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#case so i had to stand. then nobody would let me off the bus with my big fucking case so hopefully i broke some toes. and THEN in my three
mediapen · 13 days
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this is the worst fucking trip of my life. i spent a week in russia having a massive panic attack every fucking day and THIS is the worst trip of my life
#ive literally never experienced such rude people im gonna snap so fucking bad soon#it’s EVERY DAY if it was a one off it’d be at least a bit better but it’s EVERY TIME I GO ANYWHERE WHAT IS IT ABOUT ME!!!!!!! oh my god#i am so sorry central maybe it’s not you. well it was you but your shitass contagion has spread around the world#I’ve had like six people cut in lines ahead of me people walk so close they push me into walls i just stop dead now it’s the only thing tha#works some guy walked through my arm and WHACKED his arm on my water bottle in my bag and it HURT him i could hear it it’s the highlight of#this entire fucking trip#i have been hit in a cathedral nearly stood on multiple times kids running into me people trying to walk through me ive just lugged my case#onto a bus where these two old cunts with like cabin bag sized cases managed to move to take up SIX SEATS as i got on the bus with my big#case so i had to stand. then nobody would let me off the bus with my big fucking case so hopefully i broke some toes. and THEN in my three#minute walk to this airbnb i am supposed to just get off the planet apparently and also walk in the road because god forbid other people#develop an ounce of brain matter and not walk four abreast on the pavement im fucking over it. fuck off and die you can see me im 5’9#also the bus people im not done with those fucking bus people like they were in the four seats and one of them went to a two seat but the#one on the four stayed on the edge with his case so i couldn’t get past and there were no other case-friendly seats#like it was fucking intentional what level of fuckhead do you have to be to stop someone sitting on a bus absolutely wank#google translate I AM GOING TO FUCKING KILL MYSELF the next time something happens and i will do it for real#dl
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strawbeerossi · 8 months
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Friends Like You
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Pairing: Gender Neutral!Reader x Spencer Reid
Description: After your father relocated to Las Vegas, Nevada, you meet a new face at the school bus stop.
Content/Warnings: Some minor angst with Spencer’s past, bullying mention, some minor violence mentions, Spencer being a little awkward and sweet baby.
Word Count: 1.1K
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New mini series?? Let me know what y’all think!
AN: This should go without saying that it’s an AU where Spencer goes to high school at the appropriate age and not as a preteen! I thought it would be absolutely adorable. I hope you guys like it!
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Spencer Reid never saw a day of peace in his life since he was a child. His father was a piece of shit who abandoned him as a child for his own selfish reasons, leaving a child with the burden of caring for his schizophrenic mother.
While he absolutely loved his mother and would do absolutely anything for her, a child shouldn’t have to be tasked with being a parent. While his friends were outside playing, he was sitting with his mother in bed while listening to her read an assortment of novels and other literature. 
High school was no easier than his early childhood. On top of caring for Diana, he spent most of his time fighting for his life within those hallways. The popular crowd, his peers, even certain teachers contributed to the anguish. There was no winning for him. 
It was a Thursday morning when he was standing at the bus stop, his satchel draped around his slender frame. He had a backpack but after too many times of it being pulled off of him and being hidden or defaced, he chose something he could have around him at all times. Nobody could just pull it off of him without dragging him with it. 
He had to figure that out the hard way.
The autumn air added a chill to the air, the crunching of the dead leaves on the ground signaling someone approaching. Typically he kept his head down to ignore the likes of Marcus Frank, Tyler Simpson, and Luke Halpert; three football guys who had a problem with the quiet, more socially awkward male who liked to fade into the background. Instead of being shoved and greeted with various ugly remarks, there was silence. There was the presence of someone beside him, so he let curiosity get the best of him.
What he saw knocked the wind out of him, even more than a punch to the gut from one of the men he dreaded seeing. 
You had recently moved to Las Vegas, your father getting a new job opportunity. It was an extremely hard move, one that drained you. The loss of close friends, family, as well as losing everything that you absolutely adored doing back home was something difficult. 
Your new house didn’t seem so homely, your neighbors were mostly old people who seemed uptight and had too many issues with the knowledge of a family moving next door. It wasn’t a welcoming city in the slightest so far. School couldn’t be that bad though, right?
Right?
Arriving at the bus stop was about as typical as it was back home, except there was only one person there so far. He was quiet and avoided your gaze, so you already felt like this was a bad start. 
‘Maybe I seem unapproachable?’ You thought to yourself. Some people did say that you suffered from a chronic case of resting bitch face, so maybe that was it? You were pulled out of your thoughts when you felt a pair of eyes on you. As your gaze lifted, it wasn’t long until you were facing Spencer. “Hi.”
Your tone was soft, almost quiet enough where Spencer couldn’t hear you. His face was red as he offered a tight lipped smile. “Hi. I’m- I- uh-” He laughed awkwardly while he rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m Spencer.” He finally broke through his stammering. 
It was charming in a way. He seemed so sweet and shy. You suspected he had a hint of social awkwardness.
“Y/N. It’s nice to meet you, Spencer.” With a hand offered in his direction, he was slowly putting a hand up. “Did you know that our hands carry on average 3,200 different germs belonging to more than 150 species?  Your hands can have anywhere from 100,000 to a few million germs at any given time.” 
The sudden fact had your eyes widening as your gaze fell on the palm of your extended hand. “Are you serious? That’s how many germs lay in our hands? Good lord, no wonder why we are always spreading new diseases.”
The tone of your voice had Spencer letting out a soft giggle as he was reaching in his satchel to retrieve some hand sanitizer. “That’s why I always carry this.” He explained, pumping the disinfectant into his hands before offering some to you as well. 
“What other facts do you have?” You suddenly asked, rubbing the liquid into your hands as you were now staring up at the taller male. Spencer wasn’t used to this. Most people ignored him or they didn’t even look in his direction, much less ask him about the plethora of knowledge and statistics that plagued his brain. 
“Too many to name.” He admitted, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Ask me anything and I bet that I can tell you a statistic or a fact about it.” There was a rush of confidence, Spencer liking the idea of the possibility of having a new friend to listen to him.
“Hmm. Scotland.” You spoke while raising an eyebrow. “Oh! That’s too easy. Did you know that golf was actually invented in Scotland? Scotland is the country with the highest proportion of golf holes per capita in the world. The city of St Andrew’s has 12 golf courses.” He grinned proudly.
“Wow, are you some kind of genius or something?” You asked with a smile. “You could say that.”
This whole conversation was refreshing for Spencer. He’d never had anyone actively want to speak to him before. Most girls looked at him like he was an alien, the males would rather use him as a punching bag than speak to him like civilized people. 
He felt alone a good chunk of his life due to the fact he was.. Different from others. 
You were a rainbow shining boldly after a dreadful, miserable storm.
The school bus had rolled up not too long after though, the screeching breaks and the squeak of the opening doors were probably the most familiar thing you’d experienced. “After you.” Spencer spoke, gesturing to the open doors.
The vehicle was packed, other students scattered from other stops in the neighborhood taking up most of the seats, leaving just a mere few at the front being open. “You wanna sit with me?” You asked, the glasses wearing teenager beside you feeling the burn in his face, neck and ears from his blushing.
Despite his brain trying to give him rational ways to deny sitting with you, he couldn’t bring himself to say no. You were nice. You had a nice laugh and smile. You were safe.
Instead of verbally answering, he was taking the seat closest to the window with a soft smile, which prompted you to match his expression and fall down on the outer area of the seat. 
This was going to be the start of an interesting friendship.
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anguishedlurker · 17 days
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A Twisted Situation
Phic Phight for @bellsandmischief / bellsandmischeif on ao3! Prompt "Board game night! The crazier the combination of characters, the better!"
I physically need you all to know that this just sort of happened in about two and a half hours. I didn't write, I was fucking posessed at 3.4k words. Here it is in Ao3 glory
Sam was gong to kill someone, actually.
Star’s lips peeled back in something that couldn’t be called a smile as she waited for Sam to make the first move, waving the hat menacingly.
“I will start a fight you can’t end. Don’t.”
Star’s eyes narrowed before sense washed over her expression, shaking rage off with a short jerk of the head, proper fake smile bouncing straight into place.
Dammit, Sam needed the excuse to leave. Even if it was in cuffs.
“Nothing?”
“Buy your school charity game night pass or leave. You’re gonna build a line, and I don’t care what your issue is, even if it’s really obvious.”
Sam was probably going to kill Tucker worse than she was going to kill Danny, this time.
Danny was… Danny. If box ghost showed up, then getting ditched wasn’t about her.
But Tucker?
“Not that you asked, but apparently the losers forgot to do their homework and now need to do it last minute.”
Sam was going to kill Tucker for not having a better excuse to ditch.
“They do homework?” Star asked, chipper as she watched carefully.
Case in point….
“That’s what I said.” Sam sighed, finally moving to pull out her wallet.
Stupid damn ghosts wrecking the stupid damn scoreboard and pieces of the football field, making Ishiyama panic to get a budget for fixing it now and not next year.
Begging on her knees to Vlad or Sam’s parents was not ideal, and Sam had to admit that this was a better option.
“You donating extra to add to the community ticket pool?” Star asked, leaning back in the shit chair in disinterest, shaking the hat in a taunt.
“Considering I only have a hundred on me, yes.”
Star’s eyebrows raised at that, but she ultimately didn’t remark on it as she put the hat down to unlock the register and shove the hundred in.
It was definitely a first class problem, but one of these days Sam was going to end up tearing out hair over trying to explain that hundred dollar bills are not appropriate amounts of cash to take to so much as an average middle class outing, let alone a charity event in the school gym.
It didn’t have to be her hair either. Violence on her mother sounded nice far too often.
Star absently tossed down four poker chips right behind a sign reading ‘DONATED EXTRA TICKETS’, and picked the hat back up. The crinkle of the numbered paper bits were a guise for the gods laughing at her, Sam was sure.
“Your move, Sam.”
And yeah, it sure was her move.
~
Group four. Japanese number of death, not that it mattered.
Group four, over on the left side of the gym. Wes and Ishiyama eyed her as she approached.
Nobody spoke as she held her paper piece for viewing.
“You know what, I think dad was right. This isn’t worth it.” Wes informed gravely, moving to stand.
“Sit. It’ll be fine, and you got half in advance.” Ishiyama informed, twice as grave.
“The hell does half in advance mean?” Sam accused, already looking to leave again.
Bite her, this was gonna go badly and she needed out.
“Wes has been hired to take some photo’s to help with paper coverage.” Ishiyama stated mildly, her expression warning that if Sam was anyone else the verbal abuse would be much more severe already.
“Okay. Can I ask why Stevie and-” Sam started, motioning to Wes as she spoke even as she made eye contact with Ishiyama.
“You know the butcher place?” Wes asked, cutting off her solicitation of a scathing remark. Ishiyama’s smile tightened, because Stevie and Logan probably were the original plan. Yet, she remained silent.
Dammit. Just this once, provoke her. Give her the excuse.
Bu yeah, fine. Sure. Whatever.
“The one down on-”
She could play ball. She could totally ace the polite conversation contest she and Wes were definitely having.
“They weren’t inside, technically, but like… it’ll be another week.”
Sam cringed in understanding. Lunch Lady and Skulker had both done their number on the joint.
“Well, everyone knows I don’t miss the place, but… Anyone made a card yet?”
They were an alarmingly destructive pair, and debris is rather dangerous to the average person.
“It’ll probably be the homeroom activity on Monday. Now smile, Manson.” Wes sighed, holding up the camera.
Sam immediately made the ugliest grimace she could, even as Wes scowled at her.
“Don’t give me that. I’m with Ishiyama for tonight, and Ishiyama is is in charge of group four. And like, I want to play! Part of my thing was free admission to play. What’s the point of a fight?”
“It just means I go down with you, idiot. And if I go down, I’d do it swinging anyways.”
“Take a seat and wait for the rest of the group.” Ishiyama finally growled, pointedly not looking at either of them.
~
“Ishiyama. I am begging you with no shame; You know, already, how this won’t work!”
Ishiyama was just as transfixed as Sam was on Paulina’s approach, Wes too distracted with taking photos to know the danger everyone was now in.
Ishiyama finally broke the trance to give Sam the most miserable look she could, right as Paulina looked up or long enough to see who she was heading for.
Wes continued to very narrowly evade losing the social politics required to keep from being punched by Dash over in group six, oblivious.
Paulina carefully looked at Sam, glancing at Ishiyama.
Paulina carefully looked at Ishiyama, glancing at Sam.
Sam grimaced and pointed at Wes, who was rapidly realizing that Dash might actually hit him this time.
Paulina immediately fixated on Wes, wide-eyed.
Wes, making his exit, turned to find out that paulina was staring at him, and Sam had swapped to pointing at Paulina.
Wes was now staring at Sam, and also pointing at Paulina.
Sam very slowly nodded.
Wes turned to Ishiyama, who was refusing to look anyone in the eye.
Paulina turned to look at the gym doors, clearly mentally calculating the danger and not coming to any favorable conclusions.
Before she could simply turn around and walk out however, Jack Fenton came bellowing in.
“Hey-o kiddo! You in group four too?” He asked, not waiting to loop an arm around Paulina and start dragging.
Wes looked like he was dreaming of the nearest breakable window, but there was money on the line. He began the miserable shuffle towards his doom..
Sam moved to stand, stopped by Ishiyama.
“God help us both child, if this has to be my night then it’s going to be yours too.” Ishiyama demanded, breathing just a little too hard.
“You and what blackmail?” Sam challenged.
“The glitter and glue spray bomb on the cheer team a month ago, straight to your parents.” Ishiyama hissed, just low enough Paulina wouldn’t catch it in her rapid forced approach.
Sam contemplated, and sat back down.
If she got Sam that meant she go Danny, and Danny was on some very thin tightropes right now. Tightropes apparently held by her parents monetary support, because even if Sam got punished they’d pull their next donation for being bothered with such lowly activities.
This was fine. This was going to be so fine. Why wouldn’t it be so fine?
~
“The first game, at least before we are free to chose…” Ishiyama started, taking a shuddering breath.
“Is however far we get in monopoly.”
There were multiple monopoly sets donated for this event, and no time limit on playing.
The limiting factor being potential assault charges was not mentioned as Wes clicked his tongue and Ishiyama and Paulina both plastered on smiles for the camera.
Sam was going to hate that tongue click by the end of the night.
“I love monopoly!” Jack sounded off, missing the sheer rage of the other four people tapped here with him.
~
“I…”
The silence of the third doubles in a row was deafening.
“I sit my little piece in the jail, and leave to go take a photo of group two in twister. Yell at me when someone rolls me out.” Wes huffed, borderline slamming the flatscreen TV token onto the board.
It was the second turn.
Ishiyama had made them take the Electronic Banking monopoly set, to hopefully discourage cheating as she now held the little device that could read their fake little cards. Ishiyama herself gave a faintly wistful look as Wes stomped off, likely dreaming of doing the same.
“Six, not a double.” Sam sighed, hauling her little coin case to the Mall Of America. Obviously she bought it.
Paulina glared at her, the purse token sitting innocently on the Saint Louis Arch. Her master plan of getting all of those spots was ruined, truly.
Might even have to buy it from Sam.
“Alright! My Turn! Two, woohoo baby! The airports are like train stations in this one, right? I’m taking it!” Jack hollered, deafening. Paulina cringed as she reassessed her plans yet again, watching Jack take his second roll straight into Sam’s MOA. Small blessings.
“So, Jack. What brings you, but not your wife.” Ishiyama asked mildly after fiddling with the stupid little device to transfer everyone’s money, picking up the dice and rolling.
She got herself another ten, and was sent straight to the parking lot. Where there was no pot to take.
“Oh, Mads is out chasing that box spook and the town menace!”
“Alone?” Paulina asked flatly, picking up the dice. Nine. Straight into a treasure chest, which she seemed pleased by.
She seemed modestly displeased by the card she pulled, but ultimately didn’t do anything as Ishiyama verified if she was supposed to do anything based on it. Clearly not.
“Mads is smart! And we promised we’d do something to help get the school in order, so I’m here!”
Ah, yes. Because they’re about ninety five percent of the reason the turf was ruined.
“Right then.” Ishiyama soothed, giving Paulina a flat look.
Paulina seemed unbothered at least. Ishiyama tossed the dice for Wes and came up with no doubles.
~
“Utilities are always good.” Jack hummed, getting his cards in order.
“What about your son?” Ishiyama asked, passive as ever.
“Hmmm…. Dunno. I don’t think this is his kinda thing, though.”
Sam was suddenly glad Wes wasn’t here, the doubles ever elusive.
By the way Paulina carefully eyed his position at team two, she was in agreement. Just because she thought he was nuts didn’t mean she was unaware the moment his little “theory” breached containment to Danny’s parents was the same moment secen kinds of hell broke loose.
“I see.” Ishiyama offered flatly, taking her question mark card.
~
“There’s no way none of you have rolled me doubles yet.”
“Tell you what, Wes… do you want us to just do a gentlemans agreement that you can come back in? I’m sure our lovely team here wouldn’t be opposed.”
“I… wouldn’t want to impose. And those photos-”
“No, truly. Sam? Jack? Paulie?”
“Really, no trouble at all Wes. It’d be mean to leave you there.”
“Whatever.”
“Oh, sure thing kids! Come on, all in honor of having fun!”
“I… thank. You. Your generosity towards rule breaking is truly touching.”
“No problem.” Ishiyama hummed, faintly pleased with herself about dragging everyone down with her.
~
Jack Fenton was the luckiest man this side of Amity.
Sure, Sam had gotten both green spaces already, but this was…
“That’s the last airport, right?”
“I think we’re done.” Ishiyama decided. Wes didn’t take his face out of his hands, his TV token sitting in jail again.
Jacks face fell.
“Yeahhhh, it’s not fun when one person dominates. I know it’s like, luck, but we’ve also got other games to do.” Paulina absently remarked, examining her nails.
“It’s like you’ve forgotten you hate us. Where’s your fast exit?” Sam taunted.
“Samantha.”
“Haven��t. You’re just more invested than I am. And my brother drove me because my engine blew, so I’m stuck anyways because I’m not taking a ride from any of you.”
Jack seemed to contemplate before making his statement.
“I guess that’s fair. But do you two not really…”
“Worlds most open secret my man, not unlike-”
“Wes. I cannot stress enough that I will simply take the murder charge. Ishiyama is not capable of pulling me off in time.” Sam threatened.
“Principal, are you going to take that!?”
“Yes. Of all the people to antagonize, not him!”
“What?” Jack asked, befuddled.
“Not a problem. Cluedo, anyone? It’s open, now.” Paulina offered, the picture of innocence.
~
Jack really was the saving grace to the whole situation, honestly. Insane luck aside, nobody wanted to pull any social triggers with him around.
Sam because she really didn’t need Danny’s parents to hate her, Ishiyama because Jack was the frontline of a contactable defense in emergencies, Paulina had just mentally checked out, and Wes didn’t want to die by Sam’s hand and Ishiyama’s approval.
“I know I asked about Daniel earlier, but did Jasmine not want to come? Rope, Green, Spa.” Ishiyama prattled off.
Paulina was elbowed not so subtly as the player to the left, pretty much her whole pad at Ishiyama so she didn’t have to ask her to speak again.
“Oh, Jazzy’s out tutoring!”
What? Sam tended to have a pretty good idea of where Jazz was at, given she was backup, and… well...
“I didn’t know Spike was on the tutor list.” Sam prodded.
“Manson, who?” Wes asked, glaring.
“Uhhh. I think it’s Edward? Edward… something. I don’t know what his last name is, actually.”
“Edmund Cox. His parents are like, freaks about Narnia.” Paulina offered, realigning with reality as Ishiyama blatantly cheated off Paulinas notepad in the background.
Nobody said anything for a half beat.
“Why do you know that?” Wes finally bit out.
“Money hides in odd places, and I know many with money.” Paulia said, almost totally tranquil as she gave Sam the stink eye.
She could keep at it, nobody would ever believe her that Sam was rich.
“I dunno that Jazzy tutors any Edmunds… You sure she knows an Edmund?”
Ishiyama cleared her throat, and Wes tossed the dice down to move a few more spaces.
A grand total of two.
“Okay, well, I’m sure Jasmine is helping your son. You know, with his homework.” Wes hissed, trying to kill Sam with his eyes.
“Hell if I know, I’m stuck here with you all.”
Wes deflated as Jack finally made it to the kitchen.
“Green, knife, kitchen!” Jack cheered, pointing at Wes to fork over information.
~
Sam was starting to get the picture of the murder, but something was wrong.
Very wrong.
“You. Scarlett, living room, bat!”
“Nothing! You! Loser! Stop trying to catch me lying!” Paulina screamed, barely restraining herself from throwing the entire notepad at Sam’s skull.
“If he doesn’t have it, and you don’t have it, and SHE doesn’t have it, then who has the god damn-!”
“Peace, children.” Ishiyama warned, clearly not believing that peace would be achieved.
~
“I just find it all odd.” Ishiyama hummed, pressing Jack for answers about Danny.
“Yeah, well… It’s not like he really opens up to us anymore. Me and Mads chalk it up to teenager stuff, but…”
Wes wasn’t even focused on chewing mental glass over the secrets he wasn’t allowed to spill, that’s how fucked up this game of Clue was.
“So we’re just ignoring that nobody can narrow it down to one murderer?” He hissed, inching closer to Ishiyama. “We’re just having a super casual little conversation about the idiots school life?”
Ishiyama finally connected that she was only skating by a shitfit from her captive audience because everyone was in an old western style stalemate, and turned to the board again.
“It is very strange….”
“I give. I fucking give. I give up and I’m looking in the fucking packet and I’m taking the loss.” Paulina ranted, snatching up the little yellow envelope before Ishiyama could protest.
Everyone pretended they weren’t super pissed about it when four cards fell out instead of three.
“We have two murders. Green and Scarlett in the kitchen, with the bat.”
Nobody spoke.
“Well… what’s our next game, then?” Ishiyama asked, slightly strained. Even Jack looked mad at this twist.
~
“Left hand blue.” Wes called, exactly as miserable as the rest of them.
Why twister? Who decided that letting Jack Fenton pick was a good idea?
~
Sam crab shuffled between the apropiate colors for limbs so that her head was closer to Ishiyama’s. Wes gave her an unpleasant look for technically cheating, but remained silent. Taking limb detangling off the option list was lethal.
“Call it.”
“UGH! Right foot green.” Paulina wailed, twisting even worse to make it work.
“You know I can’t. I don’t want to plead with Vlad, and this already isn’t enough. Everyone needs to walk away with perfect opinions so they come to the next one, and how can they do that if the organizer won’t play?”
“What about Vladdie!?” Jack called, getting dangerously close to having to stick his head under Ishiyama’s ass.
“Bullshit.” Sam barked, calling bluff. “Not a damn person would seriously rail at you about it.”
“Yes. They would.”
“Left hand blue.” Paulina called miserably. Jack went stock still as he now had very critical choice about where his center of balance, and thusly his head, was going to start drastically leaning to.
~
“Move, loser!”
“I physically cannot! Get your ass off my back first!”
“Get your thigh off my fucking-”
Jack, having detangled from Ishiyama a bit ago, muttered something about him and his bad decisions.
“Right foot yellow.” Wes informed innocently from the safety of the losers seats, watching as Sam and Paulina tried to break each others spines without falling over.
~
They had a crowd for this lunacy. Wes, so safe and cozy from the chair, was busy imortalizing the event with pictures. Even Ishiyama was openly unamused about her humiliation, trapped under Jack’s massive rear, desperately trying not to get squished by his leg curing back underneath..
Sam didn’t have very appropriate thoughts about the way Paulina was twisted around her, and she really wasn’t trying to be crass about it but god if she could do this in twister then professional level gymnast routines would be a joke for her.
“I think you should like, get tested for joint issues. Before you maybe fuck them up permanently.”
“Suck it, Manson!”
Dash gave an extremely pleased look as the spinner stopped spinning, having taken the damn thing from Wes.
… No.
“Left”
No.
“Hand”
No!!!
“Blue.”
Wes coughed from laughter as all four of them started screaming.
First Ishiyama fell. There was nothing near her that didn’t tangle her worse in Jack’s leg than she already was.
But then Jack, who had to contort into the bridge position just to make it to a blue circle, got a short stocky principal to the leg.
The carnage was immense. You couldn’t see Ishiyama’s head underneath Jack’s ass.
But then, Sam.
Second place wasn’t too bad, she decided as her wrist gave. It just couldn’t do it anymore.
And Paulina, tangled around Sam like she was, came down with her.
Yeowch…
The whole gym cheered, reveling in the chaos.
Paulina stared at the ceiling from beside Sam, expression unintelligable.
“I’m done.” Was all she said, unmoving.
Which, fucking same.
Wes laughed even harder, taking photos of Jack rolling off Ishiyama.
“You can’t stop us from leaving, anymore, Ishiyama. This was it. Nothing can keep me here anymore.” Sam declared, doing her best to detangle from Paulina’s limbs.
“I, too, yield. It was fun while it lasted.” Ishiyama wheezed.
“No. It wasn’t.”
“I think I should go check on Mads and the kids.” Jack decided, not moving from his side despite the declaration.
Wes was still too buy laughing as Sam did a four legged crawl off the twister board.
“You need a ride, kiddo?” Jack offered, still unmoving.
“Absolutely not.”
“I do.” Paulina decided.
But Sam was already heading for the door, trying to erase the whole night from her memories.
Tucker would never let this die once the news broke. Which meant she’d have to kill him even harder than before.
Still, that was a job for tomorrow. Right now? She sword to herself the entire school would burn before she could be coaxed into another charity game night.
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clanofjones · 10 months
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Ghosts of Our Days: Chapter Ten
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<- Previous
Next ->
Ao3 (working on updating from the shutdown)
Cowritten with @theosb0rnway!
Chapter Ten: Sleep is Not Listed in the Plan of Casey Jones
Casey's POV
It took several more hours and the police on the ground below them for Raph to get Casey off the rooftop and guide his ass back to the apartment. Of course, his first stop once inside was the ice box, but with his newest discovery, it felt strange. Which Raph should he kiss now? ‘Cause he could totally kiss both. 
Both sounded good. Both was good. 
Unfortunately for him, Raph had other plans, which included pushing Casey away from the ice box and onto the couch before asking him gently to lie down. 
"No." 
Raph's POV
"Casey, please-" 
"I WANT THE ICE BOX." 
"I'm right here, Case, you've got me-" 
"I want the FUCKIN' ICE BOX, GODDAMNIT!" A fresh wave of tears down his face reminded Raph of the now very unrecognizable paint job he'd done on Casey's face. It needed to come off for his safety, whether he liked it or not. 
"Ya' need to at least take that shit off." 
"What?" 
"If ya' won't sleep like a normal person, at least just wash the paint off in the sink." Casey looked mortified. 
"No way in HELL am I taking thi' off!!" 
"Your face is gonna get worse if you don't!" 
"DO I LOOK LIKE I CARE 'BOUT MY FACE? ALL I CARE ABOUT IS YOU!!" More tears, falling down his face like a waterfall, making things worse just like Raph feared, but he had a solution. 
"I've been teachin' myself to hold things while you were gone." 
"What?" That was really Casey's favorite word that morning. 
"I'm learnin' how to touch and hold things, Case. I can hold a brush now for like, a minute, if I really try." Casey looked hopeful, his eyes bright and his paint crinkling into a smile. 
"YOU CAN DO PAINT AGAIN?!?" 
"Yeah, babe, I can do paint again!" 
"THEN WE NEED TO GO BUY SOME! I've got money I stole from the Foot punks! LOTS OF IT!" 
That was great and all, but Casey needed sleep before he went out on another adventure into the city. He'd just gotten home after hours of crying on a rooftop! Raph was surprised that he even had any more tears in him, let alone energy, but that's just the benefit of Casey Jones: unlimited energy and lots of repressed emotional trauma. 
"No, Case. Not right now." 
His smile faltered. "Why not?" 
"You need to wash the paint off and sleep. No buts." 
"Bu-" Raph cut Casey off with a hard stare. "FINE. But I'm not sleepin' on the couch and no way in hell am I showin' my face, so you get the mask tonight." 
Raph sighed. "I don't care what I get as long as you're healthy and safe. You know that, right?" Casey knew that extremely well, but would he admit that out loud? No way in hell. 
"Whatever." 
"Case." 
"I said whatever." 
"Casey!" 
"FINE! I know. Just leave me 'lone! Now, I gotta go take this thing off. Thanks lot." 
He did not sound thrilled in the slightest, so Raph got up and walked over to the window in the opposite corner of the apartment, as far away from the sink that Casey had limped to. He heard the sound of water running and Casey's many creative curses, so he was clearly doing what Raph asked. Yeah, he felt bad for making Casey take the paint off, but it wasn't healthy for his body and Raph could try again! 
For now, he'd make Casey buy cream at the store to keep his face nice, and then once he looked better, he could take off the mask and don his signature paint all he wanted. Casey came back a few minutes later, standing by Raph with his mask firmly on his face. 
"Better?" He snarked. 
"Yeah, much better. Now my boyfriend doesn't have crusty shit all over his face." 
"Hey, that was YOUR 'crusty shit', asshole, I was wearing it for YOU!" 
"Well, don't. You're gonna get acne and nobody fucking wants that." 
"All I want is you next to me and that ugly, horny motherfucker DEAD." 
Raph couldn’t keep himself from laughing. "Hah! You said horny!" 
"Shut up, peabrain!" 
"Crustface!" 
"'Least I got a face!" 
"Douchebag!" 
"Asshole!" 
"Love you." 
There was a moment of pause. "...Love ya too, Raphie. I really do." 
"I know." He leaned his head against Casey's mask, trying to keep it so he didn't fall and go right through Casey's body. "Now go the fuck to bed or I'll find a way to unplug that damn freezer." 
He could see Casey's horrified expression even with the mask on. "You WOULDN'T!"
"Oh, I would. Bed. Now." 
Casey's POV
"God, you sound like Leo. Whatever you say, Raphie." He muttered sarcastically, stalking over to the freezer, kissing Raph's slowly decaying corpse goodnight, and crawling on top of it, curling into his usual position. 
After weeks of adapting, his body was finally getting used to the temperature and texture of sleeping on cold, hard metal. Casey didn't care what Raph said, he was still going to do things his way. He needed that security, that sense of normalcy. Especially after finding out that his dead boyfriend is now a ghost that only he can see. What a day. 
Five Months Earlier 
Casey Jones just needed a break. Between not trying to flunk classes, daily hockey practice, vigilante patrol, and the problem that was Arnold Jones, he was just about ready to crash on his couch and call it a day. 
Provided that the couch wasn't occupied by said problem Arnold Jones, which it most likely was. Before he could get home, however, his T-Phone started to ring. If it was anyone other than Raph, he would've smashed the phone on the sidewalk and run over it with his Heelys. 
"Hey, Raphie..." 
"Case! You okay? You don't sound so hot." For once, Raph seemed to be in a good mood. 
"I'm always hot, Raphie, I'm just tired." 
Raph rolled his eyes, letting out a soft groan. "Not too tired for jokes?" 
"That's all I've got for today." 
"Uh-huh. Sure. Anyways, I wondered, since today's a slow day, if you wanted to come over and watch Space Heroes with me?" 
That was an offer Casey Jones couldn't refuse. He was at the lair in three minutes, tossing his shut aside and practically running towards the couch where Raphael was waiting for him. ,
"Woah! Slow down, Casey, I'm not goin' anywhere!" 
"Missed... my boyfriend..." Casey mumbled into Raph's shoulder. 
The turtle softened. "Missed ya too, Case." 
And for a while, they sat there, filling their brains with mind-numbing cartoons until Raph seemed to feel that Casey was asleep, or at least relaxed enough that he felt asleep. Turning off the TV, Raph picked Casey up bridal style and carried him to their shared room, setting him down on the bed as softly as possible. 
As it happened, Casey Jones was not asleep, in fact, he was far from it. It wasn’t often that he let himself take trips into his mind, preferring not to think too deeply most of the time cause it was just too much work. It also meant thinking about topics that he was scared about, like his father, his mother, and his own identity. 
The last one was the thought currently eating away at his remaining brain cells, the one he wished would just go away. It all started with Angel's tea parties.
His little sister, ever the perfectionist, insisted that everyone who participated in her tea parties had to wear a skirt or a dress. She wasn’t picky about which. Casey didn't mind that at all, in fact, the part that scared him most was that he liked it.
He liked dressing up like a girl, acting like a girl, being a girl. Casey Jones was a boy, he knew that he'd always been a boy and that was fine by him, but he'd recently discovered that maybe he was okay being a girl too. 
So, at night, in the comfort of his room, when Arnold was fast asleep in front of the TV, he put on that tea party skirt and called himself she instead of he, and as stupid as he felt, he loved it. Casey Jones loved being a girl. 
He was obviously scared to tell Raph given that Raph was Raph. Tough, manly, acted like he was too good for Angel's tea parties even though he secretly loved them. 
Not that Casey knew that part. Raph was his boyfriend, but even mutant turtles living in the New York Sewers could judge things. He figured he might as well try, and if it went south he could ignore his feelings, bottle them up again, and be the completely normal, trauma-free Casey Jones! 
Right? Yeah, that would have to do. 
"Hey, Raphie?" Raph jumped, not realizing Casey was still awake. 
"Holy SHIT, Case! You almost gave me a heart attack!" 
"Some ninja you are." 
"Shut up." Casey went quiet. 
"Raph? 
"Yeah, Case?" "Can I tell you somethin'?" 
"Sure."
Casey paused for a minute, then shook his head. "Wait..I...Um... never mind." 
Raph's brow furrowed, and he put a hand on the back of his boyfriend's head, stroking his hair softly. "You sure?" 
It was killing him, he couldn't keep it in any longer. Raph would still love him, right? Casey took a deep breath in, and blurted out: "I wanna be your boyfriend but I wanna be your girlfriend too!!" 
Raph's POV
Raph blinked, trying to process what he heard. 
"You wanna be my boyfriend and my girlfriend?" 
"Yeah..." 
"So... are you a girl now too?" He asked curiously, not wanting to upset his lover. Casey looked terrified and Raph could feel him shaking the entire bed from nervousness. 
"Yeah..." He nodded. 
Raph smiled, placing a kiss on his girlfriend's head. "That's pretty cool, Case." 
Casey was shocked, to say the least. "Really? You're.... you're not mad?" 
"Why would I be mad? Now I have a girlfriend and a boyfriend all in one person! That's awesome!" 
Casey felt like she was about to explode from the happiness, kicking her legs and letting out a loud cackle. "YES!" 
"So.... are you... still Casey, or-" 
"Yup! Still good ol' Casey Jones! But now I'm a girl too!" 
"So do I... call you a boy, or, um... how do I-" 
"You can call me a boy, girl, he, she, whatever! Just don't call me late for hockey practice!" 
Raphael could now state with confidence that he had the most annoying boyfriend and girlfriend on the entire planet. 
"So, do you wanna tell anyone else or just... keep it between us?" 
Casey thought it over for a minute. "Ya think your brothers are gonna be like you were?" 
"They should. We're mutant turtles, we're used to people reacting to us weird. But ya know Donnie will probably tease you 'bout it." 
"Eh. I don't care what he does, he's pretty wimpy at insults. Nothin' like you, babe!" 
Raph chuckled, remembering all the times in battle that he'd thrown some killer insult, and heard Casey laugh in the distance. At least somebody liked his jabs! "Thanks, Case. Ya know I love ya, right?" 
"You gettin' soft on me, Raphie?" 
"Only for my girl." Casey blushed bright red, biting his lip and burying her head in Raph's shoulder. 
"FUCK, why does that feel so nice-" 
"Now who's gettin' soft?" 
"Shut up, douchebag, I didn't know bein' a girl would be this nice!" 
"But it feels good?" He sure didn't get it, but if it made Casey happy, then he would do whatever it took to make sure she stayed that way. "It feels AWESOME. Like, like there's been a part of me missing for years and you just gave it to me with one fuckin' WORD." 
That's what it felt like to Casey? Raph calling him a girl was that important? He'd never felt like a part of him was missing after he found Casey, Casey was the missing piece, as corny as that sounded to him. He would ask her more questions later, but for now, he was going to enjoy this time alone with his lover before the Foot attacked again or some random goon tried to threaten the city. They both deserved a well-earned break and a nice cuddle session after everything they'd been through together. 
Not that the aforementioned cuddle session could lay to rest Raph’s own thoughts and worries. Moments of levity, whenever he, Casey, and the others weren’t facing mortal danger in one way or another, were few and far between, which made relaxing a feat only achievable by someone like Mikey, who Raph was sure was down a brain cell or two or ten. 
Casey, for all her virtues, contrary to what Donnie seemed to be holding fast to, didn’t really relax anymore, and Raph had noticed.
Between school, patrolling, spending time with Raph, hockey, staying an active figure in her sister’s life, maintaining enough energy to deal with his dad, and probably devoting some time to thinking extensively about the whole gender thing, sleep, and relaxation were both about as frequent as a blue moon. 
Which was probably why the vigilante was out in record time, snoring lightly as all the tension finally left his body in the way only sleep could do. If Raph held him a little tighter, it's not like anyone could prove it – not even Donnie.
The temperature of the lair was never really finite and pretty dependent on the temperature topside, and as they had quickly figured out, thermostats hadn’t been super high on Donnie’s list of fixes since the Kraang and the Foot had taken notice of them.
Because of that, Raph curled in a little closer, running a three-fingered hand through Casey’s hair. It was a little difficult, given how tall Casey was (and no, dickwad, Raph wasn’t short, everyone else except for Mikey and Leo was unfairly tall as fuck), but he managed, inching up so their heads were level with each other. It was also a useful position if Casey leveled a kick at him because then Raph was in a position to kick back as a gag reflex. 
“G’night, Case,” he whispered, and Casey nuzzled in a little closer, and Raph felt her breath hitch against him momentarily before leveling out. 
By now, he’d long perfected the art of sneaking Casey back into his room, sometimes seeing his little sister, and the little squirt would always promise not to breathe a word of it to anybody else, least of all their father.
Most importantly, he was able to sneak Casey into her room without waking said lover, which really was the kicker, given that most days, when Casey was without his corpse paint, he looked metaphorically dead on his feet. This effect was especially heightened on the days when he had his corpse paint, the poor girl actually looking dead on his feet. 
He kept a careful eye on a small radio with an analog clock, the numbers flicking to the early, ungodly hours of the morning, the sweet spot where that god-awful douchebag Arnold Jones would be asleep, or at least so far gone that he likely wouldn’t register a ninja sneaking his son in through the window. And if he did, then there was a good chance it wouldn’t occur to him to inspect the room until Raph was long gone. Of course, there was a minuscule chance that Arnold would catch them, and in that case, Raph and Casey would snatch up Angel and get the hell out of there. If Arnold Jones had a few broken bones to speak of – that was, assuming he’d be able to speak – then it wouldn't be Raph, Casey, or Angel’s problem. 
Raph blinked the lingering thoughts away, despite how much he wanted to let the thoughts persist. 
Performing the difficult task of situating Casey in his arms without waking him, he peered over his girlfriend as he made his way to an exit. 
Jumping across roofs with minimal difficulty, Raph picked out the Jones apartment. Honestly, the place looked like shit, but according to Casey, it had always looked like that.
As Raph touched down on his target roof, he slowed as a particularly hard draft of wind blew in their faces. They had figured out early in the game that the two combined forces would sometimes wake Casey, and Raph believed that Casey deserved any and all of the limited sleep she could get. 
He took them down the rickety stairs that lead into a small balcony, and balanced himself on the railing, finding his center of gravity, before he leaped onto a window ledge, which had been graciously left ajar. Raph ducked into the room and dumped his partner on the bed in one corner of the room. 
“Sleep tight, Case.” The vigilante let out an odd snoring noise like someone had plugged his nose in the middle of the process so that it sounded more like a ‘snurf’ than anything else. 
Raph helped himself to a brief snort at the sound, and for a second, let himself just exist there. 
He took in Casey’s room – the numerous hockey posters and equipment littered around the walls, a mess of school textbooks that spilled out of a broken school bag, a spinny chair in front of a desk that held the remnants of a rotting meal composed of something that smelled fit for an actual turtle. Raph couldn’t help the scrunching of his face that accompanied the aroma of it. 
Raph took the largest blanket from an asymmetrical pile adjacent to the foot of Casey’s bed and brought it over her. 
“You’d be a mess without me, Jones,” Raph muttered as he turned back to the window, allowing a genuine smile to cross his face before closing it behind him and leaping from the railing into the night.
.
.
.
.
A/N: Plan 10, bitches!! If you're going to tell me that Casey was being cis at ALL in that episode, then we're gonna have some problems /j
I feel you, Casey, gender's hard.
But yeah, this chapter was really fun to write! Oz and I hope you enjoyed!
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jingerhead · 2 years
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Hi idk if you’re accepting prompts but if you are would you write something with the concept of Cassandra!Andrew? Like Andrew being cursed like Cassandra of Troy to see the future but no one believing his warnings?
Oh my god this concept just makes me want to sob. Like, imagine Andrew knowing about Neil being taken, trying to warn him, and Neil the stupid martyr that he is just tries to play it cool so that Andrew isn’t getting involved. Andrew knowing about EVERYTHING before it comes to pass? The ANGST POTENTIAL? I had to write just a little something for this, I hope you enjoy it anon oh my god.
This is just such a good concept I love it, you don’t have to restrict it in canon either - we could jump to something like fantasy!!! (my favorite I’m sorry but also not) We need more 'Andrew reading the future' fics I need them JSJS
~*~
Most of the visions Andrew had came at the worst of times. Case in point: it was time to get back on the bus to Binghamton, and he could feel a headache coming on already. He didn’t focus on the fact that Kevin had wandered off to talk to Dan and instead headed towards the back, where he could work through the upcoming vision in peace. He sat down on the cushioned bench and crossed his arms, the headache growing more painful with each passing second, until his vision went white.
The first thing that Andrew saw was himself on the court. He was watching the game unfold across the field, the large clock ticking down in the second half. It didn’t last long, suddenly shifting to the team heading towards the locker rooms in good spirits, the rush of noise something Andrew didn’t pay attention to as he looked around, as though searching. He didn’t find what he was looking for by the time the vision shifted, melting into a different hallway, one where Andrew was staring at Neil.
The look on Neil’s face was something almost indescribable. A strange relaxation despite the clear tension in his jaw, the way his eyebrows were drawn up as though in sadness or pain, and the glossiness in his dark blue eyes. But the thing that caught Andrew off guard the most was the smile Neil was wearing - he could count on two hands the number of times he remembered Neil smiling as though he couldn’t help it, like he was genuinely happy and the upwards turn of his lips showed it. This wasn’t one of those times. This smile was different.
Then, Neil opened his mouth. “Thank you,” he said, voice quiet but not a whisper. “You were amazing.”
The vision shifted again. This time, Andrew found himself standing in a rioting crowd, unable to duck in time to avoid an elbow tossed back towards his face. He barely felt the sharp stab of pain.
And then it shifted again, only this time Andrew was running through a mostly empty parking lot, looking around frantically. He spotted some orange towards his right, so he ran to it, freezing when he saw it was a duffle bag and exy racket. One Andrew knew could only belong to one person. He knelt down and looked at it: at the way it had been dropped on its side to display the ‘JOSTEN: 10’ towards the darkened sky. Neil never went anywhere without his duffle bag. He wouldn’t have left it behind if his life depended on it.
Andrew stood up and looked around one last time, still holding onto the long strap attached to the duffle. “Neil!” he screamed into the empty parking lot.
Very suddenly, Andrew was back in the present moment, headache fading away. He blinked a few times, heart pounding as though he’d actually been running. Every single one of Andrew’s visions came to pass eventually, even if nobody else believed them. This would be no different, and like the other times, Andrew was being warned. Something bad was going to happen tonight, something that would make Neil leave behind his duffle bag and force Andrew to run around the parking lot shouting for him.
“Andrew?”
If he was anyone else, Andrew probably would’ve jumped. Instead, he just let his breath go and looked up to see Neil leaning over the back of the seat in front of his, arms crossed and staring. There seemed to be a hint of concern in his eyes, though this wasn’t the first time Neil had caught him mid-vision.
Instead of playing it cool, like Andrew had been doing ever since he realized nobody would ever, ever believe his words, Andrew sat up straighter. If there was ever the outlier, Neil Josten had proved himself that he would be it. “Listen,” Andrew hissed, making sure to keep his voice quiet. “Something is going to happen tonight.”
Neil nodded. “Okay?”
“After the game, there will be a riot,” Andrew continued. “Stay close to me.”
For a brief second, Andrew thought a spark of understanding flashed through Neil’s eyes. He tricked himself into thinking that Neil was going to believe him, and was going to say ‘yes’ like he had been doing. But instead, Neil seemed to close himself off. “How do you know that?” he asked.
“Don’t deflect,” Andrew said. Neil would take the chance to deflect every second he could, even if the question was warranted at the moment. 
“Did you see something?” Neil pushed.
“Yes,” Andrew said, enjoying the flash of surprise that went through Neil’s eyes. “People are going to get hurt and go missing. It’ll be a handful enough keeping track of Kevin.”
“Just keep track of him,” Neil said, completely nonchalant. 
“Don’t make me go looking for you,” Andrew said. It was almost a plea.
“Then let me go,” Neil replied, like it was easy. To someone who didn’t know the future, it probably was. “Stand with me, but don’t fight for me. Let me learn to fight for myself.”
The immediate answer Andrew had was a resounding ‘no’. Not after what he’d seen, and especially not with Neil Josten. Though he didn’t have the details, it was clear that Neil did, and he wasn’t going to do any fighting at all. He was being his typical, suicidal martyr self.
Should Andrew have expected anything different?
“Give me a reason to think you’re capable,” Andrew said.
“You wouldn’t have let me watch over Kevin if you didn’t think that I was.”
“You didn’t watch,” Andrew hissed. “You let yourself be bait. You’re the martyr no one asked for or wanted.”
Neil didn’t seem bothered. Andrew really wished he would be. “Maybe I’m tired of being the bait,” Neil said, voice like a rumble to match the engine of the bus. “Maybe I’m being the martyr again. Only one way to find out, right?”
Andrew felt like he was trying to swallow razor blades. “You’ll regret it,” he warned, the image of Neil’s abandoned duffle bag flashing through his eyes like a reminder.
“Maybe,” Neil said again. Andrew was really starting to hate that word and the face Neil made when he stared. “Maybe not.”
Shoulders slumping, Andrew turned to look out the window and attempted to relax against his seat. Once again, the curse was reminding him just why he only let the future pass instead of trying to interfere with it. “Don’t come crying to me when someone breaks your face.”
“Thank you.”
A spike was driven through Andrew’s chest. He wondered how many hours it would be before he heard those words again.
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The Muddled Palms of Our Hands || Byrne || Trial 4-5 || RE: Jae-min, Kenshin, KOKONE
In truth, Byrne hadn't planned on saying a thing from here on. Defending one felt like condemning the others, and none of the options were ones he wanted to reckon with. There were times he figured he needed to just... stand down, and spend the rest of his time preparing to mourn. To lose another. And that stung. There'd yet to be a single case where he'd been let off woundless, and it seemed that trend would more or less continue, wouldn't it?
He... really hadn't planned on saying a thing. He really hadn't.
Byrne winced as his name was invoked.
"My guy, first you say that no defense I can give is worth anything because of my bias, and then you ask me to fucking throw my boyfriend under the bus two fuckin' sentences later? Do you not even have an OUNCE of sympathy for any of the four of us right now? Give me a fucking break! Besides, don't YOU live in a house? Doesn't EVERYONE here live in a house? It's not fucking weird for anyone here to have a key!"
He wheezed, clearly struggling. He wasn't NEARLY as enraged as he'd been only a day before, but that didn't mean he couldn't get upset. Not when he felt like he was being put into an INCREDIBLY unfair position on all sides, and... And it wasn't even like... Ugh. He pressed a hand to his forehead and reached into his pocket, pulling out a keyring only to stop partway, as Kenshin spoke in his stead. Byrne's own keys slid back into his pocket as he swallowed, listening to the lament.
Byrne lowered his voice.
"I already know nobody's gonna trust it so thanks for point that out but... Kenshin never wakes up earlier than 8 pretty much ever. Most of the time is more like 10 or 11, even, and... That didn't change during the motive. And before you can say he did prep last night, he was too busy taking care of my wasted ass having a mental breakdown and dragging me back to the room when  I was trying to get drunk enough to pass out outside and evade the 'sleep in your own dorm' rule. He had his hands full."
... He sighed. He hadn't had the chance to have a proper conversation with his memories returned to him yet. That was just another little box to add to the to-do list. It felt like it kept growing, with increasingly little time to actually tick the boxes.
... The problem was he didn't exactly have a logically sound argument to protect END or KOKONE here other than another 'They would never.' Which as established, was flimsy as hell. He let out a shaken breath, flashing both an apologetic look. But he would never accuse them, either. This was the best he could manage in his upset.
Listening to KOKONE, however, it was almost like a verbal gut punch of a different variety. Was... Byrne making them feel that way? ... Had he not... expressed enough appreciation? Was his insistence on calling them KOKONE a problem, actually? He stared at the ground.
"... I never disliked you. If I did, I wouldn't've... Spent as long talking to you as I did yesterday, and... Just because you were different didn't make you any less of a friend to me, y'know? Having gotten to know the both of you a little bit, I think I can... solidly say I like both. But... ahah... That's... That doesn't sound like you, y'know? ... Dunno if you remember it? How we talked about... How we'd both fuckin' live, for the sake of other people if not for ourselves? Back in the petting zoo? ... You'd said you wouldn't murder anybody ever back then, and I still wanna believe that."
He swallowed. Oh how he desperate he was to want to believe neither of them to have done a thing.
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pillage-and-lute · 3 years
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Why Public Transport Should be Funded
Nobody wants to sit next to a Witcher on the bus. Geralt had just spent a long day trapping Drowners in the city sewer main and humanely transporting them to a mythical wildlife sanctuary park on the edge of town. Normally, he would have just driven the company truck back to Vesemir and Sons’ Witcher ™ Pest Control, which was a old, well-renovated, brick building with apartments above it, where the witchers lived. Today, though, the truck had managed to blow three of its four tires, so Geralt called the tow truck and took the bus.
The bus was full, people jostled together and standing in the aisles, clinging to railings. Despite this, they gave Geralt his space. He stood, head down, next to the rear doors, beside the space left for those with bicycles or large luggage. A group of college kids got on, chattering happily. Geralt recognized the lioness on one’s baseball cap. Cintra U, then. No wonder, they were all talking about the big rivalry football game against Nilfgaard College. 
At the next stop Geralt saw a young man through the window. He was holding several large cases and stopped, a desolate look on his face as the bus started to pull away before he could get there. 
Geralt pulled the Stop Requested rope, which made a pleasant ding. 
“Gotta keep on schedule,” yelled the bus driver from the front.
Geralt stepped a little to the side, so that the driver would be able to see him in the rearview mirror, witcher swords (peace tied as required by law) and all. He pulled the stop rope a few more times, more insistently. 
Enhanced ears picked up the sigh as the driver stopped the bus and let the bedraggled young man on. He entered from the rear doors, shouting a cheery,
“Thank you so much!” Up to the driver.
He was carrying three instrument cases and a large backpack. Geralt jerked his head meaningfully at the college kids and they made a space for the man to put his luggage. 
Now that Geralt could see him better, he realized that man was perhaps not the best description. Oh, he certainly wasn’t a boy, he was at least twenty-five, if you went by his face, but if you went by his slightly pointed ears he wasn’t even human, and was likely a lot older than he looked.
The half elf scooped brown hair from his eyes with one hand, pulling it back to air it out as he panted, sweating. A drop of it ran down a pleasingly rounded cheek. 
“That damn bus driver has never waited for me before,” he panted. “Wonder who I have to thank for it.”
“Mmh,” Geralt said, non-committaly. Half elves were generally on the finer side of bone structure, but this one was pretty and had a pleasing solidness to his frame. The stranger seemed to be waiting on a response, though, so Geralt said, “Do you make a habit of being late?”
The half elf laughed. It was a good sound, nice and rounded with a delightfully hideous snort at the end. “Pretty much,” he said. “I do music therapy at the CBSS, and it gets done five minutes before the bus comes, but I can never pack up in time. 
The CBSS, better known as the Center for Beings of Smaller Sizes, hosted events that catered to gnomes, pixies, brownies and goblins, all of which were too small to easily attend community events with larger folk. Geralt had been in once to teach a class on unicorn-proofing. Most of the participants had been under six inches, high, but they had happily provided Geralt with a human-sized chair.
“So is it you I have to thank for not having to walk home?” The half elf said, canting his hips a little and slinking a step closer. Despite what Geralt’s brothers said, he could recognize flirting if it hit him in the face, and the musician in front of him was practically beating him with the flirtation stick.
“Just pulled the stop rope,” Geralt grunted, decidedly not looking at the way the half elf’s lashes fluttered along his cheeks. He wished he weren’t still wearing his black coveralls.
The bus jolted to a stop and the half elf, hands full with the smallest of his instrument cases, went hurtling forward. Geralt scruffed him like a kitten, grabbing the back of his hoodie and pulling him safely back. 
And right into Geralt’s chest. The musician grinned up at him, tilting his head back onto Geralt’s shoulder and looking like the cat who’d got the cream, the butter, and the lamb roast too. 
“Normally I make people buy me dinner first, but since you’re saving me from a dreadful fate,” He licked his lips and basically purred. “I’ll allow it.” He traced the silver wolf’s head logo on Geralt’s coveralls.
“A witcher, huh?”
Geralt nodded, much too focused on the way the musician’s eyes crinkled at the corners.
“Smelling of death and destiny,” the musician said. “Heartbreak and heroics.”
“It’s sewage,” Geralt said, deadpan, just to hear that wonderful laugh again. He’d in fact changed into clean coveralls before driving out to the sanctuary. The half elf grinned at him again, but began gathering his luggage back into his arms and rummaging in his backpack. He scrawled something in sparkly gel pen on the back of Geralt’s hand. 
“This is my stop, Hero,” he said. “But if ya maybe want to take me out to dinner sometime, there’s my number.” 
The pretty musician hopped off the bus and Geralt heard him shout “I’m Jaskier, by the way!” just as the doors slid shut with a pneumatic hiss.
Geralt rode the rest of the way back to Vesemir and Sons’ with his head in a fuzzy pink cloud. On the back of his hand the phone number glittered. Maybe, just maybe, he’d try a phone call. 
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mysmegrace · 3 years
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can i please request rfa with mc who has constant stomach , head and back pain thanks to stress / anxiety please ?
of course~ i'm kinda going through something similar ha... classes are scheduled to start again soon and my anxiety always spikes worse than it does regularly.
RFA with an MC who has Constant Stomach, Head, and Back Pain Due to Anxiety/Stress
---
yoosung kim:
your entire day had been a nightmare.
from participating in classes and working a part time job, you were worn out.
honestly, you felt quite sick.
you hadn’t noticed how much your body was aching until you had finally arrived home.
aiming for your bed, you wasted no time in unpacking before landing straight into your pillows.
the stress and anxiety the day gave you has now left you barely awake, small groans of pain leaving your mouth.
some higher power had given you the gift of sleep for no more than an hour before you were awoken by a phone call.
of course saeyoung would mess with you after he’d seen you on the cctvs walking home exhausted.
yet to your shock, it was yoosung.
you could’ve sworn he told you earlier that he had to study this hour.
quickly composing yourself the best you could, you answered to be greeted with a whined hi.
“hi yoosung” you responded, thinking you had masked your tired state well enough.
but you had always been a poor actor after all.
he paused, before asking “are you okay?”
in this state, you couldn’t be bothered to lie to him, getting into some kind of debate over your wellbeing.
“i’m just... exhausted. my entire body is aching” you admitted.
hearing a small sigh through the other end of the phone, you were about say your goodbyes for the night before he responded, “how come princess”.
his tone matched your upset one, yet with a hint of sympathy added on.
you sighed, responding “i’ve had an exhausting day, it’s taken a tole on me”.
he had to stop, thinking of the best ways to comfort you.
after a few seconds of no response, you continued “sorry yoosung, but i just want to rest right now”.
quickly, he snapped out of his thought process, not realizing the silence he had been giving you.
“that’s alright, please sleep well” he said, before hearing the sound of you hanging up the phone.
once you had come to your senses the following day, you noticed something was off.
french toast wasn’t something that spread in the air often in your apartment.
yet your suspicions were cut short as yoosung came around the corner, noticing your awakened state.
shocked, you began to sit up before being pushed back down, completely caught off guard.
“no work for you today lady, you just rest” he said, before running back out to the kitchen, bringing back a plate of french toast seconds later.
you couldn’t help but smile, yet a question popped up in your mind.
“wait, how am i going to eat this if i can’t sit up” you asked.
“easy, i’ll feed you”, problem solved.
hyun ryu / zen:
boarding the bus with zen, the first thing that caught your attention was the sheer compacity inside.
you two were only planning to take the bus 10 minutes to a new cafe that opened in town.
it was the perfect day to do so.
you and zen had off work, the weather was great, and it wasn’t predicted to be busy.
taking hold of the first railing you could find, keeping zen’s hand in your grip, you couldn’t help but to start getting overwhelmed.
there were so many people looking at you as you got on, and now you were stuck between a bunch of strangers looking you up and down with nothing else to do.
you felt your stomach start to turn, you knew this feeling well.
if you didn’t get off soon, you’d be sick and start crying with everything going on.
8 minutes in, you couldn’t take it anymore.
you had tried to get through by zoning out and thinking about other things, yet nothing was in your favour.
you were terrified, and now physically ill.
mentally preparing yourself, you pulled the string, your hand cutting between two heads of people you’d never seen before.
who knows if they were judging you?
that thought didn’t help a thing.
the bus came to a stop within the next few seconds, and you pulled zen’s hand tightly, practically pulling him off the bus.
“babe, we get off up there” he said, pointing north as the bus had taken off again.
you couldn’t handle a conversation with him right now, you needed to find a washroom.
taking notice of a camp-like washroom set up alongside the park a few steps away, you rushed off.
zen chased you in shock, attempting to grab a hold of your arm, to which you flicked him off of several times before reaching the area.
now he was stuck, not being able to go farther once you dashed into the ladies room.
he stood in a ball of confusion and worry.
you hadn’t acted like this before.
while inside the washroom, you locked yourself in the stall to the back, attempting to collect yourself.
once you came to the realization that your strategy wasn’t working, you just let it all out.
you felt like shit.
god, you had ruined the entire day with zen, embarrassed the two of you, and now you had made yourself physically sick.
you stayed in there for 15 minutes, simply balling your eyes out before deciding to go out and talk to him.
seeing you emerge from the washroom door, he took the best approach he imagined, pulling you into a tight hug as his eyes came across your redden face.
“i’m sorry” you muttered out, your face pressed against his chest.
quickly, he responds “it’s okay jagi, please tell me why you’re so upset”, comforting you with the tone of his voice, making you ease up a touch.
“i, there were so many people on the bus. i got sick, i was so anxious” you let out.
you knew how accepting your boyfriend was, which was why you weren’t shocked by the comforting words he spoke next.
“shhh, i get it, don’t cry”, pulling back a bit to clear the hair from your face.
he continued, saying “do you need anything? some medicine, drink?”
you shook your head, saying “no, i just need to calm myself down for a bit”.
“of course” he said, holding you until you said you were okay again not too long after.
jaehee kang:
“ugh” you let out, walking past jaehee with a throbbing pain in your head.
the cafe was making you unbelievably stressed, it was nothing like you’d ever experienced.
stress was a major downside to your cafes growing popularity, though you didn’t expect it.
little to your knowledge, jaehee heard ur groan, getting away from the counter for a spilt second.
“hm?” she said, before continuing “are you okay mc?”
“i just...” you paused, thinking of your next words.
you didn’t want to lie to her, but you didn’t want to make her worried on top of the already stressful situation.
“my head just hurts” you said, hoping to pass it off as a simple headache.
“are you alright? when did it start?” she asked, concern lacing her tone.
these pains were nothing new to you, but they got worse each and every time.
you had no energy to lie at this point, you were already done in by the day.
“the stress is getting to me, my head always aches when these things happen” you answered.
you could see her facial expression pause, as if she was deep in thought.
yet the expression changed within the minute as she responded “please go home, take the day off”.
you were blown away.
of course you didn’t want to leave jaehee alone, but you knew you couldn’t carry on like this for long.
you quickly argued “i can’t do that, you’ll be left with the stress alone”.
she gave a small smile, glancing at the clock, before responding “thank you for worrying, but i’ll be alright. there’s only an hour before closing and i can tell how bad this is effecting you”.
hence why with hesitation, you took her up on the offer.
you gathered your stuff up to leave, and went on autopilot, waking up the next day covered in warm blankets.
you couldn’t remember a thing after leaving, but you could feel how calm your body became with a bit of stress relief.
and you made sure to give jaehee your biggest thanks the next day.
jumin han:
you had started your new business over the summer.
and being the wife of c&r’s chariman-to-be, naturally people were intrigued.
many were incredibly supportive, although the occasional rumours surfaced from time to time.
crazy ideas you wouldn’t have been able to think of yourself.
suddenly you were the daughter of a president aboard, you and jumin weren’t actually married, and you only used jumin to fund and grow your business.
all completely foolish, never lasting more than a week.
however, this time around was different.
you had woken up to articles suggesting you were having an affair on your husband with your father in law, and that you had been using company profit for your own benefit.
how they came to these conclusions was beyond you, but you let it slide for now thinking it would only last a few days.
certainly nobody would believe this, there was no evidence brought forward and nothing you did had ever hinted towards these claims.
but that wasn’t the case this time.
one week went by and nothing changed.
two weeks went by and you noticed that the rumours had only increased and more was being added to the story.
now three weeks had passed, and things were only getting worse.
you had started getting emails about the rumours and sponsors had started pulling out to stay safe.
not only was it getting to you in a business sense, but your body had become ridden with stress and anxiety.
you woke up everyday in an upset mood, the first thing you noticed after coming to your senses was the back throughout your entire body.
though today it was focused in your abdomen.
this morning was no different from the previous few.
except jumin had stayed home from work for elizabeth the thirds yearly checkup.
he was the overreactive father to his cat daughter.
when he returned home with the news of elizabeths pristine health, he was met with your sleeping figure.
it was something out of the ordinary as you were usually awake at 6am.
yet it was 10am and he was standing beside your sleeping state.
remembering you had work, he shook you with ease to wake you up.
watching as you slowly opened your eyes, and within a snap you jumped up from the position you were lying in.
“what time is it?” you asked your husband frantically.
his eyes widen, slowly answered “it’s 10am, are you alright love?”
you wanted to cry.
you had woken up earlier at your usual time to an upset stomach, took some medication to ease your nerves, and laid down on your phone for a bit.
falling asleep wasn’t the plan.
“i didn’t mean to fall asleep, i need to-” you said, finding yourself in sobs midway through.
you couldn’t continue.
the tears fell uncontrollably, all the stress and worries coming out.
and jumin was at a loss for words.
yet he went to embrace you, calming you down through little words of endearment.
when you were finally calm enough to communicate, he asked “what’s going on?”
you let it all out, though you wanted to hide it from him earlier, you were desperate for things to subside at this point.
“there are all these rumours that have been going around for weeks, stuff about me getting with your father, using profit for myself, and using your entire family for exposure.”
you inhaled, being continuing “i thought they would end, but they keep going on and now it’s effecting my business. i just want it to stop”.
you stopped yourself from breaking down again, quickly composing yourself.
jumin paused, unsure of what to say.
hearing your sobs shattered his heart.
there were so many questions he needed answered, where would he even begin.
thinking for a bit, he asked “why didn’t you tell me earlier? it pains me to see you in tears”.
looking up to meet his eyes, you answered “i didn’t want you to worry”.
you knew it wasn’t an excuse he’d take seriously, but you were honest.
“your wellbeing comes before me, do not worry about my state”.
he had told you that since the day you became a couple.
adding onto that, he said “you’re staying home today. get some rest and i’ll take care of everything”.
you couldn’t argue, and part of you felt relieved getting it off your shoulders.
doing as he asked, you fell asleep again, napping like a baby.
you woke up again sometime around noon, immediately looking through your phone.
a new article caught your eye.
“Chairman Han denies all rumours involving MC and the upcoming business” it read.
you knew it wasn’t over yet, but you found comfort in the fact that it was finally thrown out of the water.
and within the next few days, you noticed your mood return to normalcy along with your body.
the stomach aches, headaches, and back pain disappeared.
you had learned your lesson, and didn’t hide your worries from then on.
saeyoung choi:
you dragged saeyoung out of the house for the night.
being the hard task that it was, you were understandably tired.
but you wouldn’t let that stop the night in front of you from being a success.
you had planned a special date to the movies in celebration of your birthday.
it was a movie you had wanted to see since it came out a year prior.
you were expecting to leave in a scared state of mind due to the movies horror nature.
what you weren’t expecting was the compacity of the movie theatre.
you wouldn’t be quick to admit it, but the sheer look of things frightened you.
it shouldn’t have been that hard to sit down and stare at a screen.
but all your attention was taken off of the movie, now directed at the people around you.
were they looking at you funny?
did you have something on your face?
were they judging you?
these questions wouldn’t leave your mind.
though you made multiple internal attempts to stop it, they just kept coming.
eventually it got too much, the nerves overwhelmed you, and you felt your stomach become physically ill.
you were gonna be sick, you thought.
turning to whisper to saeyoung, excusing yourself from the movie, you left to the washroom.
there were people in the ladies room as well, but they eventually left one by one.
you hung your head over the toilet seat, just waiting for your body to give in.
it was probably best to hide out in the stall for the remainder of the movie, you figured.
and that you tried to do, until saeyoung became suspicious and started looking for you 20 minutes later.
after searching the halls, the only reasonable conclusion left was that you were in the washroom.
he became worried that you were ill and needed help.
hence why he stood outside the door, yelling your name inside.
it caught you off guard, you weren’t ready to face him yet and have an excuse prepared.
though you didn’t have long to stay in your thoughts for long once he yelled your name out again.
leaving your safe area for the foreseeable future, you hesitantly went outside.
the red lining your eyes and your skin beginning to pale was the first thing that came to his attention as you met him outside.
“are you alright?” he asked, his voice full of fright.
“my stomach hurts” you answered, while not technically lying.
you didn’t want to come across as ruining the night by your own fear.
“i’m sorry” you let out, the guilt getting to you.
he hugged you, saying “don’t apologize, please, we’ll go home”.
he didn‘t know exactly why you became sick, but he knew better than to keep you in public while being so sick.
once you arrived home, he asked “did you catch something?” caressing your leg as you sat beside him in the parked car.
“umm” you thought for a second, “i think so”.
he looked you dead in the eye, a full minute passing by, before responding “you’re not a very good liar”.
you looked at him in confusion, trying to pass your lie off as reality.
“please, tell me the truth” he pleaded.
now you were hurting him, you thought.
your lies were too see-through to continue with this, hence why you fessed up.
“my anxiety got the best of me, there were too many people there, it made me sick” you confessed.
you felt the comfort of a hand on your shoulder within a second, feeling shitty for ending your date early.
“i understand” he said, continuing “we can have an even better night at home instead”.
you smiled, glad to see him okay with the current situation.
“of course, thank you” you said.
the rest of the night was full of sweets and cuddles, watching a fluffy drama on the tv.
you fell asleep on the couch together, awoken by saeran the next morning wanting to sit down within saeyoungs foot in his lap.
---
20:00 AST - 09/06/21
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starshipsofstarlord · 3 years
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Jim and Jody - Bucky Barnes x reader
Summary; it was one of the biggest decisions of your life, but will you change your mind before your future is sealed?
Warnings; angst, mentions of abortion (everyone is permitted to do what they want with their body, in this imagine the reader wants to keep the baby, but pro choice, as everyone deserves control over their bodies and all 🤍), brief mention of sex and threats
Masterlist Link
To see him so relaxed, so completely and utterly himself was a paradise all on its own. There was a heaviness aboard your shoulders, but as you watched him goof tirelessly about, you had no other concerns, not even as you subconsciously raised your hand over your stomach. You shook your head at the sentiment, the two of you had already made the decision to abort this child, it was unknown how the poor fellow would turn out to be; with the combination of your powers and his super everything, it was sure to be quite the complication, and not one that you supposed was to be an easy course.
A smile pried at your face, simply from viewing him with the pack of children, the wind from the docks swept your hair into your face, and in turn, you swept the locks out and away from your vision, so that you had further access to watch the man that you loved in his absolute element. Through the years, past and recent, he had lost so much, and this child was just to be another mantle on the wall of memorial in his mind, it was sad really. If the two of you were normal, with average and lives that had perceptions with no regards of being heroic, there’d be no query about it, you’d keep the baby.
That life though, to your grave misfortune, did not exist, it was merely a fantasy living painfully inside of your mind, haunting you whenever you closed your eyes, with the flashing images of a resolution and end to the errors in your lifestyle. There’d be a big house, yet nothing to prissy, just enough room for the pair of you and few children of your own, a grand garden with a swing set and sand pit, where the infants could grow up and play in once they were older. Then there’d also be a shed for Bucky to work on small projects, such as attaining some love and care to his motor bike, as well as storing the supplies that he’d need to do so.
All that is a universe away, muffled from possibility by the stars expediting through the gorgeous veil of the galaxy, corrupting the possibilities of ever gaining access to such... peace. That was the one thing that the pair of you wanted, however catching a break was rather rare within your predicament. A stifled laugh reeled from the conjunction of your lips as you simply and endearingly surveyed how the boys, specifically Sam’s nephews hung from the vibranium branch of his arm. It was all your attention was focused on, until an extra person took a seat on the picnic table beside you, his sweet yet musky scent detailing whom it was. “If your not going to eat that, I’m sure Barnes Junior might want an opinion on that.”
The underlining of the words caused an abstract grimace to forlorn your features, as you stared not at the speaker of whom you were close with, but instead the slather of cake that was planted on a paper plate before you, the icing beginning to become slightly sick from the beating of the viable son. “You’re glowing, you know? Motherhood is a good look on you y/n/n, I wouldn’t be so soon to let that go.” Your fingers pried at the dismantled crumbs off your section of desert as you looked to your new captain, a resonating conformation fo bridled suffering and hopelessness clouding your view of his attempt at making you atone before you made a sin that you’d forever regret.
He, like many others, knew that the family life was what you wanted; you wanted to be your child’s hero, tending to their each necessary (and unnecessary) need, them being your main focus and project and life. Instead, you had been handed your options on a short stick, and thus, your decision, albeit somewhat of a sensible one, didn’t make it hurt any less. “Sam.” You spoke his name, observing from the corner of your eye how Bucky paraded around the dock with Jim and Jody. It’d be nice to give him a slice of this kinda life, he was thriving as an adult around children, you could only imagine him in the case of this one being birthed into the world. “It’s not that easy.”
“No one said it was going to be easy.” Sam responded quickly, affirming your fears to your nerve wrecked face. “I get it, I do. People will be after this kid, and that is no way to live, but you two aren’t alone in any of this, nor will you be in that. You have me, along with many other old friends of ours, hell even the Wakandan’s. Do you really want to sacrifice this one life so you can continue living this one? You and Bucky have both lost so much, you don’t have to force yourself to willingly give away something else. The decision can be changed the last minute, it’s a lot to take in, I get that, but I see the way Buck is with my nephews, and how you watch them when you think nobody’s looking over at you. With your state pardon, you two can retire, and go far away, and abandon everything for this one little guy or gal, because I know that if you do, no matter what, they’ll be worth it.”
Bucky wailed a warrior’s shout as Jim and Jody playfully struck him down, his unsheathed metal hand grasping at the cloth that was tightly aboard his addictive chest. He rolled on the ground as the children ran to retrieve their toy lightsabers, leaving him to be expendable against their weapons. There was a giddy and fitting smile smouldering his usual stoic expression. It was no wander why he found calm in visiting Sam and his sister’s small, and accepting family. The kids brought out another side of him, which he had been tortured to refrain from showing, but you had seen, and were contemplating many things within your mind. You were lapping up the image, as though you were dehydrated and the sight of him appeased by the company of young ones was a source of water.
Sam was right, he always was and had been. “The decision was on both of our parts, you don’t think Buck’ll change his mind, or do you?” You were invested in getting a responsive answer, yet the man spluttered a laugh at your confused expense. He heaved for a moment, bracing his hands on his knees as he caught his breath. There was nothing stopping him from gaining it back, unlike Bucky whom had grabbed a saber of his own and lightly began to paddle against the one that was directed against him, other than another round of hysterics that abandoned him. A reasonable smile resonated a comfortable position upon the former falcon’s face, as he tentatively patted your knee, watching as you broke off a small rupture of cake and popped it in your mouth, feeding not only yourself but the inmate within your womb.
“There isn’t really much for me to say, it’s easy, look at him. He will be fine with whatever decision that the pair of you succumb to, after all, it’s your body, but it will pain him like nothing else ever has if you go through with the abortion, and if not, then trust me, we’ve both seen how hard he fights; think of that but ten times the mass in consideration of this baby, because I am certain that he’d do anything for them. He lost his entire family when he awoke from his mode of hydra assassin, this could be him getting it back. Different members, but a family all the same.” He stole a little of your cake, making you lightly elbow him as a smirk rendered a beauty upon his face.
“What’s that going to make you, the patriotic uncle who just can’t keep himself from flashing his shield?” Now it was his turn to retaliate, he lightly scuffed your ankle with a feather light tap of the toe of his shoe, causing you to promiscuously roll your eyes. “I’m joking, that was Steve’s aesthetic, this new version of cap is your baby, I have great faith in you to make this world a better and safer place. The funny thing is, when you finally accepted that shield was yours, that’s when my mind shifted to the possibility of keeping this kid. It was and has always been a sign of hope and protection to Bucky, maybe it could be the same for our little one. It was just a thought, I’m not meaning to put pressure on your or anything bu-“
“I get it, and I’m honoured. And if that is how it seems, then I want you to know that I’ll be there to protect them too. The main bump in the road for now is for you to talk to that grumpy ass boyfriend of yours and figure this sperm plus egg equation out, send Jim and Jody over here, I got somethin’ to show those two anyway.” With a nod and a grateful pat upon your friend’s head, you slowly plodded over to where Bucky was being cornered against the side of the truck by the boys. His blue orbs danced around their small and imaginative beings, until they landed on you, it was as though his pupils were calling out for help, begging for you to spare some mercy upon him.
“Jim, Jody, your uncle Sammy has something for you two to see.” They groaned lightly, having been pulled away from the narrative of their play time, but nevertheless their faces were clean slates as they expressed hyper smiles, and bolted their route towards their mother’s sibling, carrying their lightsaber replicas along with them. “Two kids beat an infamous, deadly badass with a metal arm. I think you might be getting too old for these kinda battles Buck, you were losing, and quite terribly if I say so myself.” Crossing your arms, as he came to an upright stand, hoisting himself off the ground, so that he could be more level with you.
“Yeah, yeah, rub it in. Thought you were supposed to be supportive of me and all that, as you said to Zemo, you’d quite happily cut his dick off if he compared me to the shadow that I used to be.” His brow raised, as he reminisced on the thought of you threatening Zemo; it was hot, and certainly had gotten him going, which had shortly left you in this predicament, trying to save the world and execute the one last thing that exhumed hope to either one of you. The baby. It was almost a certain and solid fact that the little one inside of you had been procreated on the Baron’s private jet, more specifically, the small and clean bathroom that had became dirty with your primal sins.
“And I still regret not doing that, he’d have had much less leverage in any sense of the word of phallic if he had it sectioned off.” Silence emitted between the two of you, although a humoured smirk tantalised upon Bucky’s graceful face. For a change, he was not prompting the expression of a grumpy cat that was refused its nip, no, instead he could be compared to a future - actually, he already was a father to the bean held in the shield of your body, having been an ample ingredient in bringing the small person into being. “So, you having fun with Sarah’s kids, sure looks like you were quite in your element before I cut in.”
“I’m always in my element when you’re around doll.” He smiled, wrapping his uncoordinated hands around the oval of your waist, and tugging you sentimentally closer, your hips bumped with his, as your eyes ogled infatuatedly up at him. “They’re great kids, makes me realise exactly what we’re gonna be missing out on.” Bucky gulped, sparks of emotion taunted the behind of his eyes, like saucers of resentful fire. “You’d be the perfect mother, you know that right? After all you’ve done for me, you’ve nurtured me close to the man that I once was, the only difference is that I want to settle, but I don’t know how to go about dropping everything. This kid is killing me, he’s making me question everything.”
“That’s what kids are supposed to do, unborn, or very much avidly attacking grown men with false lightsabers.” Bucky deeply into your frustrated and corresponding eyes, your hands reaching up to play defiantly with the smooth dip in his chin that could be seen through the shading of his light stubble. “What if we did have a Jim and Jody of our own some day? We could keep him or her, they’d be our greatest concern, we don’t have to go down this painful and longing, rusted road. We could bring something good into this world, protect them against all forces that threaten to disrupt their life, I want this with you Bucky. We could move far far away, or go somewhere close to home.”
“Brooklyn.” He stated, causing a line to crease gently in the plain of his forehead. “I want to call them Brooklyn, if I am to fight the rest of my life for something, I want it to be my home. Last time I had to leave there, but it’s my amends to never leave this child of ours, if we’re going to do this, we need to put them in front of everything, and I mean everything.” He spoke, in reference to the other avengers and other aliases that you had stood by for so long. Bleakly you nodded, grasping his jaw down for an amorous kiss, humming against the palette of his lips, as your hands entwined behind his neck, pulling his face closer to your own, prompting his tongue to travel deeper within the realm of your mouth.
“Brooklyn is a nice name. How about Brooklyn Margaret Barnes? I think that has quite the ring to it.” You offered, and he hardly reacted, instead quickly appraising a pleasant smile onto the canvas of his work of art face, as he ducked his head down, conjoining the pair of you into a passionate and meaningful collide of your lips. Sam smiled as he watched the pair of you, pointing at you two from afar, as his nephews from afar. He was giving them a man to men talk, offering them advice that they would have valuable usage of in the future.
“Now that is love. You don’t give up for the one thing that connects you, and those two, well Bucky and y/n have been through a hell of a lot. They deserve this, and when you meet a woman when you’re older, and your mum is watching on towards the two of you, I want you to make her proud by treating your girl like a princess, willing to sacrifice everything simply to create the future that she wishes for you.” He emotionally wiped his eyes, rushing to stand before he grasped a lightsaber, leaving the other to spare for one of them. “Now Jim and Jody, which one of you will be my padawan?”
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mcheang · 3 years
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In another’s eyes
Inspired by https://m.fanfiction.net/s/13849241/1/Signed-Gifts
Basically Adrien finds Marinette’s signature on his blue scarf and connects the dots.
Adrien is hurt that Marinette let him believe his father gave him the scarf. He understands why but it hurts worse after all this time thinking his father finally gave him something new. It’s having new hopes crushed
He visits Marinette and gently confronts her over it, chiding her to tell him the truth next time instead of letting him believe a lie.
Frantic, Marinette wildly points out that he lets their classmates believe in Lila’s wild promises. How is she any different from him?
Pause.
Adrien never really thought about it that way. He just wanted his classmates to be happy. But if he told them the truth, they would be sad and Lila would also be angry at him and probably akumatized.
If he kept the truth from them, then wasn’t he being a hypocrite?
Marinette worried she said something she could never take back. “Adrien...”
He held up a hand, needing to think.
What was the Chinese saying again? “Do not do unto others what you don’t want others do unto you.”-Confucius
Well, Adrien wasn’t one to deny an ancient philosopher’s wisdom.
Adrien: no, you’re right, Marinette. I’m a hypocrite for scolding you for something I’ve done as well
Marinette: you haven’t-
Adrien: but i have. Please don’t sugarcoat this, Marinette. Don’t try to spare my feelings when the truth is more important.
Marinette was nervous and predictably, she rambled. “Well, if you are planning to expose Lila, you would also be in trouble because while i constantly doubted her trip to Achu, you were aware of her playing truant.”
Adrien paused and took a breath. “I know. And I’ll accept my due punishment. But what matters is making things right. We need to tell everyone that Lila is a liar.”
Marinette: but how? They don’t believe me. And who knows if they’ll believe you!”
Adrien frowned, thinking again. “Don’t you have Jagged’s number?”
Marinette: Yup. I barely got him to cease suing Alya’s Ladyblog for Lila’s interview. He doesn’t really follow her anymore.
Adrien: do you think he’ll help us expose Lila?
Marinette: we can ask. But I think it’s a safe bet. The only reason he didn’t go after Lila herself was because she up and vanished after turning into Volpina.
Jagged was thrilled to sic Fang on Lila
Marinette: we said expose! Not kill
Jagged: I never feed Fang rotten food. He’ll just sit on her or chase her up a tree
Adrien: thank you. I’m just worried Lila will be akumatized again, though. The last time, Ladybug chewed her out for claiming to be BFFs; though after hearing Lila pronounce herself a better self-proclaimed heroine, it’s not that hard to see why Ladybug was angry (Adrien may have been upset with Ladybug but I imagine he would try to justify her behavior later. seriously, who wouldn’t be angry after hearing Lila insult her like that? He’s not very sensitive to others’ emotions)
Jagged: you can’t keep everybody happy. And sometimes you shouldn’t. Some people don’t deserve to be coddled. And besides, once the witch is exposed, who is to say the others won’t be akumatized?
Adrien paled. He didn’t consider that.
Marinette: well, we could try to keep an eye out for akumas. And maybe even get the heroes to stand guard?
Adrien: good idea. But how to contact them?
Marinette: leave it to me. I’ve seen the heroes jump on rooftops plenty from my balcony.
Jagged: just say the word and set the date, and your uncle Jagged will be there faster than you can say “Croc”
Marinette soon called Adrien and Jagged to tell them that Ladybug would be happy to stand by and even offer her own testimony that she is so not friends with Lila.
However, after hearing how Lila framed Marinette, Ladybug wanted Marinette absent in case Lila blamed her for Jagged exposing her.
Jagged: well, she’s not totally wrong.
Marinette: uncle Jagged!
Jagged: what, you did call me for this.
On the day of Lila’s downfall, school had just ended and students started heading home. Marinette was one of the first, having to work at the bakery. Chloé and Sabrina also left, not bothering to stay around and chat with the peasants.
To the lingering students’ surprise, a popular and familiar rock song began blasting into the air as a tour bus drove up to the school.
Jagged: hello Dupont College! Are you ready to rock!
Students crowded up and screamed.
Lila paled and could not escape the gravity of the crowd.
Jagged: now where’s my guitar? Fang, if you don’t mind?
Fang waddled up, guitar on his back.
Jagged: now Fang’s been with me since he hatched from an egg. And he’s the best pet a rocker could ask for.
Alya: what about your cat?
Jagged: cat? Since when did I own a cat?
Alya: but Lila said-
Jagged: who? Sorry miss, but I think you must have confused me with someone else.
A pause for the class as Jagged started playing a guitar riff.
While the crowd cheered, the class stared at Lila.
Lila: he doesn’t like his kitten to be brought up
Ivan: he doesn’t even know you
Lila: he does! Right, Adrien?
Lila glared at him meaningfully. But Adrien ignored her and just sang along. He promised to maintain a guise of friendship, but no more lies. Though if Lila was exposed, maybe their deal could be considered pointless now. Still...better not to antagonise her so openly.
Nino: you’re asking the wrong person. The only other people in class who can get close to Jagged are Chloé (same hotel) and...Marinette. That’s how she knew you were a liar!
Jagged: hey, what’s going on over there?
The student body turned to stare, annoyed at the interruption.
Aware of unwanted scrutiny, Alya quickly said, “oh, we were just having a priority one class meeting. Sorry! We’ll keep it down.”
The class dragged Lila off, and Ladybug secretly followed. Adrien reluctantly did so too.
Surrounded, Lila could not run away, so she burst into fake tears.
Lila: why are you being so mean?
Mylène: do you think her tears are real?
Kim snorted. “Doubtful. But I don’t think she’s worth bothering about anymore.”
Alya: what? She lied!
Kim: and we believed a con artist. But unless we lost a lot of money or whatever, what’s the point of doing this?
True. While Lila had promised favors, that didn’t mean the class had stop working hard on their own. And Alya’s credibility was also her fault for not checking her sources and getting more proof.
Alya huffed. “Fine! But she just gets away scot free?”
Max: unlikely. There is the matter of forging doctor’s letter and skipping school.
Lila: you can’t prove that!
Alya: I can just call your mother right now.
Lila: and tell her that you’re bullying me?
Alya: no, we are just going to ask her some questions. And if she was duped by you, too, I don’t think she can deny the truth if we walk up to her office and make a scene.
Adrien: is that really necessary?
Alya: Mrs Rossi must really believe her daughter. She may think us all bullies if we expose Lila but the presence of her colleagues will influence her. Besides, our questions are simple. Was Lila really sick? Was she at Achu?
The class dragged Lila to the embassy and made such a ruckus that Mrs Rossi came out, especially when she saw her daughter in the center of it all, yelling at them to be quiet.
Mrs Rossi was angry but answered their questions that Lila had never been sick or to Achu while Alya filmed her. But there was the akuma plague. At this, the class told her the truth and even her observing colleagues backed them up.
Lila was distraught. Where was the freaking akuma?
Ladybug was lounging on the roof, her yo-yo stuffed with butterflies. As long as she didn’t use her lucky charm, she was in no danger of detransforming.
When Adrien didn’t back Lila, she told everyone he knew she was a liar.
Adrien admits his faults and realized his lesson now. The class knew why Marinette kept the scarf secret so they could sort of understand why he wanted to keep everybody happy. He also was the one who got Marinette back into school, so they forgave him.
Lila was expelled once Damocles saw the footage and Mrs Rossi confirmed it.
Lila was sent to boarding school instead where everyone knew she was a compulsive liar. Nobody took her seriously there.
As for Adrien, he was always determined to hear the blunt truth, tired of being sheltered.
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Text
Blood Games {John Blake x Reader Oneshot}
Requested by: Anonymous Wordcount: 2484 Summary: Yours and John’s children never come off the school bus.
Deep in your heart, you were always afraid. Afraid of what would happen to John on the job, afraid of some sort of retaliation against your family because he really was such a good cop, afraid of the corruption inside of the department making it’s way into your husband’s heart. John was one of the good ones. That’s why you married him. But there was just so much of it, shown by the way that the villains had been taking over Gotham. It seemed like it was only one thing after another. If you didn’t have so much love for the potential that this city really could be, you would have packed your family up years ago and tried to hit the road, go somewhere safer. But Gotham was home. It was where John’s heart was. It was where your kids seemed happy. 
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Any minute now, they would be getting off of the bus, and running into your arms. You were waiting at the stop, looking down the street with a couple of the other mothers, listening to the latest gossip. Something about a stepmother over-stepping their bounds. You were lucky you never had to deal with that. You were one of the few undivorced mothers on the block. You had no complaints about the father of your children. Your marriage was still a happy one.
Five minutes went by. Still no bus. You were starting to feel anxious. Started to pace back and forth. “It’s okay, you know how traffic is,” One of the other mothers said to you, putting their hand on your arm. You weren’t the fondest of being touched but you knew she meant no harm so you put a smile on your face.
“I’m sure that’s the case,” You said, trying to convince yourself. You kept on checking your phone. There was nothing from John. Surely he would tell you if there was some sort of case by the school. It wasn’t so far away that you wouldn’t  have been able to hear if there was some sort of bombing, like there had been at the hospital not too long ago. You texted John, not being able to help it. He texted you back right away.
‘Nothing called to us at the station. Call the school?’
You’d wait another minute. And then you would. The secretary picked up, though she sounded out of breath, like she was on her way out. “Hi, this is Mrs. Blake,” You introduced, though they knew you well. You were very involved in their school life, taking part in all of the fundraisers and the field trip. Your family really was your life.
“Hi y/n, how can I help you?” She asked.
“Sorry to bother you, but has there been any sort of delay with the buses? I’ve been waiting at the usual stop for about ten minutes now and it hasn’t shown up yet. Or is there some construction near the school that I’ve managed to miss?”
“Oh, that’s odd. Let me just see if I can track it down for you. You know what Gotham is like, there’s construction everywhere. I’m sure that there’s a reason for it...”
You heard some tapping of a keyboard on the other line. Some clicking of the mouse. And then a hmmm sound. “No, I can’t see any reason why there would be any delays. Are you sure that it wasn’t early?”
“I’m positive,” You said. You looked around at the other mothers who were turning to you, the policeman’s wife, for information. You were the only one who was thorough enough to make the call. “If they circle back for any reason, would you give me a call please?”
“Of course,” The secretary assured. You hung up and felt all of the eyes upon you. You shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant but your heart was beating a thousand times a minute. Sweat was beginning to come down on your palms. You didn’t like this. You did not like not knowing where your children were. You moved a couple of steps away, and you called John. He picked up at the second ring.
“Where are you?” You asked immediately, hoping that he was near the school. But your heart sunk when he told you that he was on patrol in the downtown area. “Nobody knows where the school bus is. John - John, I feel like I’m going to be sick. I have a really bad feeling about this.”
“I’ll be there soon,” John said, and ended the call. You stayed. You weren’t going anywhere, just in case there was a chance that the bus would be coming. That’s what you were hoping for. What you were praying for. Any glimpse of yellow and you were standing on your tiptoes, looking down the street. But nothing. The bus didn’t come. The other mothers called their husbands. Called the school. Called the police. And were looking to you as the policeman’s wife on what they should be doing.
You tried to hold strong. You kept your back straight, kept looking down the road. Any second now, any second your babies were going to be back in your arms where they belonged.
John pulled up in the cruiser, the lights flashing but the siren wasn’t on. “No sign of them?” He asked. You shook your head. Oh my god, how you just hoped that he would hop out of that thing and would hold you. Would tell you that everything was going to be alright. You always believed it coming from him. He was the most honest person that you knew. And the fact that he wasn’t saying that, wasn’t doing that, told you that maybe everything wouldn’t be alright.
“Look!” One of the other mothers said, pointing down the street. You turned and to your great relief, you saw a yellow school bus making it’s way down the street. You’ve never felt so happy to see the color yellow in all of your life. Your hand went over your heart, but you still felt that sick feeling. What on Earth had happened? You had some words for the bus driver. And by the looks of things so did John. And the other mothers. John finally got out of the car. But he kept the lights on.
The school bus pulled to the side. The door opened. The driver looked pale. The kids coming off looked sick. Three kids - four - five - sometimes yours liked to come off of the bus last because they were saying a long goodbye to their friends but-
But they weren’t coming off of the bus.
John marched on up those stairs, going straight to the driver. Stared at them, and asked his questions. The other mothers were looking at you, holding their own kids tight. Nobody seemed to move. Two of the younger kids were starting to cry. Your hands were shaking. The mothers were asking their kids what happened but they were too upset to say. They kept on looking at you, bottom lips trembling. You crossed your arms in front of you, waiting for John to come out, waiting to find out what happened to your babies. Was there a medical emergency? No, they would have reached out. You had your cellphone with you. There was no excuse.
John eventually came down the stairs. The door closed behind him. The bus continued on. “We need to go down to the station, now.” He told you, taking hold of your hand. He didn’t look so good himself. He was about the same shade of pale as the bus driver. He then seemed to take notice of, for the first time, the group of women who were looking to you, to him. “It’s okay guys, you can head on home. We have your numbers if there’s anything we need.”
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“Okay,” The one closest to you said. They put their hand on your shoulder for a moment, giving it a reassuring squeeze, and then they all went to take their children back home. You knew that they were good people, but you also knew that they were glad they were not in your position right now. You gave them a little wave, and that was the end of you holding yourself together. As soon as you were in the front of the police cruiser, your first time in one of these actually, you let loose, tears flooding your eyes, your body turned entirely to your husband.
“Where are they, John? Where are our babies? What the hell happened?” The questions were coming out before you could stop them. And John, although he was nervous to say anything - he told you what the driver had told him.
Agents of Bane. Coming onto the bus. Calling for your kids by their names. Bane knew their NAMES. And the reason for the hold up was because your children were smart and they didn’t give themselves up. And none of the other children on the bus gave them up either. Nor the bus driver. It took them rustling through the bags to find something with their names on them to find your children. And then they were taken. The bus driver was so shaken, not knowing what to do, that their body went into autopilot, taking the rest of the kids home.
“He’ll be coming by the station after to get a statement,” John said, one hand on the wheel, the other on your thigh. Normally that would be pretty sexy, you loved when he touched you, but nothing in this moment felt good. Nothing felt like it would be good again.
-
The Batman was dead. But with him went the bomb that would have destroyed Gotham as you knew it. And those that had brought the bomb into the city. Bane. Talia Al-Ghul. The same people who had taken your children. The same people who had trapped most of the city’s police underground - but thankfully, not your husband. You didn’t know what you would have done if he had been missing too. You would have lost everything.
You and John were rushing to one of the precincts in the city. Your children. They had found your children. You were a nervous wreck, biting on your nails until they bled. John was driving a little more recklessly than usual. Swerving around traffic. Sirens blaring on the top of the car despite this not being a city emergency. But it was a family emergency. You couldn’t wait much longer.
John, with his longer legs, went in ahead of you, but you were close by on his heels. Your eyes scanning every face inside of the precinct. The weary and tired and underfed cops were milling around, trying to catch up on their work. Trying to deal with all that had happened inside of the city during the last couple of days. But then you saw him - Jim Gordon, out of the hospital, looking older than you had ever seen him, sitting on a bench with your daughter and your son, their little legs to small to even reach the ground from where they were sitting.
You heard their names being called out. It took you a moment to realize that it had been you, without realizing it. Their heads turned toward you and it was like the world was going in slow motion. Your daughter’s braids were frazzled, but still somehow being held together. You had done them for her days prior, when she wanted to look pretty for school. Two falling down around her shoulders. And your son with those eyes that he had inherited from his father - those dark brown eyes that one could just fall into endlessly. The wide smile. Two missing front teeth. That was a new development. They stood up, crying out, ‘Mom! Dad!’
Tears welled up in your eyes making everything blurry. You fell onto your knees and felt your daughter wrap her arms around your shoulders. You took in the smell of her hair, that natural sweetness that little girls seem to have. The smell that you had inhaled through her pillow each night because you needed something of her close to help you drift off. Your son, too. He was beside you, and then you were enveloped in an even bigger hug by your husband.
“They’re unharmed, we had a doctor check them over,” Gordon was saying, but it was in one ear and out the other. “A bit malnourished and in need of a bath but they’ll be fine.”
“Thank you,” You said into the fabric of your daughter’s jacket, your voice coming out muffled. But Gordon seemed to have heard you either way. You felt a pat on your back and then the old Commissioner limped away, given you and your family some somewhat private time. There were plenty of looks from other officers, but most of them were friendly. They were smiling. This is why they had gotten onto the police force. For moments like this when everything turned out okay.
John’s lips brushed past your forehead, and then on that of your daughter, and then your son. “Thank God. Thank God,” He muttered over and over again. Looking at you. Looking at your kids. Checking them over despite Gordon’s words. He had to  be certain that they were okay. “I’m never letting you go again. Any of you.”
“How am I going to take a bath then, daddy?” Your son asked, looking up at him with a scrunched expression. “I’m not taking one with you or her-” He pointed at his older sister. You almost rolled your eyes. Leave it to them to start bickering after being rescued. Siblings. They never change.
“Your daddy will give you a bath when we get home, and I’ll give your sister one,” You said, rubbing his back up and down. “And then we’ll have a big dinner. Whatever you want baby.”
“McDonalds?” Your daughter ventured hopefully.
“Pizza?” Your son asked.
You and John looked at each other and for the first time in days, started to laugh. “McDonalds and pizza,” He confirmed with a nod, getting back onto his feet, lifting your daughter up  in his arms the way that he used to when she had just been a little girl.
True to his word, John didn’t let any of you go for a couple of days, until it was time for school. This time, he took them each morning. He picked them up each afternoon. No more school buses. No more fear of where they could be. No more waiting by the street for the yellow bus to come. It was rough going forward, trying not to helicopter parent but when your father is a cop, you get sort of used to that thing. Your kids were strong. Resilient. They bounced back despite their fear.
Just like their father.
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letarasstuff · 3 years
Text
When everybody turns into an oracle
Summary: Nothing puts more pressure on you than other people teling you your grade will be perfect, because behind that stands so much more than a number on a sheet of paper. Same goes for Spencer's daughter.
Warnings: School, grades, angst (there is fluff and a badass moment), fear of failure/disappointing someone
Wordcount: 1.5k
✨Masterlist✨ __________________________________
“I really pooped this quiz. What about you, (Y/N)?” Before the teenager is able to answer, another classmate comes up from behind the two. “She’ll get a 100, like always.”
“I-I don’t know. Question two and three really got me there, I’m just happy to pass it.” The little group of people around her groans.
“You always say that.” “And get a perfect score”, the first one adds, “Just stop to make us look bad, because we really do have to worry about passing this class. What do you have to worry about? Getting straight A’s like that. I really want your problems.”
(Y/N) just keeps it quiet. She stopped a long time ago trying to defend herself. ‘I am on my way to the BAU’, she shoots a text to her father and exits the school building. Today she doesn’t take the train. There are too many noises and all she wants is some peace.
The words of her classmates echoes through her head. Yes, she always has a good score and she intends to keep it up. She is just doing her best, right? Her problems have to be still valid, don’t they?
“Ahh, Wonder Baby. I thought you forgot about us and decided you are too cool to hang out with us”, Derek calls out after her as soon as he spots his godchild. “Nah, Uncle Derek. Nobody can be too cool to hang out with you. I just hadn’t had much time because of school work. But there are only two weeks left before spring break starts and the only thing I have to do now is waiting for my results.”
“Right, Spencer told us you are stressing yourself out about those. Your last quiz was today, wasn’t it? The one you dread the most apparently?” Emily joins the conversation. “Uh, I did. But don’t get your hopes up too high, I really don’t have a clue what I did there. The grade can range between passed to 100.”
“Naw, Smartypants, you say that every time. What are you afraid of? Telling us you are real smart? Don’t be humble, we work with your father. We know how to handle geniuses.” Derek isn’t exactly helping her with that. (Y/N) just turns red and tries to change the subject. “Uh, no. Another thing: Where is Dad?”
“Spencer went to pick some reports from the M.E. in D.C. who helped us on the last case. He should be back in half an hour. But Penelope wants to see you, something about trying new vegan cookies she baked last night”, JJ informs (Y/N) as she passes the group to drop some files off.
For the remainder of the day the teenager hides out in the lair, blocking any human reaction out with her earphones. She just can’t handle any more insensitive stuff like earlier. Later her father picks her up to go home together.
“So, Emily told me you didn’t do well on your test today? Do you wanna talk about it?” He asks, choosing his words carefully as he prepares dinner with his daughter sitting at the kitchen table and watching him. The doctor knows the pressure created by asking his daughter about school related topics.
“I don’t know. Everyone keeps telling me I’ll get a perfect score and I think it’s admirable that all of them turn out to be able to look into the future. How do they know better than me what I get?”
It’s months of pent up stress and anxiety finally making its way up to the surface. (Y/N) tries to fight the tears down. “I really don’t understand this. I get asked how I did, I tell them I don’t feel good about the test and then they talk over me every single time. And when I say I don’t know it, I say it to not get anybody’s hope up high. I don’t want to disappoint anybody.” Finally tears stream down the teenager’s cheeks.
“Oh Sweetheart”, Spencer makes his way over to her and engulfs his daughter in a hug. “Shhh, don’t cry. I know it’s incredibly difficult to live up to their expectations, but you don’t need to. You don’t need to impress them, because their opinion doesn’t matter. Neither your classmate’s, your teacher’s nor the team’s. Not even mine should be important to you. Also, it doesn’t matter what you do, I’ll always be so proud of you, words can’t even describe it. There is literally nothing you can disappoint me with. You pushed and still push through so much crap and still you don’t fail to amaze me. You can never fail to amaze me. You can fail any class and become a professional card counter, I’ll still be proud to be your father. Please don’t cry over something you shouldn’t care about.”
They remain like this for several minutes, grasping each other until (Y/N)’s tears eventually die down. “I just want to be something more than just the smart girl with the good grades. I don’t want to feel like a two dimensional side character in a show, only there to provide the main characters with knowledge. I don’t want to be Velma, River Song, Frozone or Domino from Deadpool 2. I don’t want to be overlooked like this anymore.”Finally talking about her deepest insecurities lets her feel like a weight is lifted off her shoulders.
“And you are so much more”, Spencer encounters, “Some people just choose to ignore it, because you are so much more than their small brain with a low capacity is able to comprehend. They just pick the trait they understand the easiest. But never stop being you. Stay loud, stay complicated and, if you want to stay, uncomfortable for them. The right people will take the time and effort to get to know the real you, not just a copy others think you are. I know, it takes a great amount of patience to wait for them, but it’s worth it in the end. You hear me?”
(Y/N) looks up at her father, a small smile forming on her face. He would walk to the end of the world if it means to see it. “I hear you, Dad. Thank you so much.”
This night the teenager doesn’t get a lot of sleep. There are many thoughts that want to be, well, thought through. Still she wakes up and goes to school with a new amount of confidence.
This sadly only lasts until her first period. The teacher, one who is typically known for grading student’s work pretty fast, gives back yesterday’s quizzes. A small tumoult ensues as everyone compares their scores with each other.
(Y/N)’s anxiety rises into the unmeasurable until her teacher puts down her worksheet without a word. Confused she looks at the B- sitting at the dotted line, where the grade is supposed to be.
Now, a B- isn’t bad or anything, but she spots several answers her teacher didn’t tick as right or wrong. He must have oversaw them. Deciding to ask him about it after class, she puts it away and focuses on the material he is teaching.
So there she is, waiting for other classmates asking their questions regarding the quiz until it’s her turn. Meanwhile her lab partner Masey comes up to the teenager. “And, how did you do?”
“Uh, I got a B- bu-” “Oh my god, I’m better than the class nerd. I’m better than The Brain. Casey, I got a higher score than (Y/N)! I think you, too! Wow, I didn’t know I’m that smart. But no worries, (Y/N). I can explain this unit to you later, so you can do better next time.” This is the final straw for her.
“Hold on a sec, Masey. I’ll get that A, because Mr Harries didn’t see some of my answers. And just for your information: I didn’t ask you about your grade last time, because I knew you would poop that one after trying to explain it to you for four times while I got another A. Like every single time until now. Stop trying to appear cleverer than you are, it doesn’t suit you as much as these pants don't, because they are at least two sizes too small.”
The line finally moves up and (Y/N) is able to show Mr Harries his mistakes. He apologizes profusely, admitting that he maybe was too tired to grade these last quizzes and rewrite the B- to an A.
With her head held high she walks past her classmates, a content smile on her face.
It may be a long road to accept that you can’t be perfect and your grades don’t have to be, but forget this for a second and appreciate the feeling you get proving someone wrong like this.
Taglist:
All works:
@agentshortstacc
Criminal Minds:
@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl
348 notes · View notes
shini--chan · 3 years
Note
I have an idea! What would Allies do after finding out that their s/o have (another) stalker? It can be another yandere, a creep, ex, jealous coworker with bad intentions or even a serial killer.
And a good idea it is, my dear anon.
Yandere Allies – Feindling America
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You were already fast asleep, snoozing away under the covers in your shared bedroom. He, on the other hand, was still wide awake and had decided to settle down in the living room to do some light reading. His insomnia was due to the usual reasons – too much caffeine, too much stress, too much curiosity to just let the day finish.
And because he was worried, intently, about you. There was somebody else trying to stick their grubby fingers in your shared life, and pry you apart. That was something he was absolutely sure off. After living so long, and becoming paranoid due to his position on the global stage, he knew very well when he was being watched.
There was something after you in particular, he didn’t like it.
Out of his peripheral vision, he caught sight of somebody moving in the bushes. A spike of adrenaline shot through his body, and for a moment he was tempted to storm about side and give that creep a hook. Yet a better idea came to mind – first to fire a warning shot.
He net his book aside and sauntered to one of the glass door to the balcony and gave the pane a few sharp knocks. It was enough to catch their attention. It was almost comical how the figure froze, and the hood swivelled in his direction. Alfred couldn’t identify them in any capacity – they wore non-script jeans and a grey hoodie along with a pair of gloves. But this was about digging up the war axe.
Grinning, he flipped the bird at them, and then proceeded to draw a thin line across his throat in an unmistakable message.
Alfred would see this as a chance to play hero. He would finally be able to prove to you how capable he is at protecting you, how attentive he would be when it would water down to your safety. Of course, he would make sure there would be a lot he wouldn’t catch wind off – it would be the instances where he would come off as an evil master mind or as a control freak that he would skilfully hide from you.
He might or might not elect to torture the fool that would be stalking you. For him, waterboarding that creep would be a method of stress relief. It would also drive home the point that nobody should dare try to get between him and his sweetie.
Canada
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Besides you, your phone beeped for what must have been the twelfth time in the span of one minute. You sobbed harder and buried your face in his chest. Matthew calmly stroked your back, making quiet soothing noises as he held you close.
“(Ex) will have to leave you be someday. This can’t go on forever. One day that jerk will have to accept that you’re gone for good”, he told quietly, while cautiously shifting his position to a more comfortable one.
You were both on the backseat of his car, having sought sanctuary there after you started panicking upon seeing the messages. All the memories had started to overwhelm you, and you had gripped his arm as if it was the only thing that was preventing you from drowning.
“No, that won’t be the case. Before I met you, I tried to leave so often only to be lured back into it. It was only because I met you that I haven’t gone back”, you cried, gazing up at him with a tear-stricken face.
“Shh, I will think of something. There shall be hell to pay.”
Matthew would be concerned about your wellbeing first and foremost. He would cater to you, cuddle with you, sooth you. But don’t think that would mean he would go easy on you should you step out of line and try to flee from him. When he would say he would never let your ex take you back, he would be indirectly saying he would never allow you to leave him.
Naturally, he would be careful and avoid any explicit rhetoric stating that your place in the world is at his side, but the message would be there, hidden between the lines.
With the legal sway he would hold, he would easily have your ex punished in some capacity. This could range from a fine to a restrain order to spending some time in jail.
China
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A scream pierced the silence of the night, followed by a yell as the attacker was swept off his feet. Yao didn’t hesitate to continue beating the culprit up, even though he was on the ground.
After all, this was a man that had just been a few milliseconds away from dragging you away and murdering you, after doing unspeakable things to you, things that couldn’t be lightly talked about in any context.
“So, you’re the vermin that has been butchering people left and right for the past four months. You’re just as disgusting as I expected”, Yao commented as he brought his foot down on his back in a harsh stamp.
You had taken seat on a tree stump that was standing by. The near death experience and the fight going on in front of you had utterly rattled you. You were numbly staring at the scene playing out, heads in your hands, whole body trembling and eyes wide blown.
He kicked the killer in the side and was rewarded was a grunt and a hiss: “And I’ll fucking kill you too.”
“Sure you will”, Yao drawled sarcastically and pressed the criminals head into the dirt. “Get used to the taste of it.”
Contrary to expectations, Yao would approach the situation of serial killer being after you calmy. Not because he wouldn’t care about you, but rather because he would be far to old to be surprised by such a – in his eyes – trivial thing. And because he would know that letting himself drown in anger or panic would just result in him making grave mistakes – ie. losing you.
Nevertheless, he would never be far off, lurking behind corners, just out of sight of you and the murderer. He would also scoure your online activity, searching for any suspicious doings from other users. Furthermore he would use the opportunity to learn more about you and your strengths and weaknesses.
England
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“Ah, ah, ah. Keep your dirty paws off that”, Arthur chided Jane and firmly grabbed Jane by the ear, harshly tugging there. It wasn’t the most humane treatment of a mortal, that England knew very well. However, he was in a sour mood, your infuriating co-worker being one of the contributing factors to it. Besides, he hadn’t made it one of his life maximas to be nice.
“You dare”, she hissed. When he gave another sharp tug, she yelped and dropped your phone, showing one of your social media profiles. Jane Smithers was persistent, he would have to give her that. Yet that would just be her downfall because she had decided to use that trait to try to ruin your life.
“Oh yes I dare. I dare to not tolerate your disgusting behaviour. Between you and me, we’re going to have a very long talk about your morals.”
She snorted and grabbed his hand.
“I could sue you for sexual harassment. We’ll see if you’ll still be laughing then.”
Oh, he had expected such a threat to come from such a vile person as her. He chuckled lowly – did she really think she could best him when it came to anything.
“And then spend some time in the nick for lying to judge and jury. Don’t think you’d be able to weasel your way out of this. I’m the one here that can have your framed and believe me, I could get you a bloody life sentence.”
She stared at him, uncomprehending, before realisation dawned and she let out a harsh laugh.
“So that is how (l/n) did it. Slept the way to the top.”
“No. (Y/n) has talent, impeccable talent. So unlike you, my dearest never had to resort to the methods you were so kind to mentioned.”
Arthur would see it as his duty to protect you – your physical & mental wellbeing as well as your reputation. So of course he would go after any jealous co-worker that would try to ruin you to any extent. And as mentioned in the snippet above, he wouldn’t be exactly nice about it. Any means would do for him, as long as the risk of his machinations backfiring on him and you would be relatively low.
During the whole process, he would letting you know about everything. It would be his point of proving that the world is a horrible place and that you can only find solace in his company and attention.
France
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Francis was in the kitchen when you came stumbling in, frazzled and panting as If you had just run a marathon. By the way your extremities were trembling and sweat dotted your forehead, he wouldn’t be surprised. The only question was why.
Aside from that, fear danced in your eyes, and that was the only further information he needed to know that something was wrong. Rushing forward, he scooped you in his arms, ignoring the coffee that he had been preparing, and asked you:
“What happened, ma cherie?”
Instead of answering, you leaned your head against his shoulder and wrapped your arms around his torso, taking heavy, laboured breaths, as if you were crying. That was when he realised that you were. It worried him.
Was this something that he had done? What had caused you to become so distressed? Was it something he could fix.
“You don’t have to talk about it now if you don’t want to”, he offered shakily, unsure about what he should do to cheer you up. How could he, when he didn’t know why you were in such a state?
Thankfully, you supplied him with an explanation, one that caused his concern to freeze to ice cold anger: “There is some creep following me. He grabbed my butt when I got off the bus.”
Whoever that devil was, he was going to have hell to pay,
Francis would be enraged that somebody would be so disrespectful of your boundaries and of the fact that you’re already taken. In the brief moments of his more intense bouts of fury, he might do something as rash as to track the creep down and bludgeon him with something, probably a newspaper.
However, his preferred method would be character assassination (this would work especially well if the culprit in question would have a high social status) and verbal abuse. In this case, his revenge could be long-winded and very elaborate.
Russia
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The temperature of the corridor had dropped since the last time he had visited – a testimony to the bad insulation and the approaching winter. Ivan thought it did her justice. After all, she did deserve this after nearly kidnapping you.
Speaking of her, she was sitting near the bars when he approached and when she glimpsed him, she quickly scooted away. Clever; she had learned from what had occurred the last time.
“Come to taunt me again?”, she seethed, curling into a tight, haggard ball of fury. Understandable in her case, however he wouldn’t shed any tears or have any sleepless nights.
“As is customary. I have to elevate your boredom somehow”, he confirmed, grabbing a chair and seating himself opposite her.
She stared at the door at the end of the passage, hungerly tracing it and searching the shadows for any sign of you. Ivan derived pleasure from mocking her: “How foolish are to think I would have brought my lover with me? I didn’t the last few times so why should it any different now?”
“You’re so very attached to (y/n), so I had my hopes.”
“Then I’ll have to forever dash them. That I owe you.”
She snarled at this; face twisted to a nasty frown.
“You know, you and I aren’t so different. So it is even more hypocritical of you to claim the moral high ground. Does (y/n) know even half of the things you’ve done in the name of your love?”
“I detest the comparison. I walk free while you rot in solitude, unloved and unwanted. While you have done everything wrong, I have done what was right where it counted most. You go very far by suggesting anything else.”
Russia would be the one to act the most intense of all the allies. He would have had people that were dear to him ripped away from him in the past, so he invest a lot of energy in insuring that wouldn’t happen to you and him.
That would mean he would go up to 11 in this case. As in, he would either kill this person and dissolve their body in acid or feed it to the pigs. Or he would leave this other yandere to rot somewhere after having dragged them before court for a very showy trail to break their spirit.
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daydreamrry · 2 years
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No because I know there is no way for me to prove this but one of my friends was at a 1d concert back in 2013 (I was one of the young girls back the who thought I was too cool to be into a rising pop band whose target demographic was gushing teens) and before I start the story, I would like to mention that she is like really gorgeous till date, she's married now and still posesses a youthful spirit, deeply in love with her husband.
Anyways, back in the day, she was at the concert and she knew this backstage worker who she was close friends with at the time, and she had baked some deserts and the guy surprised her by telling at the end of the concert that she could meet the boy's if she wanted.
She said she was given a backstage pass but that Niall, Louis and Zayn had chucked themselves into the tour bus before she got there(they apparently did that every show)and she was disheartened about it as her favorite from the band was Niall.
But Harry was talking with a bunch of guys she didn't recognise in one of the halls and the guy my friend knew gave her a hat of his and said that Harry had asked for it and convinced her to give it to Harry herself(she now knows that it wasn't the case, the guy friend was just trying to set them up by giving her his hat that the workers had hidden backstage before the show with the help of some of Harry's close friends. Apparently it was an inside joke between some of them who knew my friend was the only girl coming that day and so they planned to strike something up between H and her).
So anyways, my friend, let's call her S, went there to give him the hat and he was apparently very pleasantly surprised to find it and asked her how she had it and that he'd been searching for it EVERYWHERE. She said something stupid like she was a fan of his style and wanted to steal his clothes(she later mentioned realising how creepy it was, but she was awkward at first lmao, it is THE Harry Styles) and he played along and said she could keep it.
My friend apparently felt very shy at first and opened up later, but continued the conversation and tried to hide her nervousness, she mentioned Harry was very sweet and polite and got so overly excited when he saw the pieces of peach pie she'd brought with herself(bless him! She said she could see his dimples) and that he went into a full rant about how rare peach was as a fruit and how nobody used it in deserts anymore, and S mentioned embarrassing herself majorly when she tried to pull an innuendo about what peaches looked like(ahem ahem) and if that was why he liked them so much.
It was stupid, but Harry was young and cheeky back then so he apparantly found it hilarious!
They then chatted a little bit, S loosened up and Harry let her stand there and rant about her interest in constellations, the myths behind them and how you could barely see them in the city skies anymore (she was into astronomy) and all that, and he probably didn't understand a thing but he ate the pie and listened.
He apparently asked her if she minded if he gave a little bit of it to the staff, joked that it wasn't because the desert was bad but only because the staff workers were working so hard and he was a gem!
Harry then asked S her age, and offered to sit down a little bit with her, she sat down while he talked with a bunch of people, disappeared for a while and returned in casual clothes.
Harry offered to take her to his hotel room because "it was late". He wasn't being pushy about it at all, and S said she agreed because this isn't the sort of chance you get twice in your life.
S is very talkative and knowledgeable about a lot of subjects, one of my most intellectual friends and I'm jealous till date, so she apparently sat with H in the car and went off about English literature (which apparently he seemed more educated about that he comes across as, didn't finish school my ass) and briefly and vaguely rambled about a little bit of "finding yourself" topics which H really seemed invested in apparently and joined in on the convo.
He mentioned having a mental bucket list that keeps shifting so much in his place in his career and life but he just can't let go of it and S was taken aback because Harry never apparently seemed lile the type of person to keep such things, but it was what it was.
They then apparently went into the hotel he was staying at, it was late and Harry attended a call and then gave her brief directions and left alone, and S followed thek and took assistance from the hotel staff and eventually ended up at H's suite.
Now it's where things get...interesting. S, you see, is a person of odd interests who is kind of hard of navigate as a person and that's kind of what people find interesting about her(speaking from personal experience) and so she was very adventurous at the time, 20 years in age and so was Harry I guess, the teen, like most teens are.
So they switched on the tv, S remembered Harry mentioning something about liking romcoms in an interview so she tried to win him over by bringing that up and H offered to do that, but then they ended up watching some stupid B flick movies instead and apparently laughed about the bad direction, acting and plot holes all night and had a blast. They shared champagne too apparantly, she keeps mentioning how kind Harry was and that's where his charm layed.
But then, S said she knew that Harry wanted more, so she wouldn't want to forget the night like that and suggested something kind of less vanilla and like, basically offered to try bdsm with Harry.
Long story short, I won't get into the details but he was kind of tentative about it but also eager to try it out she said, she also said that he looked like he was caught off guard when she was direct about it and laughed commenting positively on her boldness.
She asked Harry what she could use and apparently Harry seemed very prepared and immediately replied that there was a tie in his cupboard, which made her suspect that he'd had experience before, and she like restrained his hands to the headboard and so it goes. She said he was good, nothing extraordinary, said when you have THAT face, you don't need to compensate with great skills in bed. Idk.
She took off the next morning, he was courteous and had his driver drop her off to where she was staying, said he couldn't come because fans were swarming outside his hotel. He also signed the box where she brought the pie in. She had his number for a while but me and her weren't too much in touch back then, when I became a fan of Harry in 2017 I was about to kill her when she said he'd changed his number and that she wasn't in touch with him after that night.
I logged back into Tumblr after 2 years, things are much different now and most of the blogs I used to follow are dead or deactivated now. This one literally has the word "gossip" in it and Harry's name, and since I can't keep a secret to myself, I felt like I'd share it here.
I CAN CONFIRM THIS BECAUSE I AM S!
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slasherbastard · 3 years
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Stockholm Syndrome - Brahms Heelshire
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(gif credit: boodalinski)
Request:  Thank you, so I was wondering if I could get one for Brahms. Where the reader (preferably a girl you can do gn, if you like!!) moves from the states to the u.k for a job. And she comes across Brahms home bc she got lost. And she steps inside and spends the night there and he like stalks her from the walls. And the next morning he like knocks her out and takes her hostage after she tries to leave, bc shes his new obsession. Maybe Stockholm syndrome if you’re comfortable with doing that. I’m not sure if you write smut or anything like that.
Warning: light smut Word count: 2639 Notes: okay okay so I redid the ending and added the smut, that’s the last time I try to write when sleep deprived
Brahms wasn't expecting guests that night but then you stumbled upon the manor. Ever since Greta left to who knows where Brahms had no one to look after him so he was left to look after himself. Now that he didn't have to worry about hiding away from any nannies he was free to roam the rooms of the house instead of just observing from the walls. It was nice for him, being able to eat warm meals whenever he pleased without having to worry about them being freezing out while he waited for the nanny to stray far enough from the kitchen that it'd be safe enough for him to leave the walls and steal the food like a rat.
It was getting late and Brahms couldn't sleep, the loneliness was eating him alive and he was starving because apparently 4 PB&J sandwiches weren't enough for him. Brahms hated to admit it but he missed Greta and needed her - no, he needed someone to just care for him and love him the way she could've. The next thing Brahms knew he was out of the walls and making yet another PB&J for himself, rubbing his tired eyes as he screwed the lid back onto the jar of jam.
That's when he heard the front door open and he froze. There was definitely time for Brahms to grab his sandwich to run back to one of the few entries into the walls but worry filled him as he abandoned the meal and found the hole in the parlour where a mirror once hung. Within a few seconds you walked past one of the slits in the wallpaper and Brahms held his breath as a stranger walked into the kitchen.
"Hello? I'm sorry to intrude but I'm lost and-" She stopped as she saw the freshly made sandwich sitting on the counter and spun around and Brahms watched her every move. He watched as this girl cautiously looked around before grabbing the sandwich and taking a bite out of it, Brahms expected himself to be angry. How dare a complete stranger just waltz into his home and eat his food? But for some reason he wasn't mad, in fact, something about the stranger fascinated him. "Whoever made this, this is a surprisingly good PB&J. Is this place haunted?" She muttered the last bit to herself and Brahms quietly chuckled behind his mask as she put away the items Brahms had left out and finished the sandwich before walking upstairs and continuing to talk to herself, blabbering about how she was giving herself 'horror movie' vibes.
She yawned as she reached the top of the stairs and peaked into the bedrooms still quietly calling out just in case somebody actually was home, and nobody was to her knowledge. Brahms followed her through the walls as she found one of the guest bedrooms and yawned again. The stranger dropped the bag she was holding onto the floor and crawled into the bed, tiredly talking to herself. "Alright, Y/N. Just go to sleep then leave as soon as you wake up." 'Y/N' what a beautiful name.
Brahms quietly chanted the name under his breath as he watched her fall onto the bed and snuggle into the small stream of blankets. He didn't have Greta anymore but that didn't matter because now he has you, Y/N.
--
You opened your eyes as the memories from last night came back to you. You'd caught a bus straight from the airport to what you were hoping was a cheap motel but instead you managed to miss your stop and got dropped off in the middle of nowhere. This would've been fine if it wasn't the last bus scheduled for the night and you weren't suffering from the effects of jetlag after leaving the states for a job you didn't even want in the first place, you tried calling a cab but your phone couldn't pick up a signal.
A lot of the night was a haze. Most of it was spent walking in the dark until you found a manor, then you decided that going inside would be a great idea, then you fell asleep in said manor, and now here you are awake in the manor. You grabbed your phone off the stand beside the bed and realised it was dead before taking it and sliding out of the bed. A sudden loud noise came from downstairs and really woke you up.
You'd been so caught up in your thoughts that you didn't realise someone was standing right next to the bed, until you looked over and saw the towering figure of a masked man. You tried to scream but before you knew it you were waking up again with a raging headache and your arms bound behind a wooden column. You tried to scan your surroundings but it was too dark to see anything, now this place was really giving you horror movie vibes and you weren't going to be the final girl after this.
The ropes around your wrists were starting to burn as you continued to struggle against them, biting your lip as the pain got stronger. You let out a frustrated groan and slammed your back into the column. "Hello!" You yelled out. Now you were 100% certain that somebody was home, what if they were watching? "I swear my damn arms are gonna fall off." You felt the ropes loosen as your arms moved a little more freely but you were still stuck.
"Don't." You stopped and looked up. The light flicked on and a familiar figure stood a few feet away from you just staring at your helpless position on the floor. "You'll hurt yourself." He got closer and you continued trying to free yourself from the ropes as he got on his knees and was only inches away from your face, you hadn't realised he was wearing a mask this entire time - of course, this was the first time you were able to get a proper look at his face. You felt the ropes slip and one of your arms was free but the man was too distracted to realise this as you freed your second arm and held the rope in place. He stroked your cheek and tilted his head slightly, his cold touch made you cringe and he pulled back for a second before continuing. You could hear him whispering something under that creepy mask. "Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, Y/N."
You almost didn't realise you had kicked him until he fell back, your delayed reaction wasn't enough to help you successfully escape as he was onto you the second you had stood up, pulling you back down as you screamed for help even though you knew nobody could hear you. He dragged you over to a small bed in the corner of the room and threw you onto it, you tried to get off but he was on top of you before you could make another move. Through that mask of his you could see his eyes, they looked desperate and hungry for something.
"Are you going to kill me?" His expression softened at those words but he gripped your arms tighter just in case you used this as a chance as to attempt another escape but instead you just watched him, expecting him to either wrap his hands around your neck or maybe stab you but he just watched you.
"Why would I hurt my pretty Y/N?"
You felt your heart stop and your chest ache at the same time. "Who are you?" You tried to wiggle free from his grip but he wasn't letting you go anywhere.
"Brahms."
--
You were supposed to be preparing lunch but you couldn't focus. You don't know how many days or weeks or even months have passed by now but somehow you were still alive. Brahms wasn't shy to show his obvious feelings towards you just hoping that maybe one day you'd return them, maybe you'd stop trying to run away if he showed you how loved you were by him. Brahms hasn't stopped trying to prove to you that you don't need anyone but him, especially considering that he was the only person you were going to be seeing for the rest of your life.
While Brahms wasn't afraid to show you that he loved you, you weren't afraid to show him how much you hated him - although, you weren't exactly sure why you acted that way. Sure, you were pissed that you ended up getting held hostage by a captor who wears a creepy mask the night you arrived in a new country but there was something about him that made you want to stay. In fact, you hadn't attempted another escape in what felt like forever. You didn't want to hate Brahms but there was a part of you forcing yourself to - maybe it was because you didn't want to admit that you had developed feelings for him.
You had no idea if Brahms noticed that your hatred for him was just a façade now. At night he'd cuddle up to you and you wouldn't try to fight him off like you used to, you also stopped ignoring him anytime he came into a room but that didn't mean you were getting friendly with him. Neither of you had gotten to that point in this unlikely 'friendship' where you felt like you could tell this man anything but you did wonder what would happen if you just told him. Sighing, you turned around and bumped into none other than Brahms.
Gasping, you quickly apologised and tried to run off somewhere but he grabbed your upper arm and held you in place. Looking up at him through the eyeholes of at mask you waited for him to tell you that he was hungry but instead he just looked at you. "What is it, Brahms?"
"Come with me." He didn't wait before he dragged you out of the kitchen and eventually you were both outside that loft when Brahms slammed your back into one of the walls. You groaned and cringed in pain before looking at up Brahms.
"What the hell was that-" Brahms threw a hand over your eyes and you froze when you felt hot breath on your neck. "Brahms?" You shook your head, trying to get Brahms to remove his hand from your face but it wouldn't budge as you suddenly felt his lips on your neck leaving light kisses heading up towards your jaw, sucking and biting on the areas. You bit your lip and tried not to react while also focusing on the sensation of his chapped yet soft lips against your skin. You felt your body moving on your own as you tried to get closer to Brahms needing a bit of friction to continue but he denied it and continued his little act before moving away for a brief moment then connecting his lips to yours. Taken aback, you hesitated trying to figure out whether you should kiss him back but before you knew it you'd lost control and your lips were moving in sync with his.
Brahms wanted to feel your body, to explore it, but he couldn't with one hand hiding himself you and the other clutching the mask. He wanted to drop it, shatter that porcelain thing into pieces just so you could see who he truly was without any restrictions. If you reacted badly then glue could fix the mask but nothing could fix what was your relationship.
Just as the two of you were getting into it Brahms broke away and you took that moment to catch your breath before Brahms removed his hand and you could see him readjusting that porcelain mask of his as you turned to run and find your way out of the walls but you stopped when you heard his voice. "Y/N I know you love me." You stopped and heard gentle movements behind you before Brahms appeared in front of you. "You do love me, right?"
You looked up at him with wide eyes at the realisation that he knew that you'd let your guard down ages ago, and you clearly didn't just kiss him for no reason. It was so damn obvious but you still wanted to say no. "Yes." dammit. Brahms looked at you as if he was waiting for you to say something else but you couldn't find the right words. Taking a breath and looking him dead in the eyes you finally spoke. "I. . .I-"
He got closer to you. "Tell me you love me, Y/N." Something within him seemed desperate as he tried to close in the small space between the two of you until your chests were almost connected. "Y/N?"
"I love you Brahms." You don't know exactly what you'd expected in that moment, maybe a hug? Did you expect him to cry? Whatever wholesome reaction you waited for from him never came. Instead, Brahms stuck a hand out for you and you took it without really thinking much of it as he slowly lead you into the loft. Although he was taking his time there was a sense of desperation circling him as he sat down longways on the bed and pulled you onto his lap and held onto you, his hands moving down to your lower back. This whole time his eyes were on you and your eyes were on him. "Brahms?"
"Mhmm?" He hummed, his hands now playing with the bottom of your shirt.
You leaned in close to Brahms' ear and whispered. "If we're going to do this, then I want to at least be able to see who's fucking me." You pulled away and planned to make eye contact with Brahms again but you barely got the chance before he switched the position.
"No." You felt your stomach churn as he said it, his voice had dropped as if he were pissed off but there was still a playful tinge behind it. Brahms wasted no time ripping your shirt off and bringing his masked face down to yours and kissing you through the mask. Suddenly he pulled away and reached over underneath his pillow and you threw your head back and watched as he pulled out a long piece of fabric. "Do you trust me?"
You were hesitant for a few seconds as Brahms messed around with the makeshift blindfold, still waiting for your reply. "Please, Y/N. I promise I'll make you feel good." He whined but you didn't need to be asked twice as you sat up and Brahms covered your eyes with the fabric and tied it off behind your head and pushed you back down onto the bed. You heard a light clank and tried to peak under the fabric to catch a glimpse of Brahms without that creepy mask on but all you saw was his head of dark curly hair as he began planting kisses, making his way down to your core.
Brahms woke up and immediately looked down at the girl in his arms and smiled under his mask and held back the urge to caress her face or move the hair away from her eyes, afraid he'd wake her. Y/N shifted her weight in her sleep and cuddled into Brahms' chest as he continued to hold onto her not daring to move. He wanted to laugh, cry tears of joy, because he really couldn't believe that he finally had the one thing he'd wanted ever since his own parents stopped treating him like their son, he finally had someone who loved him. "You're finally mine, Y/N."  He whispered and nuzzled his face into her hair.
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My Gallant Lad - Part I
So I got a wonderful anon today telling me this is their favourite Lily Rescues James fic, it’s part of my canon marauders fic We Can Be Heroes. But, because it works as a stand alone, I’ll be posting it in 4  parts here. I hope you enjoy it (Lily is very BAMF here but tbh so is James). Set during First Wizarding War...
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James slammed the palms of his hands down on Dumbledore’s desk.
“What the fuck were you thinking?” he said, his eyes a hot mess of emotions.
“Get your oafish hands off my desk, now!” Lily said, recovering from the initial shock almost immediately with a flash of anger.
“Your desk?” James said, taking his hands off the desk, nevertheless.
“I’m using it now, yes, I need to get these mission forms finished and signed before bringing them for filing in the Room of Requirement,” Lily said, looking back at James angrily. “What the hell is your problem, Potter?”
“My problem?” James was furious. “I’ll tell you what my problem is, Evans. My problem is that my bloody wife thought it sensible to visit Walburga Black, the same woman who thinks nothing of throwing a Crucio at her children, whose husband tried to kill Sirius, who detests muggleborns, who tried to – oh fucking hell, Lily! What the absolute, ever-living fuck possessed you?”
She had never seen him so angry. She folded her arms defensively and glared back, wondering how he had found out.
“I’ll tell you exactly what possessed me, Potter,” she said coldly. “My problem is my dickhead of a husband who nearly got himself thrown into Azkaban by the Blacks, but then thought it sensible to attend a Black family funeral, and to top it all, decided to call over to chat to Orion’s heir, as you do! Do I need to explain it further? What exactly was I meant to do? Let you read the letter and let you waltz back in there so that bitch could finish you off, once and for all?”
She was standing up now, and he couldn’t quite understand how someone so slender and uncommonly kind could look so intimidating and fierce within the space of a few seconds.
“That letter was addressed to me, damn it!” James said, his voice rising with irritation. “You had no right opening my post!”
“I don’t care!” Lily said, looking more agitated and feeling guilty. “If you think I would have let you just go there, you’re even more stupid than I gave you credit for!”
“You’re a muggleborn, Evans, fucking bloody fucking…” James’ words ran out as he waved his arm about with rage. “You could have been killed, do you understand me? Killed, damn it!”
“Yes, well, so could you, at least I have more sense! Remus and I knew what we were doing!” Lily shot back, feeling angrier by the second.
“You clearly didn’t, Evans! What you did was grossly irresponsible and wilfully sly! I don’t care what you say, you could have been killed, Evans, for fuck’s sake! When I see Moony, I’m going to kill him!”
James made a frustrated noise in the back of his throat and slammed his fist against the wall. Damn it, he was furious and livid and scared out of his wits and fucking sick of this shit.
“Remus didn’t have any choice, I told him I was going, and he decided to come with me, surely a safer bet! Don’t you dare drag Remus into this!” Lily said.
“Don’t you dare, ever, ever go behind my back like that again, ever, do you hear me?” he shouted.
“You can scream all you like, Potter, you don’t get to tell me what to do!” Lily said, her voice rising angrily.
“Don’t you dare act like you’re the innocent one in this Evans, for fuck’s sake!” James said.
“Don’t you dare raise your voice at me, Potter!” Lily said. “Get out!”
Her voice was starting to wobble which made her even madder.
“You know what? Fine!” James said, gripping his wand tightly and watching as furious sparks flew from his wand tip. “If you want to tell yourself that this is my fault, if you want to lie to yourself so you can  – ugh! Lily, don’t you dare defend this!”
“I’m not listening to your ranting any longer!” Lily said, slamming the book shut and flinging her quills and parchment into her well-worn bag.
She marched past him, livid and upset and boiling with rage. They hadn’t spoken since. James had slept at his parents’ house for a while and now, with Sirius and Remus gone, James had taken to sleeping in his friends’ bedroom. He didn’t like leaving her with only Wormy for protection. They avoided each other at mealtimes. Peter had cringed and disappeared into the relative safety of his bedroom. There was simply no way he could win if he took sides. They were both still furious.
                                                        ***
“Looks like you swapped into an easy shift,” said Edgar Bones, loosening his collar and placing his cloak over his arm. “Nothing much happening, no handover.”
“Thanks,” said James curtly.
“Lily, James,” Edgar said, tipping his hat at them, sensing something was amiss but too polite to bring it up in conversation.
“Edgar,” said James.
“Bye, Edgar, see you soon,” Lily said, smiling at him half-heartedly.
“If it stays this quiet, I’m going to try going for a kip,” said Frank Longbottom, looking at the fireplace one last time and throwing a blanket over himself.
James nodded absent-mindedly, his left hand restlessly tapping on his thigh, shooting Lily fleeting glances when he knew she wasn’t watching. He hated whenever they fought, and this had been their worst row ever. The night stayed quiet, Lily dozed off on the armchair and James watched her. He was worried about her too, she looked pale and she seemed off her food for weeks now. It added to the leaden feeling of guilt he was carrying. It was his fault. He was right, he was damned well right, and he had nothing to apologise for, but he probably would. Because he knew what he was getting himself into when he married her, didn’t he? And wouldn’t he have done the exact same thing in her place, he told himself for the umpteenth time? He transfigured his jumper into a warm, thick blanket and placed it over her gently, doubling it up and kissing the top of her head tenderly. He watched the magical fairy lights on the tree twinkling merrily. He couldn’t have felt less Christmassy. He fell asleep eventually, having transfigured the rug into a scratchy blanket.
He was woken up by a loud shout emanating from the fireplace.
“You better get your sorry arses down here immediately! I’ve just intercepted intel that a couple of Death Eaters are planning an attack on a muggle school bus in the vicinity of Newcastleton!” Dedalus Diggle’s voice crackled.
“Where’s that?” said James, his voice still croaky from sleep.
“Border between England and Scotland. Dumbledore has left a special portkey in his room that means you should be able to get anywhere, immediately. Hurry! There’s nobody else around.”
“Great!” grumbled Frank, sitting up reluctantly, but shoving his feet into his shoes without hesitation. “Typical Dumbledore, never around when you need him!”
“Get some water and rations and let’s go,” Lily said, standing up and sitting back down rather suddenly.
“Alright, Evans?” James said, with a concerned frown.
“Fine, just feeling a bit sick, probably need to eat something,” she said.
“Maybe you should stay behind?” James said.
“No!” Lily said, forcing herself to stand. “It’s fine. We can’t risk it. It’s children, James!”
James nodded immediately. He wanted to apologise, but not in front of Frank.
“Dedalus, can you try and contact a few of the others in case anyone is available to join us? We’ll be with you in a jiffy,” he said.
“No can do, I’ve also had word of another attack planned in Wales, I’m trying to get in touch with Moody as we speak!”
“Got it,” said Lily, looking at Frank and James. “Don’t worry, we’re on it!”
                                                         ***
“This place gives me the creeps,” said James, peering up at the tall trees.
The air felt thick and heavy, the branches seemed to vie with each other to block out the sunlight, suffocating. Thick moss, grey and faded, clung to everything, dried twigs and branches snapped loudly beneath their feet, disturbing the numerous birds whose harsh cries filled the air, as though spying on them, he thought, watching their acrobatic flight.
“Jackdaws,” he said quietly, moving closer to Lily.
Lily gave him a quizzical look.
“That’s their call - a short, loud, ‘kya’ sound, and they have distinctive, beady white eyes,” he added.
“Is there anything you guys don’t know?” grumbled Frank, shooting James a friendly grin.
“Nope,” James grinned back.
He moved closer to Lily, protectively, feeling a threat in the fabric of the forest, ancient memories, secret and forbidding. He had transfigured the portkey into a muggle leather bracelet, insignificant and worthless to any potential Death-Eaters, which he had placed on Lily’s wrist despite her protestations.
“They must be here somewhere,” Frank whispered, holding his wand aloft. “If we just keep walking, we’ll increase the chances of them seeing us.”
“Let’s split up, I’ll hide in there,” Lily said, pointing to a decrepit, large pine, whose gnarly trunk was rotting and held space for one person. “You two get on higher ground. We can all see the road from here. If you spot anything dangerous, send your signal.”
James’ was an owl hooting, Lily’s was the snort of a frightened deer, Frank’s was the harsh screech of a magpie.
“Alright,” James said, turning to look at Lily, feeling awkward and unsure. “Take care, please.”
“You too,” Lily said, her face unreadable.
“I’m glad Alice isn’t on call today,” Frank whispered after a pause, as they moved on carefully. “We just found out she’s pregnant. Bit of a shock really. Took us ages to figure it out, despite her feeling nauseated for a couple of weeks, being off her food, feeling dizzy and tired, you name it!”
He looked excited and pleased.
“Frank!” said James. “Wow, that’s… that’s brave of you, and rather wonderful news.”
He didn’t know what to say.
He stopped short.
Took us ages to figure it out, despite her feeling nauseated for a couple of weeks, being off her food, feeling dizzy and tired, you name it!
The night of Sirius’ twentieth Birthday. They had both forgotten to cast a contraceptive charm. Could that explain…?
“Frank, I forgot something, I need to run back to Lily, go ahead!” James said.
“You okay?” Frank said, seeing James’ face turn grey.
But he was already gone.
                                                       ***
“Lily!” James said, catching his breath.
“What is it?” Lily said, wand ready to shoot.
“Lily, have you done a pregnancy charm?”
“A what?”
“To see if you’re pregnant?”
“No, why?”
They stared at each other for a moment. Understanding dawned on her.
“James,” said Lily, her green eyes searching his anxiously.
“Let me,” James whispered, taking hold of his wife’s slender wrist and turning her palm upwards, he pointed his wand tip at her pulse point. “Gravidam!”
They both watched as James’ wand tip glowed green.
“Fuck,” he said hoarsely, staring at her.
“What does that mean, James?” Lily said.
“It means… it means you’re pregnant,” James said, running a hand through his hair in agitation. “Fucking bloody fucking…”
Lily’s eyes were wide as his words sank in. As his reaction sank in. She turned away from him and swiped hastily at the tears that fell down her cheeks silently.
“We need to…” James said urgently. “Fucking Merlin… fuck, fuck, fuck!”
“I’m sorry, alright?” Lily’s voice broke as she spoke, her lower lip trembling. “I should have been more careful. I didn’t mean this to happen now, God I really didn’t mean this to… I understand if that’s how you feel, James, but I-“
“What?” James said, turning her around to face him and taking her face in his hands tenderly. “Lily, Merlin, I don’t mean –“
The screech of a magpie rent the air and they both jumped.
“Incarcerous!” numerous voices shouted, as thick ropes coiled themselves swiftly around them, James’ wand dropping to the floor.
“Expelliarmus!” a recognisable voice added, James’ wand flying through the air. “Where’s the other one’s wand?”
“Mulciber,” James said, the blood draining from his face.
“I said, where’s your wand, bitch?” Mulciber said, grabbing Lily by the throat.
“I dropped it earlier on,” Lily rasped, staring back at him defiantly. “I can’t find it.”
“Accio Lily Evans’ wand!” Mulciber ordered, pointing his wand at Lily.
Lily’s wand flew out of the thicket behind them. Mulciber leered at Lily.
“Grab hold of them and set anti-apparition wards around them! And get them to de Soulis Castle, now!” Mulciber said to the other Death-Eaters who surrounded them. “The Dark Lord will be very disappointed to find that it isn’t Sirius Black we have captured, just a useless blood-traitor and a vile mudblood. The information we received must have been incorrect.”
“Shut the fuck up, Mulciber!” James sprang forwards in fury.
“Quiet!” Mulciber said, coming right up in front of Lily and grabbing hold of her Jacket collar. “Or she gets hurt.”
James swallowed.
I tried to laugh about it Cover it all up with lies I tried to laugh about it Hiding the tears in my eyes 'Cause boys don't cry
                                                     ***
The weathered remains of the castle loomed, malevolent, as they crossed the bridge over the moat. Fragments of a tower emerged, the holes in its walls reminiscent of a skull. While the forest around it was dry and parched, wilting and unseasonably warm, as they neared the castle gates mist descended on them. The inside of the castle felt damp and cold. Much colder. Mulciber’s breath condensed in front of him as he spoke, frost clung to the corners of the walls, there were no windows in the great hall.
He had seen this room before… where?
The heavy double doors leading into the main banqueting hall swung open, and four men entered, none of their faces were masked.
“Villiers, Wilkes, Rosier, Snape,” said Mulciber, with a cold laugh. “Your very closest allies, I believe? I failed to retrieve the disowned Black heir, but I found these.”
Villiers and Wilkes giggled. Silence descended as another figure entered the room, the five men bowing immediately. Muciber pushed James and Lily forcefully and they fell forwards onto their knees. James watched as Voldemort approached slowly, with a gleeful expression. He zoned in on Snape, Snape who was watching Lily with terror on his face, before carefully schooling it into neutral.
The room.
McGonagall’s grim tones echoed in his mind.
“So, a group of Death Eaters, who appear to have captured Lily Evans, in an unidentified location?”
Divination class. His vision. He had forseen this.
“Lily,” he said quietly, speaking through his teeth. “Do you trust me to get us out?”
He was sure Voldemort could hear his heart pounding.
“If you have an idea, I’m all in,” Lily murmured, watching Voldemort as he drew nearer.
“Leave it to me,” he whispered.
Taking a deep breath, he turned and locked eyes with Severus Snape.
“Fuck you, Severus Snape! You absolute bastard! Stay the fuck away from my wife, do you hear? Don’t you dare go near her, you fucking piece of shit! I despise you, Snivellus! You fucking coward! Bastard cursed Death Eater! Stay the fuck away from her or I’ll kill you with my bare hands!” James screamed.
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