#it's still ok for sitting in but it reminded me i ought to check the thing about mold xD
Note
Hello again~!! I just wanted to ask, since I thought a little about it, and would you like to write something else related to Jack having crush on reader? It can be related to "baddass reader", but it doesn't have to. It's ok if you don't want it too! I was just gushing lately about the idea of Jack being in love, and still denied it, what a tsundere :D
I'm back 🛐
Today's the day I'll finally ask MC out— is what Jack's been saying for the past week. Somehow, something would come up. That and he'd be tongue tied, which he cursed himself for.
"Eighth time's the charm...I guess." He sighed, staring at his reflection. He donned his usual school uniform getup, the same olive green shirt under the white button up. He combed his hair a bit, taming the out of place hairs. Once he was satisfied with the quick brush and touch up, he set out. Maybe another shot at asking you out.
"It wasn't my fault that there was no paint!"
"Shut up Ace, Cater even reminded you before we left."
"If you heard what Cater said then why didn't you buy some paint?" Came the Heartslabyul duo's regular late-afternoon bicker, with the regular shoves and light punches.
Maybe they know where to find you, he thought.
"Hey, you two." Jack called, "Have you two seen MC?" he asked, cool and composed.
"They're probably helping clean up the lab." Deuce responded, placing a finger on his chin, thinking.
"You've been snooping around for MC more often, Jack. Maybe you're...in love?" Ace teased, drawling out the 'o' in love.
"It's nothing like that." He replied without missing a beat. But it's exactly like that, he berated himself. "Defensive? Ow—" Ace continued, getting a quick shove from Deuce.
"You're reading too much into things." Jack raised a brow, still keeping his cool front intact. "See you guys." He left, heading towards the alchemy lab, commanding every cell in his tail to not wag.
"He's pining." Ace deadpanned.
"Come on, we have supplementary lessons." Deuce called, ushering his ginger-haired friend towards the next classroom.
"Alright, these roots go there next to the newt tails. Try not to work yourself too much, I'll send someone to help you if I can."
"Got it. Thank you professor."
Jack heard your voice, he wasn't swooning, definitely not. Your voice sounded like silver bells against his sensitive ears, so beautiful, so—
"Jack Howl, how long do you intend on standing outside my room?" Divus Crewel raised a brow, "Tsk tsk, loitering. I ought to whip you to shape!" the professor's whip cracked loudly. "I'm not up for idle chatter, either help us or leave, surely those muscles of yours have some use." Crewel offered.
"Um, yeah. I can help out."
"Very good. MC! Guide Jack on what to do, I'll be checking the garden. I trust you two can handle it?" Crewel hollered, taking his leave. But not before a warning, "If anything, and I mean anything breaks, spills, leaks. You know what I intend to do."
"Yes professor." You and Jack replied in unison.
"This goes to the acid cabinet." You instructed, handing an opaque aquamarine liquid to Jack, it was neatly sealed in a small vial.
You fluttered from shelf to shelf as quick as you can, steps light and calculated, careful not to knock over any of the alchemical concoctions splayed out on the desks.
"You seem to be in better shape than last time." Jack struck up a conversation, placing the vial on its designated rack. "The headmaster used some healing magic." You replied, "Take those beakers to the sink."
He followed the task. In a few seconds, most if not all of the used beakers were neatly sitting on the lab's aluminum sink. "The nurse told me to be careful still." You continued, running the tap. You handed Jack some soap and brushes. "Wash this for me."
"Yeah, shouldn't you still be resting?" He asked, the scent of soap and the sound of running eater filled the air. "I'd miss out on a lot of stuff if I did, and I can manage." Came your reply across the room, you were busy checking the shelves, presumably you were taking inventory.
"I know but...but you should really rest, you don't look healed." He reasoned, glancing at the bandages and scars that still littered your body. You noticed, covering up what you could with your uniform. "It's nothing."
"I'm done with the beakers, anything else you need help with?"
"We're almost done, let me do a final check on the materials." You said, cautiously climbing down the ladder. He noticed you wince, you still weren't in good condition to work. "Let me take care of you...this, I mean, let me run an inventory for you." Jack slipped on his speech, mentally facepalming.
"Okay? Sure." You handed him a notebook filled with your handwriting. He scribbled some of his own findings, jotting down about how the thorn powders were running out and that the lanternblossoms in stock were wilting.
"This should be all." He handed you the notebook. Almost skyrocketing when you gave him a smile of approval.
"Let me just run this by professor Crewel real quick." You were midway outside the room when you offered, "Actually, can you come with me?"
Yes, a million times yes. As long as you want.
"Sure, why not?" He coolly responded. "After this...uh...I know a good diner off campus." Jack offered.
"A date?"
"No...well, uh. It's not, I-i'm just asking? We can bring the others if you want." Jack stumbled again, almost positive that he blew up another chance at asking you out.
"Oh? Sure, I'll shoot them a text later." You waved off, the two of you setting off towards the botanical garden.
Was it successful? Was it a failure? Jack honestly didn't know.
But he was still thankful that he'd get to go out with you, even if the others would be tagging along.
#twst#twisted wonderland#disney twisted wonderland#jack howl#gn!mc#jack howl x reader#twst fanfic#twst oneshot#twst drabble#twst x reader#fluff#pining#jack howl fluff#gender neutral reader#ace trappola#deuce spade#divus crewel#writing#my writing#answered ask#savanaclaw#jack is a tsundere a tsun tsun dere#mc is the badass hero 🛐#there's no emo leona he was banished to the shadow realm#crewel being a dad (?) kinda
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my desire to turn the heating down because heating prices went up a lot
vs.
me knowing that i absolutely shouldn't turn it down too low because somehow having it below a certain point leads to mold growing and that'll be worse for both money and health in the long run
fight
#capitalism#disabled#money#heating#mold#i'd be happy to wear 5 or 6 layers at all times or whatever and save my precious money#but apparently if the surfaces in my house are below the dew point they'll get condensation and then mold#how rude#especially with heating bills going up by like 50% this year#i just turned the last of the heating off a couple of days ago because i thought it warmed up#but now it went slightly lower again#it's still ok for sitting in but it reminded me i ought to check the thing about mold xD
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A Little Indulgence (Spencer Reid x Reader Smut)
Summary: After returning home, Y/N discovers that Spencer has brought back something from prison.
AN: This was part of the smut fic swap in @imagining-in-the-margins's server! I wrote for the gorgeous pal that is @cardigayn <3 love you <3 Reader is AFAB and uses they/them pronouns!
For my SFW fic entry for the swap, check out Valentines Day For Nerds!
Word count: 3.4k words
Content warnings: Knife kink, thigh riding, daddy kink, mild choking, spanking, biting, smangst
Your name: submit What is this?
The sudsy water masked the cutlery from sight, so Y/N’s hands were only submerged for a split second before they retracted with a gasp as sharp as the blade that cut them.
Spencer had acted fast; he found the first aid kit, deftly picking out the bandages in preparation for determining the right size. It had been his fault really. He was the one constantly sharpening the blades. He was never really satisfied with them, even when they could slice an onion without causing tears or rip through a cut of meat like it was wet paper.
The setting sun fanned over the room as Spencer’s nimble fingers wrapped cotton gauze around Y/N’s hand. They checked the pressure on the cut was tight enough. But they were moving on muscle memory alone. His mind had strayed to Y/N reaching carefully into the sink with their intact hand and retrieving the offender from it. Bubbles dripped off the edge, teasing him with its enticing appearance.
The second Y/N was deemed “fine”, Spencer left them alone. He ran for the bathroom and slammed the door. With the lock turned in, he stripped off his stifling clothes until he was free of his tie, his jacket, his shirt. Cold water splashed onto his cheeks didn’t calm him. The mirror fogged up beneath his nose with his deep breaths, in, out, in, out, his forehead against his reflection’s. His eyes were dilated, as he flexed his fingers over the crotch in his pants. A sigh from deep in his chest relieved itself. Things really had changed since Scratch.
He left the tap on to disguise any cry that might wriggle free from him. In all honesty, Spencer half wanted to weep that he was thinking of such things while his partner had injured themselves. He should be helping them, maybe leaving a quick peck on the bandage because Y/N once told him that a kiss on a cut defied science and made everything better.
His mind cast itself towards self-destruction and a horrendous link between himself and a young man he once knew. Nathan Harris, trapped in his mind, so aware that what he was feeling and thinking was morally wrong, but the poor kid still felt it and he nearly succumbed to it.
Spencer wanted to know if he was still institutionalised. Perhaps if he was more like Gideon, Spencer would have kept track of the victims their cases had come across.
Gideon.
Victims.
He wasn’t a victim. He refused. It was just a small cut from a kitchen knife. It wasn’t as if he was harming anyone. Yet.
He wasn’t Gideon. He wasn’t going to run away with just a note in his absence.
“Spencer?”
Three raps at the door, Spencer heard from Y/N on the other side. He forced one more slow breath out before he unlocked the bathroom door and ripped it open.
“Are you ok?” Y/N’s gaze dropped to his pants then back to his eyes – just for a second but Spencer noticed.
His voice was low as he replied, “I’m alright.”
As if in slow motion, his hand reached out for theirs. They noticed but did not make a comment at his speed. They let him take it, and his thumb grazed over the plaster that covered their injury.
“Are you?” He asked just as quietly.
Y/N looked down again, saw the strain in his trousers. Spencer watched them with cautious arousal as they connected the dots at lightning speed.
“I’m alright,” They said, their voice surprisingly steady as they strained to keep looking at his eyes, “Is there anything I can do to help you?”
They were so genuine. They wanted the best for him. They would do anything for him.
“Maybe not help.”
Confusion crinkled their brow, “What then?”
He should stop here. He should keep what his limits were here a mystery. He shouldn’t.
“Indulge me.”
And he pressed his thumb hard on the cut.
From Y/N, Spencer drew an inhale that was sharper than the knife that cut them. It fuelled his intentions, his other hand brushing their hair over their shoulder before it settled on their throat. It stroked gently, not forceful – for now.
Their body instinctively moved closer, barely an inch but it was enough to tell Spencer two things. One: Y/N was willing to let this play out. Two: their right arm was too far behind their back to be considered comfortable.
“What’s that you’ve got there?” Spencer kept watch of them as his hand slid along their arm, across their trembling skin until he found their fist holding the accused knife.
His entire body slumped with a sigh against them. Carefully, he coaxed them to ease the grip and took the handle into his own power. He saw their throat wobble as they swallowed.
“You ought to be more careful with these.” Spencer held the blade up in the space between them, his reflection more assured now. Y/N was staring at it too, so lost in its splendour that their chest jumped in surprise when Spencer released their throat to fist at their flimsy shirt and pull them closer.
“You’re not particularly attached to this one, are you? Use your words.” He reminded them when they shook their head.
“No,” Y/N whispered and their stomach sucked in as Spencer pierced the shirt with the tip of the blade.
Their bottom lip shook and Spencer restrained his urge to bite it as he said, “You know I wouldn’t hurt you.”
“I do.” The knife began gliding up the shirt as though it were warm butter.
Spencer continued, “You know, unless I wanted to. Unless you wanted me to.”
Y/N nodded, barely though, “I do know.”
“Because you wouldn’t have brought me this if you didn’t know that. But you do. You know just what I need.”
The blade caught at the end of the shirt, stuck for just a second before it flicked up and broke the final links of fabric. The tip of the knife caught on Y/N’s chin and stayed there to sting it. They were shaking. One more shiver out of place and the skin would break but there was no tension in their shoulders or panicked panting. They were as collected as they could be with all their attention on the blade.
“You can’t take your eyes of it either,” Spencer sighed. He was almost jealous of it, but something about this knife was truly captivating. Right now, he was feeling like he was holding it for the first time again – because Y/N was feeling its effects for the first time.
His breath was agitated as he whispered to them, “Tell me you want this too. Please.”
“Daddy,” and Spencer felt his stomach twist with absolute joy as Y/N spoke, “I want this.”
His fist released them, and he watched the confusion cross their face. It was soon replaced with bashfulness as he shamelessly looked at their chest, drinking in how it was framed in the tatters of their shirt. A minor inner conflict ensued as he forced himself to take his time moving from the en suite to the bed, sitting up against the headboard. Once comfortable, the knife lolled in a controlled bounce between his fingers.
“Take that off. Come here.”
After a moment’s processing, Y/N quickly shed the shirt and took the initiative to remove the rest of their clothes. But not their underwear, they knew Spencer liked to be the one to take those off. They knelt over his lap, awaiting his next instruction. One that Spencer was all too happy to give.
“Get off on my thigh.”
Y/N took matters into their own hands when it came to wriggling off Spencer’s trousers and underwear, not even bothering to take them completely off before they straddled his thigh and began grinding against his bare skin. His cock rested against his belly, twitching at the occasional brushing up against the enthusiastic Y/N and leaking eagerly. As his own form of torture, Spencer refused to touch it or ask Y/N to do so. All he could touch was Y/Nand the knife’s handle. He pulled them closer with a hand on their hip. It guided them in their motions once they noticed the knife was at their throat, and their head leant back as they moaned, exposing more for Spencer to target.
Control after such chaos, it was just what he needed. As he dropped his head into Y/N’s chest and kissed the swell of their soft breasts, he lowered the knife.
He controlled the danger Y/N was in, and they let him control it. They trusted him, even if he didn’t completely trust himself.
“Spencer? Daddy?”
Y/N touched their nose to Spencer’s, seeking out the answer to why his grip had slacked. He also noted that Y/N had stopped grinding onto his thigh.
Spencer gave into temptation and he bit down on that delicious bottom lip of theirs. It was sweeter than anything he’d ever tasted with the moan from their throat as a garnish. The knife rested at the slope of their neck.
He released their lip to murmured against it, “I could fuck you with the handle.”
Their nose bumping against his as they shook their head, Y/N whined, “No.”
“No?” Eyebrows raised at the audacity they had, to use him then deny his words.
But then Y/N opened their eyes, pleading with them as they said, “Next time.”
They were touching his hand now, the same spot where they had cut themselves and their bandage pressed into each other with their fingers linked.
“I want your cock in me now, and I want you to hold the knife against me. Please, Daddy.”
All sense of Spencer’s gorgeous hazel eyes was lost as two rings around his pupils. His jaw went slack as he processed their request, his laboured breath falling from his lips. Finally, he took in a deep breath, straightening up his back and resuming his role as the Dominant again.
“You’re getting really greedy, baby. You should watch your mouth.”
Y/N continued to plead with their puppy dog eyes, leaning close to him. Their bodies were pressed as close as they could be. Spencer’s trousers were still frustratingly in the way so he kicked them off.
Luckily for Y/N, Spencer was greedy too. The promise of “next time” is what let them off their backtalk this time.
He quickly unhooked Y/N’s bra, letting them be the impatient one to throw it aside. His sitting position adjusted itself against the headboard before he allowed them to sit in his lap again. Once comfortable, he dotted their chest with purple, the knife keeping their back arched into him.
Their panties were grazed by the knife before they were merely pushed aside and Spencer stroked through their lips with a tactile fingertip, sharing a groan from how wet they were. He could never tire of that, or of Y/N sinking down on him, how warm and welcoming they were, how they clung to him like a limpet.
Y/N began to move. Every motion was more longing and enrapturing than the last, Spencer finding it hard to keep up and hold back. His free hand continued rubbing on their thigh, spanking their skin and counting each one until the spot beneath his palm was red. Every time, Y/N gasped and jumped, the blade pressing harder into them.
“Touch yourself,” Spencer rasped against their skin. He leant back to make way for their clumsy fingers, rubbing at themselves covetously.
“Please, Daddy.” Y/N cut themselves off and their cheek found the flat side of the blade to press itself against, now warm from their flushed contact, “Can I cum please?”
“Yes, you can, cum for me.”
The need to meet them in completion overpowered him and Spencer abandoned the knife to grab them with both hands, fucking into them harder as they cried out for him. Their nails dragged across his shoulders and he welcomed the pain from each fingertip. It only spurred him to move faster.
“I’m gonna fill you up.”
Y/N nodded eagerly, their stamina waning before picking back up at the notion, meant in no time at all he was keeping his word. They beautifully reached their orgasm with Spencer’s fingers tight around their throat once more, bringing on his own orgasm soon after with their snug cunt milking his cock for all it was worth.
Using his grip on their neck, Spencer pulled Y/N down against his lips and slurred into their mouth, “Thank you.”
Then he lifted his hips up, enjoying the pleasure flaring up as he did so. His shuffling down the bed was lacklustre but it worked enough for when he fell onto his back. Bringing Y/N with him, he could feel his cock slide out of them and something warm and wet dribble onto the top of his leg. If only he had the energy to plug it back in there, push it back with his tongue. All he could do now was lift himself up a little, reach over Y/N and pull their underwear back into place. As Y/N said earlier, “next time”.
“Thank you.” Spencer brushed Y/N’s hair off their back, letting it tangle with his. “Thank you. You’re so good to me.”
“And so are you… D’you need anything?”
“I’m good, you?”
“Me too.”
As his arms spread out on the bed, Spencer’s right elbow found the knife again. Too late, it was sliding off the edge, a muted clatter against the carpet reaching their ears just moments later. A few seconds later, Y/N lifted off him, their sweaty skin clinging to each other as if to plead for them to stay, but it was Spencer who let out the noise of complaint this time. Y/N was quick though. They simply moved the knife into the bedside drawer and closed it before landing beside Spencer, wriggling to get that proximity once again.
Spencer found himself kissing the palm that cradled his face, breathing it in, plaster and skin and all. Soon he was curling into them, his face hidden in their neck as he wrapped his body around them. There were a few more grunts as sporadic pangs of pleasure rippled through them both, until they finally settled still. Y/N combed their fingers through Spencer’s thick hair, tugging just how he liked it.
He didn’t know really how to describe it. He just felt warm.
“Spencer?” Y/N’s voice was a little above a whisper, a crack chipping the last syllable.
“Yeah?”
“Would you…” They tilted their chin up to the ceiling. Spencer didn’t push; he gave them time, just as they had done, to answer.
“Would you let me shave you one day, please? With the straight razor?”
Spencer’s smile grew back on his face, “Of course.”
“And would you use the knife handle on me next time please?”
“Why were you more nervous about asking to shave me?” Spencer kissed where a faint ring of teeth marks met their neck, feeling it rumble with their giggling.
“I don’t know!” They covered their eyes with their hand.
To encourage them to come back out of their little shame cave, Spencer kissed where his lips fell and nodded, “Yes, next time, I’ll use the handle, Y/N.”
“We’ll have to make sure you don’t cut yourself.”
They cared for his wellbeing. He should too.
For now, at least, things weren’t so bad. Clarity from his orgasm told him that the guilt would set in by tomorrow. But he’d address it then and let the final dregs of their indulgence rock him to sleep.
---> ---> ---> ---> --->
BONUS
Tonight was a transaction. Spencer was midway through his side of the bargain – keeping Y/N comfortable. They didn’t seem to mind the granite of the countertop pressing into their back as Spencer ate them out with gusto, his knees protected by a pillow against the tiled kitchen floor. His hair was tugged at the roots. Sometimes he felt Y/N’s heel tap against his back as they balanced on one foot to use the other to bring him closer. It was largely ineffective, but it pleased him that they weren’t completely in control of their needy actions.
His lips parted from theirs, and they whined at the cool gentle air he blew against them. They both knew that Y/N knew they weren’t allowed to cum without permission. They both knew that this wasn’t the end. But only Spencer knew where this was going next.
Leaning back on his heels, he pulled open the drawer beside Y/N. His hands were careful as they retrieved the knife he was after. He’d memorised its place in that drawer. Once again, Y/N was trapped in a stare. Their gaze followed the knife with confusion as Spencer began to wrap a hand towel around the blade.
When Spencer caught sight of this, he raised an eyebrow and waved the handle around in a circle. “You did say next time.”
A hint of guilt crawled around in his gut. Perhaps they would think he was pressuring them to keep a promise they made in a daze of hormones.
But Y/N simply whispered, “I did. I also said we’d have to make sure you don’t cut yourself.”
“I’ve thought about this already,” Spencer said as his fingers held the blade - safely encased by the towel.
“Me too.”
With his eyes as wild as his hair, Spencer moved the end of the handle across their sex, tentatively stroking it across where their cum and his spit met. Then he took a leisurely pace to push it inside them. His eyes fixated on the way they clenched around it, unconsciously wanting more while they restrained their other movements with stiff knuckles grasping at the countertop.
“How’s that feel?” Spencer said quietly, his hot breath hitting their skin as hard as the curves of the handle pressed against their walls.
Through their exhale, Y/N replied, “It’s good.”
“Yeah?” Spencer began pulling the knife out slowly once it reached halfway inside of them, “Not as good as me though.”
“No, never.”
Right answer.
He pushed it back in, until the edge of the blade was an inch from their soaked sex. Then he released it.
“Spenc-”
“Stop. Keep it there. I know you can.”
The hand towel dropped, untangled and fell off the blade.
Spencer leant back again and watched how the blade quivered with them now, reacting to their body just as they reacted to it. “Careful now. If you don’t hold it still, you could cut yourself.”
Y/N let out a groan of frustration but they listened to his demands. Soon the knife was near still. There was still a familiar tremble that shifted it from inside of them, but it was nothing to worry about yet. Licking his lips, a hint of their taste still on them, Spencer reached out to their clit and began rubbing it. He delighted in Y/N’s groans.
“That’s it, keep that cunt tight.” Eyes still on them, he pulled out from his underwear his cock and stroked his hands in time together. It thrilled him to no end, his pleasure only increased by theirs. “Does it feel good?”
“Daddy, please,” Y/N bit their lip, unable to look at what Spencer was doing to them.
“Look at you, trying to keep that still in you, all tense, when I’m teasing your pretty clit. What’s it like knowing you want more but you can’t have it?”
They were struggling, the blade slipping out millimetre by millimetre despite their best efforts. Their hips jerked as they would when riding him. But their thighs were forced apart lest the shining metal between them bite worse than their Daddy. They were simply too aroused to do a better job, poor baby.
“You know how I like looking at them.”
Spencer leant close, breathing in their earthy smell, and he pressed a kiss on their clit. His lips parted for him to lick at it twice, to feel their most sensitive parts twitch against his mouth again. He looked at their face as his finger found the blunt tip of the knife and pushed the handle back up into them. Y/N’s mouth fell open, a ragged gasp shaking at the back of their throat. Spencer looked back at the knife just in time to see a drop of their cum slip down the edge of it. His cock twitched. His teeth bared in a smile.
“But this view is my favourite.”
#spencer reid#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid imagine#smut#criminal minds#criminal minds smut#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds x reader#my writing#r: female#r: afab#r: gender neutral#wc: 2k+
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stolen patagium (piglin!techno x bat!reader) Part 1
~3k words. Definitely not for those who cannot handle sad well.
For you, your wings were part of your whole identity. They were your pride and joy, and you flaunted them everywhere you could. You adored your near-transparent leathery wings that stretched around you like a blanket.
However with your wings came a few setbacks. Because of your hybrid, you were nearly blind, only able to see silhouettes at best. Sound was something that surrounded you- it helped you see, or rather know where things are. Due to this, you relied heavily on friends to help you through unfamiliar places, though you had nearly mapped out all of the towns nearby from flying around on your own.
You were currently laughing and shrieking with Tubbo and Niki, playing in the small spring near your house, splashing and chasing each other merrily. The day was sunny and warm, perfect for a short outing before the upcoming storm tore through the land. Sitting a ways away was Phliza, Techno and Tommy were talking about god knows what while Wilbur sat soaking in a small alcove in the pool, having had enough of being dunked into the water by you and Niki.
Your head was suddenly splashed with cold water, causing you to shriek and squawk awkwardly as Tubbo laughed and Niki moved quickly away from you, trying to escape the accusation you would inevitably shout at her, half shouting and half laughing to never, ever do that again. As the day melded into the early evening, the sunlight was disappearing ever more as thicker storm clouds rolled in front of it. Almost immediately after the last cloud covered the sun, the thunder started and the clouds lit up momentarily with lightning that had yet to hit the ground. You groaned as you knew this was a sign to head back into the safety of your own home. Frowning you looked at the vague figure of Tubbo and Niki before asking them if they’d help you get back home without tripping over spare rocks and twigs.
“I can’t, I’m meant to help Tommy and Phil pack up the picnic we had,” Tubbo replied patting your back before moving to help the aforementioned people with said picnic. You looked towards Niki while sighing,
“It’s ok Niki, I know you don’t know the way back to my house.” She apologised before quickly helping me out of the water, said her goodbyes, and promptly left to her own home. You looked around at the remaining figures before making your way over to Techno himself intent on asking if he could help guide you home. Halfway over to him, it started to rain, causing the ground to quickly become slick. Your own wings curled tighter into your body, the cold droplets of the rain feeling like ice on your skin.
You paused, knowing that you would most likely slip and fall if you continued without a guide and shouted, “Techno! Can you come here please?”
His figured seemed to appear out of thin air as he approached, making enough noise to let you know he was there in case you hadn’t seen him approaching.
“Yes?” his reply came out roughly, most likely a little sore from talking nearly all day.
“Do you think you could help me get home? There’s so many stray stones and twigs that I’ll trip at least three times if I try to get there myself.” Your voice was pleading, and you were half preparing to crawl home in case he said no before-
“Yea, I’ll help you.”
You breathed out in relief, “Thanks so much! You don’t know how much you’re helping me.”
He simply looked at you and made an expression your half-blind self could assume was a smile, before setting his arms on your shoulder, and pulling you forwards into the more dense woods that lead to your house. Every now and again he’d call out that there was a fallen stone or branch, and helped you clamber over them when you asked for assistance. The rest of the walk back went fairly okay- or as okay as it could be when the rain came down harder, sheets of it hitting the ground so loud it was hard to hear your own voice, let alone his. You briefly lost your footing going down into the valley your house sat in, and Techno’s strong hands helped pull you back up. It was now no longer an aimed walk back to your house, as now you were both walking as quick as was safe for you, trying desperately to get out of the rain as fast as possible.
Once reaching your covered porch, you quickly set your outdoor fireplace up and lit it, intending to dry your clothes a little bit before going indoors. You looked over at Techno, smiling, “You ought to stay for a little to see if the rain lets up before you head home.”
He began to protest that he would be fine, that the wait would only make it more wet outside, when you shushed him and reminded him that the last thing he needed was to get sick from wet, cold clothes. Grabbing a set of plain, dry clothes, you paused, before grabbing a second set for Techno. Turning back to the fire pit, you handed him the clothes and motioned to the clean, dry towels near him saying, “There’s a small area on the other side of the porch you can towel off on and change into dry clothes, I promise I can’t see that far away especially in this heavy rain,”
You chuckled at the darker shade that crossed his face when you finished talking, and promptly went to grab a rack to put near the fire to dry out the wet clothes. Dragging it over, you noticed that he’d moved, presumably to do as you suggested. You stood, not wanting to wet the seats with your dripping clothes when you faintly heard footsteps belonging to Techno come closer. Turning you spotted his large figure in the dry clothes you’d provided, a towel thrown around his hair.
“Feel better?” You asked, smirking.
“Much,” he replied before sitting back down on the same couch he was on earlier. You nodded, before going over to change your own clothes. As you stripped of the uncomfortable clothes, you felt the hairs on your neck rise. There was something watching you. Not one to ignore instinct, you quickly wrapped yourself in the towel, not bothering to grab the wet clothes as you walked quickly over to Techno.
When he looked over towards you, you could tell that he was blushing at your form, his mouth opening to ask before-
“There was something watching me over there, I figure that I’d be better off near you than alone,” He shut his mouth quickly before nodding, looking away to give you privacy as you changed near him, feeling much safer than before. Clearing your throat you sat next to him, signaling that you were done with changing. He looked over before chuckling at your disgruntled expression. You tended to be fairly suspicious of everything since you couldn’t trust your sight and with the storm raging next to you, you were down to three senses, none of which were very helpful.
As the night dragged on, so did the storm. You and Techno had both since moved inside, the hairs on your neck having risen again. This time Techno was aware of the presence as well, which calmed you to know that you weren’t going crazy. Having moved inside, of course then did the rain begin to let up momentarily, letting the dim shine of the moon come through the clouds. It seemed the the storm had let up, and you looked over to Techno, knowing that he would want to go home as soon as possible.
“Would you mind looking around the house to make sure that the thing that was watching us is gone before you go? It’d help me out a lot,” You questioned, using your puppy eyed-look to influence him more. He just looked at you flatly before agreeing and letting you pamper him a little more before heading back out.
__
After agreeing to look around your house, Techno finally managed to escape your doting nature by saying that the more he waits the more of a chance the thing watching you and him had left.
You grudgingly let him go, and he inspected the perimeter of your house thoroughly, before out of the corner of his eye he saw a shift in the trees a few yards away from your house. He tensed, honing in on the figure before quietly equipping his sword. At the reflection of the moon on the enchanted blade, the figure quickly shrieked and took off, with Techno hot on it’s heels.
__
You heard him yell out, “Found it!” before taking off, and you assumed that it was taken care of. You relaxed your tense shoulders before moving to clean up the small mess of food you and Techno had made earlier. Once done, you figured that it wouldn’t hurt to have a little extra protection tonight, as you drew the blinds and curtains, before leaning chairs against the doorways of the house and locking the doors.
Content that you were safe enough, (as you could never be completely safe in this area) you blew out the main candles before going and laying on your makeshift nest, which consisted of various grasses and hay, as well as a soft pillow given to you by Niki. As you finally drifted off, your winged form relaxed wholly, completely unaware of the dark figure that had been in your house before you had even come home.
__
Techno was on a high of adrenaline, having chased and successfully caught the dark figure. After catching and interrogating the creature, he was running as fast as he could back to your house, praying you were still awake or at the very least, able to defend yourself well enough until he got there himself.
__
You awoke to a rough set of hands on your shoulders, trying to tie you down to the bed. You thrashed, unable to see a thing, but able to locate just about everything in the room from the sound you were making. There was someone on top of you, pinning you down with their own weight. A cruel whisper in your ear promised to be gentle if you stopped fighting, making your blood run cold. You feared the worst, rape, death, perhaps both- but nothing prepared you for the icy ball of dread that dropped into your stomach as the stranger caressed your wings. Your eyes teared as you screamed as loud as you could, hoping the noise would either catch the creature off guard or alert someone to your situation, but the creature ignored your scream, intent on checking that your wings would indeed catch a fair price.
__
At the sound of your scream, Techno ran even harder, having told Phil of the situation as he was sure the he would need backup to either comfort you or kill the creature after your precious wings.
__
After a frantic message from Techno, Philza was on his way over to your house as fast as possible, slicing through the air with his wings as he fought against the wind currents- they were strong because of the storm but Phil was stronger, intent on helping his friend, and your precious wings as he knew exactly what the horrible creatures were after.
__
You were struggling against your binds as the creature had decided that your wings were worth the fortune he would get selling them, before getting off of you and grabbing a metal saw. You blacked out when he made the first in-out pull of the saw, the pain shooting through your body so intensely that you would rather have died than experience again. Even as your body blacked out, you could still feel the drag of the saw’s teeth in and out on the base of your wing. Your screams were no longer out of fear, but of unimaginable pain when you woke up.
As the man sawed through the wing, you’d managed to run your voice hoarse and screamed until you’d vomited. Instantaneously, you felt a weight off of your shoulder blade, and you knew immediately that your wing was gone.
Your mind was reeling, hardly acknowledging the pain of the man behind you beginning to saw your other wing, and the only thing your mind could think of was no. Your wing was gone. It was just gone.
Your screams fell silent as you finally, finally, blacked out completely, body giving up from the overload of pain and pure unadulterated terror.
__
Techno reached your house, with Phil swooping in hard, and the both of them could smell the sickening scent of blood and vomit before even opening the door, quickly disregarding the chair that was leaned against it, rushing into the small walled off area you called your bedroom.
There, on the hay was your body, prone and mutilated. The window next to it was shattered and empty, the thief long gone with your wings in arms. Techno could barely take in the scene before him- he and Phil had both seen bodies ripped apart, but the sight of you made Techno feel as if he was back in time, younger, seeing the first dead body in his bloody history. But you couldn’t be dead, you were still gushing blood as he leaned down to press his hands against the- the stumps left from where your wings used to rest. He took one look at Phil and Phil knew that he was not going to be the one who looked for your thief. Sighing heavily, Phil sent a nod towards Techno as he shot out through the window, in pursuit of your wings.
Phil quickly made a makeshift swing around his neck before carefully placing your body inside of it. After securing your lifeless body to himself, he shot into the sky, heading towards one of the only people he knew could help- BadBoyHalo’s house.
__
BadBoyHalo was not necessarily suprised at Phil’s arrival at his house, but he was horrified at was Phil brought. Looking at your mangled form, Bad pushed away his horror and tears as he forced himself to attend to your body, bandaging your stumps before moving on to the welts from the rope you’d been tied with, to having Phil help move your body so he could check that the more intimate parts of your body had not been hurt. Ordering Phil around felt strange to Bad, but Phil was more than willing to scrounge up the resources for a healing potion.
__
You woke up screaming, sending Phil rushing into your room to check on you. At the sight of another person you trembled, scooting back quickly, maneuvering your wings out of the way-
You froze. Phil could tell by the look in your eyes you’d remembered. Your chest began to heave as you looked over your shoulders to find nothing. A sob tore it’s way through your chest, the sound involuntary as your eyes beheld what was left of your wings. Nothing. You whimpered, and locked eyes with Phil, and before you could blink he was at your side, hold you as you screamed and thrashed into his body, bawling your eyes out. He whispered to you that it would be okay, that they’d be back, but you couldn’t listen, bile rising from the back of your throat at the thought of never being able to fly again.
Now that your body wasn’t running on pure fear you could feel every pulse through what was left of your back, the raw feeling of the bandage pressing harshly on you.
Having been woken up from the long night of bandaging you up by your screams, Bad finally managed to come in to give you a healing potion and, mercifully, a sleeping potion. Taking both gratefully, you quickly lie back against Phil, crying into his side as he tried his best to comfort you.
__
When Techno finally found your wings nearly a week later, the things he’d done to the thief were unspeakable. Needless to say, the thief was in now in pieces, and what was left of the man was buried alive. He’d been seeing red the entire time- he could hardly kill the man slow enough.
He was now gently wrapping your wings in the softest cloth he’s managed to find at the nearby village, taking extra care not to harm them. He fixed a sort of harness to himself so he could carry the wings on his back before heading back to you- or what he hoped would still be you.
__
Your thoughts were filled with poison. You’d been moving through the week without life, a mere husk of your former self. Hardly eating, and spending most of your time sitting on the roof of Bad’s house-clinic staring at the sky with a dead expression. You were no longer upset- you coudn’t feel much of anything past the pain and mourning of your wings.
You’d spent the next few day doing the same before you were woken in the night by a noise. Quickly scrambling up, you looked around your still-lit room, searching for the intruder. Your heartbeat quickened as you left the room, anxious to avoid anything that could even hint towards the night you’d lost your wings. Stepping into the kitchen-den area, you saw Phil and Bad both awake, speaking to-
Was that Techno? And what was in the massive bag he was holding so carefully? Clearing your throat, all of the men looked at you- and yes, it was Techno they were talking to, though at the sight of you, Techno quickly left with his bag, making sure the bag didn’t hit the walls or ceiling. Shifting your eyes back to Bad and Phil, you worked up the nerve to ask the question burning through your lungs. They told you that there was going to be an important discussion about what would happen after Techno returned.
“What now?” you rasped, voice thick from mourning and restless sleep.
It was silent except for the return of Techno into the room, as Phil sighed. Locking eyes with Techno and Bad, he seemed to steel himself before turning to face you fully.
“If it were possible, would you want your wings back?” he asked quietly, and my heart froze. To have my wings back? To have what was missing from you returned? You choked back a sob- steadying yourself on the counter next to you, barely keeping from collapsing onto the floor. Suddenly the pieces fell into place.
The bag held your wings. You gasped a sob out as the men looked at you. If. If they could re-attach them. You faintly nodded, feeling yourself separate from the situation. You couldn’t dare hope for something like that.
Managing to reassert yourself you looked at them, helpless, and whimpered a pitiful, “Please,” before you could convince yourself otherwise. Techno moved closer to you, before abandoning his hard exterior in favor of comforting you.
__
Days later, your wings were reattached. A week after that you moved to newly built house near both Techno and Phil. Months passed and you were finally strong enough to relearn how to fly. A year passed, and you were nearly as healthy as you were before what had now been dubbed ‘the incident’.
____
should i bother with a part 2?
#dsmp#techno x reader#c!techno#c!philza#c!badboyhalo#angst#c!techo x reader#dsmp fandom#technobabe#dilfza#winged!philza#tornpatagiumpt1
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Easter TAG
@womble1 gift for @janetm74
Blanket
Precious
Crown
It was one of those days, one in/one out, a continuous rotation of Tracys coming and going. Virgil had just made it back from the arctic, scooping up Thunderbird 4 from its own mission on the way home. Scott and Alan glanced up from the desk where they had been conversing with John’s hologram. He should have seen it coming by the way their eyes adopted that concerned crinkling around the edges, really highlighting the similarities between the two of them despite the age gap.
“What?” his gaze danced from one pair of blue eyes to the other, “what’s wrong?” He glanced down at his shirt in case he had buttoned it up wonky or smeared something spectacular down it without noticing. Coming up blank he was back to requesting more info from those present
“Seriously - What?”
Scott stood up from behind the desk, his hands clasped in front of him like a politician about to deliver a tough message.
“Well don’t take this the wrong way but, well…” he dithered around the sentence as if not quite sure which way to best approach it.
“You look like Shit Virg!” Alan cut in, having no such qualms.
Virgil pulled his arms across his chest defensively, it was a bit harsh coming from someone who regularly slept in their clothes.
“Thanks, I love you too, you little scrote!” he scowled across at the brat.
“OK, language. Both of you!” Scott waded into the fray, holding his hands up to placate both parties. “But honestly Virgil, you do look like you could do with a rest.” this just got a derisive shrug and an unintelligible grunt in response. “You look frozen, are you coming down with something?” Scott advanced towards him, stretching out his arm to lay a palm on Virgil’s forehead, but Virgil saw it coming and side stepped away from the advancing hand.
“I’m fine, it was the arctic, it was cold, big shock, quit pawing at me.” Even as he said it, Virgil knew he was being needlessly snappy, but the damage was done and he saw Alan and Scott exchange a look.
“Ok, fair point. Alan and I were just on our way out, so why don’t you just take a seat while we go and sort this one out.” Scott was talking slowly, moving in carefully and steering Virgil to a couch like he was a scared animal that might bolt or lash out. “It’s just a little support job for a research station, we’ll be back in no time. Here, have a blanket, I can literally see you shivering.” blanket deployed, Alan and Scott backed away, while Virgil remained scowling on the sofa, muttering about how he was absolutely fine, but tellingly he didn’t move from his loosely constructed blanket nest. He must have zoned out slightly, as the next thing he was aware of was the familiar rumblings of Thunderbird two launching and he hastily pulled up the comms array over the coffee table to give Scott a piece of his mind as Gordon strolled into the room.
“Scott! You took my bird! What the hell?!”
“Hello to you too! And I think you’ll find they are all International Rescue vehicles, besides we need the Pods - and before you start, no, you were not in fit state to fly. Anyway, it’s a perfect chance for Alan to get some more flight hours in’’ as Alan’s face popped up alongside wearing a massive grin.
“Hey Virgil! The research station is in the middle of nowhere, there’s no way I’ll scratch it - I promise!” The little sod was enjoying winding his brother up far too much, they both knew he was a competent pilot, but that wasn’t the point. Virgil huffed and shuffled about a bit, wrapping his arms around himself, maybe he was a little cold but he wasn’t going to admit it. Too late though he had been spotted.
“Seriously Virgil, wrap yourself up, I can see you shivering from here” Scott's worry mode had been engaged, even as he got steadily further away, there was no escaping it. “Gordon keep an eye on him will you, I think he might be coming down with something”
“Sure think Capitano!” Gordon punctuated this with a sloppy little salute as the connection blinked out. “Come on then big guy, let’s get you tucked in nice and snug” he threatened as he advanced with malicious intent.
“For the last time, I am absolutely fine! But fine, look I’m using the blasted blanket!” he sulkily pulled the blanket tightly around himself until he resembled a giant burrito “Happy now!” he demanded with a scowl.
“O…..K, I’m going to leave you and your mood to get better acquainted, you want a coffee?” Gordon went to leave in the direction of the kitchen, barely resisting the urge to laugh at the image Virgil was presenting.
“Yes” came the somewhat deflated reply “……please” all the fight evaporating as quickly as Thunderbird ones vapor trails.
By the time Gordon had navigated Virgil’s needlessly complicated coffee machine and made his way back to the lounge, the blanket burrito had toppled sideways on the sofa and appeared to be asleep. Gordon began to think that maybe Scott was right about the predictions of ill-health on the horizon. He was just wondering if he ought to reposition the blankets a bit since he couldn’t see Virgil’s face and there was a distinct lack of the usual snoring, when a call from Lady Penelope came through on the central display.
“Ahh Good afternoon Gordon,” came Penelope’s clipped accent
“Howdie Lady P! What can we do for you today?” Gordon spun around, his blanketed brother instantly forgotten.
“Oh, it’s nothing urgent today thankfully, I was just……..” she faltered distracted by something “Forgive me Gordon, but I have to ask, what exactly is that behind you?
Gordon spared a brief glance back at the blanket pile that presumably still contained his brother.
“Oh that, Virg is just sulking because Alan took his ride and so he’s proving that he’s not cold…..yeah it makes sense somehow” he petered out.
“Oh I see,” Penelope takes this in her stride as she does all things, “Should it be glowing though Gordon?”
“Glowing?!” he jumps slightly “Oh no, he hasn’t” with no further preamble Gordon dived towards the fleece fortress, tugging at a corner. “Come on Virgil, hand it over, I know you’ve got it in there” He found a gap and plunged his hand inside the fabric, reaching towards the glowing epicentre.
“Noooooooo, gerroff!” it was muffled, but it was clear that Virgil was not going to give in quietly. “It’s MINE! My precious! You can’t have it!” He wriggled about madly thrashing to try and get away from Gordon, who scrapped as well as any younger sibling in history.
“Give it up Virg! They’re fine!” the “accidental” application of Gordon’s knee to unmentionable regions resulted in a muffled “ooof” and a sudden reduction in the amount of resistance. Gordon was able to extract his prize and held the remote piloting device up in triumph for Lady Penelope to see.
“He’s always like this when they take Two out without him, he just hovers over the remote controls, adjusting things. Alan thought Two was haunted the first time it happened, I’m not sure he doesn’t still partly believe it still is now.”
Lady Penelope hid a giggle demurely with one hand “Don’t you think you ought to check he’s ok in there, he doesn’t appear to be moving” she asked.
Gordon nudged the immobile lump with his knee “ you’re alright in there aren’t you big guy?” he asked, before sitting himself on top of the blanket mound with all the stately composure of a king ascending to his throne.
Theres an unintelligible groan before Virgil wriggled enough to free his head from the fabric confines “Stupid Fat Hobbit! Ughhh”
“Oh yeah, he’s fine,” Gordon confirmed, a megawatt smile breaking his regal composure “He’s just banned from any more Lord of the Rings binges.” Gordon turned to look down at his brother and affectionately ruffled his hair, making it stand out at all angles like a rumpled crown.
At this additional indignity, Virgil put all his remaining energy into a final abrupt wriggle that sent Gordon Toppling from his perch “Get off me pipsqueak!”
“Even the smallest person can change the course of the future!” Gordon proclaimed from his place on the floor just before a cushion was dumped on his head.
“Have you lost the plot Gordon?!” another pillow was dumped on him to punctuate the remark.
“Not all those who wander are lost!” could just be heard through the growing pile of cushions
They both seemed to have forgotten Lady Penelope's holographic presence floating above them. She coughed gently to draw their attention.
“On that note I think I will leave you both too it, I’ll call back later to speak to Scott,” this drew their eyes away from the developing pillow fight. She cleared her throat delicately once more, gave a little smile and said “Maybe I should quote Frodo Baggins and remind you “It is useless to meet revenge with revenge: it will heal nothing.” before you damage the soft furnishings any further.” and with that parting wisdom her image blinked out of existence.
“Did she just?….” asked Gordon
“Yes, yes I think she did” said Virgil, shaking his head slightly, either in disbelief or despair.
“What a GEEK!” snorted Gordon, still half-heartedly trying to free himself from the scatter cushion landslide. Then, resigning himself to his current location, he flopped back into the pillows, letting out a happy little sigh. “She really is perfect isn’t she?” Virgil decided the only sensible response to this was to deposit a final cushion onto the top of Gorgon’s head, with enough force to liberate a couple of feathers from its confines.
By the time Alan and Scott arrived back, with a thankfully scratch free Thunderbird Two, Gordon and Virgil had fallen asleep two films into yet another Lord of the Rings rewatch marathon. Gordon had nested on the floor on a mound of slightly battered looking scatter cushions and Virgil had reinstated the blanket burrito and only his head was free from the blankety confines.
#thunderbirds#thunderbirds are go#thunderbirds 2004#thunderbirds 1965#thunderbirds fanfiction#Scott Tracy#Virgil Tracy#Gordon Tracy#John Tracy#alan tracy#submission
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• in the mood for love | pjh
ykcyj ➝ arskyh
title: in the mood for love
pairing: park jaehyung (jae of day6) & you
genre: FLUFF
words: 2.6k
author’s note: requested by this anon asking for a valentine’s day headcanon for our #1 twitch streamer, jae. i’ve never done headcanons before, so i kind of spun this in both ways: how i think he’d spend a special day with his s/o, and turn it into a fic(ish?) ngl these are fun to do
any requests? check my pinned post if i’m accepting any at the moment, thanks!
jae wouldn’t be the biggest fan of valentine’s day
as in, having one specific day assigned throughout the whole year
for you to hail gifts and love notes and roses and chocolates to the one person you love
yeah, he’d definitely be the “complaining” type, that is to say
before he met you
your relationship stands in the middle of being frenemies and actually romantically involved
there is never a day that jae corrects you on some weird unheard of factoid
(in which case he gets it wrong 95% of the time)
nor can you get away from his ridiculous antics that just tip you over the edge slightly
like, putting your favorite snack on the highest shelf he knows you can’t reach
or bombarding you with memes through texts while he’s in the bathroom
forcing you to play phasmaphobia, promising he won’t lock you in the room with the ghost
and proceeds to do exactly that plus runs away without you
where’s the team effort in that?
anyway, that’s basically the gist of your life having him as your boyfriend
so for valentine’s day, you know it would either just be
a chill day at his apartment, maybe play games that would resort to turning into a fiery competition
or watch the latest release of your favorite animes while he talks over every two minutes about a theory he developed prior
OR… hmm, well, you’re not really sure
this would be the first valentine’s you’d spend with him; and you’re very much aware for his
lack of fondness for the holiday
the days leading up to it, the only thing you’d hear from him is complaints upon complaints of this capitalistic expenditure that should be abolished
you know he jests, but you feel a little saddened
you spent so much time making a scrapbook for the memories you both shared in the few months you’ve been together
it’s not a lot, you rarely do intricate craftwork like this, but you were feeling sentimental
there’s polaroids of him streaming on twitch with you sneakily taking the picture from the side
a polaroid of the two of you at your apartment eating take out while drinking a little alc
even a picture of yourself which he took when you were knocked out on the couch, waiting for him to finish band practice
for an added touch, you wrote down cute (or snarky, it depends on how he views it) comments on each polaroid, just to make it more personalized
the nervousness hits you, what if he thinks this is all too much? too clingy? he didn’t ask for this, that’s for sure
but it was made with the labor of love, and it just so happens that the 14th was the day you started dating him… yeah, maybe you can make that as an excuse instead
usually, the both for you don’t really celebrate ~*~monthsaries~*~ and that’s okay
he’s busy with work and you have other duties to attend to as well— but one special gift shouldn’t be the cause of a problem, right?
on the day of ~*~love~*~, jae had some meetings at the company bldg. and so you ask if there’s a time during the night you guys can hang out
he doesn’t respond until a few hours later, and the whole time your heart sank deeper and deeper into the pit of your stomach
you just have to accept him for who he is, you sigh, or maybe he’s just caught up with band stuff, which is usually the case— and you’re never not 100% supportive
he texts you that you can come over at his apartment, and for a little your excitement bounces back
“sorry for the late reply, the boys were here for a lil” he adds, and you’re confused— did that mean they’re still hanging out at his place? oh
you try not to think of it too much, having expectations beyond reality is what breaks a lot of relationships
and you have to remind yourself: jae isn’t like that, and you like jae for jae
you still bring the scrapbook with you, and ought to leave it under his bed or something so he finds a surprise later on (considering the possibility that you’re accompanied by 4 of his best friends during your 6 month anniversary and valentine’s day)
you arrive at his doorstep, anxiety soaring out of your chest for some reason. with the spare key he had entrusted you with, you open the door
it’s dark
way too dark
is this a prank? is he trying to conflate halloween with valentine’s day
“jae i swear to god if—”
and the lights turn on, but it’s not his house lights. they’re fairy lights. all strewn across the hall (where did he get that?)
little heart cut outs of different shades of red and pink seem to be taped all over the walls
you hear soft piano music humming from his speakers in the living room
but there is no jae in sight
“jae, what…” you’re at a loss for words
he pops out of his bedroom, trying hard not to grin so widely at you
“you called?” he says in the most annoying, teasing voice in which you can’t help but laugh-cry at
“wait wait wait this wasn’t the reaction i was going for” he says in panic, walking towards you and the sight of him just makes you cry a little harder
he’s wearing a tux inside his own house, and he’s holding a rose that’s bound to be crushed the moment he comes over to hug you
“wait, no the rose,” you say in between sniffles, taking it from his grasp and settling it on the coffee table
jae pauses, looks at you in a daze
you’re pouting, and you want to admire his outfit but also punch his silly face but he’s smiling at you and you’re embarrassed
“are you sad?” he asks a matter of factly, arms still spread open waiting for your approval for him to embrace you
“if you don’t hug me in the next three second i will be—”
“i would be the worst person to ever exist in the world to do that to you,” he says in your ear, and you soon feel yourself melting into his embrace
he’s so warm
and so tall
and so confusing you kind of just want to poke him where it hurts
but you indulge in the comfort of his presence
until you realize that you’re wrinkling his precious suit
“ok hol up” you interrupt the adorable moment, and jae seems to look confused
“wha”
“what’s all this?” you finally get the courage to ask, dried up tears on your cheeks yet a hopeful spark igniting in your chest
“well, i uh,” this is ultimate Jae Trying to Find Excuses with Futile Attempts To Do So 101
“did you really have a meeting today?” no answer
“did the boys help you with all this?” your head turns to look at all the cheesy decorations in the room
still no answer
just jae avoiding your suspicious stare, even whistling comically
“jae!” your nervousness from a while ago comes out as relief, and bubbling laughter as you playfully shake him for an answer “i thought valentine’s suck and we’re too good for that”
“you’re never too good for anything, well. except for me, you’re too good for me,” he finally lets up, wiping whats left of the moist tears on your face with a soft caress. his voice was soft, too, and it’s a refreshing and wanted feeling to hear him speak to you this way
“i know i can be a jerk about those kinds of things but… after meeting you, i think you deserve just the best,” he continues, finding your hand and holding onto it tight. “this isn’t even half of it”
“there’s more?” you quip, already satisfied with the cutesy re-decor of his apartment, but once he leads you to the island counter you see two plates filled with dinner food, and wine glasses ready to be poured with what seems to be red wine on the side
the vase in the middle was empty, and so you accept the rose that jae had picked up from the table, and carefully place it in its new home
“i’m… impressed. you did this?” you say
“if i said yes would you believe me”
“never,” you reply, knowing that younghyun probably had a little helping hand in here too
“well there you go, you know me better than myself already,” jae winks, and something flutters within you that causes your head to feel so light and just. focus on jae
pulling out the chair, he signals for you sit down with a royal gesture “before you, milady”
you’re laughing now, smiling from ear to ear at how ridiculous jae sounds but at the same time the two of you are having so much fun
you fall back into normal conversations with more banter than regular small talk; it’s so easy to be yourself with him
you keep admiring the suit he’s wearing, even his hair is slicked back with gel to cast the perfect valentine’s day look. you compliment him in between bites, and then mutter under your breath that you should have worn something just as elegant
“this wasn’t my idea,” he defends, and you’re sure one of the boys dared him to do it
“still, i don’t look the part as your date,” you half-joke, but your tone sounded sadder than you anticipated
“this,” jae says, looking at you and only you. for a moment you can’t find your breath
“you. this is you. and that’s who i love”
you’re smitten. that’s it pack up your bags this is it
“jae maybe ease up on the red wine?”
“shutup youknowyouloveit”
finally, you finish up the meal and you’re full
of food and love
he tells you to just chill by the couch as he gets something from his room, and you wonder what else he has up his sleeve
you’re grateful for bringing the polaroid camera with you to commemorate something so rare
but as you’re trying to take it out of your bag, you see the scrapbook (it’s hard to miss) and pull that out instead
should you give it to him now? or later?
while you contemplate on this, flipping the pages of the book jae has sprung up behind you
“hey i was looking for that picture of you all sleepy and drooling”
“JAE WHAT THE HELL”
you jump from surprise, almost flailing the scrapbook in the process as you see jae laughing his ass off from behind
you notice he has his guitar with him now (???)
“did you do this for me?” he sits next to you, setting the guitar on the side as you begrudgingly give him your gift. all of a sudden the unknown fear creeps up again and you hide your face in your hands
you hear him turn the page, a quiet pause, maybe a chuckle or two, and rinse repeat
“are you done????”
“no give me about ten hours”
“WHAT”
“i’m kidding, dude, this is amazing”
give it to jae to call you dude while in a relationship with you
but that’s when you know he’s genuine with his words
“i wasn’t expecting anything like this at all. this is so so so good, i love it. a lot,” he keeps complimenting you and it’s so hard to look at him when you’re red in the face and heart beating a mile a minute
“it’s nothing… i thought it’d feel too much since we haven’t been together long,” you confess, finally giving into seeing what jae looks like
he pout
he attac you with a flick on the forehead
and a pat on top of your head
“i don’t see it that way,” he says, sincerely. then he brings his guitar on his lap, and prepares his form as if he’s… about to sing something
the music from the speakers was soft enough to not disrupt his singing and guitar skills
you are one if not the biggest fan of jae and his band
and also, of eaJ
so you are very well aware of every song he’s put out there even winning five times in a self-induced contest as to who knows the lyrics better: the actual band member or the significant other
but what he’s singing for you right now
what those fingers plucking romantic melodies on the guitar strings
you haven’t heard of it before
and yet your heart feels so connected, so in awe of the way jae passionately sings in front of you
the man is shy okay, he’s a genius in his craft but when it comes to doing it in front of you he clamps up like a toddler on his first day alone in school
but right now, you don’t see any of that. you see jae singing words of happiness, admiration, love
for you
and he might not be meeting your eyes right now, it’s okay, cause you’re crying again anyway
you don’t want him to stop
you close your eyes and feel his words embed themselves in your mind
you want to keep this memory close to you, even if you can’t take a picture
it’ll ruin how special this moment is, really
it was short, sweet, but you’re not complaining
he finishes with a soft strum, and then finally sees your face in tears again
“i’m a bad boyfriend aren’t i,” he whines and he is met with the forceful (hint: soft) punches on his chest
“you’re literally the best bf ever wtf are u on about”
face wet, cheeks red, neck feeling warm from the wine
you’re a mess it’s as if you got dumped on valentine’s instead of serenaded by the love of your life
“why do you look like you got broken up on valentine’s instead of being—”
“yes jae i know”
“did you like it though? it’s unfinished but, i figured i wanted you to be the first to hear it”
“since...well.. it’s a song about you”
:( he wipes the tears with his thumb, and you steal a quick kiss on his lips
“i love it, and i love you so much u dork”
“i take it back you’ll never hear the finished version of this song”
“HEY”
(spoiler alert: he now keeps bugging you for more supportive comments and suggestions on the song)
(another spoiler alert: the night ended up the way you guys love spending time together: basking in each other’s company)
only this time, there’s poorly cut out hearts all over the walls
and there’s jae drunkenly mistaking lyrics of his song for another
and you singing along off-tune
happy valentine’s you two :)
#day6 imagines#day6 scenarios#day6 au#park jaehyung imagines#park jaehyung scenarios#day6 x reader#jae x reader#day6 fic#by:jiae#dot series
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Chapter 5: The Reveal
Cover made on Canva.com
You were great at running. You’d been running from your problems for year, both figuratively and literally. Before however, your problems followed you, now they simply wait on bated breath for your return. What’s the point in running, though, if no one’s chasing you?
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Masterlist
TRIGGER WARNING: (Y/N) IS GONNA HAVE A PANIC ATTACK. IF THAT WILL DISCOMFORT YOU, THEN PLEASE SKIP THIS CHAPTER. I WILL HAVE A SUMMERY OF THE CHAPTER AT THE VERY END, SO SCROLL ALL THE WAY DOWN IF YOU DON’T WISH TO READ ABOUT A PANIC ATTACK.
Bruh, this is one of my longest chapters. I’m very happy about this one. I’d say this is a tipping point in (Y/N) and Tenya’s relationship, so please enjoy. :)
. . .
If that goddamned thing goes off one more time, I’m going to stab myself in the eye. You thought bitterly, kicking your cell phone away.
The offending device had been ringing incessantly for the past four minutes, and kept going off with text alerts every thirty seconds. You were too tired, and your hands too full of needles and yarn to care.
“A little preoccupied at the moment!” You yelled at your phone, as if that would make the calls stop coming in.
You growled, quickly slipping your needles under and over the yarn. This better be important.
Your knitting needles clicked together pleasantly as you quickly finished your row, and set the work aside.
“Now,” you stooped to pick up your phone “what the actual fuck is going on?”
Disregarding the eighteen missed calls for the moment, you winced at the sheer magnitude of text notifications. You had a plethora of messages from your colleagues and the few friends you had outside of work, including Iida and Taiyo. They all said the same sort of things:
Did you see it???
Are u ok?
I’m so sorry
“What the hell happened?” you murmured, navigating to Iida’s text thread. He had sent a link, and a single line: I’m here if you’d like to talk.
Anxiety starting to coil in your stomach, you tapped the link. Your eyes widened as the web page loaded.
It was a news site. The article that Iida had sent was titled CRIMINAL WORKING FOR MUSUTAFU POLICE?
Oh no.
The Musutafu police district has worked with heroes in the past, but now they appear to be branching out to accept the assistance of villains as well. An exclusive interview with as anonymous police investigator reveals that a former inmate of the high-security villain prison Tartarus has been working with the police station for several months now.
The interview revealed the existence of (Y/N) (L/N), a slippery criminal whose name has been kept from the public. In 20XX, (L/N) was arrested for check fraud, but the chase they led from the law was legendary in criminal standards.
At age sixteen, (L/N) ran away from home and began making money by forging and cashing checks. They posed as a pilot for about two years, cashing much larger fake checks in uniform and traveling around the globe.
“(L/N) never actually flew any planes,” our anonymous investigator assured us. “However, pilots can hitch rides on a flight for free, so for years they gave us the slip by escaping to different countries. It was a nightmare.”
The article went on to detail the whole story of your chase and capture, going into your other disguises, and mentioning some of your more risky escapes. Your fingers were numb. You couldn’t feel your feet. You weren’t even sure if your heart was still beating, or if you were breathing. All of the sudden, everything got so much worse when a name caught your eye. It was a name you hadn’t spoken or seen in years, but you remembered it clear as day.
“We actually came very close to catching (L/N) because they fell in love, believe it or not. They tried to settle down with someone, and in that time, they couldn’t change their name.” Our interviewee said “(L/N) had to completely abandon them so we wouldn’t get them. It was actually kind of sad.”
The person in question, who’s asked to be known simply by their surname, Tsuki, has denied us an interview.
No.
Oh god, no.
Your phone clattered to the floor, and you stumbled, falling right on your backside. Hyperventilation ripped through your lungs, and you felt tears streaming down your face. You fumbled to hold your phone steady as you haphazardly pressed buttons, hoping muscle memory would guide you.
“(L/N)? How are you doing?” Iida’s deep calming voice resonated from the device.
“Not good,” you gasped “Iida, I-I’m not ok, I’m-oh god-”
“Ok, ok, (L/N), breathe for me, ok? Please take a deep breath.” IIda pleaded.
You tried to comply, but your hiccups and whimpers kept cutting through.
“I’m scared,” you sobbed quietly.
“I know, just keep breathing. Do you need me to come over? What’s your address?”
You told him, doing you best to steady your breathing.
“I’ll be there shortly. Stay on the line with me.” you heard Iida moving around, and the faint clink of car keys. “Here, breathe with me. In for four, out for five, ready?”
He counted you off as you inhaled, and then exhaled a quivering breath.
“Perfect. You’re doing perfect. Again. In, two, three, four, out, two three, four, five.”
You kept inhaling and exhaling shaky breaths as Iida cooly guided you through.
“You’re doing great, (L/N).” he praised. “I’m right outside your apartment complex. You said 312, right?”
“Yeah, I’ll buzz you up.” you sniffled, slowly rising to your feet.
“Take it easy,” Iida reminded you.
A few long minutes later, you heard a sharp knock. You scrambled to let your friend in.
You were lucky it was late and he was off work. His hair was ruffled and his shirk was uncharacteristically wrinkled and untucked. He looked as though he had only just ditched his hero uniform.
You collapsed into his arms, still crying quietly. “I’m sorry,” you croaked.
“Please don’t apologize, this isn’t you fault.” Iida readjusted his grip on you so he had one arm around your shoulder as he led you further into your apartment. “Do you need anything? I can make some tea if you’d like.”
You nodded pathetically, sitting back down on your couch. “Tea bags are int he cupboard top left of the stove.” you called after his retreating back.
“Alright, don’t worry, I’ll take care of it. You just relax.” he turned to you, flashing you a small concerned smile.
A few minutes later, you found yourself with a mug of steaming hibiscus tea as Iida sat down next to you with a mug of his own. “Give it a minute, it may still be too hot.”
You nodded, blowing on your beverage. “Sorry I only have one kind of tea. I live alone, and I don’t ever have friends over.”
“Not to worry.” he reassured you. “Are you feeling any better?”
“Yeah, a little. Thanks for coming over.”
“You’re welcome, but it’s not trouble, really. I got off work a little wile ago, so you caught me at just the right time.”
“Or you caught me.” you muttered, gingerly sipping your tea. “Then again, what with everyone I’ve ever known blowing up my phone, I would’ve figured it out eventually.”
“I ought to tell you it wasn’t just an online article,” Iida hesitated, staring at you in concern. “I actually discovered it from the news on the TV. I just went to the web page to see how far it had spread.”
“This is just getting better and better, huh?” you groaned, resting your head on the back of the couch.
Iida placed a hand on your shoulder, causing you to flinch.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” he retracted his hand, looking abashed. “I should’ve asked.”
A large rough hand gripped your shoulder, harshly pulling you forward.
Your mind was hyper-aware of the handcuffs around your wrists, and every single hand touching, pushing, pulling, and forcing you into the back of the police car.
“It’s fine,” you said quietly, criss-crossing your legs.
“Do you want me to touch you at all?” Iida asked, an anxious expression crossing his face.
“No, just-uh-give me a minute.”
“Ok, let me know if you change your mind. Is there anything you want to talk about?” he asked soothingly.
“Can you just sit here with me? No talking or anything?”
“Of course.”
...
SUMMERY FOR THOSE WHO ARE DISTURBED BY PANIC ATTACKS
(Y/N) was trying to enjoy a quiet evening, but their phone was going off without signs of stopping. When (Y/N) finally checked their phone, they saw a lot of texts saying things like “did you see it?” and “I’m so sorry”. They were incredibly confused, and saw that Iida had sent them a link to a news site. The article had the story of their criminal escapades that they had hoped to not share, including several sensitive pieces of informations, such as the name of a person they had had a relationship with during their life on the run. The article revealing all their secrets, and a past they wished to run from, pushed them into a panic attack. They called Iida, who guided them through a breathing exercise as he drove to their apartment. When he arrived, he made them some tea, and they sat together. Iida touched (Y/N) on the shoulder in an attempt to comfort them, but they flinched away, remembering how they were touched and manhandled during their arrest. Iida gives (Y/N) the space they need to collect their thoughts, but per their request, he stays with them and just keeps them company.
#mha#bnha#iida#tenya#tenya iida#mha x reader#bnha x reader#tenya x reader#iida x reader#tenya iida x reader
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A Lipless Face That I Want to Marry, Ch. 4
<- Chapter 3 | Chapter 5 ->
Summary: Chilton’s recovery is slow and painful, and he is a cranky traumatized bastard who might be determined to push you away.
1,878 words
Twelve days. Six surgeries. Fifteen blood transfusions.
“Did you bring me something to eat?” he whined. Considering he could barely lift his voice above a whisper, it was an impressive feat that he could whine. “Tell me you smuggled something edible that does not go into a tube through my nose.”
“I’m sorry, honey-bear,” you pouted. “But you know I can’t until the doctors OK it.”
“I am a doctor.”
You rolled your eyes. “You’re still at a high risk of going septic—no outside foods covered with outside bacteria. Besides, they won’t let you eat solids yet, anyway.”
“Sanguinaccio dolce. Mango smoothie. Crème brûlée. Yamakake Soba...” he listed off non-solid things you ought to have snuck in for his enjoyment.
“And how would I get them in there?” You rapped your knuckles on the clear acrylic of the hyperbaric oxygen therapy chamber.
He scowled. “This is not a zoo. No tapping the glass.”
You grinned and pulled a chair alongside the chamber so you were sitting next to him.
“Did you bring the laptop?”
Slinging the messenger bag you were carrying off your shoulder, you pulled out a smooth rectangular object and held it up proudly. “That I did. I’m ready to write if you’re up for it,” you said, but added with some hesitation, “Are you sure you want to do this now? You should be resting, and… I don’t know if it’s a good idea for you to relive what happened.”
“I am sure,” he snapped. “I may drop dead at any moment, so we will finish this now. While I still draw breath.”
You stiffened imperceptibly in your chair. The reminder that, despite making it this long, he was far from out of the woods was an unwelcome dagger in your chest, which you quickly plucked out and stuffed away in the box of things you weren’t going to think about.
“As for the wisdom of my reliving it—I feel his teeth every time I close my eyes. I may as well profit from the experience.”
Dr. Chilton was growing anxious that it had been nearly two weeks since his encounter with Francis “The Red Dragon” Dolarhyde, and he had not yet had the chance to publish on the subject. He had wasted far too much time being unconscious and dying—he needed to send a letter in to the American Journal of Psychiatry before some know-nothing crackpot took a swing.
He was the foremost authority on the Dragon—the only person to have communicated with him and lived who was not, himself, a fugitive for murder (or a blind girlfriend, but he doubted Reba was going to publish anything). This was his achievement. His way of staying relevant. The definitive analysis of the Red Dragon for the Journal, and then a spectacular ending for his book once he had his own hands to type with again. No one would take this opportunity from him.
After living with Frederick Chilton for over three years in relative domestic harmony, there were times you forgot what you ever used to dislike about him. Why you hated him so intensely when you first met.
This was not one of those times.
As you took dictation from your glass-encased fiance, you felt a crushing wave of empathy for the man’s poor secretary. He was demanding and fussy, making you read back every sentence to him line by line and mercilessly correcting any mistakes or omissions. He spoke slowly because of his weakened lungs and raw throat, and the thick glass and lack of lips made him difficult to understand, especially with nurses walking through and machinery beeping and whirring in the background—but when you tried explaining that to justify a transcription error, he took it as a personal affront.
You had to support him no matter what, you reminded yourself. This was much harder on him than you. You can always leave if you want you; he can’t. So when he was frustrated and cranky, you were patient and kind.
It took five hours and ten rewrites to get through two thousand words he was satisfied with submitting for publication, and you were nearly crying by the time you left.
***
Thirteen days.
High protein intake is critical to a speedy recovery in burn patients, but Frederick’s mangled digestive system could not tolerate protein very well. Keeping his kidney off the precipice of failure was a tightrope walk involving dietitians planning his every calorie intake, and daily blood work monitoring.
As a medical doctor, Frederick Chilton was aware of, and understood, these things. However he still rejected them as excuses when you once again did not bring him any outside food.
“Then what is the point of you coming?” he snapped, and immediately wished he had not. You stood frozen in the doorway of his recovery room unsure what you did wrong. You were right, of course—his throat felt like he had fellated broken glass. As much as he longed to chew something flavorful, with texture, he could not have swallowed solid food anyway. He closed his eyes. Softer, he asked, “Did you bring the March issue of the Journal of Psychiatry?”
You let out a held breath, unfreezing, and pulled the magazine out of your bag, presenting it with an upbeat flourish. “Delivered to your doorstep.”
“Would you read it to me?” He sighed, humiliated. It was not only that he could not hold the publication—even if you were to flip the pages for him, with only one working eye and no reading glasses, it was hopeless. He was completely dependent on you.
A cough shook his body as if to punctuate how completely he was broken. Useless. Weak.
The metal feet of the visitor’s chair scraped on the white floor like nails on a chalkboard as you dragged it close to his bedside, making him wince until you settled down and helped him browse for an article of interest.
He could barely make himself care about the content of the study. As you read, you rested one arm on the mattress right next to his, where it lay helplessly prone alongside his body, and he could feel the warm weight of you sinking into the cushion. The pressure was uncomfortable on his inflamed tissue, but soothing to something deeper. God, he wanted to be soothed. He wanted so badly to feel any kind of comfort. Anything to latch onto. He closed his eyes and got lost in your voice. For a moment, he could almost forget about the searing pain in each of his limbs and pretend he was at home, in his bed, with you.
The soothing, steady lull stopped, and he opened his eyes, horrified to find you looking intently at his ruined face. His nostrils flared painfully. “Do not stare,” he warned.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to,” you said. “I finished the article. I thought you fell asleep.” You searched for somewhere else to settle your eyes—the metal bar at the edge of the bed. Your lap. A flower arrangement.
You made such a show of not staring at him that he was even more certain that you had been. He was hideous. Perhaps that entertained you. You were probably already planning for Halloween. Red-hot thoughts swirled around his head like cinders.
Before you could get through a second article, a nurse came in with a tray of mushy hospital food. Humiliation stung deep for you to even see the damned tray, and it annoyed him that you did not immediately excuse yourself. There was no way in Hell he would allow you to watch such a disgusting, embarrassing process—being spoon fed like a toddler, the nurse wiping off his toothy chin of the spillage meant to be kept in check by lips.
“Go home,” he grumbled, leaving no room for argument.
You had barely been there for half an hour.
***
Fourteen days.
“Do you want to look at venues?” you offered, tucking him in with the extra blanket you had a nurse bring because he was cold.
“Venues?” he repeated with clear exasperation. He let out a weak cough.
“It’ll be fun! It’ll take your mind off things.” You grabbed your laptop off the plastic visitor chair where you’d left it, and excitedly held it up so he could see the screen from his prone position. There was already a search typed into google with preview images of scenic gardens glowing with string lights and towering ancient library ballrooms.
“I thought it went without saying our wedding date is… postponed.”
Your shoulders deflated. “I know, but… you’ll be out of the hospital by next year,” barring complications, “so we can use the time to plan. We were going to have to postpone anyway if you couldn’t pick anywhere that was good enough for your standards,” you teased.
“It is pointless.” He laughed bitterly, humorlessly, and your brief smile dropped.
“It isn’t… pointless.”
“I will not be able to visit any of the locations.”
“But we could make a list of places you want to visit when—”
“Stop!” he hissed.
“Oh,” you said quietly. “OK.” You sounded small. Too small.
“I… uh...” Frederick tried to say something. Something to make you sound less small and wounded. Fragments of thoughts and half-formed apologies stuck in his sore throat. Fuck, his skin hurt. Parts of it were starting to heal, but in the short-term that only made it worse, because now it itched, too. Pain. Itch. Guilt. Cold. You deserved so much more than him. “You should go,” he said at last, finally settling on the only way to make it better.
“Wh-what?”
“Just… go,” he croaked.
“I’m sorry. I won’t bring it up again. What do you want to talk about? Or, I can shut up and we can listen to music, or...”
You were apologizing. Again. Because he was being an asshole. It disgusted him how weak he made you. You used to be so fierce. Stubborn and unstoppable. But being with him was slowly killing your fire.
“Get out of this place. I want to be alone.”
It was better this way, he thought. It was better for you to get away from him.
You stared at him silently across what now felt like a vast distance of white laminate flooring. His beautiful, pale, mismatched eyes were fixed on the ceiling, hard and uncompromising. He blinked rapidly.
You wished you knew what was going on in his head. You wished you could fix it for him. But right now, as much as it pained you, he wanted you to leave, and maybe that was the best you could do.
“OK,” you relented. “I’ll be back tomorrow, all right? I love you.”
The only sound as you packed your laptop away and slipped your coat over your shoulders was his ragged breathing, the beeps and tones of hospital machines, and the occasional cough. He waited until you were almost out the door before replying, “I love you, too.”
#Frederick Chilton x reader#frederick chilton#hannibal#Raúl Esparza#angst#recovery angst#hospitals#here have your daily serving of pain#my writing
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Chthonic Love Chapter 9
Series Summary: A Greek Mythology AU featuring Yoongi/Suga as Hades and reader as Persephone. Olympian ruler Namjoon has delivered you, Persephone, as a gift for his brother, lord of Death, Yoongi
Chapter Summary: You both wake up after yesterday’s events.
Previous Chapter found here
When you woke up, Yoongi was gone. In his place was a beautiful fur-lined cloak. You reached over and felt the soft material and pulled it up against your body. It was very beautiful and warm, but you found yourself thinking you liked the way the old cloak smelled like Yoongi: ashes, leather, and like the air before it snows.. You sighed deeply as you remembered the events of earlier that day. Yesterday? You felt like you had slept both too long and not enough, sleep still making your eyes sticky and your mouth dry. You heard a light knock at your door. “Come in,” you manage with a crackly voice.
Lethe poked her head inside, “Ah you’re awake finally. I brought some tea if you’d like it.”
You blinked your eyes a few extra times to help them unstick. “Please.” You manage to push out through your lips. You sit up in bed, making no effort to actually get up and stand. You can tell your power reserves are still low; it’s been a while since you’ve used your healing magic on anything other than a bird’s injured wing.
Lethe walked over to the beside and sat the tray down, pouring you a cup of tea. She worried her lip and pressed a hand to your forehead.
"We were so worried about the two of you. Lord Yoongi missed last night's reaping. Penthos was convinced you were both dead." she shook her head, pulling her hand away.
"I'm sorry.” You said.
“You're still sick.” You couldn’t tell if it was a question or a statement.
“Just tired. Healing magic is exhausting. Especially on a God. Apparently. And I had already been crying before that.” You shut your eyes and leaned your head backwards against the solid headboard.
Lethe pulled a chair over next to the bed. “And why were you crying? And what on Earth did you make all those sharp vines for?”
You opened your eyes and looked over. You almost considered Lethe your friend. She had certainly confided in you, and you enjoyed talking to her. You could tell she was worried about you, but you didn’t care for the accusatory tone in her voice. You took another sip of tea, allowing the hot liquid to unstick your parched mouth and hoarse throat. You reminded yourself that she meant well and was probably just worried.
“Of course, you don’t have to tell me anything, Lady Persephone. If you don’t need anything else…” she started to stand up and leave.
“No Lethe. It’s fine. I really am just that exhausted. I’m still waking up” You reassured her. “Stay. Please. I didn't mean to create the vines. I made flowers in here and apparently a side effect of Yoongi's power is amplification. When they hit the door they went a little crazy."
“Ah, that makes sense then. I couldn’t imagine you would have hurt Lord Yoongi on purpose. Especially when you worked so hard to save him.” She sat back in her chair, seemingly vindicated. “Speaking of,” the tone in her voice changed entirely, “ The two of you looked quite cozy when Penthos made me come check on you two." she raised her eyebrows.
"Honestly I remember falling asleep and that's about it," you took a sip of tea, hoping to hide the blush on your face. You also remembered some hand holding.
Lethe chuckled, ”Uh-huh.” She waited a moment to see if you would elaborate any, but you couldn’t. There was nothing else to share. “Let me get you some bread or maybe some stronger tea,” she stood up. “Oh. What's that m'lady?" she gestured to the new garment in your bed.
"Fresh from Arachne. A coat made to withstand the Desert of Sorrow." You picked it up and handed it to her. She took it, allowing the fabric to fully unfurl.
"it's so soft!" she remarked as she pet the fabric. "I'll hang it up for you."
"Thank you. And I would love some food and stronger tea by the way.” You stretched your arms up over your head and yawned. “Have you seen Lord Yoongi, is he OK?"
Lethe shook her head. "Only from a distance when I heard him passing through the great hall. He seemed fine though."
"Good. Thanks." you finished your tea and sat the cup back down on the tray. “I can also just come with you to the kitchen.” You added and started to begin the task of extracting yourself from the blankets Yoongi had apparently tossed over you. You heard no response and looked back over towards Lethe. You noticed Lethe she was nervously fidgeting, wringing her hands while looking towards the door.
"Is something wrong?" You asked. You could tell she is struggling with how to word her answer appropriately.
“Um...Well….” She trailed off, the way she does when she wants to speak her mind but can’t because technically you’re “above her” which is still very weird to you but you didn’t create the hierarchy.
“Just say it Lethe. Like it’s just you and [Y/N] talking, not Lady Persephone.”
She turned and looked at you. “That is a lovely name by the way. I don’t think I could do that but. I...well..." she still struggled with the right words, but then you saw her ball up her fists in determination as she decided to just spit it out. “Not that you would seek him out anyways but… you should avoid Penthos."
"I already do." you answered casually. This was not new news. You had only been here a few days but the two of you clearly did not get along and you often scurried away whenever he came around.
"Yes. But… like, really stay away from him. He is very angry about what happened with Yoongi. He thinks you tried to kill him. He was shouting some nonsense about treason. I'm sure Lord Yoongi will speak to him about it but… Uh….Until he does you should maybe just… Stay in your room. “ She looked nervously over at you.
You feel a mix of sadness and anger rise up within you. Treason? Didn’t anyone else in this realm ever lose control of their powers? You wondered. It happened on Olympus and Earth all the time. The difference was they accidentally killed mortals, razed villages, and caused natural disasters when they fucked up. You felt bad about what happened, but you had fixed the problem and hadn’t done it on purpose. You felt your face grow red. “You know I would never hurt Yoongi on purpose. It was an accident.” You surprised yourself at how sad your own voice sounded. Just remembering how cut up and bloody he was made you feel awful all over again.
“I know, I know. I’m sure he’ll talk to Penthos about it. Just, for today, until you hear from me or Yoongi, just...stay here. Ok?” she walked back over to get the tray and gave you a reassuring smile. “I know you’re a good person. Er...Goddess. I’m sure Lord Yoongi does too. I’ll be back with some more food and tea and then I’ll tell you all the secrets about the Athenian Palace,” She puts on a smile for your benefit and you can tell she’s trying to cheer you up.
“Thanks Lethe,” you said. She turned and left the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts. Treason?
----------------------------
Yoongi had woken up feeling much better. He startled awake, confused by his surroundings at first. He could sense that it was the middle of the night. Shit, I missed a reaping, he thought. It would be fine. The morning one would just take extra time. He looked around as it took him a few seconds to remember what had occurred the previous day. Namjoon. Vines. Persephone. Persephone? He suddenly remembered where he was and he turned his head to the side. There you were, still sleeping heavily, you were on your side still facing him, arms still out in front of you, reaching towards him. A shy smile crossed his lips. You looked so peaceful sleeping there. He reached over and pushed your hair back so he could see your face more clearly. He felt both warmth and an aching in his chest. And that’s when he knew. He knew that when you left it was going to destroy him. Maybe she won’t leave? A small voice whispered in the back of his head. Shut up idiot. No one would want to stay here. It’s dark, it’s cold, its boring, you’re here. But i think she likes me. You made a small noise, shifting slightly. Yoongi looked around and saw a blanket at the foot of the bed and pulled it up over you. Your hands moved in your sleep, clutching the fabric up to your chin and snuggling into it.
Yoongi laid there for a few more minutes taking turns looking at the ceiling and looking at you.
He couldn’t ask you to stay. You had been kidnapped. Unlawfully removed from your home against your will. You had a job to do, he was sure, in the mortal realm. You needed sunlight and warmth, not obsidian and cold. He let out a deep breath and slowly sat up. If he would have been sleepy at all he would have stayed and gone back to sleep, but he was annoyingly refreshed. He looked back at you one more time, feeling that twinge in his chest once more, and quietly left the room.
He pulled at his shirt sleeves as he walked down the hallway. His shirt was so shredded. It looked kind of badass though, he thought. It was obvious he had fought with something. People didn’t need to know they were vines that he accidentally cultivated. He smiled to himself as he approached the great hall. He wasn’t expecting anything to be happening at this early hour, but he heard Penthos raised voice echoing in the great hall. He slowly approached, his feet quiet against the obsidian. Shit, I left my shoes in Persephone’s room. He thought. He started to turn back to get them when he heard,
“Persephone ought to be locked up for Treason. She tried to kill the Master. His blood was everywhere.”
Yoongi’s head snapped up and he turned, walking quickly into the great hall. The sconces, which had previously been lit by the ambient blue flame were now a shade of dark purple. It gave an unnatural and dark ambiance to the room. The few servants who were near the exits took this opportunity to leave. Penthos had stopped talking and the poor woman he was talking to just stood there, frozen in fear. Yoongi walked purposefully towards the two figures in the middle of the great hall. As he approached Penthos’ back he said, “Malea you may go.” The woman bowed her head and high-tailed it out of the room.
“Why is it that lately, every time I find you lately, you have Persephone’s name in your mouth?” Yoongi circled around to face Penthos.
Penthos stood there, rocking back and forth on his heels. “I’m not taking it back if that’s what you expect. Look at your shirt. It’s torn to shreds. Your skin was torn to shreds as well. Because of her. Because she was angry with you and decided to attack you from her room, the only way she could.”
Yoongi felt rage slowly building inside him. He rubbed the back of his neck and thought about just leaving. He didn’t owe this man any answers. At all. He was the King. He was in charge. He decided what was treason and what wasn’t. “You’ve had one job the past day.” He angrily held up his index finger for emphasis: “ Leave Persephone the fuck alone. Does shouting in the great hall, calling her a traitor, sound like you’re doing your fucking job?!” Yoongi was screaming at this point.
Penthos remained unfazed. “Sir I can see that your feelings for her are clouding your judgment, but the truth of the matter remains. Just look at your shirt.”
“I don’t give two shits about my shirt. The only feelings I have right now are anger. At you. The vines were an accident. She saved me. Look.” He gestured to his body and his face, “She fucking healed me. I feel better than I have in centuries. So shut. the. fuck. up.”
Penthos was shaking slightly now, but his years in the underworld and dour personality were a strong match for Yoongi’s anger. He coughed a little to clear his throat, “Sir, Charon delivered this letter for Persephone at last night’s reaping.” He took the document out and held it out between his thumb and index finger.
Yoongi snatched it and looked at him questioningly.
“I was feeding Holly and he gave it to me since you weren’t there.”
Yoongi looked down at the envelope. Shit. He looked back up at Penthos and gave him one last angry glare before stomping off to his office, letter in hand.
NEXT CHAPTER
#bts fanfic#bts fanfction#bts au fanfic#bts suga x you#bts yoongi x reader#yoongi x reader#yoongi scenarios#suga x reader#suga x you
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Fictober 3:
Prompt 3: “I’ve waited for this.”
Fandom: Mass Effect.
Title: Until The Date (in the end of it all)
Pairing: Sarah Ryder / Kaidan Alenko
Rating: m
Warnings/Tags: Fluff (purely sickly sweetly)
Kaidan Alenko stood at the kitchen door waiting for Sarah Ryder to walk down the hall of the Tempest; it had been a long journey but having finally beaten the Archon, and taken Meridian. Having finally recovered from the fight, they would be getting their promised date.
"I've waited for this."
"Oh?" Sarah Ryder paused at the closed door to her room as Kaidan Alenko grinned at her. "I'm sorry it took so long."
"Well, death-defying, galaxy saving stunts come first you know." His reply was accompanied by a quirk of an eyebrow "though, I'd not mind if you did less of the death part."
"Noted." She sighed, his arm circling her waist.
"Now, close your eyes." He pushed the access button and guided her inside.
"SAM can you make sure we aren't interrupted for a few hours please?"
"Certainly. Please use the code to let me know when you are available again. Have a lovely evening Pathfinder."
“Thanks, SAM!” Sarah replied.
“Ok, keep your eyes closed,” Kaidan murmured guiding her over past where she thought there ought to have been books and such on the floor.
“You cleaned up in here?”
“Heh, just a little,” Kaidan replied, “I did have a little help setting this up.”
“Can I open my eyes?”
“Now.” Sarah blinked, Kaidan had moved her to the foot of the bed facing towards the room, her giant Blasto was sitting happily on the sofa which was pushed to one end in front of SAM’s hub. Yet in the middle of the room sat a table with candles and a white table cloth, food covered with another colored cloth and a single red rose.
“Kaidan!” she gasped turning to him with a smile “You did all this?”
“You know I’d do anything for you? I did have help like I said, Cora found a source for the rose. Jaal helped me with a lot of the food. Liam helped moved furniture - find the furniture actually. I have a few more surprises.” Kaidan’s hand traced her face as he said that his brown eyes meeting her blue ones “but food first.”
“What are we eating? I can’t smell anything?” Sarah asked clearly confused, as Kaidan pulled her chair out and bowed.
“My lady your chair.” He grinned as he lifted a colorful cloth and placed it on her lap.” your napkin. “ Under the cloth on the table was a cleverly sealed selection of foodstuffs.
“Is that steak and mushroom?” Sarah gasped.
“I had mentioned once to Jaal I missed steak from Canada so he went out of his way to find some for me.” Kaidan and Jaal had become good friends since the Angaran had joined the crew. “I wasn’t expecting it, but he was too excited about it to keep it a secret.”
“I see, that is why he was avoiding me?” Sarah laughed.
“Yeah, got to admire him, he wears his heart on his sleeve but he can’t keep some things secret.” Kaidan laughed.”Look at this - fresh greens from Cora’s lab, fruit, and veg from Eos.”
“You did all of this.” Sarah shook her head “When we met, you didn’t even know if you wanted to risk coming here.”
“Well actually” Kaidan blushed “As soon as I saw you, I knew.”
“Kaidan Alenko, are you blushing?”
“Heh, probably.” he chuckled as he served the food and they ate together talking and laughing over the six months or so that had passed in Andromeda.
“Wow, that was good food!”Sarah grinned.
“Good. There is more though.” Kaidan stood and began to clear the table with a cheeky grin. He retrieved a cake from a box on the counter and bought it to the table.
“Sarah?”
“Oh my god… “ Sarah began to laugh. “May I take a photo?”
“Of course.” Kaidan grinned as the Blasto cake sat proudly in the middle of the table. He had worked hard to make this particular surprise. It was a reminder of how Sarah had come to mean so much to him.
It was a large cake for the two of them, but he knew that the leftovers would go to the rest of the crew. So he served a few pieces of cake and they sat talking about the fair and meeting and falling in love.
“So love at first sight huh?”
“Well, yes.” Kaidan blushed “When I first met your dad, at the restaurant. I don’t know if you remember?”
“Oh, I remember!” Sarah grinned “ I was so damn nervous, I invented a reason to leave.”
“Ah. I wish you hadn’t.” Kaidan grinned “I feel like I missed out on a few minutes with you.”
“Dad thought I would be… bait? A lure? I don’t know he wasn’t good at considering feelings.” Sarah sighed “I wish I had known him better, known what made him the way he was.”
“He was right though - and he told me to look after you and Scott.” Kaidan looked down “in case anything happened.”
“You were his second… it made sense,” Sarah suggested but Kaidan shook his head.
“More than that, he was worried about you.” Kaidan looked at Sarah and sighed “I was not sure why he would say that, but I had an irreversible crush on you. So I agreed.”
“Oh, I see.” Sarah shook her head grinning at Kaidan “You know I have had a crush on you since I was in boot camp and you led the biotic training specialist camp.”
“I remember that.” Kaidan nodded “It was meant to be some kind of reward for being promoted. However, it was just more work.”
“Alliance in a nutshell.” Sarah agreed,
“Do you mind if I change the topic and we move to the sofa?” Kaidan asked.”Let me just pass the cake to the masses.”
Clearing the table of the remains of the cake Kaidan unlocked the door and handed it to Scott who was waiting to receive it on the other side. Scott gave him a thumbs up and wave before taking the cake silently and leaving. Kaidan shook his head and closed and locked the door again.
“Your brother is a nut.”
“There is no truer statement,” Sarah replied with a laugh, she sat down next to Blasto, her legs folded underneath her.
Kaidan ran a hand down his pocket to check for the ring box which was still there. It had been a challenge to find an engagement ring but once people found out what he wanted and why they had pooled their knowledge and he was able to produce a very unique, special to Sarah ring. That had been the easy part he now realized.
“Kaidan, are you okay?” Sarah asked concerned.
“Uh yeah. I’m fine.” He exhaled his breath and inhaled calming his nerves as he turned back towards her. She sat with her blasto in her arms.
“Sarah, I can’t imagine spending time apart from you… I don’t want to ever again and..”
“Then let’s get married,” she said her head on an angle, a spark of mischief in her eye.
“Uh…. you could let me ask you.” Kaidan laughed “I was trying.”
“You were killing yourself with nerves. But Kaidan…” she held out her hand and he walked over to her. “You don’t need. to be like that with me you know.”
“Yeah, I know.” He kissed her “So Sarah Hope Ryder will you marry me?”
“ Yes,” she whispered as she kissed him again. He smirked as he pulled out a ring her eyes went wide.
“How did you… oh.” The ring had a stone for every outpost she had helped establish and was made of a metal that Jaal had assured him would last longer than any of them would be alive.
“ With a lot of help. It’s special, just like you are. It’s the Pathfinders engagement ring.” he explained the meaning and kissed her again.
“Kaidan.” she had tears in her eyes “You know I didn’t think I could do this, and I was right - there was no way I could do this alone. I had you, from the beginning I had you. I am so glad I will have you going forward too. " X
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Ooh ok prompt uhhh......how did juline and kesler meet 👀
Your Merry Apothecary
words: 1.5k
[Note: sorry this took so long to get out! also sorry the name isn’t very creative lol]
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“Juline, we really ought to buy you some new dresses soon” Her mother called, slowing her stride slightly so that Juline could catch up to her. The two women were on a shopping trip in Mysterium, sadly not Julines favorite way to spend a day, but it would have to do.
The girl huffed slightly, rolling her eyes, “You know I don’t exactly enjoy wearing fancy clothes.”
“You are going to be expected to host at least one Winnowing Gala.” Her mother reminded her. Juline shuddered slightly as the woman clasped her hands together, a faraway look in her eyes, “Just imagining you dancing with someone, looking so gorgeous, oh, whoever gets to dance with you will be one lucky man.” She winked at her daughter, and Juline couldn’t stop the smile that curled at her lips.
“Maybe one day,” Juline said, turning to face her, “For now I just want to focus on my studies and graduate from the elite levels,” she added.
Her mother opened her mouth to reply when a confused and taken back look crossed her features. Juline cocked her head, following the women’s line of eyesight, and…promptly burst out laughing.
Her mother's eyes shot to her daughter, “Why are you laughing?” she asked, genuine confusion etching across her eyes.
Juline was almost doubled over, and it wasn’t even that funny. She wiped her eyes with her cape, meeting her mother's slightly amused gaze, “It just looks really funny,” she managed, “It's such a bright store, standing out against all of these dull ones, it's just kinda funny I guess.” She giggled slightly as her mom stared at her.
The store in question was quite bright, with exaggerated and bright colors splashed across its front. Its two-story walls were curled slightly, with a sloping roof, it looked like one of the houses in Juline’s old nursery books. A lopsided sign sat out front, with the words Slurps and Burps: Your Merry Apothecary scrawled onto it. Juline couldn’t help but smile at how out of the ordinary it looked among the rest of the normal clad buildings.
She was snapped out of her thoughts when she realized that her mother had walked ahead, almost two building ahead to be exact.
“Hey wait up!” she yelled, racing to catch up to her mother, who at this point had stopped in front of a crystal building, which sparkled a pale pink.
Juline wrinkled her nose when she read the sign, “A dress shop.” she grumbled.
Her mother beamed, “I remember finding my first Winnowing Gala gown here” she exclaimed.
Juline sighed, too exhausted from her run to explain again why exactly she wasn’t planning on having a Winnowing Gala so soon. Instead, she begrudgingly followed her mom into the store, which jingled with a happy tune as a cashier greeted them and led them down an aisle adorned with dozens of dazzling dresses.
Her mother clapped her hands together “Now then, where should we start?”
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About an hour later, and about 3 dresses in, Juline was ready to leave. She placed the third dress on its correct hanger, opening the door to the dressing room and slipping out.
“Oh, Juline, I found this gorgeous dress that would look beautiful on you!” her mother exclaimed like she hadn’t said that two minutes ago.
Juline glanced down at the dress. It was pretty, but further, inspection showed that it wasn’t her size. She promptly pointed this out.
Her mother frowned, pulling it back and examining the tag. An employee noticed the pair and bustled over, “Would you like me to check in the back for one of her sizes?” The woman asked politely.
Her mother nodded, and Juline had a sudden idea.
“Oh, mom?” she asked, making both her mother and the employee turn their heads as she leaned into the changing room and grabbed a sloping black ball gown that was much too large for her with her hand, “This one was also a bit large on me.”
Her mother's eyes widened in acknowledgment, “In that case,” she said to the employee as Juline handed her the dress, “I should probably go with you.”
The employee nodded, “Of course ma’am.” The two rounded the corner, heading for a door in the back, which Juline guessed was where they kept the extra dresses in different sizes.
Once her mother was out of sight, Juline quickly hurried for the entrance of the store. Waving a quick goodbye to the cashier on duty, she opened the doors and practically sprinted out of them.
The air felt much cleaner outside than in that stuffy store, and she looked around, only now realizing she had no idea where she wanted to go.
Her eyes landed on the bright building a couple of stores down, and she smirked lightly, deciding to head that direction.
The door burped when she entered, making her giggle slightly as she took in the store around her.
The color from the outside trailed in, making the entire first floor seem bright and cheery. An abandoned register sat at the back of the store, and a doorway lay behind the wall, with a winding staircase leading up to wear Juline presumed to be the private second story. Cluttered aisles of bottles were spread around the shop, and even though they looked unorganized, different hanging signs adorned every section, labeling each one. Juline slipped into one of the tamer sections, admiring the crystal shelves and the elixirs that sat proudly on top of them.
As she browsed the aisles, smirking slightly at the stupid names on the bottles, she heard someone pad down the stairs and come to rest on the counter.
She peaked her head out from behind the shelves, squeaking slightly when she saw the man staring right at her.
He was of medium build, with tousled strawberry blond hair. He had his head sitting on his crossed arms, giving her a one-over through narrowed periwinkle eyes. he’s kinda cute. Juline felt herself blush at the thought as they continued their staring match.
“You’re the girl who was laughing outside earlier right?” He eventually asked, flashing a bright smile. Julines eyes widened slightly, her face heating up more, she hadn’t realized that he could see and hear her laughing from outside the shop.
“I…uh” she stammered, stepping out from behind the shelves as she tucked some hair behind her ear, “yeah…” she looked down, embarrassed.
The elf let out a laugh, started her slightly, but oh, he had the prettiest laugh. She smiled slightly, then looked down at her boots again.
“Your mom looked pretty grossed out at this place,” he commented, causing Juline to glance up again, “That's actually why I opened this place, it's nice to keep snobby nobles on their toes.” He glanced at her and smiled, and she smiled back.
“I think this place is pretty funny actually,” she said, approaching the counter.
He raised his eyebrows at her.
“I meant like a cool type of funny!” she added quickly, blushing again. Jeez, was she always this easy to fluster?
The male laughed again,“ Relax, I wasn’t judging you, plus, I've never met someone in this store since I've opened that's actually thought that.”
Juline picked up a bottle sitting on the counter, smirking slightly at the label.
LovelyLocks
“Do you create all of these elixirs?“ she questioned, flipping over the bottle and reading the back.
Makes your hair smooth and silky with just one gulp!
“Yup,” He replied, “I always loved alchemy, and since I don’t have an ability, I couldn't enter the elite levels, so I opened this place instead.”
Juline looked up, “Your Talentless?” she asked.
The man nodded, “I’m the fifth of my five siblings, so I guess I was always destined to be one.” he looked at her as if waiting for her nose to curl in disgust, or for her to drop the bottle and storm out.
But instead, she looked back down at the bottle, afraid to meet his eyes as she mumbled, “Well I happen to think alchemy pretty cool.”
Now it was his turn to blush an adorable shade of pink, “Well…um-”
A loud burp cut off his sentence, followed by a gasp from the entrance of the store. Julines head shot up, along with the male.
“Juline?” her mother called.
“Mom?” Juline asked, meeting the eyes of her mother, who looked very taken aback.
“There you are!” her mother said as she approached them,“ You can’t just wander off like that when we're trying on clothes.”
Juline flushed slightly when she caught the man next to her grinning.
“Sorry,” she mumbled, placing the elixir back on the counter as her mother grabbed her wrist.
“Julines a cute name” the elf whispered, just loud enough for her to hear.
Juline’s face went nuclear as she whipped around with great difficulty, still in her mother's iron grip, to face him, “I um…I never caught your name.” She said.
He looked slightly surprised, and for a moment Juline thought she overstepped, but then he shot her another grin, and she realized with a jolt that he had dimples.
Cute
“Kesler,” he said, grinning, “Kesler Dizznee.”
#kesler is absolutly a flirty boy#you cannot tell me otherwise#kesline is their ship name now#its official#Kesline#kesler dizznee#juline dizznee#dex dizznee#kotlc#keeper of the lost cities#kotlcfanfic#ask#ask me anything
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A Familiar World
Threadbare
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Some material isn’t made to last long under stress. Unfortunately, you don’t get to choose when it breaks. A lesson those who work with fabric ought to know well.
Evangel may be a tailor, but she underestimated how much her familiar could take. Things get more than a little out of hand when seraph has a... rough morning.
The masterpost for AFW can be found here.
The chapter post for AFW can be found here.
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yea i don’t have too much to say abt this one, other than hehe hoho character development and feral form shenanigans. there’s not too much body horror going on, but there is a bit of eye horror, so keep that in mind!
The sky was covered in a thick smog of gray that morning. The cool air of the coming winter had been steadily pushing the clouds’ bleak mask over the usual soft blue. The cliffs, for the first time since spring, had fallen silent. The cobblestone streets were chilly, the breezes biting anyone who ventured out. The whole town was just… quiet. Colorless. Still. A sluggish, hazy dormancy.
Not an atmosphere that many enjoyed.
… really, it was the cold that bothered Seraph the most. She’d rolled out of bed soon after her mama, tiredness and gravity tugging at her eyelids. The ache of last week’s mistakes and endless errands had coiled itself into a knot in her chest. It felt brittle in the chilly air. Her wings wrapped tiredly around her form. It wasn’t much, but it trapped a little warmth. Tiny chirps of discomfort accompanied her footsteps. The floor felt like ice.
But mama needed her to be up.
So she was up.
The little familiar staggered over to a tiny box of her clothes. A quick rummage around produced a pair of thick socks, a moth eaten sweater, a pair of leggings, and a scrap of fleece for a blanket. It wasn’t a lot. But. Mama hadn’t finished her winter line of clothes yet. She’d promised her a whole new drawer full, and she’d seen the pictures. They all looked lovely. Mama even let her pick the new fabric out. Mama will get to it, she reminded herself, tugging her sweater over her head. She’s been very busy with the shop and minding me, its ok. I’ll be ok.
That’s what she hoped, anyway.
She’d been so… tired.
Seraph wandered into the kitchen when she finished getting dressed. Mama was already sitting at the table, picking forlornly at a bowl of cereal. The sight dropped Seraph’s comfort lower. Mama was sad? Why? What happened? Was mama still mad at her for for being out too long again? Or for forgetting things she’d told her? She felt like she was doing that a lot lately. Or was Mama just... unhappy? Seraph… no, seraph couldn’t have that. Not first thing in the morning. She- she’d fix it. Seraph cleared her throat to announce her appearance. Evangel glanced up at the sound, but nothing changed in her gaze. Her eyes slipped back to her cereal a moment later. Seraph decided to try again.
“Morning mama,” she twittered, doing her best to smile and stand up straight. “How are you doing?” Evangel heaved a long sigh, leaning back in her chair.
“Awful, doll,” She huffed, “simply awful. I slept like a serf with bedbugs. Yesterday was an ordeal and a half...”
“O-oh… I’m sorry, mama,” Seraph replied softly. Swallowing past the lump in her throat, she walked over to Evangel’s chair. She set her hoof on Evangel’s free hand. She had to fix this. “Can… can I do anything…?”
“Yes, doll, you can,” Evangel sighed. She took her hand away from Seraph’s hoof, waving absently towards the stairs. “I need you to go check stock.”
Seraph felt her shoulders relax a bit. Stock. Yes, she could do that. She could easily do that. And mama would be happy after that, and so she wouldn’t have to worry, and she could get rid of the growing knot in her chest. She’d be a good familiar, she would.
“Right away, mama!” She chirped, turning to go.
“Oh, doll, wait. That’s not all,” Evangel broke in. Seraph paused. Another errand? After… after everything she’d been doing these past few days…?
“... y… yeah…? What else do you need, mama…?” She asked nervously.
“You’ll have to buy some new winter fabrics for me at the market today, and pick up some new cereal. This oat filth is awful,” Evangel huffed. “And you need to go get us some new frozen meals while you’re at it. Everything spoiled again because you left it out too long.”
“Y-yes mama, I got it-”
“Honestly, I still don’t know how you could be so irresponsible,” Evangel scoffed, shaking her head. Seraph felt the knot in her chest tighten painfully.
“I… I’m sorry, mama,” She said meekly. “I didn’t mean it, really.”
“Yes, well, you have to do better,” Evangel continued. “I expect more from you. You’re so much better than that. You were doing perfectly a couple weeks ago, and I know you can do well if you try, doll.”
“R-right, mama, I-I’m sorry. I’ll try harder, really!”
“Apology accepted.” Evangel’s gaze felt as bleak as the gray sky. “I know you will.” She waved a hand at Seraph again, shooing her from the room. “Come back when you’ve finished looking at the stock. I’ve got a few more things I’ll need you to do, too.”
“O-ok, I will.”
Walking down the steps, Seraph tried her best to steady herself. The icy knot in her chest felt like barbed wire, scratching at her heart. She needed to be in a better headspace if she was gonna look at stock, or she’d mess something up.
But she couldn’t get what mama said out of her head.
Her feet thumped heavily on the wooden stairs as the words echoed.
You’re so much better than that.
Mama was right, of course. She’d been making a lot of mistakes. Maybe it was leftover tiredness from her birthday, or maybe it was trying to get used to more height and longer limbs. Maybe she wasn’t used to doing so many chores. Maybe she needed more rest. She didn’t know. But none of it was an excuse! She’d been doing so much better before. Yes, mama was home the whole time she was out shopping. Yes, mama had put up groceries before. But it was Seraph’s job, because mama was working, and mama couldn’t help with all the things she needed her familiar to do. She- she couldn’t.
Mama needed her.
And she kept letting her down.
What kind of familiar was she?
As soon as the thought passed her mind, the pain in her chest spiked. It felt as if she’d spilled boiling water down her front- and it hurt. The little familiar let out a gasp, hoof clutching at her sweater. What was going on??? She bit her lip, leaning against the wall. Did she just need to breathe? She’d try to breathe. The air felt like ice in her throat when she inhaled deeply. It made her cough and wheeze, free hoof scrabbling for her throat. The boiling, scratching heat was spreading from her heart now. It felt like lava under her skin. Tears rose to her eyes, her body starting to shake. What was wrong with her?! She- she needed mama- mama- mAMA-!
Seraph couldn’t finish her thought. Her mind gave up on thought as the pain skyrocketed. Somewhere distantly, she felt her legs give out from under her, and send her rolling down the last few steps. The last thing she registered was a tumbling kaleidoscope of pain and fear, the world suddenly shattering into a thousand little pieces.
Evangel glanced up sharply from her cereal when something thumped heavily down the steps. Confusion flashed across her face- what had seraph dropped now?- but it didn’t have long to take root. After all, the thumping was nothing compared to the shrieking that pierced the air moments later. She squealed indignantly, spoon flying from her hand as she tried not to fall face first out of her chair. What in Revaew’s good world was going on down there?! Had seraph somehow let in a hoard of seagulls?! With the amount of mistakes and foolishness she’d had to put up with lately, this was just the icing on the cake. Face reddening, she sputtered indignantly, gathering up her skirts to stomp down the steps. It was about time her familiar got a stern talking to.
The shrieking continued, albeit more viciously, as she headed downstairs.
“Seraph Sanyi, you stop that this instant!” she huffed, heels clacking dangerously on the steps. “I don’t know what you’ve let in here, but I suggest you let it out, or I’ll- I-I’ll-”
All Evangel’s irritation drained as quickly as it appeared. She stood with one foot still on the steps, fistfuls of her skirts held in a grip tight enough to whiten her knuckles. Her face was just as pale, just as tense. The shrieking was less of a scream now. More of a slow hiss. But that’s not what stopped her cold.
No, that honor belonged to the thing in front of her.
It was hunched over in the center of the room, ripped fabric and torn clothing scattered about. The thing must’ve been around the size of a coyote- and it looked just as wild. Dozens of eyes- black, with silver slit pupils- peered from its exposed skin. They rolled and blinked unnaturally, nearly making the observer sick. Six wings flared protectively from its back, feathers of pearl, flax, and lavender gleaming eerily in the dim morning light. A halo floated low above its head. Its golden light was almost blinding to look at directly. As Evangel watched, a deep, guttural growl bubbled from its form. She would’ve recoiled in horror as the thing started to move, all of its many black eyes snapping to her, but she found her feet glued to the floor. She couldn’t do more than tremble as razor sharp claws scraped against the wood planks, the stark golden glow shining harshly against her skin. Wild wool shrouded a darkened face, a gaping maw glimmering wetly with rows on rows of sharpened teeth. She wished that were the end of it. But... its eyes…
Silver. Pure silver. Glowing dimmer than the halo, but enough to tell the stark difference of slitted, pitch black pupils.
And they were staring right at her.
At her.
The sorceress only had a moment of budding snarls before it flapped its wings and pounced.
Evangel let out a shriek to rival the creature’s, diving out of the way. It managed to dig its claws into her skirt, snarling and screeching viciously. She screamed louder, tugging with such force that the prized silk tore into shreds. She gasped in utter horror- her dress was ruined- ruined!- nearly forgetting the creature was there. Its snarls reminded her, and she rushed frantically for the door. She slammed into it with enough force to ring the bell, clawing desperately at the handle as the creature yowled and screamed behind her. She managed to get it open just in time. When she slammed it shut, a clattering thunk accompanied a flurry of feathers and eyes and clawed hooves. Evangel could hear the creature screeching in fury. She didn’t care- couldn’t care- she just shoved the key in the lock, barring the door through tears that spilled from her eyes. She could feel the hot wetness streaming down her cheeks as she stumbled down the street. Her mind was absolutely reeling- and oh, everyone out here was staring at her- this really couldn’t get any worse- her poor dress- her makeup was ruined- and her shop- oh, the mess-
What was that?! Who was that?! How had it gotten into her shop- and where was-
She paused in realization, sniffling miserably.
… where was seraph?
...
Wait a minute.
Wool? Hooves? Wings? Feathers? The halo… even the dark mask on the creature’s face… Slowly, the sorceress glanced over her shoulder. What in the name of satin silk skirts had gotten ahold of her familiar?
…
… there was only one person she could think to ask now.
Her eyes searched the street, falling on the sign of the little music shop. Sadie Mellokomp. The lady that kept her little doll out much too late. Away from her. Though loathful bile clawed at the back of her throat, she swallowed it back down. No matter how much she despised it, Sadie likely knew more about seraph than she did.
She’d need that woman if she were to figure out what just happened.
~~~
Talking with the woman was… an ordeal. Evangel supposed it could’ve gone worse. Sadie was sympathetic. Not so much about her dress- did she not know how much time and labor this would take to repair?!- but she felt bad about what happened to seraph. Because- apparently- that thing in the shop was seraph.
Careful questioning revealed that familiars had something called a feral form. Her parents had neglected to inform her of its existence. If a familiar got too stressed and too overwhelmed, their entire body would warp into something awful. Evangel could feel the woman carefully sizing her up the whole conversation. She let tears spill over any time her gaze got too close for her liking- she hated people staring at her, and she especially didn’t like being accused of things. But what if she was being a bad originator? Perish the thought! She couldn’t be! She made seraph clothes, she gave her sweets for dessert, she let her see the sirens and sleep in on weekends and was making her a whole new wardrobe! Seraph must’ve had something going on that she didn’t tell her about! Evangel blubbered long enough for Sadie to give her some stiff- if a little flat- comfort.
Eventually, she pulled herself together enough to think about heading back.
The woman told her that feral forms were triggered by too much stress. Too much work. Evangel supposed she had been pushing seraph a little hard. If this was what happened from piling on all those chores, she supposed she might ease up some.
At least enough to figure out how to keep that under control.
… first, though… she’d need to handle her wayward familiar.
~~~
Evangel stood before the door to her shop once again. Her hand shook like a leaf, bringing fleeting memories of the day she moved here. Behind her, she could feel countless eyes on her back. They clawed at her tattered dress, her runny makeup, her unkempt hair- she shut her eyes for a moment, trying to breathe. She’d deal with this horror later. For now, she just… had to take care of her familiar problem.
That would be easy enough.
Seraph loved her, after all.
The door opened with a click and a creak, shedding dim cloudy light on a fabric littered floor. The pure carnage of ruined clothes was enough to choke up the door’s occupant. Oh, all her work… and her designs… she nearly sobbed on the spot.
Of course, the pale golden light grazing the walls put a stop to that
The creature was crouched just under the back counter, wings shifting in agitation. Its blackened eyes roamed all over the room, unable to gaze at any one thing. Destroying the mounds of soft fabric felt good. But only for a little. The tension in its chest was replaced with a dull ache. Some part of it said it shouldn’t have done that. But why? What… what even… happened? Its body felt… wrong. Too bright. Too big. Too many limbs. Too… sharp. It shook its head gently, claws digging through wool to scrabble at deep purple skin.
It had been desperate. Desperate to get… something. Attention? A word? A… a touch?
Its thoughts had plenty of time to turn in circles, but came to a screeching halt the moment the door creaked open. Its body tensed, wings flaring up on instinct. Something made the door move. Someone. Made the door open.
Someone was here.
A low, menacing hiss rumbled from its throat. Nobody was allowed near it. Not now. Not ever.
Its claws dug into the counter’s side as it snaked up top. Its lips were drawn back in a furious snarl, ears pressed firmly against its skull. Though many eyes continued their mindless wandering, quire a few fixed on the new light pouring in. A figure stood in the doorway. The shape seemed tantalizingly familiar. But something about them was… wrong. Cold. Icy. Unmoving. Unsmiling. Unhappy, unable to please, to do right, to do anything-
The creature clawed at itself again, shrieking softly. Shut up shut up shut up shut up- Wings shuffling about, obscuring its view, it almost didn’t catch the figure moving. But move they did, and it made the creature screech in warning. The figure’s answering cry made its chest churn uncomfortably- wrong wrong- and it curled in on itself. It spread its wings wide, trying to make itself as large as possible. Leave leave go away, stay away, stay away-
Suddenly, the figure spoke.
“Seraph, is… is that you?”
… seraph. Seraph. The name was… did it know that name? Its threatening growls wavered in confusion. The name seemed to fit, but… how did the figure know that? Familiar, wrong, stay away stay away-
“Oh, sweetheart… it’s ok… mama’s here…”
Mama?
The word tumbled around strangely in its mind, freezing its body in place. Mama. Mama mama mama. Its slitted eyes grazed over the figure, bewildered. Yes, that… wait… did that fit? Mama… She… nngh-
The creature’s wings caved in on itself, their threat display unsustainable with the turmoil in its mind. It wrapped itself in feathers, shrieking softly in distress. Seraph- yes- mama- yes- no?- who- who is- but- safe?- wrong- wrong wrong wrong-
“... seraph… I…”
The creature crooned painfully.
“I’m sorry.”
The words ground the creature’s mind to a halt.
Silence fell in the shop. Neither of its occupants did more than breathe. Eventually, the glow of the creature’s halo seemed to dim a little. Feathers shifted slightly. Silver eyes peeked from behind them. Searching. Hurting. Confused. The figure returned its gaze steadily, carefully spreading their arms in invitation.
“I’m sorry, doll. I didn’t realize you were feeling this bad.”
Sorry, sorry…
“Won’t you come to mama now?”
Ma... m… ev… evan… gel…?
“I promise I’ll help make everything better.”
Suddenly, everything came rushing back.
Evangel watched as her familiar’s form bucked and heaved, curling up smaller and smaller in the blinding light of her halo until all that remained was the small creature she knew. The tension left her shoulders immediately, a sigh escaping her lips. Good, it worked. She didn’t know what she would’ve tried if it didn’t. She didn’t want to go drag that woman- Sadie- down to do a job she should’ve been able to. This was her familiar. She was handling things just fine.
Of course, the situation wasn’t over yet.
She did not want a repeat of that… episode.
Evangel crossed the room quickly, scooping up her familiar in her arms. Seraph clung to her weakly. As the little one twittered apologies and confused questions, she simply hushed her, promising rest and sweets. A story, too, if she wanted. No need to worry about the absolutely dreadful mess the familiar made- not now, anyway. Evangel would clean it- blegh, how awful- and let the little one rest. It would be ok. She was here.
Anything to keep her doll quiet and content while she figured this out.
… she just needed to keep this from happening again.
~~~
In the corner of the bedroom, Seraph lay curled up in fleece blankets. Normally, she wouldn’t have these. Normally, she contented herself with swatches of comfy fabric scraps. But today… was not normal.
Today… she didn’t know what happened.
Trying to remember was all a blur. Tumbling down the stairs, agonizing pain, and suddenly a glimpse of a figure in the doorway, whispering apologies and sweet nothings. She’d been bundled away upstairs, into where she was now. Given softness and a few of her favorite cookies. Promises were made about rest and who would share the chores. It all felt… strange. Good, but strange.
Maybe she’s getting better, a voice whispered in the back of her head. She shifted a little, pulling back fleece to peek at the door. She could hear her originator speaking downstairs. The rasp of bristles on wood said she was cleaning.
Cleaning up her mess.
She’d seen the tears in her originator’s best dress. Seen the shreds of fabric of her finest work scattered all over the woodwork. Felt the horror bubbling up in her chest even as she was reassured it would all be ok.
Seraph let the blankets fall back over her head.
She knows what happened. She’s not mad at me. She’s… she’s letting me rest. She’s taking care of me.
She said she was sorry.
She said she’d make it better.
Seraph took a shaky breath, letting her eyes drift shut. She would rest. Just like she was told. And… the warmth… the cookies… the gentle tones of her originator’s voice…
She loved her. She did. She really, really did.
So… it would be ok.
Yes, it would be ok.
… but the familiar made herself a promise, anyway.
Evangel will take care of me. She loves me. I love her too. I’m here to help. I’m not here to hurt.
I will never, ever let this happen again.
#afw chapter#afw#a familiar world#my story#arty writes#seraph sanyi#evangel sanyi#feral form#eye horror#resolutions are made by both party and neither of them are good LSKDJFKLS#ah well#anyway no thoughts head empty#watch out for evangel being yikes and ser needs a hug#hehe parallels in here... :3#oof tm SLKDJF
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Fabulous Friday Evenings
Summary: You were having a really bad day. Conner decides to help cheer you up and make sure your drunk ass doesn’t face plant on the side walk.
masterlist
word count: 2,652
a/n: Special thanks to @anothertimdrakestan for helping with the ending and helping with editing! Love you, Elle!
warnings: alcohol and swearing and author does not know how alcohol works. No one is under the drinking age. This may benefit from more editing.
"Mosht people are jusht the careful scaffolding of complexshesh," you slurred, your face red, head half buried in your arms, and golden ear cuffs winking under the dim bar lights.
"You somehow still sound like a fucking nerd even you're when drunk," Conner laughed throwing his head back, handsome face stretched with a cheeky smile. "You look like a mess," he said softly, reaching out for your cheek.
"Fuhk you! Not eberyone can be born too pretty for their own guhd- how did yah evehn know I was here? It was Tim wasn't it! "
"Good guess buuuut it was actually Bart" Conner explained casually taking a seat next to you as you lifted your head momentarily before plopping it back down to stare at the amber gloss of the drink. The light from the ceiling seemed to dance so elegantly in your eyes even as you wrinkled your brows. "That rat," you cursed miserably into your arm.
Across from you, a pretty brunette shot you two a wink and without looking you could tell Conner flirted in kind. Normally, you'd have the audacity to steal the girl's attention away before Conner could even make a proper move but tonight you were in absolutely no mood to be charming. In fact, you were sloshed. You didn't know whether it was the fourth or fifth drink that did it but there you were sitting next to one of the most attractive people he knew with your makeup smeared and eyes still swollen and puffy. You kind of just want a portal to open up and swallow you.
The brunette made a motion to her friends which indicated that she was gonna try her luck and you wished her the best of luck. You bit your soft lips before pressing them into a pout. It took everything in Conner not to kiss you on the spot. Be the responsible one they said. It would be fun, they said.
"We should go. You're-"
"Have fun," you said, patting him on the shoulder, cutting him off curtly; placing some cash on the bar before leaving. The buxom brunette approached Conner placing a hand on the shoulder you’d just touched moments before. He didn’t seem to notice her, his mind still lingering on the warmth of your hand. Before she can say anything, he pivots and runs towards you .
The casual slump in your shoulders in place of your usual elegance was a pretty good indication that you would probably fall in a gutter before you got home. Conner highly doubted you could see straight.
"I can’t believe Roz let you get this sloshed without checking on you," He joked bringing one of your arms over his shoulder and slinging his own arm around you for balance. You walked like a newborn horse. It was incredibly embarrassing and you wanted to die. Conner, on the other hand, just found it incredibly hilarious.
"She's out getting into her own brand of sloshed at a bachelorette party,"
"Huh. Didn't know she was the wedding type. Thought she hated going to those,"
"She's the stripper," You deadpanned, sounding abnormally sober. With that Conner let out a genuinely hearty laugh. You would trade all the martinis, dackories, and margaritas in the world just to get drunk on that laugh.
"That reminds me," Conner drawled, adjusting his hold feeling just how shaky you were from the late October Metropolis weather pressing you closer to his warm body. You kind of wanted to melt into his side but you had too much pride. "Bart never said why you were out here getting shit faced," You frowned at him but couldn't really muster any sharpness into your expression.
There were lots of reasons to get 'shit faced' even in shiny Metropolis. You twitched your nose and mouth side to side gathering the makings of a sentence. Where do you even start? Your little sister got suspended, your mother (who somehow found out you were in Metropolis) is either demanding money or for you to drop everything to go back home to help around the house (translation: help out with the bills while babysitting your siblings), Bats and some other league members were on your ass for the last mission (probably the only thing on this list you found reasonable), this morning, you got fired from your library job so they could hire Marco's girlfriend (who is in fact a perfectly nice person which means you can't really hate her), or the dozens of little annoyances such as Bart not being able to keep his trap shut.
"This week was just a little much,"
A long moment of silence passes between you. Uncharacteristic for Conner but it was cute that he thought silence would make you fess up.
"You know I could have gone home on my own. That brunette looked like she was up for a good time,"
"Yeah right. Also you're welcome."
"You're right. Thank you for getting blue balled this fine evening to escort me" you didn't want to be prickly but Conner was being too nice and that made your skin crawl. Why couldn’t he be mean to you right now like a normal person?
"First off, she wasn't even my type-" You raised a brow.
"Kon, her tits were the size of Jupiter-"
"Did you really just say 'tits'?"
You threw him a scowl clearly sobering up from irritation.
"Shut up. Point iiiis, you didn't have to-"
"You just said-"
"Oh for the love of- yes, I said tits. Speaking of which you should be staring at some instead of having to lug my sorry ass around on this fabulous Friday evening." Your hand fluttering, gesturing vaguely in the air.
"Eh. There'll be other Fridays" Kon shrugged. Pulling you closer and some selfish part of you felt relieved.
----------
Much to your surprise (you really ought not to be), Roz wasn't home yet which meant you had to dig out the keys from the secret hiding spot- another hassle. You reached out peeling a hilariously well concealed hole in the wall and fished out the set of jingling keys. Conner looked like he was between amusement and bewilderment. Good enough. At least, this stopped Conner's 30 minute TED Talk about the new 70s sitcom he'd found.
You two entered the shoe box apartment clumsily thanks to your disastrous limbs.
You blew out a breath and muttered a thanks as Conner helped you plop onto the couch. Though, it was more like gravity decided to magnetize your body to the couch and Conner just let it happen.
You shut his eyes for a moment wrapping a ragged blanket around you. You made a mental note to raid the thrift store for a new one. Preferably one void of holes.
"So what's up and don't you dare say it was nothing. I've never seen you this hammered before," He said handing you a mug of steaming hot chocolate.
"Does it occur to you that I might get hammered like this often and you might just not see it? Who knows maybe I'm actually a functional alcoholic?"
"Ok, first off, you are barely functional. Second, that might be your weakest deflection yet. Try again,"
"Ok... did it occur-"
"I didn't mean it lite- just tell me what happened. Everyone's worried,"
You stared at the steam rising from the fresh cup of cocoa. It was none of Conner's business. It was no one’s business. Your friends were too goddamn nice. Blowing out another breath, you said "You might wanna sit down too,"
Conner takes his own mug of hot cocoa and sits next to you because for some reason eye contact made you a better liar and Conner for all his dumb decisions wasn't gonna let you off the hook that easily. You shifted uncomfortably and muttered about either Cassie or Roz ratting you out. He assumed it was the eye contact thing. Conner felt a little offended. He might not be Tim but he’s smart enough to figure it out on his own. Despite his hurt feelings and bruised ego, he decided to table that and focus on the current issue or, likely, issues.
"Do you want it in alphabetical order?"
"Please tell me you can actually do that," Conner teased with a wide grin. You couldn’t fight off a smile forming on your face. "Sadly, I am not Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne. My brain cells work like a normal person's,"
"Didn't you die?"
"Death only fixes stupid when you stay dead. You've seen Red Hood and whichever other Ex-Robin has been to the pearly gates,"
"You say that as if Jason wouldn't tell the big man to fuck off,"
You blinked and turned your head up to the ceiling. "Ok that's true," You conceded, your mouth twitching rapidly from side to side making you look like an exasperated rabbit. Cute.
"So what's up?"
All the good mood from the past few minutes dissipated in an instant. You looked down solemnly at the still steaming mug. You were silent for what felt like an eternity.
"It's family- Immediate. And the source of all evil-"
"Lex Corp?"
You snorted a shy tired smile cracked across your face. You shook your head. Those little gestures just make Conner feel a little warmer. You, on the other hand, cursed at how easily Conner could make you laugh. You were supposed to be sad damn it.
"Money," Conner knew immediate family was always a sore spot for you. No one knew the specifics except Roz but that was inevitable when you're cousins. Money was also a sore spot and based on your near dead tone. You’ve either lost a lot of it or you’re in a tight spot but not ready to elaborate.
"Wanna try buying a lottery ticket?"
"What?"
"Who knows you might get lucky?"
"You could have gotten lucky you if you-"
"Are you seriously gonna keep bringing that up?"
"Yes, most likely. Depends,"
"On what?!"
"On whether I can think of something funnier to give you shit about or if you can convince me-whatever the fuck you're thinking of doing stop!"Conner's cheeky grin did not disappear nor did the faint flush on your cheeks.
"I wasn't thinking of anything, you sick pervert" he laughed. You really should have been exasperated with Conner. You tried damn it. You looked at him skeptically before violently letting his head rest on Conner’s shoulder causing the other boy to fall over.
"Aaaaaaawwwww babe , if you wanted to cuddle you could have just said so,"
You wanted to. In fact, both of you wanted to. But unfortunately neither of you were martian and neither of you was willing to say jack. You closed your eyes trying to pretend Conner wasn't a little shit. Conner radiated too much smug for that though.
"Shut up," You mumbled into Conner's shoulder already feeling sleep pull him under. You clung to him. Maybe just for tonight you can indulge in this. Just for a little while you can cling to Conner's warmth. Maybe in the morning your head will ache too much to remember this. Waking up alone wouldn't be too painful then. Hopefully.
---------------
You woke up feeling like a troop of Can Caning hippos decided to host a live performance all over your head. You sighed remembering that you had in fact run out of Aspirin just days before so you decided on just lying there and praying that Roz also needed Aspirin and had more energy to run to the store.
You settled in nuzzling in to the warm-
Wait. It was October.
Nothing in the apartment should be warm.
NOTHING.
Then, you heard it. A LOUD snore. It honestly sounded more like the roar of an engine than anything. Everything else followed. The slow rising and falling of the chest beneath you, the press of stubble against your forehead, and the strong arms loosely wrapped around you.
Yeah. You died again. Yeah. You finally went to heaven. Yup. You were ok with that. You were definitely 100% A Ok with this if this was heaven. Being held tenderly by the guy you liked while you got a good night’s sleep was definitely heaven. God, you were such a sap.
How the hell you missed all of that baffled you.
Oh wait. Dancing hippos. Fuck.
Your head felt like it was threatening to crack open but somehow you honestly could not mind even if you tried. You were laying on top of a hot (literally and metaphorically) guy mutually cuddling. You nuzzled into the junction between Conner’s neck and shoulder in an attempt to steal more warmth. Sure, you were probably gonna go deaf from the snoring. Sure, you were definitely irritated by the stubble pressed against your face. And sure, you would probably die of embarrassment once Conner woke up. You could worry about all that later. All you could think about was how nicely your arms fit around Conner’s neck and how Conner’s arms wrap around you a little tighter in return.
Click.
Click.
You could hear the distinct sound of your own camera shutter. Each sound chipped away at your peace of mind. You lifted your head only to see Roz holding your camera.
TAKING PICTURES.
Your cousin was nothing if not a petty opportunist.
“I would tell you to get a room buuuut the only bedroom iiiiis preeeeeeetty occupied,” Roz drawled smugly way too pleased with herself. You opened his mouth to ask but you’d already made the mistake of walking in on Roz and a guest once and you were pretty sure you needed more therapy for that than you did for your murder. You just sighed as Roz took another picture.
“Come on, (y/n), smile a little,”
“I’m not smiling for your blackmail material,”
Roz gasped trying to sound scandalized. She failed, only sounding amused beyond belief. “It’s only blackmail if you’re ashamed of it. Personally, I think you’re scoring big time,”
“Roz please just fuck off before you wake him up,”
“Too fuckin’ late for that. He’s been awake for awhile,”
You could feel Conner smiling into your hair and his arms wrap around you a little tighter. You tried to straighten up. To tower over him. To look intimidating.
But…. you couldn’t. You were kind of trapped because, yanno, super strength.
You were seething and threw a scowl at Conner who only chuckled at you in response.
“You’re never gonna let me live this down, are you?” You snarled, clearly exasperated and feeling the hippos start their encore performance.
“ Mmmmmm, it depends,” Nope. The hippos did not only come back for an encore. They brought friends. Based on the absolutely smug look on Conner’s face, you were in for an entire parade.
You let out a breath not sure if you wanted to play this game but not really seeing any other options. “On what?“
Conner paused and hummed and hummed and hummed some more as if he was actually thinking but you knew from the crook of his lips that he had this planned out. Maybe not this exact scenario but something close“Go out on a date with me,”
You blinked then rolled your eyes theatrically enough that your head rolled along with it. “And be seen with you in public?” You teased, an almost sheepish smile tugging at your features.
Yeah, Conner wasn’t exactly expecting you to say yes.
“Yeah. Sure. Why not?” You said playing it off as casually as possible but you couldn’t help but mirror the absolutely goofy grin plastered on Conner’s face. His happiness was infectious. You felt weightless. It was probably the fact that you were floating with him but you were pretty sure you were just on cloud nine. You were doomed. Definitely, inevitable, indubitably doomed. Even though everything has been shit up to now. The happiness radiating off of Conner was enough to make everything feel a little better.
Thank you so much for reading!
tag list:
@idkmanicantenglish
@batarella (I thought you might like it?)
#conner kent x reader#conner kent#conner kent imagine#My writing#dc fanfiction#DC comics#kon el x reader#kon el imagine
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Creep- FFVII Biggs X Reader Ch.11/?
Summary: you get on the bad side of one of Don Corneo’s men and now you have a target on your back.
A/N: I’m sorry it’s two weeks late! I just started college and don’t have as much free time as i used to. I’m still gonna try for a chapter a week, though.
You paced back and forth in the small room connected to the sector 5 reactor. You and Biggs had been waiting for your group to show up. It was 10:56 in the morning; they were supposed to meet up with you at 10:00.
Something was going terribly, terribly wrong. The both of you knew it. Even before the mission began, you were weary. But after successfully sneaking onto the back of the train and without seeing that piece of shit pervert again, you thought that maybe it was a false alarm.
Your part of the mission went smoothly, you and Biggs had made it into the plate unspotted and did your job with plenty of time to spare. And up to that point, the plan Biggs made had been executed perfectly. Key phrase: had been.
Then your Shinra radio scanner picked up something about terrorists jumping the train. Your heart sank. It was them, your team.
That was two hours ago. They were almost an hour late. The tension in the room was uncomfortably thick as the both of you tried to keep calm, but as the minutes ticked by, it grew harder and harder to keep a positive outlook. You had to expend your nervous energy somehow, and pacing provided the perfect outlet.
Biggs, on the other hand, stood still in the corner of the room, his arms crossed and his eyes to the ground. His jaw was clenched tight, so tight he was in danger of cracking a few teeth. A gut feeling told him that this was going to happen. After all the recent omens, all the recent bad luck, he should've convinced Barrett to call off the mission. And now all he could do was wait and see if his friends would ever show up. He knew the only thing that would keep them from finishing the mission was death itself, and that didn't make him feel any better.
This was hell, you thought. Not knowing what condition your friends were in, not knowing how to finish the mission without them, the weight was growing on you. It was becoming a real possibility that they wouldn't make it, something the both of you would have to address. So you slowed your pacing until it reached a stop, and then you turned to face Biggs.
"... If they don't make it," you started, but then he cut you off.
"They will." He snapped. You stared at him for a moment, shocked at aggressive response.
"But if they don't... we need a plan for that possibility, too."
His gaze remained on the floor below him, though he finally released his jaw. He took a deep breath.
"Well... we've got the bomb with us, and Jessie made an extra detonator for this exact scenario," he began, finally making eye contact with you. His gaze softened at the look on your face, "We'd have to place the bomb ourselves and detonate it.... But they're coming, I know they are."
"How much longer should we give them?"
"A few more minutes."
As soon as the words left his mouth, other voices could be heard, as well as the clanks of footsteps on the metal grate floor. With each passing second they were growing nearer. A group of people, no doubt. It could either be your group or Shinra troops; neither of you were going to take any chances. You quickly backed up against the wall, and Biggs did the same on the opposite side of the room. Then, both of you moved to stand just behind the doorway. Your hand went to your gun, fingers curling around the grip as the footsteps grew closer and closer.
A figure stopped just outside the doorway, and the other members of the group stopped as well. Your heart skipped a beat. Did they know you were here?
Before either of you had a chance to react, a large sword sliced through the air, stopping just inches away from Biggs' neck. He held up his hands up above his head, and you pointed your gun at the man with the sword.
"Mercy," Biggs said, but then the sword was put away, and you recognized the swordsman. With a sigh of relief, you holstered your gun. Biggs slowly dropped his hands, eyes widening at the sight of the familiar blonde, "Wait... Cloud?"
"You scared the hell out of us," You reprimanded the mercenary, to which he paid you no mind. The rest of the team entered the room: Barrett and Tifa, not Jessie and Wedge.
"Wait, where are the others?" Biggs asked. Barret didn't answer, instead moving to stand in front of the man.
"Report," he demanded, Biggs obliged him.
"Topside's going nuts after some terrorists jumped off of a train. Nice and quiet here though. So quiet we had no trouble securing your route to the reactor," he said, pointing a finger towards a narrow passageway on the opposite wall.
Barrett and the others turned to look at the pathway, then back to Biggs.
"You magnificent son of a bitch! Bring it in!" Barrett yelled, coming to embrace the man. Biggs quickly dodged it. Barrett's hugs, though well intentioned, were a health hazard. Upon noticing his expression of affection was dodged, Barrett grumbled to himself.
"Where are the others?" You asked Tifa.
"Jessie got hurt and couldn't make it," She replied, your heart sank at the words.
"Is she ok?"
"How bad?" Biggs asked, roughly the same time as you.
"Not so bad she couldn't rope in this guy," Barrett replied, an arm held out to the mercenary. Based on Barrett's demeanor, you assumed she hadn't been hurt too badly. But it still left more questions than answers.
"What happened to her? And what about Wedge?" You asked.
"Twisted her ankle, should be fine soon though. Wedge is watching the bar and keeping her and Marlene company." Tifa replied.
"Thank God," you sighed, "When our scanners picked up that some terrorists jumped the train I thought for sure the mission was ruined."
"Worked out pretty good, though, you all picking that train you did. While Shinra scours sector 4... you can waltz right on in to sector 5." Biggs said, turning to the hole in the wall, "it's a bit of a squeeze, but it ought to get you where you need to go"
"Little dark and foreboding for my tastes" Barrett muttered. The passageway was just barely large enough for him to fit in; you hoped he wasn't claustrophobic.
"Beggars can't be choosers," Biggs trailed off, then he remembered the team's equipment. He picked up the bag from the ground, "oh, and you'll be needing this, of course"
Tifa took the bag from his hands, opening it and checking to make sure everything was there. Once content, she closed it back up.
"All set?" Biggs asked, and Tifa nodded to him.
"Ready to take on the world and then some!" Barrett threw a fist in the air. You laughed. Looks like the mission's gonna turn out ok, you thought. But let's not speak too soon...
"Then we're gonna head out." Biggs reached for his own grappling hook, picking it up from the ground.
"You two be careful. Stick to the back of the train, and use the backstreets to get to the bar. We'll talk about the next steps once we get back." Barrett said, looking you straight in the eyes. At least you thought he was, it was hard to tell with his sunglasses on. You nodded to him.
Biggs opened up a hatch on the floor, the crisp morning air filling the room once he did. And then he fired the grappling gun onto the ceiling, tugging at it twice to make sure it was secure. He turned to you.
"Ready?" He asked, a small smirk on his lips. His free arm was held out to you, hand beckoning you closer. Your heartbeat sped up, because of course it did. This stupid crush wasn't going away anytime soon...
"Yeah," you replied, coming to his side. You hesitantly wrapped your arms around his neck as he grabbed your waist, pulling you flush against his body.
You looked down at the plate's maintenance platforms below you, where the two of you planned to land. It was a good 30 foot drop, not a terrible distance, especially after yesterday's stunt. A thousand feet below the service platforms were the sector 5 slums. They were beautiful, always lush with greenery and life. It was the only place in Midgar that could naturally sustain life, and yet it was overlooked by anyone who could afford to live topside. Why they'd pick a metal jungle over the sector 5 slums, you'd never know. But hey, at least that meant itwasn't filled with stuck up rich people.
Biggs was getting ready to jump, his stance changing as he calculated the distance below. You got ready as well, holding on even tighter to his neck and taking a deep breath. And then he jumped, plunging both of you into the depths below.
—————————————-
You and Biggs managed to make it to Seventh heaven unspotted, opting for the back entrance rather than the front. Biggs had used a spare key Barrett had given him a while back to get in, and then the two of you made it to the bar.
Jessie sat on a barstool, her bandaged leg extended a little further than the other, and Wedge sat beside her on the next stool over. The both of them were listening intently to Marlene, who sat on the edge of the counter, swinging her legs as she spoke animatedly about something.
They all turned as they heard you entering the room. Jessie and Wedge gave relieved smiles at the sight of you and Biggs unharmed. Marlene was so excited for both of you to get back, she shot up on the counter and ran towards the edge to greet you. This, of course, caused all four of you to panic, rushing around the counter to keep her from falling. Biggs scooped her up off the bar and placed her onto the nearest stool. She tilted her head to the side, eyes brows scrunched up at him.
"Can't stand on the counter, kiddo," he said softly, ruffling her hair
"But you guys let me sit on it," she replied. For a little girl, she was very clever and observant.
"But running on the counter is dangerous, a lot more dangerous than just sitting," You reminded the girl, and she seemed content with that answer.
"We just don't want you to get hurt," Jessie said, and the girl nodded.
"Yeah, it would scare your dad real bad if something happened," Biggs sighed, "Scare all of us, too."
"Is daddy coming home soon?" She asked, and the four of you froze up. If all went well, then he would be, but unfortunately that wasn't a guarantee.
"Of course he is," Jessie said, sounding much more sure than any of you could. Thank God she spoke up, "So... you gonna finish that great story, Marlene? Or start over so Y/N and Biggs can hear it?"
The little girl started over, large smile and lots of animated hand gestures as she told the account of her last adventure. For a child, she was a great storyteller, using different inflections for dramatic effect. And your group made sure to react to the story at all the right times. Her tale was soon over, and her grin grew even larger from the praise she recieved once she had finished.
After a little while, the girl grew bored of the bar and all the adults. Jumping off the stool, she said a quick goodbye and told everyone she'd be playing with Betty. Then she left. Wedge jumped up and chased after the child, as it was his responsibility to watch her, leaving you, Jessie, and Biggs alone at the bar. Jessie watched as the doors finally swung closed, and then turned back to look at you.
"Glad to see you two are ok," she began, "You were late, I was starting to get a little bit worried."
"Yeah, well Barret and the others were late getting to the plate," Biggs said.
"Apparently they jumped off the train," you added. Jessie did a double take, her eyes widening up at yours.
"You're kidding..."
"Wish I was, we picked it up on the scanners. I though for sure the mission was screwed, that they were screwed... but they pulled through, thank God."
"We're a lucky group, that's for sure," Biggs sighed.
"You're telling me..." Jessie said. There was a beat of silence as she stared at a picture on the wall, a candid shot of the whole group on Marlene's fourth birthday, “We're depending on them now."
The wait for them to come back was uncomfortable, to say the least. Even though your team was fully capable of whatever was thrown their way, and they consistently defied all odds, there would always be an inkling of worry in your heart. They were more than your team, they were your family, the only family you had. If something ever happened to them, you didn’t know what you’d do. Biggs and Jessie were worried, too. You could tell.
Jessie tried to ease the tension, to fake some pep, but you knew her well enough to see through it. Her efforts were appreciated, though, as the conversations made for a momentary distraction. But Biggs stayed mostly silent, his jaw tight with worry, his gaze always just past your head.
Somehow during the wait, exhaustion caught up with your group. The burnout of anxiety as well as the lack of sleep the night before made staying awake especially difficult. The calm ambient lighting in the quiet bar didn't help either.
Jessie was the first to fall, her head resting on her folded arms on the counter. Out of all you you, she probably had the least sleep last night. She came home late, stayed up to make the bomb, was woken up by you, and still got up before your alarm to get ready. That was only on the assumption she went to bed at all last night, there was a chance she didn't.
For a little bit, you and Biggs shared a whispered conversation since Jessie wasn't awake to make things awkward between the two of you. But eventually he too was growing tired. His arm lay across the counter, hand holding up his head as he tried to keep conversation with you. His eyes went half lidded, and though he tried to fight it, you knew he wasn't going to hold out any longer. Not after last night or this morning.
"Tired?" You asked, though you already knew the answer. As if on cue, a yawn escaped his mouth.
"What gave it away?" He said, and his yawn caused you to yawn, "You look pretty tired too."
"No, I'm fine. Maybe you should get some rest, though. You need it."
"No, no, I'm good." he began, blinking repeatedly as to wake himself up a little, "Besides, who will keep you company if I doze off?"
"I’ll be fine. If I get too bored I'll just take a nap, too."
“Oh, ok." He hesitated, "You sure?”
"I’m sure. Go to sleep," you laughed. And he did just that, resting his head on the corner of his elbow on the bar. In just a few minutes, the bar was filled with two distinct snores. Jessie's was softer, airier sound while Biggs' was more noticeable. You couldn't help but smile at your two friends. They deserved the sleep.
You don’t remember when you fell asleep, or how long you had been out. Lifting your head up from the counter, you noticed both Jessie and Biggs were still in the same positions as before, snoring quietly. You checked the time: 2:14. And the rest of the team still wasn’t back? They had a late start, you reminded yourself, they were probably fine. Probably.
Your stomach growled, and then you remembered you hadn’t eaten much all day. Surely nobody would mind you stealing a snack or two... So you moved behind the bar and looked under the counter, where Tifa usually left some snacks for the team. And just like you assumed, they were right there.
The double doors of the seventh heaven bust open, Barrett and Tifa coming through them. Biggs and Jessie shot up at the sound. Something must’ve gone wrong for them to rush in so abruptly. Something was terribly wrong...
Barrett looked both pissed and upset, his eyebrows deeply furrowed and his lips twisted into a scowl. Tifa looked upset as well, though she tried to feign composure. Her red, puffy eyes couldn’t be hidden, though. Had she been crying? You rushed out from behind the bar, coming towards her.
"What happened?" You asked, and she flinched at the words. Tears welled up in her eyes again, though she fought them down. Something must have gone really wrong...
"Cloud..." she started, and you finally noticed the mercenary's absence, "Cloud didn't make it..."
#biggs x reader#ffvii#biggs#ff7 biggs#final fantasy#barrett wallace#cloud strife#jessie rasberry#ffviir
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Gai/Naomi/Juggler, B
Skipping ahead in my prompts kind of a lot because I just finished Orb last night and I’m in the mood to write for it. Contains spoilers for the end of Orb.
B is for basorexia, the overwhelming desire to kiss
The thing that actually surprises Naomi, when Juggler shows up at the SSP offices several weeks after the defeat of Magata no Orochi, is not that he’s alive at all but that he’s wearing a different suit. “Gray looks good on you,” she says, cutting him off before he can offer some quip about being hard to kill. “I mean, I know it’s not as dramatic as the black, but gray and red is a good combination.”
Apparently thrown for a loop by this calm non-greeting, he stares at her for a moment before saying, “I was hoping we might have coffee.”
“At dawn?”
“I have reason to believe that the sunrise tomorrow might be well worth seeing, and while my preferred coffee spot has closed, I’ve found another one that’s very nice.”
She nods, says, “That sounds lovely, I’d like that,” and then bursts into tears and has to push her chair back to keep from crying into her keyboard.
Juggler freezes like a rabbit staring down an oncoming car and then comes around her desk and rests an awkward hand on her shoulder. “I don’t, ah. I’m not sure what to do in this situation.”
Naomi sniffles. “You should hug me now, weirdo.”
He’s an awkward hugger. It’s cute. She cries on his silk waistcoat anyway and lets him pat her nervously on the back, because maybe he deserves to be a little uncomfortable.
Once she’s done, though, she says, “Do you have anywhere to stay around here? If we’re having coffee at dawn then we’ll need to be able to find each other then.”
“I don’t sleep,” he says, reflexively, and then, “also, no.”
“You don’t--maybe you’d have spent less time trying to be a bad guy if you got some sleep once in a while. We have a space here, as long as you don’t mind it being where Gai crashed when he was here.”
An odd look crosses Juggler’s face. “No...no, that’s fine, I don’t mind. Thank you.”
--
She plans on going to the office and waking him up for coffee, and sets her alarm for it, but then doesn’t have to, because he shows up at her apartment just as she’s stepping out the door to go get him. “Wow, you really don’t sleep.”
He shrugs. “Not much.” Then, with a courtly bow, he offers her his arm. “Shall we?”
The sunrise is beautiful. The coffee, while not as sublime as Black Star’s, is very good. And Juggler’s much better at kissing than he is at hugging, especially when the sky is red and pink and orange and the clouds are thin and lacy and his mouth tastes like excellent coffee. Naomi has to take a moment to catch her breath when he pulls back. “Nobody’s ever kissed me like that before.”
Juggler raises an eyebrow. “Not even Gai?”
“Gai hasn’t kissed me at all yet, the slacker.” She resists the urge to pout, and then the incipient pout turns into a smile as she realizes, “So there you go, you got to be the first one.”
He does, as expected, look tremendously pleased with himself, and then says, “You’ll have to remind him of his duties the next time you see him. And give him this, from me.”
This kiss is very different from the first one, long and lingering and not sweet so much as it is full of intent. She can’t talk at all for a few minutes after, too red-faced and abruptly shy to attempt it. It feels like she’s walked in on something private, never mind that she was invited, offered it directly even.
“You’ll remember, of course?”
She’ll never call Juggler on how uncertain he sounds, but she’ll always remember it. “I promise.”
--
Juggler is gone two days later, to...wherever it is that he disappears off to, and it’s back to business as usual. Or rather, business as much better than usual; the SSP website’s really taken off, and she and Shin and Jetta spend a lot of time running around interviewing people and filming strange phenomena and writing articles. They’re making enough money that Naomi’s actually been able to quit a couple of her part-time jobs, which is a relief.
Gai gets back to Japan a couple of weeks after Juggler leaves. He doesn’t announce himself, of course, he’s just at the offices when they get back from a trip to a haunted bathhouse, sitting at Shin’s desk, drinking Ramune. Shin and Jetta fall all over themselves in their excitement to greet him, and then see how Naomi’s looking at him and very quickly find that they have other things to take care of.
“You’re late,” she says, “you missed Juggler by two weeks.”
He actually jumps slightly. “Juggler was here?”
“He was.” She crosses her arms over her chest, enjoying the hunted look on his face. “You’ve got some catching up to do, buddy. Also, he gave me something for you.”
“He...gave you something for me.”
“Yes. I’ll give it to you later. Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?”
He doesn’t kiss her in a rooftop cafe at sunrise. Not that it isn’t just as romantic sitting on the couch in her tiny apartment, but it’s a very different mood otherwise. He’s hesitant about it, too, not as cool or as obviously prepared as Juggler was, both of them bursting into nervous laughter after a couple of shy first pecks, but then he reaches for her again and it’s very nice.
After about ten minutes of increasingly confident kisses traded back and forth there’s a pause, as both of them clearly try to decide whether this is going to go any further tonight, and Naomi remembers. “Right, yeah, I should give you that thing.”
Gai nods, frowning. “The...the thing Juggler gave you for me?”
“Yes, that one.”
She does her best to kiss him the way that Juggler kissed her, and from the shocked look on his face afterward she’s at least partially successful. “He asked you to give me that.”
“He was very specific about it, yes.” A beat, and then, with more mischief, “He was very pleased to know that he’d gotten to kiss me first.”
Gai rolls his eyes. “Of course he was.”
They don’t go any further that night, and that’s fine, because Naomi finds after only the briefest consideration that she’s way too nervous about the prospect of asking Gai if he wants to stay the night. Eventually he does get up to go--only back to the SSP offices to sleep there, but that’s still going. But at the door he stops and says, “If Juggler doesn’t come around before I have to leave again, please give him this for me?”
Another shocking, private kiss, filled with yearning, dizzying in how lonely it makes Naomi realize Gai‘s been, his hand on the side of her face gentle in a way that’s entirely different from how he’s gentle with her. She nods, dazed. “Sure. I’ll keep it safe for him.”
--
Juggler does not, of course, come back for another three weeks, by which point Gai’s long gone. He receives his message from Gai with stunned pleasure, and gives her another one to send back.
He and Gai only miss each other by three days this time, but it’s still what happens. Naomi gives Gai the kiss she’s been saving for him, and he gives her another one for Juggler.
It takes three more repeats of this before she realizes that they’re avoiding each other.
--
It’s not like either one of them has a cell phone, is the really frustrating thing.
So she puts a note on the website, which has been doing very well. She knows they both check it, too, and that they’ll both notice the one-line addition to the right side of the main page, under the embedded Twitter feed, that just says, I miss you. - N.
Two days later, she and Jetta get back from an interview to find Juggler staring at Gai’s open bottle of Ramune like it’s personally attacking him.
Gai, for his part, is squinting at Juggler’s chest. “Did you get a new suit?”
“Oh, good.” Naomi hangs up her jacket. “Shin, when did they both get here?”
Shin is hiding behind his latest invention, which is fair, the atmosphere is pretty tense. “Gai’s been here for exactly two hours and seventeen minutes, Cap. J-juggler just got here ten minutes ago.”
“You planned this,” Juggler says accusingly.
“Obviously I planned it. You fell for it.”
“Can I take that note down now, Cap?” Jetta, bless him, is just acting like it’s a normal day, heading to the computer with camera in hand to move his footage over. Granted, both he and Shin were in on the plan, but he was the one who thought it was funny, so it makes sense that he’d be calm about things.
“Yes, please. I’m going to be out for the rest of the afternoon.”
Shin starts to protest, looks at the frozen expressions on Gai and Juggler’s faces, and shuts up.
--
They follow her back to her apartment in a deeply awkward silence, and then proceed to take up more space in her minuscule living room than she would have ever thought possible. She stares at them for several minutes, tapping her foot, and is about to start getting impatient when Gai, finally, says, “Was there. Ah. Something you wanted to talk to us both about?”
“Yes,” she says, with vehemence. “I am an independent woman and I would like my own kisses, please, if you two want to kiss each other then you ought to stop avoiding each other and do it yourselves instead of making me your go-between.” At Gai’s protesting noise, “Look, I don’t entirely mind, they’re extremely nice kisses! But you’re, what, a few hundred years old?”
Juggler coughs. “Thousand.”
“Ok! You’re a few thousand years old! And I know, I know you’ve spent a bunch of that time not talking about your problems, but I’m fairly sure you can behave like adults! You don’t need a, a kissing proxy!”
Neither one of them answer. Gai scratches the back of his head, and then actually shuffles his feet like a child who’s been scolded. Juggler is staring fixedly at her one little bookcase with its painstakingly curated collection of books about aliens and supernatural phenomena. She’d think he was mad, except that he’s blushing, which is very charming of him.
She gives them a moment to feel awkward in silence and then says, “Look, I’m going to, to go to the bathroom and then when I’m out we’ll order dinner from somewhere and you two have to talk to each other.”
She spends longer in the bathroom than she’d really like, because as she washes her hands she finds that she’s shaking. Obviously this whole thing makes her nervous, obviously it’s all strange and new, obviously her first serious relationship would be with two thousand-year-old aliens, and also she’s planning on finally asking if one or both of them wants to stay the night. It’s a lot! She’s taking a lot of steps, very quickly, and they’re going to get easier if Juggler and Gai will just talk like normal people instead of...thousand-year-old aliens with a longstanding feud. Which is what they actually are. And that’s, you know, hot, but maybe it’s also intimidating right now.
Also she can’t decide what to order for dinner.
Finally she stops staring at herself in the mirror and straining to understand the occasional murmurs she can hear through the door, takes a deep breath, and leaves the bathroom. “So I’m not sure what to get, would you two like--oh.” And then, “Well, finally.”
Because they aren’t answering her, they’re probably not thinking about what to order for dinner right now, Juggler’s got his back to the wall next to the bookcase and his hand in Gai’s hair and there’s a kiss happening that’s definitely a culmination of all these kisses they’ve been sending each other through her, or at the very least a continuation of them. Most people wouldn’t be able to see it, the hundreds of years of pent-up longing and regret and desire, but then most people aren’t her. Most people haven’t been couriering it back and forth for months now.
It’s almost heartbreaking to see.
It’s also quite possibly the hottest thing Naomi’s ever seen in her--admittedly, comparatively short--life. She’s not sure she can remember how to breathe.
When she does finally start breathing again, she says, “I think when you’re both done I’ll order us a pizza.”
#yumeno naomi#kurenai gai#jugglus juggler#fanfiction#askrikkaiandhyotei#smooth by santana and rob thomas came up on shuffle as i was finishing this#which felt like a good omen for them#huge win for the ot3
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endeavour fandom meme! i was tagged by @georgefancys and @lieutenantmalcolmreed thank u very much friendos :)
top 5 episodes: neverland, muse, arcadia, icarus (focusing on the positives? morse in robes and him and shirley hangin is so cute), pylon (fugue runs a very tight race though)
seasons in order of preference: hmmm 2 (PETER’S PRIME), 3 (quality peter-jim-morse-shirley squad content), 4 and 6 are very close for me, 5, 1, 7 (i couldn’t catch all of it but like honestly it was kind of disappointing)
favorite scenes: (1) ok the end of arcadia when morse is writing the letter to peter and peter’s leaving with hope and reads the note?! (2) also in pylon when they find the doctor’s house or whoever the fuck he is and they’re like ok you were literally trafficking girls and EVERYONE is so pissed, thursday physically fights this creep and even box and jago are like super soft w the girls and morse and jim and everyone else are so protective and like fuck you man!! i love that (3) in ride when bixby gets yiked in the lake and morse jumps in to try and save him, and then the next shot it’s morning and morse is sitting under a tree in shock while jim and peter are like bLiMeY mAtE do you ThiNk he’s AwLrigHt?? and then peter goes over and is like “u alright” and morse is just staring into space and peter’s like “morse.” and he looks up and is like oh. yuh...honestly it’s the little things!! (4) in game when the chess guy’s like “haha you played chess in school” and then trewlove absolutely SCHOOLS him and mops the floor with his sorry ass (5) that really cute domestic scene in icarus where shirley’s painting her nails and morse is j chillin on the floor
favorite musical moment: IN FUGUE WHEN HALFWAY THROUGH THE EPISODE THE THEME FROM ACT III OF TOSCA STARTS MAKING ITS WAY INTO THE SCORE...oh baby that’s the good stuff! i love tosca (it just streamed on met last night) and like EVERY TIME barrington pheloung quotes it in the score it awakens something within me... fugue is just really my shit!!
favorite cinematography/imagery: arcadia or canticle...esp in canticle you can feel the heat and it’s so beautiful it makes me emo
favorite non-morse ensemble character: PETER JAKES PETER JAKES PETER JAKES!!!!!!
favorite one episode character: eve thorne in muse...or like. ALL the girls at blythe mount in nocturne are such a fucking mood
favorite morse look: when he wears the tux to go to the chamber music concert in coda and then he gets called to work and is just standing there with his hands in his pockets rocking back and forth on his heels in the fucking morgue.... i also REALLY love him in robes in icarus that’s all
biggest disappointment: season 7 lol. that’s all. goes without saying
provide some spicy takes: ok i’m on the same boat with tee and a lot of other people here, morse and shirley are fwb, you can’t change my mind. also this is a bit spicy (2) if peter jakes and ronnie box ever met there would be ABSOLUTELY UNREAL sexual tension. it would be so hot i wouldn’t be able to look at it and simultaneously would be like screaming cuz like...they have the same kind of attitude vis-a-vis work (thought i don’t think peter would ever get himself in a similar situation as box) and i think they’d probably hate each other but they would totally have hate sex, peter’s a total bottom and like just imagine box fucking rawing him one night after work and then the next day box is trying so hard not to hide his satisfaction when peter’s like clearly sore lmao and morse is like what the fuck is going on here and peter’s like i hate that bastard lmao. i’m sorry i don’t make the rules
free space! i started writing an morse/jakes elevator sex one-shot like a month and a half ago and still haven’t gotten around to finishing it. i’ll leave an excerpt under the cut if you’re interested, i’ll probably finish it after school ends in may hee hee
i’m gonna tag uhhh @ladyaj-13 @fitzrove and @wherehefoundtheporcupine if u guys want, no presh lol
if u want to read the excerpt i left in the free space:
"It's so fucking hot," Peter groaned. He checked his watch. They'd been in the elevator for at least half an hour, it felt like, with little sign of building maintenance or any of the tenants realizing anything was wrong with the elevator. Even if they did notice, it'd be another thirty minutes, by Peter's estimate.
"You're letting yourself get hot and bothered," Morse said. He'd switched sides, so that he and Peter were facing each other now, legs stretched out in front of each other. His head was tipped back against the elevator wall and he exhaled slowly, eyes half-closed, as if meditating or on the verge of falling asleep.
"Are you seriously falling asleep right now?" Peter asked incredulously, gently kicking Morse in the shin.
"No," Morse mumbled, in a way that sounded very much like he was falling asleep.
"Oh, you've got to be joking.”
Morse opened his eyes and sat up a little straighter. "You said so yourself. It's hot." He brushed the back of his hand along his forehead, where Peter could see sweat beading at the hairline, and sighed. "And we're not exactly doing anything thought-provoking."
Peter drank in the sight of Morse in front of him, collar half-unbuttoned, sweat glistening thinly along the curve of his upper lip, one hand dug halfway into his hair to keep it from falling back across his face. He was briefly reminded of the time he'd lent Morse one of his shirts, back when they'd first started working together on that opera killer, and how he'd watched with oddly insatiable fascination as Morse had undone his shirt. He inhaled sharply now, feeling the same rush of adrenaline, as Morse threw his head back again and tugged as his collar, baring his throat.
"That's indecent," Peter said, when he finally snapped out of his trance.
Morse looked at him sharply, then snorted. "Pervert."
"You ought to know what it looks like."
"Piss off," Morse said, but he was laughing.
Emboldened by Morse's smile, Peter crawled forward on his hands and knees until he could straddle Morse. "Make me," he said. He caught the shock registering on Morse's face, feeling the rush of excitement as the surprise softened into curiosity and then back into alarm.
"Peter! What are you playing at — we're in an elevator!"
"That's not going anywhere," Peter finished, "and that's stuck in-between floors," he undid the next button on Morse's shirt, freeing his throat and exposing his collarbone, "and we've nothing else better to do."
#this ended up being really long but u know what. i have a lot of thoughts#especially now that ive thought about peter and box smh#endeavour#ivy talks#tag games
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