of Crimea is Good Actually” variety and those make me feel very unwell, so feeling somewhat at ease with blatant political propaganda in Chinese media makes me the biggest hypocrite.
But, I digress.
Before we go into some specific plot-related things, I would like to mention that the Rebel has this weird dichotomy in which the production is sublime, and the post-production… not so much. The show very well shot. Every element of it sits perfectly together, not a single prop out of place, not a single extra underdressed, not a page of script not put to good use. It’s lit to perfection. It’s scored beautifully. So much of this show is just stunning.
And then… there is post-production.
This is not even about bad CGI (and the CGI is, indeed, bad), it’s just that most of post-production as a whole feels rushed.
Starting with surprisingly imperfect editing, which at times just fails to make the scene flow together. The final line of dialogue would be spoken within a scene, and it would fade to black instantly without a single breath to indicate a full stop. A montage sequence would be created, but every shot within it condensed to a second, making it feel incredibly fast-paced when the effect should be the opposite. There would be a cut away from a speaking character and to the same speaking character from a slightly different angle, making it dynamic without any reason to do so. There are a couple of truly startling jump-cuts.
I did not speed this gif up. This is part of a romantic montage, edited like it’s a goddamn action sequence.
And of course dear old friend slowing down footage shot at 24FPS. Please don’t do this. You think no one notices - but we do.
There are other tell-tale signs of production rushing to the finish line: occasional, but very noticeable ADR glitches, very sloppy job done at sound mixing, which contribute to parts of the show feeling ever so slightly off.
It’s not unforgivable, but it does make me wish the same amount of care and efforts that went into shooting this drama would also go into it after it was all in the can.
Oh, and just because if you know me you know I have a professional fixation on fights, and I am happy to say most action scenes are toe-curlingly delightful. Hot damn those fights are good. I am absolutely in love with the shot below, for example. Placing an actor behind a piece of set so he can exchange places with the stunt double during a one shot is such an old trick, but the execution, timing and camerawork are just... flawless. This is what perfection looks like.
Now we got all that out of the way...
SPOILERS FOR THE SERIES FINALE BELOW
Here’s the thing. I wanted to love the ending and I found that I could not.
The final mission was presented as important, and honestly the scene in which Zhu Yizhen is sending the vital message out as Lin Nansheng holds his ground in hand to hand fight is incredibly dynamic. Party, this is due to the fight itself being incredibly well choreographed, yes, but it’s also where it sits within the narrative, how high the stakes are for everything surrounding it.
But then, the tension all but bleeds out. The Important Message is sent, the fight is won, and we are treated to ten minutes of a very slow car chase, problem of which is not even its speed as much as its placing within the story. As in, by this point both of those operatives have lost their cover, and completed their Very Important Mission. It would be very sad if they died, but their survival does not technically contribute to their cause. Moreover, Zhu Yizhen getting mortally injured in order to protect Lin Nansheng as part of her mission read a little empty when the mission is technically over.
While I personally found Lin Nansheng slow recuperation and his low key ending enjoyable, I think I would have preferred to have seen a more tangible pay-off to all the sacrifices made in the name of “bright communist future”, just a little more justification for every moment of death and despair we witnessed. I would have certainly at the very least preferred to see Wang Shi’an’s death on screen. Considering how many likeable characters martyred themselves on screen, denying us the death of the one antagonist just seemed cruel.
I really did love the ambiguity of the final few scenes however, if we consider the children choir at the end a fantasy. The idea that Lin Nansheng will live out his life in this hope that Zhu Yizhen is still alive, imagining her just outside of his field of vision, his only joy being in this fantasy of her… now, that is incredibly strong. I equally like the idea of rest being promised to him at the end of his journey, and said rest being painful, and slow and unwelcome.
But it felt like as they chose not to to lean into the “sweet” part of the bitter-sweet tone of the ending and we’re unable not commit to the “bitter” part either, so it lands with a splat which is somewhat lacklustre.
---
This concludes my thoughts on the Rebel.
I am more or less out of Zhu Yilong’s filmography to watch, which is probably a good thing at this point. I have just emerged out of several back to back work projects - literally today - and will hopefully once more have time for things I grew to enjoy doing during the lockdown.
Those things, if you have not guessed, include watching Chinese television and writing things about Chinese television.
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